Life lessons...

All that time he was working away, he really would have rather been at home more.

I would do pretty much anything to preserve my children's happiness.

Getting a puppy was one of the best decisions I ever made.

Natalie Portman in Teen Vogue

I can feed our family of four, good square meals that don't cost much, with enough careful planning and clever shopping.

My hair is really going grey and I really don't like it.

The pangs I get when I miss my oldest and dearest friends are common to us all; life got busy and we got less time together. It's a sad fact.

I do care what others think of me.

It's OK that I  spend a lot of time thinking about my outfits.

Christy Turlington

That time I first felt a wave of pain in my jaw, I so should have seen a Physiotherapist and not a dentist. Or a doctor. Or a consultant.

A strong marriage is one where you are not both competing to be the one working the hardest. It's not a contest.

via foxontherunbride

I have too heavy a reliance on earl grey tea.

There is only so much housework I can do; there is more to life than laundry.

I heart the 1980's in the way my parents hearted the 1960's.

Ohhhh Rob Lowe...80's heart throb

Relinquishing control of my influence over my child's future is exceptionally hard. (As in: I can't sit the exam for her)

In order to be truly physically fit, to the extent that you are your optimum weight and are thoroughly toned, requires daily training. Three times a week actually doesn't do it...unbelievable, but true.

In most matters, what goes around comes around.

Good writing still has the capacity to take my breath away; just like it did when I was 13 and started studying literature.

It really was a mistake to get rid of that fur-collared, wool coat I had at University. Same goes for that perfect pleated skirt that formed my burgeoning 'work wardrobe'. Not to mention that vintage red Mulberry clutch. Ditto those perfectly faded Levi 501s.

Tell me...what is your latest life lesson?

Guest post by Fleur: Constant Change

Lou has kindly asked me...her S.I.L (sister-in-law for those of you who don't know me) to guest blog today whilst she takes a well deserved rest in the sunshine with hubby and the Boos.

So one year on....with a plus 1! (no I am not talking about my dress size). 

Mr Smidge - our baby boy is now 6 months old. A gorgeous boy....and oh how life has changed.  

Sleep, what's that? Grey hair.....aaah I now know what that is! Hard work...I have always been up for a challenge but this one being out of choice is well worth it!!  This weekend I am off to a good friend's wedding and I have been asked to do a biblical reading.  In the days before Mr Smidge I would have relished the opportunity to do public speaking but having a child tests your confidence in so many ways.  I don't think I have been so unsure of what I am doing or started so many sentances with "why?" and answered all of them with "maybe".  It has taken me 6 months to realise with babies it isn't black and white....in fact it is a colourful rainbow of chaos.  I have learnt about acceptance.  Acceptance that there isn't answers to everything, acceptance of change, acceptance to accept help.

What hasn't changed is my love of Sex and the City re-runs, reading Vogue, Mulberry handbags, Champagne, a good gossip with my girlies and weekends away with my hubby...they just don't happen as often!  They say absence makes the heart grow fonder...but I am a want-everything-right-now-girl and a little upset that I still haven't been able to sit and finish watching the final episode in the last series of 'Brothers and Sisters'.  

Despite the constant change in my life there will always be the constant of love.  Love for my man which is just as strong as the day I met him (except when he only makes a cup of tea for himself without asking if I want one, as he has literally done just this!), love for Mr Smidge, love for family and good friends, love for living life to the fullest.  To some up from an extract from the reading I am reciting on Saturday:

"And now these three things remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love"

1 Corinthians 13

Although I am a realist as in the past year four of my friends have separated after being married less than 2 years. That's life?! My motto is never be complacent, always keep it fresh and remember perhaps the only reliable thing in life is a GU hot chocolate fondant!
(in layman's terms don't lose your sense of humour)

Let the sun shine for everyone this weekend even if only metaphorically speaking (4 years ago this weekend we got married and it literally rained cats and dogs). I have to dash now as Mr Smidge is taking an unnerving attraction to my latest Issa number...mental note - move Mumma's smart wardrobe out of the nursery!!

