Bad Mum

Magazine

23 June 2017

Work it baby by Mother Pukka

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22 June 2017

A Beautiful Accident by Dean Edwards

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21 June 2017

Just. Say. No

The word “no” makes up around 75% of my daily conversation with the kids. Surprise surprise, the frequency with which I use it, does not immediately equal well behaved, respectful children. Otherwise, one “no” from me would result in a complete cessation of requests for whatever is being asked for at the time.  As if.

Whether they want to do some impromptu baking (forget it); sweets (I’ve eaten them); a cat (I can barely look after them) or a trip to ANOTHER softplay – the demands can be relentless. 

At the shops, our typical exchange is straightforward enough – I am nothing if not direct.

“Mum, can I please have….”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeasssse…”

“No, we haven’t got the time/money/space/etc”

“But…”

“Sorry, but still no.  Why don’t we……” (distraction)

“But mum….”

“Do you need your hearing checked?”

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19 June 2017

The Breastfeeding Conundrum.

The pressure to breastfeed is unnecessarily overwhelming for mums. The midwives were fantastic through my labour, but were quite matter of fact about breast feeding, and I couldn't get through to them that something was wrong. My son didn't ever want to stop feeding and my nipples were sore and beginning to crack. I rang for the nurse and was told to keep feeding and my baby would unlatch when he was ready, so I did just that. 25 year old me lay on the hospital bed, tired, alone, sore and with no idea what I was doing. 3 hours later I had to peel him off as I was in agony. I was bleeding, confused and I began to cry. The nurse came over and said "oh, he's not drinking he's using it as a comforter. Never mind, give us a buzz for the next feed and we'll help. Don't give up, we'll get there in the end!" ...Next feed? A comforter? Keep going? My nipples were falling off and I was meant to do this again in a couple of hours?!? 

I began to dread feeding time. It wasn't fun but I so desperately wanted him to have breast milk and bond with him as so many other mothers do.  Frustrated and tired I started to question it all: Do other mums actually enjoy this? Why didn't it feel natural to me? Would I be happier bottle feeding?

Looking back now I should have listened to my gut feeling but the nurses and health visitors told me reasons why it would work and how important it was to continue. I persevered for another 8 weeks.

I finally put my foot down when I realised I wasn't producing anywhere near enough milk and I was still in pain. I wrestled my demons and moved on. But it wasn't just that, I felt uncomfortable and awkward breastfeeding generally but also in public, I know it's natural and I know women all over the world are proud of it but it obviously wasn't meant to be.

With my second pregnancy, I was dead set on breastfeeding again. It was in the fore front of my mind and I actually couldn't wait, but becoming a parent taught me to be more flexible, to have dreams and aspirations as a parent but to change and adapt when things don't work out, and they didn't...

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Feature: Your Health Hit!

“ Plankety Plank “ 


Planks are such a great exercise as you can do them anywhere, like me on my kitchen floor. You don’t need any equipment and they will strengthen your core and can help reduce back pain. If you are a postpartum then these can ease you back into exercise nicely. 

How to perform the plank: Place your forearms on the ground with the elbows directly below your shoulders, and arms parallel to the body at about shoulder-width distance. Clasp your hands together. Your body should be in a straight line from your head to feet. Brace your abs then lift yourself up onto your tip toes. now hold this position ( beginners you can start on your knees then aim from 10 seconds) Once you have held the plank for 90 seconds, its time to start making it more challenging by lifting alternate feet off the floor. 




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Feature: Fashion with Carrie!

3 Insta-Worthy Outfits - Summer 17’

As from next week we can safely say that Summer is here – it’ll be official from the 21st June! So, what better way to celebrate than to show you 3 fabulous outfits that can get you from beach to street in style. It’s no easy feat but we will get you Insta-ready so you can go grab a bite and double up on your wardrobe capsules.


1. If you haven’t seen me all over town donning these fabulous trousers, then let me tell you, I will be wearing these all summer. On the school run, brunching with friends, and in the playground. Besides being super comfortable and flattering they are also chic on the beach or around the pool with a bikini top. Easily paired with a throw on t-shirt or vest top to complete the look, but staying stylish at the same time. Love.


