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Symptoms to Take Notice of in Children

The NHS has been facing ever-increasing pressures in recent years, with slashed budgets, staff shortages and lack of resources taking its toll on the quality of care. One of the many ways we commonly see the impact of these pressures is in waiting times for GP…

Mother of the Bride Guide

The day you’ve dreamed of for years has finally arrived! Your little girl is all grown up and has chosen a partner to start her life with, and you are officially a MoB -- Mother of the Bride! While congratulatory remarks are appropriate at this juncture, so are a few…

How to Through A Larger Than Life Small Wedding on a Budget

This one is as simple as crowdfunding your honeymoon. It might sound strange at first, but do you really need another blender or set of dinner plates? Instead of having your guests purchase a bunch of things you’ll end up trying to return anyway, why not let them chip in for…

Crunching, snapping, grinding, squeezing, crushing, pulverising pressure was my first ever Christmas pressie from Boo. Then she went and ordered me a back massage. She does love me. I think.

I normally frequent beauty establishments where you are consistently referred to as 'love', prices are handwritten on florescent cardboard stars sellotaped round the edge of mirrors, and throughout your stay there is a scraggy, flea ridden stray cat rubbing its way in and out of your ankles.
My massage was at Saks. It's neurotically tidy, there are an abundance of perfectly coiffed gay stylists and strangers keep asking me how I feel. I always find this Disney-eque interest in my well being terribly unnerving. Such places make me feel inept, oafish and have me constantly checking my back for a 'kick me' sign. How I escape such establishments with any dinner money is a bloody miracle. And everyone smells gorgeous. Which only serves to heighten my insecurity regarding the ammonia based nappy stink which I now most proudly exude.

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