Today I wasn’t a good mother. I know I wasn’t. Just like last night when you got up for the fourth time and wanted to breastfeed. Again. From both sides. Again. Even after you were in our bed. Again. It felt like you were using your teeth and the feeling of your sandpaper teeth on my exhausted body was just too much. So I told you. I told you I couldn’t do it anymore, didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t want to be your mum. But I fed you again anyway. Because I felt bad. I felt bad for shouting at you and for wanting you to just go to sleep without me. But I fed you again anyway. Because I didn’t know what else to do. But I shouted at you first. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. Leave me alone. I’m sorry. Continue reading
Let’s just be honest: Christmas is brilliant. I don’t celebrate it but I can see how enticing it is. It seems even more amazing now that I have my own child and I can see it through baby eyes all over again. The bright lights, the tree, the presents, the songs, the shiny, shiny things. Continue reading
When waiting for inspiration to strike, the best thing to do is just write. Even if it’s mediocre. Just write. Write now. That’s been your mantra for a while now, but it’s getting old and worn. Like tired old boots. You just dragged out another cliché, while your pen bled from the pain of doing what it hates so much: being mediocre. Continue reading
We do not negotiate with toddlers. Except we do.
The Bearded One and I have always favoured the gentle parenting approach where smacking is frowned upon and locking them in a cupboard is definitely not an option. We’ve always found it easier to listen then explain things to her rather than ignore or distract her from her needs. Continue reading
I’ve started post after post and left them unfinished recently. I’ve not published anything since December and this lack of output has only been exacerbated by recent events. It turns out a completely innocuous letter to my cousin who died of cancer can be scoured for perceived ‘dirt’ and used to spread malicious gossip. Here’s what happened: someone in my husband’s family read my last post, a letter to my cousin who recently died of cancer in Kashmir, took a partial sentence that alluded to my past and turned it into something it really wasn’t. Continue reading
Dear Wajeeha, (I always knew you as Jia)
You were always such a happy baby. Continue reading
I’m still getting a lot of follows and shares from this site. So I thought I’d share a new post here in the hope that people will trot in over to the new site and check it out:
So go on, click the link and join us in our new home.
In the wake of the decision taken in parliament to bomb Syria, this was written by my talented husband for Rahma. Originally published as a Facebook post, I felt it deserved more publicity. Why? Read it and you’ll understand.
Daddy loves to hug his girl and cuddle her each night
And Daddy loves to know that she is safe and hold her tight Continue reading
After Rahma was born, we had visitors, not as many as I thought we would have, but obviously people wanted to see the new bundle. That time was fraught with stress about breastfeeding, latching and supply, anxiety about what people would think/say about me feeding her and her wanting to feed; and above all it was filled with thick clouds of stupidity from well-meaning but annoying people who felt compelled to say helpfully unhelpful things. I collected some of the highlights below: Continue reading
Sometimes you just outgrow where you are and need to move on; or you get fed up of where you are so you decide to escape. Other times, a change just does you the world of good. Whatever the reason, if something isn’t working for you, it’s good to follow your instincts and move on.
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