This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

Today has reached 37 degrees where we live outside of London and I have spent two days now air-con hopping down the high street because the temperature in my house has been much much higher.

Air-con hopping is my solution to surviving this heatwave. Making use of the establishments that have invested in air con, whether small businesses, cinemas or public libraries. It is costing me a fortune in drinks and lunches but for some reason investing in a co-work space that would provide the same environment feels a bit daunting. It reminded me of when I had two babies and I had one day where I could work. I very rarely had actual paid work in but I would leave the house anyway with my laptop to get me away from washing machines and piles of toys. Think of the hours I had where I wasn’t cleaning. I remember being so productive. What a joy. It’s been nice to get out, see people and bathe in the cold air. (Too cold actually, I took jumper with me today). It’s been nice too because I have really been able to sit and read and write, whereas at home I would find something else to do. There is always something else to do.

There is talk of school closures across the country but ours hasn’t committed to it yet. We were given the choice of an early pick up and I was torn over what to do but eventually decided that school must be cooler than my house. To bring him back to the house and sit inside all afternoon without any friends and nothing to do would surely be some sort of torture. The decision is ours at the minute but as I mentioned to the teacher, I feel unable to make a decision without knowing how hot it actually is in the classroom. (She couldn’t tell me a definitive temperature) When I asked the teacher what she would do, she remarked that at least at home they could be hosed down or eat ice lollies. But without a garden I can only offer one of those, which incidentally is the currency with which I have been bribing them to walk home (as without a driving license I can also not offer them an air-conditioned taxi service) - so it seems like whether I pick up early or usual time it’s going to cost me a fortune. At least the little Morrison’s has had a restock.

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. Now that tweens will be banned from social media - what will they do all day?

2. Luteal Lobotomy

3. Heatwaves bring out the best in us

On Substack

1. I thought I wanted a 3-day work week

2. How beneficial is social media to freelancers?

3. The financial risks of a hetero marriage

4. What Adolf Hitler taught me about parenting

5. I’m in a situationship by

6. Everything you need to know about The Motherhood Minute Magazine by

7. There should be a special name for burn out when you have kids or are a carer for other people [paid]

8. For the Love of June - tips for travelling with kids this Summer with

9. Stop calling me ‘child-free’ and

TV

1. Amandaland Series 2, BBC (2026)

   Really enjoyed the new series for how silly and totally relatable it is.

Books

1. Beyond the Sea, Paul Lynch, 2019
   This is a survival story of a pair of fisherman that get lost at sea. It’s brutal and beautiful at the same time. A really gripping read.

2. One Day I Shall Astonish the World, Nina Stibbe (2022)
   I love Nina Stibbe for her observations of every day life and I love how she has woven them into these lovely characters in this story. It is ultimately a tale of female friendship but the characters make it for its soap like quality all told in Nina’s signature style.

Podcast

1. When you are not needed as much, DIFTK with Frankie Tortora and Steve Folland

   Doing it for the Kids (DIFTK) Podcast is where Frankie & Steve talk about the realities of freelancing with young kids. In answering a listener’s question about what to do when they aren’t needed as much by their family and by work, Frankie response nearly had me in tears. Listen!

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Come meet me in the comments and share what has been distracting you this month,

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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We are now in the second day of potentially five where the temperature in London and much of the south of the UK, will exceed 30 degrees Celsius, in some cases reaching as high as 38°C. (That’s 100.4°F) This is not weather we are built for here in the UK and with talk of school closures, who knows what the week will unfold like but so far it has already been tough. There have been arguments with the children at home and I have witnessed people shouting in the street at each other and people being rude to each other on the bus.

It’s hard to remember when you are tired, exhausted by the heat and the lack of sleep to be kind. The experience of a heatwave tests our relationships as well as our physical limits. It is tough.

I have noticed though a little silver lining in amongst the intense heat and humidity. Hot weather is a real clarifier.

I am currently sat in an air-conditioned café writing, but I could be on a twenty minute bus journey towards London (i.e. further into the boiling furnace) to attend a networking event, which I had pencilled loosely in my diary. I haven’t got any work in this week and I had previously said to myself, if I am free, I will go. Usually, that is my rule.

I don’t often make it to these events because I am working or there is some other more important commitment that usually involves my children, a medical professional or both. But when I can go, I feel like I should go. I always blame “more important things” but today I have no excuse other than in this weather I don’t want to.

I guess I have wondered for some time whether networking in this particular group was worth the effort and perhaps the heat has forced me to make a decision.

Financially it certainly isn’t worth it. This is not a group in which I will find my ideal client or one that will pay what I believe my services are worth. The businesses are too new, or too small. There just isn’t the money available and for them they won’t see a return on investment for some time. I also don’t have enough time to hand freebies out, if only to get more of the same clients coming my way. But going to this group has never been about money anyway. It has been about connection, friendship and a support network. The trouble is with it not being financially worth me booking work around it, I have not been able to tend to the relationships well enough for them to thrive. Such is the curse of being a part-time freelancer.

I am not saying there is no point in going at all. I imagine I will go back one day. But asking me to travel in 34 degree heat with the potential of fainting on the bus home, or in the non-air conditioned venue once I sweat through my dress is a definitive no.

Along with the heat, I further justify to myself that I don’t always feel great after going. I often feel I have wasted time, or have not been made to feel my best for whatever reason. Sometimes it is great fun and I meet friends, but more often than not this isn’t the case. I wonder if by going I have crossed a boundary I didn’t know I had set. I am making myself go to something when really I don’t want to or I don’t see the benefit of.

Like a gut instinct, the need to survive in hot weather trumps unnecessary effort and stress. I wonder if that in being more short-tempered when the weather is hot could actually be a good thing if it helps us to better define our boundaries. The heat helps us to be clearer on what we want and what we don’t want.

In the heat our tolerances are lower, but that tolerance becomes crystal clear. So perhaps it will help in the future, when I am torn between doing something or not, I should ask, would I do it in 34 degree heat? Because if the answer is no, then maybe it isn’t actually something that I want to do at all.

Have you made any harsh decisions in the heatwave?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off payment of your choice, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

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Day 5 of my menstrual cycle, 5 days after my period starts, I know I had lost something because it comes back in a flood. A thought, like a train that has been stuck in a tunnel or outside the station at a red signal finally able to travel at speed. When the signal finally goes green, I wake up.

It’s not so much I can’t think in my luteal phase, but that I don’t.

My mind is paused. Quiet. I would say at peace but if it were a sick child with a temperature, I would be poking and prodding wondering why they didn’t want to play, and considering a trip to Urgent Care.

Unresponsive.

In those two weeks before my period, my Luteal Phase, I exist in the world rather than actively participate in it.

As my progesterone levels rise and my estrogen levels plummet, brain fog falls on me like a blanket of cotton wool. Thick, fluffy and hard to see through.

I go through motions but I don’t contribute, I don’t analyse and I don’t much consider alternatives. I am just living my life, passing through with the usual routines. I am on autopilot; no thinking necessary.

But as my period eases, and I start to feel myself again physically, the fog lifts and my mind switches back on.

I see patterns I didn’t see before, I notice things that had been there all along. I wake up.

I had always thought of it as a super power.

Around that time my body prepares to ovulate and I am on high alert to find a mate, both to seek them out and to be sought out. I can sense it, my usually fuzzy hair always looks glossy mid-cycle and that’s just one sign. I saw it as a super power that gave me oomph - an extra boost but now as I head into perimenopause I see it as my attempt to survive. Rather than turbo-boosting into the air from the pits of luteal hell, I am climbing up with whatever strength I have left, clinging onto whatever I can to survive. The glossy hair only lasts a few days too.

When brain fog hits, I long to have interesting intellectual thoughts – not so much that I see it as part of my identity, I don’t think I am that smart, but I would like to be. I don’t feel like myself if I am not thinking.

Without that acceleration of thought when the fog lifts, I wonder if my brain might just close off entirely and yet I have come to depend on the surge. (There would be no Substack articles without it!)

Perhaps this is a warning.

I could lose it if I let it go.

Estrogen is leaving me - by the bucket load, it is inevitable. But I can train my brain to work harder in my luteal phase, or at the very least I have to attempt to stave off brain rot through a doom scroll addiction. Dare I say I need to come off social media again?! Clearly, I am not helping something that is already happening to me biologically. I wonder if I could be speeding it up?

I feel a little silly for writing this, as surely anyone might read it and deem me unemployable, or scatty and perhaps if they already know me well enough, they will already know this about me. But I feel it is worth sharing because I can’t be the only one.

Does any one else feel like this?

Has anyone found any solutions or coping mechanisms?

A side note:

This piece spilled out my my head onto my notes app as I heard Karma Chameleon playing upstairs. The kids know it from the Despicable Me movie we had watched earlier that afternoon and my partner was playing it from his phone at bath time.

I galloped upstairs and called, “Are you listening to my George?!”

“Who’s George?” I heard my son ask from the bath.

My partner said, “Boy George – that’s who sings it.”

“Oh, I thought it was George Michael,” was my reply.

Perhaps I haven’t quite come out of my luteal lobotomy phase just yet, after all.

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off payment of your choice, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

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If you have been following the news you will have heard that in the UK the Government have pledged to implement a ban on social media for under 16s from next year.

I think this is great news and while I absolutely agree there is more to be done in terms of making the tech companies more responsible for the content they are throwing into our own and our children’s eyes, I think it is important step in the right direction. It is in many ways an acknowledgement from those up high that this social media business is NO GOOD to our health and like cigarettes and alcohol, its use needs to be monitored and managed (and probably taxed).

