Words and Pictures

List 9/52 Foods I'll never get sick of

2012-01-25T22:40:00.001Z

Avocados - I used to eat one every day and my skin was a-mazing. Best served smushed on toast with marmite. Also makes a great facemask, apparently.

Houmous - king of dips, but best in a jacket spud with grated carrot and lots of chopped tomato. My favourite home alone tea. Babies love it too, but it's a bugger to get out of those fat creases in their necks.

Spinach - because it is full of green goodness and makes you all bouncy and strong. If you are making Indian food, it is illegal not to include it.

Thai curry - I like my Thai curry like I like my men: green, creamy and exotic with a load of coriander piled on top. Bizarrely, I much prefer my own unauthentic Thai curry made with ready-made paste than anything from a Thai restaurant. Does that make me a bad person?

Home-made pizza - preferably made by the Mister. With tons of any type of veggie (not green pepper - what kind of sicko do you think I am?). And a salad on the side. Add a DVD, a bottle of Leffe and it's the perfect Saturday night in.

Carrot cake - no two taste the same. Always great with a cup of Earl Grey. And has veg in, so you can enjoy it guilt-free. Must always, always have cream cheese icing and preferably a baby carrot made out of marzipan on the top. That makes me really happy. The best one is from here, eaten in the sunshine with the chickens running around next to you.

Dark Choc Hob Nobs - a bit like Voldemort, these are the 'biscuits that shall not be named', such is the strength of their dark powers. I only buy them about once a year or things start to get messy. I'm talking whole packets dunked into just one cup of tea and vanishing. Just like that.

Chips - despite professing my love of home-cooked veggie goodness, I adore chips. Home-made or chip shop or even (you might want to sit down for this one) the oven variety - I love them all. The rules are that they must have lots of vinegar and an enormo dollop of ketchup (running out halfway through is a tragedy). The best chips are always from a chip shop, eaten outside after a long walk on the beach.

Mondays With Moll

2012-01-17T21:14:00.001Z

With Gwen in school, Miss Molly and I have Mondays and Fridays to ourselves. We don't do much - just potter about the house, read lots of stories, walk Blod, go to the park and I squeeze her quite a lot.

Recently, despite the rain and the cold, we've got into a lovely Monday morning routine. We get our wellies, woollies and/or waterproofs on, grab Blod and head out for a long walk. First stop is to feed these friendly horses. They like apples and carrots and come galloping across the field when they see us arrive.

After more walking, the next stop is this log, where we do some ball throwing for Blod and Moll picks the mushrooms growing on it - "for my collection, Mummy".

More walking, then a final stop for Moll to go freewheeling down this hill on her little trike (too small now, but she loves it) over and over again.

And then we go home and make super sandwiches with as many ingredients as we can find - houmous and cheese and avocado and tomato and cucumber and olives and pepper.

It's how every week should start.

Weekend Therapy

2012-01-08T22:08:00.000Z

All it took to blow away those January blues was a trip to the beach.

We clambered over the rocks. We paddled in the waves with our wellies on. We did roly polys down a dune. We jumped off high walls onto the soft sand (Gwen jumped from a wall about 1.5 times her height - eek!). We saw a teeny tiny sausage dog puppy.

And we did number 30 from The List by taking a big flask of hot chocolate (we even remembered marshmallows).

Maybe January isn't so bad after all.

The January Bleurgh

2012-01-06T22:36:00.001Z

I claim to love all the seasons. I lied. I bloomin' hate Winter. OK, the twinkliness and love at Christmas is nice but I get completely overwhelmed with the consumerism every year. And now, it's January. It has rained for about three weeks. It is so dark when I get woken up up ridiculous o'clock, and it's still dark when I've been up for about an hour and a half. The house is cold and draughty. We have water leaking through roofs and running down walls. I am a bit fat. I look ever so tired. And I'm very miserable.

I have an actual biological need to be outside every day or I go a bit stir crazy. I also can't go for more than a few weeks without going to the beach. My body cries out for water and fruit and veg. I seem to have forgotten all of this and have become someone who drinks coffee, eats white bread, has a Jaffa Cake habit and a dog that's missed a fair few walks recently. This needs sorting. I have written out my manifesto and will read it each morning (while I'm drinking my freshly squeezed apple, carrot and ginger juice and doing a salute to the sun, of course).

And I've also got to embrace January and February, and look forward to early nights, winter beach walks with hot chocolate, soup season, getting under blankets for stories with my favourite girls, sharing winter ales in front of the fire with the mister, lighting candles and fairy lights. I'm going to stock up on some new novels, read ones that have been on my shelf for ages, get some TV series on DVD (any recommendations?), reinstate Cheese and Scrabble Sundays, sneak in some cinema trips, book some theatre outings, plan camping weekends for summer, do more blogging and work on The List.

And Moll noticed today that our daffodils are just starting to peek out from under their blanket of compost, so Spring surely can't be all that far away?

Back to School

2012-01-03T22:11:00.001Z

The Snail went back to school today (well, she went back for half an hour, threw up and then got sent home - but that's another story). It's been lovely having her home for two weeks, just pottering about the house dressed in a variety of tutus and princess dresses, demanding Christmas albums on the iPod and making up songs (her current fave is called "I don't wanna make you serious", closely followed by my favourite Gwen classic "You gotta have a baby before you get annoyed").

She's settled in really well at school, has lots of friends and is especially fond of her teaching assistant, Mrs Stockton, who gives her an enormocuddle every morning. I still have no idea what she gets up to for most of the day, but she seems to enjoy it - especially the bit when they sing really evangelical-sounding God songs in assembly.

Some observations and achievements from the first term...

She's picked up a really bizarre, over-exaggerated Valleys accent
She can read lots of letters and words, and has her first reading book - The Red Pig
She's learnt lots of Welsh words and lots of playground games (both of which she tells me off for getting a bit wrong)
She's discovered (from eating her friend's packed lunches) that "You can get this bread, Mam, and it's all soft and white - and even the crusts are soft!"
She played a blinder of a snowflake in the Christmas play
She has been to Lucy Williams' house for tea all on her own
She asks me permission to go the toilet all the time
She must do an awful lot of running about at play time, because she has worn holes in the soles of her shoes

I miss my snail so much, but I'm so proud that she's a confident, happy little girl with lots of friends. Go Gwenster!

Our Weekend Lodger

2011-12-17T21:31:00.000Z

Gwen is such a girly swot. She comes home from school most days with star stickers on her jumper for being helpful, tidying up and generally being a bit of a goody two shoes. Mrs Morgan, her teacher, says that even if she is telling the whole class off for being too noisy or something, Gwen always likes to point out how good she has been.

This week, she was overjoyed to get the most ticks on the 'being good' chart on the wall. As a reward, she got a small chocolate lollipop and she got to bring Mrs Morgan's friend Bernard home. Here he is enjoying a cinamon swirl for his Saturday breakfast treat. He looks chuffed to bits.

List 8/52 Naughty Things

2011-12-08T23:25:00.001Z

This is the face of naughty.

Here are the naughty, naughty things she has been up to.

Smearing yoghurt all over the table.
Running away. Approx 1,356 times this week alone.
Opening the suncream and smearing it in her hair.
Feeding her breakfast to Blod.
Unravelling the toilet roll.
Posting pieces of jigsaw between the floorboards.
Hiding under the table and trying to draw on the floor.
Jumping in a puddle that smelt of compost bins.
Trying to swig the dregs out of a bottle of Leffe.
Destroying a Lush shampoo bar by squishing it in her fingers.
Breaking the bathroom blind.

She's also quite fond of listing all the naughty things she has done that day. There are usually many.

What a naughty sausage.

A Tale of Two Coffees

2011-11-11T21:46:00.000Z

Yesterday morning, I had to drive to work. Instead of my usual 20 minutes of bliss on the train with a travel mug of finest Fair Trade filter coffee and a good book, I faced 45 minutes of traffic jams and a radio that either cuts out every five minutes or will only tune to Radio 3.

So for damage limitation and sanity purposes, I left the house obscenely early to beat the crowds. In fact, I left so early, that it took me just over 20 minutes to get into town, with me parking my little blue car at 7.50am - a whole hour before I normally get to work.

I'd skipped breakfast. My belly was grumblingly wondering where its peanut butter toast had got to. And the early start and lack of caffeine had left me feeling a little bit spaced. Then I remembered that the nearby registry office that Dave and I sneaked off to to get hitched almost a decade ago has been transformed into a Costa Coffee. What was formerly decorated in a style that would be best suited to an award-winning public loo (think peach-scented pot pourri, ruffled curtains with tie backs and gaudy plastic flower displays) is now an oasis of calm. All cappuccino walls, aubergine velvet armchairs, sweet coffee smells, twinkly lighting, mellow singer songwritery stuff on the stereo, and the occasional schwerrrrrrrrsh of that thing that steams the milk.

I ordered my two favourite treats (almond croissant, soy vanilla latte in case you're ever buying), found a quiet spot of cosiness in the corner and sat down with a book about running away from society to live in a yurt (the irony of reading this in Costa wasn't wasted on me).

It was 30 minutes of absolute bliss.

Filled with a new-found love of the big chain coffee shop, today, I persuaded Dave to finish work early so we could all go out for a late afternoon latte at another evil establishment. I had visions of sitting in an equally chilled space, the children colouring while Dave and I nursed our drinks and discussed our weekend plans.

But evil coffee shops on out-of-town retail parks (I know, I know - what's happened to me?) after school on a Friday are quite a different story to city centre ones early in the morning.

Gwen was exhausted from a week at school and ravenous after rejecting my home-made lentil and tomato soup for lunch - no doubt doing her usual trick of swiping someone's ham-on-Mothers-Pride sandwich instead ("Do you know mam, there is this bread that is white and it's so soft and even the crusts are soft! Can we get some?"). I could sense she needed careful management to avoid some sort of meltdown.

I had forgotten to bring the emergency colouring/books. It didn't look good.

As soon as we got there, she took off her shoes and tights and started trying to jump on the seats. Moll started to copy her, both of them laughing hysterically and very loudly with their tangled wild hair flying everywhere.

I was so happy when Dave appeared with a tray of goodies. Peace was restored for all of three minutes, until Gwen tried to eat Moll's half of muffin, ending in Moll screeching in protest and Gwen wailing that she was "Hungreeeeeeee" while the people on the next table were shooting me daggers, either for starving my children/not being very good at brushing their hair/feeding them muffins at tea time.

Molly tried to drink her hot chocolate with a plastic spoon, making an almighty mess. A few minutes later, she went the whole hog and spilt the entire cup all over the table, the fabric-covered seat and me.

At this point, Gwen thought it would be fun to crawl under the table and pretend to be a baby.

Then Moll did an enormous poo.We'd forgotten a spare nappy.

List 7/52 All the Things We Squeezed Into Date Day

2011-10-31T19:41:00.000Z

Dave and I (and Blod) had a rare date day and night last week - just over 24 hours to do whatever we bloomin' well pleased. No demands for snacks/felt pens/scissors/bottom wiping/Octonauts/tissues/Annie songs on the iPod/fairy dresses for a whole day and a night and a little bit longer.

A cuppa and some Hobnobs and The Guardian crossword (OK, not the most glam of starts)
A long walk through the fields with Blod
Leisurely lunch
Into town for a cuppa at Barkers, my new fav Cardiff coffee shop
Cinema trip
Meal at Jamie's Italian
A lie in
Breakfast in bed with newspapers (saved from the weekend especially)
A long soak in the bath - in the middle of the day (oh, the decadence)
Lunch at The Otley
Another walk with Blod

Then I started to really miss that crazy-haired pair of fraggles and kind of wandered about the house aimlessly for the last 20 minutes waiting for them to come home. And so the lovely, messy, chaos began once again

Number Ten

2011-10-30T20:43:00.001Z

Number ten from The List was to visit Westonbirt Aboretum in autumn. So we did. Beautiful colours. Lots of trees to climb and hug and hide among. And Earl Grey and some very nice home-made cake in the cafe. We'll definitely go back - perhaps even to Treefest next summer.

List 6/52 One hundred things that make me happy

2011-10-19T23:46:00.000+01:00

getting into clean bed sheets - getting into clean bed sheets with just-shaven moisturised legs - soy hazelnut lattes - being by the sea - Laura Marling - walking in the rain - Maggie O'Farrell novels - The Guardian on Saturday - ladybirds - painted toenails - photography furry coats - home-made bread - Earl Grey tea - carrot cake - cwtches - hats with ears - libraries - all kinds of veggie curries - Waterloo Teahouse - going to the cinema - Thai curry - wearing wellies and walking up streams - my nan's home-made crinkle cut chips - my lovely friends - Michael Rosen - making soup - birth stories - bubble baths - being in a forest - avocados - veggie sushi - drinking chai on the beach in winter - little girls in stripey tights - home-made granola - reading blogs - The Idle Parent - Blod's biscuity smell when she's all warm and sleepy - my husband - my girls - independent shops - my mam's roast potatoes - wearing red - Innocent smoothies - Flickr - climbing mountains - squidgy baby thighs - corsages - floppy-haired little boys - being frugal - the smell of vanilla - being barefoot in the grass - one morning coffee from my cafetiere - train journeys - singing - vintage coffee pots - Spring - smelly things from Lush - Wales - early nights - baking - big, open spaces - breastfeeding mamas - back tickles - live music - fairy lights - Welsh wool blankets - bonfires - 6 Music - Nakd bars - writing lists - sunshine - Neal's Yard lotions and potions - watching sand run between my fingers - dancing in the kitchen - fresh air - cats with really big tails - the Fraggle Rock theme tune - digging earth with my fingers - home made everything - pizza night - mittens - swimming in the sea - babies in slings - people watching - Adam and Joe - donkeys - the word 'wonkey' - going to the theatre - that squeaky noise that guinea pigs make - old ladies with long hair - the Welsh word for microwave (popty ping) - and the Welsh word for ironing (smwddio) - Rolf Harris - flared jeans - really bitter dark chocolate - sleeping - people with passions - Spotify - notebooks - cute hair clips

I have actually done this list once before - I wonder how many things are the same?

