Banana Who? Banana Spew!

imageI often wondered about parents in airport loos.

You know, those frantically rubbing small people clothes under hand dryers whilst panicking about loosing their wandering brood and missing their boarding call.

You see, Lilly never throws up. Ever.


Day of departure. Mummy’s idea of breakfast: 1 banana, with back up porridge after check in.

Lilly’s idea of breakfast: 2 bananas. After all, no banana in eyesight must remain uneaten, or ‘saved’ for later. What a silly idea.

‘She’s got a funny cough’, I remarked to Rob halfway to the airport, before casually turning to the back seat. Just in time to see Lilly throw up. Twice. Once for each banana.

Needless to say, I found myself stripping my child in the departures hall and joining the queue to wash and dry a vest and a pair of dungarees.

Shame I couldn’t drag my car seat in for the same treatment under the super duper turbo charged hand dryer. Instead, it remains safely guarded in valet parking, left to slowly smoulder.

I wonder just how scary banana spew will look (not to mention smell) when we touch back down in 9 days’ time?


Knock knock. Guess the joke’s on me.

Smugness never pays.  Ever.


The Cup Is Full

full_glassI was recently short-listed for a short story competition.

Actually, it was even better than that – it was a short story slam, the slam bit meaning it involved getting on stage and reading your work as part of the final selection process.


It’s a raw thing, reading your work.


I got some practice when my writing group hosted a performance workshop. I went along curious as ever, albeit a teeny tiny bit cocky. After all, I’m an NLP trainer with loads of sessions under my belt, plus a heapload of corporate presentations. I should have this sussed, right?

WRONG, of course. As I quickly discovered, reading your own work makes you vulnerable in a way presenting training material and company philosophy doesn’t. It’s not you hiding behind someone or something, like a phobia cure or the rollout of a new pricing strategy.

It’s just you, up there, out there. Publicly reading what you have penned in the anonymity and comfort of your own home. It was an interesting experience to be on stage and for it to feel all new again, to watch myself hitting the same old rookie snafus.


One of the not-so-short stories I’d been running in my head at the end of last year was that I didn’t have any support, at home and at large. I was feeling lonely, unhappily buying into the ‘I have to do it all alone’ mantra.

In response, my cheerful mentor continuously suggested that instead I tell myself to

‘Let it be easy’ and ‘Let yourself be supported’

She has patiently repeated this so many times I am frankly surprised she hasn’t offered to personally etch it onto the back of my hand.


So I rocked up at this short story slam last Friday. I got on stage and I did my thing.

I didn’t win but it was an awesome evening nonetheless. Rob was there to film the event and friends came to support me. I had so many people excited that I get nominated, and rooting for me even though they couldn’t be there on the night.

I felt totally and utterly supported, and I loved loved loved every minute of preparing and getting up on that stage. My favourite moment was Rob pointing out that for probably the first time ever, he got to watch me do my thing while I got to watch him do his thing.

To my own surprise, the winning didn’t even matter. I just wholeheartedly loved the experience. As I pondered on it the next day, it occurred to me that at the moment, my cup is actually full.

I’ve been spending time with great friends, making new friends, doing what I love. I have the bestest daughter and the bestest dog. I am about to go on a beach holiday to spend quality time with my family and friends.

If all that night was for is to make me realize that I am indeed not alone and having to do it all, it’s been more than worth it.

Even better, the silver-haired writer who won traveled all the way up from Dorset with her husband supporting her. Just goes to show that even at 73, it’s never too late to get on that stage!


Click below if you wanna watch my 200 word take on the theme of discovery:

Chalk The Sun Short Story Slam




Breathing Space

Days 60 (ish)
Items 288

I’m roughly 30 days over the self-imposed deadline of decluttering 150 items by April 15th.

The good news is by that date, I had actually shifted 154 things. The other good news is that since then, I have kept going.

I may have become a bit addicted to the project. In some instances, it’s entirely possible I’ve been taking things just a tad too far:

Lilly rightfully resisted being cleared out along with the rest of my closet. No chucking the baby out with the bathwater!
Lilly rightfully resisted being cleared out along with the rest of my closet. No chucking the baby out with the bathwater!
I probably should have left some food in the fridge, too
I probably should have left some food in the fridge, too. Condiments alone don’t make a very satisfying meal…

Although the whole thing has gotten bigger than I originally intended, I have at times gotten frustrated with the amount of time invested in the project. Despite good intentions and motivating self-talk, clearing clutter is a whole load of hard work and no amount of doing the funky chicken is gonna change that.

