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    Met Mum London mum and wannabe illustrator. On a mission to find a decent way into motherhood without losing herself. More...

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Archive for the ‘Mummy stuff’ Category


Small steps

The cold morning air is streaming through the sunroof as you drive down Highbury Grove. You switch the iPod from The Night Garden to Diana Krall and turn the volume up. There is a parking spot about a mile from your house, but you don’t mind and take a detour to pop in the newsagent. [...]

A bit of mummy wisdom – part I

I recently came across the blog of Alice, a 24 year old London mum-to-be. Reading through her entire blog, I was taken back to my own pregnancy. Her worries about the baby not being there any more (stop testing, Alice!), her battle with tiredness and the effect a great dose of hormones can have on [...]

So how do you choose the right school for your child?

I am exhausted. We started looking at schools in our area. Apparently you have to think of a) which church to attend, in case you want to send your kid to a church-run school, b) which nursery to send your child to, if you are keen on getting her into the primary school at the [...]

2009 – the highlights

The ever so fabulous Mothership asked me for my highlights of 2009. I was pondering a few days about what 2009 had in store for me, and I came up with just one highlight.

I BECAME A MUM!
Becoming a mother has been such a life-changing event; ‘highlight’ does not quite cover the ups (or the lows) [...]

Why the end of size zero is just a big fat lie

Over the summer, a wave of articles that celebrated the end of size zero and therefore the reintroduction of womanly curves appeared in about every British women’s magazine. But despite various attempts to put an end to glorifying the image of malnourished women, recent fashion week reports and magazines alike are still plastered with pictures of clearly underweight models.

Being me

Every now and then, a tiny bit of the old me resurfaces and gives me a smile. The-putting-on-makeup-me. The-strutting-around-in-heels-me. The-choosing-cream-white-coat-over-practical-me.
So when Big M took me out for dinner on Saturday, I felt more like being just me than I did over the past seven months.

Fashion forward style lessons from my baby daughter

Thanks to Liz at Violet Posy, not only did I make it in time to the Gap to admire Stella McCartney’s cooperation with the high street brand, I even hunted down one of the one-piece sweaters for little L.

Nursery style ideas

Yes, she is seven months already. And I know that some parents manage to finish the nursery six months before the baby is born. But as you might have realised already, I am not the first in line when it comes to accomplishing household related tasks. Hoovering the floor? Tackling the laundry pile? Painting the hallway? I’d rather flip through the pages of my Grazia, thank you very much. Especially when I have to start off with this:

I am a crap housewife

Since becoming a mother, my days have been filled with much more housewife stuff than they used to be. In my childless, naïve and slightly illusive mind, I had envisioned channelling all my energy into looking after the baby, the husband and our home, once I had left that high-profile but mundane city job behind me. Our spotlessly clean house would smell of freshly baked bread, baby food would be cooked by myself and every night there would be a healthy and delicious dinner awaiting Big M when he’d come home. HAHA.

Mummy needs a break. Or: a day out in London

In the six months since little L’s birth, I have barely been separated from my precious baby girl. There have been about ten evenings where I nipped out for an hour or two, leaving Big M behind to keep a close eye on the baby monitor. An easy task, as little L usually doesn’t wake until the wee hours, once mummy has tucked her in and kissed her good night. Then there have been about six times she spent an hour in the gym crèche, guarded by the lovely Jane and her staff. But all of a sudden, little L decided not to like staying there anymore, and Met Mum had to be called to her rescue via the intercom. So there it went, my tiny bit of me-time.