 

 

Words on a Wednesday...

Thank you so much for all of your empathy, kindness and advice following my last post. Wonderful to know that there are those out there who understand! Somehow it has lessened the burden knowing that. Honestly - thank you.

Photograph by Elizabeth Messina via happiness is

So what else is new?

I have never been one to hold back on the shopping front and this habit is reaching new proportions as I revel in dressing my daughter! Girl's clothes can be the stuff of dreams and I would go as far as to say most mothers who have boys will mention that they would love to be able to dress little girls. The pinkdom of it all...

via ilovegorgeous

With my daughter, suddenly she has tipped over from a little girl to a 10 year old; not a young woman by any stretch, but on her way. I am loving choosing clothes for her now. The absolute flawlessness of her (in my eyes) means that I do, I admit, get great pleasure from seeing her look comfortable in her own skin. And rightly or wrongly in our house that has something to do with nice clothes. Have I ruined her already?! I realise this is wildly superficial and children shouldn't be bothered by what they wear, but the point I am making is that she is on the verge of growing up and she is finding her style. I find this fascinating! She makes these cool little outfits which are appropriate but also fun. I think it's just lovely. If ever I wanted a mini me; I got one.

via dreamy whites

I have thought a bit recently about why people choose to have lots and lots of children. You know those families where there are three or four siblings all bustling along together at the school drop off like baby ducks following their mother? I find myself wondering what that would be like, although I know for sure I don't want more children. I have huge admiration for any family where the children outnumber the parents. And there must be something incredible about having lots of brothers and sisters; of that feeling of solidarity and unity. I am one of two and I have two children. It's all even for me. I am also fascinated by those mother ducks who have a gaggle of beautiful, tousled blonde children and look amazing and have tidy houses. Oops there I go again comparing myself...female angst at it's best.

via a lady's findings from dream spun kids

I have been running this morning. I find that I want to run the most when I think of it, usually late at night, with a little fission of excitement at the prospect of running the next morning. Then the morning arrives and I am less keen..but the schedule dictates. During the event, hmmm there are definitely moments when I wish I was not there. But after - when those endorphins kick in and my muscles feel tightened, then it's all good.

I went to a parent's talk yesterday at my kid's school, on Internet safety. It was given by the Police and seriously it was an eye-opener. Given that social media sites are kinda my thing, there wasn't anything technically that I didn't know. But what shocked me was the way in which young children, when online (facebook accounts at 10 - eh? no thanks) are so vulnerable. The point most laboured was this: do not share personal information. Of course the fact that I have a blog sent a shiver of worry through me. Am I putting my family in danger by sharing? Ugh...does not bear thinking about. Why is it that something I love could become something so ugly when looked at through different eyes?

'you can't wrap them in cotton wool...' via here from Southern Weddings Magazine

I am being everything to everyone this week, with far too many social engagements and events and work things happening....when does that down time I said I needed start?!

I've been thinking...

I had one of those weekends where there was nothing too pressing or pressurised taking place. We drifted from Friday to Sunday, the days punctuated by family activities like swimming, food shopping, a horse-riding lesson, film watching.

Certain things struck me along the way - for once, my mind free to wander. Firstly how I manage to totally forget about my work come Saturday morning. Is this because I have, over the years, trained myself to zone it out? Or does it indicate that work carries that little importance? When I have a weekend when everyone is exactly where they are meant to be (ie at home), it's the meander of family time that I concentrate on and work becomes a distant second.

I kept half an eye on the London Fashion Week shenanigans and I wondered - how have I never paid any attention to this spectacle before? Did it have less importance or is it now that my world has opened up? There is simply so much input available; a constant stream of images and thoughts via so many different sources.

On a morning run I found myself pondering how it is that Olivia Palermo can brave the winter climes of London with bare legs! Did she not get the memo that said 'It's February!' The degree of winter sun and/or grooming required to get legs looking that way in the middle of the coldest months is mind-boggling! To me bare legs in winter is a bit like wearing sequins in the daytime; it would normally be a faux-pas. Yet our Olivia pulls it off.

