A quarter-life crisis?!

I sit here wondering if I am the only person working in a school who wishes it wasn't half term right now.

As the break approached everyone I work with was looking forward to a holiday but all I could think about was a disruption to routine and endless days with my kids.

Which makes me sound like a pretty shit mother really.

Shouldn't I want to spend every single second of every single day savouring their childhood?

One day I'll wake up and they'll be grown. And I'll miss these times.

It's not even that they're misbehaving.

It's not that I don't love them.

It's not that I don't want to spend as much time with them as possible.

I just don't want to spend time with me.


The real me who is boring, frumpy, grumpy (thanks for that suggestion, auto-correct) and depressing.

I want to step out of my life right now, just for a few days and have a real break. Not just from work but from everything. From being a mum, a wife, a colleague. From being myself. from my history and my future.

Book Review - Sea and Sand

When I read Air and Ash by Alex Lidell, the first book in the ‘Tides’ series I was drawn in by comparisons to one of my favourite authors, Tamora Pierce. You’ll notice from my review (which can be found here) that I felt it lived up to that promise. I loved Ash as a feisty but realistically flawed character and you could tell there was a great story building.

Since then I have read the next two books in the series. War and Wind which was released June 2017 and recently released Sea and Sand.


And in this review, I want to impress upon you not just how much this book would appeal to readers of Tamora Pierce, Rachel E Carter and Maria V Snyder, but also how this series can hold it’s own and be worth reading without any comparison.

9 things no Mum wants to hear... an alternative perspective

I'm not a big fan of the '10 things you shouldn't say to...' lists that often spring up on the internet. When it comes to those that advise on what you shouldn't say to someone who is grieving, suffering or unwell, I think they miss the point - no one wants to say the wrong thing, they just want to say something and I'd rather a friend picked up the phone and said something a bit stupid than not call at all because they're too scared after reading one of these sanctimonious bullet point lists.


The same goes for parenting. If you need to remind someone to refer to you as 'pregnant' instead of 'fat' then I'm pretty sure they won't be the sort of person who would read these lists anyway...

Christmas 2017... the one with Friends

By the time we got to Friday 22nd December I was more Scrooge than Christmas fairy as I was still worrying about Ollie. He'd been so much better in the two weeks between my last blog post and his final day of testing that I was hopeful he would be signed off but scared because I'd thought that before and been disappointed. I arrived at the hospital with Ollie that morning walking a fine line between hope and terror, with hardly any brain space to spare for thoughts of Christmas shopping, present wrapping and biscuit making.


My spirits were lifted when we were able to leave the hospital whilst waiting for the results and I headed into town to get all the things I hadn't been able to get until payday. I spent four hours wandering around town, waiting for the call to either return to the hospital or go home and when my phone range I almost cried with relief. The tests showed that the liver was recovering. Ollie would be OK.

It has to be OK

The season of Advent is my favourite time of the year. I love the sense of anticipation, the festive activities, the giving of cards and gifts.

I can never wait to put up my tree and decorate my home, the warmth, the smells, the light and the cheer.

But the last couple of weeks have been overshadowed by worry and concern. Because Ollie has been really unwell.


It started with a rash. Red and rough and quickly spreading all over his body. Of course I did that panicked test with a glass to ensure it wasn't dreaded sepsis and having ruled that out I moved on to assumption number two and gave him some mild antihistamines, thinking it would be gone by morning. He was still happy and smiley, I didn't feel too worried.