BUT, as ever, the payoff is totally worth it! I actually feel there’s breathing space in my flat that hasn’t been there for years, and that’s despite the fact that there are nearly 100 more things to be axed.


As you will have noticed, I have meticulously (not to say, obsessively) kept track of everything. Yes, that’s partly OTT, but it has proven to be incredibly powerful in realising just how much stuff we acquire as if on auto-pilot.

To be fair, I am clearing out the clutter of YEARS but even so, it’s rather disconcerting to see how many nearly new things I possess where usage bears no justifiable relation to cost of acquisition. I trust going through the process of listing everything rather than simply stuffing it into bin bags will make me much more conscientious about the value I intend to get from future purchases.



Speaking of value, I confess the other thing I have been getting slightly obsessive about is converting my clutter into cash. Sure, about 2/3 went to the charity shop, but the rest has slowly but surely found its way onto eBay and, as of last night, raised enough funds to cover the flights for an upcoming family trip to attend a wedding in <thundering drumrolls>… HAWAII!!!

In this instance, my terrier tenacity (move over, Jack!) has paid off for an experience I am sure to remember for much longer than the thrill of a new handbag.


Ironically though, despite my self-proclaimed progress, a friend recently entered my living and, upon seeing piles of toys on the floor, exclaimed

Oh, so you’re not done yet!?

Well, no. I did, after all, decide to keep the child.

Images:, author's own




Silence Is Golden

silence-is-goldenOr is it?

When I embarked on a six month sabbatical some years ago, I emailed my private address book with a reminder to use my personal rather than corporate details as a primary means of contact.

A ‘friend’ long out of touch promptly replied, inviting himself to my French home, and even suggesting what time worked best around his other commitments. I was dumbfounded as to how to respond. This was someone whom I’d quite frankly forgotten was still part of my contact database, but saying so outright seemed rather harsh, though honest.

A close friend consulted for advice offered a simple

Just don’t reply.

I hadn’t occurred to me that not answering was a viable option. I wanted to neither accept the self-issued invitation, nor renege with some half-hearted excuse. So following my friend’s suggestion, I did nothing.

I suppose this method of non-communication works in the same way that not making a decision is de facto making a decision to remain with the status quo. Admittedly, it felt odd not to react, but it produced the desired result.

What got me thinking is that recently, this route of no reply seems to be an increasingly popular option, and I am not quite sure what to make of it. Email invitations remain unanswered, lingering in people’s inboxes unresolved or worse, deleted without remorse. Text messages are ignored in a similar fashion.

Not that I am the innocent party in all this. My reply time is notoriously bad, and calls quite often go to voicemail because answering whilst juggling girl, dog and dinner doesn’t add much to the conversation.

But in a world of never-ending distraction and stimulation, are we becoming blasé towards a meaningful personal exchange? Dominated by social media, have we become more informed about where near strangers are holidaying, or what they’re having for dinner, than we are about what’s happening with our closest friends?

Rather like the saying that speech is silver but silence is golden, is speech becoming tarnished in favour of ominous anonymity?

Personally, I’m sitting on the fence on this whole thing. I mean, would I rather be served a lukewarm excuse for not participating in something I am organising, or take the radio silence for a polite no?

I guess I myself have gotten a lot more selective as to what goes in my social calendar. In my ‘working’ days I basically said yes almost by default, unless a previous commitment prevented it. These days I am prone to question whether what I want to do is worth the effort of organizing the internal or external childcare required. I ask myself whether it’s an activity I would truly enjoy rather than my RSVP being prompted by a vacancy in the diary.

As a general rule, evening activities are easier as long as Rob is at home for bedtime. This doesn’t rule out a girly afternoon tea or the like, but when it comes to daytime engagements, or those that require a start earlier than 7pm, I will strongly favour attending my writing group over say a matinee movie.

Anyway, I think a lot of times, we simply don’t answer invitations to events we have no intention of attending because there’s just so much information bombarding us electronically that things simply get filtered out without any bad intentions. Even so, I’m rather perturbed by the trend, even as I perpetuate it.

So is silence really golden?

I can at least vouch that in toddler terms, unless they’re sound asleep, it is anything but.

silence toddler postcard



Bagging It

Days 18
Items 108

That’s right – 108 items have been sent packing!!!

