Before I had children, I used to daydream about how one day I’d have two kids, ideally with a couple of years in between them, because that’s the perfect age gap, right? Continue reading
First of all, apologies for the terrible play on words in the title, but this is about a trip to a marble museum so it had to be done (whether or not we actually had a marvelous time).
The little lady goes back to school on Monday after the Easter break.
After two luxurious weeks without setting an alarm, I can’t say I’m relishing the thought of getting up at 7am again.
Do you ever get that feeling of being completely overwhelmed when you’ve taken on too much? Like you want to tell the whole world to sod off for a bit and leave you in peace?
When I was little, Easter wasn’t such a big deal. I remember getting excited about the prospect of chocolate and my mum doing a slightly-more-special-than-usual Sunday lunch. But in the 1980s Easter definitely wasn’t the epic egg-fest we celebrate now.
Thirteen years ago, on 21 March 2003, I lost my wonderful dad to cancer. He was 57.