A helping hand

Always eager to help, Fig’s latest offering is a tiny hand to steady the umbrella on a rainy, windy day in Manchester.

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My little adventure baby

I heard about Adventure Babies on the grapevine. By which I mean a Grandma told me about it one week at the local library’s Rhyme Time session. Basically, she said, your baby gets to roll around in the kind of nonsense you’d never let him roll around in at home, even though you know he’ll love it. Or words to that effect. I was sold. Fig gets messy but the house doesn’t? Sign me up.

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Eighth and ninth month birthday

Time, as you know, flies. At supersonic, Concordian speed. My baby is already two thirds of a year old, and I cannot believe there was ever a me before him. And yet at the same time, I cannot believe he’s really mine. Crazy. Being a parent, I have come to realise, is all about dichotomy.

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