Even more down to earth with a bump (14)

continuing my journey of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK THIRTY-EIGHT

This week I’ve had no niggles whatsoever and the backache and period pain has ceased. The thrush however is still present. Persistent or what? The midwife said the conditions 'down there' are perfect for it to thrive. Have invested in a hefty probiotic tablet to try and counteract it. I hear that the probiotic is also good for preventing colic. We will see... but that would be amazing.

WEEK THIRTY-NINE

I'm almost there; approaching my due date. I'm feeling very positive. At this point in the pregnancy, I'm happy that our baby is getting to develop its lungs fully, although I'm aware that the babe is getting bigger every day. ;-(

At night time, I'm now waking up at least four times for a wee. ;-(

The baby is not engaged or even remotely low for that matter. Apparently baby number two doesn't necessarily engage - they pop in and out and up and down all the time. Come to think of it, Esme didn't engage fully either. She was very high up, when I was induced and she was forced into making her journey out of me way before she was ready. She was so poorly though. (I'd use a further sad face here but it goes against the writer in me).

WEEK FORTY

The midwife measured me and I am 44cms. SHOCK! HORROR! A whole four cm bigger than I ought to be. (If you go by the books that is). Pah! What do the books know?! However, I have galloped in size. 

They're sending me for an obsterician appointment. Not just because I'm measuring big for dates but because my urine sample has shown  up a high white cell count. Of course this indicates infection. And yes, I still have thrush. I'm actually rather worried now.

Almost due and fit to burst!

Even more down to earth with a bump (13)

continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK THIRTY-FIVE

Has been a positively lovely week. It started with a chilled out weekend and a wonderful MLD massage which gave me a real boost of energy. Lately I've felt exhausted just climbing the stairs.

I went out for a meal with some girlfriends and actually felt normal again - not pregnant. I enjoyed myself immensely. Probably haven't done enough of that, these last few weeks.

I ticked off two of the three outstanding pieces of work I'd left to write and put feelers out for the fourth. I am getting there. I suppose writing really ought to take a back seat and I should pack that hospital bag!

Esme has been both settled and happy. AND talking about the baby a lot more than usual. As if she knows it's soon. It is just as well she is being so good for me in the day – I am not sleeping well at night. My bump is cumbersome and uncomfortable. Plus I've had thrush as well this week. Sorry about that. Oh the joys of pregnancy.

Summer's arrived

So the rails are buckling at Waterloo. So the M25 is melting. So the UK has been basking in above average temperatures all week. So the heat wave is set to continue... So I am  (we are) loving it. Woo-hoo!

FRAMED

Finally here - and it smells divine!

Currently, my 1grace1faith...

Silent Sunday (5)

All talk

Wowzers - Sofia Faith (mischeivous 22mo) clearly has the chatter gene as well. 

This evening she came out with her first ever sentence - and it was seven words long: 

"Esme, lay down with me, night-night."

(Instigating pretend play sleep - My favourite game)

Esme Grace's first ever school report...

...is fine. Actually pretty good, considering she is not going to be five until the very end of August. 

I know she is a friendly, gregarious little girl. I know she has difficulty concentrating at times, and finds listening tricky. I know she loves a good chat. In fact, I know she doesn't shut up. So, this particular line cracked me up: 

Esme can skilfully hold a conversation whilst involved in a different activity.

 My little one is already a woman huh?!

We are excited about...

...the new Disney themed Aqua Ears. 

Apparently, they're perfect for little ones learning to swim. And those splashing about in the pool. 

Sounds ideal for our two little girls on their summer holiday away in a few weeks time!

Do look out for the review on the GraceFaith blog. It'll be coming just as soon as our LIFE AS IT IS allows us to test them out. Yippee... roll on Spain and Lyme Regis!

Even more down to earth with a bump (12)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK THIRTY-FOUR

I saw the Midwife for my last Anti-D jab. My urine sample and my blood pressure are both normal and it would appear that this oh so easy pregnancy continues in an oh so easy manner. 

OMG I spoke to soon. It has become clear I'm overdoing it. I am suddenly tired and the bump is far heavier. Also, not so good, I've been having cramps. Loads of them. 

