"Mummy I don't like you. Daddy is my favourite."

Drawing Daddy 

I'm so sorry I'm just no good at the fun stuff. I seem to be the one who's always saying, "be careful" and "don't climb on the sofa" or "well I did tell you not to stand on that didn't I ?" The only reason I can give you is that it is what my parents did and I can see now that it was because they were so afraid all the time. The difference is that you have me (not fun) and Daddy (fun) so your life is not solely about being surrounded by fear and discipline.

I know son. I realise that I'm not your favourite. It's been sunny all weekend - an oasis of warmth in a wet and miserable Summer (so far) - and I tried to tempt you off the sofa where you were watching Firehouse Dog for, I don't know, the 60th time ? You know, Firehouse Dog, the movie I recorded for you because I thought you'd enjoy it. I was wrong of course. You're obsessed with it. 

It is true I'm not the fun one. Daddy is the one who is good at the fun stuff. He will play with cars and run around the garden or the park and he takes you to football. I feel so guilty and I wish I was more fun, but it doesn't come naturally to me.

Daddy loves to take you to the park whereas I'm looking at my watch and finding excuses to move on and do something else the whole time. Actually I'm watching your scooter as I'm so convinced that some random stranger will come and steal it. I have no evidence on which to base this suspicion, but I do it anyway.

When you go to football I pack you off with healthy snacks and a water bottle for half time and when you get back you tell me you've had a Kitkat and biscuits in the boardroom. Of course there was the time that he forgot to take your shoes and a hat so Daddy had to go to the supermarket next to the ground and buy emergency plimsolls and a baseball cap. 

When we all go swimming Daddy splashes around with you in the kid's pool and you both pour water into boats, race ducks and throw a ball if the nice lifeguard is there. I swim up and down the lanes of the big pool as I don't like being splashed. Mind you the fact that you have a towel and a snack afterwards is my doing and there was that one time that Daddy left your costume behind in the changing room and this weekend he forgot your shower gel.

I've always taken you out and about to activities and you've met Peppa Pig, Thomas and the Fat Controller and had a tea party with Mickey and Minnie Mouse. It's just not my thing to get involved in toddler activities. While Daddy will run around with you at Totstars football I'm complaining about my dodgy knees and looking for the tea trolley. 

I'm not entirely useless though. This stuff doesn't matter to you, but here's what Mummy is good at:

• Before you go to bed I like to have some special time just you and me where we talk about your day. About what has been good and what wasn't so good. It's a space for you to share your feelings and for me to help you make sense of things that might be difficult to understand. 

• When you're asleep I come into your room and kiss you and move the toy cars on your pillow so that you don't roll onto them in the night and hurt yourself.

• If you say you like something I listen. It's important to me that I know you love Big Ben, windmills, Minis, fans, Spider-Man, buses and - at the moment - dogs.

• I don't buy things for myself, I only shop for you. On the rare occasions I do get something for myself I end up taking it back so I can get something for you instead. 

• Any conversation I have becomes about you. It's terribly boring for everyone else, but you know how you're obsessed with Firehouse Dog ? That's how I am about you. Even on days when we aren't getting along you still make me smile and I am proud of what a bright and funny boy you are. 

• When I get it wrong - which seems to be often - I say sorry. It is important that you feel heard and respected and I want you to grow up to be a man with integrity. As far as I'm concerned that means I have to lead by example. 

• I tell you I love you many times a day. I know you don't get why this is important, but you are kind enough to say it back and that makes my day. I hope that you will grow to realise how special it is when someone you care about tells you they love you. My parents never did, so I tell you every day. A lot. 

Lastly, I write about you and our adventures in this blog. I hope that when you're older you will read it with some pride. That it will remind you of things we did and times we shared that you can look back on and smile about.  

I know I'm not the fun one, but I did teach you the words to "I Fought the Law" by The Clash. That has to be worth something ? 

I was fashionable in the 80s - no really I was

I used to consider myself fashionable. Admittedly this was back in the eighties when it was ok to wear baggy trousers and oversized tops in bright colours, Converse baseball boots, bright make up
and... hang on, hold the phone, it would appear all of this is now back in fashion !!

