Monthly Archives: March 2013

Flying from one era to the next

28 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by in Family, Play

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Bumblebee craft

This is a bumblebee I made with my toddler this week for her last ever tots’ music session. I wanted to make the effort to actually bother with the herculean task of crafting with a two year old, as this week felt like a bit of a milestone.

Not only has my toddler just had her last music session but, more importantly, she has had her last day with the two childminders who have cared for her, cuddled her and played with her since January last year.

Today has been a day of ends. Continue reading »

Walking with clouds

27 Wednesday Mar 2013

Posted by in Walking

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Walking. It’s such a simple activity, something so many of us take for granted. A nice walk on a summer’s day, a gentle stroll along a beach, a hurried run up a flight of stairs.

The pace that we travel through the world is set by how we walk, changing as we age. Those first bumpy steps that mark a baby’s transition to toddlerhood. The slowed shuffle of an elderly person wandering down a supermarket aisle. That gentle placing of each foot in front of the other is an action we don’t even think about. We just do it.

Unless we can’t. Continue reading »

Turning 30 and getting new slippers

27 Wednesday Mar 2013

Posted by in Fashion, pampering

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Review

I turn 30 later this year. For some reason, that milestone feels like a big one. Perhaps it’s because we’re on the edge of change. Perhaps it’s because I have an irrational desire to reach a certain point and achieve certain things before my 30th birthday. Or perhaps it’s something incredibly simple, in that 30 is a nice round (big) number.

Whatever my wobbles with my birthday in October, I am coming to terms with it in the only way I know how; a mixture of burying my head in the sand and fervent planning.

Part of the planning strategy involves embracing an incomprehensible new yearning for comfort. Now, when choosing clothes, I ask myself if they’re both pretty AND comfortable. I lust over thick blankets in homeware departments and eagerly await the moment I can invest in a huge new bed and sofa to sink into at the end of a long day. Continue reading »

Parenting a toddler – picking your battles the wise way

26 Tuesday Mar 2013

Posted by in Behaviour

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Today has been a day of battles. It has also been the reminder that, before becoming a mother, I had no idea of what REAL, nail-biting, tear-inducing, vomit-making stress feels like.

The lunchtime nursery pick-up started as normal. As I drove the usual route I planned an afternoon of painting and snuggles watching CBeebies with my two year old. Rushing into the nursery, I was greeted with positive indifference.

My shining diva child did not want to be collected. She wanted to carry on playing with her friends and didn’t much like the idea of going back to her boring home with her boring mummy.

Stung but undeterred, I shrugged. One battle down, telling myself she’d be fine once we got outside, I kept up the smile and cheerfully ignored my tot’s angry grumbles. Continue reading »

Karaoke Queen

25 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by in Play

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If a house could have its own soundtrack, ours would be full of Five Little Monkeys, Wind The Bobbin Up and The Wheels On The Bus, interspersed with a few One Direction and Olly Murs hits.

My two year old has always loved music, from the newborn days when she’d stop and turn her head towards the direction of my (mostly awful) singing, to now, when she tends to do most of the singing herself.

Singing at bedtime

Singing at bedtime

As a baby, we did a singing session at a local church hall, involving lots of plastic instruments and bells. Then, at around 9 months, we switched to a different club that didn’t clash with sleep patterns, and we’ve been going there ever since. But, due to changes in lifestyle and childcare patterns, this Thursday will be Frog’s last ever session at that group. Continue reading »

Africa through my sister’s eyes

23 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by in Charity, Family

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My little sister is a doctor. It still feels strange writing that because, to me, she will always be that lovable, annoying, mischievous little imp that used to follow me around making kissing noises when she saw me talking to boys.

Lizzy

My funny little sister, aged 2.

Now she is a fully qualified, practising doctor, with two years (hellish) junior doctor experience under her belt.

She is the person running through hospital corridors, administering drips, doing blood tests, resuscitating dying patients, diagnosing illness. While my work consists of entertaining via the written word and speech, hers is all about saving lives. In short, my sister has a proper job. Continue reading »

Embracing my non-superwoman status

21 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by in Motherhood, Work

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Me, operating at full superwoman capacity. Kind of.

Me, operating at full superwoman capacity. Kind of.

I was in a car crash on Tuesday. Not a serious one; I haven’t broken anything and there’s barely any damage to my car, but it was enough to leave me shaken and sore.

As I waited patiently for a safe crossing on a busy roundabout I was hit from behind by a driver who failed to brake in time. He was apologetic and visibly shaken. I was in a daze. After we exchanged details, attempting to dodge the mounting traffic, I started to feel sick. I gulped back the tears threatening to fall and got back in my car, driving the 10 minutes back to work on autopilot. It wasn’t until I fell through the door of the office that I realised how much I was shaking. Continue reading »

The one in which I get new specs

18 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by in Fashion

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Review

I have had to wear glasses since the age of 14. My first glasses were gold rimmed and now remind me of the wolf dressed up as the grandmother in Little Red Riding Hood. They did me no favours.

Fast-forward a few years and I started opting for black-rimmed, thin wired ones. Then the frames got a bit heavier. And then this happened:

Broken glassesAfter my toddler broke my favourite pair of glasses I was left with red-rimmed Timmy Mallet ones. Again, they did me no favours. Continue reading »