I have enjoyed the rhetoric that has followed especially from younger people with high screen times, who are understandably angry. Action should have been taken ten years ago when social media became commonplace, or years before that when we were kids and let loose on Chat Roulette and MSN. Anyway, I digress. They are angry and asking what will they do now, now that they won’t be on their phones doomscrolling for nine hours a day. When asked this question by a news reporter, one child said they would “stare at a wall.”

Now like the Old Lady I am, (my son’s words) I wanted to share the kind of things I got up to in my day when I was around 11-16 years old. In the golden age of my childhood before my Nokia became a staple and MSN took over my evenings.

It wasn’t perfect but it was a childhood away from screens and miles away from the childhood our kids will have if there is no ban on social media.

I am worried about our kids. I am worried that we live in a world today where lots of the activities we did as children that I have listed above won’t be available unless we pull back a little and give our kids freedom. We need safe outside spaces and youth clubs, we need places kids can go and be kids. We need them to be able to explore and learn freely without judgement but with barriers to extreme content. I get there is a need for screens sometimes. They are a distraction and they pass the time. Hey, even in the late 90s early noughties we had screens, but we balanced it better with outside stuff - the kind of free stuff we rarely see kids do any more, like playing on the street, climbing trees and wandering around the local library. Of all the generations, we know it has changed because we saw it happen in real time. We lived it. Our lives were taken over by digital advances, the internet and phones and we weren’t protected.

We know what we lost.

And we know what they will lose, too.

With free access to social media, we are building a life for our children where not only are they exposed to horrific content easily, but they are not building the tenacity to be outside on their own. They aren’t building the resilience and the confidence needed to become street wise teenagers. They aren’t living their real lives enough alongside their digital lives. So we need to share these ideas, because there is plenty to do when you are bored other than scrolling through social media. Although, I know I need to remind myself this sometimes.

What do you think?

What kind of things did you do in a childhood before phones and social media?

What activities can we offer our children as an alternative to doomscrolling?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

Buy Coffee

This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

I am writing this in the days before half term in disbelief really that it has come around so quickly and I have barely anything to show for my time.

I wonder, when I will stop assessing my value against how much I can do while the kids are at school? I am trying to rest and relax - make the most of my quieter work schedule as a project comes to a close, but I will always beat myself up about doing less. I doubt that will ever change.

Speaking of work, last week I had a work day out. As part of my role in overseeing a packaging redesign, I was required at a photo shoot. I love going to photo shoots. They are always fun. The photographer and food stylist do most of the work, and as the designer you are there to make sure the design is realised (or can be with a little photoshop jiggery pokery) and make unrealistic demands (Quick - make a decision - the butter is melting under the lights!!). I was able to meet one of my clients, someone that I have been working for on and off for years, in real life. It was strange for me as someone who almost entirely works from home, but it was really nice. Nice to be around people, and to chat and get to know each other - nice to get out of the house.

The stressful bit was getting home before the nursery closed, and I made it just about. My son was none the wiser and both of them actually despite having had long days were the good kind of tired. I realised I needn’t feel guilty about it. They had fun too.

The photo shoot was near Lewisham, which is in the corner of South East London in which I live, but it’s still a 45 minute train journey away. For the journey home, I went to St Johns station, which is the same station I took an injured parakeet to in search of a volunteer bird rehabilitator just over 2 years ago. It was the evening when I dropped him off with a broken wing in a cardboard box, his little chirps calling to the birds in the trees around us as I walked up the hill from the station. I cried as I left him. I felt guilty for taking him miles away from his family and I worried I would never know if he got any better. I never did hear anything from the lady I gave him to, but as I waited for the train last week at the same station I got off the train to take him to his new home, a parakeet flew past me chirping away and I thought that could be him. He seemed pretty happy. I hope it was him.

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. I am being stalked by Lighthouses

2. I’ve run out of battery

On Substack

1. Am I choosing writing over motherhood? and

2. School PE ruined exercise for me too

3. The Botox Psyop

4. What are we doing here anyway?

5. Classic Books For Moms (There’s that lighthouse again!)

6. Is your Man just doing the dishes, or is he actually doing the work?

7. ’s motivational Why Not You?

8. The Runaway Dog Theory of Parenting

9. Things Millennial Moms Treat Like Luxury Experiences

TV

1. Race Across the World, BBC (2026)

   I always enjoy this show. It’s the people that make it so watchable. What did we think of this year’s bunch?

2. The Queen’s Gambit, Netflix (2020)

   I really enjoyed this. I think as we hurtle towards a world of AI, I found comfort in this period drama with real life chess playing, analogue boards and wall mounted phones. Set in the 1950s and 1960s the story follows Beth Harman, who is an incredible chess talent, in her quest to become the greatest chess player in the world.

Books

1. Soldier Sailor, Claire Kilroy (2023)

   Kilroy writes so vividly about being a mother during a child’s early years, I had moments where I felt like she was pulling memories out of my own mind. She doesn’t hold back and I loved that about it because that is how motherhood feels for me; absolutely relentless.

Podcast

1. Emilia Clarke on How to fail with Elizabeth Day (2026)
   It’s humbling when someone who is so incredibly talented and legendary in a show you really loved (she was the very best of them as well) just doesn’t believe she’s all that good. Yet her story of surviving two brain aneurisms is proof that she really is incredible. A really good listen.

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Come meet me in the comments and share what has been distracting you this month,

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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I do remember noticing when I was younger and still at school, that I was very much in line with the school calendar. At the time, I had been conditioned for years to get ready to go in September and wind down in July. My energy had synchronised with school, which was helpful then.

Now that my eldest son is in his second year of full time education, I am beginning to notice it again.

Perhaps it is obvious that when working in alignment to the school term dates, one would crave rest when a half term is due, but I think it is more than that. I am not just ready for a break, I am zonked.

It’s May and instead of getting that Spring vibes ready-to-go feeling I would usually get - or have done in my adult life, I am feeling the sluggishness start to set in. The why bother vibes as we enter the pre-summer holiday crescendo.

This is the first year I have had a school-aged child where I have an idea of what to expect during the school year and I remember last year that the second half of the Summer Term was hard going. Harder than end of Autumn term and the lead up to Christmas.

I am bracing myself.

In years to come it will be exams and whilst I am not hugely looking forward to those, at least they have a purpose beyond keeping parents entertained. In primary school it’s a mass of sports days, end of year shows, Summer Fairs and checking in with the teachers. All alongside preparations for the youngest one to start school in September. It sounds like I don’t like being around for my kids and doing the school stuff, and that’s not true. I want to be a parent that was there, but why does there have to be so much to be there for? Why do we need to do all of these things in one single half term?

As we approach the Summer holidays there is more pressure too to get the work done at work and not let it leak into family time over the Summer, although I feel like this Summer is my last chance to work for the majority. (Next year I am not sure I will be as keen in putting two kids in holiday club, but then again if it makes financial sense, my arm may well be twisted!)

It’s also no coincidence that I am feeling this way as my once temparate living room starts to warm up in anticipation of a heatwave this weekend. (I already have the fan on.) The heat always makes me lethargic. I really can’t be bothered to do anything and as luck would have it the heatwave leads right up to a week off with my school-aged son. I’m not sure I am ready.

Is anyone else feeling this too?
That they can’t be bothered - there is too much to do overwhelm as we approach the end of the school year?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

“When you’re working on a project, you may notice apparent coincidences appearing more often than randomness allows – almost as if there is another hand guiding yours in a certain direction. As if there is an inner knowing gently informing your movements. Faith allows you to trust the direction without needing to understand it.”

Rick Ruben, The Creative Act

Then I started noticing Lighthouses everywhere.

I was drawing them for Elaine’s Substack redesign inspired by her love of Round The Twist. I had picked up Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse in the library a week or so before. I noticed one on one of the last episodes of Love on the Spectrum I watched last week and there on the calendar hanging in our hall that I made from the children’s drawings - a lighthouse - predetermined to be there this very month.

I know that there is a phenomenon where if you are looking for something, you will find it. For example, when we browse the charity shop shelves for toys, I will almost certainly spot a trend of things being chucked away at the same time as something I have thrown out. I live in fear the presence of the toy will inspire my kids to look for it when they get home and that there will be tears when they discover that it is long gone. It could be a trend that people throw things away at the same time perhaps based on seasonal use or how long the toy has been around for, but more likely I am noticing that thing, (for example, the Fisher Price ice cream cart that I sold on Facebook marketplace) more now that I am conscious of it. I tot up the encounters and measure them in a way I never did before. The toy jumps out at me more often when I am aware of it. This is also the case when we buy something brand new, I will almost certainly spot a good second-hand alternative right after buying it, despite looking for months.

This is called the Frequency Illusion.

The frequency illusion (also known as the Baader–Meinhof phenomenon) is a cognitive bias in which a person notices a specific concept, word, or product more frequently after recently becoming aware of it.

Wikipedia

Despite knowing that this is likely a bias and not actually a more frequent sighting, I couldn’t help thinking of the quote and reasoning that there must be a message in there that I needed to receive, if only I could understand it.

Lighthouses are a beacon to warn sailors of land near by. Their light circles around them reminding people that there is potential danger up ahead marking rocky shorelines and shallow harbours. Its symbol as a warning made me pay more attention. This was surely a coincidence I couldn’t ignore. Then I am thinking - why now?