List 5/52 On Not Being Very Happy

2011-10-18T22:46:00.000+01:00

I don't do well in colder weather, no matter how many hats with ears, gingerbread lattes and furry coats you throw at me. If I didn't love Wales and my family and friends so much, I'd have hot footed it to sunnier climes aeons ago. And so, a list of why I'm down in the dumps.

Getting up in the pitch black. So not natural.

I have totally lost my photo mojo.

Finding the new rhythm that school brings to our days quite difficult to get used to - how to fit in reading practice, making nutritious and varied packed lunches, remembering PE kits and books and tins of beans for the harvest festival, and dealing with a very exhausted little girl at the end of the day. Roll on Friday when half term begins!

I feel flabby and wobbly and generally bleurgh.

I'm also looking quite wrinkly around the eyes. Not helped by Gwen looking at me adoringly the other day, then saying "Lovely Mammy, lovely wrinkly eyes."

Our house is damp and cold and needs a lot of money and time to de-damp it, neither of which I have.

Terrified of teaching antenatal classes - having daily wobbles and considering jacking it in (although I know this will be better when I reconnect with my lovely sistas in my tutorial group on Saturday, making birth art with pastels and talking about placentas and stuff).

The annual consumerfest of Christmas is already stressing me out. Can we spend the whole of December on a remote Scottish island, holed up with books and warming soups and a wood burning stove instead?

On the plus side, I spotted this rainbow from our garden last week, so it can't be all bad. Next up, a list of things to be happy about. Because there's way more good stuff than bad stuff.

On Two-Year-Olds

2011-10-04T22:38:00.000+01:00

I wish I could bottle the bonkers levels of cuteness of two-year-olds (especially this one). Their nonsense chatter. Their podgy arms. Their pot bellies. Their infectious giggles. Their love of being thrown about. Their funny obsessions with diggers/birds/raisins/worms/Babybel cheese. Their tuneless singing. Their love of having a bare bottom. Their really small wellies.

I think I would like to open a day nursery for children who are two. Just them. No babies. No proper little people. Just this unique species of two-year-old toddler. It would be stinky, there'd be quite a few emotional moments, but it would be so much fun.

Things We're Loving Right Now

2011-09-29T21:47:00.001+01:00

The girls loved making mud pies (my lovely but cleanliness-keen, worm-averse mother, standing just out of shot, was loving it slightly less).

We are all chuffed that our garden shed/studio/Dave's den/the girls playhouse is almost finished.

I am listening to Benjamin Francis Leftwich, which is the aural equivalent of the melty middle bit of a chocolate eclair sweet. I am also bit partial to roibos tea from my really small teapot, some cuter than cute vintage china from my lovely work colleagues, daydreaming about big plans for our little family, wondering why I never thought of getting baby bunnies involved in our wedding, and cuddling Blod.

Gwen is loving school, especially singing songs about Jesus (shudder) and eating her friend's ham sandwiches (double shudder). She is also chuffed to bits about learning to ride her bike.

Moll is enjoying making no-compromise demands for "a skirt and a top" every morning, inventing nonsense jokes (Example: "Why did the animal bonk his head?" "Because he ate the table") and going swimming with Bampa.

Blod is loving chasing balls, eating Moll's crusts and the sound of cheese being grated.

I'm not sure what Dave is loving, but it probably involves robots and/or the Apple Store.

Autumn Garth Walk

2011-09-28T20:55:00.000+01:00

Number from the list is walk up the Garth mountain every season. Last Sunday, I did my autumn trip. It took me just 40 minutes from my front door right to the top and it was glorious.

The sun was shining. There was the cutest family on the trig point at the top (that's them silhouetted). I saw sheep and shire horses and happy dogs and ladybirds and lots of youths dotted down the hillside picking magic mushrooms.

Climbing up mountains makes me very happy.

List 4/52 The Weekend List

2011-09-25T20:27:00.000+01:00

Years ago, when it was just me and Dave, I'd always write a weekend list of all the lovely things we were going to do. It was to get me through five whole days of horrible working-in-an-officeness. It involved things like laying in, having a long, lazy breakfast with the weekend papers, going on a really long walk with Blod, stopping off at a nice country pub for lunch, seeing friends, going to the cinema, pootling about at farmers markets and coffee shops... ah, those were the days.

Fast forward about five years and we've forgotten about the weekend list. But I decided to revive it this weekend. And it was a great success. We did everything on it (well, D's making the Jamie meal as I type - and I can confirm that it most definitely does not take 30 minutes). We also fitted in making mud pies, harvesting beans and onions from the garden, drawing around our feet and decorating the results, and a lazy afternoon in the garden with a teepee (G&M) and a cuppa tea (me and D).

I know it's a bit sad, but I just function better when I've got a list.

Bring on next weekend's list of loveliness.

List 3/52 All the Books I Read Last Year

2011-09-23T20:08:00.001+01:00

(With a three-word review)

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - Haruki Murakami (Very, incredibly inspiring)
The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim - Jonathan Coe (Modern life insanity)
One Moment, One Day - Sarah Rayner (Sad but sweet)
Slumdog Millionaire - Vikas Swarup (Gripping, tragic, epic)
The Reluctant Fundamentalist - Mohsin Homid (Clever, thought provoking)
One Day - David Nicholls (Why that ending?)
A Year in Provence - Peter Mayle (Too much meat)
Voluntary Simplicity - Duane Elgin (Lovely and lentilist)
The Hand That First Held Mine - Maggie O'Farrell (My 2011 favourite)
South of the Border, West of the Sun - Haruki Murakami (Not really sure)
How Not To F**K Them Up - Oliver James (Heard it before)
No and Me - Delphine de Vignan (Cute and sweet)
Starter for Ten - David Nicholls (Nostalgic and funny)
Room - Emma Donovan (Worth the hype)
Four Letters of Love - Niall Griffiths (Just so beautiful)
The Good Man Jesus and The Scoundral Christ - Philip Pullman (Food for thought)
We Need to Talk About Kevin - Lionel Shriver (Loved it, suprisingly)
The Pile of Stuff at the Bottom of the Stairs - Christina Hopkinson (Trashy but relevant)
The Importance of Being Seven - Alexander McCall Smith (My guilty pleasure)
The Vanishing of Esme Lennox - Maggie O'Farrell (Beautifully written page-turner)

I love libraries, me.

A Poem: 20 Things to do With a Piece of Spaghetti

2011-09-22T22:33:00.002+01:00

Make an incredibly droopy moustache

Drop it in the toilet and see if it goes splash

Tie it round your dog and use it as a lead

Fashion a fancy necklace (just add beads)

Knit it into a teeny pair of socks

Leave it in the garden to feed a famished fox

Pretend that it’s a wiggly worm and frighten your mum

Wind it round and round and round and round your thumb

Dangle it from your nostril like a long stringy bogey

Pretend that it’s sacred and present it to a Yogi

Pop it in your pocket in case you get peckish later

Use it to lasso a really small alligator

Stick it on your head as an extra bit of hair

Just go bonkers and wave it in the air

Lend it to a ladybird that needs a skipping rope

Donate it to some loved up elves wanting to elope

Use it as a bookmark, form a figure 8

Put it in an envelope and send it to a mate

Or you could just eat it

But that wouldn’t be half as much fun

List 2/52: Things I Saw Out of the Train Window Today

2011-09-14T23:07:00.000+01:00

Piles of autumn leaves
Sunshine streaming through the window, highlighting patterns of dust on the glass
Blue and red flags blowing in the breeze
A older lady with lots of eyeliner and happy eyes
A girl with beautiful red hair
Lots of Himalayan Balsam
Happy horses eating grass
A discarded yellow plastic bag
Graffiti on every single bridge
A house with a tree growing out of the chimney
A cloud in the shape of a bird
A castle
The mountain silhouetted against a very bright blue sky
Big puddles/mini streams
Hundreds of sheep on the mountains

Wellies and Welsh Cakes

2011-09-11T20:21:00.001+01:00

Wellies, Welsh cakes and wigging out to The Bucket Band at the St Fagan's food festival.

Have I ever told you how much I heart St Fagans? Houses to hide in. Woods to explore. Logs to balance on. Pigs with bellies to scratch. Chickens to chase. Tractors to ride on. Gardens to run through. Hills to roly poly down. And oh, the freshly-baked cheesy buns.

And all for free! If you're ever round our way, go there.

List 1/52: Things To Love About Autumn

2011-09-08T22:10:00.001+01:00

Because today, I'm feeling sad that walking through the fields with Blod at 9pm is officially over. And although the first day of school is done, now every day's a school day and we all have a lot of adjusting to do to the new rhythms of our days. And it's been raining for days on end.

So, to cheer myself up, some things to look forward to about the autumn.

Photographing all the lovely, lovely colours
The alchemy of making soup (and the magic of its comfort, tastiness, goodness and general toasty warmth)
Getting fluffy coats down from the attic
The odd sunny day where it's still warm enough to paddle in the sea
The summer beach dog ban ending on October 1st - that means Sunday mornings on Barry Island beach with Blod, a flask of chai and some cakey goodness
Putting the big, heavy feather duvet on the bed...
... and cwtching up under it with the cold air coming through the open window
Pumpkins and squashes in season
Piles of leaves to jump in (watch out for hedgehogs)
Hedgehogs snuffling and truffling in our garden at night
Crumbles, crumbles, crumbles!
Little legs in colourful, stripy tights and boots

Do you know what, I think it's all going to be OK.

Gwen Goes to School

2011-09-06T22:09:00.002+01:00

The day finally arrived. Gwen started school today.

After spending the second half of the night in our bed after a nightmare involving a witch trying to bite her leg, she woke up at 4.30am whispering in my ear "Is it time to put my school uniform on yet?" And again at 5.30am. Then again about 6. I finally succumbed at 7am and had a very long two hours to fill before dropping off time.

While there were a few tears from the other children, Gwenny was literally jumping up and down with excitement. A quick kiss and she was off into the classroom without a backwards glance.

Moll and my mam and I went welly shopping, coffee drinking and fish gazing at the garden centre to take our minds off things. Moll, delighted with the attention at last, quite literally talked non-stop all day long.

In the blink of an eye, it was picking up time. We collected a beaming Gwen, who rushed out of the door clutching a multitude of craftivities and paintings and colouring pages, shouting 'Un, dau, tri' (which is one, two, three in Welsh). She ate all of her packed lunch. She went to the big school assembly. She met two Lucys and a boy called Rhys King, who she calls King Rhys. They read Room on the Broom. She had a little cry at lunchtime when she had to play in the yard with all the bigger children and got a bit scared, but said she was OK after a few minutes.

All in all, a good day. Relieved, happy and very proud of my number one snail.

Way Out West

2011-09-05T21:45:00.000+01:00

We've had the most marvellous holiday in the West of our lovely Wales.

Seven days of sunshine. Not a drop of rain. Hot salty, vinegary, ketchupy chips on the beach. Dates with my camera. Morning runs on the beach. Lots of sandcastles. Swimming in the sea. Cream tea in a cottage garden. Lazy mornings with big pots of tea. Early nights. Surfy, salty, sandy hair. A bizarre harbourside festival with dancing and paella.

And the highlight was our blissful beach barbecue on a balmy evening. We ate hot halloumi and griddled peppers and veggie dogs. We drank Hoegaarden out of the bottles and hid in big holes in the sand. We splashed in the sea as the sun went down and saw hundreds of tiny silver fish leaping out the water. It's up there with the most magical moments of my life so far.

I'm a lucky lady.

(And we stayed two doors down from the childhood home of the artist Gwen John - one of the reasons why Gwen is called Gwen.)

36 Things

2011-09-04T08:23:00.000+01:00

Hey, ho, I appear to have turned 36. Officially on the road to the big 4-0. Blimey, let's not even think too hard about that one.

Anyway, after last year's birthday list, here's this year's. A few things on there carried over from last year and lots of exciting new things to do too. Here goes:

1. Cook a brand-new dish every month
2. Lose 10lbs
3. Go to the cinema every month
4. Have a monthly lunch date with Dave
5. Visit Jacob's market
6. Go away overnight for our wedding anniversary
7. Sell some of my prints in my friend's pop-up shop
8. Declutter and carboot
9. Bake a new bread every week
10. Go to Westonbirt Aboretum in autumn
11. Make 52 lists
12. Swim in the sea
13. Climb the Garth every season
14. Photograph my grandmother
15. Master 5 songs on the ukulele
16. Teach Gwen to ride a bike
17. Continue the Mothers and Daughters project
18. Get some polaroid film and use it
19. Visit the 3rd Floor Gallery
20. Discover 10 new albums
21. Plant a passion flower
22. Write 5 new children's poems
23. Throw another impromptu party
24. Sew something
25. Grow pumpkins
26. Film the children
27. Blog every week without fail
28. Make bird feeders for the garden
29. Take the children to sing carols somewhere
30. Drink hot chocolate on a cold beach
31. Cook and eat a meal outdoors in winter
32. Try a Zumba class
33. Read 3 classic novels
34. Make a photobook
35. Make elderflower cordial
36. Finish writing Dirty Daniel, the Stinky Spaniel (my children's book that's been a work in progress for about 8 years)

12 Sleeps 'Til Schooltime

2011-08-25T23:00:00.003+01:00

Dear Gwen,
In a week and a bit (or 12 more sleeps in Gwentime), you are starting school.

