tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40439957138601946902024-02-07T19:36:43.325+00:00Make Me an Earth MotherWish I was an earth mother: the truth is more down to earth...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.comBlogger111125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-15558674159235248732015-09-08T23:55:00.001+01:002015-09-08T23:55:11.006+01:00New Blog!So Make Me An Earth Mother has been my happy home for 2 years. I've loved sharing my take on motherhood with all sorts of loyal and occasional readers. I really appreciate all the interest and support - so much so that I've decided to have a blog makeover and relaunch. Don't worry, I'll still be sharing the same great content, just more of it!<br /><br />'Dreamcatching’ will be a place to capture the dreamy and not-so-dreamy moments of motherhood, but also life and love – I hope it’ll make you laugh, nod in recognition and chill-out for a while. <div>
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Thanks so much for all your support so far. I never dreamed blogging could be so rewarding and fun when I started two years ago. But writing has become a cornerstone of my life and the joy that comes from a popular post is all thanks to you!</div>
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Catch you later <a href="http://www.dreamcatching.co.uk/">here</a>. Come ye all, dream along!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-78511985444811311662015-09-01T20:43:00.000+01:002015-09-01T20:43:40.961+01:00Four-year-olds are too young to failUniform; check<br />
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Pep talk and tissues for the school gate; no need this year.</div>
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When my son re-starts Reception for the second time next week, it will be an exciting moment, full of anticipation and promise. Yes, there might be a few tears - he hasn't been in formal education since we walked out of his previous Reception place at Easter (new readers, check out the post <a href="http://www.makemeanearthmother.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/what-happens-when-your-dream-primary.html">here</a>) - but these wobbles will not shake my soul like they did this time last year. All my instincts tell me we've found the right setting this time. And even more importantly, that he's ready for Reception now. </div>
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There's a lot of noise in the media, education and at the school gate about school starting age for summer-borns. But unless you've stood outside a classroom, peeling your whimpering child from your arms, watching them deteriorate from a confident out-going free-spirit into a timid, anxious wreck, it's hard to understand why this issue is so important. </div>
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I'll never forget my son's dramatic regression during his first few months of school; a cry for help that the system refused to hear, such was their hurry to rush him along.</div>
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But why? So much evidence overwhelmingly supports a later start to formal education. See more <a href="http://www.cam.ac.uk/research/discussion/school-starting-age-the-evidence">here</a>. This is a time when a few months of leeway and flexibility could make the difference between a child surviving rather than thriving at school. This is a time when a few months of compassion, patience and play could impact their academic achievements and emotional well-being for life.<br />
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Luckily we recognised our son wasn't happy and were able to pull him out until we found a school that would let him drop down a year and repeat Reception when he turned five. But struggling in the system until we managed this was stressful, exhausting and damaging for the whole family, and threatened to have an impact on our son's learning disposition for life.<br />
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I hope his generation of summer-borns are the last forced to deal with '<a href="http://www.toomuchtoosoon.org/">too much too soon</a>'. Cos four-year-olds are too young to fail.<br />
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Good luck at the school gates, all xxx</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-49476794171249520472015-08-31T22:56:00.002+01:002015-08-31T23:06:10.842+01:00Super-foods disguised as scones, and other things to cook with kids.I've been trying to minimise our lives a bit of late. Cue TV ban and massive playroom clear-out (a story for another post). But the most important thing I want to cut down on is SUGAR.<br />
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Such a sticky little sucker. I never had an issue with it before I got pregnant but cutting out the booze, left a power vacuum; it was only a matter of time before another Vice crept in. Enter the sweet stuff.<br />
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Unfortunately, I seem to have passed the addiction on to my children. I look back on our days of Vanilla Mini-Milks with a sigh. Today's reality includes Cornettos and Flakes, de rigueur. Oh, the shame when I found myself arguing with my 2-year-old over a Magnum the other day. ENOUGH!<br />
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When the kids go back to school I'll be harnessing the power of a new routine and making some changes. I've pulled out some recipes I've been wanting to try for ages.<br />
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Enter this corker: Salmon, Cheese and Watercress scones, or Superfood Scones, as I call them - though not in earshot of the kids. (Daren't risk scaring them with anything healthy sounding.)<br />
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My son and me were taught this recipe by the fabulous <a href="http://www.toddlerchef.com/">Fiona Faulker</a> - a self-taught home cook, author and food writer at a fab event organised by Persil Washing Up Liquid aimed at reaching out to families and encouraging them to roll up their sleeves and cook together to make memories in the kitchen.<br />
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I confess I was sceptical; Fish. Scones. Really? But the little dude got stuck into making them (and eating them afterwards.) Hello, vitamins, minerals, and omega-3 fatty acids. It's been too long. Check out the recipe <a href="http://www.persildishwash.co.uk/view/recipes/Cheese_and_Salmon_Scones_#.VeTDBPlViko">here</a>.<br />
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Next up was Sweet Potato, Apple & Cinnamon Pancakes - a great twist on a family staple we'll definitely be repeating at home though perhaps I'll leave out the sugar. (We don't use sugar in our usual pancake recipe.) Recipe <a href="http://www.persildishwash.co.uk/view/recipes/Sweet_Potato,_Apple_and_Cinnamon_Pancakes#.VeTDX_lViko">here</a>.<br />
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It was an honor to be invited by Persil and to meet Fiona. The event was a celebration of all things messy, tasty and fun, and inspired us to think beyond cupcakes next time we're mucking about it the kitchen.<br />
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Fancy getting your hands dirty? Look out for the 'Cook With The Kids' logo next time you're buying washing up liquid for your chance to collect rewards including baking sets, aprons, whisks and Haven holiday vouchers and be entered into a draw for a chance to win £250.00 of supermarket gift vouchers.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-46030582171635205132015-08-25T12:15:00.001+01:002015-08-25T15:11:31.118+01:00Stand and deliver: how it feels to deliver your baby standing up in a car park. All by yourself. In December. <div>
Apologies for being a birth bore. But I couldn't resist retelling this story as my entry in the Mumsnet Blogging Awards 2015. </div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Picture the scene: half two in the afternoon. One Born Every Minute repeats On Demand. Pregnancy pillow on the sofa. (No judgement, please). This maternity leave business was all very comfy. Who knew hours later I’d be delivering my own daughter, standing up, in freezing temperatures, all by myself?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I was on the loo when the contractions started. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />"We need to get to hospital," I tried to call to my husband, but another contraction was coming -– weird, only two minutes from the last. Some nostril-flaring and deep-throat breathing got the message across. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The only thing I really cared about was my purple folder of maternity notes. Oh, how I loved the idea of a 'birth plan'. Yes, I’d be channelling my innate primal intuition as a labouring woman. Yes, I’d be trusting ancient birthing instincts passed through an ancestral line of strong, confident females, but I’d be doing so with detailed notes, thanks very much.<br />
<br />It was the perfect earth mother wish-list. I’d cherry-picked birth experiences like spa treatments, including everything from back massages to aromatherapy oils, convincing myself labour would be a nice bit of me-time. My left brain warned me my hypnobirthing teacher may have over-promised. My right brain was too high on scented candles to care.<br />
<br />I shuffled towards the car clutching my notes, an iPod loaded with hypnobirthing affirmations and my birthing ball – a logistic we should have tried for size before now – and we set off with me on all fours, bum against the passenger window.<br />
<br />The journey to the hospital was an endurance test. Every speed hump was a major obstacle; every corner strained my pain threshold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />I daren’t tell my husband but the contractions were back to back now and a sensation I remembered from my first labour was taking over. It felt like my insides were being wrung out. Oh dear, I was pushing.<br />
<br />Two words raced through my mind: Precipitate Labour. One of our NCT classes had skimmed over how to deal with rapid delivery but I switched off when I realised it was only a concern for those blessed with freakishly strong stomach muscles and a stretchy pelvic floor. I was mediocre in both areas.<br />
<br />I had a flashback of a yoga class I’d been to at 12 weeks pregnant.<br />
<br />"If the baby is coming too quickly, close your root chakra and use the break position." The yogi demonstrated a bum-in-the-air, head-down posture.<br />
<br />Manage that with a beach ball down your leotard and I’ll eat my root chakra. But here I was six months later, doing the labouring woman’s equivalent of a handstand, praying to God, Buddha, anyone who’d listen to slow the baby down.<br />