The seemingly hairy challenge of purging 150 things is now basically in the bag. The scary thing is, I still haven’t progressed out of the one corner of the living room I vowed to tackle. How on Earth could so much stuff be hiding in 5m2???


I hurt my bbrown paper bagack last week and was feeling a bit on the sorry side. In typical fashion, I launched myself into each day at full speed, only to collapse on the couch by early afternoon. My mood wasn’t exactly lifted by the continued sight of a messy desk, and I have to admit to beating myself up a bit for not progressing as planned. Nevertheless, I decided to let the project go for a few days as putting undue pressure on myself only served to make me feel worse.


Taking a break also gave me time to think about how to avoid the inevitable ‘recluttering’. One of the reasons my desk is always piled high is that I have neither system nor desire for dealing with paperwork. Therefore it all gets deposited in the vainglorious hope that one magic day it will take care of itself. (haha, who am I kidding?!)

So I started by setting myself up a sweet little file for collecting those stray papers, with one tab for ‘action’ and one for ‘file’, ever hopeful that these actions would actually be performed rather than simply creating an orderly way to stash paperwork out of sight, out of mind.


But the problem is that I don’t file. So what I really needed was a creative and compelling reason not to let papers congregate into mountains.


In a stroke of genius, I decided to make my filing system my vision board. I had been dragging my feet about doing a new one for 2013 – in hindsight with good reason!


First, I set myself up with the base ingredients, including an audience (optional) and refreshments (optional, but highly recommended):

  IMG_1339   IMG_1342   IMG_1338    

A few quality hours on the floor later,  meet the finished product:

IMG_1343   IMG_1371

I love this file so much, I wanna hug and take it to bed with me!


Funnily enough, with a creative element thrown into the mix, my decluttering efforts regained momentum.


First stop – clean desk:

BEFOREIMG_1290AFTERIMG_1369  IMG_1366  IMG_1364


Second stop – bagging the bags:

BEFORE IMG_1293        AFTER IMG_1360


I thought this area would be pretty hard as I love (used to love?) my handbags, and I had some pretty sweet brands hidden in there. But then I remembered my money mentor saying that

The things you don’t use have no value, no matter how much you once paid for them.

Incidentally, this downgraded most of my beloved bags from invaluable to valueless, and they were duly put up for adoption at the local dress agency/consignment shop. After all, you don’t really need a Mulberry or Gucci adorning your arm on the playground. Well, you might do in Hampstead Heath, but in my humble part of London, I can still pull off ‘yummy’ without a Hindmarch to accessorize my Hunters.


IMG_1357Technically, this concluded last week’s goals but seeing that I had diddled, I went straight into the next challenge – clearing a closet full of dresses, skirts, suits and coats that had escaped previous culling stints. I dutifully dragged its contents to the bed before both two and four-legged life reclaimed my attention so on the bed they remained – for two days and two nights. The bedroom is home to our only full length mirror, so trying anything on ‘after hours’ (aka Lilly’s bedtime) was out. Equally, I couldn’t face shifting the pile back onto the sofa to have it stare me down all evening. Instead I shifted myself to sleeping on Rob’s side of the bed.


The man’s impending return propelled me back into action; aided by a bit of soulful Norah Jones, a cup of tea, a sneaky chocolate biscuit (mercifully undetected by my hawk-eyed attaché) and another guiding mantra by the lovely Sarah Phipp, who coincidentally inspired this project:

Only put in your wardrobe what is worthy of you.

Well, according to this, my wardrobe may have shrunk in size, whilst considerable going up in value.


This now leaves to me shift discarded clothes, and tackle the rest of the living room.


Although with all this newly created breathing space, where oh where is that poor Easter bunny going to hide his eggs?

Happy Easter everyone!


Images:, author's own




All Of Lilly

childrenI went to Ikea with a friend and her toddler last week.

To be honest, I’ve never been a devout fan of worshiping at the mother church of cheap Scandinavian design. Yes, it’s handy to find just about anything you might need under one roof, especially when you’re either short of time or money, or both.

But the experience of going to Ikea is normally not my idea of fun. Therefore even the mere thought of doing it with two toddlers in tow should have been pretty much my idea of hell. To my surprise, it was actually the most fun I’ve ever had walking through the mighty doors of the blue and yellow emporium.


As we were cuddled up in bed later that evening, Rob asked me how Lilly was that day. I thought about it for a while before replying:

Well, she was Lilly, in all of her many facets.