I've gone from feeling absolute horror about it, to feeling kind of OK about it and, now it's coming scarily close, feeling tears misting up my eyes and a wobbly feeling at the back of my throat whenever I think about it.

Your world's about to be a whole lot bigger as you get to experience daily life outside of our family. It's weird to think there's this other adult who I've never even met who's suddenly going to become a huge part of and influence on your life. And you're going to meet this whole group of friends who aren't the offspring of my friends.

You, of course, my bright, chatty, friendly girl absolutely cannot wait. You can't wait to wear the uniform, you can't wait to learn to read, you can't wait to play in the playground and sing new songs. But most of all, you can't wait to meet dozens of friends all your own age. You're going to blossom, my love.

And for us? Well, we'll still have morning cuddles in my bed, dancing in the kitchen after tea, stories and sprinkling dreams on your pillow and back tickles and hugs and kisses before bed. And we'll pack our weekends with lovely, lovely times and squeeze every second out of those long school holidays - I promise.

I'll miss watching you beaver away on your amazing drawings of houses on legs and grannies with chicken pox and people throwing spaghetti out of space rockets. I'll miss your constant demands for Little Boots on the Ipod. I'll miss you cracking the eggs and sticking your fingers in the sugar when we bake. I'll miss you flashing your pants and doing the bottom dance. I'll miss your crazy hair, your made-up jokes, your socks scattered all over the house.

I've loved every minute of having you all to myself. I hope you enjoy every minute of your new adventure.

Love, Mam
xxx

New Look Blog

2011-08-23T09:26:00.015+01:00

I composed this post as I'd set up a new blog in Wordpress, but I felt so emotional about leaving my online home, I just revamped this blog instead. Here's to seven more blogtastic years.

Since 2004, there's been a new word, a major house renovation, a new fur baby, a deceased fur baby, lots of silly poems, two baby bumps, two birth stories, lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of lists, two wedding cakes, giving up telly, my office hell, lots of creative things, discovering and loving photography, and a heck of a lot of cake.

Sleeping Under the Stars

2011-08-22T21:11:00.000+01:00

Ingredients for a lovely camping trip:

A handful of good friends

A sprinkling of sunshine

A generous helping of hot dogs and corn cobs on the barbecue

Several slightly grubby, half-naked, wild-haired children

A glug of red wine by the camp fire

All the Shepherds asleep in a row on a giant mattress

The slight smell of wood smoke on your clothes for days afterwards

Squeezing the Last Bit Out of Summer

2011-08-17T21:07:00.000+01:00

Summer’s starting to fade – the sun was starting to shy away behind the mountains at about 8:45 tonight when I was coming home from a lovely long walk with Blod. I want to squeeze every second of its light and sunshiny goodness. And so, a list.

Things to do before summer ends

Eat hot, salty, vinegary, ketchupy chips by the sea

Have a barbecue

Go camping

Drink wine under the stars

Make ice cream

Walk up the Garth (it’s a big hill/mountain behind my house) with Blod one evening

Have an evening beach picnic with friends

With a camping trip this weekend and a lovely holiday in Tenby just around the corner, we should be able to do them all – and a few more too. September counts as summer too, right?

Molly: Obsessed With Bottoms

2011-08-05T23:08:00.007+01:00

It all started a few weeks ago.

Mam?
Yes Moll.
My bottom is tired.
Is it Moll?
Yes, it got a lemon in it.

Since then, it's continued. She's had a biscuit, some more lemons and a tomato in it, and recently some salt and pepper on it too.

Award Winning, Don't You Know

2011-08-03T22:11:00.005+01:00

All I need to say is that I won the Photomarathon!

And I was on the main BBC website's In Pictures yesterday.

I don't think anything this exciting has ever happened to me before.

Well, apart from the news that The Hoff is moving to The 'Diff.

Photomarathon 2011

2011-06-27T22:53:00.005+01:00

A bit late in posting this, as it all happened two weeks ago, but had a fantastic day at my second Photomarathon. Still as creatively challenging and downright exhausting as last year, but loved it, loved it, loved it.

Topics were: 1. Entry number/Work of art 2. Inside out 3. Community 4. Super powers 5. Drama 6. Great outdoors 7. Double 8. My secret 9. Element 10. Movement 11. Obstacle 12. I have a dream

You have 12 hours to take 12 images on 12 topics - in the right order. Huge frustration when Gwen dropped her ice cream on the floor and was in tears ('Drama' anyone?), but I hadn't yet done the previous pic. Or, a real 'Gah!' moment for the 'Double' topic, when I saw twin boys, about 9 years old, dressed in identical shell suits and eating identical ice creams and then, about 10 minutes later, saw toddler identical twins on identical trikes with identical outfits - but I hadn't bloody done 'Great Outdoors' yet.

Here's my go at it anyway - can I just add a disclaimer that my image for obstacle is probably the worst picture I have ever seen (perhaps with the exception of Mr Meep's infamous crap wildlife photography, which involve a load of trees and a small out-of-focus blob of the back end of a cat/cow/lion in a corner) but it was late, I was tired, I was hungry and my feet hurt.

The Rhino and the Caterpillar

2011-06-25T23:17:00.003+01:00

The fraggles are going on a farm trip with my mum on Thursday.

"Are you looking forward to the farm trip, Moll?"
"Yes."
"What do you think you might see at the farm?"
"Um... a rhino... and a caterpillar."

There you go then.

Molly is Two

2011-06-23T20:41:00.004+01:00

Dear Moll,
You are two years old and absolutely bonkers. You started off as the quietest, most chilled out little baby, lulling us all into a false sense of security as you are now a bona fide nutcase.

You shout, you screach, you sing out of tune very loudly, you take your nappy off, you take your clothes off, you jump on top of me, you get out of your car seat straps, you kick your shoes off, you squirt moisturiser on the floor, you empty the shower gel into the bath, you smear yoghurt all over the table, you throw things down the stairs, you run away constantly, you climb on everything, you leap off everything you climb, you put the toilet roll down the toilet, you stick your hands in the toilet, you draw all over you arms, and when you're excited, you do a big excited smack on whoever's nearest to you at the time.

But at the same time, you have a lovely, sunny nature - always happy, rarely cross, never had a proper tantrum. And you're so funny, making us all laugh out loud every single day with your funny faces and amusing chatter ("Dog poo is... really nice" "Done a botty burp yesterday" "Molly's got hair, Gwen's got hair, Daddy's got no hair!" "Oh-my-god, oh-my-god").

At two years old you love dressing up (but only in either a fairy dress, a swimming costume or a dressing gown), talking about the time you fell in the stream, saying "Ziggy Zaggy", putting Gwen's nighties on, You Are My Sunshine, playing with Duplo, reading Tickle Tickle, doing everything Gwen does, a pat on the back at bedtime, Sing a Song of Sixpence, pretending to be a baby, picking flowers, splashing in the sea and being nakey.

For your second birthday, you sported a big huge shiner of a black eye from one of your many tumbles and ended the day by smearing black face paint all over the dining room walls and biting my big toe really hard when I wasn't looking.

Happy birthday, you little nutter.

Love, Mam
x

Zebedee Shepherd 1999 (ish) - 2011

2011-06-13T22:32:00.008+01:00

Dear Zebedee,
You were our first pet. You first came to us in 2003, from a 'broken home' where you'd been so stressed you'd nibbled half your fur off - and you had a manky eye.

You spent the first few days behind the sofa, but gradually ventured out into the lounge and reluctantly joined in with life in the Shepherd household - I'd sit on one end of the sofa, you'd sit on the other with your back to me and I once found you balancing on the ledge of the open bathroom window.

You were prone to randomly attacking us with your playfulness - Dave's hand, the back of my leg... nothing was safe. We called you Evil Zeb, imagining that when we were out, you'd get out your maps, invite round your gang of neighbourhood moggies and plot world domination. We'd stroke your whiskers so you'd do a particularly evil snarl. We made up a song about you called 'Black and White Fool' (to the tune of Jimmy Nail's Crocodile Shoes).

But you mellowed with age and became a people-cat. You liked to be cradled like a baby and never, ever struggled to get away. You liked to rub noses with me. You'd lie on your back so we could tickle your tummy. You were incredibly furry and purry.

When we moved house three years ago, it was a mixed blessing for you. On the plus side, you had acres of open fields at your disposal and as many mice as you could eat. On the downside, a house move with a renovation going on was all a bit much for an old cat like you and you never quite got the hang of the whole toilet thing (poo behind the telly anyone?). So for the last few years, you've lived in your little cat igloo in the conservatory (aka your stinky lair).

We always joked that you'd lived to 20, stubborn until the end with non-retractable claws and halitosis. Well, you didn't quite make it that far, but you had a good innings.

We had a lovely burial in the garden for you today. We wrapped you in a cosy orange blanket and put you under the fig tree. We each said something we liked about you (rubbing noses, your loud purr, your friendliness), then we covered you over with earth to keep you nice and warm.

I'll miss doing noses with you. I'll miss your incredibly loud purr. I'll miss your hoarse miaow.

We are all really sad that you're gone.

Rest in peace, you black and white fool.

xx

Mumbo Jumbo

2011-06-10T22:45:00.004+01:00

I don't mean to sound like some kind of awful competitive mummy type, but Moll is quite articulate for her age. She speaks in full sentences and can have proper little conversations with herself/her teddies/Gwen. Problem is, most of what she says is a bloomin load of old nonsense.

Reading an animal book
"Look at this lovely fish"
"Yes, bit my finger yesterday"
"What, a fish?"
"Yes"

Before bed, we talk about the day's events.
"So Moll, what did you do today?"
"Fell in the stream." (She didn't)

Just as I'm closing the door after saying good night.
"Mamma?"
"Yes, Moll."
"Got dirty knees now."
"Have you Moll?"
"Yes, filthy they am."

"Did you have a picnic with Nana today?"
"Yes."
"What did you have in your sandwiches?"
"Cornflakes."

Writer's Block

2011-06-01T22:53:00.003+01:00

I have writer's block. I want to witty anecdotes and funny stories and tales of the loveliness of the everyday. I want to write to remember. I want to create. I want to start that children's book about the stinky spaniel. I want to write more poems about peas (you can never have too many).

But it's late, my brain is frazzled, so I'll just post a picture of some cows instead.

Gwen is Four

2011-05-29T21:58:00.004+01:00

Dear Gwen,
This is all about you at four.

Four things you love doing
Wrestling - you are queen of the Big Gwennie Splash
Changing your outfit as many times a day as you can get away with
Making dens and beds and boats out of piles of blankets
Demonstrating your amazing dance moves

Four songs you love singing along/ dancing to
Don't Stop Me Now - Queen
Babooshka - Kate Bush
Starry Eyed - Ellie Goulding
And, despite being raised on a strict diet of indie pop... I Need a Dollar - Aloe Blacc (oh, and anything by Lady Gaga)

Four things you love watching
Octonauts
Shaun the Sheep
Tangled
Charlie and Lola

Four things you love reading
Noddy, your absolute favourite
The Gruffalo, still a big hit
All of the other Julia Donaldson books
My old Topsy and Tim books

Four things you like eating
Gnocci - tons of it
Green vegetable risotto, to my absolute delight
Ham sandwiches at kids' parties, to my absolute horror ("Of course it's not made out of a pig, mam - I can't see its face")
*NEW ENTRY* Poached eggs, since daddy found an egg poaching pan in the charity shop

Four funny little habits you have
You always, always have to wear socks to bed because you don't like the feeling of the mattress on your feet
You only like one cuddly thing in your bed at any time (current favourite: hand-knitted angel)
You have an irrational fear of flies, but only the ones that buzz
You detest - and resist - any sort of directed, organised activity, especially craft

Four other random things, just because
You draw amazing pictures of grandmas and warthogs and whales and planes
You say "actually" quite a lot
You're amazingly good at bandaging people
You don't own any trousers

Happy birthday my beautiful, funny, articulate, confident, emotional, creative, affectionate, generous, sociable, loud girl.

Love you x 4 (million)

Mam
xx

Picnics - they're back, back, back

2011-03-27T21:58:00.003+01:00

The picnic season has started. Bring on the: felafel, houmous, fritatta, olives, raspberries, egg mayo, cherries, goats cheese tart, vine leaves, spanish omlette, roasted veggies, elderflower presse, slow-roasted tomatoes, random over-priced picnic snacks from M&S. All with sand and/or a bit of grass, of course.

Welcome back, Lady Spring. I'm so, so happy to see you.

Mugs of Love

2011-02-15T21:50:00.006Z

Nothing says I love you more than his 'n' hers mugs for your bedtime chamomile (madame) or rooibos (monsieur). After all, it's the little things that make life that little bit happier every day.

Here are 10 things I try to do every day to inject a little bit of sunshine into my world. I so need it on this greyest and rainiest of Februaries. Come on Lady Spring - get your buds and lambs and general newness and optimism over here quicksmart. Meanwhile, I'm keeping afloat with my little list of daily happy things:

1. Drink tea
2. Cwtch someone or something
3. Listen to some uplifting music
4. Read a book in a quiet corner for 15 minutes
5. Create something - soup, a cake, a poem, a list, a photo
6. Be outside
7. Walk or run or swim or cycle (hmm, this one hasn't really been working out lately)
8. Talk to any one of my favourite people
9. Eat lovely, nutritious, home-made food
10. And, of course, have a little bit of cake or a square of Montezumas Orange and Geranium

Little things = big smiles

Performance Art in the Shepherd Household

2011-01-31T19:42:00.003Z

Gwen locked herself in her bedroom earlier while I was reading Molly her bedtime stories. She was gone for a long time and was awfully quiet. I was given strict instructions not to come in because "I am making a kind of stage performance."

