International Women’s Day- An Open Letter To Mothers Everywhere



Women. We are smart. We are strong. We are brave. We are kind. We nurture and protect. We design and invent. We dream. We love.

We make up 50.2% of the world’s population and yet in every democratic nation we are still grossly underrepresented in positions of political power. In developing nations, we are unable to leave the house without a male escort, go to school or have the freedom to say no to FGM or to an arranged marriage.

It may be 2018 but the fight is far from over. Still we must fight to be heard. To be recognised. RESPECTED.

In the wake of #timesup and the #metoo movements, as well as the centenary celebration of the women’s vote in the U.K., today- International Women’s Day- felt supercharged. Unapologetic. Demanding.

We are done waiting. The time for change is now.

And whilst we as women need to stand in solidarity with one another, to raise each other up when the world around us tries to tear us down, it is the Mothers I write to in particular.


Because you are raising the next generation. You are nurturing the minds of young men who can must grow up knowing that NO really does mean NO. You are shaping the thoughts of young women who might must be courageous enough to realise that their worth is beyond their biological attributes.

When advertising and the media tries to break your daughter’s self esteem and then sell her products to fill the void, you will be able to step in and show her the importance of self-love.

When she thinks her value is based upon looks or on whether or not she has a boyfriend/girlfriend, you can set her straight and remind her of all the incredibly smart, talented women that have made the pages of history in their own right and not for being somebody’s wife.

When society tells your son to “man up,” that empathy and emotion are strictly for ‘girls’, you can teach him that these qualities are a sign of strength, not weakness, and that they go beyond gender to unite us all in being one thing- human.

When the world tells him that his worth is measured by financial and material success, you can gently remind him that the only worthwhile thing in life is happiness.

Those of you on Instagram will know that I’ve recently read Grayson Perry’s ‘The Descent Of Man’ which is a must read for anyone interested in gender roles, masculinity and the patriarchy. In it he argues (rather solidly, might I add) that gender roles are by and large learnt, instead of an innate sense of biology. Which means that we, as mothers, as parents, have got a head start in raising the change we wish to see in the world.

The future is female.

Happy International Women’s Day!



2018- New Year, New Goals

Parenting, The Mummy Diaries

First post of a new year!

January, that time of year for self reflection. Resolutions set in order to make changes that will hopefully make us happier and healthier people, and I of course am no different.

2017 was an exceptional year (and will be a tough one to beat) as it brought Ored and I our bright, beautiful, kind, nosey- and let’s not forget- noisy babe. Motherhood has given my life more meaning than I could ever have imagined, but it has also made me hungry. For the first time in my life I’m starting to think of the future and what that means for our family, because there’s nothing quite like the refocus you have once you have a child.

Maybe you could call it a movie lightbulb moment (ding!) because suddenly, with total clarity you realise just who/what is important in life and who/what doesn’t deserve a second thought. And so I’ve entered the New Year with a spring in my step determined to achieve my goals and make 2018 a year full of love, happiness and success.

  1. Get in front of the camera

It’s difficult to admit but I have struggled with my post pregnancy body far more than I thought I would. It’s not a question of weight, it’s just that everything is different now. My old clothes may fit like a glove once more, but now my face seems a little…off and my hips still seem adamant to show just how wide they had to be to carry a babe…

And so if I’m really honest, this has played a big part in avoiding being photographed. Despite holding our son, I’d actively grimace whenever anyone dared to point a camera in my face and utter the word “smile.” Looking back I’ve come to realise that, rather sadly, I’m the only one missing out. These moments of babyhood will be gone in the blink of an eye and when I’m 60 looking back at photographs, it’ll be hard not to notice how little I appear in them.

So as of now, I’m making a promise to get in front of the camera. No matter how bad my hair may look or how terrible an angle Ored is taking them from. And guess what? The above photos were taken on the 1st so I’m already off to a good start!

2. Exercise

Since turning vegetarian last July my diet has never been better. I can now say I actually cook from scratch (hurrah) and even Ored is more involved in the kitchen, relishing in making homemade pesto. Opting for a baby lead approach to weaning meant that as a family, we all had to be on board, sitting together, eating together and making mealtimes a fun, but healthy, experience.

But having a baby on in my hands 99.9% of the time leaves little time to do anything else and so exercise has fallen to the bottom of that never ending list all parents – but especially Mamas- have of ‘things to do.’

And so it’s for both health and post-pregnancy confidence that I’m vowing to incorporate regular exercise back into my life, be it walking, running or swimming.

3. Write

I made significant headway with freelance writing before falling pregnant. I managed to keep the blog relatively up to date and at the tail end of last year I embarked upon writing my first novel (6,000+ words and counting). But the momentum has slowly ebbed and I know I have to pull it back before I find myself back in that most feared and loathed of spots- writer’s block.