I've mentioned it to my midwife; she's told me to rest. As if?! But ahem, actually by midweek this week, I finally admited to myself and my baby, that I do need to slow down. 

My cramps turned to contractions, and forget Braxton hicks, full on labour kicked in, fast and furious. Diarrhoea was the first sign. Pain was the second. Goodness. Huffing and puffing, I went straight to bed. 

Fortunately laying horizontally eventually appeared to calm things down again. However, all night I was awake with lower back pain, and the following morning heavy period pain. Honestly, I thought our babe was on its way; and it's far too soon.

Truly time to take it easy me thinks. 

N.B. Listen to your body as well as your midwife.

FRAMED

Q. When is a bar of soap not a bar of soap?

A. When you have a Fia in the house.

A first lesson in mortality for my young child

Over the last few days I've come to realise the fish episode taught Esme a great lesson in life. Her first in mortality. 

Death is a toughie for a child to comprehend. But if they have to go through it at an early age, then the passing of a goldfish is a good first time experience to help them understand the concept that not all things live in our world forever. 

I felt touched, that Esme was not only happy to have Fred the second swimming energetically about the bowl, but that she clearly felt some form of allegiance to Fred the first; for she told me that she was still a little sad about what had happened to him. 

To help with this, and at the good advice of a friend, Esme drew a picture of her and Fred the first, to keep him company under the sunflower. It gave her an understanding that his spirit lives on, even though he is in a box underneath the sunflower in the garden. 

So as twee as it may appear to be (being a fish and all), I actually think the whole experience of Fred's passing has helped my precious 4yo girl understand the concept of death. Helped her to realise that living things do come to an end. And that when that happens, their body is disposed of and their spirit lives on.

Fundamentally, it'll definitely do for now, and then, when she is older, she can make up her own mind as to heaven... hell... religion... spirituality and the such.

And introducing...

...Fred take two

Swim swim swim, forever more up in the fish place in the sky.

It was a brief service. It took all of two minutes.
The sun shone. Then it went behind a cloud. 
And then he was gone.
Under the sunflower that has yet to burst into life.
Perhaps it will very soon now?
Farewell dear Fred.
Rest in peace. 

I only hope that the neighbouring cats leave you alone.

A sad day for Fred

This morning Esme found Fred, one of our fish, trapped in the new piece of weed we put in the tank last week. She came running into the kitchen to tell me, 'Mummy, Fred is very clever. Come and see.' My heart sunk.

I went and looked, half hoping he was floating on the top - I could have dealt with that better. But the poor thing was stuck in between two bits of weed. No longer struggling to get free; clearly exhausted. 

I let him go immediately. But Fred failed to open up. Still shaped like a letter 'c' where he had managed to spend (I presume) all night curled around the fat stem. I could see it wouldn't be long. 

With no energy left to swim, he was quickly sucked toward the filter, to be stuck there too for a moment. Horrified, I turned the filter off, and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.  

Esme worked it all out for herself. Her eyes filled with tears as she fell into my lap. "My fish is dying isn't it Mummy." Shocked by her understanding (her first brush with death), I hushed her calm. It didn't last long though and when we got to school, she burst into tears again. 

The teacher took my precious little 4yo girl by the hand into teddy corner. It was the first time this entire reception year that I've left her upset. Sobbing even. I haven't been able to stop thinking about her and the 3pm pick-up can't come quick enough. All over a fish. I feel this may perhaps be another very valid reason why not to have a dog... 

So water or ground burial do u think?

LATEST FRIDGE ART

Darling I love the butterfly. Tell me, what's that underneath?
Mummy that's a fly, and it's holding a piece of string.

The here and the hereafter

THE HERE

Is she falling?

Drunk with ill.

Lifeless legs,

Keep her still.

#Prose4Thought

Today I was delighted to be included in the first ever poetry and prose round up on Britmums, alongside some other really great bloggers. Thanks to Vicky Welton for picking up on my words.

Spice things up with this sweet chilli sauce recipe

Love sweet chilli sauce? You are not alone. But how many of us actually make it from fresh? Sister Kate from Ecuador sent me this ever so easy recipe a while back. It's so good, I thought I should share it... Question is, will you be sharing yours?!