She shouted through the door a little later and announced that the stage performance was ready. I opened the door to find this intricate display of lined-up dolls, teddies and cushions, The Snail in the middle of it all brushing her hair (she has recently discovered conditioner).

I wonder why she lay Fireman Sam horizontally?

In other snail-related news...

She found a book in her cousin's house called 'God Made Me'. She asked me what the book was called, I told her. She declared: "Who's God? Dog Made ME." Spot the heathen child.

She has also made up her first joke.

What do you call a man with a bag on his head?
Mango.

There's definitely some sort of surrealist streak to the Gwenster.

A Manifesto for Myself

2011-01-30T20:11:00.005Z

I'm feeling a bit lost at the moment, having huge trouble balancing the work me with the mama me, switching between the two for half of each week. I'm sick of trying to do everything, and doing everything badly. Sick of feeling fat and unhealthy. Sick of worrying about money. Sick of thinking 'what if'. Sick of feeling guilty about everything all the time.

Feminism sure did wonderful thing for women, but how did we end up in a place where we are expected to work, and raise children, and be a domestic goddess and look bloomin' gorgeous too? Do you think that was what Emmeline Pankhurst would've wanted?

The two 'me's seem to be so very different and I love both aspects of my life. I'm so lucky to have so much time at home. I'm so lucky to have a part-time job that I really like. But in all the trying to have it all, I've lost myself in there somewhere.

And so, to keep me focused, a little manifesto for myself, to remind me of what's important in life - to me, anyway.

I want to:

glow with health and vitality. read. photograph. be by the sea. work as little as possible. grow vegetables. shop locally. parent gently. love unconditionally. be kind. sing unembarassedly. write poetry. be a good friend to a few special people. cook. stop worrying. be generous. create more. buy second hand. keep it simple. love. feel alive. appreciate what I have. drink tea.

That is my manifesto for me.

All the Words Molly Knows

2011-01-26T21:47:00.007Z

Molly's had a word explosion. Here are all the things she can say.

Mama, Daddy, Nana, Bampa, Blod, shush Blod, cat, dog, horse, fish, head, fluff, zip, foot, sit down, get down, bounce, nakey (while naked and patting her belly), nice, jump, biscuit, apple, cheese, Babybel, car, bus, bird, shoes, sock, hat, kiss, hug, drink, fork, milk, cake, nose, dryer (hairdryer), kick, slide, ball, bed, eyes, bear, book, bathroom, brush, (ba)nana, egg, bowl, up, down, tractor, duck, sheep, pig, hippo, owl, knees, 'oghurt, me, bath, wipe, coat, tights, one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten, chick, bike, Esss Esss (Yes), hide, phone, hot, boo, good girl, peas, please, park, go-go-go, tea, door, close, more, bye bye, night night, poo.

And my personal favourite, said in a very Valleys accent, is a great big Hiyaaaa.

Oh, and shit.

She still can't quite get to grips with Gwen, who remains 'Eh' instead.

Here's what Gwen was saying at the same age.

Stolen Moments

2011-01-23T19:42:00.005Z

My life, it could be fair to say, is slightly bonkers: two very small children, two naughty naughty pets, a house that's still mid-renovation, a part-time job three days a week, a fair bit of freelancing, studying for my antenatal teaching (suprisingly academic and tons of work) and sometimes photography modules too.

And I love it, I love it all, but where to fit in all the other things I love - like photography, friends, reading, newspapers, blogging, baking, walking, running, swimming, cinema, gardening, my husband...? And the things I want to do more of, like knitting and sewing and writing poetry and cycling and growing more veg and learning an instrument and a language too.

Well, I've found a solution - stolen moments. Over the last few months, I've created these miniscule pockets of me-time, grabbing them when I can and squeezing every last second out of them.

A dog walk at dawn just before everyone wakes, penning a poem while the girls eat their tea, standing in the pantry with a square of chocolate melting in my mouth, a flask of Roibos on the bench in the park when the children play, a couple of chapters when they're having chill-out time, carrying a camera everywhere I go.

And on work days, the endless possibilities - a walk in the park, a coffee with a friend, the 20-minute train journey with a really good book, a midday date with my Nikon, browsing the bookshop, wandering round the museum, a trip to the library, choir practice, lunchtime concerts... I'll steal a moment whenever I can.

One day I'll have all the time in the world for snapping photos and making clothes and growing veg and reading all the books I can absorb. But for now, I'll take my lovely crazy life and my precious stolen moments.

Share the love

2011-01-22T00:12:00.000Z

Had to share this - so sweet!

The Shepherd Solstice Celebration

2010-12-22T20:04:00.007Z

In an attempt to get rid of the commercialism of the festive season and with my love of all thing Mother Nature and Steinery, I'm trying to honour seasonal celebrations. I was excited about the winter solstice yesterday and planned a day of warmth and fire and reflection and general family cosiness.

It was a right royal disaster.

Here are the highlights.

Took half an hour to get everyone wrapped up for a winter walk in the snowy wood, then both children started crying because they were cold after 10 minutes and we had to come home.

Planned a lovely solstice lunch - everyone got or getting over colds, no-one hungry, no-one ate anything.

We baked frangipane mince pies, which stuck to the tin and were a crumbled mess.

I acted out The Yule Faeries story for Gwen and Molly using various wooden animals in place of fairy dolls - Molly knocked all the 'fairies' on to the floor. Gwen lost interest and wandered off.

Crafting ended with Gwen, who hates any sort of organised craft activity, just painting glue onto pom poms.

Lit candles all over the house, which Molly promptly blew out.

The yule logs for the fire were damp and fizzled out, so bedtime milk and stories by the fire was a bit nippy.

While the babies slept, I had visions of me and Mr Meep sharing a bottle of mulled wine in front of the roaring fire, discussing the year that was and the year that will be. Instead, he played on the Wii in the lounge while I sat in the kitchen sorting out my old Good Food magazines.

This so wouldn't have happened in SouleMama's house.

Molly is 18 months old

2010-12-20T21:40:00.006Z

Dear Moll,
18 things about you on your 18-month birthday.

1. You have crazy bonkers hair.
2. You are always filthy.
3. You can hum along to Tomorrow from Annie - in tune!
4. And you also a fan of Baa Baa Black Sheep, especially now you can join in with the 'Yessshir, yesshir' bits.
5. You make a squeaky noise when you see a cute animal.
6. You give us huge grins of delight then use both hands to smack our cheeks at the same time.
7. You can say hiya, yes, shoes, ball, bubble, apple, dark, bye-bye, more, kiss, cwtch, eyes, hot, hat and duck. Oh, and shit, which I think means 'sit', but was also echoed repeatedly after your dad dropped something in the kitchen the other day.
8. You've had a snotty nose for 18 months.

9. You spend all day trying to climb on top of the dining table...
10. ... and throw whatever is on the dining table on to the floor.
11. You eat apples in a very unique way.
12. In other fruit-related news, you like to take one bite out of every item of fruit in the fruit bowl, then put it back.
13. You love a cup of Roibos tea.
14. You only like books with flaps in them.
15. If there is some dirt within half a mile of you, you will find it and poke your fingers into it.
16. You love cats.
17. You are not a fan of beards.
18. You offer people kisses accompanied by a 'mwah' noise.

Happy half birthday, my sunshine solstice girl x

Snot and Snow

2010-12-19T19:23:00.004Z

All four of us have various degrees of achey limbs, snot, fevers and general yukiness. Plus we are snowed in. It's not ideal.

However, I did manage to get out with Blod yesterday and the snow is rather spectacular around the village. There was also quite an amazing Blitz-style party atmosphere going on in the local pub. Shame we were all too sick to join in - bah.

10 Things

2010-12-06T21:06:00.004Z

1. Moll speaks! She says 'cwtch', 'kiss', 'shoes' and 'yes'. It's lush.
2. My new job is rather lovely and I get to go to lots of music and theatre performances - we even had a brass band doing the official switch-on of our office christmas lights last week.
3. And I'm going to London on Thursday - all day ON MY OWN. Wow. A quick photoshoot, followed by a lovely wander around a few galleries, hanging about in coffee shops and maybe a lovely light supper. And a two-hour train journey with a cuppa and a good book. Bliss. Eek!
4. Two months into my antenatal teacher training and I have encountered my first knitted boob. Bizzare to say the least.
5. We love the hipstamatic - so flattering, I look NOTHING like this in real life, plus it makes my messy bedroom look artfully dishevelled.
6. Celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary with lemon tart and Leffe yesterday.
7. Have piled on the pounds, but can not seem to find a single minute to fit exercise in at the moment. Help!
8. I seem to be the only person who takes their children to the park in the snow.
9. Christmas is, quite frankly, stressing me out. My head is going to explode with the consumerism.
10. However, looking forward to twinkly lights and mulled wine and open fires and spending time with some mumpets.

Things Gwen Likes - a Poem

2010-11-22T22:32:00.003Z

For Gwen, because she turns three and a half this week and she always asks me to read my poems to her, especially the one about peas.

Building blocks and dressing up
Roibos tea in a sippy cup
Making cakes, licking spoons
Opening the curtains to spot the moon
Singing songs from Wicked and Annie too
Talking about the time she “did lots and lots of poos”
Impressions of Elvis from Fireman Sam
Recalling the party where she ate some ham
Her cousins, Ralphi and Emily
Eating chips down by the sea
Made up stories, tickly backs
Telling off Moll when she tries to smack
Endless games of Hide and Seek
Boily eggs every day of the week
Funny monsters in her dreams
Stealing my lovely Neal’s Yard creams
Putting on the iPod for dancing in the kitchen
(Ting Tings tunes are especially bitchin’)
Doing the bottom dance, changing her knickers
Drawing, cutting, play dough, stickers
Lunch at Chapter, bouncing on the bed
Helping me to make the bread
Her dog hot water bottle, Frank
Laughing at the Welsh for crab - ‘cranc’
Swimming with Bampa, everything pink
Playing with water in the kitchen sink
CBeebies on the ‘puter on a Saturday
Going on the carousel in Cardiff Bay
Making dens all over the house
Being chased by the Gruffalo (she’s the mouse)
Tales about fairies coming to tea
Isn’t it amazing being three? (and a half)

Number 11

2010-11-19T20:54:00.003Z

Number 11 from the list. Making toffee is really hard, as it seems to go from 'too runny' to 'burnt' in about five seconds.

I've also done number 30 on a rare date night with Mr Meep. Jamie's was sublime and surprisingly veggie-friendly. We had the full works. Yum.

The Highs and Lows of Autumn

2010-11-08T15:02:00.003Z

On sunny autumn days, we go looking for fairies...

On rainy autumn days, we stay home and bake...

But today, I'm at home with two floppy, snotty, sick children and not feeling too clever myself. So we are flopping about, snuggling under my nan's Welsh wool blanket, drinking lots of Roibos tea, reading endless stories and watching Mary Poppins. I may also have consumed half a pack of chocolate Hob Nobs.

The Great Fish Eye Incident

2010-11-05T14:43:00.004Z

I've been photographing dishes for a charity recipe book over the last few months. It's been so much fun - I've met all kinds of people from all over the world, been invited to people's homes to photograph and chat to them while they're cooking, then - best of all - got to eat with them at the end.

My friend L and I have eaten the most amazing freshly-fried felafel; an enormous, delicious Palestinian feast; a crazy Egyptian carb-fest involving pasta and rice together; a sticky cake from Georgia... actually maybe this explains why I've put on a few pounds of late.

Anyway, the whole thing has just been fab - apart from the incident with the Congolese food.

L and I are both veggie, so we've chosen to photograph the recipes that are veggie-friendly. Or if there's meat involved, we've brought someone else to eat with us, so we don't offend the host.

The day of the Congolese cookery session, we realised that the recipe involved fish. It was just the two of us, no-one was around during the day to come with us, so I made an executive decision that we should just crack on and eat some of it after it had been cooked. I have dabbled with fish-munching in the past, so didn't have a problem with a one-off fleshfest. L was not so convinced, but said she'd just close her eyes and pretend it was alfalfa sprouts or something.

So off we pootled to the cooking session. Betty, the cook, had all the ingredients out on the kitchen counter - aubergines, spring onions, peppers, garlic, something called cassava leaves that looked a bit liked spinach...

The recipe involved a kind of veggie curry, the fish served separately, then some rice. Perfect. We could just have tons of rice and curry then a little bit of fish.

Betty started chopping and I started snapping. It all looked so fresh and inviting and lovely. Until she got a bag out of the fridge with two whole fish in it. Two whole fish with eyes and gaping mouths. Two whole fish that she proceeded to slice open and pull the insides out off - placing them in the kitchen sink.

L looked a bit pale. I was holding my breath and trying not to gag.

I moved over to the pan of frying veggies, which smelled all garlicky and lovely. Betty came over to give it a stir and add some more ingredients. She had a huge carton of something red. It has African writing on it, so I couldn't see what it was, but it looked like some sort of tomato puree. Betty picked up the carton and poured tons of it it into the veg - about half of the 2-litre bottle.

Betty didn't speak much English, so I asked her friend what it was. "Oh, it's palm oil'" he said. Oh. A whole litre of oil. In one dish. Oh.

