Category: Leigh

My Mummy

On Monday I decided to get the boys to write a poem about their mummy as a test. I made each of them answer questions and then we compiled that into verse. To be honest it was a bit of fun to keep them amused. It was just as much fun for me. I did most of the compilation but almost all the words are theirs, and certainly all the imagery.


My Mummy

by Ben, Elliott and Asher

My mummy is a nice grass,
A love that is good
With arms and legs.

Her hair is like candy floss
Paper filled with naughty words.

Her eyes are hazelnuts
They can see fear.
They play a game.

Mummies nose is a cone,
With dinosaur’s nostrils.
Or a big fat poo,
A towel,
Made for glasses.

Her mouth is a lipstick’s stick,
Of fiery breath,
That shouts all quiet.

Her ears just hear my voice,
Like a giraffe
Always listening.

She has legs that I don’t know,
Filled with muscles,
And with bones,
An organ wraps around them,
Right down to the toes,
As they came last.

Her arms are like her legs,
But they put things into cups,
Press buttons,
And create.

Mummies brain is the best.
Very, very, smart.
Is for talking just like me,
Is numbers
And a game pad.

But her love is so pretty,
And very, very, strong.
She loves Asher, maybe also…
And Ben.
Simply, all of us.

Why are you in Edinburgh Markie?

or: My God that was a Long Road

or: My Wife is Smarter than I am

or: Filled with Awe

I know it is bad grammatical form to put three sub headings in a line with no text in-betweenst them but i felt it was a title thing, like the start of a silly movie or a book, and I like the notion…


My God that was a Long Road

It has been a long seven years for Leigh, in fact it is eight but that’s a complex story to tell and I want this to be the first snapshot.

We are in Edinburgh with the kids, the other kids, and the responsible person who is probably a kid, for Leigh’s graduation this weekend. She could have chosen almost anywhere in the UK, but she came home. Leigh was born in Edinburgh and spent her early years in Scotland. Like her mother she is Scottish in her heart and in her birthright, it is here she came home to for an accolade justly deserved. We are here so Leigh can go to the graduation ceremony for her Psychology degree.

My Wife is Smarter than I am

I am not trying to win easy praise, or give it either. I am not being an atypical male ‘oh she’s quite smart, possibly smarter than I in some respects, what, what, what…’. I am talking book smart. Dedication to theory smart. Follow the evidence/facts, deduce and infer smart. She is logical, precise and well structured academically. She is smart.

I am clever. But, like a monkey clever. Kinda like, oh dear it is too late and I threw it already so you can’t duck the poo, clever.

Filled with Awe

So why am I filled with awe?

  • 8 years;
  • A full time job;
  • A wedding;
  • Five pregnancies;
  • Two successful pregnancies;
  • A two.eight year old, a one year old and a going on 2nd-childhood-year-old husband;
  • A full time job (yes, it is there twice, think about it);
  • A science degree taken, completed, passed.

Do I really need to explain why I am in awe of my wife?


I guess I can claim some credit. I did a lot of housework, most of the cooking, a lot of the day-to-day life organising….well, shit, of course I damned well did, did you not read the above list? Were there hours in the day where she could have done that, well, yes. But you know we had to make the kids some way, and apparently she needed to sleep and occasionally we went on holiday…wait she took college work with her then…

There were very few hours in the day.

I did what I could, I could have done more, she is grateful I didn’t do less.

I wanted to mention me, because I partly share, I helped, but I helped because it is who I am.

She did it all.

I am in incredible awe of Leigh’s achievement.

(I hope this weekend there will be more words and pictures to share).