On Losing My Footing & The Climb Ahead

This time last year I was single & working (fairly) hard. I was the manager of a cafe, & felt more or less on top of life, except that I had nobody to share it with & tended to eat a lot of cake instead. These were things I was working on, though strangely my weight wasn't much of a knock on my confidence - I had some very pretty dresses, & was very 'out there' in said pretty dresses. I'd joined match.com & had had some dates. It was all pretty fun but I definitely remember hungering for more than carrot cake. In a very cliched way I wanted to love & to be loved. It was all I could really think about & I imagined it would be a long & arduous journey to hunt down a man of worth.

It was around this time that I decided to enrol on a climbing course. Though I was mainly motivated by the fact that it was always something I had wanted to try but never got round to, I have to admit that I had half-jokingly expressed the idea that I might date a man who was courageous & bold - ie a mountaineer. In hindsight someone had clearly been spiking the chocolate cake, but who was I to know?

I went to the classes with my good friend, & then boss, L, & enjoyed it thoroughly on the climbing front, though our instructor was disappointingly skinny & boyish, not at all heroic. Never mind.

I never got to finish the course, though a few weeks later I met (via match) a man who I would soon fall for, who would love me & who I could love without any fear. Though he wasn't a mountaineer, he was, & is, everything I had wished for, not in the particular form I had imagined, but in every form I have needed. If it was a crap novel he would be 'the one'.

Fast forward to today. I live with 'the one' & what is more we have a precious baby girl. Not long after we met, we 'fell pregnant'. I'm not sure how you 'fall' pregnant but that's what happened. I fell in love & then I fell pregnant. Next I sort of fell off the face of the earth. After all that falling I'm now attempting to do a bit of climbing, back into the world & to become the woman I was a year ago. After finding love so easily I had no idea that all that stuff I previously had & finding my footing in the crevasse between family life & adult life would actually hardest things to achieve.

Its all about finding strength & balance, being agile & enduring the particularly tough bits as well as having good mental control.

I suppose the point is that it is easy to think 'What is life, if you have nobody to share it with?' but we should also bear in mind the thought 'What is love, if you have nothing to share?'

Day 4 of 366: Love & Junk.

Four days in (well, I started a day late, so technically three) & I'm enjoying actually having something to think about! Posting a picture every day has got me pondering about what is important to me & what I have surrounding me. Currently, I haven't really left my dining room to take a photo. Since having a jolly good post-Christmas tidy it has become my little safe haven & I like it! I have my laptop & my radio & Eldest has her toys & plenty of space to make mess. I may have mentioned before that I don't really watch TV & so when I lived alone I didn't have one. The man, of course has a gigantic one ("Whheeeyyy!") as men do, which now dominates the living room & so it makes me happy to have my own tranquil room & to be surrounded by things I love.

I wouldn't say I'm shallow or materialistic but I love stuff. Junk, mainly (pretty junk), as well as meaningful objects & I do tend to get quite attached to & sentimental about all my shit. As I was taking a look around I realised that amongst all my stuff-I-love I don't actually have any photographs, except for the four that I keep on the notice board. I have a hard-drive full of photos, of course I do, but I have no framed family shots, nothing like that. Besides the fact that we're just not that kind of family - I don't think we've ever had a photo of us all together, & not through lack of love - I can't see much point in displaying photos of people who are so deeply rooted in my heart & mind & I find no creativity in bland, mass-produced frames bearing posed, fake-smile pictures propped up on mantelpieces & the such. I much prefer my tatty, pin-punctured snaps which sit as comfortably on the notice board as they do in my soul.

Photos, are still important to me & I love nothing more than to look through ancient photos of relatives & remark at the crazy hairstyles & fashion; to see who gave so  & so their nose; to be amazed at how much is passed on from generation to generation & inevitably I will look at the stuff that surrounds these people & say "Oh gosh, do you remember that sofa? I bounced on it so much it eventually gave in!" or "You used to love that Teddy, Eldest has it now." & that is why, for me, stuff is important & integral to who I am. Memories are held in the stuff I surround myself with & the possessions of my loved ones & I hope that this will be the same for my children. Every time I look at an ink picture done by my Mum, or a pencil topper made by my Great Aunt & the various other things which I have 'acquired' from them over the years it reminds me of the wonderful innate creativity the women of my family possess. When I visit my Grandfather I see the (horrid) antique porcelain figures sat on his mantelpiece & I am a four year old child again, peering as closely as possible at all the tiny details on the women's dresses & feeling the spiky, delicate ruffles of the men's tunics. This, for me, is precious.