Yes, those clothes I adored that my much younger sisters teased me about so mercilessly until eventually I gave them all away are not only back in, but actually the height of fashion !?!?!? "Whachoo talkin' about Willis ?"

Matching shoes

Well I think it is fair to say I'm not the age or shape to wear those clothes any more - not least as I stood next to a young woman on the tram the other day who had a wedge hairstyle, peg trousers, chain loafers and pink shimmer lipstick (cannot confirm if it was from Rimmel though) and I was instantly transported back to sixth form, Chelsea Girl, Miss Selfridge make up and Dolcis shoes. Ah the memories. I was the first in my school to have a yellow canvas fashion rucksack and a homemade satin puffball skirt because I'd seen both on the Clothes Show. I was Jeff Banks' biggest fan and Warehouse was the 'posh' shop on the high street from which my best work suit came. I wore it for about 20 years before I finally gave in and retired it.

Of course now I'm a lot older, I'm a Mum and most days I'm lucky if I leave the house wearing shoes that match. I wear jeans almost every day and because I swim so much I choose clothes that are easy to wear pre or post dip. I went for a coffee with a lovely fellow blogger (and proper writer) the other week and she told me that the striped top is a Mumsy cliche - almost all of my tops are striped !! I was horrified. How did I transform from that young woman obsessed with fashion to this middle-aged sitcom Mum with a full wardrobe and still nothing to wear ? I knew I needed a revamp. And I knew I'd have to go and see a professional. So, I made an appointment for a personal styling session at Peter Jones in Sloane Square. It's the poshest John Lewis store I know and it's where we had our wedding list so I know it pretty well. I've never bought clothes there though.

My appointment was with Yvonne and she started by bringing me a lovely pot of tea and we had a little chat about the colours I like and the event I wanted to dress for. I told her I had a public speaking event I wanted to look nice for - I'll be reading one of my posts out at Britmums Live and who needs any excuse to dress up ? Lovely Yvonne went off with a clothes rail to choose some frocks and I sat and made use of the free wifi.

So many pretty frocks to try on 

The rail she came back with was loaded with amazing dresses and some matching jackets from ranges I've never shopped from before. She also brought me some lovely shoes to try on with the dresses. I only ever wear fit flops or boots so it was a bit of a trial putting on clothes and heels all at once, but hey what's life without a bit of a challenge eh ?

Yvonne told me I am different sizes on the top and bottom with narrow hips so I can wear a smaller size on my bottom half. This explains why I'm forever pulling my jeans up as I always buy the same size in everything regardless of how big it is and I never try on jeans in shops as it's just too demoralising. I was amazed how some of the fitted dresses really made me look shapely and she explained that my waist is my best feature - what ? are you serious lady ?

Beautiful and flattering

So, I whittled the selection down to three dresses that I absolutely love and as I've just had my birthday that was pretty poor timing really. They are completely different from my usual choice of clothing and I'm not sure I'd actually wear them often enough to justify the price tag, but how lovely to know that I can look that fab at my matronly stage of life.

I took off the high heels and gave them back to Yvonne. As I put my daggy boots back on I thanked her for her time and went back out into rainy Sloane Square.

I'm no fashionista, but man it's nice to pretend for a couple of hours.

wolf whistle time :)

Britmums Live, I'm coming to get ya !!!

Immediately after Britmums Live last year I did two things (ok if you count raiding the enormous goodie bag we got then I did three, but I digress as usual) Firstly, I wrote a blog post about the two day conference and how much fun I had and then I went online and booked a ticket for this year. I decided then and there that it had to be a staple part of my blog life to attend so I can categorically state that I will be going to Britmums Live in two weeks - YAY !!!

My souvenir from last year

The first conference I went to I was a newbie so it was just all so overwhelming to me. I panicked about what to wear, what to bring and if I'd have anyone to talk to. It was all fine and I came back armed with a head spinning with ideas about self-hosting, frequency of posting, social media presence and basically it ramped up my blogging life from snail's pace to the speed of a family cat - not mine, he's practically immobile most days.

