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Posts from the ‘Mothering’ Category

Reading up.


My friend asked me for a baby reading list. I would never feel comfortable saying “this is what having a baby is like” or “this is what it’s like to be a mother” but I do feel confident in sharing what I liked reading when I was thinking about having a baby, when I was pregnant, and then when I was looking after a tiny new baby, reading out paragraphs to Jude in a whisper to reassure us both that whatever she was doing was normal.

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What no one tells you about motherhood.

In bed.

Blowing bubbles.

Getting ready to roll from her back to her front (can't yet.)


Watching Girls.

20 weeks old.

Now Sunday is nearly five months old.

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Around the house.







Two months to go. Things are starting to take shape. That chair is in the baby’s room – it cost £26 on eBay, and is exactly the colour of a Virago Modern Classic. Children’s books – a mix of our old ones, Oxfam spoils and presents. We haven’t bought her any clothes or, like, nappies yet but if she ever wants to peruse a slim volume quietly on her own, we have her covered.

Summer solstice has come and gone. There has not been a single week I’ve not worn my Barbour jacket. Often – I try not to look at this too often as it’s so depressing – the daytime temperature here is the same here as it is in winter Sydney. Still, it was nice weather for Jude’s birthday BBQ (that was the occasion for the new decorations you can see in the garden). And one thing about England is that the flowers, flowers, flowers are so beautiful and seem to need no attention at all.

An odd side effect of being pregnant is that I can only hold one thought in my mind at a time. It’s not how I’d want to be forever. But for now… people would pay good money for a drug like this.

Some happiness.


I’m having a baby in August. I have said this or made reference to it to many people in real life. And I’ve talked openly about it on Twitter and Instagram, because both of them are like beaches always washed by new waves and nothing lasts forever there. But I have been scared to talk about it on this blog – ridiculously! – because it seems too serious, too permanent, like it’s tempting fate.

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