FRAMED

The garden poppies woke up!

Ahoy there mates! About that there Bounty of freebies, and a whole lot more, that you don't necessarily want... (3)

For a very well written, and unbiased view of the debate between Mumsnet & Bounty, please read here. 

Ahoy there mates! About that there Bounty of freebies, and a whole lot more, that you don't necessarily want...(2)

I had two children three years apart and each experience with the Bounty rep was negative. Sadly. Although the first was far worse. 

Ahoy there mates! About that there Bounty of freebies, and a whole lot more, that you don't necessarily want... (1)

I’m not sure why I’m bothering to write this post, as after a session on Twitter yesterday, I feel drained at the prospect. But yes, there is a Bounty Mutiny, and I am now compelled to join in. I’ll keep it brief.

Silent Sunday (4)

The sprinkler jumping championships. 

Swollen bellies and bumps (3)

It was a month before Esme's third birthday and before my baby was due. It was a scorching hot July day, the sort we rarely see. I was having a little party for Esme as I wasn't sure, if on her actual day, I might be giving birth.

Swollen bellies and bumps (2)

It was a beautiful bright red dress that had done the rounds for many a pregnant friend, and now, it was my turn. I was well into my nine months, and wearing it well.

Swollen bellies and bumps (1)

"My bump is huge. People want to touch it. People do. Why is it that complete strangers, have no qualms in placing their hands upon the swollen belly of a mum to be... when they don't even bloody well know you? Madness. My bump is so huge, perhaps they think it comes with an unspoken invite? Yet, if I turn around, you would never know I was up the duff. Look, if one more person has a feel, I may have to start walking backwards?!"

If, as a pregnant woman, you too, carried heavily, you will probably know exactly what I'm on about here... many people simply cannot resist the urge to lay their hands upon your baby bump. 

A fine example is the complete stranger in the checkout queue; usually a little old lady, who actually believes it is her God given right to touch your pregnant self. 

They nonchalantly glance at you, and then they clock your bump, and then they light up. Suddenly they're beside you, talking to you, asking all manner of frank questions; 'When are you due?', 'Is it your first?', 'How are you feeling?', (out of my comfort zone now). At the same time, they just cannot help themselves... (one hand), the gentle pat, the prod, the smooth, and (both hands), the squeeze, and sometimes, Lord help me, even the push. 

It's difficult to say get off isn't it? I would carry on as normal, perhaps trying to busy myself with the shop in the process. Only then, would they maybe sense that actually this wasn't their cargo to coo over and I wasn't a mother to smother. 

Having been reminded in the previous (pregnancy diary) post of how big my baby bump became, I've since remembered two tales that now need to be told. One involves an awkward grandpa lunge and grab, and the other involves the delightful matter of poo! See, said I had a lot of poo stories. I just have to write them down.

Even more down to earth with a bump (11)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK TWENTY-NINE

I began this week of pregnancy in a tent for two nights. Interesting! Honestly I was fine - but the day we packed the camp up, we also flew to Spain. 

Not doing things by half ever; we arrived at Alicante airport at midnight. I had a slight moment when I saw the car rental company's child seat, but decided to ignore the fact that it looked like something my mum had once strapped me in almost forty years earlier. 

I let the tension fall away once Esme fell asleep. All at once we were on the open road, and Simon and I were holding hands, heading to our apartment aware of a whole ten days of being out of reach. My idea of bliss.

Breakfast musings of a 4YO

E: If my yoghurt was puke it wouldn't taste very nice, would it?

Questioning the (inherent) art of procrastination...

Did I always procrastinate? Bloody hell yes. And I believe I became incredibly creative in doing so.

As the youngest teen child of three, also expected to help out with the dinner/dishes and other such duties, I would usually manage to have something else to do. Such as have a friend telephone at that  time.

And then, prior to homework and piano practise, I'd apply make-up. Not that I had any, but my sister did... 

Silent Sunday (3)

Musings of a 4YO

E: Mummy, shhh! Do you want to know a secret?

M: Of course. What's that then?

