Hello there poppets! / L Plate Mama

A couple of weeks ago me and my little men were out and about. It seems these days every time I leave the house I have to pack a full picnic for my growing and ever hungry boys. We were parked outside our destination, and I was peeling mandarins, the zesty fresh scent filling the car, passing the little crescents of juiciness over to their eager sticky little hands. As I twisted around in the drivers seat to hand over more segments, I was transported back in time to when the little hands were mine. I’ve been a parent for over 5 years now. Peeling fruit of varying descriptions and twisting round to feed my young. But somehow it seemed it should have been me, legs dangling down not touching the floor, taking segments of satsuma or clementine from my mum’s grown up hand (we didn’t really do mandarins in the UK when I was growing up, satsumas were the easily peeled citrus fruits of my youth). When did I become the grown up? The one driving the car, the one choosing or t...