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<br />"This is a natural process. Your muscles relax with every surge. Give in, go with them."<br />
<br />Somehow I stopped myself bracing against the pain and let it wash over me. Amazingly, it receded slightly. Still there, but at arm’s length. Maybe I could do this after all? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />I’ll never forget that walk. For someone giving life, it felt like I was dying. "Keep going," I told myself. "Follow. The. Light." I fixed my eyes on the luminous double doors of the Delivery Suite.<br />
<br />But it was too late. "Head. Head. Head," I chanted, pelvic floor straining at the seams.<br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">"Get me on my knees. Run for help." The pain was an after-thought now. This was about survival.<br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">My husband banged on the window of a nearby car. "Help! My wife’s having a baby! Out here!" A couple piled out and fled the scene.<br />
<br />I reached into my knickers. Dare I have a rummage? It felt hard and tight. Yep, definitely a baby.<br />
<br />I was frozen for a moment, crouched over, half standing, half-squatting, rain on my face, an icy puddle at my feet, the lights of the delivery suite so close, yet too far. This was it. I was having my baby, all by myself.<br />
<br />A guttural ‘mooooooo’, vibrated in my throat. Every fibre of my torso burned and stretched, poised to split.<br />
<br />I dared myself to pat between my legs again. Damp matted hair, a narrow jaw, fragile as a bird. I was touching my baby for the first time. <br />
<br />Then – what the hell? – a thick rubbery ridge, hard and knobby under the baby’s chin. It felt wrong, alien almost. The cord – lassoed around the neck! I tugged it over the baby’s head like a rip cord and the body slithered into my hands.<br />
<br />My perfect baby; purple and waxy, lay glistening in my leggings like a fish in a net. I scooped her under the arms up to my chest. My husband wrapped his coat round us. A bleating cry pierced the wind.<br />
<br />We’d done it. Our baby was here. The sight of her eyes squinting in the lamppost light, her body pulsing against my chest, will never leave me. In that moment, I knew if we could guide her through this, we could guide her through anything. In that fleeting second, just us and our baby pitched against the elements, feeling our way, I knew all we needed was each other.<br />
<br />As we shuffled towards the delivery suite in a slow procession, I looked at our tiny, screaming baby and saw everything with new eyes. Yes, my husband was ghost-white, flecked with bodily fluids and spooked for life. Yes, I was walking like a toddler with my leggings round my ankles, my bare bum mooning the car park and the still-attached umbilical cord swinging between my thighs like a party popper. But my baby’s heart was pumping fast as a bird. Her skin was pink and healthy. I’d never felt more proud and capable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-40795835777859585452015-08-22T10:49:00.001+01:002015-08-22T16:23:07.765+01:00Little Loves<b>Read</b><br />This week we've been reading Greedy Spider, Look at Me! - a beautifully illustrated modern morality tale that was gifted to us by the author, Gary Piper.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I loved;</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The moral - stories with morals have fallen out of favour in traditional publishing so it was great to find a book that had some 'meaning' and depth for a change. The message; that greed never succeeds over true love and 'hap-bee-ness' was a great conversation starter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The kids loved;</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The wonderful illustrations by Debra Hodgson - the fantastically quirky trees of Yummy Mead were a particular fave. We spent so much time exploring the topsy turvy trees and glittering bugs on the inside cover, my kids know their funny names by heart!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Gary is a talented visionary, who has drawn on his experience of inventing, building, playing with and licensing toys in his day job as a Toy Inventor to create a fantastical story that will fire up the imaginations of any to 3- 5 year old. You can buy a copy <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Greedy-Spider-Look-at-me/dp/0993274609"><span style="color: blue;">here.</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">We've decided to turn the telly off for the summer (just on week days) so I haven't watched much at all to be honest, unless watching the wildlings run wild counts? You can read more about our <a href="http://www.makemeanearthmother.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/weve-given-up-tv-so-you-dont-have-to.html"><span style="color: blue;">TV detox here</span></a>. I've been so chuffed to hear that since reading the post, lots of friends have been inspired to try it for themselves. It's not that hard, honest! And the smug factor makes it all worthwhile ;-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Wore</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I've<b> </b>been rocking my rose gold wedges this week, just cos I can. I know the fashion mags are all over Autumn/Winter 2015 and I'm tragically slow on the the uptake, but hey, that's why I'm not a fashion blogger! These beauties are from <a href="http://palmairasandals.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Palmaira Sandals De Menorca</span></a> - a brand I've been lusting after since spotting them all over the fashion blogs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />No wonder - many imitations of these shoes exist, but Palmaira Sandals De Menorca are made on the island of Menorca, using traditional methods and local village workers - so they come with an authentic seal of approval and the feel-good factor of an ethically honest product.<br />
<br />Ethics aside, they're super comfortable too - that leather is baby soft - and easy to walk in cos of the wedge heel. The only downside so far is that I didn't buy them earlier in the summer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b>Heard</b><br />
I've been trying to run more over the last few weeks, and sometimes music doesn't quite cut through the pain. My antidote; podcasts. My latest discovery is <a href="http://callyourgirlfriend.com/">Call Your Girlfriend</a> - hosted by a feminist power-duo so achingly-hip and right-on, I'm glad I've never actually seen them. My eyes would likely freeze over in their reflected coolness. These girls are seriously well-read, funny and smart. I loved their take on Planned Parenthood, free bleedin’, and period feminism. I'm way to British and awkward to talk about his stuff, but in listening to them allows me to entertain the fantasy of what I might say if I did.<br />
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<b>Made</b><br />
August is birthday season for my son. (Who says birthdays only last one day?!) God knows why but I made a vow back on his first birthday that I'd always make homemade birthday cakes. I don't even like baking! But I did like seeing the look on his face when I presented him with this years' effort. Instructions can be found <a href="http://www.coolest-birthday-cakes.com/jurassic-cakes-14.html#submission_23878786">here</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DssJ0fkr3ivRDqTzN_QeHrf4pTDsYGGYxwHTlJ6Zx0bQVJF6LD2rEYT_wSieSH9kLLcCHvnxMNdSwLEpTvCzlyOjH3bE6mYX4yGlpAil8BxCQuOA0MQC3iHyp_jsAG2854pEjIxcaFo/s1600/Dinosaur+cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DssJ0fkr3ivRDqTzN_QeHrf4pTDsYGGYxwHTlJ6Zx0bQVJF6LD2rEYT_wSieSH9kLLcCHvnxMNdSwLEpTvCzlyOjH3bE6mYX4yGlpAil8BxCQuOA0MQC3iHyp_jsAG2854pEjIxcaFo/s400/Dinosaur+cake.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
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Inspiration for the cake came from party decorations I was gifted by <a href="http://www.helloparty.com/">Hello Party</a>.<br />
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Check out this gorgeous bunting and poster I was sent to help celebrate Henry's birthday! He was super chuffed to spot himself in print amongst his beloved dinosaurs and I loved how the decorations gave our gathering a unique, personal feel. Cos frankly, I haven't got the time or talent to make my own. Life's too short for Pinterest pom poms, right?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iTks5W0a3pawe0ojllBSBUndLt0_ezBmcI_8UelsB1vllbVCF9Qs0366KeFNzzYK9I_6vT6jeiigdrB9nwZkjTsUn5N1D9cT5DEkZxfZ-uJlKsDx3E8je2k2xi2ynGLat40ygv-kViM/s1600/Poster.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iTks5W0a3pawe0ojllBSBUndLt0_ezBmcI_8UelsB1vllbVCF9Qs0366KeFNzzYK9I_6vT6jeiigdrB9nwZkjTsUn5N1D9cT5DEkZxfZ-uJlKsDx3E8je2k2xi2ynGLat40ygv-kViM/s400/Poster.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI76PQHU8f0wDELp-SjlwF-iaaQUQ4zlOkBz3GCrwv2TSBjz29vMBIxFy755PwJHs_rscgjq4PjJDjbjPCkrmn-elpB0CKyPIh9ycO7GPqpRlXA1fTvxr0EyIxR2PWoOWine6fWhvHzFQ/s1600/Bunting.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI76PQHU8f0wDELp-SjlwF-iaaQUQ4zlOkBz3GCrwv2TSBjz29vMBIxFy755PwJHs_rscgjq4PjJDjbjPCkrmn-elpB0CKyPIh9ycO7GPqpRlXA1fTvxr0EyIxR2PWoOWine6fWhvHzFQ/s400/Bunting.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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We had lots of lovely comments from friends who were interested to hear Hello Party also offer personalised decorations for weddings, christenings and anniversaries - just upload your photos onto the site, select from their beautiful collection of themed artwork and tick 'decorations' off the party to-do list.<br />
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I have the feeling we'll be enjoying our Hello Party goodies for a long time yet: the posters have been relocated to Henry's bedroom and I've tucked the bunting away so we can reuse it next year. If only birthday cakes were reusable, ahey?!<br />