The timing of this is that I have started to pick up my work in progress again. (That’s the book that I am writing that I don’t want to call a book because I have redrafted it so many times, and put it down so many times that I am afraid I will never finish it!) I am conscious of story structure and point of views in writing. I had picked up Virgina Woolf’s To The Lighthouse for no real reason other than I had heard of it (and I had read and enjoyed some of her work before) but I then discovered that it was an innovative novel for it’s time because it breaks the Victorian values upheld in novels and sought to do something different using a stream of consciousness and a less plot-centric narrative.

I reasoned that the message must be in this book. I started to read with earnest. Perhaps, Woolf was going to give me the answer to how I will write my own story. I briefly imagined myself receiving some award and attributing the entire success of my not-yet-written book down to my reading To The Lighthouse and perceiving all the inspiration I needed to get on with it and finally make this book happen. A magical force was guiding me towards her - I was certain she had something to tell me.

But anyone who has read To The Lighthouse will know that it is so hard to read. I didn’t know if I was one character or another and like Shakespeare, the older style of language is like reading an entirely different one altogether. I am half way through and I am not entirely sure what has happened, if anything at all. I am finding it impossible and completely not enjoyable at all.

Then I wondered if this was the point? Maybe I needed to read less if I am to write, although I know in my soul this cannot be true. But I was almost worried to stop reading the book incase I miss the message it is sending me, (although in not understanding it, I may well miss it anyway.)

I wondered if it was making me appreciate simpler novels. I enjoyed Jacqueline Wilson’s Think Again recently for its simplicity. I liked that I could relax when I was reading it - not tense up and feel a failure for not understanding what was going on. I have two kids after all, immersing myself into Victorian dialogue is too much. Reading my own writing back I appreciate how much more readable it is, at least to me. But despite this, I think the reading and not understanding of a book has knocked my confidence. Do I really know what I am doing at all?

I hate not finishing books, but I had to let that one go - message or no message and so I am left without any answers, or so I thought.

On reflection, I think this whole incident has made me interrogate the reason why I do things. I read to enjoy the story - to escape and enter a state of thinking that is not in this world. This is the same reason I write - I want to enter that state of flow where I am not sat at my desk anymore, but in my mind. Content, challenged and unaware of the passing of time.

Rick Rubin agrees with me because he too notes:

“The act of creation is an attempt to enter a mysterious realm. A longing to transcend. What we create allows us to share glimpses of our inner landscape, one that is beyond our understanding. Art is our portal to the unseen world.”

My reason for writing at all is the process. It’s completely self indulgent but it’s a way into another world to escape from this one. It’s not really about the writing itself, or sharing the story even, although that is a little part of it. It is about the doing. So I need to get on and you know - do it.

I thought To The Lighthouse would give me some sort of inspiration or a solution that I am lacking, but it hasn’t - it has just been a distraction but maybe it is a distraction that has led me back on the right path with the reminder of why: Why did I start this in the first place? That is the reason I should keep going. Because lighthouses don’t always signal danger, they can be the very signal that reminds you of the direction you should be taking, whether that is this one or not, I’ll let you know.

What do you think? Is the lighthouse my big solution or a distraction?
Why do you write?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

Not to hark on about the weather again, but it’s been so nice this week. We’re just outside of London, bordering Kent and we’ve had day after day of bright sunshine and it’s not been too hot. The flowers are blooming, leaves are sprouting - even my Camelias, which I presumed dead after a bout of frost, have started to bloom again. Joy. Joy. Joy.

It’s that time of year I have started to beat myself up about not getting the kids outside enough. I want them to play on the green after school but after I end up shouting at them three or four times to remind them basic instructions they have ignored, we end up heading home. I keep telling myself they will get it one day. I mean, just because the bench looks like a goal - it is not to be used as a goal - especially when someone is sitting on it!

And then there are bikes. Like swimming, cycling is something we need to put the time in to get right, and we just don’t. Having two kids and no garden means carrying the damn things back from wherever the kids have gotten fed up with riding them, and I, for one, anyway do not have the strength. I want them to learn but I can’t be bothered to teach them, basically. But that’s normal right? Tell me I am not alone in this, please. I’d rather be sat at home reading a book…

Anyway, here are the recommendations of all things Telly, Books and of course Substack.

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. Decaf, Please - a ridiculous request in mid-life.

2. Should Have Brought a Book - a new level of parenting: unlocked.

On Substack

1. Dismantling the Myth of Grandmotherhood with

2. Why Writing on your Phone isn’t a Compromise - it’s survival by

3. God, she’s away a lot ent she? by

4. is on substack!

5. What your kid’s nursery worker is really thinking

6. Will I always want 1 more?

7. Grandma is afraid to fly

8. How to feed your kids like a 90’s Mum

TV

1. Derry Girls (2020) Netflix

   An absolute cracker. I loved this so much. I think I fell in love with the characters early on and Lisa McGee’s sharp wit is second to none. I know I am late to the party here, but it’s a good one.

2. I swear (2025) Netflix
   Late to this party too, as I am sure I had been recommended it enough times before I watched it, but what a fantastic story and I hope the film goes further to share the knowledge of Tourette’s and the effects it has on people’s lives.

3. The Other Bennet Sister (2025) BBC iPlayer
   As said in her podcast The Honeymoon Period Podcast - this is a warm hug of a show. For fans of the 90s BBC TV series adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, this is very much the spin off we didn’t know we needed following Mary, the other (supposedly less desirable) Bennet Sister and based on the book by Janice Hadlow.

Books

1. So Late in the Day, Claire Keegan (2022)
   The master of the novella, this is a really gripping short story, which I don’t want to give away the plot to, but as ever Keegan really immerses you into the world, and leaves you thinking of the characters long after the last page.

2. Think Again, Jacqueline Wilson (2024)
   I really enjoyed this follow on from the Girls series that us Millennial girls grew up with. I found it a nice story to read while the kids were playing as it wasn’t complicated (for context, I have been trying to read Virginia Woolf and am giving up!). It was a fun world to be in and I kept finding myself wanting to go back in for more.

Podcast

1. Poorna Bell on Happy Place on the decision to remain child-free and women wanting more.

2. Bryony Gordon on Happy Place talking about body image, perimenopause and running out of f*cks.

3. Also really enjoyed Emma Doran on Parenting Hell, talking about her experience as a teenage mother in Ireland.

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Come meet me in the comments and share what has been distracting you this month,

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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Not meaning to brag but life is good at the moment; we have entered a new level of parenting.

It hasn’t been easy so far. My children are 6 and 4. They are fairly self-sufficient but they are both boys and they fight constantly. Both my partner and I, whether alone or together, regularly stand poised whilst they play ready to break them up. (Ready to prevent a trip to A & E, frankly.) Looking after them has always been stressful but these days it is getting easier. The duration of time between fighting is lengthening. Long enough, sometimes, dare I say, for us to relax and I have found myself thinking recently, why didn’t I bring a book or something with me?

Of course, there will always be the moment when we take our eyes off them and one of our children will suffer a scratch at the hands of the other over a minor disagreement, but mostly it takes just a quick word with one and a cuddle with the other and we are back to calm.

This truly is new territory but we have been embracing it this Easter holiday.

We have partaken in all sorts of activities while we have relished in this new found freedom. Drawing and writing for me ( hey look, another substack post drafted) and reading - lots of reading for us both. (I am trying to use the time well and stay off the social media doom scroll, although this does happen every so often.) Then there is the writing that isn’t writing; the thinking, the planning. What a joy it is to be able to think.

It is a joy when it happens. (Although it isn’t always a given, as any parents I am sure will agree). It is all I have wanted for so long and it always felt so far away and unreachable.

I want to tell the Kylie that started this newsletter, with a 6 month old and a two and a half year old who had just stopped napping and reduced his days at preschool, I want to tell her that this life will exist for her. I want to tell her she will get there. One day she will be the lady in the corner reading while her children play like angels, one day she will type on her phone without worrying that one of the children has escaped through the exit. One day this life will be hers… (I’m sat writing this now at a train-themed stay and play and I just got up to check my son is still in the room – he is.)

It seems to have happened quickly, this development. It wasn’t so long ago I was berated by the pelvic floor specialist for not finding time three times a day to do my pelvic floor exercises. They are a few minutes where I have to concentrate and squeeze muscles that need squeezing. It is imperative I do them for my long-term health. I can just about manage some while I am supervising the children or on the bus or in the car (I’m always the passenger) - but she had wanted me to use a device and there was no way I could make that happen. The device meant I had to strip off my trousers and do the exercises laying down on the bed with the device inside of me. The specialist didn’t understand why I couldn’t find 3 x 5 minutes to myself each day to do this. (She even commented that my children were old enough now not to be used as an excuse!)

Anyway, I do manage to do some pelvic floor exercises (without taking my trousers off) and even finding these moments of calm throughout the day has become slightly easier than it once was. But actually finding time to read a book? With the two kids around? That’s new.

I’m ecstatic about this new development, but I wonder how long it will last. I’m always worrying the kids will spot me doing something I enjoy and spoil it. They have a knack for knowing that I have checked out from the room mentally and start whining until I am back in. (I am reading through this piece now with my son at home and he is begging me to play with him!)

There is a bit of a disclaimer coming. I have written this piece over a day and experiences all seasons of neediness from my youngest son in particular. The day ended with me trying the sketch a picture of one of them whilst they both watched television, but as soon as they figured out what I was doing (i.e enjoying myself) one of them got a pen out to literally sabotage it! I honestly started the day in such a good mood - 1 hour of pure peace and quiet at a stay and play - this was a shock and I wonder if I am actually in this new level of parenting at all and perhaps it was just wishful thinking…

There is always a price to pay, I find. This morning I had quiet time, but having the afternoon as well is too much. My youngest son is clearly starved of attention and demands it more strongly now. Then there is the fact that whilst I may be absorbed in something like writing or reading or whatever – where I lose track of time or don’t really pay much attention to where they are or what they are doing – I shouldn’t be surprised then to find my room in a state, pillows and duvet on the floor or their toys strewn over the room because of some game they are playing.