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15 June 2017

Grandad’s Paella!

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Feature: Made for Parents

Ewan the Dream Sheep

Around a month old is a good time to start establishing a good bedtime routine, as this can help your new baby to begin to understand the difference between night and day. Even though in the early days, they will probably wake up three hours-ish after you’ve put them down, it is just about giving them cues as to when it is time to fall asleep. 

One sleep product that has been an absolute must have for our little tester, and has become an important part of his bedtime routine, since he was a newborn, is Ewan the Dream Sheep. As I mentioned in my Newborn Essentials, white noise seemed to help soothe and encourage the little one to fall asleep, especially in the early days.

How does it work?


Ewan the Dream Sheep is a white noise machine that has been specifically designed to help settle babies and toddlers to sleep. 

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13 June 2017

Be the change you want to see!

Each year seems to be getting worse and more hateful than the last. I'm talking in the world here, not me necessarily. Perhaps I just notice it more, I certainly take a much greater interest in World Affairs than I did in my teens and early twenties. I may not read a physical newspaper publication but thanks to the Internet and social media I can access any article I want. Due to 'Breaking News' notifications Hubby and I have sat and watched the recent terror attacks across the world unfold. We have commented on the amount of 'fake news' with small snippets of truth intertwined. Perhaps in this instance fake news is a term too strong. It is hard in the shock and confusion of the moment to get all of the facts correct. Once the official statements are given, once the whole story is told and once the dust begins to settle the drama is lost. Those not directly affected can start to move on and confine it to a distant memory.

Negativity Sells

The Daily Fail recently wrote a post about Slummy Mummies and it causes a storm in the world of mums. I have not read it because I wasn't interested. But I know it had the desired effect. It sold papers! Plus, lets not forget, those 'Slummy Mummies' that they bad mouthed all had a social media boost of followers and peak in the sales of their books or other products. The tone of the article is completely irrelevant; negativity sells. It always has and all the while we buy into it, it always will.
Our favourite soaps; Eastenders, Coronation Street and Emmerdale are all based on negative storylines. You can claim all you like that their story lines help raise awareness about some very important subjects, and they do, but the truth is negativity sells. Negativity gets views, it hooks people in and keeps them watching. I haven't watched any of these soaps for many years, but even 15 years ago when I did watch them, everything ended badly. If everyone got to walk off into the sunset and have their happy ending Disney style would the soaps have been as successful? I'm willing to wager not!

It has always been the same

I can't help but feel we have failed to realise it has always been the same. Negativity has always sold. Hysteria has always got the heart pumping and blood flowing. People don't just want to know what is going on in the world, they don't just want facts, they want things that make their life seem more normal or to give them a form of escapism from the mundane. This is why Eastenders and Coronation Street have been so successful for so many years.

The World has Always Been a Scary Place

The world can seem a very scary place at times. I am conscious not to say 'especially now' because there have always been large periods of fear in our communities. In the UK alone over the last 100 years we have seen 2 World Wars, the IRA and many more. Is ISIS just one more in a long line of others that went before them? I don't want to dull this down; people are loosing their lives. Innocent bystanders. My point is this has always happened. These idiots are not original. Reports of gunfire on our streets, of the wrong person being targeted and killed by gangs have become a reality. These things are no longer things of horror stories. The difference is these reports lack hysteria as they are considered isolated incidents. But they do happen.

Plus that just covers the last 100 years. What about the Witch burnings, the Priest huntings, the Civil War?



Is It Time For Change?

Perhaps humans are in need of the scales to tip in the favour of positivity. The idea of clean living and a positive attitude is no longer attributed to the hippies among us, it has become and accepted and encouraged way of living and thinking. The World is a huge place and the truth is most of us won't ever see a notable percentage of it. For each of us our World is actually quite small. As a parent mine has become even smaller. Can I influence the radicalised? Can I stop bad things from happening? No. What I can do is make sure my little World is the best it can be. I can not influence others but I can influence the happiness of my household. I am in control of that and that is what I plan on focusing all my energy on. I have to power to raise kind, considerate and loving human beings. People who not only understand right and wrong but people that understand others have different ideas, different believes and different values. People that understand that those differences are the things that make us special, make us interesting. They are not the things that make us a threat or a danger.