Now when I attend a conference I try to focus on one thing instead of taking a scattergun approach to which sessions to attend.  The last conference I went to I was thinking about what I need to do to raise the profile of my blog and my writing generally and the sessions I went to all supported this aim. On the train home I made pages of notes with actions that I'm still working my way through.

Ooh snazzy !! 

I haven't decided what my theme is for Britmums this year as there are so many brilliant sessions planned, but it will probably be photography and how my blog looks. I love taking photos and have just started making videos so I'd like to learn more about how to do this better. I'll be bringing an iPad mini with me to make notes, record important information and to take pics of other peoples' fab outfits. Talking of which...

No more sartorial panic for me this year. I booked a personal styling session with John Lewis at the swanky Peter Jones store in Sloane Square so I don't look as baggy and 'Mumsy' as I did last year. I got some great ideas and a wish list of frocks I cannot afford, but it also gave me a bit of a boost to try on clothes that I wouldn't feel confident wearing usually. The lovely Yvonne brought me some proper classy frocks to try on and I even looked slim in some of them !! I will need persuading to move away from my original plans of what to wear though. My idea was to wear a Debbie Harry photo print dress on Friday because it's baggy and sort of ok for the evening do and a Ramones t-shirt and slim fit jeans on the Saturday as it's casual and funky and me and Sonya Cisco can be Indie/Punk matrons together :)

This is the first year I've really thought about sponsorship and have been lucky enough to agree a sponsorship with an amazing company that works with pre-school children. Totstars run sports classes for pre-schoolers including, football, tennis and basketball with coaches who are fun, enthusiastic and great with children of all levels from shy to outgoing. My boy loves them and started at 20 months. He's grown so much and being in classes helped develop his confidence, his language and - of course - his hand eye co-ordination and ball skills. I'm delighted to represent a brand that has great values promoting positive actions, activity, healthy eating and having fun. I'll be writing about Totstars in a specific post, but for now I'd like to thank Coach Thuli :)

Stop Press: I've been invited to be a keynote speaker - eek !! I've done a lot of public speaking before, but never to peers like this and certainly not to a room of women who I feel like I know really well. If it's anything like last year it's also going to be filmed and streamed so my boy and Hubbie can watch it - hopefully live. Gulp !! I'd better wear something nice.

Oh no it's the Gruffalo !! (trail at Bolderwood)

Our annual 'family staycation' started on the Thursday as Hubbie had taken a day off so that we could start our long weekend early. It began brilliantly with all three of us in the kitchen rocking out to the Prodigy - Firestarter. A sign that our son has inherited his parents' unfailing love of music and inappropriate dancing all at the same time.

Puddle jumping 

Exploring the forest

As usual the plan was to stay with the in-laws who live near the New Forest. We often see ponies, cows, sheep and even pigs when we're down there and now the boy is getting older we're hoping to treat him to more forest-related fun. To introduce him used to the great outdoors we've taken him to the woods near our house before now as he loves tromping around in wellies and - of course - jumping in muddy puddles.

Oh no it's the Gruffalo !

This year it's the 15th anniversary of the Gruffalo so there are a lot of activities being organised to celebrate and one of these is the Gruffalo trail that we took him to at the weekend. Like many kids our boy enjoyed then fell in love with then became obsessed with the Gruffalo. He has the books, the ones with the sound buttons, an advent calendar and a chocolate figurine as well as his last birthday party having a Gruffalo table cloth and some Gruffalo themed snacks - I did draw the line at crumble, but it will happen I'm sure !

Off he goes...

So, after a bit of a drive to get to Bolderwood in Hampshire we found the start of the Gruffalo trail. We had hoped that the boy would be excited about this, but he mithered and moaned about it. We did it anyway. You see he loves being outside and he loves the Gruffalo so I figured that the two would be a winning combination.

With Grandma

Checking the activities

As it was there was plenty to keep us all busy. Our boy enjoyed the change of terrain under foot from soft and earthy, to a bit tougher and twiggy then - his favourite - wet and puddly. Hubbie found a small stream and played pooh sticks with the boy. He seemed to really enjoy this so it's game we will definitely play again.