Sunday beef and Yorkshire puddings and a visit from the new baby in the family. He slept and slept and we all wondered how he could sleep quite that much (all inwardly deducing that this would mean he would be up all night). All of the memories of that fog of motherhood came back to us - even Boo who can recall holding her little brother when he arrived nearly 6 years ago. But to see a new, fresh little formed family was heart-warming and special.

And so to a new week, it's half term so no school. Time for country walks, which are my answer to every moment of boredom in school holidays. Failing that, the beach. Blowing away the cobwebs in some February chill - with not a bare leg in sight!

Baby day...

I am an Auntie again! My latest nephew (I now have three nephews and two nieces) was born late last night. I am so proud of my lovely sister in law who is literally like the little sister I never had. A baby boy to start their family tree. Wonderful, wonderful news.

Over these past weeks as her pregnancy has progressed I have found myself thinking back almost 10 years to the time when I had Boo; my first born. It's with mixed feelings that I remember this time, as although of course we were overjoyed to have our baby, her coming did change me - and us - forever. I was on cloud nine when she arrived, but then, for a short time after, the rain come down and it took me a while to get myself back afterwards. Now as a bystander to another family growing, I find myself conflicted; half wishing I could have my time again and to re-write it with the life experience I have gained now. I was too young then, too unsure and with simply not enough life experience to see through the fog of those early newborn weeks and months. But equally I look back and see how much I learned from those times and how much clarity I have found from having children.

via are so happy

I am right where I want to be and for all the challenging, sleepless times of looking after a young baby, I am now replete with my family. My children are and will always be the single most important, most inventive, most vital thing I ever did - we ever did. I entered the room of motherhood and closed the door and whilst over the years there have been times when I have peeked back through that door to my life before...my main direction of view has been forwards into this ever-expanding room of motherhood, where daily there are experiences and visions of experiences that confirm; I am in the right place.

And just for good measure, a favourite scene that never leaves a dry eye...from 'She's having a baby'.

My weekend...

The best thing to do when feeling 'grr' on a Friday night is to go out for curry. This family tradition has been with us for years; the defining end of the week treat. Curry is that institution that all Brits seem to hold dear; the local curry house, antiquated with decor from thirty years ago. I am not sure you will be able to picture the scene unless you've witnessed the British reality but here goes: dark, velvet clad booths, patterned plates, paper napkin origami. Rice and curry, bhajis and side orders like 'Sag Aloo'. Faint whiff of coriander. Dishes everywhere filled with sulphur turmeric-infused delights. Our local curry house has provided us with Friday-night-curry for more years than I care to remember. What did I say about being steeped in the past?! And best of all, the kids love it too. It did the trick, the 'grr' lifted and we re-set the happy balance.

via pretty stuff

Saturday, saw a house de-clutter epiphany for me - a combination of over-flowing cupboards and drawers in my house and a stern discussion (= row) with my husband about why clutter bothers me so much sent me off with resolution. I spent the day clearing out, getting rid, making those choices of 'if you haven't used it for a year, you never will'. Plus rather cathartically for me I finally choose to part with most of the baby/toddler stuff still hanging around; rogue baby bottles, bibs, just-in-case plastic bowls, dried up old play dough...all those items that I have realised my children have grown out of. I am almost ashamed to admit, it felt so good!

...love this...dream of cupboards like this...

Sunday, Boo and I went to the Marina and I ran while she rode her scooter alongside me. One of those moments where I appreciate how much I can do now that my children are a bit older. I know the childhood moments are fleeting and soon they will be all grown up and will be nest-flying. But for now it feels wonderful that we have this gift of an opportunity to spend time doing cool stuff. As she scooted, she read out the names of the boats we passed... 'Lucy Louise', 'The Dreamer' 'Nantucket', 'Time Flies'...how prophetic those boat names seem...

Preparations and planning...