We Need To Be The Change We Want To See

No one is going to make the world a more positive place for us. If that is what we want then it is time to be the change we want to see. It is time for us to take this into our own hands and forget about trying to change the whole world but change the teeny, tiny percentage that we occupy. Stop reading the hate, stop buying it, stop believing it. Negativity sells but it doesn't need to be the truth and we don't need to buy it or buy into it.
I have acknowledged the recent attack on social media but this is going to be the last time it gets a mention from me. Of course my thoughts will always go out to those effected, the innocent lives that have been turned upside down. However I will not be giving the 'Evils' the satisfaction of anymore attention. I am not saying everyone should do this, people should be allowed to process how they need and I am a huge believer that your social media is your own no matter what other people think. For me, from now on, my social media is going to be terrorist free. My day will go on as it has before, I will pause for thought of those that have been lost and their families but I will not dwell. I will not stop visiting London, a city I love. Nor will I let fear rule my life or play any part in it. I do not want my daughters to remember feeling fear at such a young age for something we can't influence.


I am lucky that my girls are too young to understand what has happened recently with London and Manchester. I know they will start asking questions soon enough and I plan on answering them. It won't be easy, I know, but I refuse to shield them from it all. These are facts of our lifetime and they deserve to know. I hope I can help them see that it is a small minority and that these people do not reflect all humans. I hope to teach them to to focus on their positive, to focus their energy on their little percentage of world and to focus on being the change they want to see for their future.

Written by Kirsty from @winnettes

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Feature: Word From The U.S!

An Ode to a US City

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12 June 2017

Labelling Motherhood

Since becoming a mother I have noticed how people, love to ask questions:

So what do you do? 

Is it your day off? 

Are you working part time? 

What do you do all day?

When are you going back to work?

When my close family and friends ask me these types of questions I immediately get this sinking feeling in the bottom of my stomach.  I hate questions like this, and I constantly find myself having to justify my choices. Honestly, sometimes I wish I could just avoid such conversations. 

People began to ask me these types of questions when my son reached the age of one. As a first time Mother, I found myself becoming quite defensive in my answers. I would answer most of the time with, “Oh I am just a Mum.” 

Four years on and two children later, when I am now asked such questions, I really feel like throwing something at the person asking me (obviously that would be highly inappropriate.) Other times, I want to tell them that I sit in my lounge with my feet up, eating popcorn and watch Netflix all day.

Peoples questions tend to revolve around my job status. I’ve often at times found myself waiting in line to pay at a coffee shop or supermarket only to be asked in a general conversation, if it’s my day off today. I always wonder why there’s an assumption that it has to be my day off. Maybe I do not work, maybe it is my day off, maybe I have recently been made redundant or maybe I work for myself. The list of answers seem endless to me. There are so many choices and options in today's day and age that no one really needs to be categorised. The questions and maybe even judgements never seem to stop. I do not understand why we live in a time where everything and everyone always needs a label or has to be placed in some category.  
I want to use this blog to share with you my thoughts on labelling motherhood. To anybody reading this, please realise I do not mean to criticise or offend anyone; these are just my interpretations and opinions on certain aspects of labelling motherhood. 
Don’t get me wrong, it’s natural to fall into certain categories, but the problem I have is when other people decide to question me, label me and then make judgements on my “role.” Only I should be able to label myself, it is my prerogative.

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9 June 2017

Losing Lexi

I was 18 when I fell pregnant. Still a baby myself but a grown up in my own head. The pregnancy was nothing short of miserable. Sorry for the small amount of TMI but my nipples were so sore. I had to wear a bra to bed to hold my boobs in place because if the bed sheet so much as brushed over them, I was in tears. I have never in my life (even after being pregnant again) felt something so painful and uncomfortable!!! I was sick from 6am to 9pm. I vomited everything. Water, food, everything. The normal amount of weight for a woman to put on during her first trimester is about the amount of weight I lost. I spent 90% of my waking hours driving the porcelain bus.