Grandma spotted the best - and weirdest - thing of all. This 'animal' foraging in the tree roots is actually a tree root !! I admit I find it quite creepy to look at, but it really is quite amazing.

Is it an animal ? Nope it's a tree root.

The trail was fun with some great activities involving collecting, counting, drawing and using all the senses in addition to experiencing some great forest to walk through. Towards the end our boy enjoyed hiding behind trees and us trying to find him. It helps that he's only just a metre tall I guess. The final challenge was the cattle grid to get back to the car park which both the boy and Grandma negotiated with some grace.

Hide and seek 

Careful...

At the end he was given a sticker and some lovely colouring sheets to take home - it's amazing how much a sticker will cheer up even the most miserable threenager.

This weekend we're going to take part in the big picnic to celebrate the Gruffalo's anniversary and we're hoping to spot one of the wooden sculptures of him that we've heard so much about. Fingers crossed for nice weather and me not forgetting to pack mine and Hubbie's wellies :)

This post is part of the fab and fun #countrykids linky from the lovely Fiona at Coombe Mill

We love bees :) 

The cat, my boy and the missing teddy bear mystery.

Our family (including Clovey)

My chosen reading at the moment is a book called, "New Toddler Taming" that was lent to me by a friend of mine who has two boys. It has been a difficult time with our threenager and he's been pushing mine and Hubbie's patience to the very limit. It has made us both feel so tired and sad and disappointed. It feels like we just have no clue how to deal with this seething mass of shouting, kicking, screaming energy and it's demoralising.

Then I look at him right now lying on his front drawing a picture of Big Ben wearing clothes he chose and put on himself - yes they do match. He comes over to show me he's also drawn a picture, "Of me and Daddy and Mummy and my sister Clovey." Then he draws another small face, "That's my baby brother." Our boy is an only child, so maybe it's more aspirational than factual. He knows that we would love for him to have a sibling so it's reassuring to know that he's keen on the idea of being an older brother.

I often reflect on the early days when he was so new and shiny and it was exciting being exhausted, overwhelmed new parents. When he was so tiny he'd lie between us in the bed and I'd hold my breath so I would be able to hear the snuffles that confirmed he was breathing and alive. Carrying my baby son in a sling and being able to kiss the top of his head while strap hanging on a bus or walking to an appointment for a check up with the doctor. Being so scared of every little thing that might go wrong and realising that this would be the emotion I'd feel the rest of my life.

In order to keep a sense of perspective I try and reflect on the positive things that bring a smile to my face. The things that remind me how proud I am of my boy and how blessed I feel that he is in my life.

• The other morning me and Hubbie were dancing in the kitchen to the Prodigy, Firestarter. The boy walked in, looked at us for a moment then joined in with the mayhem. That's my boy !

• He's obsessed with a movie called Firehouse Dog that we've watched so many times I think I spend more time with Bruce Greenwood (the Dad) than with Hubbie.

My little pony

• On the Bank Holiday it was so wet and miserable outside we stayed indoors mainlining movies. Carry on a Cabby was on and our boy enjoyed watching it with us - I have no explanation for why he was dressed in a pink pony outfit. 

• We took him to Peppa Pig world last week and there was torrential rain, thunder, lightning in the morning followed by an afternoon of blazing sunshine, no queues and ice cream for the boys. I asked him what the best thing about the day was. After some thought he said, "the eggy bread you made me for breakfast Mummy."

Look no queuing !!

• This morning he asked if I'd seen his teddy bear Jiggles. We both searched upstairs and couldn't find him. I jokingly asked the cat if he knew anything and he miaowed. I told the boy that clearly Neo was telling us where the bear was and to follow him. I heard a loud squeal as the boy found his bear exactly where the cat was standing - at the bottom of the stairs. I swear those two are pulling tricks on me !

So, as we go into another weekend I am armed with tips and hints from the book and a heart full of hope that this one will be better than the last one was.

