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.
There. I've said it. There is no place for joy at Christmas. That is not to say that there is no place for happiness, of course there is, but joy is asking too much. There has been a tension in the air over the past couple of weeks that is almost visible, not so much … Continue reading Christmas is not at home to Joy