At about 8 weeks I had my first bleeding episode. I rushed to the doctors who said there was nothing I could do but go home and put my feet up. Once the bleeding stopped I was sent for an ultrasound to make sure that tiny heartbeat was still racing. It was. I had a number of bleeds through the pregnancy. The outcome was always the same. After a few days rest and an ultrasound to check on the baby’s heart, all was good. Then the fluid started leaking. Only periodically, and in small amounts.

In hindsight I probably should have been put on bed rest, but because I was a secretary, and I wasn’t overly “active” due to the fact that I spent most of my days sitting at my desk, or vomiting in the toilet, the doctor said I would be fine to continue working.

Because of my bleeding and the leaking fluid, I was referred to a specialist hospital in Brisbane. Being a high risk patient is so very exhausting. Every week we had to make the hour long trek to visit the high risk doctors. It was an all-day event (we all know how doctors like to run on time!) An hour to get there, waiting for anywhere between one and 3 hours, then all my scans and tests, then another drive back to the coast. Through everything, the sickness, the travel, the stress of being high risk, nothing could take away our excitement. Feeling that baby move inside me was the most incredible, unbelievable feeling in the world. I couldn’t even fathom how it was possible. Here I was, utterly in love with this incredible man and we had created life, and I was growing it! It wasn’t until about 23 weeks that the joy turned to fear.

I presented to the hospital with mild contractions, about 4 minutes apart. I was sent via ambulance to Brisbane. I wasn’t dilated and they managed to stop the contractions. I was kept in for a few days so they could monitor me. Over the course of my stay, I was told that there was not a lot of amniotic fluid surrounding the baby. This would mean that in the highly likely event that I was to deliver her early, her lungs would not be as strong as they should be. I was given steroid injections, and before I was released, I was issued instructions to come back in a week for another lot.

I was in hospital for my 19th birthday. I got flowers from my family but it was still the loneliest birthday I have ever experienced. Once again, because I was a secretary and pretty much sat in my chair all day, I was told that I could go home and continue working but if I felt any more contractions or had any other concerns; I was to come back immediately. I wish it wasn’t the case, but I would be back sooner than any of us expected.

I was 24 weeks and 5 days along. It was the 3rd July 2006. I was at work. I started getting a queasy stomach. I went to the toilet and as I sat down, my waters broke. I walked out to my boss and he saw my pale, panicked face. I told him my waters broke. He literally picked me up and put me in his car, and sped me to hospital. He ran every single red light on the way. He took me to the hospital and I was once again given some drugs to slow my contractions and whisked to Brisbane via ambulance.

When I arrived I was taken to the birth unit, I was hooked up to a drip, and given antibiotics (just in case). They did a swab and some blood tests to check for infection, and gave me the steroid injection that I was due to have the very next day. My contractions slowed down a little but didn’t completely stop. I had to wait for what seemed like forever for the swab and blood results to come back. Somewhere between my arrival in Brisbane and those results coming back, my temperature spiked to almost 45 degrees and my contractions came back with a vengeance. I have never felt so sick in my life. I actually thought I was going to die.

In my messed up state I can remember them telling me that I had a massive infection raging inside my body and they needed to get the baby out. If they didn’t, we would both die. I had to sign a consent form. Let me tell you I have no idea what that signature looked like because I wasn’t even able to see properly, let alone write my name in cursive font! As I was being whisked to surgery my man and his mum, who had managed to pull off an hour drive in about 30 minutes, arrived. He touched my hand as I was wheeled past him. I can only imagine how scary that moment would have been for both of them. The last thing I remember before they put me to sleep was lying on the operating theatre, hooked up to all sorts of machines, the lady on my left wiping my tears and telling me that “everything is going to be OK, you are in good hands”, then darkness.

I woke up to the recovery nurse pulling a tube from out of my throat. It sent be in to a massive coughing fit. She put a trigger in my hand and told me that was my pain relief and to click the button if I feel I need more… I responded to this news by clicking that trigger about 50 times, only to be told it cuts off after a certain amount has been administered to prevent people overdosing. Go figure!

