Blogs

I thought it would be good to include an unflattering picture here of what I look like after zumba, taken this evening. I'm imagining that the experience of navigating my way through the London throngs to find the venue after a night on the sleeper arriving at 5.30am will be very similar - expect me to arrive looking exhausted, red-faced and sweating...

Name: Pippa Best

Blog: www.storyofmum.com/blog (we're not strictly a blog, but we do have one and I like writing it...)

Twitter ID: @storyofmum

Height: shortish (5 ft 3)

Hair: Long brown, trying to go proudly grey at the front

Eyes: Brown (my Woodcraft Folk name as a child was Hazel, apparently due to the eyes, which look plain brown to me...)

Is this your first blogging conference? Yes!

Are you attending both days? Yes! Though I think I'll have a leave a bit early on Saturday to get the last train all the way back to Penzance sadly...

What are you most looking forward to at BritMums Live! 2013? I'm looking forward to telling people about our exhibition and roping more mums in to play with us. But most of all, to meeting twitter friends in person (I'm a bit scared about that too - as I give the impression here of being quite fun, and I'm not sure I can live up to that without a keyboard...)

What are you wearing? I'm going for my favourite purveyors of fine Cornish clothing - Seasalt, whose business started in my home town of Penzance. Probably this one here (as snapped by my husband soon after purchase, I still had my other clothes on underneath...!) I love their dresses and am pretty much guaranteed to be in my very old and faded pink with white spots raincoat (Seasalt too), with some lovely new frockage underneath. And sensible shoes. Or even boots and wooly tights judging by the current weather...

What do you hope to gain from BritMums Live 2013? That lovely feeling you get when you face up to something that you're scared of, and survive... I'm expecting to feel very good on Saturday night, and to 'entertain' exhausted train passengers on the six hour journey home with over-excited stories of my BritMums adventures - I might even do my presentation for them, all over again. Plus lots of new friends, lots of hugs, possibly some tears, much encouragement to eat cake, and lots of brilliant I'm a mum and a... photos to share with you all here.

Tell us one thing about you that not everyone knows. I've spent the last weekend at a family camp run by an 87 year old American Indian elder and his partner, and it has blown my mind.

Look forward to seeing you there!

I'm sat on my sofa enjoying the comfort of a warm house, shattered but happy, after a wonderful weekend camping at Plan-It Earth in Sancreed with about 40 grown ups and 20 children. It rained, our tent felt like it would be blown away from the moment we arrived, we barely slept, I cried (several times). And yet I am left uplifted, hopeful and affirmed by the experience.

Manitonquat is an 87 year old Native American elder, steeped in storytelling and a heartfelt understanding of the natural world. His partner, Ellika, is a Swedish writer, one of those women I aspire to be as I grow wiser - open, serene and full of love.

Together, they hosted a weekend for individuals and families, sharing their learning about living together as a community: listening with the heart, respecting and supporting each other, and above all, learning from the children around us.

As a mother, it was deeply inspiring. To see my children appreciated as a gift to others - acknowledged as my valuable contribution to the world. Manitonquat's words above (he is currently writing his 11th book, this one on parenting) capture my parenting beliefs too. My children will go on to forge their own path, but I know that wherever they go, their start will be rooted in love, and being heard. 

I was actually terrified about signing up for this experience - camping with two small children, probably without my partner due to his work schedule. Yet I felt I should go.

I mentioned the idea to my son, and he was so thrilled at the thought of camping with Native American Indians that he asked me about it every single subsequent day for weeks.

And then each time I thought "oh no I don't think I could manage that on my own", a reminder about the weekend would magically appear somewhere - in my inbox, in a pile of leaflets by the till as I shopped... So eventually I decided there must be a message there! We would find a way to afford it, and I would find a way to brave the challenges - for my family and for me.  

As Friday came, I doubted my choice. I felt sick, scared of camping with people I didn't know, scared of what we might be asked to do, scared that my children would be unhappy and a burden to others, scared that my husband wouldn't be able to join us - I would be alone in the unknown. The weather forecast was bad. The amount of stuff I needed to take, two kids in tow, seemed ridiculous.  

We arrived in the rain, our kind taxi driver venturing deep up grassy tracks to try and get us close to the campsite itself.

The site was a warren of secluded camping spots surrounded by trees and I had no idea where to head. The kids looked on, still confident that I had all the answers... I didn't.

Just as I felt ready to weep into the stinging nettles, help arrived, and we were escorted through the rain to our magical bell tent.

I still had no idea where the compost toilets were, no idea where we would meet for our first family camp dinner, but we had found refuge. It was cosy.