Betty obviously didn't think it was oily enough, because she then grabbed some groundnut oil and added another half a litre of that. Eek.

So the lovely fresh veggie dish was now more like an oily vegetable soup. But there was one missing ingredient. Betty got two tins of Asda SmartPrice sardines out of the cupboard, smushed them up with a fork, then stirred them into the oil slick. Blee.

I started to lose my appetite.

A bit more cooking and a bit more photographing later and the feast was ready. Betty laid the table, we sat down, and she brought out three big serving dishes. One with rice, one with a greasy green sardiney sludge, and one with two whole fish, still with the eyes and the gaping mouths (albeit disguised by a bit of green pepper and onion).

Betty served us all. A huge mountain of rice, tons of the green stuff, and on the top - a fish head with eyes for me, a fish head with eyes for L.

I ate very slowly and gulped down an awful lot of water. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see L twirling the fish round and round with her fork.

Let's just say that we didn't have second helpings.

That night, I dreamt of fish eyes. I still had an oily residue in my mouth the next morning.

A few days later, Betty sent an email to us. "Thank you so much - it was such a privilege to cook for you. You are such enthusiastic people."

I'm thinking of applying to RADA.

The book's out in a few weeks - it'll be a great stocking filler (about £5), so watch this space for details of how to get one (you could even recreate this dish for yourself - yum!).

Number Two

2010-10-17T19:47:00.004+01:00

Number two from the list.

Yay, I did it. Managed to run most of it, even if it was very slowly, and finished it in 2 hours 55 minutes.

I'm elated but aching.

Next year, sub 2 hours 30. Bring it on (well, when I can actually walk again).

Thanks to everyone who sponsored me. And if you didn't, you can do it retrospectively here.

35 things

2010-10-03T20:58:00.006+01:00

Over a month since my birthday, but I've been mulling this list over while I've been going for a run. So here's what the next year might bring...

1. Go camping with the girls DONE - AMAZING! MORE OF THIS NEXT YEAR.
2. Complete the Cardiff half marathon DONE!
3. Enter a 10km race and run the whole thing
4. Live and run the household on less than £1800 per month NOT POSSIBLE, BUT DID IT ON £2K
5. Make some cushions for my lounge and bedroom DONE - WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY NAN.
6. List all the books I read this year DONE!
7. Plant a sunflower playhouse in the garden DONE - BUT IN THE WRONG SPOT. WILL DO ANOTHER ONE NEXT YEAR.
8. Learn to make prints in the darkroom DONE - MAGICAL!
9. Throw a party, just because DONE - THE EASTER SATURDAY AFTERNOON TEA PARTY WAS RATHER MARVELLOUS.
10. Go to London on a gallery trip DONE - SQUEEZED IN PORTRAIT GALLERY AND THE V&A ON A WORK TRIP.
11. Make toffee apples for Halloween DONE!
12. Declutter my house, one room at a time WORK IN PROGRESS. ADD TO NEXT YEAR'S LIST
13. Then go to a car boot sale and flog it all
14. Grow strawberries and raspberries STRAWBS YES, BUT NOT V SUCCESSFULLY. TRY AGAIN THIS YEAR.
15. Try to walk, swim, run or cycle every day DONE - GOT INTO A HABIT AND IT'S PART OF MY DAY, EVEN IF ONLY A STROLL WITH BLOD.
16. Paint a picture for Gwen's room
17. Pimp the horrible IKEA wardrobe on our landing
18. Make elderflower champagne/cordial
19. Try to buy everything secondhand DONE - LOVE EBAY!
20. Have afternoon tea DONE!
21. Go to the theatre more DONE - FAVS WERE CIRKUS CIRKOR AND AVENUE Q.
22. Write more poetry DONE! 'THE TIDY UP SONG' (WITH MUSIC BY DAVE) IS A FAMILY CLASSIC.
23. Take more photos DONE!
24. Lose the baby belly ERM...
25. Have a night away somewhere with Mr Meep
26. Toast marshmallows on a bonfire - CHEATED AND DID IT INDOORS ON OUR LOUNGE FIRE ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE.
27. Make more interesting breads DONE - YAY FOR THE BREAD MACHINE.
28. Find the perfect winter coat NO BUT FOUND A WHITE FLUFFY ONE THAT I LOVE.
29. Have a monthly date night DONE!
30. Eat at Jamie's Italian - DONE! ABOUT FOUR TIMES.
31. Buy new underwear - DONE!
32. Photograph a pregnant woman
33. Climb the Garth alone once a month
34. Invest in some decent waterproofs COAT DONE, BUT STILL NEED TROUSERS.
35. Write letters

Cupcake love

2010-09-10T21:33:00.002+01:00

Banana spiced cupcakes with cream cheese vanilla icing by Emma and Gwen.

Do pop in for one. I'll put the kettle on.

All happiness and sparkliness and loveliness

2010-09-06T19:43:00.005+01:00

AKA The post with way too many exclamation marks

I got the job - wee-hee! I am the part-time in-house journalist/copywriter at a drama school/arts venue. I have wanted to work in the arts for a yonk and it's sooo hard to get in, but now - I'm in. We will be penniless but happy.

Gwen is officially being unschooled until further notice. Yay! I may start her in reception class next autumn, she may go to Steiner for a few mornings after Christmas, I might just keep her home until she's five, six, seven... who knows?

I got 75% for my photography module - an A! Whoop, whoop!

I had a lovely birthday with loads of fab cards and pressies - a Pip cup and saucer, lots of Teapigs, books and chocolate, and a fab Crumpler camera bag and a flash. I'm a lucky lady.

I've also had an amazing holiday in Yorkshire with glorious sunshine and a couple of meet-ups with the very lovely and mumpety family Atom.

On the flip side, I weighed myself and since the small ginger shouty one has gone off the mama milk, I have piled on the pounds. Am I the only woman in history to gain the baby weight when the baby's turned one? Note to self: When the baby starts eating food, you need to stop scoffing cakes (well, some of them anyway).

Motivate me

2010-08-24T12:46:00.004+01:00

Hello lovely people.

It's less than two months until I run the Cardiff Half Marathon to raise money for the Hardship Fund at Welsh Refugee Council.

I am slightly flabby, very unfit and pushing 35.

Oh dear.

Your money could help a creaky-kneed jogger to get fit enough to complete the course without collapsing. Just £10 will get her in her trainers and running on the old railway track, instead of slumped on the sofa with a cuppa and some cake. £20 could even see her wrapped up in a giant piece of tin foil with a big smile on her face at the end.

You can sponsor me here.

Please give anything you can to give me the motivation to get training. I don't think strolling around the park with the dog really counts.

You will be rewarded with good karma and feel-good vibes all day long.

Thanks in advance.

x

The Meep Harvest Festival

2010-08-21T20:23:00.004+01:00

When we moved into our house 2 years ago, we inherited a jungle of a garden with an enormous fig tree. Last year, I made fig and port sorbet, but never got much further as I was getting to grips with the whole newborn/toddler combo.

This year, I have been so excited watching the figs ripen and couldn't wait to crack on with some fig-related cooking. And first of all, fig jam. In fact, the first batch of jam I have ever made. Ever. And it tastes yum-diddly-umtious.

I've also been tackling those unharvested courgettes and have made some marrow chutney. And now it's hedgerow harvest time, we have gone apple and blackberry bonkers. I have a tart in the oven, a crumble in the fridge and the most amazing-looking kilner jar of blackberry vodka doing its thing on the kitchen worktop. Next up, rose hip syrup. I love August.

Muslim for a day

2010-08-16T20:56:00.005+01:00

Although I don't follow any particular religion, I like a bit of pick 'n' mixing fom them all. I take a sprinkling of mindfullness from Buddhism, add a handful of Pagan seasonal festivals, a dollop of world peace from Baha'i, a dash of vegetarianism from the Hindus and Seikhs and a sprinkle of singing from the Welsh chapels to taste.

But 15 years of catholic education put me off organised religion for life. I'm a humanist instead. I believe in kindness, equality, empathy, gratitude and general mumpetness - all the good stuff that you get from religion, but without the divine power stuff.

Despite this, I find religion absolutely fascinating.

My friend H is I suppose what you'd call a reformed Muslim - brought up as a Muslim, he fell spectacularly off the wagon in his uni days and now, at the ripe old age of thirtysomething has gone back to his Islamic ways.

As it's Ramadan at the moment, H is fasting. No food or water from sunrise to sunset. Every single day. For 30 days. Cripes.

Curious about all things religious, I was cross examining him about it last week. Why do it? What's it all about? How on earth do they manage it? Don't they feel ill? He explained the idea of Ramadan being a time for reflection, thinking of those who are hungry every single day, the feel-good factor when you taste that first bit of food after sunset. He thinks that everyone should give it a try for just one day.

So, as an exercise in self-control, empathy and gratitude, I said I'd do it. And today was the day. My usual Monday morning involves a huge bowl of porridge with nuts and seeds and all kinds of yummies thrown in. There'd be lots of fruit for snacking, a nice big houmous/avocado sandwich at lunchtime and the obligatory little sweet treat at about 2pm. Today - nothing. Just me and the sound of my hungry belly.

At first, it wasn't too bad. By lunchtime, I was struggling a bit. By the time I was preparing the girls a delicious bowl of pasta pesto and green veggies for their tea, I was salivating. By 7.30, I was ready to start chomping on Blod.

At 8.40pm, the fast was over. I lit a candle, served up a simple sweet potato curry and rice, turned off the I-Pod and ate in silence by candlelight. It was calm, peaceful and all about the food. I appreciated every single mouthful.

Amen to that.

Good things, bad things

2010-08-15T08:27:00.005+01:00

Bad thing: Feeling like my life is one big chaotic mess, with no time to do anything, and doing everything that I can fit in really badly.

Good thing: Sweet things from my big girl remind me that the chaos doesn't matter: "I like you and you like me - but who is the loveliest?"

Bad thing: My new haircut is a disaster, making me feel even more minging than I did before.

Good thing: I managed to run (with a smidge of walking on the really steep bits) 3 miles last night.

Bad thing: I despise my haggered face and post-baby body shape.

Good thing: But I met a lovely young man this week who thought I was 27.

Bad thing: Still having dilemma about whether to send G to school in September (it's full-time every day for the nursery class here - she's only three!) and sick of every other person telling me she's bored with me at home and "she needs it".

Good thing: A neighbour saying "you're such a fab mum", just at the right moment.

Bad thing: Impending redundancy from part-time job.

Good thing: But have interview for another, much groovier one on Thursday.

And amidst all the chaos, there is always chai, books, baths and cake.

Happier blogging will resume shortly.

Things I would like for my birthday

2010-08-09T21:47:00.005+01:00

I am turning - gulp - 35 in a few weeks. You're probably wondering what to buy me. Here's a handy list to help you make up your mind.

Anything from my Amazon wishlist, especially some vegan cookery books
A big huge cake (carrot, of course)
A flash for my camera
Subscription to a photography magazine
Voucher for a go in the Harrogate baths
Some cute hair clips
My fave Montezumas Orange and Geranium chocolate
Theatre vouchers
Goodies from Neal's Yard
Another baby (just casually slipping that one on the end of the list there... la, la, la...)

Mothers and Daughters

2010-08-01T21:14:00.005+01:00

Phew, after eight weeks of trying to fit in looking after two tinies, working, freelancing and completing my photography project, I've done it.

10 images of Mothers and Daughters are here.

This project's really suffered from my lack of technical knowledge, especially photographing in low light, but I'm generally happy with it (although, met up with the rest of the people on my course yesterday and their stuff was waaaay better than mine).

Need another project now. Any ideas?

10 Things Molly Has Eaten Recently

2010-07-28T21:14:00.005+01:00

Cute, eh? But wait 'til you hear what's she's been chowing down on when my back's turned for - ooo - all of five seconds.

Suncream
Vaseline - swiped from the shelf in Boots
A piece of white chalk
A piece of pink chalk
Some very small pebbles
Some old ham from a discarded sandwich (someone else's)
Most of the mud in my garden
Half the beach
A fag butt
A dead fly

ETA 11. A marigold 12. A bar of soap

Close, but no biscuit

2010-07-24T17:20:00.005+01:00

Been to the Photomarathon exhibition today. I didn't win anything, but there were lots of dots stuck on my entry, so I asked what they meant. One was to say I was in the final 60 (out of 400!) for my overall portfolio, the next meant I got through to the final 30 (eek!) and the other meant I was shortlisted as a category winner (eep!). I'm over the bloomin' moon.

Gwen was chuffed to see her nose on display in a public exhibition.

Next year, world domination...

Babies in a pod

2010-07-21T22:09:00.004+01:00

I'm going to photograph some baby twins tomorrow for a project I'm doing on Mothers and Daughters. Doing a bit of research, I came across this bundle of cuteness from an amazing American photographer (who also actually gets to photograph actual births!).

I am squeaking with delight while typing this.

Broody, me? Nah, don't know what you're talking about...

What with Moll now officially being a toddler (she walks!), we know have no babies in the house. Boo. And indeed, hoo.

In other news, I am am starting my training to be an antenatal teacher in September. I'm so excited. I love birth. I love babies. Yay!

How to Survive a Rainy Sunday

2010-07-19T22:37:00.005+01:00

Dress up in fairy dresses, set up a tripod and take a series of self portraits
Eat lots of coffee and walnut cake
Drink lots of chai
Make a cup of beans with a toastcuit for dunking
Write a silly poem about tidying up
Get your husband to write a tune for it
Make monsters out of PVA, googly eyes and glitter

See, you really don't need a telly.

