My week has been a product of my own failure to accept my limitations. Which is the story of my life really. I am aiming to start getting my palm oil free business up and running next month. In order to get going, I of course have to build up the money to do so. Being freelance, I’m in the fortunate position to be able to take on more work to build up a financial pot. Sadly, I was barely coping with the amount I was doing before. So upping my workload has been fairly horrific. Throw in a weekend away and…

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I wish I was that mother. You know, the beautiful one with the perfect hair and makeup. I wish I was that mother who arrives for ballet class on time. I wish I was that mother who takes her child to an eye test at the hospital – and actually remembers to bring their glasses. I wish I was that mother with the tidy, immaculate house and the full fridge. I wish I was that mother who gets invited to parties. I wish I was that mother who has the time to sit down in the evenings with a glass…

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The question I pose to all of the parents out there is simply this: Is life supposed to be this chaotic? Today should have been quite straightforward, after a nice chilled out weekend. On a Monday, we go to a little singing group at the library. It’s all very sedate, sitting in a circle and singing. So, what could possibly go wrong?  We’d get up, have some breakfast, play a little bit and go to the library. And things we going quite well. Libby wanted to play doctors with Lia. Lia’s vocabulary can be rather limiting, but Libby’s always willing…

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Well, the mystery of the spotty child continues. I woke up this morning and the rash had faded, to the point that I was certain it was nothing – you could hardly see it. Off we went to playgroup. By the time we got home at lunchtime, Libby was looking like SuperTed’s mate again. We’re still not sure what we’re doing at the weekend and I’ve resolved to phone the doctor tomorrow if the rash is still there. At least we can find out whether it’s contagious. No doubt it will be gone in the morning and then turn up…

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I’ve never really been a planner. Before having the children, holidays tended to be a last minute affair. If I’m honest, work often went the same way. I have been known to wander off to America, New Zealand and Australia on my own at the last minute. There was also the occasion when a friend and I booked a trip to Venezuela against all advice. We’d had a bottle of wine, we didn’t care. Both of those trips were amazing and I wouldn’t change them for the world. Let’s face it, how many people will be able to tell their…

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