 Above: Dad & I. I look just like Eldest here. Shame we were at the hunt (not something I approve of)

Below Left: My oldest friend & I at my 6th? Birthday. Below Middle: Eldest & my hand, conkering. Below Right: Mum & I, before the races. Swish.

Damn Sentimental Me.

Happy New Year one & all! Has 2012 been off to a good start for you this year? Or perhaps you are nonplussed - do you celebrate an alternative New Year? I'd love to hear.

For me, I don't find that I become overly reflective with the passing of a year but I always note how much has changed. This year, like many others has been a jam-packed one for me. It seems that I'm destined to live my life in the fast lane, as it were. So much happens from year to year I can hardly keep up.

I saw in 2011 in the company of some wonderful friends. I was single & surrounded by couples. I was pretty drunk & had a lot of fun dancing like an idiot on the 'slippy floor' of my favourite friend's dining room.

This year I was in the company of a wonderful friend, my other half & some of his lovely friends. I obviously am very un-single now, & furthermore, we have a gorgeous new addition to our family. We were all pretty sober & spent the evening eating crisps & chocolate in our living room.

I'm not one for resolutions - as I've mentioned in previous posts I'm bloody useless at keeping them - but I think that the beginning of a year offers the chance to plan ahead. This year I am looking forward to spending time with the children: watching them grow; enjoying our time (in between tellings-off & naughty-step placement) & most of all just being Mummy.

An important journey that I embarked upon last year & shall be continuing on this year is one regarding my mental health. I've been suffering from anxiety & the subsequent depression which has been ruling my life for the past year or so. It was only about half way through that I realised that it was a real problem. I thought for years that this feeling was just me being a fuck-up, not being able to be like other people. I just thought it was how I was, it never occurred to me that there may be help - a solution.

Since opening up, I've found that actually & quite sadly this is a common problem. A lot of people suffer & what is more, many suffer in silence. Like me, they think that is something they are just doing wrong or believe that there is shame to admit they feel so. When I decided it was time to start talking, as the depression was starting to rule my life, I initially did so to my partner & then explored some unofficial internet support groups, mainly on the website I sell crafts on. It took me a while to be able to open up to close friends & though I blog fairly openly about it I still haven't expressly told any of my wider circle of peers what I'm dealing with. This is mainly because it is not relevant, but is also due in part to fear of being judged. That is going to change. If relevant, then I shan't have any concerns about mentioning it in future, but the part I have struggled with the most is the scariest part of depression, which has only reared its head this year - at some extreme low points I have wondered what, exactly, is the point of pathetic me being here. That is to say I have felt suicidal. It sounds melodramatic & wholly ridiculous but it is damn scary. Thankfully, it is not something that I've felt since the birth of my second little girl & it is not something I ever want to feel again.

I was surprised to find that some too of my close friends have been struggling with such issues too, some for years. Like me, they hadn't really opened up but eventually I think we all just reached breaking point. We have always been close but much more so recently & though I would wish for no one to feel what I have been feeling, I have taken immense comfort in having somebody understanding to talk to & being able to support others when they're having a bad day & often when I feel I have been there for someone it makes me feel as though my life is not completely pointless. I love my friends, of course I always have, but this year all of them have been there for me when I really needed it & I couldn't have made it through without them. I am very lucky (& now I'm shedding a bit of a tear. Damn, sentimental me!).

With this in mind I have been wondering lately why there is no obvious support group for people tackling mental illness. I know that this is partly due to the stigma attached to all things brain-related & though there are some amazing people trying to wrestle this stereotype into submission it is still something that people feel uncomfortable with voicing & hearing. I feel that there needs to be something out there, with a big neon sign saying "Feeling mental? Come join the club - it's normal!".

