Could you hit your child?

Could you ever hit your child?

I should have been holding his hand but I wasn’t. He saw our car, parked on the other side, and ran to climb inside. He didn’t see the van crossing his path. It happened so fast. He ran, brakes screeched, I screamed, he stopped, bewildered. I slapped the back of his legs and then hugged him tight. His face crumpled in hurt and confusion. I remember that moment years ago so clearly, and berate myself for it over and over again. I have never hit either of my children since, and yet toddler parent frustration often left me wondering what …

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Ski: Le Hameau du Kashmir – self-catering hotel style.

I am utterly spoiled for every single ski trip I take in future years. Seriously. Totally ruined. The phrase ski-in-ski-out has entered my consciousness, made itself at home, and will forevermore be the barometer by which I measure all future ski trips. This is the view from our apartment at Le Hameau du Kashmir, in Val Thorens over Easter. That slope you see, under the cable car, is not ten steps from the door of our locker room. Which, by the way, contains heated boot posts and glove hangers, so you always start the day with warm, dry fingers, and cosy feet. …

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Diabetes: I wish I could be happy

How could you not be happy on a candy floss day like this one?

  I’m never happy. It dawned on me just now as I drove home. It’s a glorious day, the best kind; the sun is shining, the trees look like candy floss, heavy with blossom, and the streets are filled with busy families on their way to tennis, drama clubs, or ballet. I’m one of them. Two years ago I would have rejoiced in a day like today. I would have dug out my sandals, planned a barbeque for lunch, and invited friends for cocktails. I’d have walked in the sun, breathed the air, and revelled in my life. It’s just …

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