The other thing I have noticed is that because we, as parents, do never really switch off and somehow my peripheral vision sees danger before I am even conscious I am looking for it, I still find myself coming to the rescue of other people’s children. There is a ride on train here, for example, at the stay and play, right by where I have chosen to sit and every now and then it comes off the track and I will get to the train before it tips and the child falls on the floor.

I’m happy to help. I am sure people helped me back when I had toddlers. (Some did anyway, I have plenty of stories when people did not help.) Even so, I always hoped people would, believed they could and they should, maybe. We always say it’s a community that raises children, and what has happened to me as my children have got older and more independent is that my role within the community has shifted slightly. I can be more helpful to others now I am stressing less about my own kids.

There is progress being made and it was my partner’s revelation that confirmed it:

He is finding opportunities to read his book. At swimming.

Regular readers might remember when we started taking swimming lessons last Summer, I would stand at the pool side, my son sat in between my legs as we begged him to try to get in the water so the teacher could teach him alongside the other five children. When he was in, I stayed nearby to help prevent him trying to climb out again or I would offer support while the teacher coaxed him to try to move his legs. My partner no longer has to do any of these things. He can sit at the far end of the pool or in the cubicles at the side and leave the teacher to do her thing. If that’s not a sign of progress, then I don’t know what is.

How is parenting going for you?

Do you remember the hard days/are they still hard?

Do you get moments to think/do/draw/read? How do you spend these moments?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

Do you have decaf tea? I always wince when I ask. But these days I have to. My body is changing.

Sometimes I get a laugh in response. Why would you come into a coffee shop and ask for decaf? As if the cultural societal norm of sitting inside for a hot drink is exclusive to those who can tolerate caffeine.

Sometimes I get “of course” and told the tea bag in the pot is decaffeinated when it is not. Sometimes I can’t tell in the moment. It’s not often the taste that gives it away, although I may have my suspicions.

See, I will know the tea you gave me wasn’t decaffeinated some time later.

Maybe it will be in the evening, when my usual bedtime rolls around without me even noticing, when I am hunched over my laptop in the dark wrapped in some last minute task I was inspired to do or when I am babbling to my partner in bed late into the night, him begging for me to please, please shut up and go to sleep.

Perhaps, instead it will become apparent when I wake spontaneously at 3:47am the next morning, and find it impossible to get back to sleep. My thoughts bouncing around in my head like a ping pong ball with my eyes more effort to keep closed than to leave open staring into the darkness.

I could also find out days later when I get the caffeine withdrawal headache, or my new favourite acid reflux — a consequence of plummeting estrogen paired with caffeine loosening the sphincter that closes my stomach. Pain as a price I pay for a sin against my body that I didn’t knowingly commit.

I know it doesn’t make sense. There isn’t even that much caffeine in tea. Half as much as in an average cup of coffee and many people can enjoy multiple coffees a day, well into the afternoon. But not me, I’m afraid. Perimenopause is here and my body is turning on me in tiny ways, throwing up a variety of symptoms throughout and across my menstrual cycles. A sign that at 37 I am most certainly ageing. Clearly, in mid-life my body can’t handle things that it used to not only tolerate but thrive upon.

Once upon a time, caffeine was productivity; it was focus. But now for me it is anxiety, sleeplessness and quite certainly, has the opposite and less desirable effects than in the past. There is no going back.

So, please, I haven’t asked for a decaf tea to be difficult. I don’t mean to throw you off to find the button on the till that you have long forgotten about or trouble you to dig out the dusty old tea caddy that barely gets opened. I ask for it because I need it. So please, a tea. But decaf, yes please.

Do you live the decaf life?

Has Perimenopause ruined anything you love?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to all my posts. (My posts usually go behind the pay-wall after 1 year.) An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea! - decaf of course) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

Hello Spring!

Well, this was the case when I started drafting this newsletter and since the winds from Narnia have blown in and it’s bloody freezing again.

How has everyone’s month been?

For us it feels like we have only just gone back to school and we and now preparing for end of term. We have end of term events and lots of information coming through for the activities planned after the Easter break. We have school trips and dressing up days coming. There is also the Easter show, which I have seen one of two possible performances of and I can say I am one very proud Mum.

Speaking to some parents after, it is clear how proud we all are of the class as a whole - they are all growing up so fast and growing in confidence. Their enthusiasm for this particular play was the most I have seen. What struck me watching the play, though, is how many children had lost their front teeth. My son has his first wobbly tooth and he is thrilled and beyond excited to share this truth with the Dentist next week. Of course we have to see the Dentist in the holidays - what is an Easter break without a few pieces of life-admin in the mix? Does it ever end?

This month I have been working less and writing and reading more, which as much as I love my work, is my preferred mode, (but don’t tell my clients!) I have also been trying to stay off my phone which hasn’t been easy, but look how many books I have read! (They are mostly short books, still, I am proud of my efforts this month.)

The books I have read have been so incredibly inspiring, too. I think of special note was Caleb Azumah Nelson’s Small Worlds, which is not just a novel but a work of art. Honestly, if I could write something half as beautiful as that I would be pleased.

Has anything really inspired you this month? A book, a podcast? a substack article? Let me know in the comments I would love to hear your thoughts.

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. I didn’t come here to feel bad - a trip to an awful hairdresser I won’t forget anytime soon.

2. Am I a Trad-wife? - an uncomfortable confrontation of sorts.

3. My Brain is Shrinking - on my demise in the face of AI and social media.

On Substack

1. How I knew I didn’t want kids

2. I am jealous you have a mother

3. How E.H. Shepard Brought Winnie-The-Pooh to Life

4. Emily Dickinson Wouldn’t Have Survived Social Media

5. My mother-in-law treats my uterus like family property

6. The Irish Question

7. The truth about having a baby at 40

8. My World (but not all of it)

9. When Is It Time for Your Kid to Stop Seeing You Naked?

10. Just Step Outside - Spring is Waiting for You

TV

1. How to get to Heaven from Belfast, Netflix (2026)

   Written by Lisa McGee this comedic thriller set in Ireland and Northern Ireland is an absolute scream. It was so much fun with characters you root for and despise in equal measure. Less of a whodunnit and more a whatthehellisgoingon the story throws back to an event in 2003 which the four main girls are involved in, one dies in the present and at the wake the remaining three friends resolve to find out why - but there is much more going on than it seems.

2. Everyone Else Burns, Netflix (2024)
   Sitcom starring Inbetweeners Simon Bird as the Dad, we follow teenager Rachel as she navigates life in Manchester with her family as part of a hyper-religious order. I really enjoyed the silliness of this one and the mother character, Fiona, had me questioning my own life choices.

Books

1. Cursed Bread, Sophie Mackintosh (2023)

   I really enjoyed this novel. Like much of Mackintosh’s writing it is very emotive and sensual. Having forgotten what the book was called whilst reading it, (it was very immersive) the ending came as a surprise, and I was grateful for that. I was hooked until the end.
   

2. Small Worlds, Caleb Azumah Nelson (2023)
   This book is almost like a song. I have never read any author like Caleb Azumah Nelson. Spanning topics of father and son relationships, love and community, this novel follows Stephen through life and the small worlds he occupies. From Peckham, to Uni, Ghana and back again with music at its core, his descriptions are lyrical and his structure follows that of a melody with repeated phrases like chroruses dotted throughout a song. Wonderful, and like in the novel - like something I won’t ever forget.

3. Heartburn, Nora Ephron (1983)

   Ephron has crafted the perfect laugh-out-loud divorce novel. Somehow it’s even better knowing it was inspired by her own experiences. Very enjoyable read.

4. Foster, Claire Keegan (2010)

   I love Claire Keegan for her immersive stories but also for challenging what a novel can be. Like Small Things Like These, Foster is incredibly powerful and moving for its size. I read this in an afternoon and the characters stayed with me long after.

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Come meet me in the comments and share what has been distracting you this month,

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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My Brain is shrinking and it’s not just my age.

Yes, age has something to do with it. One of the more famous symptoms of Menopause and its lead up, Perimenopause, is Brain Fog - where hormonal changes trigger episodes of forgetfulness and a lack of clarity. The Menopause Society explains that brain fog is a symptom of structural changes in the brain caused by hormonal changes in menopause.

“Menopause is associated with distinct structural changes in the brain. Multiple studies have documented reductions in gray matter volume in both the frontal and temporal cortices and the hippocampus–regions critical for memory and executive function. These volumetric losses have been linked to declines in cognitive performance, particularly in verbal and visuospatial memory.”

Menopause Society (Oct 8 2025)

This could be happening to me now that I am in my mid-late thirties, and I worry that coupled with the fact that my brain has only recently been permanently changed from having my children, it is not something I can ignore.

In a landmark study published in Nature Neuroscience in 2017, researchers led by Elseline Hoekzema, a neuroscientist from the Netherlands, and Erika Barba-Müller, a neuroscientist working in Spain, provided evidence for the first time that pregnancy renders pronounced, consistent changes in brain structure.

This synaptic reorganisation and fine-tuning, it is thought, make the brain more efficient and streamlined in what it needs to do to care for a baby. Or as the neuroscientist Jodi Pawluski puts it, “to make sure we, and our child, survive parenthood”.”