And as the kids and I inflated the mattress and rolled around giggling in our sleeping bags, it became home.

And so the weekend began. As families and individuals together, we listened deeply to each other, we saw the beauty in each other and we reflected that back. To hear others say that they saw the strengths in my parenting, that I was doing a good job - was an incredible feeling. When does that ever happen??

My husband was able to join us in the evenings (and even better, in the mornings to make us breakfast!). Our first ever nights as a family together in a tent were special. The children (who stayed up each night 'till 9 or 10...!) slept happily.  While my partner and I got very little sleep, there was much appreciation of this special family time - of the sound of wind and rain on canvas, and then the shadows of waving plants as the sun finally came out in the morning.

During the daytime, Manitonquat encouraged everyone to play with the children - to be led and taught by them. It's precious precious time when we truly listen to our children and play.

So we had water fights, a lot of them... We learnt about making bamboo spears, we shared cuddles and stories.

Wonderfully for me (especially without any dad-help) there were four young women and Rosie, the daughter of the house, (christened 'my friends' by my besotted daughter) available to look after the children whenever they were happy to play together, bringing them to us when they needed cuddles or food.

So I had a rare chance to take time for me, to follow much of Manitonquat and Ellika's talks and tasks, and to make new connections with some lovely people. My son had the chance to adventure further than I have ever let him go before - journeying with his friends. I freaked out, but it seems he is ready. My daughter wove her spell on everyone she met.

I learnt that I am a good mother. That all that I have been doing here with story of mum fits. That my vision of building on our Mums Being Heard Days and creating opportunities for mothers to come together, to celebrate and create, to be seen, heard and valued, has a place. I found that many of the instinctive activities we've explored recently are also present in Manitonquat's vision of a Circle Way, one that has been years in the making (like focused listening, sharing the good and the bad feelings we have about ourselves, giving compliments, celebrating together...). I felt connected to something bigger and deeper.

I am full of it now. I hope that feeling stays. Watching my son trying to stay awake round the campfire to hear stories of American Indian gods, and giants, was magical. Seeing my daughter choosing when she wanted to be with me and when she wanted to head off to play with others was beautiful.

Returning home, my daughter smelt of honey and woodsmoke, my son's cheeks were flushed with adventure. And me? I was left with a sense that I should share my vision for story of mum's future with you all very soon.

Best of all, Manitonquat's advice doesn't just apply to parenting. "Listen and hug" seems a pretty good approach to life in general. 

All you need to bring is a cup of tea (save your teabag!). Dunking biscuits are encouraged but optional...

We'll be having a go at this month's activity together: a Storm in a Teacup.

Have you ever had your tea-leaves read? Well we're going to try to read each others this week - making our very own pictures and sharing them to see if anyone else has a clue what we've made. Our 'storms' in our teacups are the arguments we have must often that we wish we didn't....

I just had fun turning this lovely picture of my daughter into a mini manifesto for story of mum to spur you on, let's celebrate and get creative together!

We even have a prize! Check out the beautiful Royal Albert bone china vintage tea cup and saucer set below. No idea how I will post it to you wherever you may be in the world without a crockery smashing disaster, but I will give it a go and hope you don't have to pick up the pieces!

Yellow roses apparently signify joy, warmth, and friendship, so are of course perfect for story of mum! To enter for a chance to win, just add #somum to your tweets during the Make Date and we'll choose a winner randomly.

What's a #somum Make Date?

It's a chance for mums to get together on twitter and tweet while we attempt to do something creative - like doodling, taking a photo, making stuff or even squidging plasticine. 

We give ourselves some creative me-time and connect with other lovely mums. We do it every second Wednesday of the month and we would love you to join us. New friends are always very welcome.

You don't have to be a clever crafter, an artist or wordsmith. We're all about having a go regardless of talent or experience. Most of all, it's about getting together and having fun.

If you just want to chat, that's completely fine. If you just want to make something and lurk and never tell us you're there, that's fine too. We're just happy you're making time for you. 

Just search for #somum on twitter to find us, and add #somum to your tweets to join the conversation. You'll need to join twitter first if you haven't already, or you can just play along and never let us know you're there.

Find out more about the kind of things we usually get up to here. Here are a few of my first Storm in a Teacup attempts to get us started.