People should have the right to voice their own feelings (should they choose to) without feeling labelled or diminished. They should also have the right to access support easily even out of 'office hours'.

So this year, in light of all I've said, I want to help myself & others. In fact I think that by helping others I probably would help myself too. All the bullshit around mental illness needs to be labelled as exactly that & I want to play a part in that.

Watch this space.

If you have any ideas, input, opinions, thoughts then please, please, get in touch. I would love to hear from anyone who has suggestions or experience in this field & details of how I can play a part in this, big or small.

You can email me at chloe.skinner@hotmail.co.uk
or find me on Twitter at @PeaGreenGwin
or even on Facebook by searching for Our Pea Green Pod

Wishing you all the best for 2012, I look forward to whatever this journey brings.

PS.

This year, I'd like to take part in the 366 day challenge, whereby you post a photo every day.

Don't ask me how I'm going to manage this, I'm flaky at the best of times, but it definitely sounds fun!

Today is just wanted to share with you some sumptuous roses which are sat on my desk. They were brought to me by a lovely, lovely lady. This is what makes friends so special - she is the best!

Our Pea Green Christmas

Christmas inside Our Pea Green Pod was wonderfully cosy & relatively peaceful (if you drown out the giddiness of Eldest kipper due to being entirely spoilt!)

I cooked my very first Christmas dinner (duck, rather than the traditional turkey) which was surprisingly successful & we have been enjoying duck sandwiches & bubble & squeak for the past few days! We had a real tree which smells divine & a mountain of presents, the like of which I have never seen in my life. The girls were very spoilt indeed!

Christmas was mainly hand made this year. I wanted to make Christmas as warm & as perfect as possible despite having practically no budget & so I had been knocking up a few bits & bobs for the past month or so. Some of these I sold, but others I kept for our home.

I thought I'd share with you a few of my Christmas bobs, all of which are exceedingly simple to make (hell, if I can, anyone can!) & I hope you enjoy & maybe even get a little inspired!

For the children (including the big kids...us) we had some little stockings to go on the tree. Eldest was thrilled that Santa had packed hers with nuts & chocolates & candy canes.

 For our tree I made some little felt bits & bobs. So simple - just felt shapes stuffed, with a blanket stitch around the edge & with buttons or sequins or bells for decoration. For some of these I used buttons from my Grandfathers old button tin which are actually older than I am! I love the idea that in years to come I'll be able to tell the children where they came from & how I used to love playing & counting the old buttons in that tin as a child.

I also had these gorgeous little wooden toadstools which I found in the local gardening shop. They were only 60p each & I treasure them! They complimented our little peg soldiers wonderfully. As a child I used to make these with my mum & they hold much sentiment for me, as well as being very cute & simple indeed! I can't wait to paint more with my girls & create warm memories for them when they get older.

For the mantelpiece & fireplace I made some bunting which I love, using some sumptuous Christmas fabric. I also had a few toadstools dotted around, some lovely thin holly tinsel which was a bargain from the range & complimented our usual fairy lights which hang there all year long. 

But, for me, the thing that really made our Christmas absolutely Pea Green was these two glittering faeries (even if the littlest one was a wee bit unimpressed at everything due to lacking the motor skills to actually open or play with presents or the comprehension to know what the heck was going on!)

Hope y'all had a wonderful one & that the New Year holds lots of magic for you. I think it shall for us!

On Freedom & Lack of Plastic-Horse Related Injuries.

This week, Daughter is staying with my parents as we prepare for the supposedly imminent arrival of TBC & so we haven't seen her in over a week & if TBC doesn't [bloody well] get here soon then we shan't see her until Thursday at the earliest. At first the idea of peace, quiet & lay-ins was a blissful dream & I was relishing the time alone & the freedom to go wherever I pleased at whatever hour I wished, however after a few wonderful days of doing things like meeting a friend in pub, yes, a pub, & having a pint - a real sodding PINT! - with her & wandering as I pleased around trendy shops with no cries of "I neeeed a weeeee!" or "I'm hun-greeeeeeeee!" the novelty has worn off & as much as it pains me to admit it, I would rather have her here, whinging & all, than all this bloody peace & quiet. So I thought I'd share with you a few things that Daughter likes to say or do that usually drive me crackers, but that I inexplicably miss about her when she's not here.