Lucy Jones, The Guardian, The new science of motherhood…(30 July 2023)

Social media is to blame too. I can literally feel grey matter disappearing as I find myself watching another video of a stranger’s hands decorating a three tier cake - the cake spinning around as the icing appears from the nozzle of the piping bag. It is something I find fascinating and mildly hypnotic and the algorithm knows it. I hate that I am becoming part of it too, distilling my business offering down to 5 second videos to get attention online. Any publicity is good publicity, I tell myself.

My phone is a constant distraction. I try to read on there, my Substack app proudly sits on the first home screen of my phone, but I will often find myself doing other things. Scrolling on Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn - one after the other with no real intention of looking for anything or doing anything. I catch myself and put my phone away only to pick it up again moments later and scroll through the same content. When my children look over my shoulder and ask me what a video is about, I feel shame. I don’t have a reason for watching it. I don’t know who it is. I am barely even conscious I am watching it. Their presence breaks the spell social media has over me immediately.

When I do read I’m a lazy reader, especially online. I often read the headline - whether it’s on Substack or Instagram, and summarise a full article in my head with a fully-formed opinion. I’ll find myself talking about it to my partner or a friend, only to then say - well I didn’t read the whole thing - or any of it, actually.

In real-life conversations I avoid anything too complicated and stick to what I know. Politics, for example, is always a no-go for me. I never have the details - I never truly understand what is going on because I haven’t read the articles or watched the news. I tell myself there is no time to educate myself, yet I will spend chunks of time doom-scrolling and come up for air having learned nothing at all. Dangerous when social media, which I and many people use as a distraction from the horrors of life, is a pool of misinformation about the horrors of life.

They say time passes faster when you don’t learn or do anything new. For example when you travel somewhere different or via a different route, the journey will seem longer on the way there than on the way back - your brain is documenting so much more - like a dog sniffing every lamp post on the street on a new walk. And part of the reason I know my brain is shrinking, or at the very least not being maintained - counter-acting the effects of ageing - is because time is passing at break-neck speed.

Time is passing quickly because life is boring. Repetition and routine are very much a part of our lives now that we have school-aged children and the weeks pass by in a flash - every day much the same. Walk to school, walk back, work, walk to school, walk back, dinner, bed, bath. Much of the routine is unavoidable, but I don’t want my life to pass by this quickly and I certainly don’t want my brain to shrink - so I have been trying to change the tide.

I’ve been reading more.

Books have always been my saviour and a good book can distract you from anything, even your phone. I have read some lovely books and each one valuable and interesting. Either I have learned about cultures, or aspects of life I am less familiar with, or I have been in awe of a writing style, or someone else’s imagination. I hope their genius will rub off on me or at the very least I have already felt very inspired - to write.

I have been writing more (or trying to)

I do it when I can and it isn’t often but whether it’s a quick article or some journalling - getting my thoughts out of my brain is key to my wellbeing and also to me having the motivation to fill my mind with other stuff.

I am avoiding AI

AI is allowing us to shortcut without thinking and actually thinking is what I enjoy. I like to analyse, imagine and create. I am not keen to give up all the jobs I enjoy to a robot (it is already after my design job!). I am also conscious that when it comes to thinking and learning - it is very much a use it or lose it principle. I must use my brain in order to maintain a level of thought processing - which means avoiding all the popular uses of AI in which you get it to think and decide for you.

I’ve been watching new TV shows

At home, we are real creatures of habit and watch similar shows throughout the year, which only contributes to the sense of every day/week being the same. I love watching Kirstie and Phil take house hunters on a tour of the country, for example, but I feel like each time I see one, I have seen it before. I love shows like that for the people watching, but the formulaeic nature of many series means there are only so many eventualities. New TV, new writing, new art-direction - like reading new books, gets us out of routine and throws us into another story and another life experience.

But I know I could do more, so I need your help.

What else can I do?

Have you found any particular hobbies good for keeping your focus - or avoiding your phone?

Is feeling your brain shrink something you can relate to?

I’d love to hear your ideas in the comments.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to my writing. An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

After my second child was born, I was unable to go back to work full-time as the child care costs for two children under 3 at the time was outside of our household budget and it would have effectively cost us money for me to work.

I did what any reasonable person would do and told my employer I would not be returning unless it was on a part-time basis, which was an idea that they did not even take the time to entertain.

I chose my words carefully there, as I used to say "the childcare costs were more than my salary” and people, usually women, would say: “well it’s not just you that pays for it.” And whilst this is true, I mean it in the sense that effectively if he covers the bills and the mortgage already (we were just about surviving while I could only contribute my meagre Statutory Maternity Pay) then to work I would have to be able to cover the cost of childcare and I couldn’t.

Many women find themselves in this situation and I was aware of it ahead of time. It was not a surprise that I woke up pregnant nor was it news to us that the childcare costs were extortionate, but what was news was that I was to be a trad-wife.

We all know what the trad-wife looks like. The well-presented mother on Instagram looking after her children with endless patience and love. The light greys and pastels of the interiors of her home in tune with her soft and calm exterior. The children sit playing nicely, kind hands busy with crafted wooden toys. The scenes are sanitary and completely foreign to me. To me, motherhood is rage, fury and frustration mixed in with an intense possessive love. Motherhood is messy and chaotic and hard. It’s tears, snotty noses and lego bricks over every inch of the floor.

I know who the trad-wife is but I don’t recognise myself in her. I don’t recognise my experience of motherhood in her curated social media feed. But if we look at the definition of a trad-wife, my world isn’t all that different.

“tradwife” (a portmanteau of “traditional” and “wife”) is a married woman who chooses to embrace traditional, often mid-20th-century-style, gender roles within her marriage, where she focuses exclusively on homemaking, raising children, and supporting her husband as the primary breadwinner.

Now as many of you know, thanks to this previous article, I am not actually married. The feminist in me will not allow myself to belong to any man, even one I love and have children with. Yet, I think back to my time as a stay-at-home-mum, despite being unmarried I think, hang on - was I a trad-wife? Am I a trad-wife?

Now a trad-wife, apart from being actually married, which as I have mentioned, I am not, is a woman who chooses to embrace mid-century gender roles - focusing on exclusively1 homemaking, raising children and supporting her husband as the primary breadwinner.

Even now that I am “back to work” in a part-time capacity, I would say I do all of those things. The only thing I don’t have is the diamond ring and the wedding debt. I work part-time and remotely, in order to prioritise my children - prioritising the running of the house is very much part of this as children need the house to be clean, they need their clothes cleaned, their bowls cleaned and their meals served. In prioritising my children, I seem to have slipped into a traditional gender role. Whoops.

Similarly, my partner in having to step up during my time away from work managed to get promoted to a level that firmly stakes him as the primary breadwinner. Out of necessity, he has again slipped into that traditional gender role. Whoops, again.

What you might be thinking is, why is this a big deal?

A big deal that I am a trad-wife, allegedly, while not actually agreeing to be a wife in the first place, sure. I am a trad-wife, when my life doesn’t look like that of a trad-wife’s. My experience of motherhood is not hers. It’s like it has happened to me and I haven’t gone into the situation with full knowledge of what has happened. It is circumstantial - a symptom of a broken system. It is beyond our control.

I did know I wouldn’t be able to go back to work, properly anyway until my youngest started school, but I have managed to earn a decent amount as a part-time freelance graphic designer in the meantime. Now my children are in childcare and school and that I am earning more money than when I was a stay-at-home-mum, does that mean I am not a trad-wife any more?

But being part-time, I still fall into the role of supporting my partner as the breadwinner. It is me as at the flexible working from home parent that will pick up nursery’s phone calls and then collect the sick child. It is me who picks the kids up from school and pre-school and does the dinner, and puts them to bed at night if my partner is late home.

Some days, I feel like nothing has changed at all that we are living in the 1950s. But then again, some days are different.

When my partner works from home he isn’t usually late working (the train delays don’t affect us then) so bed and bath time is his domain. If I work during the weekend, which I do sometimes if I have a lot of work in, it is my partner who will do the big Sunday Dinner and prep a few meals for the week at the same time. Much of my trad-wife-ness is circumstantial and dependent on the rhythms of his workload and the busyness of the company for which he works. The very situation itself was born out of a broken childcare system - extortionate child care costs and the fact that men don’t get much in the way of parental leave. It was no accident that I became the primary caregiver and the default parent, but I certainly did not sign up for a trad-wife life.

And this I think is the crucial thing.

While I may appear to be a trad-wife who has taken on the traditional gender role of being a home-maker and a mother - I am not embracing it. Far from it. I am trying to cast it aside where I can.

I will support my partner in his role as the primary breadwinner, I will prioritise the children and their needs, I will clean and look after our home, but I will not do it exclusively. I will work as well. I will build my business and develop myself alongside my role as mother. I will practice self care - I will take time to read and I will take time to write. This is the reality for most parents. This messy chaos of work and home and kids and self. And whilst I prioritise my children and support my partner, the ebbs and flows of life allow for fluidity in our parenting roles.

It is for this reason that flexible working is so important.

For every parent kept at work late who has a family at home, another parent is punished. When those roles are that the man is the breadwinner and the woman is at home, then mid-century rules reign.

Whenever I apply for a freelance job but don’t get accepted or even considered due to my need to work remotely and/or part-time, those mid-century rules reign again.

If we want to move forward and cast aside tradition, flexibility is key. Whenever my partner has flexibility in his work, I don’t feel like a trad-wife and that is the lifestyle I want to embrace. I want to embrace the chaos of trying to live a different way. Of daring to work outside the usual time frames, and the usual days. Flexibility will save us from heading back into the 1950s and the very fact I don’t want to go back to that time is proof I am not a trad-wife and I will never be one. It may look like I perform traditional gender roles everyday but the fact is I don’t want that to be the only way; and it doesn’t have to be.