E: Shhh, don't tell anyone. My Granny is a pirate.

M: Does Granny know?

And they all lived happily ever after

A few weeks ago I took part in a blog hop for Emma Day. Today this post serves as a reminder that she may have been reunited with her three babies, but that she is still fighting thyroid cancer. I'm still thinking of her, as are many in the blogging sphere. 

I wrote this prose inspired by her bright spirit for as far as I can tell, with regards to how Emma has viewed living with cancer, she has only ever looked forward. This is the very thought I started with... 

FRAMED

Food from Arabia. In particular, Lebanon. 

An Arabian night - & other such silly sessions

Question is, are we all just a little bit mad? Or are we simply parents of small kids, that clearly don't get out that often?! Either way, I don't care. It's such great fun!

We have a great group of friends that we've made through having our children (see there are perks), and as the years have gone on, they've become closer. Especially since our babies all begun school together. Anyway, back in the Autumn last year, one of the couples took it upon themselves to invite the others for dinner - it was to turn into a themed evening that was to snowball into a bi-monthly event. 

Now I'll be the first to admit, that when they suggested Mexican, I oohed and aahed at the prospect of such tasty food. But when they then asked us to adopt the local costume too, I thought that a little bit strange. 

I'm NOT going to Britmums live!

But it would appear that the rest of the entire blogging community that is the writing parenthood, is.

Am I jealous? No. Envious. Yes. That's it, envious.

I didn't get my arse in gear quick enough. No. I didn't realise, until it was too late. And now, I'm all about the wishing. Which is never good.

Even more down to earth with a bump (10)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK TWENTY-SIX

Well it had to happen. And if it was going to happen? It had to happen on a Friday the 13^th.

Musings of a 4YO

E: Happy Father's day Daddy!
D: Thank you Esme.
(Daddy opens present. Esme muses).

E: Is it Mother's day next?
D: Not for a while.
(Esme muses some more).

E: Is there a little girl's day?

FRAMED

The natural beauty of the pomegranate fruit

Word gets around

A creative site for travel reviews is now up and running. And it's alive and kicking. And what's more, you can check out my latest travel words there! Picked up I may add, from the editor after he saw a previous travel post of mine on this very blog. (Remember that pool of puke?!). 
So if you plan on visiting anywhere, please visit the site. It's lush. And very helpful. In an advanced social media sort of way... Triptease 
p.s. If you think you may detect a little bit of a blow my own trumpet/toot my own horn vibe, yep, you'd be right. I'm pretty excited about this. For me, the blend of creative writing and travel is exactly what I'm all about. Perhaps, if this is a style of travel writing you also love, you could get in touch with Triptease and put your own travel tales about for others to share as well.

Toilet talk of a 4YO

So Esme (my gregarious 4YO), comes falling into my room, still groggy with doze, and whispers,

E: Mummy, I am absolutely starving for the toilet.

LIFE AS IT HAPPENED TO WORK OUT - So far!

Tonight I am borrowing from a post I've read over at the lovely blog White Feathers and so much more. The author, (do you know I don't know her name - she is the blogging friend who sees white feathers), is soon coming to a crossroads. Her children will both be at school and she feels there must be a change. But she is not sure what she wants to do. Or rather be. If you go and visit her blog and read her post, 'What will you be when you grow up?' you will see what I mean! Anyway, this was my response, which I felt was a very LIFE AS IT IS sort of post, all of its own, and with White Feathers permission, I am duplicating. Thank you dear! 

Feral child no.2 & her new found water fountain

The most fabulous thing just dawned on Sofia Faith while in the tub... that if she doesn't actually drink the bath water, she can propel it at her sister instead - by squirting it via the gap between her front teeth. Oh my feral child number two. 

