There are, according to research by a leading psychoanalyst Joan Raphael-Leff, three types of approach to mothering small children.
LORRAINE CANDY: So are you an Organiser mum, Hugger mum or Fleximum? I know which one I am…
Thursday, April 22nd, 2010LORRAINE CANDY: My daughters dismiss me with eye-rolling disdain, and they’re not even wearing bras yet…
Friday, April 9th, 2010Memo to self: Must write letter of apology to my parents. Put it on the infinite to-do list immediately. Not just for putting up with my teenage years, which were like an elongated episode of Ashes To Ashes.
I nearly asked our waiter: ‘Why does motherhood leave me feeling such a failure?’
Thursday, April 1st, 2010Some days you can feel as if you’re getting everything wrong; as if all you do is say ‘No’ and ‘Stop that’ to the little people you love most in life – the ones you thought you’d always say ‘Yes’ to.
I can’t find much in the parenting handbooks about cross-dressing toddlers…
Thursday, March 25th, 2010The toddler’s recent discovery of his inner male has luckily coincided with our first invite to an all-boy birthday party.
LORRAINE CANDY: So why was I standing in tears outside my house last week?
Thursday, March 18th, 2010Melancholy moments like this topple you emotionally. They’re a disconcerting reality for any woman who works, whether she chooses to or has to.
LORRAINE CANDY: ‘Told you they were edible,’ squealed my eldest, brandishing a recipe for guinea pig stew…
Thursday, March 11th, 2010Blasted Google: another of those things that’s supposed to make your life easier, but actually makes it harder.
One minute I’m in Milan with Dolce & Gabbana – the next I’m checking a rash on my child’s bottom
Thursday, March 4th, 2010If ever there were two worlds more different, then I’d like to know about them. The past seven days have rushed by at warp speed.
I still blush about pulling my toddler’s knickers out of my bag at a board meeting
Thursday, February 4th, 2010So this week when I spotted the words ‘working mother-of-six’ in an interview, they leapt out at me like a carbohydrate in a fashionista’s January lunch box.