I would like to bring you beautiful pictures of Christmas cheer and stories of my wonderful relaxed build-up to the festive period. However today has not quite fit that mould! Crazy-busy at work, big scary presentation (what is it with presenting that no matter how many times I do it, it still instills fear in me? Public speaking; you are either a natural or you are not). I so wanted to get everything done for Christmas this week, I'm writing a list and checking it twice (make that fifteen times). I feel distinctly out of control...

by Anne Taintor

I think back to those carefree days of the past where Christmas meant catching up with all of your old school friends when they were home to their families for the holidays. Mulled wine and late night shopping.  Family time and enjoying it all. No pressure. Now, with my own children there is a subtle pressure to make it all just right. To form those memories just like those I cherish from my childhood. Memories which came from my wonderful Mum's sheer hard work and determination to make family Christmases special, despite little things like divorce.

So I am trying to keep my Christmas cheer, to be nourished by this special time of year. To recall the true message.  To be neighbourly. To chill...OK so just one more lovely, restful image to help me on my way ;-)

Wednesday...

Some weeks I find I am ready to blog, have something to say and share. My few friends who know I blog say to me, if I miss a day or two, 'where's the new post? I visited twice and there was nothing new!'. So I feel this gentle and quite nice pressure to keep on top of it. Anyway, today - I have nothing prepared, not ready, a whole lot of other things going on. So, here's what's happening with me.

via from me to you

 It's my husband 40th birthday today (thank you for the Mr Lou/Mr Boo wishes; love that). As he is not working at the moment, we have a lunch date later.

I plan to look just like this ;-)

Tomorrow night we are going to one of our favourite ever places, West Stoke House for a celebratory party with the best of friends and family. Tragically it's closing in November so it will be out last chance...we have had so many happy times there; birthdays and anniversaries. The house is linked to the Goodwood Estate which is where we got married, so it's very special. Can't wait...to don a dress and toast my hub and have a srumptious Michelin-starred dinner and fall into a divine Eygptian cotton bed afterwards...

Extended family...

I am lucky in the in-law department. My husband is the eldest of three; he has a sister and a brother. Both of his siblings have married. His sister, who is uncannily and exactly a female version of my husband, married a guy who is just the most upstanding chap you could hope to meet. He is honourable and decent, ever-so-slightly anal (ex-army), charming, hospitable, no-nonsense. The kind of guy you'd turn to in a crisis and he would sooo be there to sort it out.

My husband's brother (the youngest of them all) married N, who is just the sweetest, quirkiest girl I could have hoped to be related to. She is like the sister I never had. We still live in the same town and of course she is a few years younger than me and I feel like we have this connection. Sometimes it feels like I am trail-blazing ahead and she is there, a newer version of the bride I was, observing and learning from my life experiences. Noting my mistakes, helping me through them, and celebrating my triumphs. I look at my kids and think how lucky they are to have Aunties and Uncles like this, not to mention cousins who are slowly but surely joining this extended family unit.

In a way, it's strange that through your marriage and that of your husband or wife's siblings you become inextricably linked to these others who then knit into Christmases and birthdays and Sunday lunches and holidays, and weekends away. Not to mention trips to Las Vegas to witness wedding nuptuals...

I feel very lucky that in my extended family there is this contingent of friends, who I just also happen to be related to. The shared history we all have provides much entertainment, so when we had dinner, all six of us on Saturday night, I literally laughed until my sides ached... :-)

Lucky indeed...

Things left unsaid...

Three years ago this week my stepmother died of cancer. She was just 55 years old. My parents split up when I was seven or eight and my Dad, after a torturous time for everyone concerned, decided to leave for this 'other woman'. He was an airline pilot and she was an air hostess. Shortly after he left, I was taken up to London to meet his new 'friend'. I recall standing in Victoria station and seeing this young, long haired, blonde lady walking towards us. She looked just like Farrah Fawcett with these bouncing waves in her hair. She must have been younger than the age I am now.