To recap: Nursery nursing, snot & job satisfaction

Week two of training as a nursery nurse in a special needs nursery, and for some reason this little one had taken to me. Probably because Downs syndrome children are so full of affection. She had a bad cold, the sort where permanent train tracks of snot conjoin nose and mouth. Her glasses were skewed; barely on. Her knotted hair wild. Her smile massive. She was deaf. But as I hammered on the floor in front of the tunnel that she motored through, she felt the vibration. She looked up at me. Her smile enlarged. The gap between us closed. She reached me. She threw herself upon me. Laughing. Hugging. Holding me close. She pulled her head back to look into my eyes. To check I laughed too. As she did so, the spaghetti string of snot, stretched out bridging the two of us. Her world, her silent world, was loud, noisy and full to the brim with happiness. I remember thinking, I don't know if I'll ever find this level of job satisfaction again. I'm not sure I ever did.

FOOTNOTE: I wanted to add that I since found an amazing level of job satisfaction. Clearly I am totally happy with my LIFE AS IT IS as mum and with the writing/creative work I am able to do. With every blank page that becomes written and worked up, I am fulfilled. But, the point that I was trying to make above, is that the sort of satisfaction that particular scene gave me as a 17-year-old trainee, remains untouchable. It always will. It was a one-off moment in my life. 

What if... it had been a Downs syndrome baby?

I've just found out a friend, who is 19 weeks pregnant, has received much anticipated great news. Her amnio result is negative. She was given a 1: 22 chance of her baby having Downs syndrome. 

It has been a period of waiting ever since she found out she was pregnant. After waiting for her 12 week scan, with complete intrepidation that there maybe more than one baby (she was on Clomid), she then had to wait the further time frame for the amnio due to the high risk, and then had to wait over a week for the result. 

She has handled it all brilliantly given the situation. Knowing she would have chosen to abort if it had been Downs was a conversation we had. No matter what degree of severity, she would have chosen to take drugs to stimulate labour and terminate the pregnancy; the baby. A much longed for sibling of an about to turn five-year-old sister. 

I could only imagine the internal battle my friend was having - her head saying don't connect with this baby - it may not be for keeps. Her heart telling her not to listen to such nonsense, to bond with the babe within. And with all her motherly might. 

Silent Sunday (2)

Even more down to earth with a bump (9)

continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK TWENTY-THREE

This pregnancy is so easy compared to my first. Everything is ticking a long nicely. 

Even more down to earth with a bump (8)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK NINETEEN

My body is telling me to slow down: I've been trying; it's so frustrating... but having done a couple of walks and had that bleed recently I'm reluctant to carry on running around quite as I was. 

I needed reassuring so I asked the midwife to listen in on the baby’s heartbeat as it concerns me that I’m not feeling any movement yet. (I felt Esme at 16 weeks). It was great to hear it. It is always so much more emotive to me; hearing rather than seeing. 

The midwife told me to stop worrying, to carry on as normal, and to try and enjoy this pregnancy. I smiled at her. I knew she got it. That I wouldn't probably ever stop worrying enough to enjoy this pregnancy.

Poets, posts & peonies

As I write this, I smell the beautiful peonies Simon gave me on our anniversary, wafting. The fragrance is sweet. Gorgeous. 

As are we. Again. That sounds odd right? I'll explain... 

Old before her time?

M: Esme darl, go and get your glasses on, they're on the side in the kitchen.

E: What did you say Mummy? My hearing is going...

What have you done today to make you feel proud?

Emma's post is not only about cheering her up. It is also about promoting her JustGiving page race for life in aid of Cancer Research UK. Yep, amazing huh? This lady is planning to raise funds for Cancer Research UK by running The Race For Life - in only a matter of weeks. Now that is inspiring!

FOR EMMA

It is weird, blogging on behalf of someone I do not know. And for that matter, with a whole load of people I do not know. But what's not weird, is that we have all been touched by this woman's story, and have all shared a wish to help make what she is going though, a little bit easier.

Emma Day, who blogs at  Crazy with Twins, is a 27-year-old mum of twins (age 1) and Bunny (age 7). She is fighting cancer for the second time. Over the last couple of weeks she has been isolated in hospital for radiation treatment, and then isolated at home, due to emitting harmful radiation from her body.

The good news is that those radiation levels have dissipated far quicker than the docs predicted, and so she's now out of isolation, reunited with her family, able to cuddle and comfort her children once more.

On a bid to help Emma, the blogging community (I'm really rather new to all this, but there's quite a family it would appear), continue to stand in support, passing a digital baton of cheer between them, hosting a blog hop called Shoulder to Shoulder to Day.