Once I came slightly out of my drug haze, I was surrounded by my man, his mum and my mum. The nurse came in to tell me that I had delivered a tiny one pound 9 ounce girl and that even though she was so premature, she was doing ok! I could relax then. She was ok. My man went with his mum and dad to get something to eat while I recovered a little more, and when he got back we were to go and see our little lady. My rest and his dinner were to be short lived. Our little lady had other plans.

I will never forget being wheeled into that Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to see her, surrounded by doctors, covered in tubes. It was the most confronting, traumatic experience of my life. I was wheeled up next to her tiny crib. I could not stop the tears. I reached out and touched her little hand, and I’m certain that if I was standing, I would have collapsed. It was in that instant, that my heart broke. Nothing prepares you to see your tiny one pound nine ounce, baby having drips, oxygen masks, and CPR.

Nothing prepares you for having to turn off her machines either. That decision was thrust upon me in that instant. She was fighting, but she was fighting against them. That day, only one day after my perfect little baby was born, I had to make the most gut wrenching, world shattering decision that any mother could make. Turning off my child’s life support, goes against everything that I thought was my motherly duty. It was like trying to walk forward in a hurricane; you know you need to keep pushing forward but that wind just keeps pushing you back, no matter how hard you try to fight it. My duty was to protect, raise and nurture, and here I was about to make a decision to end my baby’s life. My head and my heart battled against each other. I knew she wouldn’t survive anyway, there was not a chance. But having to actually voice it, and give them the go ahead shattered my already broken heart. When the inevitable happened, I wanted her to die wrapped in my love. Not with strange doctors hands on her, and tubes all over her tiny body. My angel girl took her last breaths in my arms.

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"A boy and a girl, how perfect" ...

Is it perfect to have a son and a daughter?  I read on a family members birth announcement - on Facebook - a congratulations from someone who actually typed:

"congratulations, now you have the perfect family. One of each".

No pressure then.  The poster apparently had a boy and a girl and I felt glad that she considered her own family perfect - is that reality? I bet she has had moments of fucking hating her perfect life ... explosive nappy, screaming toddler, sore nipples, trying to breast feed whilst the toddler needs you to get the potty, giving up breast feeding and then mentally hating yourself for turning to bottles ..... life with ANY children is NEVER perfection.

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8 June 2017

When I Was Growing Up...By Yvonne Telford (Founder Kemikids)

When I was growing up, I went through a few difficult periods that I pray my two young daughters don’t go through. The root of most of my childhood difficulties was not having a mother to love and guide me when I needed her the most.

My mum died in childbirth when she was 35 years old, and I was just ten. She died leaving six children behind while trying to have the seventh one. The year she died was the year that my body started going through physical changes. This was the year that my body started to stench due to perspiration, my pubic hair started to grow and my breasts started to develop.

Apart from when I got married and had my children, this was the period when I needed my mum the most. This was the period in my life when I needed support, explanations, love, encouragement and reassurance. This was the period that I needed to be reassured that what was happening to me was normal, and to not feel ashamed - but instead to embrace the changes.

But since there was no one in my life to explain the changes that I was going through, shame reared its ugly head and I started to feel awkward about my body. I hated what my body was doing; I just wanted to remain a little girl. And since I was the first amongst my friends going through these changes, I remember wondering why the same was not happening to them. This made me feel even more alien and alone. I had no one to talk to. Maybe, just maybe, I would have talked to my older sisters if they had been home with me... but they were away in boarding school.

“Why did you not talk to your father?” you may be thinking. The truth is we did not have that kind of relationship. I am not even sure that my father (who was now the sole parent of six kids under the age of twelve) noticed the changes. Even if he had noticed, I am not sure he would have felt comfortable talking to me. My father is from a generation of Nigerian men who feel some roles should be left to the woman of the house. Plus, he had just lost his wife and he was dealing with his own grief.

To cut this upsetting story short, I discovered a way of dealing with my changing body. I can’t recollect how I discovered it but I found a way of hiding my embarrassing but developing breasts from the world. Without going into the details, I discovered how to strap my breasts flat to my chest. The method I used made me flat once again (like those of my classmates and friends) and this was how I coped through this period of my life.

