All Posts By

Cheryl Parsons

Food

Foodspiration

From spag bol to meat and two veg, if you are anything like me, then you probably stick to the same old tried and tested recipes and dutifully rotate them on a weekly basis. Despite having a cupboard stuffed with cookery books from James Martin to Jamie Oliver, I’ll confess that having to think about what to cook every night of the week can feel like a real chore. Creativity in the kitchen isn’t always my strongest point, and when I do try something new, I usually find I’ve forgotten to purchase a key ingredient.

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Parenthood

Decisions decisions

My mum and dad arrive next week. I can’t wait! Mum’s trips to Dubai usually include a whirlwind of organisation – projects that I’ve wanted to do get finished, things that I’ve craved to get in order suddenly get the Beryl treatment. (Beryl and Cheryl – “the rhyming names reflect the closeness of our relationship,” my mum used to tell me.) When the folks are around, stuff just gets done – and, above all, I’m looking forward to someone else making a few darn decisions for a change.

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Creativity

Meet Mr. Fox

“Inhale the good sh*t, exhale the bullsh&t.” Who doesn’t need to do that from time to time? So, when I see this written on a bottle of aromatherapy spray at Dubai’s ARTE market one day, I’m drawn in. On closer examination, I see they are created by ‘Mr. Fox’ (also quite a selling point.) There’s a potion for everything from tackling PMT (‘Lady Fox’ – I needed this one) to boosting energy (‘Kickstarter’), the natural aphrodisiac, ‘Fox Me’ and much more. The creations are natural, quirky and above all, smell really, really good. (And while I’m not getting paid for writing this, Mr. Fox is just one of those lovely little yogic finds that caught my eye and I wanted to share!) I’m curious to find out the story behind them…

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Parenthood

Out of control

“F*k sake Mummy. Why do we say f&*k’s sake?” Molly asks innocently as we are driving home one day. The husband and I look at each other, slightly horrified, trying to stifle our laughter.

“We don’t say that Molly, it’s not very nice,” I try to explain. “Who says that? Where did you hear that?”

“But Mummy, you do. You say it. All the time, in the morning.”

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Creativity

Robin Hood

One of the gems about having kids is that sometimes you get to go to things that you would secretly like to check out, but might look strange attending without a child in tow. So when an invite to take the little ones to see Robin Hood at Dubai’s Courtyard Playhouse theatre in Al Quoz popped into my inbox, I thought, yes, this is one of those times. Billed as ‘a magical experience for children, that parents will love too’ – it tells the traditional story of Robin Hood and his merry men – but with a fun, interactive twist. And if this little review could be written by Molly, age 3.5 years, it would be given a big thumbs up!

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Parenthood

Spaghetti Junction

“You’re so naughty to me Mummy. You’re always cross,” Molly interrupts my bedtime story to tell me. “You need to calm down, Mummy. Just calm down,” she says, gesticulating by waving her hands up and down with her fingers spread wide. She is referring to the fact that I am cross because she won’t lie still and just listen to the darn story. I keep having to stop and start while she tosses about, chats to some of her teddies and then tells me she needs to get up for some water. “Will you settle DOWN! Are we reading this story or shall I just turn off the light?”

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Parenthood

Break from the norm

Lately I’ve noticed myself using three certain words a heck of a lot. Now, before you close this page for fear this might be some sort of love story about the husband and I – it’s not those three words. Nor is it the three words that make up the abbreviation FFS, although I do confess to letting those slip from time to time too.

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Parenthood

Suits you sir

“You’re looking great!” a friend of mine told me this week. “Seriously?” I reply. “Have you seen these dark circles? And look at this belly!” I say, grabbing a handful of flesh from my mid section. In my head, I’m asking myself if she’s actually seeing the same person that I do when I look in the mirror. I mean, I feel pretty haggered most of the time. I look pretty haggered most of the time. Can she not see that too?

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