There are many kinds of mother you can be. Tiger mother, Alpha, Helicopter. I’ve never really seen myself as any of them, and certainly tried to avoid a few. If I had to classify my parenting style, I’d say that I carried stuff. To give it a festive flavour, if this were a nativity, I’d be the donkey.
How we talk about cancer matters. It’s easy to worry about saying the right thing, the wrong thing, and often people end up saying nothing at all, which is the worst of all. So, given September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, it seems a good time to get it all out. The words that readily … Continue reading Billy Don’t Be A Hero – The War On Cancer
A month ago today, I was sitting in Regent’s Park, reading a book, drinking coffee. I had an evening at the theatre planned. For the first time in years I felt that everything was under control. I'd spent the previous evening watching Barbra Streisand. I would never to make it to the theatre. 6 hours … Continue reading Get down from there – life with childhood leukaemia
This year, the elf on the shelf appears like a festive psychopath to ruin it for everyone.
The most surprising thing about the Harvey Weinstein story this week is that anyone was surprised. Powerful man turns out to be a predatory sleazebag is nothing new: Trump’s locker room and the criminal records of most of my childhood celebrities is testament to that. Well it was the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, a … Continue reading Enough now? Me Too. Surely we can now see the back of the Harvey Weinsteins
My son’s first reaction on hearing there was going to be an election was “You don’t like elections do you Mum? You never win” And it’s true. He’s only 8 and the past 2 years have seen an obscenely swift succession of disappointing results. The day after the Brexit result we had a family outing … Continue reading Won’t someone think of the children – the election orphans.
It’s hard to talk about anxiety. On the one hand, admitting that you have a mental health issue does carry with it a certain amount of stigma. On the other, the fear that it will be dismissed as middle class whining when people have real illnesses to worry about is strong.
George Michael was mine and all of these other people are merely charlatans hired in as professional mourners. They had no business intruding on my grief.
Theresa May is considering bringing back Grammar Schools - that darling education panacea of the right. For some of us, they never went away, and this Saturday my precious first born sits his 11+. If you thought I was anxious about Son2's Year 2 SATS, brace yourself.
It's been a long 5 months in Ambridge. Custard sales have plummeted and there has been a trifling (sorry) referendum in the meantime. But this Sunday, marks the beginning of the trial of the century. *** If you don't listen to The Archers, don't feel obliged to read on. I feel the need to let … Continue reading The Archers: All rise