The Tidy Song
Pick up the tea set
Pick up the blocks
Don't forget the cars
And that smelly old sock
Grab that pile of teddies
Move that manky apple core
Scoop that half-chewed custard cream
Off the blinking floor

Chorus
Let's tidy up
It's tidy time
Get stuff cleared away
It's time to move the mess
That we made all bloomin' day
Let's tidy up
It's tidy time
It's time to go to bed
And then we'll make the same old mess again

Verse 2
Let's de-glitter the table
Put your drawers back in the drawer
Let the cat out of the wardrobe
He's not hiding anymore
Squashed strawberries on the sofa
Splattered paint all up the wall
Sometimes it seems as if
We'll never tidy up at all

Chorus
Let's tidy up
It's tidy time
Get stuff cleared away
It's time to move the mess
That we made all bloomin' day
Let's tidy up
It's tidy time
It's time to go to bed
And then we'll make the same old mess again

Date night

2010-07-01T20:13:00.004+01:00

Last night, the little croutons stayed with Nanna and Bampa, so Mr Meep and I had a rare date night.

On my way home from work, I stocked up on lovely M&S picnic goodies, like melt-in-the-mouth marinated artichokes and stuffed (di)vine leaves and olives and all kinds of yummies. I got home, we stuck it all in a rucksack, filled our little Kleen Kanteens with sauv blanc (me) and wheat beer (him), and trekked 45 minutes from our house up to the top of the Garth mountain in the sunshine.

On the way up we picked wild strawberries from the hedgerows, trod in a cowpat (me) and said hello to lots of sheep.

We picnic-ed at the top while looking across Cardiff and over the Bristol Channel. As we were finishing our picnic, we watched fireworks going off in Cardiff Bay.

It was perfect.

Happy Birthday Molly

2010-06-21T19:29:00.003+01:00

DISCLAIMER: This post is not for the feint hearted.

I wonder how many people have this on their kitchen chalk boards?

Yesterday was Molly's 1st birthday. As she was too little for pressies, we marked the occasion with a little ceremony in the garden, where we buried her placenta under a blueberry bush (her favourite fruit).

It was warm and sunny, just like the night she was born just a few feet away in our bedroom.

And just like the night she was born, we had a little toast to Molly and ate some cake.

My friend B says it's all a bit "knit your own lentils".

Happy birthday, my summer solstice sunshine girl.
x

Photomarathon 2010

2010-06-13T17:17:00.005+01:00

Yesterday, I took part in my first ever Photomarathon, probably the most mentally gruelling creative challenge ever, ever.

Basically, you get 12 topics in 12 hours and you have to produce 12 photos, no more no less. You pick up four topics every four hours, then get free bus and rail travel to whizz all over Cardiff taking pics.

Sounds lovely, but actually very hard and very tiring (but lots of fun). I went everywhere from Cardiff Bay Asda to Penarth Pier to Roath Park looking for inspiration. Last night I even had a recurring dream about trying to photograph a topic.

Here are my pics, and these were the topics.
1. Your entry number and giant 2. Aroma 3. On a shoe string 4. Inspiration 5. Up in the air 6. Arc 7. Seven 8. Fail 9. Old school 10. Contemporary 11. Backwards 12. Identity

I also tried to make mine fit together as a set, by including something red in each one. Talk about making it hard for myself.

Don't think I'll win any prizes, but I had a great day out. Can't wait for the exhibition in July and see what everyone else came up with.

And today? Been to the beach, painted 15 children's faces at Gwen's friend's birthday party (have progressed from butterflies and cats and now can do Spiderman and vampires too). Now off to Mr Meep's gig (he's in a gothic psychadelic folk band, don't ya know).

But first, the children are at nana's, so it's Earl Grey and the Observer on the sofa. And a little bit of my lovely chocolate vegan cake (you would never tell it was not the real thing).

3 encounters with James Dean Bradfield

2010-06-10T10:13:00.002+01:00

The reason I like Cardiff is, even though it's a city, it's small enough to have a community feel. There are circles that we mix in and people that we see all the time. There's the arty crowd from Chapter, voluntary sector workers, baby-wearing Steiner mammas... Wherever you go, you see people you know or familiar faces. (And if you go to the Farmers Market on a Sunday, you see all of them).

One person who seems to hang around in all the same places as us is James Dean Bradfield.

Encounter Number 1
It was New Year's Eve 1999 - the night the Manics were to play their Manic Millennium gig at the Millennium Stadium. Mr Meep and I went into town to do a bit of shopping - never my favourite activity. It was packed,
I had that horrible winter feeling of cold outside = thick coats = overly central heated shops = hot cross Meep. Everyone was pushing and shoving and rushing about. I had an existential crisis about the futility of the human condition (this happens every time I go to shops, especially Asda). In the midst of all the chaos, someone showed me that it wasn't all bad. Grappling through hoards of people trying to get into the Gap sale, someone stepped back, held the door open, smiled and said "After you." It was James Dean Bradfield.

Encounter Number 2
Fast forward to 2008 and Gwen about 18 months old. She's just got her first pair of shoes and, as with socks before them, her favourite game is to pull them off and fling them at passers by. We are in M&S stocking up on picnic food. Again, I've got a shop-on as it's lunch time and busy. Gwen doesn't care, she's busy yanking her shoes off. She struggles with one for ages, eventually gets it off and lobs it out of the side of the pushchair. It hits a bloke in the back. He turns round. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I say. "No problem'" he says and smiles. It was James Dean Bradfield.

Encounter Number 3
Tuesday night, I was at my photography class. It's break time and I'm faffing about at the cafe counter, pondering the merits of a soy hot chocolate versus a peppermint tea, and wondering whether to get the cookie with the smarties or the white choc chips. A couple behind me are looking at the menu too - I think they've got their eye on the curry of the day. I let them go before me. The man says "Thanks" and smiles. Who was it? Why, it was James Dean Bradfield.

What lovely manners he has.

Gwen is Three

2010-05-26T21:18:00.007+01:00

Dear Gwen,
Wow, you are now a bona fide little girl. The baby stage is long gone and the toddler years are a dwindling memory.

You are a long-limbed, articulate 3-year-old girlie girl who likes:

Boily eggs
Dancing to songs on the iPod (current fav: Best of You by the Foo Fighters)
Getting nakey
Having a shower
Making up nonsense words
Wearing dresses, especially if they twirl
Talking - a lot

Your catty
Telling people your name
Whispering about naughty things like spitting and smacking
Your cousin Emily
Baking bread
Making cakes
The seaside
Picnics
Knickers

You don't like:
Bees, flies and other buzzy things
Trousers
Soya milk

You are most likely to say:
"I'm going to wear something from my Summer Collection, I am."
"Can I wear your dress when I'm a bit bigger?"
"Shall we have a little chill out?"
"Actually Mammy, I'm going to have breakfast FIRST, then get dressed AFTER."
"Can I spit when I brush my teeth? Is that OK? Yes?"

You say funny things every single day. You breastfeed your teddies. You make imaginary games out of random objects. You like Emmy the Great's debut album. You tell me off if I'm grumpy.

You rock.

Happy birthday, snail.

Love, Mama
x

11 months

2010-05-14T15:31:00.006+01:00

Dear Molly,
You are almost 11 months old and you have sunshine in your soul. Every day you cwtch and snuzzle and grin and coo and giggle and explore and make the cutest little noises as you get to know the world.

You learnt to crawl at 8 months and have now progressed to pulling yourself up on things and bouncing up and down with excitement at your new-found abilities.

Your gurgles and shouts are also getting a bit more communicative. Pulling toys out of a box is accompanied by a sort of 'Ta-da!' sound and things you like the look of at lunchtime are met with an inquisitive 'Oooooo' noise.

You like playing peek-a-boo, tearing up paper with your teeth, crawling around with socks and teddies in your mouth (just like Blod), playing the bongos, climbing up my legs, strumming the guitar, cake (oops), Blod's water bowl, dancing when you hear music, digging the soil in the garden with your fingers, trying to put your hands in the toilet bowl, clapping, exploring the vegetable drawer of the fridge, and eating sand at the beach.

In fact, for someone so sweet, you can be a bit unsavoury. The other morning you did a stinky poo, then weed on the carpet as soon as I took your nappy off, then did a huge burp, then sneezed and produced two green snot trails, then sicked up over me - all within about half an hour.

But whatever you get up to, you just have to flash me your big gummy grin and all is forgiven, my stinky, sunshine girl.

Love,
Mama
x

Making me smile

2010-05-06T15:51:00.003+01:00

Cute summer shoes
Nakd bars
Marina and the Diamonds (especially when Gwen sings along)
The expression 'mooching about'
Dreaming of a cohousing community
Weekend food swaps with my neighbour
Notebook gorgeousness (the pages are pink!)
Two small people napping in the afternoons - at the same time

Gwenisms

2010-05-05T20:26:00.002+01:00

When I'm a bit bigger I'm going to have pink contact lenses, made of strawberries

Is there milk in your boobs? Is it cow's milk or soya milk?

This t-shirt hasn't got any armsleeves

Are you wearing a milkbra?

Where's that snail gone? Has he slimed away?

An Amelie Moment

2010-05-03T09:17:00.003+01:00

As I seem to be incapable of taking nice pictures of my family, I've enrolled on a Photographing People course. This week, we looked at self portraits and I came over all Amelie Poulin.

The sun is shining...

2010-04-20T22:16:00.001+01:00

And we are so chuffed about it.

Oh how I wish I was Sophie Dahl

2010-03-30T20:36:00.007+01:00

Oh how my life would be perfect if I could just be Sophie Dahl.

Gorgeous Sophie.

So incredibly beautiful.

Articulate and intelligent.

Those amazing eyes.

An impressive selection of dresses.

Writes rather lovely novels.

And now, she cooks as well.

Oh, how my life would be perfect if I could just be Sophie Dahl.

(And she's named after my favourite lentil-based Indian dish.)

No, I have absolutely not been eating the sand

2010-03-26T19:43:00.003Z

No, I have absolutely not been eating the cake mix

Office Bollotics

2010-03-24T20:13:00.006Z

Water coolers
Crap coffee
Notes in the kitchen
"Wash your dishes"
"Clean your mess up"
Stabbing backs and bitching

Last night's telly
Weekend weather
What you had for supper
Lottery sweepstake
Dodgy jokes
Must be time for a cuppa

Flourescent lighting
Much too hot
Boss you'd like to punch
Narky emails
Energy slump
Great, it's time for lunch

Back to it
Heads down
As much fun as a wake
Sneaky surfing
Facebook status
Anyone got any cake?

Looking busy
Time dawdling
Tick tick tock
Inane chatter
Brain mashup
Thank god it's 5 o'clock

Making me smile

2010-03-18T20:41:00.005Z

Evening trips to the beach now the days are longer
Sweet potato and tamarind soup
My friend C's amazing, almost-popped bump
... and her belly cast (so doing one of those next time)
Digging the veg patch in the sunshine
Cups of roibos on the bench under the holly tree
One Born Every Minute
Blood oranges in the veg box
Molly getting a whole new perspective on life as she crawls around the house

There's a worm at the bottom of my garden

2010-03-16T21:50:00.006Z

Gwen has been helping me in the garden. She especially loves - the worms.

These are Debbie, Nic (named after our friends), Emily, Ralphi (after her cousins) and Wiggly Woo (you know, like the song about the worm).

In other snail-related news, after a hard morning's bread baking and gardening and park-going, we sometimes have a chill-out for 20 minutes after lunch and watch a couple of music videos on You Tube. Current favourites are Madness videos and she's a bit partial to Nizlopi's JCB song. Yesterday though, she announced "I want to see some ladies singing."

I racked my brains. Tried Girls Aloud - not impressed. Forgetting the saucy nature of it, I tried Lady Marmalade from Moulin Rouge. "Oh look," she said, pointing at L'il Kim writhing around in her grundies, "that lady has forgotten her dress." I swiftly clicked off that one.

Hmm, what could I find for her? She previously had a thing for Mana Mana and she wants ladies singing. Suddenly, it came to me. I remembered this...

I laughed all the way through it. She absolutely loved it. She's been asking to watch it all day long and proudly declared "I know the words" earlier, while wagging her finger and singing along. And she got very cross with me and Mr Meep when we laughed at the lovely ladies.

Oh dear. I have created a monster.

I love Sundays

2010-03-07T20:09:00.003Z

A lie in until nine
Banana pancakes and coffee
Digging over the veggie patch
Chatting to lovely neighbours
Gwen finding worms in the soil
Roibos tea on the patio
Home-made cake in the oven
Devouring The Observer
Off to the farm shop for Earl Grey and carrot cake and watching the chickens
Take the scenic route back home
Dancing in the kitchen
Babies fast asleep
7pm snacks of wasabi peas and Leffe
Pumpkin tagine almost ready
And an early night with a good book (and more tea, of course)

The Magic Forest

2010-03-02T20:38:00.003Z

My mum had a 'practice run' of looking after to the two croutons today, so me and Blod went for a long walk and found this enchanted wood with a babbling brook. And if you look really carefully, I'm sure you can see some fairies hiding in there.

Welcome back

2010-03-01T20:16:00.005Z

Happy St David's Day
Happy Spring
Happy, happy everything

Sun in the sky. Playing in the park without gloves and hats. Lambs in the fields. Daffodil bulbs poking through the soil. Washing drying outside on the washing line. Welcome back, Lady Spring. It's great to see you.