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<b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">And finally</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've loved reading these blog posts recently.<b> </b>Maybe you will too?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="https://randommusingsbynobodyimportant.wordpress.com/2015/08/08/one-day/"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">One Day</span></a>, by Random Musing by Nobody Important <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://wrymummy.com/2015/08/twinkle-twinkle-little-fart-10-signs-your-child-has-an-older-sibling.html"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Twinkle Twinkle Little Fart</span></a></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">by Wry Mummy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://www.mrfoxmagazine.com/parenting/get-over-the-pink-thing-says-esther-walker/"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Can We All Calm Down about Pink, Please</span></a>, By Esther Walker at Mr Fox Magazine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Laters, Little Lovers. x<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-58553045588684036882015-08-03T23:14:00.004+01:002015-08-04T13:28:57.239+01:00We've given up TV so you don't have to; here's what we've learnt.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KZVspNCQNZLc4Om5xh-kvQeVTCkEkP8E6wZkV3ZoxUMv2wFIaywiK_miTpStsW4mBn1JwhhMyHUmpFyqQzM9J3EU-LrsGY2dqFaOfcXQ7D8Pxj_mWSQM_UmWYuLlDd7FLCDQOE4D098/s1600/TV+post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KZVspNCQNZLc4Om5xh-kvQeVTCkEkP8E6wZkV3ZoxUMv2wFIaywiK_miTpStsW4mBn1JwhhMyHUmpFyqQzM9J3EU-LrsGY2dqFaOfcXQ7D8Pxj_mWSQM_UmWYuLlDd7FLCDQOE4D098/s400/TV+post.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Six long weeks of summer stretched ahead of us and already I felt like my kids' eyeballs were rotting from too much telly. Last week was a new low.<br />
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The littlest was ill. She wanted me to cuddle her to sleep for an afternoon nap. I plonked the oldest in front of the iPad and took her upstairs. It soon became clear the nap wasn't happening, but she was too tired to play and ended up curling up next to her brother in front of the screen. Half an hour won't hurt, I told myself.<br />
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But half an hour turned into an hour. Almost without noticing it, I'd emptied the dishwasher, loaded and unloaded the washing machine and swept the kitchen floor. Oh! The freedom! Check me out: Getting. Stuff. Done.<br />
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Still. I probably should've turned the telly off at that point. Except I was starting to feel a bit ropey myself. Cup of tea. Bit of a sit-down. Before I knew it, I was slumped sideways on the sofa being lulled into Peppa-trance. By the time my husband came home that night, we'd clocked up a week's worth of squeaky voices in one sitting and were dead to the world apart for the occasional oink.<br />
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That night I was full of big questions:<br />
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Is Peppa even a pig at all? Or is she a bossy cow?<br />
Is there any job Miss Rabbit can't do?<br />
Why do they need to lie down when laughing?<br />
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But mainly;<br />
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*Whisper it* Could all this telly be bad for my kids? And me?<br />
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I don't mean in some long term, neurocognitive, socially-stunted, obese way. I mean like, right here, now. Cos whilst it seems that the iNanny is great at stopping them crawling up my leg while it's on, the second I turn it off it's like a Cbeebies apocalypse; all high-octane whining and primary coloured rage.<br />
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It's almost like the telly steals their imaginations, turning them into consumers who need to be entertained rather than masters of their own fun. A couple of hours of Peppa and suddenly the enchanted-fairy-castle-headquarters I've optimistically constructed out of sheets in the lounge is just 'a big boring mess, mummy'.<br />
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Not to mention the mummy-guilt. Every time I hear Peppa splashing in muddy puddles, a small part of my outdoorsy, crunchy earth mummy fantasy dies. We should be outside splashing real puddles, right? The real crunch came when my little one fell over when we were at the woods the other day and cried for Peppa instead of me. Gutted!<br />
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Something had to change. So I've decided to turn off the telly during the week, just for a bit to tame the addiction. I'm not getting precious about it. If we're at someones house and it happens to be on, I won't be shielding the kids eyes or anything. And we'll still be flicking it on as a treat at weekends. But in the week we're going unplugged. Ekkkkkkkkk!<br />
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We've only been going a week and the first few days were definitely the hardest. Here're a few things we've learnt already:<br />
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<li>I'm as addicted as they are - telly has always been my crutch for getting things done. For the kids, it's more about boredom and tiredness. Finding 'down-time' alternatives and 'time-out' for me takes time but they are adjusting quicker than I am.</li>
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<li>Puzzle books are our new go-to for the four-year-old; Where's Wally, dot-to-dot, maze puzzles and animal scrapbooks are his new favourites. He's also deeply attached to his Dinosaur Dictionary. Who knew there were 15 dinosaurs beginning with Z? Not us till we turned the telly off.</li>
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<li>The 2-year-old is even more adaptable. She constantly amazes me with her role play and imaginative games. Cue terrible mummy guilt that I hadn't noticed this before.</li>
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<li>We're reading a lot more stories. It's starting to rub off on the 4-year-old and he's starting to 'read' to his sister when I creep away for a cuppa.</li>
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<li>They are playing together more and there are fewer rows. I didn't realise arguing over what to watch was such a big flash point.</li>
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<li>They are getting better at playing by themselves while I get things done. </li>
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<li>They talk a lot more. Not TO each other and me. More AT each other and me. At the same time. Good and bad on so many levels. </li>
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In summary, I have noticed a big improvement in their behaviour. Saturday, Sunday and Monday are definitely our low points of the week, which coincides with the screen time we allow them at the weekend and the hangover afterwards.</div>
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So with mixed emotions, I'm so glad it's Tuesday tomorrow. Only 4 more days till Saturday...<br />
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<div align="center"><a href="http://www.andthenthefunbegan.co.uk" title="And then the fun began..."><img src="http://i1372.photobucket.com/albums/ag350/SamanthaP8/TheTruthaboutbadge_zps84f6dddd.jpg" alt="And then the fun began..." style="border:none;" /></a></div></p></p></p></p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-88204232187547433522015-07-12T22:50:00.002+01:002015-07-16T10:06:57.775+01:00We Need To Talk About Clingy Kids And Independent Play<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ever feel like you're throwing yourself into a bottomless pit of need?<br />
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Ever feel like the pit is so wide and deep, you don't even touch the sides?</div>
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Ever feel like no matter how much you give, your child still has more to take?</div>
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This is how I feel with my son whenever we attempt Independent Play. </div>
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Today's effort went like this;</div>
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'Mummy, I need you to play dinosaurs with me.'</div>
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'Honey, we've had a whole morning together. We read your dinosaur dictionary. We made a triceratops out of loo roll. We made your dinosaurs a picnic and ate it at the park. I think you can play by yourself ten, teeny-weeny minutes'.</div>
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'No.' (Crazy head-shaking.) 'NO! <span style="font-size: large;">NOOOOOOO!</span>'</div>
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'Honey, I need to do some jobs* (*Make a cup of tea,) and some work** (**Muck about on Facebook). </div>
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'But I neeeeeeeeddddddddd you'.</div>
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'You're fine, honey. Take your Iguanodon to the garden, make a jungle'.</div>
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'Primordial swamp, mummy. Iguanodons need swamps. And snacks. And mummies'. </div>
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Oh yes, I'm responsible for the emotional demands of Iguanodons as well as children round here. Dino-sized guilt! </div>
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Luckily, I was recently offered the opportunity of a consultation with <a href="http://www.oonaalexander.co.uk/">Onna Alexander</a>. A co-founder of the <a href="http://www.pikler.co.uk/">Pikler UK Association</a>. Oona has twenty years’ hands-on experience working with children and families - first as a teacher, then guiding parents and young children as a group leader. About ten years ago she came across the work of Dr Emmi Pikler and, having now done extensive training in Pikler’s approach, she gratefully acknowledges Pikler as her greatest source of inspiration.</div>
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I could have talked with Oona all day and would've loved to have heard more about Pikler, but we only had 45 <span style="background-color: white;">minutes</span>: the dinosaurs were still hungry. Luckily Oona had some quick-fire myth-busting techniques to help me rethink my whole approach to independent play.</div>
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<b>Myth Number 1</b></div>
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<b>My child needs me to play with him. </b></div>
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Nope, according to Oona. All he needs is to feel a strong loving connection, which will empower him to play on his own. </div>
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Hang on, he's Velcroed to my leg. A pretty strong connection, no? Thing is, the tighter he clings, the more I'm forced to - and there's no nice way of doing this - peel him off, one white knuckle at a time. Before long I'm locking myself in the loo just for 2 minutes of alone time. Strong feelings? You bet. Loving? Not so much.<br />
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<b>Technique</b></div>