I had a broken picture frame to return, so our first port of call was taking a ticket at the downstairs customer service area. In my limited experience, all Ikeas pretty much have the same layout. This means that once liberated from her buggy, little miss had free range to roam, and a fervent desire to exercise that option. Exiting back out into the parking lot as well as venturing past the tills and straight into the store were her first ports of call. Basically anywhere the opposite direction of where I might have wanted her to be held a magnetic pull of attraction.

Cue mean mommy standing in her way, or worse, interfering with the stunt of throwing herself down the escalator, and her displeasure was quickly voiced with a series of all-out-flailing-on-the-floor tantrums. Lilly does not enjoy having her free will curbed in any way.

Matters vastly improved with the goodwill gesture of food, alleviating the unmistakable first signs of a pre-lunch serotonin crash (basically, to quote the link, ‘when serotonin levels are low, we’re more depressed, and when they’re high, we’re happier’).  An empty stomach does not a happy toddler make. Thus fortified, we proceeded in peace, albeit at a snail’s pace, through the various display areas in search of the children’s section.

Our progress was undeniably similar to how people often describe success:


There was lots of toing-and-froing, exploring, admiring one’s small self in mirrors, dashing into crevices and charming other shoppers with a hugely excited ‘I am ever so pleased with myself’ grin. Her ultimate triumph was to hide between two closets, proudly shouting ‘Boo!’ (or ‘Baa!’ in Lilly’s world) when discovered.

Once we made it into the mecca of Children’s Ikea, there was more exploring (duh!), kitchen playing, rocking horse, or, to be accurate, rocking moose riding, running around, pushing chairs and dancing on tables (a move that significantly diminished in cuteness when replicated at home).

If you can brave it, the children’s section of Ikea is actually a great place to spend a few hours with your kids, although you’d better keep an eye on your wallet with the same resolve as you do on your offspring, or its contents are likely to disappear faster than a toddler in the toy section. I mean, really, Lilly can’t possibly survive another day without a workbench to play with, right?

                                                  children in ikea          more children in ikea

I experienced all of Lilly that day, as I do most other days. I had curious, inquisitive, strong-willed, free-spirited, funny, playful, outraged, loving, compassionate, adventurous, I-can’t-stand-for-the-utter-injustice-of-being-put-back-into-my-buggy. I had sleepy cuddles, and mischievous chasing-Jack-with-anything-that-has-wheels. I had utter delight and bottomless despair (well, for a few minutes, anyway).

And I love Lilly for all of who she is. She amazes and exhausts me in equal measures. I wouldn’t have it any other way.



Let’s Get It Started

Days 4
Items 13




Getting_StartedOk, so we’re a few days into this decluttering challenge – have you started yet?

Do you even know where to start?

Unless you have a looming deadline (like a move, or a collective challenge!), getting started can often be the hardest thing. Why?

Well, for starters, you can pretty much guarantee that things will get worse before they get better. The very nature of decluttering will have you dragging things out from musty corners, from the back of closets, from underneath sofas, or wherever it is that you stash away what you don’t really need. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Maybe. But just like unwanted emotions or past traumas that we compartmentalize in our psyche, the stagnant energy attached to unwanted or superfluous things continues to loom in our space whether we see it or not. To quote Ann Wilson, The Wealth Chef:

I really believe there is some strange quantum physics thing that happens in cupboards, lofts, garages, wendy houses, garden sheds and bascially all those places where stuff gets stuffed. Stuff in these spaces and places breeds and as it does, it causes a negative vaccumn in our lives, not just sucking our money quicker and quicker into a black hole but our energy and vitality too.

So yes, in the process of unearthing your hidden ‘treasures’, you might create more mess than you signed up for, initially making you feel worse than before you even started.

If that’s the case for you, STOP. BREATHE. RELAX… and trust that it will be worth it in the end.

One of the best things a mentor told me about avoiding overwhelm is to start with just one space at a time: one specific cupboard, closet, or even drawer. One corner of one room. Start with a small space, and you’ll quickly see progress whilst avoiding turning your entire house into a tip and becoming despondent with the project.

Keep it fun by putting on some funky music (Black Eyed Peas, anyone?), get your groove on, and stay hydrated. Shifting your body as opposed to getting cramps crouched on the floor will help you shift and sift your belongings. Lilly is just learning to rock it out to Sleeping Bunnies – perfect time to widen her repertoire! (sorry, insider parent joke)

Also remember that our goal is about 5 things a day (or whatever target you have set for yourself). Keep it simple, focus on the end result, and celebrate your successes, no matter how small.


