When I was huge and pregnant, the thing that got me through those long restless nights and sick-filled mornings was imagining what I would do with my baby when he or she was born.

At the time, I didn’t know Frog was a girl. And I didn’t know she’d take on squatter’s rights in my womb, so reluctant was she to enter the world.  So I was still all rose-tinted spectacles about motherhood.

I imagined my year of maternity leave to include countryside walks, painting pictures and playing with play doh. I looked forward to Christmas with glee, under the illusion that I would find lots of time to bake with my baby and make homemade decorations.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Continue reading “Colour” »