On the eve of mother’s day I thought I’d introduce you to my style icon. She doesn’t have countless instagram followers, she’s not a model and she’s not a stylist. She only ever wears designer clothes (because she has designed and made them), she dresses for no-one but herself and is amongst the most fearlessly stylish women I know. Of course, I am talking about my beautiful mother and “glam ma”, or Oma really, to my boys.
Mothers day is fast approaching. A day to be filled with burnt toast, sticky kisses and hand-drawn cards. A day to let my own mother and grandmother know how much I love them. A day for hearts bursting and hearts aching. My middle son will be in my thoughts more often than he usually is. He always will be on days like this.
My head and my heart will will be full of him but I will be thinking about other women too. On days like this I always do. Read more
We are a family who camps over Easter. I’m looking forward to camp fires, quiet days, beautiful surrounds, no internet, starry skies, the chance to put on a jumper and watching the kids get back to being kids. I embrace camping. On a certain level. You see, I prefer my camping on the glamping side.
It’s been a bit quiet around here. The big kid is back at school and the little guy and I have been pottering around, both a little bit at a loss. After weeks of noise and bustle everything has calmed down. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t love every moment of the holidays. There were plenty of times I couldn’t wait for school to start.
But now that it’s here I sort of miss the chaos.
The stardust has settled on Christmas and I have finally exhaled. One of my previous roles in life before kids was a project manager. I never quite kicked the habit of reflecting on lessons learned at the end of a big thing. So I have been thinking about the festive season, how stressy it’s all been and how I might be a bit more organised next year.
This is basically a note from my 2015 self to my Christmas 2016 self. My aim is to be one of those smug December people who say “Oh, I had everything organised for Christmas weeks ago.” I know – everyone hates those people. I still want to be them. Read more
We always have a few children’s CDs in the car and the boys’ current favourite is Puff the Magic Dragon. They adore that it’s a song about a dragon and can’t understand why the last verse always leaves me undone …
Dragons live forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant strings make way for other toys.
One sad night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.
His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. oh!
My tears never fail to fall along with Puff’s scales. The loss of childhood innocence, the end of magic and the absence of belief always leaves me heart broken.
I want it last forever – the childhood faith that impossible things happen every day and that our ordinary lives are sprinkled with magic. That the world is people with fairytale characters that leave money for teeth, chocolate at Easter and presents at Christmas. I still believe in Santa Claus. Read more