Tag Archives: photo

The Gallery: Motherhood

I missed The Gallery last week, whilst Tara was on holiday. And I wasn’t going to have access to the internet this coming week, so I thought I’d have to sit it out again.

But how could I pass up on the topic of “motherhood”? It’s what has brought me to blogging, what has redefined who I am and made me question my life priorities.

To sum this all up in a photo though? Impossible, I thought. Particularly as I would only have 24 hours in which to do so.

I scanned through the hundreds of photos I’ve taken since Moo was born 18 months ago. I looked at scans, pictures of pregnancy tests, photos of a newborn, photos of a very tired new mum, and photos of a blossoming toddler. I can’t picture motherhood – I haven’t experienced the half of it yet. 18 months is no time at all. Moo will show me all of what is to come.

But then my eye was caught by this photo.

It seemed to sum up so much to me. The reliance of a child on her mother, the trust, the bond. Also the love-driven obsession of a mother with her child, recording every last detail of this precious creature. Moo will rely on me less and less as years go by, but that trust, that bond? I hope that remains. And that love, that obsession? I can’t see that diminishing anytime soon.

And I know that to be true. Because I have the evidence in front of me. This is also motherhood. The link between my mother and my daughter. The unending love my mother has for Moo, and vice versa.

I can only hope that my journey in motherhood will bring me such joy, so many years down the line.

It’s certainly off to a good start.


This was a post in response to Tara’s brilliant Gallery, with this week’s prompt of “motherhood”.  Once the McLinky is up, I’ll add a link so you can visit the other entries from around the Internets.


The Gallery: Still Life



Life. But still.

This was a post in response to Tara’s brilliant Gallery, with this week’s prompt of “still life”.  Please click over here to see the other entries from around the Internets.

Paradise found? or lost?

As those of you who follow me on twitter will know, I recently set myself the task of finding a way to a playground I knew should, as the crow flies, be within walking distance of my house, but which I’d never been able to find a route through to. See, between us, and when google maps showed me the playground should be, there was this:

with no clear path through for those of use with buggies…

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I found it! It’s great, just some baby swings, some big swings, a couple of slides and some other bits and bobs (including a very cool piston based whistle thing… you’d understand if you saw it!).

Anyway, Moo and I had a great time at the swing park, she got in some good walking practice, still holding my hands, and had great fun on the swings (a word that has been repeated time and time again…). So I figured we should make it a regular event.

So we went again today. At school kicking out time. And there were some kids there – big (16/17ish), medium (12/13ish) and small (7ish), and a couple of babies came and went whilst we were there (Moo really loves those swings!). And everyone got on. Despite having a little niggle about whether there would be any problems with “youths”, I didn’t see any. It was lovely.

And so I decided to see if there was a quicker way home. There are paths through that coppice, and I was fairly sure there was access to it from the road behind us. So I ventured in…. and found this:

It was beautiful. And peaceful. I live in a housing estate of modern, lego-style box houses. It’s near a main road, a motorway and an airport, although it’s near fields, and the motorway gives us a handy escape away from the city. But here was a little glimpse of the country in the middle of suburbia (and explains all the brambles in my garden – the estate was clearly built on land that used to be like this!).

But there was a niggle in the back of my mind. I was a little afraid to be in there on my own, with Moo. It was too quiet. There was no-one else around. I kept trying to put my paranoia to the back of my mind. We should trust people. We should enjoy the solitude.

And then 3 boys in hoodies, with bandanas over their faces, came zooming past me on a motorbike.

Ah, that ideal world I think I live in. I’m afraid I won’t be going through there on my own again.