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Apparently it's a matter of baby steps. The first being sitting and watching him play, without taking part. When the role-play demands kick in (Roar, mummy, <span style="font-size: x-large;">roar!</span> Like I'm roaring. At you.') I'm to remind him I'm enjoying watching him without joining in.</div>
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What about when he plays hardball? You know, when he can't reach the exact shrub the triceratops wants for lunch, or find the exact moss the T-Rex fancies sleeping in, and the tears start squirting? Oona calls this 'getting creative' and advises me to remind him I'm enjoying watching him solve the problems for himself without joining in, thus volleying the imaginary ball back into his hands. So no more dreaming up ever-more intricate and fantastical scenarios in an attempt to capture his imagination, then. Step way from the prehistoric soap opera, Jude. </div>
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<b>Myth Number 2</b></div>
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<b>It's my job to play with him.</b></div>
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Of course having fun with our children is all part of bonding and being a parent, but our real calling is to support our children's journey towards becoming independent, says Oona. Sounds simple, but this was a big revelation for me. I'd always felt like I <i>should</i> play with my kids on demand and felt guilty when I said no. But Oona's words made me realise that by stepping back, I'm not taking something away, I'm giving him something better; the opportunity to become more self-reliant. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Keep telling yourself that when the tantrums kick in, Jude. Oona has tips for this too. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Myth Number 3</b></div>
<div>
<b>I need to solve his tantrums.</b></div>
<div>
Typically when I force the Independent Play issue the Red Mist descends and I quickly fall back on the ye olde parenting favourites of explaining, distracting and redirecting. 'I can't play now, I'm on the phone. Diplodocus is hungry. Go make him a leaf salad.' Unsurprisingly, this never works. Salad never solved anything.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Technique</b></div>
<div>
Oona's take is that rather than trying to palm my son off with alternatives, I'd be better off </div>
<div>
acknowledging his feelings and letting him know he's been heard whilst still sticking to my boundaries. Give me exact words, I begged, knowing this would be tricky when the dinosaurs were charging. She had me write these down;</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
'It sounds like you really want me to play with you,'</div>
<div>
'You're telling me you want me to play.'</div>
<div>
'You wish I could play with you now.'</div>
<div>
It's going to be hard for you to play without me.'</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's it. No justifying or rational explanations. No trying to solve the problem or distract him. I'm just to repeat these phrases and be with him till the tantrum burns out, without giving in. The idea is that he'll be soothed by my presence and feel heard, while I get to stick to my boundaries, guilt free.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
'Even when he's butting me with his Raptor and threatening extinction?' 'Yup,' Oona continued. 'You can still hold him and cuddle him when he's cross. Use phrases like ''I won't let you break that/ hit me/ hurt your sister,'' but don't send him away or demand he stops. Let the tantrum burn out and you might find he has a moment of softness and opening up when you can reconnect.'</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Ekkkkk! All sounds pretty exciting and revolutionary. I can't wait try these techniques out with my son. And his dinosaurs. Listen out for the stomps and roars.... I'm hoping for a dino-sized improvement.</div>
<div align="center">
<a href="http://www.andthenthefunbegan.co.uk/" title="And then the fun began..."><img alt="And then the fun began..." src="http://i1372.photobucket.com/albums/ag350/SamanthaP8/TheTruthaboutbadge_zps84f6dddd.jpg" style="border: none;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-73044080636569424132015-07-02T22:21:00.003+01:002015-07-02T22:21:48.542+01:00Gym Instructors; No Match for a Gym Buddy.<div>
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<br />
<br />
I was fed up. What I wanted was a friend. My best friend, Anna, to be precise. That and a few glasses of wine, my body weight in chocolate, maybe even a holiday in the sun... <br />
<br />
Nothing like a spot of PND to make you reassess your life balance. Much as the nightly glass of vino was doing a grand job boosting my serotonin, I had a nagging feeling there must be a healthier way off the tablets. Had she not moved away, Anna - an awesome Personal Trainer - would be kicking my mood into touch with one of her hardcore workouts and massage/ torture sessions.<br />
<br />
We used to go to the gym together all the time. Back when she lived the other side of town rather than the other side of the world. Back before we had kids and were averaging more than quarter of an hour to ourselves in 24. Motivation wasn't a problem then. We'd chat on the treadmill. Gossip over the weights. We even had time for a cuppa and some carb-loading afterwards; all very pampering.<br />
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<div>
Then we had kids. Pampering became more about the brand of nappy we used than anything else.<br />
Besides, Anna had moved away and I'd lost the only person I knew who could get my arse off the sofa.<br />
<br />
The only time I broke a sweat without her was when the kids dragged me onto the trampoline. At least it worked out my pelvic floor. Clench! But it was doing sod all for my serotonin levels. No wonder I was slamming doors and hiding in the loo when the kids did my head in.<br />
<br />
I think it was Anna who told me that when you're stressed or angry, the body releases flight or fight hormones. If you don't burn them off, you just stay stressed long after the moment has passed. Throwing toilet rolls and kicking the cistern wasn't cutting it. I was going to have to join a gym. On my own.<br />
<br />
Enter the gym instructor. Tanned. Neon leggings. A bag of lettuce she snacked on like crisps. We were not gonna be friends.<br />
<br />
She wouldn't let me hide in the changing room cubicle when I'd signed up for her class.<br />
<br />
She didn't buy my delaying tactics when I spent most of the 'warm-up' untangling my headphones.<br />
<br />
She wouldn't let me lurk in the back row till I found my groove. 'Beginners at the front where I can see you, please.'<br />
<br />
She had no mercy when it came to floor-to-ceiling mirrors. 'Beginners at the front where you can see yourself, please.'<br />
<br />
She had a tragic obsession with 90s dance tracks. And a Britney mic.<br />
<br />
I had a feeling she wasn't that bright; always losing count of repetitions and taking ages to count to 12.<br />
<br />
She thought I was just sweating when I was actually crying.<br />
<br />
She said ridiculous stuff like 'don't forget to breathe,' when I was clearly hyperventilating. And 'find yourself a partner,' when there was only 3 of us in the room. (So I'd lost my Gym Buddy. Was she trying to rub it in?)<br />
<br />
She wasn't shy about getting butt-naked and rubbing oil into her abs in the changing rooms.<br />
<br />
She didn't even have the decency to go to reception for me when I forgot my locker combination after the shower, dripping wet, and wrapped in a too-small kids towel.<br />
<br />
Basically, I hated her.<br />
<br />
So it was weird that the more I started hanging out in her classes, the better I started feeling. Turns out, raising my heart rate still raised my mood. 20 minutes in, I felt the red mist rising off me like steam. Yes, it really, really hurt, and made me look and feel really, really hideous in front of someone who wasn't promising tea and gossip afterwards, but I won't be stopping anytime soon.<br />
<br />
In fact, next I find myself getting teary and twitchy from being patient with the kids all day or snappy at the husband for being 15 minutes late when the kids have been screaming for 20, I'll be back for that gym instructor's 'Now, That's What I Call 90s' ASAP.<br />
<br />
Lettuce though? Instead of crisps? She's on her own. I'll be raising a cuppa and some unrefined carbohydrates to Anna; still the best <strike>gym</strike> buddy ever. xx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-84677771528840813142015-06-22T23:24:00.000+01:002015-06-22T23:24:55.216+01:00Oglee Poglee Craft Workshop Review and Craft Box Giveaway!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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Messy play. *Shudder* The mere mention of glitter and glue used to have me twitching and reaching for the vacuum cleaner. Yes, I wanted to be cool, laid-back mama helping my children channel their inner Picasso. I just didn't want to do it at home... One spilt paint pot too far and the house resembled a crime scene; red hand prints on the walls, paintbrushes being brandished like weapons and a toddler in the corner inhaling Prit Stick. </div>
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Which is why I was so thrilled to be invited to an Oglee Poglee craft workshop over half term. A chance to indulge the hooligans' craft habit and flee the crime scene afterwards. Get out of jail free!<br />
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I was more than a little nervous - in my experience, Glue + Toddlers = 'anti-social' behavior, but I needn't have worried. The leader, Claire, was well prepared with reassuring wipe-clean tarpaulings, aprons for all and a designated wash up area. </div>
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The session began with a story about a fascinating made-up world starring the curious Oglee Pip and a chance to explore his box of treasures. The story was long enough to inspire the kids and introduce the 'Outer Space' theme but not so long that they got fidgety. </div>