Fast forward to today. Now that I am a mother, I am very careful about what I say to my older daughter whose body is going through some changes. She is almost ten, and just like me when I was her age, has started going through some physical changes. From my experience, I understand this is an important time in her life. I am so glad that unlike my mother, I am here to explain these changes to her. I am glad that she is embracing the changes and she is not ashamed of her body. For this alone, I pat myself on the back.

Even with the changes my older daughter is going through, she still dresses in front of me and still allows me to wash her in the bath. Right now, I am teaching her how to wash properly. I have bought her first deodorant and we have had several grown-up conversations about the changes she is going through and what to expect.


To sum this up, I am grateful that I have been blessed with the gift of life to do for my daughters what my mother could not do for me. As long as the universe continues to bless me with life, I am looking forward to doing the same with my second daughter. I do not take my time here for granted and from first-hand experience, I understand that the role of a mother is irreplaceable.

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Feature: Beauty and Wellness

A (Fairly) Exhaustive Guide to Non-Toxic Nail Care Products

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Rag'N'Bone Man Parenting Parody - SO funny!!

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7 June 2017

Feature: Fashion With Carrie

The Fashion Faux Pas Making a Comeback:

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6 June 2017

ITS JUST A COLOUR!

Pink! How controversial has this colour become???

As a teen studying sociology I hated feminism. I thought it was outdated and totally irrelevant to modern day society. What a bad woman I was!

This all changed very quickly when I became a parent to my eldest daughter. I wanted her to feel empowered. I taught her about amazing leading ladies from Florence Nightingale, Rosa Parks to Emma Watson and Malala Yousafzai. I taught her she can be whatever she wants to be (which included a goat feeder for quite some time)

Cait has had dance lessons and karate lessons. She has decided she only wants to wear jeggings for huge periods and then decided she wants all things pink. Played with Barbie and loved Thomas the Tank Engine. I had this down! Cait was becoming a well rounded, strong young lady.

Then I fell pregnant and was submersed into the world of gender neutral.


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5 June 2017

Bad Friday


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Feature: Your Health Hit!

Banana Pancakes  -  This is a Kids favourite


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30 May 2017

Monthly Horoscopes With Russell Grant

Russell Grant's Monthly Horoscopes June 2017

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Feature: Fashion With Carrie

Trend Edit: Swimsuits

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26 May 2017

Advert: Parenting with a psycho

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Your Opinion on THAT article: In and out of style

I thought long and hard before writing this. I've been wanting to write it for a while actually, ever since my Facebook feed has become over populated with articles written by various people on the way to bring up children. I don't know how the articles have found me to be honest, but found me they have and having read a few of them I find myself here, wishing to throw my opinion in (for what it’s worth). I almost didn't write what I've been musing over and then that Daily Fail article hit the internet highways, and suddenly it seems like now is the time.


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23 May 2017

22 May 2017

Advert: Bee and Blue Designs

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Interview: Natalie, Founder of Style Me Sunday

I have a great interview for you today from Natalie (@stylemesunday) who seems to be popping everywhere at the moment from an @olivelovesalfie event to filming for Ebay @ebay_uk She is one busy lady! 

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18 May 2017

Business Feature - Interview with MyShowcase Independent Stylist Natasha Leger

Beauty, Business and Babies

The thing is there are so many of us now, and they all have kids - it’s the same story. What I am doing is building a really successful business on my own, as a personal Beauty Shopper and Independent stylist, and I am actually at the top of the league – it’s good, it’s really good”.

Natasha Leger went from PR for brands such as Ted Baker and Kickers for almost a decade, to one of MyShowcase’s leading Independent Beauty Stylists, Personal Beauty Shoppers and Entrepreneur in just over a year and is "Loving It!". 

I went along to meet Natasha and her gorgeous growing bump (soon to be baby number two), at Hampstead's hidden hotspot LLS Cafe, to discuss all things beauty, business and babies. Having first met Natasha at one of her charity showcases hosted by Nurturing Mums in aid of North East London Sands (Stillbirth & neonatal death charity), I was curious to know how and why she made the switch from corporate life to becoming her own beauty boss with a toddler in tow.

