Motherhood: The Final Frontier
After decades of urban sophistication, career hopping, and ambitious cocktail swilling, I traded it all for 11th hour parenthood. Apparently you can’t just hand in your 2 weeks’ notice for this one and there is no vacation..
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Today as we were driving to school I was subjected to a CBeebies Podcast which I had foolishly downloaded by accident and was then forced to listen to, trapped like a prisoner behind the wheel of my own car while Four imperiously held the remote control like a tiny Tsarina.
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I read an article in The Guardian Online today called “Are You A Dummy Mummy” which was nearly enough to prevent me from reading it in the first place because of course the answer to that question is DUH
However, I do vaguely recall that if you put a string of alphabets (as Four calls them) together, they make words, and those in turn make sentences and enough of those in sequence might make up something intelligible.
Or not.
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