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Then it was time to roll up our sleeves and unleash creative chaos! My son went straight for the foam clay and got stuck into making an alien out of pipe cleaners and googly eyes. My daughter was transfixed by marble painting 'shooting stars' and 'meteors' on giant black paper. There was also shiny circles and textured paint to make planets - addictive stuff: so tactile! And a spaceship making area where my son got busy with matchstick 'nails' and a hammer. The younger kids loved the water play area with stars, planets and alien toys. And even the littlest fingers enjoyed squeezing drops of ink onto coffee filters to watch the colours make magic patterns.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPvDguugm_5V9gX9M2vejoGi7bKIn8DyHnbjJ2BaXlf17k8GTmPK2jt4I5iPWclanyBxOda0LQgrACudJ0tfe9Dd0YcuK9LMFNfXibot3Uy7gafCziAvSBAvUF51QFkrETuTZp9ZR_lAI/s1600/Oglee+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPvDguugm_5V9gX9M2vejoGi7bKIn8DyHnbjJ2BaXlf17k8GTmPK2jt4I5iPWclanyBxOda0LQgrACudJ0tfe9Dd0YcuK9LMFNfXibot3Uy7gafCziAvSBAvUF51QFkrETuTZp9ZR_lAI/s400/Oglee+collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I loved how Claire helped the children bring everyday materials to life - printing with lids, squirting with bottles and building with polystyrene. It was also fun to discover new things. The foam clay is a new favourite I might even bring out at home!</div>
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The session finished with a calming story and a biscuit before we left with our many creations. The kids also came away with a sense of pride in their new skills. The parents, with a new respect for the dark arts of messy play. Craft is no longer a contraband to be feared. It's just good unclean fun.</div>
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We weren't the only family think so. Ursh, Mum of Jack (4) and Charlie (4 months) said</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1435007258047_6386" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12.25pt;">'We absolutely love these workshops! The themes are great and well thought out and we get so much done in an hour, my little one is always asking me when the next one is whenever we leave. Good quality crafts used and overall a very enjoyable hour for both of us. Even my 4-month-old wanted to watch and<span class="yiv1266242349apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="yiv1266242349details" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1435007258047_6389">see what was going on. Would recommend to anyone with young ones.</span><span class="yiv1266242349apple-converted-space"> ' </span></span></div>
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Fancy joinning in the fun with your little one? Claire has generously offered one lucky reader a personalised Oglee Poglee Space Adventure Craft Box, RRP £17.99, jam-packed with everything you need to explore deep space, dodge flying comets and collect moondust. Each box also includes an Oglee Pip adventure story, a magic button and even PVA glue, so there’s no need to buy any extra bits! </div>
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Don't worry there's no pressure to create a great masterpiece. Oglee Poglee Craft Boxes encourage ‘open-ended’ creative play. Each child decides what to make, thereby avoiding the stress of creating a picture-perfect craft. They can customise Oglee Pip’s story books, design their own creations and even take the magic button off on marvellous adventures all of their own.<br />
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To enter the give away visit my Facebook page <a href="https://www.facebook.com/makemeanearthmother/app_228910107186452">here</a> - if you enjoy it, please 'like' and share. Many thanks! Good luck!</div>
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Bring on the unclean fun!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-35303880158836663572015-06-15T22:23:00.000+01:002015-06-16T11:00:11.315+01:00I'm going to Britmums Live thanks to Pertz Leggings; the shape of feeling good!So, Friday is a big day. I'm off to Britmums Live; the biggest blogging event of the year devoted entirely to a parenting audience and run by the UK's largest parent blogging network of more then 4K influential and engaged bloggers.<br />
<ul>
<li>My name is Jude. I blog at http://www.makemeanearthmother.blogspot.co.uk/ - and no, I'm not an Earth Mother. I just wish I was. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>You can find me tweeting at @mmearthmother</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I'm 5ft 2. I have dark short hair and blue eyes - and look like this;</li>
</ul>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>This is my second Britmums and I'm in it for the long haul: I'm going both days.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I can't wait for The BiBs Awards Ceremony - lots of my blogging buddies are up for awards this year so I'll be on the edge of my seat, cheering them on. I'm also looking forward to meeting some new faces and discovering some new blogs. The Keynote Speech delivered by Deliciously Ella will also be a highlight. Ella's blog <a href="http://deliciouslyella.com/">'Deliciously Ella'</a>, is all about embracing healthy living and gets over six million hits a month! Her book has been the fastest selling debut cookbook since records began! Inspiring? Just a bit. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I've been sponsored by <a href="https://www.pertz.co.uk/">Pertz</a> Leggings so I'll be proud in my Pertz on the day. Pertz definitely deliver on their promise to give me 'the shape of feeling good.' Their unique design and fabric limits my ‘muffin top’, flattens my tummy and banishes the dreaded leg wobble, giving my thighs definition and support. Hello, canapes! Goodbye holding in my tummy and worrying about what I look like all day!</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwEwifP7_yNPZZ9my1AYE6UJVywaJVAdkAgYNE0wE3YkWPX2y9J1oLagTMZfNFsKCtGxZ5Fh1kvJuPuQvhDTJ0fqB6C-pcHuGl-W6YmDt-Mz2MU6IantXkMQhADTBeSoGsTdvLuGYXd8/s1600/Britmums+live+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwEwifP7_yNPZZ9my1AYE6UJVywaJVAdkAgYNE0wE3YkWPX2y9J1oLagTMZfNFsKCtGxZ5Fh1kvJuPuQvhDTJ0fqB6C-pcHuGl-W6YmDt-Mz2MU6IantXkMQhADTBeSoGsTdvLuGYXd8/s400/Britmums+live+collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>This year I'm really hoping to fire up my creativity and feel inspired by Britmums Live. I'll have been blogging for 2 years come September and sometimes I do wonder where it's all going. Events like Britmums help me refocus and remember that it's not just my lonely voice echoing around cyberspace. I'm part of a fab community! A day without the kids will also be a novelty.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>This is my second Britmums so I'm by no means a pro but to the newbies, I'd say; relax and enjoy it! It is intense and there will be lots of hugging and squealing going on but don't be intimidated. Not everyone knows each other - and even the odd person who does will be up for meeting new people. That's what Britmums is about; looking up from our computer screens, making eye contact with the faces behind the avatars and reaching out to new blogging buddies. Look forward to meeting you! </li>
</ul>
<div>
See you there! xxx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-20742823478356762932015-06-08T22:02:00.001+01:002015-06-08T22:02:32.193+01:00A Memo to Imaginary FriendsDear Imaginary Friends<br />
<br />
Apologies for the note, but pinning you down for a face-to-face is impossible when you're invisible.<br />
<br />
As you know, I'm down with the kids, welcoming to their friends. But you're starting to take the non-imaginary mick.<br />
<br />
Firstly, it's NOT O.K. to keep demanding REAL food. The clue is in the name. You are IMAGINARY. So are your biscuits, got it?<br />
<br />
Also, hate to rush you, but getting out of the house is slow enough without you being left behind every time. Keep up!<br />
<br />
Any chance you could work on the clumsiness? As if I haven't got enough cleaning up to do without you knocking over plant pots and upturning plates every two seconds. Enough.<br />
<br />
Also, teeny bit annoying - and hard to take seriously - when you change the rules of our imaginary games every time you're not winning.<br />
<br />
Take the shape-shifting. Are you a Rabbit or are you a Monkey? Or are you invisible? It's impossible to play along when I don't know whether I should be offering carrots or bananas. Or other invisible 5-a-days.<br />
<br />
And that thing when you get all cliquey and leave out the younger sister? Not cool.<br />
<br />
Any chance you could stop faking your birthday every other day? No one loves an attention seeker.<br />
<br />
Also, I know you come from a parallel universe, so your sense of timing is probably out of whack, but on what planet is O.K to hype kids up at 7pm?<br />
<br />
Lastly, that disappearing act. Terrifying. It must be great to take off at every tantrum, but would it kill you to take one for the team occasionally?<br />
<br />
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<br />
Believe me; you might be imaginary, but the struggle is real.<br />
<br />
Yours, in real rage,<br />
<br />
Mum.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-6703991678211636732015-05-31T20:23:00.001+01:002015-05-31T20:23:15.501+01:00The Calpol Headlock and other illness lows.So I've been off-radar the last week or so, not only cos it's half term, but also because we've been in quarantine.<br />
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<div>
The two-year-old was the first to go. Sick in bed. For a clean freak who's already terrified of what her bottom can do, the whole horrible-stuff-coming-out-of-her-mouth thing was a scream.</div>
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<div>
Next to fall, catching us off guard nearly 5 days later was the big dude. Yes, there was vomit but his speciality was ranting delirious nonsense cos he refuses to take Calpol even in a head lock. What are people's thoughts on drug pushing a four-year-old? We resorted to fannying about with a fan all night instead. </div>
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Yes, it was a worry, and I did feel for him BUT when it became clear he wasn't in actual danger, I won't lie, I almost started enjoying the family illness thing for awhile. Bodily fluids aside, sick kids don't half know how channel primal parenting urges to care and fuss and feel needed. Nothing like a whimpering child to make the heart squeeze.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The excuse to batten down the hatches and veg for a day was also a bonus. TV on 24/7? Totally legit. At one point when they were both snoozing in front of Peppa Pig, I think I actually read the paper with my feet up. Result!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The pressure of meal times was also off. Oh, the relief of not having to sit at the table, battle with cutlery control and coax healthy food into them 3 times in one day. Mummy's little soldiers mainlining Cheerios from the comfort of the sofa? At least they're holding something down, right?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Of course, it didn't last. I'd forgotten the natural evolutionary sequence of all childhood illness.<br />
