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If you’ve ever wondered what it was like being the classic ‘mumpreneur’, have a read of Polly’s week – how does she find the time?!

I just wonder how many people in the world can claim to have as varied a job as us working mums?  For example, this week…

Sunday – packed up 3 children, one husband and a weeks worth of wet and dirty laundry for a 12 hour drive via ferry back to the UK from a week in France for half term (lovely) – loads of stress and shouting and children crying as you can imagine.  Pray that the french cops don’t stop us as we hurtle north with only one headlight…arrive home 11pm.

Monday – Inset day – no school run.  Preschool still on (ARRGH) – mad dash to get ready and go. Office – go through 185 of the 380 emails received during previous week – before noon. Then lunch for five children and another mum to help tape/man-handle 35 enormous boxes in my middle room ready for collection so we can walk between the kitchen and the living room for the first time since the baby show three weeks ago.

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For most people, finding out they are pregnant is a cause for celebration. But what about if you are only 16? How does it feel to give birth when you’re still a child yourself?

Today we are staying closer to home with a post from Jo Middleton. As well as being Cuddledry’s Marketing Manager, Jo is mum to two gorgeous girls and blogs as Slummy Single Mummy. Here Jo shares her birth story…

I was just 17 when my first daughter, Bee, was born. Her dad, Jonathan, was a year younger than me and was still at school until about three weeks before she was born. At the time I didn’t think too much about my circumstances, and obviously felt incredibly grown up and mature, as you do when you’re a teenager. Now Bee is a teen herself and I am beginning to realise just how much of a child I really was!

A little while ago, sorting through some photos, I came across a short birth report I had written at the time, fourteen years ago now. I read it and can imagine myself there, but it sounds like another person. A child. In some ways it makes me sad to think about how much growing up I must have done in such a short space of time, but at the same time it has an enviable casualness to it, a laid back, take-it-in-your-stride attitude that we often lose as adults.

So in the name of self reflection I have reproduced it here. Unedited. Even though parts of it did make me cringe a bit. I started having contractions at about 3am on the Saturday morning but the report starts when I went into hospital at around 7.30pm, when I was having contractions every 4-5 minutes….

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Boys often get a bad press – sure they are energetic, and often noisy, but with that comes a passion and sense of fun. Today we have a post from Emily Vest, in defence of all things boy!

Emily writes the Brits in Bosnia blog about living in the north-eastern city of Tuzla in Bosnia with her long suffering husband, two energetic boys and food obsessed dog.


For some reason boys aren’t really celebrated. People will flash a look of sympathy at the mother trying to extricate her mud covered sons from half way up a tree. With two boys of my own, I’m quite used to that sympathetic look. But I have to say, I like having boys. I love their energy, their passion, their cuddles, and their sense of humour. I love that they will climb anything and I love that they offer to teach our neighbour’s daughters the same tricks.

I asked a couple of other ‘mothers of brothers’ what they most enjoy about their boys. The mothers responded with enthusiasm and affection, relishing the chance to say why boys are a joy and not just because their nappies are easier to clean and our houses aren’t inundated with pink.

The affection of our boys is a constant delight. ‘They are affectionate, loving and cuddly – with me and with each other. Brothers might bash each other over the head sometimes but they are terribly loyal. Boys adore their mummies – mine are like a couple of baby bear cubs when they cuddle up to me in bed in the morning’, says Nappy Valley Girl. We don’t know, not having a daughter between us, if it is the same for girls, but we like that our boys love their mummies and hope that in our dotage we will have some lovely young men to be protective of us. But it is bittersweet, for there is always the worry that our boys will move away from us when they marry. Already we sympathise with our mothers in law.

In our experience, boys just seem to be more straightforward. ‘They don’t have friendship crises with their friends.,’ says Ella. ‘They just get on with it. They say nice things to and about their friends. Those they don’t like? well, I don’t think they even think about them much less say anything nasty to them or about them’.

Then there is their sense of humour, which could never be classified as complex. ‘Boys think bodily functions hilarious,’ says Angels and Urchins, ‘never stop laughing at slapstick humour (they could watch someone having a custard pie slapped into his or her face all day long) and love being tickled. It’s sweet. I love it’. Looking at the grown up boys you can see this isn’t a phase they are going to grow out of. And when I stop having my grumpy Mummy hat on I have to concede that most of the time it is pretty funny.

Boys are ever so brave, bordering on foolhardy. They will give anything a go. They will climb that tree, learn how to do tricks and jumps. When they fall they laugh and pick themselves up and do it again. Their Mummys get brave too, for as they do all these things, so we end up doing them too. ‘My boys make me braver..’ says Califlorna. ‘I now climb to the top of tall climbing frames to rescue them, cross rope ladders to give them confidence, follow them down half pipes on my skis so that I don’t lose them and ‘get air’ on my sledge following them down the hill.’

Those not used to the energy of boys can find it unnerving.  ‘When friends who only have daughters visit they clearly think our household is out of control,’ admits The MadHouse, ‘as the boys race each other around the kitchen on scooters, have competitions as to who can jump the furthest off the sofa or up in the air. I am used to it to the point of being oblivious (it’s only bleeding or the possibility of a Mike Tyson boxing match that will cause me to stop them). I like it. Not sure why, but it’s so basic that I find it rather endearing’. So yes, occasionally we look in envy at those girls who sit quietly colouring in as our sons are last seen attempting to climb the bookcases. But all that energy does makes them quite straight forward to deal with.

All the Mums agree that a bit (oh alright then, a lot) of fresh air is needed to tire them out. Fresh air play is terrific, messy and life affirming. ‘I love all the mud and muck,’ says Ella. ‘I love that even just going on a walk round the block becomes an adventure, with scary dragons and brave knights at every corner.’ It seems that giving ‘boys plenty of exercise and feeding them every two hours’’ reaps wonderful benefits.

‘I love my boys’ joie de vivre the most.,’ says Diapers and Dragons. ‘They just throw themselves whole-heartedly into everything they do’. There’s no half hearted with boys. They will climb the highest tree. They will ask every possible question about the life cycle of snails and a few that are less possible. They will run and run but they are rewarding, loving and life affirming. Yes, boys should be celebrated for they are terrific.

With thanks to the Mothers of Boys – 23 of them between us and not a daughter in sight.

Brits In Bosnia (www.britsinbosnia.blogspot.com) Nappy Valley Girl (www.nappyvalleygirl.blogspot.com) , Califlorna (www.califlorna.com), Angels and Urchins (www.angelsandurchins.co.uk/blog/), The MadHouse (www.themadhouse-themadhouse.blogspot.com), Most/Least (www.mostleast.com), Diapers &Dragons (www.diapersanddragons.blogspot.com) , Baby Baby (www.sandycalico.blogspot.com ) and The Potty Diaries (www.potty-diaries.blogspot.com )

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