1.

When I try to take a photo of how beautiful, sweet & charming she looks, a little like this...

...but because she is such a big fidget, you end up spending about 3 hours & taking several billion photos like this beforehand...

...& yes, that is a donkey she is licking.

2.

When we are in a public place & she says (at the top of her voice) things such as:

"Oh, Mummy, look at that man, he has a big, round, fat tummy! Like you!"

"No, Mummy, that's not a lady it's a man."

"Well, honestly, I just want to pick my bottom."

"Was that you pumping Mummy?" - please note, likely honest answer is no however I've found disputing this point can often lead to prolonged conversation regarding pumping, at increased volumes.

3.
The lack of housework there is to do. I know that as soon as she returns I'll retract this as a woe, but honestly, being around the house is so frigging boring. I feel as though I can keep the house tidy & have no excuse for not. At least when she's here if I can't be arsed to wash up I can blame having too much on to not do it & instead make a den out of a cardboard box or have a tickle fight. Now I have no excuse! It is nice not to nearly break my neck falling over train sets or standing on viciously shaped plastic animals, though.

4.
As much as I love silence, sometimes a nonsense conversation is wonderfully amusing. Now I have to be a grown up & do paperwork & things. I haven't been listening to Radio 4 at all as there is no need to balance out the 3 year-old-ness with vaguely informative & adult chatter.

5.
I miss her charm & her beautiful smile & the feeling of warmth I get when, after a day of complete horror, stubborness & avoidable tantrums (mainly mine, to be fair), she gives me a hug & a kiss & tells me she loves me & I melt.

I miss my Girly. Hurry up Baby.

Lists are seriously frustrating to format.

I officially declare myself a Grooving Mum.

I know I’ve all ready written an intro but this post will be my list of goals (please note – list likely to be changed, removed, revised or set on fire at any time) that I’d like to achieve within the next 12 months or so.

Because I am currently 37+ weeks pregnant, I have decided that the most sensible thing to do is to set myself some short term aims – i.e. little things to do or change before the baby or when the baby first arrives – as well as a few bigger ambitions, & things about myself that I know will take longer to change.

I shall get straight to the point, as I have had a rather rough day – to my dismay after almost an entire week of feeling well – and I’d like to post about the Halloween activities Daughter & I got up to in the last few days when I’m in a better frame of mind!

So, here goes…

Short Term Goals:

1. Ensure that I have a safety-net should I end up suffering from PND when the baby arrives by:
   
   • Making a crisis plan, as suggested by Community MH Worker.
   • Ensuring I am as honest as I possibly can with my Man & my family if needs be – this is something I have struggled with recently & am still reluctant through fear of burdening others unnecessarily.
   • Taking steps to be healthy – eat well & keep my mind active so as to get into a better routine with a view to keeping this up once the baby arrives.
2. Sort out my ridiculously out of control finances in order to create stability for me & for my family – I dislike talking to people over the phone & therefore must man-up a bit & take charge of the situation instead of becoming a nervous wreck & avoiding these things.
3. Enjoy the final few weeks of my pregnancy, without feeling any guilt for outing my feet up & having things done for me.
4. Do more things I enjoy & stop worrying about others – take pleasure in making for Christmas, & share my achievements.
5. More face masks & chocolate.

Long Term Goals (Post-Baby & New Year):

1. Take care of my body – start running again, then possibly swimming when the hotter weather comes. Lovely endorphins, yes please!
2. Keeping up with the healthy eating routine that I will hopefully have established pre-baby. Not weighing myself but ensure I’m not too skinny for my clothes & feel well in myself.
3. Settle Daughter into a new nursery & set up a good routine for her, baby & myself.
4. Take time & research the possible careers I could have when the baby gets to nursery age. Work towards achieving something that will empower me, as well as fit around family commitments.
5. Hone my writing skills, so that all my blog-posts aren’t quite as dreary as this one seems so far! Seriously – take time to educate myself in writing & possibly other things that interest me. Get the cogs turning again.
   