I find it's a good life rule to give the last word to Calvin and Hobbes.

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My heart is broken. But still, like air, I'll rise.

I have a blog because I love to write. It is my space to share thoughts, ideas, stories and sometimes a little bit of myself. Our house is littered with my many notebooks and our walls are covered with shelves filled to capacity with books. I keep pens to hand everywhere, in pockets, old mugs, on every windowsill and in empty jars and occasionally actual pen pots. I never throw out paper. It is used for drawing, or shopping lists or ideas that have suddenly come to me while I was chopping veg - yes this does happen.

I always loved writing and would find any excuse to write when I was at school and I collected books that I would buy for a few pence at jumble sales or school fayres. My bookshelf at home was small, but filled with precious jewels that spoke to me and only me and took me to places I had never heard of and could only imagine. I read anything and everything and would read books so quickly that the school reading scheme ran out and I was sent to the library to find books to read instead. I read all of them too and for a while my favourite books were a big book with photos of minerals and crystals in it and another called Mathemagic which is now out of print. Yes for a while back there I was interested in science and maths. I know Hubbie is open-mouthed at this last fact so let's just wait for him to get up off the floor shall we ?

The books I read were the usual ones by Roald Dahl, Enid Blyton, C.S. Lewis, the Heidi stories, and anything that was a series of books appealed the most as it didn't have to end. What the school library of James Wolfe Junior School did not have was any books by black authors - or at least none I knew of. It wasn't until I went to secondary school that I finally read Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry which was a darker story than I was used to reading and led me to find I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. From the first time I read a Maya Angelou book I knew I loved her. The writing was fluid and even though I hadn't heard her speak, in my head I could imagine the voice she was reading to me in. When I did hear her voice years later it was richer and far more beautiful that I could ever have known.

When I finished reading her first book I re-read it and then I read the next one and then the next one and so on until there were no more left. I had to know this woman, dammit I had to be her. Vibrant, brave, clever, capable of anything, so very beautiful and she was black and from a poor family. It was the first time I'd seen a woman who was so accomplished and made me think it might be possible for me to do it too. It made me realise it was ok to write about real life and to be honest about myself and that didn't make me a bad person.

I always promised myself I'd see her perform live and I even looked into studying in America at the university where she was a professor so I would meet her. It was a dream I was unable to fulfil and now she has passed away it won't happen. I listen to her voice and see her kindly face and it's like I actually know her. As though she is behind my hand when I write something honest, painful, raw and possibly beautiful.

Her poetry empowered me, her activism inspired me, her writing spoke to me. She gave me my passion for writing and helped me to learn to love the colour of my skin. She even helped me to understand that what is done to us does not define what we become.

The news that Dr Maya Angelou has passed away has broken my heart.

It also reminds me that I write because it is my passion.

Dr Maya Angelou (4th April 1928 - 28th May 2014)

It's my birthday !!!

My boy made me a special picture

I apologise for not writing a 'proper' post today, but it's my birthday you see. Of course I realise it's completely undignified to make a big deal about it at my age - don't be cheeky, I'm not telling you. Me and Hubbie rarely get time, just the two of us, so today he took the day off. This being real life he had to go into work this evening, but we still got to spend the day doing things we like.

 A lovely surprise delivery today :)

So firstly we packed the boy off to nursery. He loves it when Hubbie is around for the nursery run, dontcha just love being the 'invisible,' less popular parent ? Then we went for a swim together. Usually one of us is keeping the boy occupied in the kiddie pool, but today we swam side by side. I'm a fairly solitary swimmer so it was a moot point, but still nice.

Then - after a bit of social media surfing (obvs) - I put on a nice dress, make-up and even heels (Hubbie nearly fainted with shock) and we went out for a nice lunch. I had a glass of wine and we chatted while the rain pattered on the windows and the staff effortlessly glided around us delivering delicious food. It was blissful :)

For me ? Oh you shouldn't have :) 

It's back to business as usual tomorrow. I'll do the nursery run and it'll be leftovers for lunch.

Just for today though, it's all about me :)