I went to the supermarket the other week with two kids in tow. Mostly I try to do the grocery shopping by myself. Not just because I don’t want to manage toilet breaks, hunger pangs and trolley rage – yes, that’s the kids I’m talking about, not me – but because I really quite enjoy supermarkets. I get a kick out of doing per-gram price comparisons, and speculating whether the tin with the redder tomatoes on the label is really likely to deliver the goods. Tragic, I know. Read full article
by Maggie Alderson: What? It’s that time already? … I can’t be the only mother to have this daily reaction when the clock has somehow come round to school pick up time, ... It doesn’t leave much time to plan an outfit. More likely, a lightening check that there are no food stains too visible to the casual glance, before racing to the door. But every school has at least one mother for whom the school run seems to be a kind of personal fashion parade. Spray on jeans, sky high heels, a year round tan and sleek long hair, seem to be the default look. Read full article