And so it was, I would spend one weekend a month staying with my Dad and C. She never tried to be a mother to me, we were friends I suppose, all along, but never that close really. Years passed and they moved to different countries because of his flying, so I would visit them in Italy and Holland and then later they settled for their retirement in Spain.

When she got ill it all happened very quickly, after being diagnosed with bowel cancer, she died two weeks later. You know how you always have that sense that you would never want a member of close family or a good friend to pass without making sure everything that needed to be said was said? Well in her case, as far as she and I were concerned, nothing was said. By the time I got to Spain she was so ill that I barely saw her. She was so drugged that I could never have unburdened myself with all the things that were unsaid.

She was a good, good woman. Even though for years I felt she was the 'other woman'; I never told her that actually I did love her or that as a stepmother she balanced that subtle art of being there but not being too much. She was gentle and honest and empathetic. At the end of the day, my Dad and she were together for longer than my parents were - if that makes sense. The point being that they clearly loved each other very much, despite their start in love being so harrowing for others.

As they always lived far away, I sometimes still reel to think that she's gone, as in reality her death didn't affect my day to day life. My children don't really remember her now and I have so few pictures of her as I never wanted my Mum to stumble across any...I never wanted to re-open any old wounds.

But all in all I feel I never really did her justice. I never acknowledged how very hard it must have been for her to slot into the lives of two children (my brother and I) who belonged to the man she was with. If I could go back, I would, just to say...sorry for not saying what should have been said.

Farrah Fawcett

Him. And Me. And them. Us.

My husband (Mr Lou as he has been named) and I have been together since I was 18 years old and he was 22. He and I grew up on the same street; he lived at number 4 and I lived at number 5. We have been married for over ten years now, together for eighteen. I have so few adult memories that he was not a part of. We got together the first term I spent at University. But he lived in our home town and I travelled back and forth and we did the long distance thing for a few years.

A best friend, L, who was my bridesmaid and who has known us both since our first unplanned date told me to read back on this post about our two children, a girl and a boy and their characteristics. It was to see how much it actually described my husband and I.

I wrote this without any thought - it's what struck me first when I thought him and me:

Him

Sturdy build, dependable, strong.
Smells like freshly washed cotton.
At a party, always always the last to go home.
The first to invite everyone and anyone back to our house - Mr Hospitality.
Spontaneous.
Fit, muscular, did I mention strong?
Charming, funny, sharp-witted.
Outrageous - I worry who gets seated next to him at dinner parties, as he offends!
Honest.
Full of integrity.
Fearless.
Confident.
Responsible (most of the time!).
Messy, mucky.
Sport-watcher, sport-player, all things sport.

Me

Gangly, long-limbed.
Smells like Diptique Fig perfume.
Early to bed. Bed lover.
Obsessive planner.
Dry wit.
Big on etiquette.
Erudite, intellectual, well-read.
Sentimental, nostalgic.
Tidy.
Glass is half empty.
Stalwart friend.
Deep and meaningful.
Worrier.
Shopper.
Trashy TV watcher.

I thought, surely not, I am sure it does not bear a close resemblance. Does the apple really fall that far from the tree? Have we created two new 'mini-me's'? And for us, do opposites always attract?!

1950's family frolicks...

House wifery...

A bit like touch-typing...I never realised how important house wifery was going to be in life. In some pseudo-feminist haze, I drifted along thinking I would never need to type like a secretary or keep house like I was from the 1950's. Now I find, email is everything and working for a multinational corporation, the faster you type, the better. Life moves pretty fast, you've got to be able to keep up. Likewise on the home front, the long lost skills of proper house wifery really do seem to be the answer to happiness!

As recently confessed, I only learned to cook in my 30s. But I have always liked things tidy at home. Pre-children this involved lazy Saturday mornings, pottering around, tidying our little flat or town house; really more styling than cleaning. Now with my messy brood, our house can go from spotless to bomb-has-hit in about ten minutes - trust me, I have timed it. I spend ridiculous amounts of time tidying up, organising, sorting, folding, piling, wiping; it goes on and on. I realise now that being a good house wife is the key to a harmonious life. There seems to be unrefutable evidence that if things are organised, life runs smoothly. List after list of 'to do's' get ticked off, the children have what they need, homework completed, meals planned, food is not wasted, admin gets done, bills paid and invites RSVP'ed. Husband drops in and out in the working week like a satellite and all is an oasis of calm.

