Will Dig Life

2015 has been a full year for us. Mostly joy filled, but there was also the devastating news of a close relative's diagnosis with highly advanced cancer. Those eyes... I started 2015 still somewhat shell shocked from being thrust into new motherhood - N was then 3 months old - and I'm ending it with "mother" firmly established as something I am, not just something I do. I am who this little one looks to for guidance, love, support, comfort, rest... well, everything really. This, having a person so utterly and completely depending on (fallible) me, it used to scare me. Now it's simply life. I have never had a greater joy than seeing her look up at me with nothing but love and trust in her face. There is no fear, no worry, no hidden agenda; just trust, just love. I'm tasting something of God every day - and even that has become something "normal" to me by now (although I'll admit it does take my breath away at times!). The little one at 3 m

This post is following a conversation I had with God the other day. I don't want to forget it and move on, I want to dwell on it and change. There's a reason your young years are called "formative years". They truly are, no matter how much change you go through later... in my formative years, I lost people I loved. I learned that trust is stupid, and that just when I'm having the best of times, the biggest of blows is sure to follow. So I learned to brace for impact. Things right now are good, in fact they are wonderful; therefore the blow to come must be devastating.  Brace . Of course this isn't a conscious thought process... but just the other day, I was reflecting on how wonderful life is for me right now and all I've been given and immediately a deep sense of foreboding descended. Of something awful ahead, undefined and vague. The response to that is what I call "bracing for impact" - hardening, not letting people in too close, bei

So many of my mum friends are anxious about their mothering. They question if they're doing enough, or the right things, or as one mum even put it, whether their babies wouldn't be better off with another mum! I find this tragic. And I wish there was a way to just give confidence to those that need it, because I think the very fact of your questioning your decisions and thinking through your actions critically means you're already doing more than many. But that's not what I'm here to say today. I'd like to share a few reasons why I have every confidence in my own mothering abilities. This isn't to boast, but to hopefully help others see that they, too, are doing a fine job. By the way, I'm the least likely candidate for being a good mother, if a job interview was required for this gig. I never took an interest in children whatsoever; my role models, growing up, were dysfunctional all round; I had a good career going as a marketer. And yet, let m

On honeymoon We dream together. My man and I - we dream. Growing up in a deeply dysfunctional, stifling household I dreamed of escaping to America. That dream kept me alive in my teens, when the bullying at home wore me down and freedom after freedom was being clipped from my life, like prison walls closing in ever further. It was about getting away, but it became a very specific place - America - and I worked towards it. The one freedom I knew they'd never take away was my academic studies, so I targeted everything I did academically to being able to move there. I chose a college where I would be able to get a recognised degree. I worked, I networked, and... I got there eventually. Was it my salvation? No - by the time I went, the situation had changed and I was already free: but I couldn't stay, either. I couldn't not go after working so hard for such a long stretch of my life. So I went, I lived the dream, and while it was hard most of the time there (NYC is hard

My beautiful friend Kristy-Lee has started a Youtube Channel ( link ). She's a mum of five and puts up videos with how-to's on various topics, do have a look, she's great. With five kids, she's got lots of experience to draw from! What she does clearly works for her family - and knowing them, I can see it really does! One of her videos, " 5 bedtime tips " is what prompted this post... I've been thinking lots about routines in the past few months. Kristy certainly isn't the only person I've heard singing the praises of bedtime routines:  everyone  does, it seems! So why do I have an instinctive resistance inside? Obviously every family is dfiferent and Kristy's way works for her family, but for mine, I can't contemplate any real routine apart from what happens naturally and organically anyway. I've thought about it a lot. And I think the vision that's beginning to form certainly isn't for everyone.... Hashing out the argum

Hip Cross Carry This is, in my opinion, the most underrated hip carry! It's pre-tied and poppable, meaning that you can put the wrap on and keep it on all day if you like, popping baby in and out as needed. It can be done with a woven wrap size 3 or 4. This makes it great for toddlers, who can't make up their mind if they want to be carried or not; it's great for short walks to the car - basically anywhere that you need to take baby out without having to tie again. No one ever seems to suggest this carry when people ask, and I think that's because all the videos I've seen so far make it look  really  complicated to do.  But it's not!  So I've taken a few photos to walk you through how it's done, I hope you'll agree it's super easy. I'm using a size 3 here. If you use a 4 you'll have some hanging tails. As you make the knot in advance, you'll get to know after a while how much tail you need. Let's get started! It's

The questions have started. They've always been there occasionally, but now she's 7 months old and we're just beginning to introduce her to food (not that she's particularly interested just yet), this question has become a regular one. My answer can't be given in just a word, though. Firstly, being vegan is a life choice, not just a food choice. It means to abstain from willfully and unnecessarily causing harm to other sentient beings - and that includes not just eating them, but also wearing their skins or furs, using products that were tested on them, or exploiting them in the many ways humans have invented. But, let's keep things simple here and stick to the food, since that is what most people are thinking of when they ask the question. A few thoughts on this. I want her to be healthy. I will do the  best  by her that I know how. This includes, but is not limited to, giving her the best nutrition to thrive. Why would I deliberately give her food t

