A few days ago I had a wobble.

I worried that we’d uprooted our three year old from everything she knew and that she wasn’t happy. I over-thought everything and, rather than just cracking on with the business in hand of settling in, I panicked.

Tantrums are exhausting, but tantrums every ten minutes are MIND BLOWINGLY exhausting. I was tired, unsettled, still living amongst boxes and not entirely sure we’d done the right thing by moving 200 miles from Berkshire to South Devon.  Continue reading »