   
   So, these are my goals thus far. As I say, I may revise them or (more likely) set fire to them. Currently my main focus is being well in every sense when the baby turns up. I’m truly terrified again this week. I can’t see many ways that I’ll keep sane, particularly after the New Year, but making this list today has certainly helped me. I’ve got good feeling about my Grooving Mums adventure & I certainly hope that I don’t bore you all to death in the weeks to come. I’m also totally looking forward to keeping up with everyone’s stories too.
   
   Ooh & I almost forgot - as requested by Kate this week I am including a pic of my in my Halloween glory, from this weekend. Looking totally un-pregnant (but trust me - it's all there) & I was actually feeling bloody brilliant too, though I am mostly always self-conscious of photos, hence the expression:
   
   

   
   
   
   Wish me luck!

Why can't I?

Here I go...

This morning I decorated gingerbread men with Daughter.

Monumental achievement? It felt like it.

My moods have been erratic lately. 

After last week being busy & my mind being fairly distracted, I shuddered to a halt on Saturday evening.

Saturday had been spent visiting my mum. We had plans to go out but comfortably abandoned such plans while feeling cosy at home. I was content to sit & let Daughter play while everyone else looked out for her. I was utterly relaxed on the large leather sofa, with the log fire roaring.

When I returned home I felt fine. A little more nonplussed than earlier. Was it the beginning of numbness? I wasn’t sure.

I crashed out on the sofa, I was tired, & sure enough the numbness crept over me like a familiar old blanket. Oh no. I was quiet & subdued all evening until it came to bedtime. Bedtime is usually the clincher. I sat on the edge of the bed & as my lovely, unsuspecting man brushed his teeth I started to cry & sob. I didn’t want to feel like this. It seemed as though this was happening more unpredictably than before & I couldn’t cope with it. I didn’t want to feel like this, I didn’t want it carry on & at the same time I didn’t feel as though I could carry on. It was too much.

Why does this keep happening? How can I feel so okay one moment then completely encased by sadness the next? 

Sunday was numb. Today is numb. I’m not good & I’m not bad. I’m just thinking. I’m certainly not doing. I never do anything when I feel this way & that’s part of the problem. I feel sad; I have no motivation; I do nothing; I feel worthless; I feel sadder. Then I cause problems for myself – not paying bills, not completing projects – & that adds anxiety to the mix.

Yes, the answer is glaringly obvious. Do something you lazy twat. It’s more than that. I’m not sure how to explain further, except that it’s like a constant block: a constant voice in the back of my mind that reminds me of just how much of a failure I am – just how worthless I am. I can tell myself I’m not, others can tell me the same, I believe them sometimes, it sounds rational but it doesn’t make it go away.

I need help. I’ve asked for it, though I haven’t been entirely honest  about how I feel with anyone I’ve encountered – not professionals nor with my loved ones. I know that I must but I don’t want to make a fuss – I’m not worth a fuss. I am pathetic & I should be able to deal with this myself. Everyone else does. Everyone else copes with life. Why can’t I?

I bloody love Christmas me - though not usually in October!

Today, after three hours of travelling on trains (more on that & the rude commuters of Britain later), I finally have got round to making some Christmas bits & bobs. I have spent the last hour or so snipping & sewing & it feels good! (With the exception of an aching back - so blog & dinner break happening now!)

Here's a quick sneak peek at what kind of things I'll be making. Goodness knows if I'll sell anything - craft fair tomorrow & I plan on popping some of these lovelies on the Little Pea Green Etsy Shop - but if not it'll save me making more for our own tree!