What do you think of the trad-wife discourse?

Do you consider yourself to be a trad-wife?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to my writing. An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

My lovely hairdresser is on maternity leave and as such I was in search of someone new to cut my hair one week in January, and as any lazy millennial, I went to the first place I recognised when I put “hairdressers near me” into Google.

This is a hairdressers I walk past any time I am in our local high street, so this recognition was based on that alone. I don’t know any one who goes there. But as usual, convenience won for me as it was a place near the bus stop, on the high street who had availability on the one day I was available to get my hair cut.

Until I sat down and opened my mouth, it was ideal.

Now, I have been with my hairdresser a long time. She was at a salon near by that I went to and I always picked her from the list of stylists because she did my hair the best.

My hair is a nightmare. It is curly, but not. It doesn’t do what any one expects it to, but my hairdresser, who has curly hair too, got it right every time and I knew from the first few cuts that she was gold.

She disappeared from that hairdressers I think around the time I had my second baby and I had to put up with terrible hair cuts for a year, or so, until I bumped into her on our local estate. She was driving around in her little Fiat 500, she told me she was freelance now and I asked for her business card from the pavement. I have been going back to her ever since.

So as I say, I was at the new hairdressers. I sat down and immediately said the things that my lovely hairdresser says to me when I ask for an inch or two off. She explains that the layers can’t be too short, as they will bounce up too high, and uses phrases like shape around the face. I don’t know I just repeated what she says without really understanding it. I’m not a hairdresser, as you know.

The stylist, who had greeted me with warmth and smiles when I walked in, reacted to these words with disgust. She then proceeded to tell me that my hair cut was terrible, uneven, it didn’t have long layers but the shortest layers possible. It was all layers, I should grow them out and start again. What a terrible job the previous hairdresser had done.

Now, I don’t know what the plan was here, if this was some effort to get new business, but this stylist made me feel awful. I don’t think I have a terrible hair cut, obviously it needed cutting at this point and I have terrible hair that is different, but what my hairdresser usually does to my hair I like. I wanted to walk out but I sat there instead my hair all frizzed out nodding in agreement as she hurled abuse at both my haircut and my hairdresser.

I had gone to the hairdressers to feel good about myself and instead I sat there seething.

What this stylist didn’t get perhaps was that my hairdresser, who I have known for years and go back to every 6-8 weeks without fail, is my friend too. I was not happy listening to this abusive vomit coming from her mouth. Her throwing insults at my hair cut was causing me offence in multiple ways.

I sat while she cut my hair staring at my reflection careful not to change my face from anything other than neutral should I accidentally share how I actually felt.

I don’t want to get all Linked-In about it, but it made me think about my own clients.

I could and have had clients who want things to look a certain way despite my advice and do you know what I do? I let them have what they want - within reason. If you argue your point and they still insist, then let them have it. Brands especially come with history and sometimes the history has to come along on the ride - you know so consumers still recognise and love their brand. Sometimes you have to do the things they need because that is what people will expect. And anyway they are the experts in their business field at the end of the day. I can only advise on what I know.

My knowledge has limits and so did this new stylist. She clearly didn’t understand my hair type even though she used phrases like, “not right for your hair type”, etc. I knew this because of two things she did. Firstly, she cut my hair on a central parting, which is silly because it doesn’t sit on a central parting. Ever. Once she had done the initial cut to even things out, which by the way is not what I wanted, she put my hair into my actual parting and told me, “well it’s wonky because of the parting.” I had to really resist rolling my eyes. Then when she asked if I would like it straightened or blow dried straight I said, “neither”. My hair does not like heat - it puffs out like a lion’s mane - the best thing for it is to air dry. “Well we don’t do that here because I need to check the cut.”

Checking the cut to her was to check it was even when it was straight.

But guess what, lady, my hair isn’t straight so what’s the point of that?

If you want to check it, I suggested, then diffuse it into curls and check how it sits. She refused to do this.

I sat and watched her blow dry it into a style that I barely recognised myself in.

When the lady eventually finished and then charged me my deposit again (which is actually double what I would usually pay!) I told myself that it was probably going to be fine, that once I washed my hair I would have my curls back. But I knew in my heart it wasn’t true. It doesn’t curl like it is meant to. I need those choppy layers the new stylist so hated.

I felt so small in that hairdressers. I wondered why I felt like I couldn’t speak up or push my demands further than I tried. I gave up quite quickly. I betrayed my own lovely hair dresser by letting this other stylist redefine my hair. As if I somehow accepted she was right, when my lack of curls says otherwise.

I told my partner about it after and he asked me how old the new stylist was.

I would guess somewhere in her early twenties, I hadn’t really thought about it at the time.

He nodded his head and said, “She knows everything.”

And that is what it is. It’s that fresh out of college - do everything the “right way” but actually isn’t want your clients want or suits people in the real world. I think I will have to do a little better research next time I go for a hair cut and also when did I get so old? I truly recognised that statement of youth as naivety - of not having that experience, or the knowledge even that there is more to my hair cut than just the hair cut. Who thinks hurling abuse at a customer is a good thing? I went there to feel good about myself and I left insulted as she was rude about my identity, my choice of hair dresser and she insulted my friend!

Any way needless to say I won’t be going back. I don’t want to feel that way again.

So tell me, have you had any nightmare hairdressing experiences?

Have you had a client that, like me, knew what she wanted, but you winced at the thought?

Come join me in the comments I would love to hear your stories.

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to my writing. An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

Morning!

What utter bliss full-time childcare is?

Why didn’t any of you say?
I think this is the secret, you know. I think with full-time childcare I might just survive until September, when, you know we get full-time childcare (school). Unfortunately, for me it is only temporary.

I double-booked myself in January and into February, which is fantastic news as a freelancer. Of course the two jobs I agreed to do before Christmas would start in the same month, why didn’t I imagine that would happen? Either way, with extra childcare (Thank you, nursery) and the odd weekend and Christmas holiday day (Thank you, Stephen and his family) we survived.

The funny thing about booking ad-hoc childcare is that you never really know if you will need it or not, so inevitably when I panic-booked the entirety of February (less the half term days) I was not needed as much as I foresaw, but then I had the gift of flexibility!

Flexibility is what I hark on to employers/agencies about all the time - I need them to be flexible, and this month I was able to be flexible back. You want me to work Friday instead? No worries. The only down side is my son’s swimming teacher has forgotten what we both look like and I am bracing myself for a telling off when we finally return next week!

With all that flexibility and a little bit of a free time - I read more, I watched more, I listened more yay. Hey, I even went to the Cinema!?

So here we are without further ado. This is Distracted By February.

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. A Bit of Luck - a new piece of fiction this month - another short story inspired by childhood. I also opened up the previous Distracted Fiction pieces to all readers so if you fancy a little dip in, now is the time.

On Substack

1. There’s a Cost to Supporting Someone Else’s Career

2. Reclaim your Mornings and Evenings - with

3. We Were Told We Could Have it All

4. Shares a candid infertility update on

5. on Formula Feeding as the Secret to Marriage Equality

TV

1. We binged all 4 seasons of The Bear on Disney + this month.
   I loved it. It was all over the place - I loved the variety. If you haven’t watched it, it follows Carmen, a top chef, who comes back home to Chicago to run the family beef sandwich shop after his brother takes his own life. Some episodes felt different stylistically and in content, which really gave it an interesting pace overall. Ultimately, though, I fell in love with these characters. Haven’t watched something that good for a while.

Podcasts

1. Martin Freeman on Elizabeth Day’s How to Fail was great. I had seen him just before listening on Graham Norton and I think he is an under-hyped actor, and he’s bloody good. I loved what he had to say on parenting and how chaotic and hard it is. I really enjoyed the series he co-wrote Breeders (which seems to have disappeared from Netflix!) It was hilariously funny and hugely relatable. He also talked about AI and how we just do not want it - we want to think - we want to do the thing. I’m surprised more people aren’t saying this. Worrying, perhaps.

Cinema

1. I think this must be the first time I have had a cinema category. Well it is Oscar season. I loved Hamnet the film as much as I loved the book - I won’t be the first to say it but I thought Jessie Buckley’s performance was incredible. I was in tears for most of the later scenes. Despite it being a story centred on grief it felt very hopeful and uplifting and I practically skipped to nursery pick up with my wet eyes and puffy face.

Books

1. The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell

   I was inspired after watching Hamnet that I should finish this book that had been long forgotten on my bedside table. The first time I read it I never got into it, so I started it again and I am so glad I did. I don’t know if it was a different headspace, more time - but wow. I loved it. She truly has a way with words that is transporting, which for a historical novel is the dream. I urge you to read it if you haven’t already.

2. Frankie by Graham Norton

   I found this in a charity shop, and much like other Graham Norton novels, I was inspired by the back cover to read it straight-away. Lovely little story, easy read - great characters and again really transported you back in time. Perhaps that’s my theme for the month!

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Come meet me in the comments and share what has been distracting you this month,

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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Hope you enjoy.

We have come to a stop at the side of the road. I notice the car engine is silent; the driver, absent. It’s raining so hard I can’t glance out of the window to check where he is. All I can see is that wherever we are, it isn’t home. I shuffle on my booster seat. Looking around to my right I see my little brothers and sister asleep. How they fall asleep on such a short journey I will never understand. Perhaps I did when I was that young, but not anymore.

The rain lashes against the car windows. I watch the droplets as they race each other down the glass. Tracing them with my finger, I try to guess which one will get to the bottom first. When Dad finally opens the driver’s door, I jump in my seat. My immediate reaction is to close my eyes tight and pretend to be asleep too.