Other competition rules

• Duplicate accounts, automated entries, bulk entries or third party entries will be disqualified
• Winners will be chosen at random from all those tweeting using #somum between 20.30 GMT and 22.00 GMT on 12 June 2013. 
• The judges’ decision is final and no correspondence will be entered into.
• The competition will run from 20.30 GMT and 22.00 GMT on 12 June 2013 in Great Britain.
• story of mum is compliant with the data protection act. While we will share the twitter names of winners and their tweets with great excitement, we will not pass on any other details to any third party without your prior consent.

This is one of the very worst aspects of my character. Trying to take the high ground when I'm being just as irritating and unreasonable as he is, if not more so. (Obviously I am now banking on the fact that my husband does not read my blog, as this post would seriously impact my ability to take the high ground in future arguments...)

It's been a few days since my last relationship row. But last night I had a delightful argument with my 5 year old son over my disasterous fringe-cutting attempt, (having received last minute warning of a school photo taking place tomorrow).

When I say argue I mean that I pretty much sat on his legs shouting "KEEP STILL!!" attempting to bribe him with TV and sweets.

It wasn't a very satisfying argument as it mostly consisted of me going "Stay still, I'm trying to cut your hair!", him yelling "no!" and wriggling away, and me trying to come up with ever more cunning ways to keep him there. Bribes, threats, bribes, threats, over and over again, getting louder and less effective each time.

To be fair, cutting my son's hair is probably the most terrifying thing I have to do on a regular basis. Those sharp scissors so close to his eyes and him jerking away randomly. It's horrible. Which is why I normally take him to an actual qualified hairdresser. But last night it was a fringe cut by me or forever remembering his first year at school as The Yeti Year.

What do you argue about with your loved ones? And what are you really arguing about underneath? What's hiding at the bottom of your cup...?

When I actually took a cuppa's worth of time out to think about the arguments I have (as opposed to just getting on with life until the next one) I realised something important.  The subtext of all my rows with my husband is that one or other or both of us don't feel appreciated for what we are contributing right then. And maybe that's not so hard to rectify, we probably just have to remember to say thank you more.

With my son, I couldn't find any significant subtext, just a significant amount of hair. Neither of us felt like we were being listened to, that's for sure. And there was a lot of fear, from both of us, about what the other person wanted. Looking back on it now, I wonder what would have happened if I had just backed down and sent him in with pigtails today. Would Yeti Year really have been so bad? At least he would have felt listened to. As it was, we had a big cuddle afterwards and that seemed to make everything OK. A heartfelt cuddle is generally a good way to end any argument.

So what does all this have to do with our next mums' Make Date on twitter?

Well, this month we're creating our very own Storm in a Teacup, shaping tea-leaves into pictures at the bottom of mugs that sum up our most common arguments. As you do...  

Our arguments might be with our partners, children, family, whoever - what's that argument you have most often? If you don't argue, what's the unspoken tension? 

Have a cuppa and have a think about what's really going on when you row. Then use your leftover tea-leaves to show us.

Come join us on twitter on Wednesday 12 June from 8.30 - 10pm (world times here) for a shared cuppa. Let's swirl our tea-leaves and see if we can make a picture that anyone else can interpret... that alone should be worth a laugh.

We'll be chatting with other mums, sharing photos of our terrible attempts, and generally making each other feel better about the ups and downs of motherhood.

All mums are welcome and we would love you to join us - you don't have to play with tea-leaves if you don't want to. Find out more about #somum Make Dates here.

Or maybe it's just me, maybe everyone else just gets on brilliantly all the time. Do you? Do you? Please tell me that's not true!

Time for another cuppa...

After a final final final warning, I confirmed he couldn't go on the late afternoon bike ride he'd been looking forward to all day. He started to wail, loudly, in the front garden. My 2 year old began crying, equally loudly, in sympathy, and because she'd wanted to go scooting.

I wrangled them inside and tried moving them into the back yard so she could at least scoot there (it's very small...). They started trying to out-wail each other. I tried to feed them tea, tried to distract them with games, stories, but still no bike ride. I wasn't giving in to demands for TV. The wailing continued. Eventually, caught in my own spiderweb of confused discipline, I started crying too.

And they stopped. 

5 year old: "What's the matter, Mummy?" 2 year old: "Are you OK Mummy?"

Me, quietly, snotty tears "It's you two, you're doing my head in..."

5 year old "Sorry Mummy, you should have said. We would have stopped."

I had to laugh. But I still felt like a crap mum.

I went on twitter and my lovely mummy friends told me tomorrow was another day.

 The next day (yesterday) started well. Mainly because I had my first and only childcare for the whole of the holiday week, and was able to make a dent in my massive work pile. I started to feel a bit less stressed. But soon after collecting them both (with a carefully home-cooked picnic that neither of them would eat), my 2 year old daughter fell in the park. Teeth into lip, blood everywhere. Lots and lots of blood. 

