I don’t think there is a single parent on earth who can say that bath time is always the favourite time of day. Oden absolutely LOVES bath time and yet there are still days when it’s almost impossible to get him into one. So when I was offered the chance to test out this amazing bath time product I jumped at it! Who wouldn’t want to make bath time fun. And if I’m honest, I really wanted to experience it for myself anyway. So what is this product? We were

We’ve been watching a TV series called “Call the midwife” and the whole show is about delivering babies and the many trials and tribulations around becoming a mother. The main characters are nurses/ midwives and nuns. It’s the kind of show that sucks you in. At 11pm we find ourselves saying “just one more” and suddenly we’ve left no room for sleep. Last night, we watched an episode in which one particular Nun was advocating FOR breast and AGAINST formula and a new mother was so pressured by the idea

This is the kind of question that many bloggers deal with internally. The censorship of who they are and what they have to say. New bloggers will start out being authentic and writing the way they are inspired to write but inevitably, either someone will call them on their swearing OR they will wonder if their words are hurting their brand and preventing them from growing as bloggers. So here’s what I think. If you are writing something and you genuinely feel that swearing enhances what you have to say,

Ugh not again. I can practically hear them saying as they roll their eyes reading this headline. I’m so tired of this race topic. Can’t we just move on already… I mean Apartheid has been over for like a really long time can’t they just let go already and move on. It’s just getting so old… Yup, this kind of dialogue is just too fucking common around here. People are open about it, they don’t even realise that there is an issue. Dove puts out an ad campaign and it’s

When I was about sixteen years old, my cousin died. It was unexpected and it was a huge shock. Everyone was devastated – of course. As anyone would be when a teenage boy tragically and unexpectedly dies. I remember everyone crying a lot. I also remember not crying much. His sister, always my closest family member was broken. I remember being there for her. I remember how in her grief, she would lash out at me. But I do not remember crying. Several years later, my father too, died tragically

Life is exhausting. Honestly it is. It’s one of those things that you can’t avoid, because you know, it’s life. It just is what it is but sometimes, what it is, is freaking hard and leaves you exhausted. Right now, for me, the cause of my exhaustion is my son who had been sick for last few days. My mama heart breaks seeing him struggling and listening to his laboured breathing. We sit up with him in the night and rush off to the doctor when it seems like things

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