“Here, take these.” There is a rustle of a carrier bag as Dad passes something to Mum, but I resist opening my eyes to find out what it is.

“Bill, what are you playing at?”

“Just take them,” his voice firm. He slams the door shut against the rain.

“They are dripping everywhere, Bill. What do we want someone’s dirty old boots for?”

“You’ll see,” he says in a familiar tone. One that says I know more than you.

He goes to start the car and it takes a few attempts. He says she isn’t very good in the rain. We don’t usually travel in his car with Mum, she hates it. Hers is in the garage though, so she doesn’t have much choice. She calls it an upturned skip, but it is his pride and joy. A 1993 golden Lada Samara, there aren’t many on the road like it. Or so Dad says.

“If we were in my car then you wouldn’t be bringing these dirty boots home. That’s for sure.”

He laughs, “Trust me, you’ll want these boots.”

“Bloody hell, can you not go down the road for five minutes without picking up some old tat. We have enough as it is. We aren’t that ‘ard up that you need to wear someone’s sodden old left-overs from the side of the road.”

“Ha!” I know that sound. I could almost hear him shaking his head if it weren’t for the tenacious squeaking of the ancient windscreen wipers. “Did you not listen to that mechanic? Did you not hear what he said?”

“We can sort that, love, we have insurance for the car. We ain’t beggars.”

“And then there’s these uniforms. Four this year!” I imagine him gesturing to the back seat. “Where will we get the money for them?”

“We’ll manage. It is tight every year but we manage. That’s what we do.”

End of the school holidays is always a bit gloomy. Not just because it gets wetter, as if we have had all the sun we are allowed in the first five weeks, but because we have to go shopping for new uniforms. Every year it is the same. At least one of us has had a growth spurt and shot up a couple of sizes. Either that or we just can’t wear the threadbare greying clothes any longer without people raising eyebrows. I wince as I imagine the clothes waiting for my youngest brother to wear on his first day of school.

“What size are they?”

“What? – Bleedin’ ‘ell. It isn’t the shoes we want,” he lowers his voice. “It’s what’s inside.”

“Eh?”

“Look inside, you daft cow,” his voice is hushed.

Mum screams like a cat does when you tread on its tail. She catches herself and dulls the sound with her hand. I tighten my eyes shut so that I appear very asleep, afraid she will look around.

“Whose is it?”

“Ours now.” I can hear his smile.

“Why would someone leave it in a shoe in the middle of the roundabout?” She pauses, digesting all the information. “I have never seen this much before. There’s hundreds here.”

They drive along in silence for a few moments.

“What if it is for drugs?”

“Drugs?”

“Yes, drugs?”

“What do you want me to do, take it back?”

“Oh no, it’s drug money isn’t it? What else could it be? Why would you leave cash in a shoe, in these shoes?” Her voice gets higher as she panics.

“What do you want me to do? I can turn the car around right now.”

“What if they are following us? There’s bound to be some big nasty bloke somewhere missing his money. You only need someone to say they saw a Lada stop after the roundabout and we are in big trouble.”

“No one saw us.”

“I can’t believe we are in this bleeding skip, they’ll know it’s us for sure.”

“Shut it,” he bellows. “You are being paranoid.”

“Bill! Please. The Children.”

“Look this is our money. No one is going to find us and if they do, I don’t know anything about any shoes, do you?”

Silence.

“Good, now shut up or you’ll scare the kids.”

I keep my eyes clamped shut until we get home, I could get into trouble if I open them now. I hope the others have the same sense if they are awake.

That night I dream I am walking through a wooded forest in the rain. I look behind me to see a man hobbling with a black cane. It makes a sound as it grips the ground with each step - click clack, click clack. He is short and overweight, hiding his enormous belly under an oversized leather jacket. His thin black hair is combed back disguising his balding egg-shaped head. Sunglasses cover his eyes even though it is dark under the canopy of the trees. He wears cargo trousers with many pockets. As he walks, his pockets jingle. He raises his cane to me as he starts to run towards me. I run and run until I can’t outrun him any more. The cane pulls me from behind. I fall and fall but I cannot feel the ground.

When I go downstairs for breakfast the next morning, the giggling from the kitchen confuses me. Mum asks me what I want for breakfast and I shake my head. After a bad night’s sleep, I have lost my appetite.

“Hey, guess what?” My sister gallops towards me full of excitement.

“We have won the lottlewy!” My brother finishes. He’s the youngest – he probably doesn’t know what the lottery even is.

“The lottery?” I rub my eyes.

“Yes, we had a little win on the lottery.” Dad turns to Mum, “didn’t we darling?”

“When?” I ask confused. “Isn’t the lottery on Saturdays?”

“Yes, darling. Won it on Saturday, didn’t we? Except we only just found out.” He looks me in the eye, his words hang in the air as his stare lasts longer than usual.

I smile, realising it is better to stop asking questions.

Over breakfast we plan the day ahead. We are to go into town, shopping. For an activity that my parents usually dread, Mum seems rather enthused. She writes a list of our new term school essentials. The list seems endless: shoes, socks, shirts, trousers, skirts, plimsolls… I see items below my name and am relieved that this year I may not have to start school with scuffed, worn through shoes and my big toe pressing firmly against the plasticy leather. This year will be different.

I’m putting my trainers on in the hall as my parents are in the kitchen and my brothers and sister chasing each other upstairs. I call up to them, “Come on you lot, we are going!”

“I’m not sure about this,” I hear my mum say as I hover by the door.

“Sure about what? Get rid of the evidence, you said. They can’t take back what is gone.”

“So you do think they’ll come for it?”

“They are not bleedin’ coming for it.”

“They will and they’ll know it’s us because they seen a golden skip driving from the scene of the crime. One that’s parked out on the main road for all to see.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,”

“Ridiculous? You are being ridiculous.”

“Look, do you want these kids to have their school stuff or not?” he hissed.

My mother had nothing to say.

“We aren’t in any danger, love. I promise.” I hear him kiss the top of her head.

We line up by the door, ready to go. Coats on. Shoes on.

“Right,” Dad says walking into the hall, “Are we all here? 1 – 2 – 3 - 4.”

He takes three purple-pink notes out of his wallet and hand us one each.

“Is this from the lottlewy?” my sister asks.

“Yes and I want you to spend it wisely. That’s a lot of money that is.” He taps her on the head. “Now put it in your purse, or your pocket. Do you want me to look after it?”

She shakes her head. We each put our money safely away.

Around the shops I can’t help but feel guilty. This isn’t my money. It doesn’t belong to me; it is stolen. I shuffle along following Mum and Dad as we measure our feet, stand against dresses and prop shirts on our back to see if they will fit. “That’ll do,” Mum says each time placing larger than needed clothes into the basket. “You’ll grow into it.”

The basket is filling with pinafores, pleated skirts and fresh new shirts. Even those pretty socks with the frilly laced tops I have always wanted.

At the checkout, I look around. There is no man with a leather jacket or sunglasses.

“You okay?” Mum asks. “You haven’t spent your money yet?”

I put my hand in my pocket and pass it through my fingers. Dirty money. “I don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you want to, sweety?”

“I don’t want to spend it. It’s not our money.”

“It is, Sweet. All ours. We won the lottery, remember? It’s about time we had a bit of luck.” Apparently, in the last few hours she had been convincing herself so well, that she told this lie flawlessly.

I look at the beautiful socks in the basket. I imagine walking into school with them on my ankles, my new patent leather shoes squeaking with each step. My friends will be jealous. I nod to reassure my mother that I understand. Maybe Mum is right, maybe it is about time we had some luck.

We end the day in the stationery shop. The walls are lined with a rainbow of notebooks and endless different types of pen. I decide to buy a notebook coated with purple fur, the paper inside is pink with butterflies printed in the corner. It will make a change from writing on the back of the used envelopes that Mum gives us.

I am for once excited to start school with new pens and pencils to show off to my friends. For us to walk in the gates for once with pride on the fresh crisp September morning and not be ashamed of our worn out shoes and too tight jumpers. Finally we can have a new start. I may even tell my friends that we won the lottery. I am starting to believe it myself.

For more Distracted Fiction head to

https://distractedby.substack.com/s/distracted-fiction

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This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

Morning!

I’m not a huge fan of January, it has to be said, but this January has been easier because I have been so busy with work I have barely had chance to come up for air.

I am, of course, grateful to be busy - and for the flexible childcare I have managed to secure. (More on this another time!) Hopefully next month will be much the same. Perhaps, this doesn’t bode well for Distracted, but as a freelance designer I never really know what is in store!

When I am busy with work, I find it hard to do all of the things, so please again accept my apologies for not writing much in the last couple of months. I just hope that when I do show up, and you do kindly read my words, that it is worth the wait. I figured too, it is better to show up when I have something to say, rather than habitually. (Although, I know I need to get back into the habit too!)

My reading has also taken a hit, however I do have a short list of gems this month. I would love to hear yours too, for when I find myself lying awake at 5 in the morning. (I find this is my most opportune moment to read things on Substack, much to my partner’s dismay.)

Enjoy and see you next time.

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. I wrote about my kids being boring again: When your muse isn’t musing

2. On Parental Control - or lack thereof.

On Substack

1. Here’s what happens when you leave your 12-year-old home alone

2. If your baby’s not autonomous, you’re not doing it right

3. I wrote my Eulogy and it changed everything in my life

4. When the year feels too big

5. Therapists are not parents -

6. I am not enjoying motherhood

7. We miss you when you are on your phone

8. Also please welcome fellow creative, Holly Kielty, to Substack. I loved this piece on daily rituals to find your voice.

