Twelve ‘O’Clock Somewhere

She didn’t need a clock to know the time. She could tell by the piles of folded washing, the amount of toys covering the floor and her toddlers resistance to everything, that is was undoubtedly wine time.

Till Dawn

They swaddled her in the pastels of dusk, eyes falling with the rising of the moon. Her slumber so sweet; Sugar crystals formed on her eyelashes. Sealed with a kiss, on peach coloured lips, she was all but wrapped in a bow.


Do Da day

I left her little love notes, for when she could not hear me.

I played her favorite love songs, for when she could not read me.

I wore her favorite perfume, to accentuate every memory.

I kissed her oh so sweetly, so she would never forget me.

Sucker For Punishment

She waddles through an empty hallway, taking in the silence before the storm. She tries to embrace the solitude knowing full well it will be the last time she hears herself think or thinks of herself, perhaps forever. She sips her tea, warm in her hands and saviors the heat, will this be the last time she drinks a warm drink before it turns cold. She pees with the door unlocked, not expecting another little person to desperately need to be in that same specific space. She calls a friend, for one last uninterrupted conversation.

She laughs, at how she’ll probably do it all over again.





A Day In The Life Of…….

I didn’t start my day with sun salutations and blessing the world for another day.

I didn’t count back from five and shoot myself out of bed like a rocket ready to take the day by storm.

I didn’t drink a glass of cold water to kick-start my digestive system and shake my body alive.


But I did insist on a morning kiss and cuddle from my son, a must I never waiver.

I did let him try coco pops for the first time in an effort to distract him from wanting Jam on toast. (Sugar swap)

I did get on my hands and knees, pregnant belly bumping the floor, as I wiped up spilt milk covering the couch and floor.

I did add extra milo to my milk.


I probably won’t fold the laundry today.

I probably won’t empty the dishwasher.

I probably won’t prepare dinner.

I probably won’t talk to another adult today.


I probably will nap after lunch while my son watches his Ipad.

I probably will make some excuse as to why we can’t go to the park.

I probably will use Facebook to stay connected to a world of lies, misery and misfortune.

I probably will use my heavy belly as an excuse for all of the above.


I know, that I will do this all again tomorrow. Some parts better than others.

A ‘did not’ might become a ‘did’ and a ‘probably not’ might border on ‘maybe I will’.