4. Read

I love books and whilst I’m devouring a ton of children’s novels (its something we really enjoy doing as family before bedtime) I’d quite like to read some for myself again. Every year I always set myself the completely unrealistic goal of reading a book a week, and so fail miserably. So now I’m aiming for a book a month, utilising the evenings or breastfeeding sessions instead of being on my phone/tablet (can I add using less technology as a 2018 resolution?) But I’m flexible. Even if I only read a book every two months it’ll still be significantly more than last year!

5. Try something new

I’m lucky enough to be in a position where I don’t have to return to work once my maternity leave finishes. That said I’d love to find something I could do working from home that allows me to be creative whilst spending time with Little Ored. Who knows what will be this time next year- but I’m excited to find out!

6. Be kinder

To myself, to others, to the planet.

So here’s to 2018- may it be a wonderful, magical year for us all!



Parenting, The Mummy Diaries

Time has a funny habit of playing tricks on you, because going into labour and giving birth to Little Ored seems like it was only yesterday and yet it already feels like a very long time ago. Some bits I can remember with complete clarity, others are already a bit fuzzy but I’ll do my best to finally share my labour experience!

Why? Because Pampers UK have launched a fantastic campaign encouraging parents to thank their Midwife/Midwives for the hard work and support they provide during what is arguably one of the most incredible and life changing moments we’ll ever experience (if also completely terrifying). And for every #thankyoumidwife that is posted on social media, Pampers have promised to donate £1 to the Royal College Of Midwives so let’s spread the love!

I was ten days overdue and by this point my already ridiculously huge bump had somehow managed to find the space to grow even larger. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and for the first time in my pregnancy, I was starting to feel anxious. I had already had one sweep which had failed and whilst the midwives at Eastbourne Midwifery Unit were busy planning my next one I was busy listening to the relentless ticking of the metaphorical clock because time was running out. As EMU is solely run by Midwives there are lots of procedures in place to ensure a safe labour and delivery for both Mum and baby, and so in order to birth there I had already had to meet a list of criteria that deemed me low risk.

And so the longer our baby made us all wait (“I’m way too comfy in here. Deal.”) the more I was becoming a high risk. If this second sweep failed, I would have to be induced and give birth at a hospital which isn’t what I wanted. EMU appealed to us because of the fact it’s run by midwives, with an emphasis on one-to-one care with little to no medical intervention. Partners are even able to sleep overnight in individual rooms with Mum and baby, maximising that initial bonding time as a new family. In short, it was exactly what Ored and I wanted. Giving birth on a hospital ward was not.

So when the second sweep rolled around I was visibly concerned, so much so that the midwife carrying out the procedure said to me, “I know it’s hard, but the more you worry and the more stressed you make yourself, the more baby will pick up on it.” And I knew she was right. Anxiety is completely counterintuitive when you’re trying to encourage a little one to leave the safety and warmth of the womb, where they’ve been quite happy for the past nine months, and enter the big wide world! As much as I desperately wanted a pool birth, I knew that as long as our baby was delivered safely, it didn’t really matter where we were and so I left it to our unborn babe to decide. What would be would be.

Sweep completed, we did as we were told and went for a brisk long walk. Well, at least Ored did- I waddled behind! Nighttime came and went and still nothing, so we went for another walk in the morning and I can remember talking to my bump pleading, “I know I said I only wanted you to come when you’re good and ready, but we’re just so excited to meet you!” Yet still there was nothing.

As I complained of chronic back pain (what I later realised were the first signs of early labour) I contemplated what it would be like to be pregnant forever– only for my waters to break. Four hours later I was lying in the birthing pool, exhausted yet feeling like a firecracker (never underestimate the power of adrenaline) as they handed me our baby.

Yes it really happened that quickly, so quickly that I never had time to mentally prepare myself for what was about to happen (i.e pushing a baby out of my vagina) because it WAS happening. So thank God Ored and I had Denise. Overseeing our delivery from start to finish, which meant staying long after her shift had ended, Denise was the calming, reassuring and encouraging presence we both desperately needed. Because for all my relaxed, take-it-in-my-stride approach to life (not to mention Ored’s quip that I’m “tough as old boots”) when the pain takes over, panic sets in. All of a sudden you wonder, “can I do this?” Denise was there to make me believe I could, not just that I had to.

And the care from the midwives that Sunday evening didn’t just extend to telling me when to breathe and when to push. It was showing me how to help little Ored latch during those first tentative attempts at breast-feeding. How to dress him and put his nappy on. Demonstrating how to bathe him the next day. And when we left, how to put him in his car seat safely. Oh, and let’s not forget the thousand and one questions we asked not only during our overnight stay but for the next month, calling EMU whenever we found a rash, a raised temperature or anything else that scared the crap out of first time parents.

For this, both Ored and I are eternally grateful to the team at EMU. And whilst the words thank you will never seem enough at least the #thankyoumidwife will hopefully go some way to showing the midwives and the NHS just how much we value you. Because quite frankly, we couldn’t push these babies out without you!