Thoughts of an English Mum Sports Day at my son’s school…the final race. There was silence but for the intake of breaths. The suspense was felt all around. The whistle had finally blown and the crowds erupted….. Graceful? Maybe not… Fast? More like faltering… Effort? Top marks…. The line in sight and the cheers had turned to whispers and open-mouthed stares as quite literally falling and flailing ungraciously across the finish line… But finishing first? That went to me… Yep,

Toddler Tales of Turmoil I used to wonder anytime I went out and saw a kid dressed in some mismatched crazy outfit, “What was that parent...

So my 12 year old son asked me today, out of the blue, what a certain rather rude word meant. After spluttering out my tea and drawing...