Kristen Bailey

Given that everyone’s posting their holiday pics, here are a couple of mine: Oh, the great gift of the summer holidays. I do love these six weeks to bond with my little ones and watch them turn on each other. All bets are on to see who will survive this Battle Royale test of nerves and wits. Hint: smart money is on Daenerys, she is small but she can give a quick kick to the shins/balls and run on like nothing happened and I won’t apportion blame because she’s ‘only a baby’

So, apologies for the blog hiatus. I was about but I figured with the sun coming out, you didn't need to hear from lil ol' me for a bit...am I right? Isn't it lovely that summer's finally graced us with her presence? Hello, lovely. You know it's officially summer when you see a man riding a bicycle around town without a shirt. Have you seen him yet? Did he have his t-shirt rolled up and tucked in his trousers as he weaved through the traffic with a can of Foster’s in on

So it’s been a bit of a crud week. There was a strange fog that descended over our house post book-launch. Brexit happened. And no matter how anyone voted, I’m pretty sure we can all agree there was fallout from that. Social media which had been buoyant and full of pictures of comedy cats was now a full-out forum for people displaying their rage, their grief, their sadness. Everything was tinged in grey. My usual levels of optimism were muted and not by news of the fal

#whoissoupermum? So I’ve given you small clues along the way about Souper Mum’s real identity. Her name is Jools Campbell, she has four kids, she can’t really cook for shit. There are shades of me in her: we both like Primark and fish fingers and we both stumble through life and motherhood knowing that we are both not the all-singing, all-dancing wundermothers that you see in commercials and 1950s American TV shows. But then seriously, who is….really? The one thing I’ve fou

So, I’m sorry for making people cry yesterday. Hopefully, they were good tears because the Hound is better and the story had the happiest of endings. I turned my shit around. I submitted the first 1000 words of Souper Mum to a competition, they got back to me a few months later saying they loved it and that it had placed second. I remember that email very well. Cue the happy dancing. After that it was a whirlwind of good that came sweeping in. One of the lovely editors,

Spanners, works. I know all about those at the moment. We’re out of hospital and back home now. I can hardly see for fatigue. I feel disgusting mainly because I’ve been living off a diet of Walkers, Snickers and vending machine drinks for the past two days. I’ve also done a lot of colouring. Isn’t colouring great? Colouring kicks ass. Arya and I spent most of our time colouring minions which means we used a lot of yellow, a lot of blue and I attempted to draw bananas t

So what did I say yesterday? A blog post for every day until the 16th! I'm gonna write like a fricking maniac in the run up to my book's release....look at me go! Well, that was the plan and just like most of my life, the plan decided to do me over. I currently write this from Arya's bedside as doctors pump her full of antibiotics for a horrible eye infection that's gone a bit awry. And all at once, while I'm dancing inside because of writing and books happening, there is not

So, tomorrow will mark exactly one week until Souper Mum gets published. How do I feel? I feel like this most days. Occasionally I feel a little like this. Monday was a high; copies of the book arrived in a big box and I got to hold an actual book written by me in my actual hands. And do you know what that felt like? It felt like the time two and a half years ago when I was on all fours over the side of my bed (oi, oi…get your head out of the gutter…) giving birth to Daenery

I am truly sorry to anyone I worried last week. It was a low point and I think I was a little tired of putting a brave face on it. Things are slightly more buoyant now (oooh, she’s using boat analogies again…). I went heavy university-style drinking on Saturday (thank you, A&Z!) which helped. I drank cocktails out of a jug, got home, fell out of bed twice and left mascara streaked across the pillowcase. Yay! Comedy dancing to this song also helped. And this video of this

Are you married? People ask me this a lot. Not because I hang out at the end of bars looking for fun but mainly because I don’t wear a ring. I’m bad with jewellery; I don’t wear a watch either, I only wear earrings on a night out. And like any mum knows, you avoid necklaces because they’re just asking for a two-year-old to swing off them like a gymnastics bar. But I don’t wear a ring because there is more that binds Ned and I together than just a bit of metal around a fi