On my end, I was quickly able to shift a dozen items of clothing and a pair of boots to the charity shop. These were items that I had previously slated for disposal, but never actually gotten rid of. A job half done, basically.

As for my next move, I have set my sights on my desk, aka my residential dumping ground, and the top of a closet, home to my collection of handbags.

IMG_1290     IMG_1293

So far today, I’ve succumbed to the avoidance bug, mainly getting distracted changing sheets, doing laundry and other thieving little things.

I am confident I am not contagious across the ether though, so don’t let yourself get infected, share your successes… and watch this space for progress!


PS: I also have five items listed on eBay but the auctions are still live so not counting them just yet!


Images:, author's own




Challenging Stuff

cluttercartoonAs I mentioned before, I am on a perpetual decluttering mission. But I feel as though I am being tasked to take things to a new level.

The message to shift stuff that is no longer of use to me is coming at me from all angles. And for good reason, as the things we hoard are both a physical space drainer as well as a metaphor for everything we hold on to that no longer serves us.



My latest reminder on the subject came via a Facebook post from this excellent site:


If like me the thought of doing a spring cleanse and detox just doesn’t feel right with the cold weather then there is another way…

If you want to regain some lost energy, removing broken, unused and unwanted items from your home and work area is just what you need, even if it’s just sifting through that mound of paperwork or admin. For each and every item that is brought into your home, there is some type of energy attached to it. Start de-cluttering and thinking more carefully about items you choose to have in your home.

Why not try committing to getting 100 items out of your house in the next month or so. It sounds a lot but I promise you, once you get started it will be so cleansing.


In addition to this making complete sense, I am always up for a challenge, so I am upping the ante to getting rid of 150 things between now and April 15.

Yes, 150 is a lot, basically 5 things a day, but I am kind of excited. I already have some thoughts on what will be moving out over the next 30 days, but more on that later.


For now, how about if we support each other in this? After all, what better time to do a little spring cleaning, knowing that spring will come eventually, even in the UK?

Post your personal target for items to get rid of by April 15 either here or on Facebook, and let’s keep each other motivated and on track.


From clutter HQ, I shall be reporting on progress!



Thieving Little Things

Thomas_Crown_Affair_thief‘I’m just gonna do that one little thing…’


You know, I’m just quickly gonna hang up the laundry, do the dishes, vacuum the house, fix myself a snack…. before I sit down and cherish this God-given time when Lilly naps.


I used to be much more ‘productive’ (in a non-domestic way!) when Lilly was rubbing her eyes by 9.45am. I could never quite work out how on earth she was ready for a two-hour nap after having been awake for barely that amount of time, but who the hell was I to argue?

It actually worked great – I would either sneak away to the local coffee shop to write, or promptly set up office on the sofa. It was early and I was still fresh, and there was plenty of time to deal with the needs of the day after lunch.

These days, the girl doesn’t nap much before 1pm. It’s still great, and even though sleeps shortened considerable for a while, we now seem to be back on a fairly reliable routine.

But somehow bad habits are creeping in, like rats nibbling away at my time pantry. ‘I’ll just quickly do this one thing’, I tell myself as I emerge from the bedroom, having seen Lilly off to the land of nod.

For surely I will be better equipped for creativity with the laundry on the line rather than lingering inside the machine, with the kitchen cleaned instead of cluttered. And hey presto, before I know it, one ‘little’ thing has lead to another ‘little’ thing, and another one after that, and 45 minutes have passed in a flash. By the time I sink into my chair, I am exhausted, still haven’t eaten and am acutely aware of all the ‘stuff’ that still needs doing even after Lilly wakes up.

Unsurprisingly, I end up more tired rather than more creative.  I find each little thing rarely ever takes the ‘just 5 minutes’ I mentally allocate to the task. I am also concluding that the energy I may have freed up by again seeing my living room carpet has been deducted from my own energy level in equal if not greater proportion, with the bottom line benefit equalling a big fat zero.

Worse, these energy-thieving activities are also alive and well during Lilly’s waking hours. ‘I’ll just quickly empty the dishwasher’, I tell her, ‘and then I’ll pick you up for cuddles’, or ‘I’ll just do X before we can Y.’