I am all for being the retro Cath Kidston aproned Mummy, baking cupcakes in the Aga (actually we have a Rayburn; it's the 'poor man's' Aga!). Revelling in my cabbage rose adorned, kitchen-is-the-heart-of-the-home lifestyle. Come to my farmhouse and it looks just like that, maybe minus the cupcakes...

But finding that balance of house wifery with the reality of 2010 life is a challenge. One that I try day after day to rise to. And I still type using three fingers and a misguided thumb...ummm, time for a cuppa tea?

Families...

If you want children...I always think your family will shape up how its meant to; it's fate. By this I mean whether you have boys or girls, summer babies or winter babies, close together or years apart, an only child, no children and much-loved dogs or cats. Every family has its own story; some families come effortlessly, others after painful waiting and enormous effort. When I see families with say, three or four little girls, I do wonder how lovely that must be, all frothy, girly pink, ballet bags, ribbons and long hair.

Then I see families with all boys and its outdoorsy, muddy, all sport kit and scuffed walls and that happy 'boys will be be boys' feeling.

I see families with lots of children - like four or five. To me the prospect of looking after four children is, honestly, frightening. I simply can't imagine it; I think in the way that before you have kids, you can't quite imagine what life would be like with kids. I have huge admiration for big families and an envy. To have brothers and sisters, older and younger (I have one older brother). I can see how wonderful it must be to grow up with lots of siblings, all looking out for each other (and jostling for attention).

For our little family, we have one of each. A boy and a girl; so its neither all pink nor all blue. Brother and sister. We are out of the baby stage now and can see what life looks like on the other side. I do feel at peace now.

For those who struggle to fall pregnant, I always think it's the hardest part. When you long for a baby, time is the enemy - every month that passes is an endurance, like one big missed opportunity, but on repeat. Time stretches out and I sometimes wish I could say to those prospective mothers - it's OK, this is how fate will have it for you. Your family will shape up in the way its meant to and if that means a long wait for your first, so be it. Or a big age-gap with your second, so be it. Just one child or three. And for some maybe a fourth...

I know though that in reality these words don't mean much...as nothing can take away that ache. But for friends who go through this, I do so wish the ache would go away and fate would play its part...

Holiday lust...

It has suddenly all become too much in our household - everyone's a little tired, ill and weary (I count myself, my husband, Boo and the cat in this; Boo 2 is absolutely full of beans). I am starting to think alot (umm, as in all the time) about our next family holiday. We are going to Portugal in the summer; our annual pilgrimage to the Algarve, the southern-most part, for some time in the sun. I have such fondness for this place, having been time after time, both without children and with. Its quite rustic, full of locals, not much to do...

At present, without the prospect of a holiday, we would be starting to unravel, not unlike a ball of string...

I need to get on a beach, feel the hot sand on my toes, take a dip in the Atlantic...

Sit and watch the fishing boats come in, a cold beer in hand, with that scrubbed, been-in-the-heat feeling you get after a day at the beach...

Enjoy simple pleasures...Boo 2 trying to escape the laws of gravity and put a hat full of water on his head...endless fun...

Collecting shells...

To just look out to sea, empty our minds of the day-to-day...

Sunny afternoons strolling around little towns...

One year we left the children with grandparents and went to Lisbon, the capital city and stayed in this magnificent palace. This was our view, I love how the sun is setting ready for a night in a balmy city, cobbled streets, dinner out, glasses of wine...

Eating ice cream whenever as 'holiday rules' apply...this is my husband's invention of applying absolutely no parental logic and reason for the entire time...anything goes...

 Wearing floppy hats...like this one from Plumo...

Bare shoulders...oh roll on holiday!