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Showing posts from January, 2017

Where To Find A Glimmer of Hope

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Our future is suddenly uncertain.  Our simple values of humanity: to be kind, thoughtful and welcoming, have been kicked to the kerb, beaten and spat upon, all in a matter of days.  Yet, I want to invite you into a new world with a glimmer of hope, hidden away in your local library, or children's school. This time last year, I was teaching English in a London school, my last term before maternity leave.  Since then, I've nurtured our little ones, day and night feeding, singing them to sleep and reading the same book multiple times.  As I begin to consider an eventual return to the classroom, I'm feeling a little bit hopeful, maybe a window into a better future, filled with possibility, change and kindness. Even the worst behaved, or most apathetic of students, in my opinion, can enjoy a good story.  Sharing books, discussing, reflecting, writing about our response to Literature is therapeutic as well as informative.  Lessons can induce laughter and sometimes tears.  

Mothering Rebels and Rebellious Mothers: The Women's March

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Little Red Riding Hood from Deans A Book of Fairy Tales. Illustrated by Janet & Anne Grahame Johnstone. 1977. If 2016 ended in a dark cloud of anxiety, 2017 has begun with a snowstorm of sisterhood and a tidal surge of rebellion.  On Saturday 21st January, we’d usually all go swimming or I’d head to the shops while my husband takes the boys to the playground.  It's also Trump’s first day as President.  Because of this, we’ll be joining millions of people across the world's cities to march together in the name of justice, equality and the rights of all humans, present and future.  This is the Women's March. As a human, woman and feminist, I support the march.  As a mother, I feel it is fundamental for me to join the protest, to show solidarity with people the world over, to register discontent with institutionalized prejudice and casual misogyny, but also to feel good about our children's future.  There's nothing like that wonderful feeling of marching w

10 Unexpected Highs of Motherhood

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January has sobered us up and stolen all our glitter.  The once-adored and illumined Christmas trees now lie naked and abandoned by the bins.  The world is back to work and pavements pound with brand new runners.  My news feed is full of New Year Resolutions that "all mothers should be making", guilt that I shouldn't be allowing myself to feel and tips for a healthier, fitter, happier 2017.  I choose to glance at an email from a company who know the ages of my children, jolting a hazy memory of an airbrushed "Bounty woman" (an odd sight amongst labouring women, anxious partners and around-the-clock NHS staff) disturbing our post-birth recuperation, giving me forms to complete. I assumed she was part of the team and dutifully signed on the dotted line.  Ink staining paper as post-birth blood stained the towels. This company now sends me an email saying that while"nursing a newborn", I can use "8 tricks to look beautiful before 8am", includin