I think any working parent will be able to relate to just how stressful finding childcare for your little ones can be. I was really fortunate when I initially returned to work having had Noah, because my Mum (a qualified nursery nurse herself) was able to take the reigns so I didn't have those worries. But having worked as a Nursery Nurse myself too, I have seen the toll it takes on parents when they're trying to find the right form of childcare that suits their family best. These days people work all manner of hours and honestly it's so hard to find what you need, there isn't any childcare manual sadly, although I like to think that is probably the closest thing to that.


Noah started school in January, half days, every day. He turned four before the January term began and luckily for us, that means his school of choice will let him attend every afternoon in a class they call Foundation. It's great, it's been undeniably positive for him and us. I'm watching him flourish more every single week, he'll come out with little phrases that I can't fathom where he has learnt it so it has to be school. Just this week he was telling me that if ships break in the ocean, and leak oil, it will make all the fish poorly 'that won't be good at all will it Mummy?'. It puts a smile on my face, for the first time in four years we're not the sole basis of his learning and it's lovely to hear him spout off these facts that even I forget myself.


I feel quite lucky in that my small circle of women is a one that supports, builds up and congratulates each other on everything. Whether one of us got dressed before noon within the first six months of motherhood, or that we managed to cook something other than beige - I know these girls will be there with bells and whistles to triumph together. It seems the vast majority of mothers I follow across social media are very much the same, we understand it's a roller coaster and that the times that we're sitting around all day in our lunch stained pyjamas are far more regular than we all care to admit. If I stood here today and posted on Instagram how I'd lost three stone and suddenly had hips to rival Shakira, I can bet my bottom dollar that people would congratulate me on working so hard. (Note, don't fear, this will never happen, cake is too appealing) But when the likes of Kylie Jenner pop up on my feed, people aren't so kind, I'd go as far as to say they're cruel - with harps of 'this isn't what a real mum looks like'. What's with the double standard, and who is the judge and jury of 'real mums'.


My baby you're really a boy now, not that you haven't been since birth but you're growing up so fast, I don't want to take my eyes away for a second. I couldn't be prouder to be your Mummy, you amaze me every single day. Though you're changing right in front of me, your personality remains the same and I couldn't be happier knowing you're still the kind, caring, sweet little boy that started to show way back in 2014.


I'm being cliche before I start this, I already know. I really didn't want to do a whole 'new year, new me' post, because that couldn't be further from my mindset - but it feels like the elephant in the room not to acknowledge it's a brand new year, especially given how much happened in 2019. If you're new here, I am now a single Mum, my choice and one that I am happy with, however it doesn't really mean that 2019 wasn't incredibly hard. A lot of upheaval, admittedly not as much for me as there was for John, but still a lot of change in our household which me and the boys are still definitely getting used to. I don't want to go into everything too much, as I'm so mindful of how what you put online isn't really footprints in the sand, more of giant footprints in wet concrete, so I don't want to put anything out there that I may want to take back in a few months or years. You have to be considerate of which I'm trying my absolute best to be. So 2020..