Welcome to the mothers-of-boys’ tribe

I spend my life neck-deep in stinky, noisy, dangerous boys’ stuff. I can only look on longingly at the parade of beautiful girls all dressed up and ready for their big events – their pictures plastered all over Facebook.

All I needed was this moment …

You no longer stop to breathe and take in each step, but rather race ahead of yourself on to the next task and the next, stopping only for brief, unsatisfying sleep before diving straight into a new day of endless, monotonous tasks.