Brazenmom

One of the “highlights” of the Baby Expo I attended last year was the appearance of a certain purple reptile who, despite being the most annoying thing on the planet, continues to avoid extinction.  Children screamed in delight and parents groaned in agony every time He Who Shall Not Be Named took the stage and danced to his theme music.  There was no escape. It was traumatic, and cemented my decision to ban the creature from our house.

I promptly let all friends, family and acquaintances know that should any toy, book or DVD related to the monster be given to my baby, it would continue its journey to the nearest charity shop.  (I’m all for recycling, you see.)  The reaction from most people was something like, “Oh, we’d never do that to you!”

I’ve been happily telling people that I grew up just fine without the purple beast, so my child will do equally well on a diet of Smurfs and Gummi Bears. Read the rest of this entry »

Zombie – a term that has embedded itself in my vocabulary since the birth of my fifteen-month-old daughter. I love my little lovely most dearly but she has done nothing to improve my complexion. Bags and wrinkles are the story of my life.

In light of the aforementioned I think that I can safely assume that cosmetic brand ZombieMomz is designed especially for moms like me – to remedy that all too familiar Night of the Living Dead look. Read the rest of this entry »

Today I casually observed my fifteen-month-old daughter walk around our lounge like a zombie tree-hugger with her arms spread out, turrning in circles…

…and then randomly bouncing up and down.

It was pretty awesome and made me desperate to know what was going on inside her little head. I’m thinking Dawn Of The Dead cum Nel? – Films she certainly didn’t lay her eyes on under my watch! Read the rest of this entry »

At one of our antenatal classes we were shown how to bath a newborn baby. Our teacher used a plastic doll who was, of course, obligingly still. In the hospital, the nurse demonstrated with our very own baby. In her very capable hands, bathing looked easy. When we got home, my husband took on bath duty so that I could have a bit of free time. (And in those early days, free time meant nap time.) Imagine our delight when Angelique was as still as the plastic baby when Hubby bathed her. Read the rest of this entry »

Breast milk ice cream? Really? The Icecreamists, an ice cream parlour in London’s Covent Garden, recently hit the headlines with the launch of a new ice cream flavour called Baby Gaga, which consists of human breast milk blended with vanilla pods and lemon zest. Yum? – perhaps for those who have a ‘sucking on mother’s milk’ type fetish.

Earlier this week, the Baby Gaga ice cream was, however, confiscated by Westminster City Council over fears it could lead to viruses such as hepatitis being spread. And to confound matters for the avant-garde ice cream parlour, pop star Lady Gaga has not only criticised the product as “nausea-inducing” but reportedly told the parlour to change the name of the ice cream so that it can in no way be linked to her name or image, or a legal suit will be launched against The Icecreamists. Read the rest of this entry »

Chaos reigns! I have been working for the last fifteen minutes amidst the mayhem of a dive-bombing toddler who is launching herself off the couch, at the foot of which I sit, onto a pile of cushions I have placed next to me to protect ‘oh fearless one’ from breaking her head. Apparently the danger of heights and hard floors does not permeate the consciousness of my fifteen-month-old maniac, and neither do the words “mommy needs to work.” As I formulate these very syllables, my little lovely is using me as a launchpad to boost herself onto the couch and thereafter as a break to stop herself from crashing into any nearby obstacles. The joys of working from home… Read the rest of this entry »