8 months

2010-02-28T21:47:00.005Z

Dear Molly,
You so want to crawl. As soon as I sit you on the floor, in the blink of an eye, you're on your belly, commando crawling your way towards some unsuitable object in the distance. In the last few days, you've even mastered getting up onto all fours and rocking back and forth, as if you're gaining momentum ready for take off. Any day now you'll be off and able to explore all those things you've been wondering about for the last 8 months. Meanwhile, you're fascinated with bits of fluff that you find on the floor, and especially enjoy pulling clumps out of Gwen's fluffy bedroom rug and trying to eat them.

I left weaning until fairly late, but once you'd got hold of some food, you just couldn't get enough. As soon as you sit in your high chair and see food coming your way, you cry until it's actually in your mouth. Tea today, for example, was a whole banana, a whole blood orange (you are all about the oranges), plus cheese on toast - that's a lot of food for a very small stomach.

As well as oranges, you love potatoes, going on the swings in the park, Blod, dancing around the kitchen, the This Little Baby book, baths and boxes.

We've noticed you've got this whole communicating through the medium of arm wiggling thing going on at the moment. You cautiously move your arms and wiggle your fingers in an "Hmm, that looks quite interesting" kind of way, progressing to more of a flapping motion when something's definitely taken your fancy, then a full-on 'wave your hands in da air' kind of movement sometimes accompanied by a shriek for real excitement (like oranges).

After only a few hours apart in the last 8 months, I have to go back to work in 3 weeks. I'm going to be out of the house for three days a week - I'm sorry. I would so love to stay at home squeezing your thighs and giving you a big hard kisses on the fat cheeks every day, but I'm sure your Daddy and Nana and Bampa will do that too. I'll miss you so much, my gorgeous Turtle.

Every day, I say to your Daddy, "She's a delight". And you delight me every single day, my happy, chilled-out, beautiful baby girl.

Love, Mama
x

On jobs

2010-02-26T22:09:00.005Z

Going back to work in three weeks - bah. Looking forward to the social aspect, really like the people I work with and passionate about the cause we're championing. But, boy, I am going to miss the two petite croutons for three days of the week. And slightly concerned about how Molly, AKA The Limpet, is going to cope - especially as she is going through a phase of screeching as soon as I dare to go out of her sight. Even a dash into the pantry to grab her another rice cake is a cause for tears.

Ok, I'm lucky. They're being looked after by Mr Meep and the Grandparents. It's good for them to bond with the rest of the family and good for me to get a bit of 'me' back, but I'm going to miss our days of baking and hanging around in parks and going for a cuppa/apple juice/breastmilk in a cafe and playing in the garden and bouncing on the bed and dancing around the kitchen to Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.

Oh dear, I'm feeling all teary just thinking about it. I'll just have to fit all those things into the other four days of the week instead.

Anyway, to take my mind to other places, here's a list of jobs I've had.

Fairground ride operator

Summer job in Maryland, USA. Highlights included me running over a scary mulleted mom's ankle by starting the ride while she was still putting little Brittney on it, her going nuts, and me having to be hidden at the back of the Fun House for the rest of the week because she wanted my BLOOD.

Call centre robot

Almost too painful to talk about. Walking to work every day, I'd pass a man washing cars by hand in the freezing cold and I would wish I was him. One day the intellectually-challenged team leader came into the ladies while I was mid-wee and screeched - "Get back in here, there are CALLS IN THE QUEUE!". The calls were about the life-threatening emergency that is a credit card machine on the blink.

Butlin's worker

I got so drunk the night before my first day that I slept through my alarm and they sent the scary boss to my chalet (which had been condemned to be demolished in 1985) to wake me up.

Deputy editor of a motoring magazine

Yup, still confuses me too.

Cake pedlar

And, my favourite job of all? When I was 17, I worked on a cake stall! I was doing my A-levels, had a great crowd of cider-drinking, Indie-rock loving, nasally-pierced, henna-headed mates who'd come to visit me hoping for a free cream horn. The stall was on a market and my other mates worked on the flowers and the meat and the fruit 'n' veg (as did Sir Kelly of Stereophonic, who was very short, liked heavy metal and always bought a 15p mini-pasty from me for his lunch). The downside was that we had a meagre 50p allowance for lunch (which wasn't a lot even by 1993's standards), so there was a distinct lack of freebies. Unless of course, I 'accidentally' stuck my finger into the odd strawberry tart or had a squashing incident with a coffee puff. Ah, those were the days.

Mysteries of Life

2010-02-16T20:05:00.004Z

Last week I went into Molly's room at 7.30am to find her in her cot on all fours grinning at me... in just her nappy. She had wiggled out of a vest, a babygrow and a sleeping bag without undoing any of the poppers on any of the items of clothing. The clothes were still all inside one another, just without the baby inside. Answers on a postcard please...

The Day I Decided to Get a Cleaner

2010-02-02T21:34:00.004Z

Dear Gwen and Molly,
I just want to let you know why I decided to spend the child benefit on getting a little bit of help around the house.

I could save it for when you're bigger and need cash for house buying or uni or something equally sensible. I could use it to buy you clothes, but you have drawers full of beautiful hand-me-downs and you're not old enough to care. I could buy toys with it, but you're happier with a pile of blankets and pillows (Gwen) and a few kitchen implements (Molly).

So instead, I am investing it in a different sort of way. You see, at the moment, I love being with you two, but I spend most of the day with a little niggly thought at the back of my mind. A little voice on my head is saying "Look at the floor, it's filthy. You need to Hoover the stairs. Oo, look at those dust bunnies under the sofa. The bathroom is mingtastic." All day long, I wonder when I will get time to clean, when my days are spent with you lovelies, my evenings are spent washing and tidying up and cooking lovely healthy food (and cakes) for the next day, and occasionally actually sitting and talking to your Dad or having a night out with one of my lovely lady friends.

We have a doggy who you both love very much, but is very hairy, trails mud through the house and chews up sticks on the lovely stripy rug.

We cook. A lot. We make bread and cakes. It's messy. There's flour all over the kitchen.

We craft. And you love glitter. So there are sparkly bits all over the floorboards.

We eat cake in the lounge in the afternoon and there are sticky fingerprints and crumbs on the sofa.

Baby-led weaning results in lots of sweet potato and spaghetti being flung around the dining room.

You splash about in the bath and the bathroom floor gets all mucky.

In short, I live a charmed life. It's just a little bit... dirty.

So I've decided to face facts. It's important to me that I spend time with my family, cook you all nutritious food, spend lots of time messing about outside, do lots of nice things like photography and cooking and gardening and meeting friends and reading and writing and watching films and eating Thai curry with Daddy Dave. And I can't do those and have a clean house too. But I also can't get full enjoyment from those things with the cobwebs quite literally looming over me either.

I'm not lazy, honest. I actually like cleaning. Bit of loud music, bucket of hot, soapy water and a old-fashioned stringy mop and I'm happy as can be. And I could put you in front of a DVD for an hour while I went off to do that. But I don't want to do that. Because I like spending time with you. And that's worth a million dust bunnies.

So we will welcome the fifth member of our family this Thursday - Lynne the cleaner. I can't wait.

Love, Mama
x

Feeling blah

2010-01-22T22:10:00.007Z

I need to de-ming. Look at this 'stunna' that Mr Meep married 6 years ago.

And look at the horror I have become.

Back in the day, I ate the healthiest ever diet, with home-made supersmoothies, tons of veg and gallons of water. I walked 3 miles and swam half an hour every day, walked the dog for miles, plus managed to fit in about three aerobics classes a week too. Blimey. I was toned, I was fit, I was glowing with health and vitality. I was like a poster girl for Howies (only not very pretty and about 10 years too old).

Today, I eat too much dark chocolate and too much cake. I amble about in parks a lot, but at The Snail's pace. I walk the dog in the half hour of precious time I can squeeze into Mr Meep's lunch hour. Swimming is a distant memory. I am flabby, I am unfit, I am grey with tiredness and lethargy. Looks wise, I am the very definition of the anti-mumpet.

And so, a plan of action is in order. And, of course, a nice list.

Hair
Same old, same old - trying to grow out highlights for eco/frugal reasons (and I hate going to the hairdressers so much), but at that horrid stage of half bleurgh, half blonde stage that normally gets me running to the salon.
Dr Meep prescribes: A positive attitude. Must get through this with vision of glossy red bob that I could have by my birthday in August. Meanwhile, be glad it's hat season.

Face
I last slept for a whole night in May 2009 (eek!) and I look tired and old. My skin is kind of grey, very dry and I have enormous eye bags and even the start of some crow's feet. Blee.
Dr Meep prescribes: Bed by 11pm without fail. Weekly 'beauty night' in the bath. Invest in some kind of 'heavy-duty but not full of evil chemicals' eye cream (is there such a thing?).

Diet
I have eaten way too much rubbish since I had Moll, what with breastfeeding being the best calorie burner ever. But now she's starting to eat some solids and she's cutting back on the milk, I need to cut back on the cakes. Our diet is generally great, but we do like our baked goods and the chocolate tin sees a lot of action when the little croutons are in bed.
Dr Meep prescribes: 90% vegan diet, lots more fruit, lots less cakes (sob).

Figure
OK, I'll admit I'm not overweight. But I am incredibly wobbly. When Gwen and I made jelly butterflies yesterday and sang 'jelly on a plate', I could feel every part of me wobbling along with that raspberry-flavoured pud. My stomach didn't really take a beating after baby number one, but after two, it resembles a lump of uncooked bread dough. Euw. Clearly, I am time-challenged these days, but I need to get moving, moving, moving.
Dr Meep prescribes: Daily power walks, weekly swimming, sit-ups at home and a return to my love-hate relationship with running once the light nights return.

Clothes
Usual, no clue about fashion plus no cash plus loathe shopping plus want to be an eco warrior. Same old looking a right old mess, but with added baby drool all over me.
Dr Meep prescribes: Hmm, not sure. Can someone nominate me to go on a TV makeover show please?

Right, that's sorted then. Off to get some sleep, swim 60 lengths, scrub my face with ground mung beans and eat an alfalfa on spelt sandwich.

Six (well, almost seven) months

2010-01-16T23:10:00.003Z

Dear Molly,

Already, I see, you are suffering from second child syndrome. Your sister had a monthly update for the whole of her first year. This is only your second.

In the last few weeks, you've gone from a quiet little person to one who is very fond of a good shout and a babble. You have two teeth, and I'm pretty sure the next two are about to pop through. You like raspberries on your thighs, being thrown in the air, grinning at yourself in mirrors, crumpling (and eating) paper, rustling plastic, exploring kitchen utensils and splashing in the bath. Although you've been lying under the mobile on your changing mat several times a day for the past six and a bit months, it stills drives you wild with excitement - especially now you can grab all the animals, yank them towards your mouth and give them a good old chew.

You don't like sleeves, lying on your back, your bouncy chair and realising I'm not in the room. You're totally happy and chilled as long as you're attached to me, but haven't quite worked out the rest of the world yet (but then neither have I, and I'm 33 years older than you). If a stranger grins at you, you give them a hesistant smile, then bury your head into my chest in a comedy shy stylee.

You still go everywhere in the sling and are happiest when you're cwtched up to me. Sometimes, I'll be going about my business and I'll look down to find you gazing up at me grinning your gummy little head off. And when I make eye contact, you beam even more and make the cutest cooing noises ever. You really know how to make a mama feel wanted.

You also think your big sister is just fantastic too. You let out a great big belly laugh when she does a big shouty 'Raaaaaaaaaaaah!' right up close to your face.

We've just started baby-led weaning. Well, I was is no rush, but when you swiped my toast off my plate over Christmas and stuck your cute little hand in my leek and split pea soup, I think maybe you were trying to tell me something. So we got the highchair down and away we go. So far, you're a huge fan of oranges and start shouting at me if I don't peel them fast enough after you've spotted one. Toast's always a winner too and today you devoured a load of roasted veg and a pile of pesto mash. (And, OK, I'll admit you have had a couple of chips too, which you naturally loved.)

I hope your first few months in the world have been good ones, my sweet little babe-in-arms. Here's to the next six months of extreme cuteness (with added crawling and first words and other exciting things to come) - I can't wait.

Love, Mama
x

Indie Rock Star in Training

2010-01-13T21:50:00.004Z

The Snail is so rock and roll. She stomps into the kitchen in her stripy tights and clumpy red boots (a bit like me circa 1993), demanding songs on the Ipod and ordering me/ Mr Meep/ Catty/ the dog to dance with her.

I've always refused to go down the route of children's CDs, with very real fears of being trapped in a traffic jam on the M1 with the Postman Pat theme tune on loop for five hours.

The result is a little girl with a playlist that John Peel would have been proud of.

Here's her current top 10:
Feist - 1,2,3,4
Lemonheads - Alison's Starting to Happen
Jeffrey Lewis - Roll Bus Roll
Elvis - Guitar Man
Madness - Our House
Editors - Munich
Ting Tings - Shut Up and Let Me Know
Hot Chip - Ready for the Floor
Antsy Pants - Vampire (from the Juno soundtrack)
The Kinks - You Really Got Me

She's not a fan of rap "I don't like the man talking" or guitar bands
"This song is not really nice". There was a brief obsessions with Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas over the festive season, but we'll gloss over that one. And she does have a bit of a penchant for Ultimate Kylie.

But all in all, not bad for 2-and-a-half.

On toileting

2009-12-09T21:32:00.004Z

You are sitting on the toilet, surrounded by a mountain of damp baby clothes on airers, an overflowing washing basket and a bath full of plastic ducks, watering cans and soggy Miffy flannels.

The baby is lying on a towel on the floor, cutting her first tooth, and screaming at you with a pleading look in her eyes that says "How can you possibly leave me down here on my own, you heartless woman?".

