Before I became a mum I used to suffer the occasional bad mood. Something trifling like my monthly pay packet being £10 too low – or a few dirty dishes left in the sink – could leave me cold. I would let the grumpiness envelope me like a warm black cloak, enjoying exercising the muscles in my forehead as I scowled for England.

And then I became a mother.

The Mother Rage is a whole new ball game. It takes the black cloak of grumpiness, throws it to the wind and replaces it with a clinging wetsuit, impossible to remove (especially when you have wobbly bits which cling to the unforgiving fabric). Continue reading »