Me and Karen over at themadhouseofcatsandbabies, (do go and take a look at her amusing story), are co-hosting the hop today and spreading the positive vibes, as well as raising awareness on Emma's behalf about Maggie's Cancer Centres and The Race For Life (which she is running soon). Emma is also hoping to find a sponsor to buy an iPad for the iodine room at the Cheltenham General Hospital. If you can help, please get in touch! 

For now though, a poem for Emma. 
ps. Still rooting for you kiddo!

BACK TO YOUR BABIES

Do a jig in the rain, and sing to a star. 
You're out. Prison's over. Don't stay so far. 

As if! We all know, you can't wait to get near. 
Leave behind all the pain, desperation and fear.

Now you can; you are able to have and to hold.
A fresh new beginning is about to unfold.

A process to go through, perhaps that may be,
But it won't last long, they remember, you see.

You are mum, you are lifeline, unbroken will.
And they loved you before, and they love you still.

Smile, laugh, even cry, but do not weep.
Your children, these memories, they will not keep.

Your babies, your daughters, your husband: All yours.
As the whirl slows down, you can take time to pause.

Blow bubbles, paint rainbows, hum lullabies too.
Keep your family tight, squeeze them in close to you.

Play dollies, but do it with real ones instead.
Pat them, stroke them, and then kiss their head.

Get up early, sleep late, climb into a cot.
Be smug, be delirious, for lose you have not.

So jig in the rain, and sing to a star. 
You're out. It's over. Enjoy where you are. 



© Emma Oliver

www.maggiescentres.co.uk/‎ Emma’s JustGiving page race for life in aid of Cancer Research UK.

top to trunk to root - tangled up in love

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

'Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathless, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just 'being in love' which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when 'being in love' has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

May your roots grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms fall from your branches, you find out that you are one tree, and not two.'

Louis de Bernieres

TEN TOP TIPS FOR POSITIVE PARENTING

1) Make sure your praise is genuine and meaningful.

2) Praise effort as well as achievement.

3) Use positivity, praise and hugs to reinforce good behaviour, and do your  best to ignore less desirable behaviour.

4) Use distraction e.g. when your child is too boisterous, lead them into a quiet activity.

5) Keep in mind that toddlers will gradually understand how you want them to behave.

6) Do not laugh at bad behaviour; try to lead by example. 

7) Remember to criticise the action, rather than the child.

8) Try to pre-empt a negative situation coming and turn it on its head.

9) If you say or do something you regret, explain that you did not mean it and say you are sorry with a cuddle. 

10) Consistency is key.

Taken from the article Positive Parenting and the Power of Praise which if you'd like to read, is available as a full feature in the Autumn 2013 issue of Baby London Magazine.

Bringing career skills to parenting?

Blogger Judith, over at Secrets of the Sandpit, has written a post about what she is teaching her children, and the teaching skills she's brought with her from her career.

http://secretsofthesandpit.wordpress.com/2013/06/01/cant-stop-teaching/ 

Thought-provoking or what at 6am?! Here are those thoughts...

I'm really lucky as I trained as a nursery nurse straight from school, then worked with countless children for twenty years before going back to do journalism at Uni as a mature student. I bring all the tricks of the nannying trade with me, along with the greatest of all, which links in with journalism's feature writing - storytelling. 

Training as a Nursery Nurse, completing a child psychology Diploma, and, Nannying, all gave me a built in understanding of children's behaviour, what to expect overall, and a whole host of tips for an 'easier' life as a parent. Except of course that as mum, thanks to a shared strong bond, you have to deal with guilt, and emotions I never knew existed as Nanny.

In her post, interestingly, Judith raises the importance of praising our kids. I've recently written a three-page feature on this subject for the Autumn 2013 issue of Baby London, and my blog is where it began... http://1grace1faith.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/children-and-importance-of-praise.html I will of course link the article to LIFE AS IT IS at the time the mag is out, but wanted to say that we should never under-estimate how praising our children, encourages them to be happy, confident and independent little people.