Last week I was sat in our living room, minding my own business when I suddenly got a subtle sniff of something like a pine scent. I think it was the faint aroma coming from a little lavender bag which Daughter had found & claimed as her own for a while but was now stuffed down the back of the sofa & forgotten, but my brain was obviously in a jovial mood & so interpreted this as a whiff of festivity. I became overwhelmingly excited about the impending arrival of winter & the festive season. I cannot wait to see the living room transformed with bunting & decorations (I am quite the traditionalist so lots of rustic reds, greens & golds); for the scent of the tree & the excitement as the presents build up beneath it; for the cursing every time someone kneels down & gets pine needles angrily poked into their knees; for an open fire roaring during the day & then it's embers gently roasting chestnuts on an evening; to buy pointless & rich foods & to gorge on them with absolutely no shame, just pure revelry, swilling it all down with a slug of Irish cream liqueur or a hot coffee cheekily spiked with a shot of brandy, whatever the time of day.

I could go on forever & ever about the best bits of Christmas but, this year, the thing I cannot wait to have our brand new family in the midst of all this toasty-warmth & cosiness.

I bloody love Christmas, me. Even the cheesy songs.

P.S. - apologies for getting so excited so soon, I don't usually do such silly things but I am due to have a baby in one month & as I am prescribing myself one month of focusing on nothing but the baby & sleep everything like this is getting pushed forward one month, so I am living as though it were the 17th November! Therefore I find this festive fanaticism is entirely justified!

Friday, Saturday & a fulfilling sense of fatigue.

Friday & Saturday: bus-rides; train-journeys; baking; coffee-making; high spirits; terrifying information; jingling keys & achey feet.

Tomorrow, I shall expand on that.

Now, I intend on having a hot bath - sorry baby - in which I intend to have a decadent amount of bubbles; soak & scrub my sorry soles & take a firm grasp of all the thoughts which are floating just out of my mind's reach. I then intend to ruminate said beholden thoughts whilst laying in my bed with a cup of tea. Then, perhaps, I'll make a list of two; perhaps I'll just sleep or perhaps my packing & moving will wondrously do itself so I have no need for lists or excessive sleep in preparation. Who knows?

For today I leave you with a work in progress:

Packing, Procrastination & Apprehension.

Today, I shall mainly be packing. That is, whenever I am not on a tea/blog/procrastination/wee (not meaning to be vulgar but it's a joy of pregnancy) break.

I have, however, had two small set backs. The first is that I've used half my previously-thought-to-be-adequate supply of boxes in the kitchen alone, & that does not even include half the crockery & cutlery I am leaving until the final hour to pack, nor the crap that I can't be bothered to wash up (the latter probably counting for about a third of my kitchenware).

So, currently my kitchen looks like this:

My second set back is that being five months pregnant makes it increasingly difficult to move, let alone lift, heavy objects. If you are a shrewd observer you may have noted the four heavy-looking items right in the middle of my kitchen floor. Appearances are not deceptive & alas they are heavy & indeed they are stuck there. The man is not due around until next week so I'm facing a weekend whereby the simple acts of getting daughter's cereal or cooking risotto are going to become stealth missions of great peril (particularly the half-awake morning parts) made even more treacherous to navigate given my current heffer-like state.

When I'd got quite fed up of inky-black hands & deciding which junk to keep & which junk to palm off on some poor unsuspecting friend, who once politely expressed some vaguely-positive opinion of said junk, I decided that I should probably let you know about the latest additions to the very, very slowly but sort of surely expanding bits & bobs on the Etsy shop. I also decided that I should try to use more full stops & apologise for that last sentence!

Here are the bobs:

You've probably seen the Green Love Owl (#1) before, but there's also Fiery Love Owl (#2) & Love Cat (#1) Daughter is still rather fond of these so I'll have to do something nice for her new bedroom.

I still can't quite believe that I only have three more full days left to pack - we don't move for a week but the rest of my time is full with work & other errands - nor can I believe that when we are all moved in & settled that a couple of months down the line we'll have a new addition to our only just newly formed family. I'm just coming to grips with the idea of sharing my time again, & when, between nappies, man, toys & housework will I fit in art & blogging & a quiet cup of Ovaltine? Well, to be fairly honest I'll probably fit the nicer things in where I should be fitting the housework but let's hope some miracle occurs & I somehow transform into a goddess of the domestic variety.

