Y’yummy mummy   You get your Armani You get your Pri-marni Your 6am sale chaser, the Next big splurger and your Blue Cross piranha The ones content to swim through an aisle of lackluster But I need a gut buster[…]

The lady with the holes in her top I know why they are there, those two tiny holes. I know that you cut out the label from your top. I know that you did that for comfort and for relief.[…]

Together we must be bread Feed ourselves Let our kids pull at us and pummel our doughy bodies in to kneaded readiness We must rest, we must allow ourselves to recover, receive oxygen and grow.   And together we must[…]

People love to say things like “there is no such thing as normal”, “we are all on the spectrum” blah blah blah…not true. If you truly are, then you know or feel that it is not true. I know normal[…]

As he cries, As he cried, my chest crumples, crumpled in to itself. My ribs and their contents compress in to one firm ball of paper thin, spiky, cutting silver foil. The pain is sharp and growing and indescribable to[…]

I have apparently got a condition called PDA, ASD. It means that i appear to be (or actually actively become) extremely lazy – it’s called Demand Avoidance. I seem to be unable to commit to anything. There might be few[…]

Pants on the radiator… The Boy’s second attempt (or is it third?) at no nappies. “Have you thought about trying him in pants?” says The Boys pre-school key worker. She is nice enough…but seriously. What the flying shitting fuck do[…]

“Time to go down stairs now”… The boy yells as his lego playing is coming to an end. “You’ve finished now have you?” He continues at the top of his voice. It’s 6:31am and whilst Toddle is in his high[…]

Good Morning you git. The beginning of the day: The morning seems ok, The Boy starts from the second he opens his eyes, possibly before as he blurts out random stuff all night long, dreams, nightmares, what he’d like for[…]