In my next post I want to share my top ten tips to positive parenting, taken from the article Positive Parenting and the Power of Praise which if you'd like to read, is available as a full feature in the Autumn 2013 issue of Baby London Magazine.

Adorable musings of a 4YO

 E: "Oh Mummy, you should have waited to marry me!"

FRAMED

 What I love about this FRAMED, is the fact that after Julia had signed Esme's book for her, Esme then decided to sign a post-it note for Julia!

FRAMED

The Singing Mermaid

Children's poet laureate Julia Donaldson (3)

The auditorium was packed with children of all ages, excitedly anticipating the spectacle ahead. And Esme. Who had told me she had not wanted to come only an hour before, and now kept asking me for another sweet to chew. Sweets so sticky they stuck to their wrapper. Sweets that surely must have been stashed in a cupboard by a radiator at the Hall, for potentially a decade of entertainment?

A hush fell over us all and then there she was. Julia Donaldson. On the stage and resplendent in blue. Wearing her children's poet laureate medal with pride. Looking, well, normal! 

Julia announced how happy she was to be back in Haslemere, and then, she announced how sad she was, that this was to be her final show as the children's poet laureate. And then she began.

Children's poet laureate Julia Donaldson (2)

Beg, steal, borrow and buy

I've been reading Julia Donaldson for twenty years, first as a nanny to countless charges, and since to my own two girls. I never tire of her tales; how brilliant she is and they are. The characterisation, the rhythm, the rhyme, the unexpectedness, the language, the humour. 

I presume at this point that everyone on the planet knows her, not least because some of her best loved books (inc The Gruffalo and Room on the broom), have since been adapted to programmes for television; fast becoming the latest must-watch Christmas day entertainment, but also because she has been the children's poet laureate for 2011-2013.

I do wonder though if it is always realised that the author of such joyous stories has endured momentous pain and suffering. 

Children's poet laureate Julia Donaldson (1)

Today, Esme Grace (my musing 4YO) and I, are off to Haslemere Hall to listen to Julia Donaldson read some of her magical stories on stage. I'm not sure who is more excited... Oh okay, perhaps I am. That will most certainly be me then. 

I'll be sure to check back in and let you know how it was.

Silent Sunday (1)

Secondary Infertility feature

Secondary Infertility

After having one child you assume that the second conception will be plain sailing. This isn’t always the case... Emma Oliver talks about her experience of secondary infertility. 

Looking back, the hardest moment through all of my Secondary Infertility hell, was when my mother-in-law (stood right beside me), said to my two-year-old, ‘Ah poor little Esme, when is Mummy going to give you a sibling?’ I mustn’t forget to mention that she knew about my miscarriage history.

Musings of a 4YO

E: Mummy, did you know that if you throw a meringue, it comes back to you again?

Ode to my Grandmother (aka Beach Granny)

Two years on...

I smell you in the garden as the flower, or on the Chanel stand in the perfume department. 

I feel you when I touch my now squidgy thumb against my skin. 

I think of you as I look into your mirror hanging in my hall, or pinch the salt from your little glass pot into my casserole dish. 

I see you when I watch Sofia thinking. 

I also hear you often now that she speaks. She says 'hi' just like you used to. 

I'm glad you are here with me still. 

I love you - I always will. 

I only wish my girls could have known you.

Gran's Eulogy

PREFACE: I was four months pregnant with Sofia when I read this out at my Granny's funeral. I remember thinking I might falter. But that was before I felt a burning hot sensation on my shoulder. An arm around me perhaps? Whatever, whoever, it was willing me on, comforting, emboldening. 

Eulogy; Kathleen Mabel (aka Beach granny).

The warmth and care that Gran bestowed entirely on others was testament to the sort of life she lived. One filled with love. 

A tough life at times; but one in which she always maintained her strength and dignity. One where she always seemed to cope admirably with all the hardships she had to face. 

Gran had to be so strong all her life, that even in her final days she found it difficult to let go.

Even more down to earth with a bump (7)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK SEVENTEEN

This week I've been fine. I've slept surprisingly well. No more bleeding. Nothing much to report.  

WEEK EIGHTEEN

Spoke to soon. Sleep the last few days has been continually disturbed with Tarantino style dreams.