I know there’s a saying that your kids will remember time spent with you rather than a clean kitchen floor, but still, just how high is my tolerance for piles of dog hair in corners? Even so, I have often moaned that my house is hardly sparkling clean despite the time I devote to the task, so the scales of effort vs. result are already well out of balance. And the stinker is that domestic chores undo themselves practically as soon as they are done.

MISSION IMPOSSIBLESo my resolution going forward is to do less of what doesn’t matter, and to focus on activities that boost rather than drain my energy. So far, I’m doing good – despite the fact that my sheets need changing, there are porridge bowls piled in the sink and the dog’s infected foot needs a saltwater bath.

Ok, maybe the latter shouldn’t the put off for too long, and neither should the olfactory clue of a dirty nappy be ignored for any length of time.


But as for the rest, well, I say let sleeping dogs (and dust bunnies, and complaining husbands) lie…




5 Top Tips For Expecting Parents

expecting-parentsI ran into one of Rob’s friends the other day.

He and his wife are expecting their first baby, so inevitably the infamous ‘So, what is it like?’ crept into conversation.

I find that one tricky.

On one hand, I want to convey the joy and fun of spending time with your child, of watching them grow and discover new things, interacting with their environment and developing their own personality.

On the other, I think it’s grossly unfair to gloss over the tiredness, frustration and mind-numbing routine that is an inevitable part of parenting.

It’s not that I welcome the outlet to moan about how bad it all is. It’s just that if you only focus on the fun, and ditch all the drudgery, I feel you are setting new parents up to fail. And there are already enough parents feeling like they are ‘not enough’ because they can’t live up to their desired parenting ideals 100% of the time.

On top of these considerations, there’s the danger of imparting too much information to someone who quite frankly has no frame of reference for being a full-time parent, the ever-present conundrum being that you don’t get a trial run in having kids.

A few months ago, I wrote about my experience of giving too much unsolicited parenting advice. A friend suggested afterwards that maybe the best advice I could have given instead is for expecting parents is to just enjoy themselves.


So here are my ‘5 Top Tips For Expecting Parents’:


1.  Enjoy yourself!

Just enjoy your pregnancy, and cherish your time as an individual as well as a couple.

Even though a certain amount of ‘nesting’ is part of the deal, there’s no need to spend the majority of your maternity leave cleaning every crevice, or batch cooking until your freezer is bursting.

Sleep late, go for walks, people watch in your favourite coffee shop, visit a museum. Do whatever makes your heart sing. Go out for dinners and do things as a couple. See your friends.

Becoming a parent of course does not permanently prevent you from doing any of this, but it will require more organization, and often more cost. The last time Rob and I had a dinner & movie date, we spent £120. Half of that was for the babysitter, and the emergency taxi home.


2.  Listen to parenting advice with one ear only

When you’re pushing a bump around (or a pram in due time!), everybody will be keen on giving you advice, including non-parents.

Listen politely, but be selective on retention. Take any advice with a grain of salt, especially when coming from people who do not even have children.

Noone can give you an accurate point of reference for understanding an experience you have not yet had, so inevitably you will listen and think

‘Yeah… but that won’t be me!’

That’s cool.

Enjoy it.


3.  Trust yourself

This is your experience. You’re a novice, but you can trust your intuition.

Parenting is confusing, but it’s also instinctual, even though we live in a world where trusting your instincts isn’t widely encouraged.

For everything you do, there’ll be someone, or some book or some website, telling you to do it differently. Do what feels right.

When you don’t know what to do, be ok with that, too.



4.  Accept help

It has taken my fierce ‘ I can cope’ mentality a while to come around to this one.

As a matter of fact, my mantra for 2013 is

‘Every time help is offered, I am saying yes’

You might not feel like you really need the help that is being offered right in this moment. You may worry about being a burden by accepting the help, or you may think you should be able to manage on your own.

Doesn’t matter. Take it anyway.

Give yourself a break, and let someone support you. Accepting help does not mean you have failed.

There’s no prize for doing it all alone. Parenting is not a job you do in isolation. Above all, you need to take care of yourself – for your benefit, and that of your family.

So let yourself be supported.


5. Ask for help

If no help seems immediately available or forthcoming, ask for it.

Again, asking for help is not a sign of weakness. It takes courage and self-awareness to know when you need support outside of yourself.

Do it.

If you have to pay for it, do that too. It’s worth it.

Something else I’m working on…


But above all, refer back to tip #2 and don’t listen to me!

And please, do enjoy yourself, now and as a new parent!

Bon courage!