I retreated to twitter again. And the confessions started. And I started to feel normal again. It makes such a difference when mums come together.

And today? Today was a good day. You can see how my daughter's lip is looking now - not too bad.

Thank you mamas. You know who you are.

My name is Desiree. I've been a teacher for six years, and a mother for 20 months.  I find the joy, pain, frustration, hilarity and wonder of motherhood to be the most profound teaching and learning experience I've ever had. 

What do you want to say to expecting mothers?

Before deciding to have a child, there's much talk of the need to be prepared for motherhood and parenting.  Other parents in our lives encourage us to make sure we've had enough life experience, that we have our professions and finances in order, that we are generally in a "good place" to have children. 

When we are expecting children, the desire and need to prepare becomes more urgent, and we ask loved ones for advice on how (and how not) to raise children, and read celebrated books about how to best help our children sleep, talk, behave, and eventually attend Ivy League institutions. 

But what I believe is among the most important preparations an expecting mother can make is simply to know that you cannot possibly prepare yourself for the love you will feel for your child.  I say this as a mother who had a very, very challenging beginning with my daughter -- none of the sadness and difficulty that I experienced during my daughter's infancy, or the struggles that I continue to experience, can compare to how profoundly and permanently loving her has changed me.  I have actually typed and deleted several sentences in attempts to do justice in its description. 

Expecting mama, just know that you are about to love as you never have before, and though there is no way to truly prepare for it, you are more than up to the task.

This post was collected by the Museum of Motherhood (M.O.M) in New York, partners in our online and touring exhibition Story of Mum: Mums making an exhibition of ourselves. You can add your own I'm a mum and a... photo here.

We would love to see you on the exhibition tour. Find out about the latest events on our exhibition page. Visit and join in with the online exhibition here. 

And if you'd like to host a virtual exhibition tour stop on your website, we'd love to have you - just let us know!

I am a mother of two toddlers. I am on duty 24 hours a day, seven days a week, to feed them, stimulate their minds, keep them clean, guide them, give them structure, love them, and appreciate them.

It's a job that I didn't expect to be as hard as it is. I have far less patience than I thought I had. Yet, I wouldn't trade my family for any other in the world. I love to see my children play together or with their father.

Some days I feel unorganized, too tired, and at a loss, but even at the end of those days, their sleepy smiles make it all better. I am far from perfect, but I look forward to learning every day.

 What do you want to say to expecting mothers?

Throw all expectations out the window!

EVERY child is different; every child you will have, every child every other woman has had will be different from the other. Every child grows and develops at their own pace and choosing.

You just keep trying, nurturing, loving, and laughing with them, and everything will be just fine.

This post was collected by the Museum of Motherhood (M.O.M) in New York, partners in our online and touring exhibition Story of Mum: Mums making an exhibition of ourselves. You can add your own I'm a mum and a... photo here.

We would love to see you on the exhibition tour. Find out about the latest events on our exhibition page. Visit and join in with the online exhibition here. 

And if you'd like to host a virtual exhibition tour stop on your website, we'd love to have you - just let us know!

My name is Chantal Fowles. I'm a mother and a coach.

I have dreamed about being a mother since I was a little girl. My father died when I was a baby so I always aspired to be like my mother. She was an awesome mother who was able to give her three daughters a great life on her own.

After college, I got accepted into medical school. I love children and wanted to become a child psychiatrist. Only two weeks after beginning school, I found out I was pregnant.

The timing was horrible, and upsetting, but I was excited about becoming a mother. I knew very early in my pregnancy that I would never go back to medical school. Being present in my child's life, was and will always be the most important thing to me.

I now have two children. They are the driving force of my life. I want to be the best mother possible, while being successful enough to give them everything they need.

I also coach a high school step team in South Florida. As their coach, I am responsible for making sure the girls are prepared for competitions or showcases. I believe, however, that my job far exceeds mere preparation. I have become their big sister, mentor, advisor, tutor and confidant. I am extremely blessed to have the opportunity to work with such an amazing group of young ladies.

What is the most rewarding thing about being a mother?

For me, the most rewarding thing about being a mother is watching my children learn and grow. Every first brings pure excitement and joy!

My four year old son Justin just started playing basketball. During his first game, he cried and cried. About two games later, he was able to score a point! For some, one basket isn't something to get excited about, but it was the most exciting experience of that week. I was so proud to see him conquer his fears and actually score.

