Loz

story of mum wouldn't exist if it wasn't for Loz. I know if she were still around, she'd be spurring me on, joining in, making amazing things happen. When I first had the idea, and dismissed it - I thought of her. And decided, in her spirit, to give it a go. And here we are.

But sadly she isn't here. And I miss her. And as we get close to launching the site, I miss her more. Because I would love to show her what we've made. But more than that, I would love to show her her two beautiful little boys, her lovely husband, her family, her friends, the love that remains strong in her wake.

When I was pregnant with my first child, Loz told me I could call her any time, day or night. She said that the night might be the time I felt worst, found it hardest, and I could call her, no matter what time it was - even if all I wanted to do was swear or cry. I never called her at 3am - but through those difficult exhausting frustrating nights, I knew I could - and that helped me immensely. She taught me that you're not a failure if you struggle - it would be weirder if you didn't.

In the daytime, I did ask Loz for help - for tips on feeding, baby ailments, nappies, relationships, whatever my latest crisis might be. My boy was (and still is) always dressed in her sons' hand-me-downs. Much of my parenting was (and still is) influenced by her generous hand-me-down advice. She told me to always get three people's advice on anything and then make up my own mind based on which voice felt right to me. Her voice still sings loudly in my head.

She was an inspiration and role model for how to juggle family and work - balancing her baby on her hip at board meetings, living in a deliciously messy house, and managing to hold four conversations at once. I can still see her sitting in my front room with the boys racing around – Loz has just brought round another huge bag full of clothes for Jago, Max is playing with the pop-up ball, and Jasper is coming in for a breastfeed. We’re drinking herbal tea and eating vegan flapjacks and lemon cake, while Loz and I manage to carry on a half intelligent conversation about work and life and love.

When she went, it was sudden, immediate, no time to prepare. The shock has waned now, but the loss is still very current. I think about her often - the moments I would like to share with her so much, but can't. I am so sad she is gone but so glad to have known her friendship.

Loz was a gentle spark that set all sorts of wonderful things in motion. Always moving yet somehow calm. Generous with her time, her advice, her smiles and her energy.  She was a fantastic mum, and an amazing friend. She loved making eccentric (sometimes positively disturbing!) things, making films, and making other people's lives better. She was vibrant, creative and passionate. I hope she would be proud of what we've made here.

To Loz, with love.