The thing that I feel most apprehensive about is not being the bread-winner, or the provider. Sure, I'll work until 6 weeks before The Big Day, but only part time. I shall struggle to make half the rent. I've struggled before but never have I been in a position where the struggle isn't needed - I won't have to pay half the rent, though of course I'll put in all I can. Never have I had someone take the reigns in that respect & that scares the crap out of me.

Of course, I am more than grateful, but that makes it no less scary. I've allocated myself the job of chief nest-maker which you may think is given, but last time I was bread-winner, nest-maker & nappy-changer, amongst other things. I find it difficult to feel satisfied that I am putting enough in - but is that because I'm used to being the only source of input? I feel simultaneously lucky & guilty. Not that my man makes me feel any guilt, quite the opposite, but because it's just such a shift in the way I'm used to living.

Maybe I'll quite like the lady-of-leisure lifestyle. I will certainly try to enjoy it & make the most of the valuable time I spend with the children. That, of course is the most precious reward I could get.


I guess the only thing to do is sell more art.

Anyone?

Did a little dance; Made a little Love[Owl]...

This week, besides over-eager consumption of Ovaltine, we have been trying to spend time - real meaningful time. Therefore packing has taken a back seat (where I expect it to stay until about two evenings before we're due to move when I will be frantically throwing random objects into unsuitable containers) & instead we have had some lovely activities on the go.

I finished my previous job on Thursday & all though I have been a little busier than usual with preparation for the opening of the new/old cafe that I shall be working at (new/old because I worked there for the previous owner who also happens to be a wonderful friend too), it really has felt blissful to have a weekend all to ourselves.

On Thursday I got all too excited about the choice of coffee for the new cafe (celebratory dancing & a wide grin in anticipation of a coffee tasting on Monday - though I will have to spit so as not to create a hyper child!).

On Friday I made a little Love Owl (#1)

Daughter was quite taken with him, but alas he was purposefully made to sell ~ here ~ so we decided that we should make our own, for her to treasure.

I think that I shall certainly treasure him in future - he's a joint effort, Mummy did the outline & Daughter chose her colours & [with a little guidance & tips on how not to brutally destroy a paint brush] gave them to him. She then, of course, signed her mark - a backwards 'E', followed by a forwards 'E' (clearly done on-purpose...) - & I duly dated it 2011 & made note of her being age 3. Certain to say there was much pride from both of us.

The weekend held a trip so see some lesser-seen family & some much appreciated fish & chips, gobbled with greedy delight in the perfect warmth of Friday evening sunshine.

There was shopping on Saturday... a pram was chosen... very exciting... & today, well today we decadently layed in until our stomachs decided that it was time for pancakes (crepes) & later took an amble in our wellies to get much-needed supplies for yet another indoor picnic.

This evening consisted of me taking apart of my coffee grinder. I now have rather oily hands & a lovely aroma but best of all the cleanest coffee grinder in all of the North East of England at the very least!

This weekend was one of the loveliest & I feel more than lucky that a lot of times recently have been some of the loveliest.

My man is strong & loving; My daughter is short, perfectly-formed & cherished; My bump is petite, all in front & contains a healthy babe. How could I be more blessed?

Lovely things.

It's all about the simple pleasures:

Milky, malty, cocoaey goodness.

A pregnancy comforter - never before in my life have I enjoyed a cup of Ovaltine but there was a sachet in my bag-of-free-crap that they palm off on you when pregnant & lo & behold...addicted! That's marketing for you!

Armadillo. He is what he is.

Cheese.

On toast.

Fingers.

Yum.

Everything is changing

An unexpected pregnancy leads to life being tipped upside-down.

We swap a flat for a house.

I swap my single parent fram of mind for family living.

I swap one mischeivous imp for two.

He swaps no mischeivous imps for two (plus mischeivous mother of said imps).

I swap small-town for bigger-town.

He swaps city-life for town-life.

We swap our ten minute commute to work to forty five minute commutes in opposite directions.

We meet in the middle of our current lives & hopefully forge something that we will call 'our life together'.

Everything is changing, for the better.