My daughter, on the other hand, is only 9 months old. Every day is exciting! She is constantly learning new things; sitting up, babbling, crawling, cruising, how to pick up snacks, etc.

Experiencing the many accomplishments in my children's lives, makes me feel like my life has purpose. 

This post was collected by the Museum of Motherhood (M.O.M) in New York, partners in our online and touring exhibition Story of Mum: Mums making an exhibition of ourselves. You can add your own I'm a mum and a... photo here.

We would love to see you on the exhibition tour. Find out about the latest events on our exhibition page. Visit and join in with the online exhibition here. 

And if you'd like to host a virtual exhibition tour stop on your website, we'd love to have you - just let us know!

When I became a mother I left my job to stay home.  I made that decision because it was the very best thing for our family at that moment. 

Like many big life decisions there have been positive and negative outcomes.  On the positive side, I have been able to transition my family to three different states in five years, gave them the time and stability to develop into themselves, and had time to reflect on my life and circumstances.  On the negative side, I have experienced isolation, financial vulnerability and a loss of self. 

After 8 years at home, and our last move, I decided to return to school to obtain a Masters Degree.  I put in my application on a whim, never expecting to be accepted, but it has indeed been the way that I have truly reinvented myself to be me, a scholar and me a mom. 

I am a Mom, I am a scholar.  I learn from an academic perspective about motherhood, and I can be introspective about my lived experience of being a mom. 

I am living a true autoethnography and seeing my research playing out in my academic projects and my research participants, my daughter Taylor and son Ryan.  A mother, a scholar.

When new moms get together and talk, what do they often talk about?

A very vivid conversation I had as a new mother was in an Early Childhood Education class.  The facilitator was trying to make a statement about mothers being more open to father helping with childcare and household chores even if they do it differently.  She brought in towels to fold.  I remember every person in the class being very firm in their way of folding towels.  I couldn’t have cared less. 

Many conversations as a new mother had this theme – household tasks and obsessive stories of their children.  I found information about motherhood was either ridden with advice, or gushing with “don’t you just love being a mom?” .  I never fit in. 

When I started doing research about motherhood, I felt like the women writing the articles and books were people that I wanted to talk to.  With this journey of being a mother and a scholar I get to talk with other people who read and write about motherhood in this context and have even met a few.

This post was collected by the Museum of Motherhood (M.O.M) in New York, partners in our online and touring exhibition Story of Mum: Mums making an exhibition of ourselves. You can add your ownI'm a mum and a... photo here.

We would love to see you on the exhibition tour. Find out about the latest events on our exhibition page. Visit and join in with the online exhibition here. 

And if you'd like to host a virtual exhibition tour stop on your website, we'd love to have you - just let us know!

I began playing music with my rock band Housewives On Prozac in 1997, as I looked for words and tunes to describe the chaos, love and loss of becoming a mother.

The chaos was because I had four kids under the age of five. I was sick with Lupus (brought on by pregnancy) and I was looking for ways to survive.

The love part almost doesn't have words. It only has music. It's the kind of cosmic music that plays on the heartstrings of God every time a spirit incarnates and a mother is born.

My 'Mother-self' was born the day my children were born. First I was one. Then two. Then many. Connected in ways I never imagined.

The loss was the loss of my solo-self. The loss of my former life; of thinness giving way to softness, softness giving way to otherness and otherness ultimately giving way to the destruction of all I was before.

Maybe because I was sick, everything was much more dramatic. But, the point is, something often dies to make way for something new and the new me, is here because of my children and everything they represent.

By the way - I love my fuller, riper, rounder self, because my children have made me a bigger (and better) human being!

What advice do you have for a new mother?

Go to therapy for a minimum of 2 years before becoming pregnant. Make sure you are basically well in your head, and that you want to become a parent for the 'right' reasons.

Be thoughtful about the process. Become educated. Read books. Talk to people. Join a support group.

While you are pregnant listen to music and do yoga. Pray a lot. Talk to your higher-self, then talk to your baby to be.

Take a women and gender studies course at a local university. Visit the Museum of Motherhood online and in New York City and hold on for the ride. 

Joy Rose is currently the acting director and curator for the first ever Museum of Motherhood in NYC. MOMmuseum.org

This post was collected by the Museum of Motherhood (M.O.M) in New York, partners in our online and touring exhibition Story of Mum: Mums making an exhibition of ourselves. You can add your ownI'm a mum and a... photo here.

We would love to see you on the exhibition tour. Find out about the latest events on our exhibition page. Visit and join in with the online exhibition here. 

And if you'd like to host a virtual exhibition tour stop on your website, we'd love to have you - just let us know!