<br />
High temperature = High demand<br />
High demand = High volume<br />
High volume = Highly-stressed mummy<br />
<br />
Oh yes and then, wine.<br />
<br />
Calpol headlock.<br />
<br />
More wine.<br />
<br />
And then it was my turn to crumble. Now, I'm no drama queen (ahem) but what is it about kids bugs that make grown adults cry? The last few days are a blur of aches and pains and cramps and violent ejections. I think I might have slept on the landing one night. I have no recollection of what happened to the library book left at the side of my bed, but I had to wear Marigolds to remove it the next day. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My stomach has finally made peace but I'm a shell of my former self, quivering over dry toast and wondering if I can risk a cuppa. Not to mention the cabin fever. We were supposed to catch up with friends at the zoo tomorrow but they've wisely ducked out in case we're still contagious. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Meanwhile, my diarrhea has gone verbal and the kids are like caged beasts. If we make it to the zoo, I'll be the pale and glazed-eyed one jibbering to the keepers. My kids will be the maniacs galloping about with the animals, howling at the sunshine.</div>
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All back to normal then. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-12794766059609711232015-05-24T14:58:00.000+01:002015-05-24T14:58:05.504+01:00Little Loves: Pizza for Pirates, Tea and a Feel-Good ScarfThis week I'm loving these little beauties;<br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: red;">Read</span></b><br />
I was super chuffed to be gifted Pizza for Pirates by Adam and Charlotte Guillain and illustrated by Lee Wildish by Egmont publishers this week.<br />
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George, a young explorer, longs to meet a real pirate crew. So he sets sail with a cheesy treat to sustain him on his voyage.<br />
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<b>I loved</b><br />
The subject - such an easy win. Pizza AND pirates - two of my son's favourite things. How has no one thought of this before?<br />
<div>
The illustrations - I'm a big fan of Lee Wildish and loved his illustrations in Dragon Stew, so it was great to discover more gems here; fab hairy pirates -one with a paper hat - and a just-scary-enough sea monster, who filled the whole page.</div>
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<b>The kids loved </b></div>
<div>
The Baddies - from the mild peril of the whale to the terror of the sea monster, there was just the right amount of tension to keep the kids on the edge of the bed, but not enough to keep them up all night.</div>
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They also loved the pirate joke - extra helpings of cheese!</div>
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<b><br /></b> <b><span style="color: red;">Made</span></b><br />
This week I've gone all 'Deliciously Ella' and made my own Nut Milk. Yes, the double-shot espressos habit has rotted my brain.<br />
Serendipity came in the form of an amazing Tea Hamper that I was gifted fromYogi Tea. I've gone left-field and invented my own <b>Sweet Choco Nut Milk</b> - a love-child of Choco Tea and hazelnut milk that tastes like Nutella. I'll be adding it to smoothies or drinking it straight and hot with a smug healthier-than-thou expression.<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
100 grams of hazelnuts (which become 125 grams after soaking)<br />
500ml of hot water<br />
4 bags of Yogi Choco Tea<br />
40 grams of Medjool dates (without the pit)<br />
<br />
<b>Method</b><br />
Soak hazelnuts overnight in the water<br />
Strain and rinse the for<br />
Soak the tea bags for 5 minutes<br />
Blend<br />
Strain over a bowl, squeezing out the last of the juice<br />
Blend in the Medjool dates until smooth.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">Wore </span></b><br />
My wardrobe is still a work-in-progress following the cull inspired by Donna's post on colours <a href="http://iwontwearsludgebrown.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/how-to-work-out-your-colour-palette-or.html">here</a>, which led me to bin all my beige and sludge-brown mistakes. What I'm left with are colours for the soul! I added to them this week with this gorgeous Aztec scarf from Little Pieces. They sell online <a href="http://pieces.com/?__utma=1.1776392401.1432413468.1432413468.1432475628.2&__utmb=1.10.10.1432475628&__utmc=1&__utmx=-&__utmz=1.1432475628.2.2.utmcsr=google|utmccn=(organic)|utmcmd=organic|utmctr=(not%20provided)&__utmv=-&__utmk=14851254&forcecountry=GB">here</a>, but I got mine from my new favourite high street shop; <a href="http://carashoes.co.uk/">Cara London</a>. Think fun, fashion-forward pieces, lust-inspiring shoes and edgy accessories without the spendy price tag. Am I signing up for a loyalty card? Hell, yes.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">Heard</span></b><br />
Great news! Lots of my bloggy buddies are through the final in the Brilliance in Blogging awards. Congrats to Wry Mummy and 3 Children and It and You Baby Me Mummy who are up for he Family Award (tough call, ladies), Brummy Mummy of 2 who's up for Video, Honest Mum who's up for Style and Hurrah for Gin who's up for Outstanding. Boomchiawowow, these bloggers are brilliant!<br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b> <b><span style="color: red;">Watched</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b>
I've been getting into Ted Talks recently and love this series of talks to kickstart your creativity <a href="https://www.ted.com/playlists/170/kickstart_your_creativity">here</a>, including this one by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love: Your elusive creative genius. Don't stop creating, peeps...<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">And finally</span></b><br />
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Happy half term all! Thanks for reading!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-68468223401692522532015-05-15T08:46:00.002+01:002015-05-15T09:09:31.134+01:00The Brunch of Broken DreamsI've got that #Friday Feeling - you know, when your stomach does a little flip cos it's nearly the weekend? Except I think mine might be dread.<br />
<br />
How can this be? Weekends are fab. A break from routine. The family all together doing wholesome* family things. A sliver of a lie-in, till oh, eight thirty, while daddy does daycare. What's not to love?<br />
<br />
Saturday Brunch. That what.<br />
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<br />
Help yourself to disappointment! Side-dish of rage, anyone? Yes, the Misery is homemade!<br />
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This simple meal has become the low point of my week. I blame Fay Ripley and all her lovely <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fays-Family-Food-Delicious-Everyone/dp/0718154606">Family Food</a>. for raising expectations. Don't get me wrong, the recipes are yum. Baked Breakfast Eggs anyone? Or perhaps you'd prefer Breakfast Trifle? Dream on. Instead, we're having The Brunch of Broken Dreams.<br />
<br />
I don't ask for much. All I want is for my family to sit down together once a week to share a nicer-than-normal meal without screaming. Here's what happens when we try;<br />
<br />
<b>Family Sitting Down Together</b><br />
Daughter is standing on the table, laughing manically, threatening to jump because she doesn't like today's menu. Daddy is at the toaster, frantically buttering and flinging slices at her as peace offerings. The 4-year-old is under the table, feeding the cat and I am running a 'condiment relay' between table and cupboard, attempting to soothe the situation with ketchup.<br />
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<b>Family Sharing a Meal</b><br />
We forgot to shop so have scraped together scraps from the cupboard and stretched 2 baked potatoes between 3 - with just as many fillings. Daddy is 'making do' with last night's takeaway leftovers. (So selfless.)<br />
<br />
<b>Nicer-than-Normal Meal</b><br />
Silly us. We should have known that anything longer than 2 minutes in the toaster would not be tolerated. And attempts to jazz things up with something a bit special from a cookbook would be met with suspicion. Sauce can not be trusted and is an insult to ketchup. End of.<br />
<br />
<b>Family Not Screaming</b><br />
The 4-year-old is screaming because his mayo touched his tuna. And his tuna touched his sweetcorn. And his sweet corn touched his potato. And the outrage that comes of a potato being too potatoey.<br />
Daddy is screaming because someone threw a knife at his thigh, just missing his femoral artery.<br />
The 2-year-old is screaming, just cos.<br />
At least I'm not screaming - I'm just sobbing in the corner, rocking, and using my potato halves as ear defenders.<br />
<br />
Thanks God for Saturday dinner. Bring on the take-away on a tray, in front of the TV, when we can all ignore each other in peace...<br />
<b><br /></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-79799961423675125342015-05-10T09:42:00.001+01:002015-05-10T09:42:13.820+01:00#LittleLoves; Pertz Leggings, Ning Nang Nong and Next.<br />
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This week's #LittleLoves</div>
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<b>Read</b><br />
I read a blog post this week that made me chuck out half my wardrobe. No, really. I discovered a new blog called I Won't Wear Sludge Brown and read a post Donna wrote about matching colours to skin tone. I've always wondered why some clothes make me look drab, no matter how nice they are on the hanger. Now I know!<br />
<br />
I'm a 'Clear' so I should be wearing contrasting Jewel colours. God knows why my wardrobe was full of grey and taupe and, beige. No more! I filled 3 bin bags full of the murky sludge and wow it felt liberating! I'm sure rebuilding my capsule wardrope with these beauties will feel even better...<br />
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<br />
Find out your colours<a href="http://iwontwearsludgebrown.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/how-to-work-out-your-colours-part-2.html?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter"> here.</a><br />
<br />
<b>Watched</b><br />
The doom of #GE2015 must have tipped me over the edge cos my neighbour found me cackling in the street, watching this on my phone the other day. Terrifying.<br />
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<br /><b>Made</b><div>
