The Noises of Parenting: a silly poem.

The Noises of Parenting: a silly poem.

Wahh goes the sound of the newborn stirring Bang goes the sound of the toddler’s drum OWW yells Dad when he stamps on Lego in the dark Straiiiin goes the sound of a dirty bum   SHOES! cries Mum grabbing baby who’s crawled off once more Come ON now PLEASE? Shoving...
A short rant about: ‘Myself’.

A short rant about: ‘Myself’.

Nope, I’m not ranting about myself, as in me – Media Mummy, Kimberly. (Although in the context of this title, you’d be forgiven for thinking that.) I’m talking about people who use the word ‘myself’ in the wrong way. As in:...
The Real Sunday Roast is a b*tch.

The Real Sunday Roast is a b*tch.

Growing up, Sundays were all about roasts in our house. Everything we did that day revolved around what time the Lamb needed to go in. My Mum’s roasties were (and still are) the best. As we got older, my brother and I *might* help peel the veg, or make the...
A short rant about: Pies

A short rant about: Pies

Dear pie-makers of Britain. What has become of you?  Cue nostalgic music and fuzzy black and white olden days footage from days of ‘yore. Whatever they are. Once upon a pie, I would marvel at my dinner standing upright on its plate all on its own, and savour the...

TV Producer. Baby Producer. Blog Producer.