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Writing it to release it - then washing it down with a good wine.
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  • 05/24/16--03:22: The Slow Clap
  •   Yesterday evening, thirteen hours into my day with my two young sons, I sat, slumped on the closed toilet lid watching them in the bath together. The three year old, long and slender, pale, the water only covering his bent knees; The ten month old sitting stoutly, portly and stocky, his two lone teeth […]

    The post The Slow Clap appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.


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      A lifetime ago I joined a dating site in order to find Mr Right. I don’t mind telling you – I still have nightmares about it now. Where do I start? There was the man who spent the whole meal only talking about how he had a severe peanut allergy and how he wouldn’t […]

    The post Depression : The search for Dr Right appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.


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      I know that today the bullies matter. I know that right now you can’t see anything else. I know that you think that all you are is a kid being bullied and all they are – are bullies. One day your life won’t be about school. One day you’ll venture so much further than […]

    The post To the kids being bullied – One Day appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.


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  • 10/14/17--08:58: Mummy’s Depressed Darling
  • Depression is a change in perspective. Nothing can be different in reality from this week to the next but the perception of that reality is completely altered. To bring this point home – I can actually take a photograph of myself and keep that photo on my phone. Nothing in that photo has changed, nothing has been edited. But I can look at that photo on a Monday and completely loathe what I see. I can look at the same photo, the exact same photo on a Tuesday and be so astounded at how attractive and slim I look I will post it to Facebook. Nothing has changed – except on Monday I was depressed and on Tuesday the cloud had lifted. My perspective of my reality had changed.…

    The post Mummy’s Depressed Darling appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.


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    What came first? November or depression? I can’t quite tell at this point. Picture me, if you will – I’m sat in bed, a total of five (yes fucking five) cold sores across my bottom lip and two ulcers on my tongue (a sure sign that my internal organs are waving the white flag). My nose is fully blocked, I am hardly breathing. Have you tried singing wheels on the bus with only one blow hole? There is condensation dripping down the windows, my heating is on full whack and my tired brain is stressing about the bills. And mould. I’m sipping herbal tea and shoving a banana down my throat (please now, this is not the time) because I am trying to get my body to not give…

    The post The pathetic tragicness of November appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.


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    The Saboteur Sometimes I watch my boys playing with their toy blocks. The eldest will carefully place one on top of the other, strategically, methodically. In a couple of minutes he has created a perfect tower, strong and steady. Then, like clockwork, the youngest will bound over and smash it to bits. The saboteur! The bricks fall and they both giggle at the hilarity of this process. I understand the youngest’s urges, I really do. The problem is it’s not so hilarious when it’s your life you’re destroying. Part of my depression over the years has included impulsive behaviour and a sort of self sabotage – especially when my tower is strong and steady. Everything going ok now? Great – what can I do to royally feck it up?…

    The post The Secret Saboteur inside of me appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.


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    January brings with it hundreds if not thousands of folk exclaiming “Happy New Year” like it’s a command; like it’s a militant instruction. “It’s a new year – Be happy or else!” And they sure look happy don’t they? All the well dressed, well drunk, groups of comrades linking arms, counting down the clock and …

    The post The perils of ‘Happy’ Occasions appeared first on Mummy's Writing, Darling.