This blog is bought to you by the letters L and H, the number 30 and a whole load of trazodone. I was diagnosed with bipolar and social anxiety after my second baby in 2007. At least I think I was, my psych has a really tricksy accent.
That’s me. Then there’s my kids.
Girl Child is nearly six (going on 16), loves princesses, Hello Kitty and monster trucks. She’s a genius. I sometimes worry she’s inherited my bipolar.
Boy Child is four. He wears bottle bottom glasses and thinks he’s the biggest thing in comedy since Lee Evans. He loves ‘Garth’ Vader and Stupid Deaths.
Man Child is long suffering. He looks after me, and the kids. And he goes to work. I’m lucky, even though he’s a div who STILL thinks repeating everything you say is a hilarious jape.