Oh and it was Gran's funeral. Although I managed to get through that without being too emotional. I was able to write & read the eulogy for her. And I know she would have been proud. But now I'm feeling totally drained. I miss her.  

Nanny notes (Delano Hotel, Miami) & that pool

Sorry that the image surpasses the text box on the right, but frankly, I didn't want to shrink it. Let's get this into perspective. This is a pool that surpasses. This is a pool that is - to use Ian Schrager's word - visceral. This is a pool belonging to one of the finest hotel's in the world. 

The following snippet of a nanny note begins with my charge scoffing, and myself contemplating (in my finest Brooklyn), 'Oh my God. How much a cup of coffee cost?' 

Freddie who was not quite two ate his way through a large lunch consisting mainly of chips, and, as a last minute ditch attempt to throw in all of his five a day, half a pound of grapes - his mother had insisted.

Food over, Freddie wanted to run. But that can't happen in a place like the Delano, (which may explain why there weren't any other kids there). Before long, he began balling. It escalated quickly. 

DELANO ( Link to the next post from the last post)

Pronounced: De-la-no NOT, Dee-lan-oh

Having mentioned luxury hotels worth splurging on in the previous post, I was reminded how fortunate I am to have stayed in so many around the globe. I lived quite a high life as a nanny, first class travel, food and accommodation. Aspects that were made even more glorious due to the juxtaposition of the 'roughing it backpacking' I escaped to during my time off. Which by the way, I loved even more. Back then, anyway!

New Yorker Ian Schrager's posh hotel, Delano, situated on South Beach, Miami was definitely not roughing it. And the following post recalls a shocker of a snippet from my stay there as a nanny. By the way, I'm saying that in a New York accent as I type it; it just works better. Oh as does the word 'better', hell it's probably best, you give it a try too. I love a bit of audience participation. The whole thing though... practise first if you like. But please read the next post in your very best Brooklyn accent (think Woody Allen or Joan Rivers), in tribute to their fellow Brooklynite and designer of luxury hotels worth splurging on, Ian Schrager. 

ps AND yes I know the De-la-no is in Florida, but Florida is really a hot New York. It's spelt differently that's all.

pps Keep practising, it may be a day or two before the post appears!

FOOTNOTE:
Silly accents are an all-important part of everyday living, sometimes essential to the reading and telling of LIFE AS IT IS.

Travelling to posh hotels independently

There was a piece on the Yahoo home page today entitled: Luxury hotels worth splurging on, and it took me back to when I first graduated and did a stint on The Independent travel desk in 2005. I was there to gain some experience, and had only got my foot through the door by sending an email of complaint to the then assistant editor. For some reason he really appreciated that and offered me a placement. It was chaos. It was heady. And I loved it. Even if it did result in me almost crapping myself at times down to the sheer fear of getting something wrong. The bottom line (no pun intended), is that it was amazing fun. Oh and I also had some articles printed, one of them being a hotels special. I interviewed Claus Sendlinger, CEO of Design Hotels, and, Ian Schrager, of Studio54,  Delano and Gramercy Park Hotel fame. Here are my favourite quotes from each of them regarding what they did, and still do best: Luxury hotels worth splurging on.

Claus Sendlinger, CEO of Design Hotels, on what hotel he particularly likes, and why? Amanjiwo, Amanrtsort at Borobudur, Central Java, Indonesia - because of the way the architecture is integrated into the natural surroundings and how the setting of the property overlooks the valley with the Borobudur Temple rising above it. Time has a slow motion feel to it here. It is the most peaceful place on earth I have been and maybe the best experience I have ever had staying in a hotel.

Ian Schrager, Hotelier, on what makes a great hotel? A hotel should lift your spirits when you stay there. Every fact and detail is important. Visuals are only a small part of it. The sum of all the parts added together result in creating certain magic, and it is that magic that is the most important element that a hotel can strive to accomplish. Therefore, I would say it is the overall visceral experience.

The emotional musings of a 4yo

Esme is clearly forming a lasting relationship with our fancy fish...

E: Mummy, when our fish die, can we keep a pet spider?