   The Soul Strategist

   High Five Friday. This week, daily rituals for finding your voice.

   High Five Fridays are my regular listicles. They’re based on my passion for the number five and my sincere belief in rituals and practices as part of a nourishing, expansive strategy for life…

   Read more

   5 months ago · 1 like · 1 comment · Holly Kielty

Books

1. Entwined - Creativity & Motherhood - an anthology edited by
   I really enjoyed this anthology of motherhood and creativity. I feel like as a creative navigating motherhood, that need to create, the sudden burst of energy that comes with having children along with the sudden lack of time, is something I have felt quite alone with. This is an anthology of mothers whose experiences are a guide to motherhood for someone who considers creativity important to their sense of self. There is also an art journal for mothers - Ember - which I am excited to dive into. Thank you Sarah and the writers for this wonderful collection.

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If you enjoy these recommendations - please share them, it really helps blogs like mine get noticed.

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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Whilst we were in Ireland, we didn’t have BBC iPlayer or Disney + so we relied heavily on Netflix, more so than we would normally. It was here that the children had to find new things to watch.

At first it was a pain, not having our favourite shows to punctuate the day around trips to the park and time playing with grandparents, but they managed and soon they had a new favourite.

Now, if you have young children you may already have heard of this particular show and if you haven’t - block it now - before the kids find it.

Their new favourite is called Grizzy and the Lemmings, and it’s a cartoon about a bear and some lemmings who in a Tom & Jerry / Itchy & Scratchy style way, go out of their way to hurt each other for no apparent reason.

There is no language involved, no words and little storyline. Just pure silliness and violence. It’s funny and in some ways very imaginative, but it lacks any depth.

The children love it and don’t want to watch anything else.

At first I didn’t see it as an issue. It was just hugely annoying and there are many shows they love which I find annoying. cough - Peppa Pig, Paw patrol…But this one is different. The short nature of the clips coupled with the fast moving action - it is one of those shows that has them glued to the screen. This isn’t background TV - this is, like social media clips, designed to pull you in and not let you go.

My partner and I had noticed a change in behaviour in the children. They were suddenly very bothered if away from the TV and only wanted to watch this particular show. There was anger, tears, tantrums if we were to pull them away after being left with Grizzy for a lengthy amount of time. We had hoped it was only available in Ireland, but when we found it on our UK Netflix too, we knew there was only one option.

We utilised our Parental Controls.

We blocked Grizzy.

My partner always tells me that We are the boss. That it is we who make the decisions; not the kids. That we don’t need to argue with them and deliberate. It wasn’t my idea to block it, but I was completely on board. We were in control.

I thought back to my own childhood and wanting to watch the silly stuff. Parents were just being boring wanting us to watch something else. But it does feel different now, it feels like something more sinister is at play here, especially with social media on their horizon. I’m not ready to lose my kids to screens just yet.

When they came home from school, of course they noticed.

When my eldest couldn’t find it, I mentioned that Netflix does sometimes have to remove content, and that it was a shame, but we will find something new to watch.

But my son didn’t fall for it.

Why would they take off something they had only just put on?

He searched for ages. It must have been twenty minutes. I prepared dinner in the time he was looking. He typed the name out in full, he scoured and searched every item that came up in the search. The concentration was immense. It’s not here! he cried.

I suggested once again we find something else, but he didn’t give up. He left Netflix and went into the TV menu, where you can see all the options of apps available, and some that aren’t available. Here you can search everywhere.

He pressed the microphone button and spoke directly to the TV Gods.

Grizzy and the Lemmings!

They delivered.

The TV presented him with several options. One of which was Netflix.

See it is there.

He selected the familiar logo but the parental control blocked his way. White text on a blacked out screen. I don’t know if he read it but he knew it wasn’t going to let him go any further. If he had read it, he would have known to try another profile. He didn’t need to. The TV had already told him that this TV show existed somewhere else - somewhere Mummy usually says is a safe place - BBC iPlayer.

One more click and he was there. Full Access.

Our parental control completely pointless.

I looked to my partner and sighed as the kids began to cackle at the silly mindless violence on our screens once again.

How naïve of us to think we had any control. We should have known better.

Have you ever had to block a TV show?

How do you manage screen time for your kids?

Do your kids have a favourite TV show that drives you mad?

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It’s no secret I have struggled to write for Distracted recently. Partly it has been exhaustion. There is only so much time to write after bed times and around working or looking after the kids. But more than that my kids are just not that interesting any more.

Well, to say they aren’t interesting isn’t probably true, there have been many incidents worth writing about - at one point there were many calls from the head teacher (again) and subsequent parent guilt and worrying. But in some ways the interesting bits are such that they are fraught with ethical issues. Other children are involved and education establishments and teachers who shall not be named. My son can read now and so can his peers. I worry about bullying and name-calling and that my observations of his behaviour and my reactions to it will feel more like a judgement than amusing material. The more this newsletter grows the more my moans about my children could cause some sort of legal implication or psychological problem down the line. Something, let’s face it, none of us have time for.

I’m wondering if it’s okay that I don’t write as much, after all I can barely claim to be the hands-on stay-at-home-mum I once was. Now my youngest is four, the dramas are genuinely fewer and further between.

Of course there is other stuff going on. I’ve just turned 37 and fear my hormone levels may be falling off a cliff, although it could be perpetual stress of working motherhood and an uncertain job - because that is definitely a thing. Christmas obviously, and it’s incredible overwhelm is on my mind. But writing about that is one of the things that doesn’t seem cathartic and actually has a more stress-inducing effect. My youngest starts school next year, so there have been preparations in selecting his school, but not in anyway as extensive as for his brother after all they have to go to the same place. If anything, I am noticing as the stress of the first child lessens, with its fewer news and firsts, the second just follows on behind - milestones go unnoticed, which of course causes pangs of mum guilt in itself.

Everything is easier now, and as my whole brand is built on complaining, perhaps it’s more honest to say I have less to complain about now, and maybe that’s a good thing?

So What is Next?

A pivot is probably ahead, and I hope it suits you, but I can only write about what I know:

• My kids (less interesting, as I have explained)

• My freelance design venture and my quest for flexible working (it’s a rollercoaster, I promise you!)

• My efforts to write and be creative with and in spite of the responsibilities of motherhood

• My hormones and life as I hurtle towards mid-life

• Life as a woman in this male-dominated world (I mean that never gets boring - right?)

So I hope you stick around and I hope to bring some interesting writing to you in 2026!

In the meantime, here are 5 of my favourites from 2025

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for unlimited access to my writing. An annual subscription is less than £1 a week. You could also treat me to a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – for a one off £4 payment, or you could simply like and share Distracted. Either way, your support means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading Distracted.

This is a regular post featuring the best of what has been distracting me each month. It could be anything that has made me think: the hidden gems of Substack, a book, a podcast or even something on the telly. I would love it if you shared what you have enjoyed this month too – come join me in the comments on the app or simply reply to this email.

Firstly, I would like to apologise for the absence of October’s Distracted By newsletter and would like to swiftly blame the two week half-term holiday (!!) that was thrust upon us. It wasn't all bad, we took our first family holiday in years just the four of us and whilst it did rain a lot, we relaxed a lot, we did a lot and we laughed a lot. It was great.

Two things have been happening since then. Firstly, obviously after a trip to Hastings, Bexhill and St Leonards-on-Sea, we now joke about packing up and leaving our London suburb in search for the calm of the seaside. Of course, seasides aren’t the same when you live there and have proper lives to live and just because some where is far from London doesn’t mean it’s affordable. (Far it’s only an hour and a half, but slightly too long for a commute in my opinion) - Anyway, I think they call this the post-holiday blues. The second is that finding freelance work has been tough again this autumn and I feel like I spend far too much time convincing people of my worth, which in time can become demoralising and make day-to-day working life feel all a bit pointless, which has in turn added to the post-holiday blues. Not the best time of year for it, but we also know we could have it much worse, so here’s to November and the crazy month that is to come as we prepare for the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. Good Luck to all…

Here are some gems I have uncovered from Substack and elsewhere this month and I would love to hear yours. Come join me in the comments. Until next time,

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In case you missed it

1. Thanks to Nursery, My Son has “changed” his name*

2. The Process is Reward Enough

3. Call Me By My Name

*An Update: Since the nursery have been made aware they are calling my son by the wrong name, he has come to recognise his correct name more easily. That said, he has also explained to me that he is either/or, citing both names as correct, which to be honest I think is the best outcome.

On Substack

1. The Legal Trap No One Warned Unmarried Mothers About Important read from

2. The Loneliness of Being the Perfect Parent by

3. To those who tell women to stop being negative

4. on When to repair and when to let go of friends

5. What Happens to a Parent’s Dreams?

6. The Housewife Parable

7. What School-Aged Kids Have Big Feelings and How to Help

8. No 76 - like your life depends on it

9. Stark Raving Dad

10. Should you go part-time? - What to consider by

Elsewhere

1. Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett asks - Do we really expect five-year-olds to sit at desks?
   

Podcasts

1. My love for Dig It with Zoe Ball & Jo Whiley continues. I really enjoyed the menopause special with Dr Naomi Potter. (Also they are on Substack !)

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If you enjoy these recommendations - please share them, it really helps blogs like mine get noticed.

Until next time,

If you enjoy Distracted and would like to support my writing, but can’t afford to upgrade to a paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee (or a cup of tea!) – it’s a one off £4 payment and it will mean the world to me.

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