Never mind jumpers for dogs, how about a SNOOD for a BABY??? I mean, I've got one (Exhibit A), Smidgen's got one (Exhibit B), so it only seems right that Flora should have one too, no? When I was wee my favourite thing to do, besides reading, was dressing my dolls up in different outfits and parading them about. It has only just...

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I saw this Christmas present formula on Pinterest somewhere and it immediately struck me as being so obviously brilliant (subject to the addition of a chocolate orange, of course). As we enter our first festive season with a wee one of our own, and attempt to resist the pressure to spend spend spend, this simple guide seems eminently sensible. Fin and I are...

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This is the first time in many years that I have no need of a sparkly new festive outfit, and I'm struggling to come to terms with it. I absolutely love the first part of winter, when everything is anticipation. The first snow, Christmas, my birthday, maybe a ski holiday: my excitement for each milestone trembles in the air like an early frost,...

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...why I shouldn't buy Smidgen this jumper for her birthday. I mean, LOOK AT IT. And you know Smidgen would wear it better than some terrier. Whatever, Buster. You're no sighthound, and you know it. There are, actually, a few good reasons why I shouldn't buy Smidgen this jumper for her birthday. 1) It's £46. 2) It's £46. 3) She will almost definitely...

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Here is a picture of my face, to prove I'm still alive. It was taken at my sister-in-law's wedding, just eight days after the baby was born. An hour later, I found myself sitting topless behind a filing cabinet in a sweltering catering office, breast pump in one hand, glass of champagne in the other, trying to avoid flashing my in-laws through the...

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I hadn't expected early motherhood to involve so much spare time. Not free time; I am chained to that hungry little monkey almost constantly and don't expect to be liberated any time soon. Fortunately, I have a severe case of Stockholm syndrome when it comes to my tiny captor, so I don't mind. But I'm spending many, many hours cradling either a baby...

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Leaving the hob on all afternoon. Then putting a plastic tupperware box down. On the hob. I have no idea how to clean melted plastic. Maybe I'll just stop using that hob. Waking from a thick, black, unplanned sleep to find the baby lying where I'd left her on my chest, her fat cheeks cold to the touch. I've never felt panic like...

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I think Fin likes his anniversary present. Funnily enough, he gave me exactly the same thing. Our baby girl arrived on Friday morning, just over six weeks early thanks to complications from the appendicitis. She's still being cared for in hospital but doing so well. I'm home and healing. When Fin and I got married, my heart was light as air. Today it...

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You know what's more fun than a kidney infection? A kidney infection that is not, in fact, a kidney infection but actually secret appendicitis! Wheee! By the time I was rushed in for emergency surgery, after a month of feeling increasingly not so hot, my appendix was officially "obliterated". That's the word the consultant used in my notes. It was so far gone,...

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The second most middle-class moment of my life occurred last night. My pregnancy yoga instructor, in attempting to help us to calm our swirling thoughts, encouraged us to picture ourselves as "coffee grounds slowly settling to the bottom of a cafetière." PREGNANCY YOGA. CAFETIÈRE METAPHORS. Good grief. In case you were wondering, the number one most middle-class moment of my life was the time I googled...

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This past weekend, Fin, Smidgen and I were meant to be going on a very glamorous caravan trip to Pitlochry. Instead, I spent four days and three nights in Greece, soaking up the sweltering temperatures, being waited on hand and foot and barely getting out of bed the whole time. Oh, wait, did I say Greece? Sorry, I meant hospital. The other parts...

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Hello. I'm still here. I have thoughts. I have words. I just don't seem to be able to put them on a page. Rest assured, though, I'm not lying in a puddle of sadness listening to The Wind Beneath My Wings on repeat. I'm just quietly getting on with things, "things" currently being obsessing over nappy bags and eating my body weight in...

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Sometimes only a dog and a baby wearing matching ridiculous hats will do. If this story doesn't make you feel better about the world, nothing will. Image by Grace Chon, brought to my attention by Sara (thank you!) ...

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Loss, by Wendy Cope The day that he left was terrible - That evening she went through hell. His absence wasn't a problem But the corkscrew had gone as well. It's not entirely on point. It was she who left, not he. Her absence most certainly is a problem. She even left the corkscrew behind, not that it's any use to me (maybe...

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This is not the post I ever imagined would follow Wednesday's announcement, but life seems to have little regard for my plans. So does death, for that matter. On Thursday evening, my wonderful mum, Rosie, died. I am heartbroken. My mum was so proud of me for writing this blog and loved to read whatever nonsense I'd written. She was the first real-life...

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