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17 May 2017

Feature: Looking After You!

How to create a spa experience at home.

How is the #lookingaftermum going? Have you done much in the way of looking after yourself over the past few weeks? Life has been a little hectic for me and I’ve been neglecting myself a little.  I’ve had very little time to myself. So I decided to create my own home spa. This has been great for many reasons! As a mum you often find yourself short of time,with no childcare and if you are off on maternity leave, no pennies for an expensive spa trip!

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15 May 2017

Advert: THE INSIDE EDIT



Hola! - I love saying that mostly because it’s the Latin in me I’m forgetting about in my old(er) age. My name is Leti and I'm the founder of The Inside Edit and Top 100 baby Products, I'm also Mama to two amazing children!

The Inside Edit is a blog my husband Zac and I started in 2016, it's about life in London and the search for all things inspirational and helpful. 

We write, we make short vlogumentaries and we love taking photos! Our blog also covers parenting stuff too - how to make it more fun with less! The Inside Edit gives you both perspectives, sometimes in the same blog piece and in the same video. Sometimes it’s peachy and at other times it’s full on mum vs dad!



I come from a background in fashion, having worked for Net-A-Porter.com, and Zac from property in central London. After becoming parents we decided to work together in trying to make lives for parents like us easier with top100babyproducts.com, a ranking and guide to bring some sense to the madness of baby stuff.

Blogging came after, when people wanted to know more about us, and where hiding behind illustrations wasn't enough! In doing so we created The Inside Edit. So we’ve kinda done it the other way round with having a start up then becoming bloggers.

What we want to offer is honesty mixed with fun, we believe that parenting shouldn’t have to be such a struggle. Don’t get me wrong there are times... and I mean there ARE times, but why not embrace it and have fun with it. We try to find the humour in the challenges of modern day parenting and laugh at as much of it as possible. Well the alternative is sometimes is a lot more scary so that's the method for now!




I love my kids but I also love my life... or at least the one I'm trying to have (gosh that sounds awful) but it's kinda how we do the parenting thing - happy parents happy kids!

Instagram: @the.inside.edit 

YouTube: Click here




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Feature: Word From The U.S!

When does a Cultural Celebration become a “Drinking Holiday”?

Remember last month when I talked about healthcare in the US? Well this past week Trump managed to pass his repeal of the ACA through Congress, which means that if it passes through the Senate then many of us are all fucked. I had some comments thrown at me last month in regards to healthcare not being “free” in Europe, which technically is true because it comes out of your taxes, but we pay taxes AND healthcare premiums here too, and these premiums will probably be going up again, or even become non-existent for many people. This means that people are going to be looking at thousands and thousands of dollars of healthcare debt again. That’s all I will say about that though, it’s just another hammer in another nail in our decision to leave as soon as possible. Mexico is looking increasingly doable nowadays. Which actually brings me to this month’s subject: the cultural appropriation of holidays.

I worked in the service industry for a long time, and my other half still does. There are certain days that you dread more than others, so-called “drinking holidays”, where people go out and get so shitfaced that they have no issues with passing out in droves in their own vomit in the gutter. These “holidays” tend to involve dressing up in ridiculous outfits and pretending that you come from a different country. You know where I’m heading with this, especially if you have been to the States at certain times of the year, I’m referring to days such as St Patrick’s Day and Cinco de Mayo. (There is also a really, extra ridiculous drinking “holiday” called SantaCon, and if you have ever worked in a bar in NYC you know exactly what I’m talking about).

I’m English and although I have many close Irish friends, and have worked in Irish pubs, I have never been asked by anyone apart from an American if I would be “celebrating” St Patrick’s Day. But I can tell you, so many Americans become Irish on March 17th, and start drinking first thing in the morning. Now, there is nothing wrong with actually having Irish heritage or celebrating an Irish holiday because that’s where your ancestors come from (and there is a very large and very proud Irish American population in the US, with deep roots). There is nothing wrong with exploring folklore and heritage, understanding why this day exists and embracing what it means to the Irish. But there is something really idiotic about getting rid of any of the actual heritage and meaning of a holiday, dressing up in green and wearing a leprechaun hat, and getting so drunk that you end up face down in a pool of vomit somewhere.