Bit left field, but we've made a big decision.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Regular readers will know we walked out of our son's school a few weeks ago, never to return. #NoSchoolNoPlan was probably one of the scariest things we've ever done, but it also one of the best. Nothing like a drama to focus the mind! After a lot of soul-searching and research we've decided the best thing for our son would be to repeat Reception at a new school. As a tender August boy who's young for his years, this feels like the most natural thing. We've found a school that focuses on outdoor play, with a Forest School, and has a lovely nurturing let-kids-be-kids vibe. I can't wait for the fresh start! </div>
<div>
<br /><b>Heard</b><br /><div>
<div>
So the 4-year-old fallen in love with poetry. Yay! You'd think I'd be pleased, right? Trouble is, I'm finding it really hard to find stuff that's relatable, fun AND appropriate. We borrowed <i>The Nation's Favourite Children's Poems Audio CD</i> from the library but I'm keep finding myself skipping through tracks.<br /><br />From the heartbreaking Timothy Winters, about a deprived child, to Roger McGough's scary 'First Day at School' and 'The Trouble With my Sister, by Brian Patten, which jokes about stealing and firing a gun to 'Matilda, who told lies and was burned to death', I'm staritng to question The Nation's judgement. How can people think this stuff is suitable for children? It's so out-of-touch and inappropriate!</div>
<div>
<br />Thanks goodness for 'On the Ning Nang Nong' by Spike Milligan. I'm so much more comfortable with nonsense. We're playing it on loop.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Any poets or publishers who can point me in the direction of more uplifting, fun, relatable poetry for 4 year old would be really appreicaited!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmiwrQeM-ZGv4k2UJKR5ZVrTgyX7bB0PsEryuHjfT2-5iCZDV8AKWT3yUg7TA-bYyK02yEeGm-AHq3uUeZyr7pBJbweAbT610pdEJPmPXglW9NttdG3IlI4PT4_8LkKz2Cbhd0b4ukZ4/s1600/Poems.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmiwrQeM-ZGv4k2UJKR5ZVrTgyX7bB0PsEryuHjfT2-5iCZDV8AKWT3yUg7TA-bYyK02yEeGm-AHq3uUeZyr7pBJbweAbT610pdEJPmPXglW9NttdG3IlI4PT4_8LkKz2Cbhd0b4ukZ4/s400/Poems.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><b>Wore</b><br />Following the wardrobe cull, I bought a gorgeous oversized Fringe Hobo bag from Next. Totally digging the tassle and the fact is big enough to hold my laptop; a must for blogging on the go! So I have no clothes, but at least I can hide behind my bag...</div>
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I was also lucky enough to be gifted a fab pair of leggings from Pertz - the perfect essential to start re-building my capsule wardrobe. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_rfRCkwXKeOiL_Y5il0fa8j1U88BzxNkDkCUwf_fcJoclPcsE6biU6sfdBQLdxEPmupzWW3teIXIyn5qfAxktg-K0TPuwg6vEMvWWWUA62Gs8oikjnk1_zmLpZQ-MeNIZM_fsSMjbgw/s1600/PertzKasia-39+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_rfRCkwXKeOiL_Y5il0fa8j1U88BzxNkDkCUwf_fcJoclPcsE6biU6sfdBQLdxEPmupzWW3teIXIyn5qfAxktg-K0TPuwg6vEMvWWWUA62Gs8oikjnk1_zmLpZQ-MeNIZM_fsSMjbgw/s400/PertzKasia-39+(1).jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<br />Pertz are designed by Caroline Hyde, inspired by her hunt to replace a perfect pair of leggings she loved and lost many years ago. They are handmade in the UK from material she sourced from Italy after a worldwide hunt to track down the perfect combination of fit and comfort. I love that they offer light support, muffin-top control, never get baggy at the knees, dry in 20 mins and have an SPF of 20. I also love the material - which has a slight sheen and feels like a second skin: clothes never cling to them in the wrong places. Check them out <a href="https://www.pertz.co.uk/">her</a>e.<div>
<br /><b>And finally</b></div>
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The shortlist for the Brilliance in Blogging Awards 2015 was announced recently. I tried not to think about it this year following a big disappointment in 2014 when I reached the shortlist but not the final. Sob. BUT lots of my blogger friends are the the running. So if you fancy casting a vote, or just want to discover a some new great reads, these dudes are my pick of the shortlist;</div>
<br />Food; <span style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="http://www.tamingtwins.com/" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Taming Twins</a></span><br />
Video: <a href="http://www.brummymummyof2.co.uk/" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Brummy Mummy</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfbZ2GJspTSeCzr3S4Ua6qg" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">You Tube channel</span></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">Style: </span><a href="http://www.lifeatthelittlewood.co.uk/" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Life at the Little Wood</a><br />
Family: <a href="http://3childrenandit.com/" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">3 Children and It</a> and <a href="http://wrymummy.com/" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Wry Mummy</a><br />
Outstanding: <a href="http://hurrahforgin.com/" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Hurrah for Gin</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-44273887778772507362015-05-03T14:11:00.002+01:002015-05-04T07:43:01.638+01:00Not how, but why, does Kate looks THAT good after birth?<div>
Congratulations Kate, Wills and George on the safe arrival of your healthy baby. Everyone loves a newborn. And even those who don't, welcome the distraction from the Election coverage, right? </div>
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Not that the media have much to go on. No details, except the baby's birth weight and time of arrival. Which is perhaps why everyone is obsessing about other details, like how amazing Kate looks just hours after birth: in full makeup, a posh frock, negotiating stairs in heels in front of the world's press before her gorgeous daughter even has a name.</div>
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Social media can barely talk about anything else;</div>
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I'm not being funny, but I think the 'how' part is pretty obvious isn't it? Kate is able to do these things because she's got money and help and privilege. Her hairdresser was seen arriving at the hospital just hours after she delivered. She has someone to do her make up. Someone to design a bespoke 'going home' dress. Someone to make sure the house is immaculate on her return, complete with nannies to look after George and her daughter, maids to run round after them and chefs to cook and make tea for the guests. I very much doubt Kate is doing much at all, to be honest. It's all being done FOR her. And TO her.</div>
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And what I want to know is WHY? </div>
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Kate probably doesn't want my sympathy. She's never been a moaner (unlike Diana) and she knew what she was getting into when she married the future king, but for the record I do feel sorry for her. I expect she barely had any say at all in what she looked like leaving hospital today, what with the armies of make-up artists and hairdressers and stylists swarming around her, poking and prodding her into camera-ready submission. </div>
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My God, those drugs she's on must be royally good. Is she sedated? I can't image how else anyone got near her with eyelash curlers, makeup brushes and rollers. Not to mention those pointy heels. </div>
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Cos make no mistake, Kate is undoubtedly sore, swollen and bleeding heavily under her buttercup yellow ombre Jenny Packham dress and 3.3inch Jimmy Choo Gilbert pumps. (The fact that I know 'who' she's wearing, is point in case). Mother Nature makes no exceptions, not even for Princesses. There is no way on earth it's comfortable to be in that getup, in front of the press, just hours after birth. I'm not even sure it's healthy.</div>
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That's what bugs me. Instead of wondering HOW she does it (which is pretty obvious given the resources at her disposal), we should be wondering WHY. Why are we obsessing about what she's wearing? Why do we care what she looks like? The answer is because that's what's expected of a Princess. Because we've got our priorities all wrong.<br />
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It's about time society showed some respect for what Kate and her baby have just been through. For their right for privacy to bond and recuperate as a family. For the fact she's just done something much more amazing than look pretty. The woman has just pushed an 8.3lb baby out of her fanjo. She's given birth to whole new person. She's given her husband a healthy daughter and her son the gift of a sibling. That's the miracle.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-2784209483625033062015-04-24T17:41:00.003+01:002015-04-27T23:33:58.754+01:00#LittleLoves; yawning, poetry and Bear GryllsRegular readers will know it's been a big week in our house. Our #NoSchoolNoPlan adventure has taken up most of our headspace, but thank goodness there have been lots of #LittleLoves to help us through.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">Read</span></b><br />
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The whole #NoSchoolNoPlan thang has meant we've had a lot of unexpected time with our son, so we've been doing lots of reading this week. Top of the pile has been I Dare You Not to Yawn, written by Helen Boudreu and illustrated by Serge Bloch, Candlewick Press.<br />
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Just try to resist this comical — and infectious — cautionary fable that will have even bedtime-avoiders gladly snuggling up for a nightly challenge.<br />
