Buying Lil Baby Tickets: The Great Airplane Lap Infant Lie
The seatbelt sign dings with that specific, mocking chime. I'm currently wedged into row 14B of an easyJet flight to Geneva, sweating through my jumper. Twin A is arching her back with the rigid intensity of a feral cat dodging...
How to Track an Infant Fever Without Completely Losing Your Mind
Itβs 3:14 AM on a dreary Tuesday in November. Maya is radiating heat like a poorly insulated boiler, and I'm standing over her cot, frantically swiping a sixty-quid piece of infrared plastic across her forehead like Iβm scanning a tin...
Dear Past Tom: The Great Beanie Baby Birthday Calendar Incident
Dear Tom of six months ago, You're currently hunched over the kitchen island, illuminated only by the harsh, judgemental glow of your phone and the standby light on the Tommee Tippee prep machine. One of the twins is asleep, radiating...
Surviving Year One: Letter To My Clueless Past Self (baby_jul1)
You're currently standing in the baby aisle of John Lewis, staring at a wall of breast pumps with the terrified, vacant expression of a man who has just been told an asteroid is hurtling toward Earth. I know this because...
Surviving the Absolute Chaos of Your First Real Baby's Out Day
I'm currently standing in the hallway holding a solitary, incredibly tiny sock. I've been standing here staring at the wallpaper for what feels like twelve minutes, entirely paralysed by indecision. I can hear one of my two-year-old twin daughters crying...
The 3 AM Splash Zone: A Very British Guide to Baby Vomiting
It hit my left shoulder first, warm and surprisingly heavy, before cascading down the back of my only clean t-shirt and settling comfortably into the gap between the sofa cushions. I froze, blinking in the dim glow of a nightlight,...
How to Write a Brilliant Message For Baby Shower Cards
I'm currently staring at a pastel yellow card featuring a deeply anatomically incorrect stork, my pen hovering over the paper as if I'm diffusing a bomb rather than preparing for my cousin's Saturday afternoon tea party. There's this pervasive, slightly...
A Desperate Letter to Myself About Surviving Newborn Babies
Dear Tom from six months ago, You're currently sitting on the edge of the sofa at 3:14 AM, wearing a dressing gown that smells fiercely of sour milk and something I can only describe as biological despair. One of the...
The Chaos of Niche Chinese Babies Lyrics in Our London Flat
It was 6:13 AM on a Tuesday, and my living room floor was already covered in a sticky layer of crushed oatcakes and unidentifiable moisture. Twin A had Twin B in what I can only describe as a competitive headlock...