Before & after... I used to have very good posture. In fact I remember my parents saying, many times during my childhood, that I'd never have a back ache because I had such good posture. These days... not so much. Not a day goes by when I don't catch myself - multiple times! - slumping, shoulders drooping, bent over. I correct it and a minute later I'm back to slumping, having totally forgotten. Good posture is no longer my "normal" and it hasn't been for years! There was a definite point when I went from good to bad posture. It was a choice, can you believe it?? I was probably just under 10 years old, and my family went on holiday with my aunt and uncle's family. I looked up to my cousins who are several years older to me... and they sat like hunchbacks. So that was obviously cooler than sitting up straight! I remember having to practice sitting like that, how it didn't come naturally and how I had to consciously work on it. I just thoug

There's something of a beautiful continuity in this mothering journey - in the space of nine months, my body grew a living, breathing baby of 6 lbs. 5 oz. from just a few cells.... So tiny, skinny and floppy ... and in the six months after that, my body continued to nourish and grow her from that to almost 20 lbs. Added some healthy baby fat rolls! I stand amazed at the fact that my body alone grew, and sustained, this human being all the way to today - and beyond, I can reasonably expect. She has gone from cells, to bean, to plum, apple, and various other fruit sizes, to a tiny skinny squish out in the world... all the way to a chunky, alert and communicative baby. I think that is humbling. The journey didn't begin smoothly: while she was able to feed very soon after her birth, I just could not get her latched on without help for the 24 hours I spent in hospital after her birth. When I left, the discharging midwife said I was free to stay longer if I wanted (ha

Adorable, if I do say so myself... They're everywhere - airports, supermarkets, cafes. They're everyone - men, women, old, young. And they catch me by surprise every time. Baby lovers all over the place! Some talk to me... some talk to her... some just coo, aww, smile or make silly faces. Others elbow their friend / partner / neighbour in the ribs as we walk past! Now I don't mind any of those things. I'm just surprised! Not because I don't think my baby is impossibly cute and stunningly squishy. But in my head I usually think that's what I think because I'm her mother, and other people noticing her chubby cuteness catch me by surprise! Obviously it's because I've never been a baby person. Babies were kind of cute, okay, as long as they remained quiet and preferably at some distance so that I'd be out of the way of any bodily fluid emissions. But all babies looked the same to me. And I would go up to a dog to fuss over it a million ti

This has been on my mind for a little while after comments from friends who are, let's say surprised, at the way I have embraced motherhood given how it was never something I sought after. (Okay, let's call a spade a spade: I never wanted children.) At some point in my life, I've learned a few valuable lessons on mental discipline, and I thought I'd share a little about what I've learned. Choosing to be where I am Me, age 24, living in VA on a camping trip (!) Mental discipline to me is  not  working hard to try to think differently. It's about finding the love for the situation. For example, I was single for a long time.  All my 20's long . I never had a relationship in my 20's. And most of my friends would say things like, "you don't want to be married, do you." (my standard answer to that one was, I just haven't met anyone I want to marry!)  In other words, when I was single I poured all my energy into the wo

It's the year I turn 35 and I can finally and definitely say that my body image issues - which have been with me since my early teens - are a thing of the past. I wish it was only one thing, the magic wand I could offer to all those who are still struggling. I see the magazines at the checkout that are selling the very same stories of fat shaming celebrities, fad diet successes, and fourteen-day detoxes with new faces every month. Someone's buying them, so I know there are still those who are struggling. But I'm afraid I haven't found a magic pill - what seems to have happened is the last jigsaw piece of many has clicked into place, and suddenly the jumble has come together and forms a coherent picture: the picture of the strong, healthy woman I see in the mirror these days. I can share what the puzzle pieces were for me, but what I can't do is connect them for you. A piece or two might be different in someone else's life. But most of them, I believe, are

Source: BBC It was the burning cows. It was the pictures on TV that stopped me in my tracks. Burning cows and the explanations, together with the images, of how a virus had made its way through Europe on live cattle transports throughout the continent - transports on which the cows suffered unspeakable misery, for the simple reason that by being slaughtered in a different country their meat could be labelled as produce of that country. Another picture is forever etched in my mind, thought I can't find it online - footage of those live cattle transports, a cow was being transferred from train to lorry I think, via crane. The crane just attaches where it can, it had the cow dangling in the air by a front leg, which was being broken and dislocated. Didn't matter. The cow, leg broken but alive, was dropped into the new container for further transport. As long as it was breathing on arrival, that's all that mattered. I cried for them. I'm crying right now as I thin