Cinco de Mayo is another one. When I managed a small Mexican restaurant in Manhattan it was our busiest day of the year… I would schedule one bartender to squeeze limes all day and another to make margaritas, because even if all people wanted was to get wasted, we still wouldn’t stop making traditional fresh drinks from scratch. So you know, while people would walk in wearing fake moustaches demanding tequila, we would still respect them. 

Mexican Independence Day falls on September 16th, an easy day for me to remember seeing as my other half’s birthday in the day before. Cinco de Mayo falls on, well, May 5th, the day after my birthday (and yes, celebrating my birthday and working Cinco de Mayo always meant I celebrated a few days later). For some weird reason many people here in the US think that Cinco de Mayo is Mexican Independence Day, and therefore celebrate the day. Or others just think that its tequila day. If you ask people what they are actually celebrating (unless they are Mexican or of Mexican descent), they probably have no idea. Cinco de Mayo is actually the celebration of an unlikely Mexican win in battle over the French in the 1860’s. Nowadays it is celebrated in Mexico but not as a national holiday (apart from in Puebla and surroundings where the battle took place). It is also a day of celebration of Mexican culture in other parts of the world, especially in the US where there is a large Mexican and Mexican-American population. So it’s a great day to learn about Mexican culture in general, to support Mexican-owned businesses, and to really appreciate the depth of history that lies in the country. And a great day to really learn about tequila and how delicious it can be. 

But seriously, why on earth would you take the piss out of an entire population by renaming the day “Cinco de Drinko”, pour the cheapest tequila down your gob, and walk around dressed as the stereotypical Mexican? How would your regular US citizen like it if I decided to walk around on July 4th or on Memorial Day dressed as Abraham Lincoln, butchering the Constitution, and pouring bourbon down my throat? Sounds pretty stupid and disrespectful, right?

I don’t have any issue whatsoever with celebrating a holiday or a different culture or religious event. I love learning about other cultures and heritages. I love celebrating people and countries and events. What I don’t like is when people appropriate a certain celebration or holiday, strip it of any meaning whatsoever, and turns it into a reason to get drunk and actually make fun of where the celebration actually comes from. I would never tell someone what to celebrate or when to celebrate it, but come on, there has to be a better way to commemorate a historical battle or a patron saint’s day than putting on a fake moustache, chugging green beer and margaritas and waking up the next day wondering where the day disappeared to. It’s kind of insulting.

The US is such a huge mix of every single culture and heritage and history that you can think of… I’ve never lived anywhere else in the world where I can eat traditional food from anywhere, whenever, where I can hear 20 languages spoken in one subway car at any given time, and where I wouldn’t have a problem finding a newspaper in any language I thought of. I always loved walking through NYC at any time of the year and coming across street parties, and cultural celebrations, and all types of food. Stop by Jackson Heights at the end of the winter and you may come across (and join in) the Hindu celebration of Holi. If you walk through Chinatown in Manhattan or Flushing during Chinese New Year you will see beautiful dragons jumping through the crowds, a huge smash of colour against the winter faces. If the weather is nice you can see Eid celebrated in Prospect Park every year. And of course there are always the wonderful parades for St Patricks Day, Greek Independence Day, Easter, Halloween… And the beautiful celebration of Sakura Matsuri, the Japanese Cherry Blossom Festival, to name just another special occasion. And I could name another hundred, easily. So why, in a country so full of culture and traditions and heritages, have people reduced certain holidays to a day of drinking until you are stupid?!

I’ve been a little ranty these past couple of months, I know. This current administration is driving me bonkers, and I feel increasingly unsafe and unwanted here. However, there are some amazing things here, and I want to make sure that I cover those too. Next month you will hear about my absolute love for NYC and how everyone should visit the city at least once in their lives. 

Written by Jade @lunajadex

If you have an idea for a feature, please do get in contact with me.


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