The toddler is pulling apart a toilet roll and rolling it into 'sausages' all over the floor. She stops her play and looks at you. "Is that a poo coming out Mammy? Can I see it?".

The dog comes in and just stares at you.

Ladies and gentlemen, your dignity has left the building.

Baby Legs

2009-12-03T21:01:00.004Z

The thing is about being a sling baby is that your legs can get awfully chillsome. No way do any kind of boots or shoes stay on your feet and there's always a gap where your trousers rise up. And let's face it, no amount of stripy tights are going to keep this December chill off your podgy little legs.

The solution? Baby leg warmers. Cute as can be and practical too. And as money is tight, I decided to make my own. Couldn't find a pattern anywhere, so made it up. And here they are... as modelled by a delighted Miss Molly Mumpet.

The pattern
To fit one exceptionaly cute and not really very fat 5-and-a-half month baby. Using Size 8 needles and double knitting wool.

Cast on 28 stitches
Rib stitch (knit two, purl two) for six rows
30 rows of stocking stitch
Six more rows of rib stitch
Cast off

They were all a bit experimental, so one's longer than the other, and one has actually come undone (it's been a while since I made anything). But now I've worked it out, I'm onto a second pair in bonkersly bright rainbow wool. Oh, the cuteness.

Christmas Countdown

2009-12-02T21:16:00.004Z

Let the stollen-munching commence (OK, let's face it, that started as soon as it hit the shops in early November).

I'm not even remotely religious, so for me, Christmas time is about celebrating the end of a year and the winter solstice, being grateful for what we have, seeing friends and family and, of course, cosying up under blankets on the sofa with mulled wine and a mince pie. I want a sort of kind of Pagan-meets-Thanksgiving vibe going on, but with added obligatory viewing of Love Actually on Christmas Eve.

Now The Snail's old enough to get excited about it all, I want to start some of our own family traditions and for Christmas to be about more than just the pressies. So to start with, instead of a chocolate-filled advent calendar, we've got our own way of counting down and getting excited.

I've made 24 stars, each with a Christmas activity on. We do one each day, then stick the star up on the wall. Today was 'Make a Christmas collage', and Gwen got very into the spirit of things by decorating most of the house and the dog with a glitter shaker. Also coming up are making lots of edible goodies, going on winter woodland walks, reading Christmas stories, making cards and decorations.

I can't wait.

A Tale of Two Toddler Groups

2009-11-26T21:23:00.006Z

Now that the weather has turned yuk, spending most of the day wombling about in the garden or the park, or walking in the woods or up the mountain is not such an appealing option.

I've always eschewed toddler groups, preferring to potter around at home with Gwen (any excuse to bake bread, dance around the kitchen and paint rainbows all morning). But I thought I'd check out a few for those days when it is just too torrential to venture out, I've exhausted all the craftivities I can think of and everyone's getting cabin fever.

The group in our village falls at nap time, so has never worked for us. But I saw a poster in the library for a group in the community centre in the next village. We thought we'd give it a go.

Toddler Group Number One
We arrived at a large hall, with the floor absolutely covered in plastic toys. Just plastic toys, and nothing else. There was no order to the toys. It was just a jumble of random objects. Among the plastic toys were some pretend McDonalds chips and burgers. Ok, I thought, maybe this is free play at the start, then they do something else.

They were serving tea and coffee at a little kitchen in the corner, so I went over to get us a drink. There were hot drinks for the parents and nothing at all for the children. "But she can have a snack," said the woman behind the counter, then showed me the selection. Toast made from value white bread, those pink wafer biscuits, or Jaffa cakes. Gwen was quite keen. I managed to distract her with some raisins and a smoothie I had stashed away in my bag.

She wandered off to play with the toys and the group organiser came over to chat. "I believe in providing a safe and stimulating environment for children to play," she said, "so we just leave them with the toys, then we have sing some songs at the end for five minutes." No stories, no dressing up clothes, no drawing, no books, no crafts, no music...

"And we've got some great stuff coming up before Christmas." She pointed to the stage, where there was a trestle table covered in novelty Christmas gifts. "This week, we've got gifts on sale. Next week, we're doing Avon, then The Chocolate Club..."

Gwen waded her way through the sea of phthalates. "Can we go now Mama?" I didn't need asking twice.

As we left, group leader was screeching "It's tidy time" and we left to the din of the plastic toys being thrown into huge plastic boxes. We could just make out the CD player in the corner, playing the Postman Pat theme tune, which had got stuck on the word "cat... cat... cat... cat...".

I went home and lay in a bath of organic mung bean oil, sipping fennel and patchouli tea and reading 'What breastpump?'.

Toddler Group Number Two
The next day, I met a friend for a cuppa and she said I should try the Steiner toddler group. Before kids and when were fancy-free city dwellers living the high life in Splott, I'd walked past the Steiner school every morning on my way to work.

I've always fancied trying it, but didn't fancy the trip into Cardiff in the traffic to get there for 10am. My fears were realised - we were late getting there, couldn't find anywhere to park, Moll was screaming for a feed and it was all a tad stressful.

But when we arrived, the stress vanished. If the Dalai Lama ran toddler groups, they'd be like this.

We took our shoes off at the door, then it was like walking into a lovely warm, calm and serene home. People smiled at me. Children played imaginatively with fabrics and knitted animals and simple wooden cars. There was a season table, play silks for dressing up, baskets of pine cones and shells, a comfy corner for reading. At a table in another corner, some other parents and littlies were chopping up vegetables to make a soup for snack time. "Everyone brings a piece of fruit and a vegetable," explained the group leader.

"Would you like drink?" she asked, pointing to a shelf of green and roibos and fruity teas that almost rivalled my own collection.

Then she explained how the group worked. "After free play, we sing a gentle song, while we tidy up. Next, we sit in a circle for traditional songs, then coats on to play outside in the garden, whatever the weather." I almost kissed her.

After we'd done all these things, we ALL sat down for snacks. No parents gossiping on the edge of the room, while the children ate. Instead we all sat together and shared a meal. We even had bread baked by the kids in the kindergarten upstairs.

I met some fab people - a photographer, a home-schooling mama, a family from Japan, a lovely Spanish lady, a snowboarding dad - and went home full of home-made soup and a warm, fuzzy glow.

Guess where Gwen and Molly will be going to school?

2009-11-01T21:45:00.003Z

Since having a new baby in the house, things have slipped. Our daily doses of fresh air, nature walks, home cooking, creativity and brain fodder have given way to sofa slobbing, CBeebies, chip shop Fridays (I never thought I'd be on first name terms with the local chipmonger) and chicklit (three Jane Green's in a row anyone?).

Poor Blod's had a few too many 'no walk' days; I've stuck G in front of a DVD when I've needed 20 minutes to tidy up; bean and cheese toasties have featured on the lunch menu more than once; my underwear isn't even close to being matching; and the house can often smell a bit like pets (eek!).

But now the newborn isn't a newborn anymore, I've given myself a good old outdoor, eco, frugal clonk on the head and I'm starting to get my groove back.

This weekend, I cooked and baked so our fridge is filled with yummy, healthy(ish) home-made treats. I made:

Pizzas
Pumpkin pie
Spinach and Squash lasagne
Leek and potato soup
Lentil Shepherd's pie
Banana pancakes

We've had friends over for dinner. I walked up the mountain (mountain, not hill - and my wobbly legs are all the proof I need). I've read a poetry book (oo, get me). I've knitted Gwen a sparkly scarf. I made my first ever pumpkin lantern. Mr Meep and I are even going out for dinner this week.

OK, so there's still too much chocolate being munched and the washing pile is taking over the house, but I'm getting there.

In other news, I'm tackling potty training with G. We've had a 90% success rate at home, culminating in her rushing into the dining room while we had friends round last night with a full potty, excitedly exclaiming "Look mama, I done a wee" then promptly spilling the whole lot all over the floor. Next up, daring to go out and about with a nappy-free toddler and a new(ish)baby at the same time. Eeek.

Confessions of a Meep

2009-10-19T20:21:00.006+01:00

OK, deep breath for confession time... My name is Emma and I am a chocoholic.

I didn't even used to like chocolate. In fact, I was all about the savoury. My hangover junk food of choice in my student days would have been a nice bag of salt 'n' vinegar Discos.

I blame Mr Meep, who has an impressive capacity for gobbling huge quantities of chocolate completely unnoticed (until I find the wrappers poking out of his jean pockets in the washing basket). His love of the brown stuff has gradually seeped into my consciousness and I've now become a fellow secret choc scoffer.

It used to be only the best stuff - just a square or two of dark, bitter organic. Then I moved on to milk chocolate - still the posh stuff and not much of it, so didn't feel too guilty. Then came the event that changed everything: the day that Mr Meep bought a bag of Giant Buttons for the cinema. One go of holding a giant disc in my mouth until it melted into sweet, creamy gorgeousness and I was hooked.

It's now reached a crisis point. These days, I find myself searching the cupboards for a little mid-morning fix. I invent excuses to go the village shop so I can grab a little after lunch pick-me-up.

And the worst thing? I'm hiding my habit from my family. All the while, I'm telling off Mr Meep when I discover Yorkie wrappers in the car and steering the snail towards a healthy diet of smoothies and fruit and veggies and all the good stuff. But she's not stupid, and for a two-and-a-half-year-old, her speech is pretty good, so there's no more getting away with it.

Just this morning, we were making bread. I went into the pantry to get some flour, and surreptitiously popped a bit of chocolate into my mouth. The snail immediately notices something's up.

"What you eating mama?"
"Er... nothing Gwen. Let's start kneading the dough."

Up on the kitchen counter...

"What's that chocolate smell, mama? You eating chocolate?"
"Um, no sweetie... Oh look out of the window - there's a squirrel."

What I should have really said is well, yes, actually - and it's your chocolate. The little bags of buttons I keep for those times when you fall over and are completely inconsolable. You are allowed one very occasionally, but when you're not looking, I shovel a bag full down my neck. Oh, the shame.

It's not just chocolate either - it's all kinds of sugary treats. Today's cavity-inducing itinerary involved:

One yummy home-made flapjack
The said chocolate buttons
Another flapjack
About 8 squares of Green and Blacks Maya Gold
Hot chocolate

Blimey, it looks even worse written down. I feel dirty inside.

Tomorrow, it's green smoothies, mung bean casserole and wheatgrass shots all round. Better go and finish those last few squares of G&B though - you know, to get them out of the way.

Four months

2009-10-18T21:42:00.004+01:00

Dear Molly,
You've been earthside for almost four months. Time is flying by and I can't believe the squishy squashy newborn stage has already passed and you're becoming a smiling, laughing, wiggling, peaceful little person.

As babies go, you're a pretty easy-going one. You only seem to cry when you need to sleep or eat. You're happy to sit on my lap or in the sling and watch the world go by. And for the last two nights, you have slept for 11 hours straight. Not that I go in for this whole thing about 'sleeping through' being the holy grail of modern parenting, but oh how a couple of full night's sleep have made me feel like a new woman.

I love the way you smile and cringe when I start to undress you, because you think I'm going to tickle under your arms. I love that your bottom lip wobbles and you look genuinely sad when you hear your sister crying. I love the way you still snuggle in to me all scrunched up like a teeny tiny newborn.

I could spend hours just staring at you and sniffing your sweet milky mouth - and some days, I do. No wonder the cleaning never gets done.

Every Friday night, I get into bed and drift off to sleep remembering how you were born right here however many Friday nights ago - my beautiful, home-grown, babe in arms.

We all love you so much (apart from maybe Blod, who gets even less belly tickles now there's another baby in the house - but once you start flinging food off the edge of your high chair in a few months, she'll forgive you).

Love,
Mama
x

Go On, Wear Your Baby

2009-09-29T21:20:00.004+01:00

Self-portrait of me wearing Molly in the fisheye mirror.

Been on holiday in the beautiful Yorkshire Dales, so missed International Babywearing Week. Although, of course, spent most of the week wearing my baby.

Here's why babywearing rocks.

1. Because cwtching is what babies were invented for.

2. Your baby gets to see what really goes on in the world. Molly thinks that life is just one long round of baking, sitting around drinking tea, pegging out washing and going to the park. Oh, it is.

3. You can snuzzle your little wuzzle all day long, but still have your hands free for important stuff like making cakes and pushing swings and throwing balls for your dog.

4. People always, always talk to you when you have a baby in a sling - "Oo, is there a baby in there?", "Ooo, that looks cosy", "My daughter/wife/friend is pregnant - I must get her one of those".

5. Your baby gets more kisses on the bonce than the average baby.

So for happy, cwtchy babies and hands-free mamas, check out this cheesy promo vid and get yourself a sling.

But, be warned, slings are addictive. At the last count, I had just one baby but - gulp - five slings.

Days Like These

2009-09-16T21:36:00.004+01:00

My days at home are filled with finger painting, messy crafts, even messier baking, walking the dog, reading stories, washing blowing on the line, going to the library, going to the park, stopping at cafes for carrot cake or toast, visiting friends, hanging out with family, cooking up a storm, books and roibos tea while the babies nap, taking photographs, eating cake, chalking on the patio, watering the plants, snuggling under blankets with apple juice and iPlayer, dancing round the kitchen to Feist and Crazy Nights.

The house is on the dirty side, our clothes are usually creased, we don't have lots of money for expensive clothes and treats. Sometimes when there's a baby screaming, a toddler tantruming AND a dog barking all at the same time, I can feel ever-so-slightly frazzled, but I wouldn't swap these days of simple freedom and chaotic domestic bliss for anything.

Now if only I could hatch a plan so I didn't have to return to work in March.