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<img alt="Image result for I dare you not to yawn" height="640" 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WBGq3A09BVwn3qZAUoNbgWtsdjVfD4JI4uXGoRLEAKLAX7DvfWnh6lt71yjqk1smVOE8OTDRJFH8Ci2u5O5ZrdSbk+9Y/wAS+H8S2JYYf/V8U0f2ixsRkNnvqNGW3e+1blzYUxHNRcU1Rfh6meObny35+5IihcqqLKBYAbACwH8Kd0NcL9qikNTKGyQ/kKS+9+tNj9fzqQ+pFDg1jpXVG41rqCyUXpMlN5l6kNAIBXe9IzUiN+VAdy9ade3tS63ppfp/PSgFYd/pQWHitpnjfLo+SwuJEDWEbkH40YkDMuxOuxINK16Un6fzf5UBxJ96o8W4nDAuaeQJ2B+I/sqNWrNcc8Wu2aPBWOW4eci6KdssYPxv67XtvQFuE5ULuTJPIQmdyWs7kAWB2Ck39AKxdR12PE9K3fkbcHRTyLU9kPxnirGTYeZoFES+dkl1D5V1UKDfXTfW9+lC+KcBDwtNPPPNJZXzO5sLFWbKq6DS4rWnhJOEmKqcqwsEGutlsLDroKnHhqSXD5LhM8eW51IulgbehrzpdT1WbS47K/Dy9T0I9P0+K093Xj5ma4hw2LDiOWKNUWFiWCqBeNxlkJ720b92iWP4T9qTKp86+eNhqUYaqy9x6dRetli+DI7KR5QNCLXBHb+NS8M4RFAAIltluBqSQD0FztVUehyuScnw+fNd+Zc+qxqL0rnw9TBGIYmFo5ls2qSL1RwNSvzNwe1qFp4einDR4mFTKotzUGUyLsJLrbW9rqdj6EGvV8VgUk+Jde40P1FVsVwaN9gVPdevuKl/hZsd/Dltyt6ffuR/ycc61r5+J5r4f4jxGJng+1B3i1VJ4wyyR7K6SKQ47G5Njaj/AAn+kWNmMeNhbCurBCxOfD5iLr94B5QRaxYW9a0OO4LA+V7qrR7PcaG1jfXS4rO8Q4KSVl8jxkFHIsyOp1ANuzbe7VpfU9Rgd5Farvt/czf4uDKqg6Ztgg6eh9CKdttXmJx83B8jKrS4FyAY92hvs0THdSfwHra1r1upJkxeHBhlPKlA88drlT8QUkeUnUHS41616eHNHLHVE8zLhlilpkXMFjI5gWjbOASpNiNV3FiB6G+xBBFwanAqvgcMkaZU0FySSSWYnViSdyTVm/Y1aVHZfpXNsaj5lSCgFNIABekc6daYjEmgJDXUoFdQDOWBTj7Uo9aTNQDXSuRKcD9aWgE+VDOJ8WhhdUkezsCyqBqQCAxA62uNN6J5qbJGDoQD7gH33/nSgEgYFQRsRfqDr6Gsr4ux5lb7JESBYHEONCqH4YgejvbXsvvWqxWJWNGkc2VFLMfRRc/wrBYLDyyWCr99OxkkbombU3O11XKig9h2NYeuzyxwUYf8pbI29FgjkncuFyEvD/ChIwsAIoWFhbRnHT2X+J9KK8SwMCcouzZhNzUVRmeRgrDIEAJYWa5tta9xVzEyphII0jXM5IjiQbySMCQL9tCzHooYnar/AAPg3KvJK3MxDjzydhvy4x+CIHYddzckmodN0kYRVrcvz9S5N1wVIoMW4uqQwLbyh80j+zLGyqnyZqHYnGY3Cq0mLihkhXVnwxk5iLpd2ik+JRucrXAGxraU2RAQQRcHQg7EHcEVt0oya5AqNwwBUggi4I1BB1BB7Wp1Z7w04w+GlickjCyyRDqcisDCvqQjxqO9hVp+LtGw58QSNtA4fNkJ2EoygIDtmBIvuetVNGhS2sJ4nELGjO7BVUFmJ6AamqeF4Y+J+8xOZIj8GHBy6dGxBGrMf9nfKNjc61FxiPmTYSE/C03McdCsCl1B9OZyj62tWpFWQXiU5Zb0Z+fwXgXk5jYaNmsBYj7sZdrR/AD62qLH+GEQGTBIsMwHwqMsEv6ssY8pv0a1137g6W9cRUmitMzOFeLGYZTksjjVGsGjZTZkNvhdHUg9itYLASNwvGSI5/0SWbK2llgeSxikXoI2DBW7ML1vsNHysXio/wAL8vEJ2GccuUAftRKx9ZTVfxTwxZ4GV1DCxDC26ka/Tes2VvF+uK49jVBLKtL8fcJqO30pb/IVkP6OeJs0MmGma8uFflEk3Z47XgkPut1v+rRXG4jGZmEMcQX+7YnNfsX86lB6Kre9aoyUkmjBKLi2mGOXTr6aUkeawJtewva9r9bX6UhcCpERxX5/wpFWlU9RS2t60Ag966m8zWuoBxPrUJU3qYenWuvragEUVze9L0IrvT60BCFNTj3/ACpAL3t8qH8KwkygmeYSs1hZUyItr3yrmOn/AG60BS8XS3jjiH969mt+jH941/QlUX9+rXhzDWUv1bQegFDvEAzYhf8Adxf9Vzf/AKIrQ8PiyxqPTX56n+NeVkWvq7fEV+WethWjpv8As/YgwcWfHkttDAMo6Zp3cM1u4WFQD2dq0YoDw1rY2UfpQREeuWScN9MyfUUfr0o8GGfLA8/iOBcZHgix58iNIoynLlXe7dDo30PpRiqp4dEZhOY05oXIJMozhSblQ29r9Ksk10iYeJD9qxyWNvtmHbQE6fZ8O2vpdKkPDcXIsQmkiFlmWdES6TZgVi1bVNLEjXXS5FWfD5EjYnEqbriJiydikUaQKw/VbklgeoYEaGjFVSe5ogtgESYp+G81tTmhYjYyNBmtfsTC+voO9bGsx4j4YcRh3jVskgKyRP8AoSxNnif2DAX9CaTw74wil+5xJGHxai0kMhC3I3eInSSMnYipQexXkTTGN4exP9bDGfam+zCLJyNbXta1vhIv5r73A6Vq6S9BuM8cCExQLzsTpaMHRL7NMwuI03OupsQATUysrYts+P8ALtFAVkPS8zoyL7hYmb95e9XWFxaqvC8FykILZ3Y55HOhdzu1r6DQADoFA6VcqiTs1QjSPOmiOF4tAx0GJR8O46Ej7yFve4Iv8q3ca/yP41kP6U0Kpgp0VmeLHYcgKbMwu/lBPc2Hzo7hcVOsyLiBGBKp5axgnlsl2dHcm73SxzBQt1I6i/enjogolPU/qnq+4W+tRsmtS3pDWgyjUWnD0FLfr9aSgGcqup966gIozrU1vSmqNvzpba2oCORraUqXNOI+nSlt/wCKA63pUTOalHW5ofxyVkgdl0a1lNrhSxCqxH6Klsx9AaHeRsWHz4mTNawjhPro2IouKHYbCpHiGCqBniFz+JuW51YnUn73rV55LVlklqbRvxp6VEHcajkR4cTCuZoiQ6D4pIXsJVXu4Ko4HXJb8VG+FcWhxC5oZFcDQ2PmUjQhl3VgdCCARVJZO9QY3hEExzSxRs36RUZ/8Q1/OpxmiM8TsKcR4vDALzSonYMRmJOwVd2PoBWf4jjWxICyH7PhnISznLPiM20YB1iVgNvjYG1l6rxHAx4fDYh8PGkbrFIVZVAa4QkG9rmsbisDmghw2ZnMKy4iFnYs1/s6yQMSdWCySuBf9Adqlqvgr0VyekpYWAAFhoBoABoLDoOlLWQwM0fNhxzkJzo55mdzYJCOTyUN/hUIVa36RY7mtJw3iKTXyZgQbEOrI2qhh5WAOqsD7Gq2i5NFDjvHDBLh41jzmR1EhvYRxtIkQf1OeVAB2DdqtYxMNiGbDyiKVlUM0bhWKhrhWII0vY0F43GOZjZCbcvD4drnZRFJLMT6bXP7PpQjhk+SZsYih5cUk7J+vnxMEWDW/RAirrtbMa7RHVuaGDwxw8OyJDEGUAsiErYNe2ZFYCx13FFuG8OigTJBGkaXvlRQov303NZfgkOHwWJmMsyCRxDE0kjKrTzHPJIfMf8AeR2XYDKOlbM0kdjQxybaVEZjUsguKgZardl8aMv/AEov/oBkG8U0EntllW5+hNFYcYMRMkkVzFGj2ksQrtJlAEZ/GoUElh5dRa+thP8ASd/6eydZZYYlHcvKv+QNaxVsAPl9KvxrazHndOkRKDUw9LV1q5htVplGyU1FNS0g2BoDvnXV1hf5UlAd7GmGSpd/ao8lAPGtcxrr29RSML+lAND1DxHBmaJkzFCRoy2JUghlOuh1A0O+1SiPvTz6igQOw/P5sRxHKvZ0vEXAcsFf4HHk/sjpmaisiXqhxRHyZox50IdB3ynzL+8uZf3qvQSq6qym6sAwPcEXB+lUZI0bcM7RXqyHFtSK5kqljOC4eVs0uHhka1rvGjHTbUiq0i+Tsy6eK55JsYv2eOXC4eQxPynLYnKVBMnL1WRbE6LY6Hciqnhh1mk4ZMrBw+FxGFdhsxhKANb1yOf3hWjxHDxhZTiMPGBGyqs8SKB5UvkljVRqyhjdeq7agXTgvh6OKQyxsDGZGmhCEZF50YWUC2hQkZxbvVloop2BOCYVcQ3Cwx+7hwQlZfwlm5Ijz9wDGzWPVQelCuKYf7U+FkmgxEcb4xnMwkRFyTIYsMyMknMU+WDdR8R+ev4zw8IJOWbNiFhwqqtlCKGkzFLdQkkh7eQUQ43w7m4aSFfKSloyPwMovER+ywU/KmoOJmuF81sRjsJiTmcYSNBJb+3QnEqspA/FZ1Vv1lNqp+H7D+rJJDljw/C+c3YG0Shj7LzK1XDIFmeHGgkM2G5ZXS3nZJCG65lZWFv1jV7GcPjkVldFIZch6Ere+W41y3A0vTVud0nnk3BGnzPylfGY4rM4lJVcNhlKZY82VuW7KiJcAktm3CVs1biG5XBg/oh5z/zZB/7ad4dAcSYnfnuSm2kUd0hAt+EgF/eQ0ZrjZ2MRkQNhmtmtra+W/W19bU80lKKiTMd4yHOxvDcNuFlbFuPTDiybd3f+NalHvWe4OonxmMxO4Q/ZIz0yxeaYr7ysQf8AhitEi2rRFUjDldyF0qNnqW59qYUvUisVTf2pSe165R2pOlz9KAiz0tSZP4UlAKD0pb9bVHGutS/OgGtt6UoNRyCljFqAf3v1rr7VxPrUTIb0BKD/AOKqcMBRniOw+8T9lycy+uVtPZlq1HoKrY+FjleO3MjOZAdA19HjJGysNL9CFNjaoyVonCel2EAK6gfh7jgmLwyNbERE50ZDGxUk5GCn4hbQlSRdTbS1zdZ2qN0ZXujjWU4f4kihR0ZJgqzShbQyZbZ2fKDawtci3Za1lZjgwy4cshUASSoYhdtpX86ra/MBu223sDV+GEZOmZOryyxpOJNJ4ghYoTFMzIxYjlPmi8rJnYAbFXI67ntU+H8RI0ix5XV2IyB1ZM6fidcw1Att3IHUV3MkVrQvI5AvAGByuv8AeBixGa1xYmx23uaFY1fvsI6hgPtOT7wA3EkbNKQPiVuZGjWOgtcaGr5YIqN99/2Y4dZklLT/AB32n40E5+IPHJJDBACEQSls6Kt5C9xlvmuWW+gI83yqJeMysAzRFYypUkZGyyb5D94Li1wdBqLbmnrAHxeIXQMI4XVh8YP3gGUnT4kG9WpYGOYG5jdQ0mYhEzX891HmTT9E2JB9zzHCDjuiWbNljNpPbvy3KXhfFFQuFeN43hhQFWUBSoGVXSxN1OUi3TLruK0NZbjOISGaKYjWBxC7M125WIChSfVZAv7uY9TWoqjNHTLY29Lk1x3YtDPEXEjh8PJIq5ntliQbvI5yxIPdiNeguauY3FpEheRsqj3JJJsAANWYnQAXJvpQbAA4llxL2y68iMEER7qXYjeUi4PRRcDck1wjZbkyaUWPDvDfs2GihuGYLeRhs0jeaV/mxY0TNNX3pT71oMI3PT9faoglSWHrQHM1tf5NNRq5kvSIlASZfWupLDtSUAq7UtIfaoSxoCY7E0t+tNX2vXMbUAu1646Wv3qJXN6l+RoBQOnemgaaU1jamo1AVON8P5sdkcxSoC0Uo3jax1t+JTsV6g+1qvhzxGJnOGnyxYyP40uMko/2sDfiQ3vbcbGjOnY1h+KcJw808mGxC5fNz4pVXK8auCJLMNkWUEk/pSL0rqxqeweZ4t/A39qznB5FRGYhrjESxgqp8yNiHurabgsfXbvQXhEHGMPkVHhxUQAIWclZ8nQrIDZ7Arct3tVjw/j5mkxBeFViaS5BkzIpkjQmTKL6XaxI7nrc13DjcZNMj1OdZIJx79TQSvZSoUJymVgXJIVCTkXKpLC4JB7DX0oZj1k5+EBIb/STdwguw5M5Wz38yDzDvYVegRjYDWWJjy8988oN7GRiPhKX1F9bbWtQTj+Mn+04bKqlEZ8Rd3MeqqIXjC5TZfvQB65jcWq+S20rvvvgxY5LUpPw7/HfIUnB+3uh1STDRsU0BYRSShzfpbmxX9D6VIFDlDK+YNGfMTa6jVRcdSA3lbW6k30tQLxLiJVmhmcRnkSqrKhYM0eJtGVzluhyMRa2lHDi1U6HMpbOpAF+cwvyXXqd7X+G46i9cwxko0S6qcJT1J7fwR4iGN4GSRWKtAyN5WZ81rFRa7BhfU69O1V/D/GcTJBEohPNH3UkklkjV00YlB57GwIFh8Q1q+s+qsPIVfKUZvxn+1QONl1Bv1J9qFJKFxE5uxjcRTORoySC8QbLsVISEgdRr0rssep7jFn+HF0++/sFMNw2XOJMQ2aTMArbCK40Ece1mNrtfMQSCdKXw0tob3BzyzuCNiHnkZSOwII0oHx7FyI0URvzJHZG8xISQoGWZMuqlQyk7DUgVrMFhxHGkajRVCjYbAC/5VXkiopItwTc227+pN6UnYUyQ0kZvVRoJLjWlJ2964/KoGoCcHrSDb1psdOagOB1+VdUJBrqAmA7612WmJJTyPWgOriKa7WpUa9AcF3pfaltTGa1AOy9N6QLXIeopbW9aAXXas14uRozFikuDCWSRhuI5gFYk9VVhGxHZSa0Oem4iBZEaNhdHUqwPUMLEfnXYunZyUdSoBJMp1DKFssShXJVCwP3kZB/s9Wuunw62tUOAlZMXM6m5dFVzFHcAxmRSSgNyxuhBAI16gaCfDbNh5JuH4kqApvEbeaSFzd5I23vcecdL39K08eA3yZuaCJAdgVWwDpYWDFLJa2muhvrsU4yjb777s8yWOcJ0u/t+P2K4Lfdqb2CuyqH+Bv045NM6r5r31GYjXWhfCSHxMrq2iIIFzAmN2IzT2B+GY54wV2ujetXOIOYgsUSo8slmiQZmUob5pHH4FizXuCM5Nt2otwrhCwxiISE/FmzWBmUtmd9/jJZiTv5jfpXJTXffft2GJtW+/by78RGO4eJI2ikJUcsxGy2ZWckR5j0YuLmQaGy96bwPECaJS9uabQ4ljcOkwNnZRsBdcoa1/h10o9JiYcut5CFGpFy6SA6jvYakdPnWW4oWwc74mFA+HcIcQqi5yA2OJW/UlbMutxlbXWuanzR1Y4pabT/AD335hqLBXvmW+a0coAJYagh0vvm0ZidQParEWCLFmax0yyHTKwtaJ1XqFFxbuT2qKHixOVo3SRc2cWbR86XyKQNhdiDsbAb1RxeOmkfkwSDmZc3MXSyS3LBh+GT4Qvb4jtY9ervvv6HIrHdd989tEPD1EmOvoVihKhgWLSEyESPmO4LRMuu4VuhrWHpagPhwJzcUIkCIrRoo2sqRg5cu6+d5D+8fWjZktWbI3e5vxJKOw+1dakXalOn861AsOrrdfUVEZKl33oBfSkG1I5tTEagJQLEV1J8jXUAxEtT/lXD1oLivEQSV4yjFlljjFlfKRIIyWzhcqkcw6E9B3oAw6VypagvBPEHPVbpYuryLYhgFTl2DH9O0q3He/petgvFyMkTyIV5gZgVIKgKEK59fIW5ka21szb9aHaNL7DWmMlzQ7hPG1nkdVUjLa5LL1Cn4RqPj/Kh3CvFRlVByfO/LMaqSM2dJJG1kVdFWJiWF1OwuaCjSKvzrrdhQhPEkZVmyOMpRWBy3DPLJEV0NjleJr202tVLE+MEjRTJE6lgrBS0dysiSOhBzWJPKZcu+aw6g0FGg5dSUEbxMgWZ8jWhJS11zO2flqqqToWawF+9T4Xj0cgUpdkd0RW0seZBz1bfbLp70AJ/pD4XHLDFLIl+TKpBzMhAfyMc6m62urX7oKr4fg+MuqR8QnSMErGrjDs+ZB54+YYy22axIPw+1azHYdZY3jYXVlKkd7i1Z7hs+aGMyMmZolbIFBkLghOW2bRiHU31Bv2tV+JKSqjJ1MpRpp+37juGYBcOC0TnPnDSyNd5WJ0BcH44xnuoBHxaAEWN9IitgLsqyBVJaxs+6A7q7FiSDpYgVWxGM5yGVGJjcR2YXWN1uCo11htcgN+LWukUDmAsy+e5BYl4wRrnXUOtt2vpci+lXqOxjlN6v77Xh2i7E/wkWy53LFRrkY2kzLbTWwFtwL0qowy5l1CspLEahhodbBgihb3v161VxE7ll8yqWcPGEUecopH3Zt94oVScp1NtLAilESCxszgsXizEhXFs02ot5mKnyNp5u1xUaJau+77+YPfwxhVJNuXdOYyxTTIrIlgHCxtluxB0/XvuKq4hYl+zQ4bTmzKzDUJK3Lkc5iCSGXyEknU2O4oly/vo1XKSUM8bE2XyFLw23CgyltPS+1V8ZBbGcPVbheZNPYgKwIw7LJmG/wAcy27XPS1celLbknDXKSUlt9w7wXDPHFlc3Yu7ltLnO7Pc20vY9NNNKtcunB6H8d4i8CqyqMtyGd82SMBScz5FYgaWuRYbmsjds9BKlQRA0/m9V+I4xYkLsDl20tc3BPUjtQefxbGiyMUIVJGiJLoNVLgtqdF+7Y3PcUmI8QRMhMkJKBWazlAxaOLmOojJvmAup7G/TWhKi8eLwBQxcarmy2Ja2t9FB2yn6GpZONQLYc0a+jdCVJ22BBBOwoViWhEAmXDRkvIqZSCw85KZvu1Yk2Y6AdTTIuIYd4jK2HBYCIZQAxJmcokYLW1zgA5rWvrsaCgq/G4bEq+cBHkJUXAWOxYa9fNt/CrGFxsUhIjYMRe4F7ixA1B1G43oLh8TEWMSYS8wDLIl4/Klo7+YnKwYSR2HXra1T8ExsBlZYVOchw23lEEpjt82d267m9AHhfauqPmV1Dljz6E1SkwKHNdR5mDN6smUKx9RlX/CKurt9aUdPagBsXBIVCAKRk+DzyaDy+UHN8PkXy7abVw4JAEKCMFCjR2YsyhGChkAYmykIug7CiTbUh6fKgKGE4akblkXKTv5mtsPwk2Bso1tTU4HhwpUR5fh1BYMMl8mVwbrbMbZSNz3oiev89K5h/GgBrcGgupEY8osLXAtdiLi/mILsQTcgsSN6jh4FAFy8oZet7m4ymO1yb2ysy26A6UXbpSDp/PegKI4PBe5S4zZrMWZcxvdsjErfzE7bmok4PCjq6RgFfhtfKL31C3tezEXtoCQNKJka/Kubr7UBHGLelZeTwMgeR4cTiIQ5ZsiMpUF9XsJFbRv8zWs6/KuUamuxk1wRlBS5PI8K2Mw7SQriFJhYxWkiDKVABjvlK38rC19rmiMHH8auzYbQgi0cotbcayklT1F99ad4iFsfibdRCT6nlAX+ir9BVSvXw4oZMak1+TxOpyzx5ZRj7Ir8Tx+LmngZpIhyG5yARvlzM8ULXvJe1pCbaa+9Ff68xWv3kYBbNZYUyg91D5ra61Uwq3d/wBiP/5eHpgpiwwc5Ku6O5s+RQhK+b8vMvcMxE82MiRsRIM0bqSgiU2urNtH1Ot62OA8PwwsZEEjSEEGSWSSR7EgkAuxtcgbW2rH+GB/p8P/AA5P/rXo53FYeriozqKPQ6Kcp4rkyEJrUeNwEcwCyKWGul2F7ixBsfMpGhB0NWe/vSnpWU2A1uDQ3Pk3YsVJYrdr5jlJyi+Zr2A+I0wcAgvrGDdbEZmsfJy7kXsWyeXNvbS9Fe9J2oCp/VsZTl5SVBDWLuSCDcEMWuLe9VzwGD/Zi1gpALZSBe11BsbEkg73N70UPWu6D5UOg3+o4CAuS9iTfM+c5rZrvfM2bKtwSb2HarUODjWxVAtgwB/bbO9vdgDVjrSDb5/50OEfLrqlO4rqCj//2Q==" width="584" /><br />
<br />
<b>I loved</b><br />
The premise. I can't believe no one has thought of it before! Kids resisting bed? Claiming they're not tired? This book is your friend! You'll all be yawning before you turn the first page.<br />
<br />
<b>The kids loved</b><br />
The interaction. Holding in their own yawns? Funny. Watching mummy try to read through her 7th yawn? PJ-wetting hilarious.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Heard</span></b><br />
<b><br /></b> I discovered Hollie McNish, the spoken word poet this week - just when I needed to most. What can I say? She says it better.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/JF1x2hlcm0M/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JF1x2hlcm0M?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
Wow! And if that wasn't enough to inspire my next girl cursh, she gets even better. This one - Opposite Man - brought tears to my eyes for my very own Opposite Man, who was there for our son's birth and delivered our daughter in the car park.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/dadIRuEQPj4/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dadIRuEQPj4?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Made</span></b><br />
<b><br /></b> So, I've never really got the hang of ironing. I have high hopes that this recipe might mean I never have to. Hello <a href="http://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/2014/08/homemade-wrinkle-release-spray.html"><span style="color: blue;">Homemade Wrinkle Release Spray</span></a>, where have you been all my life?<br />
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<img alt="Wrinkle Release Spray" src="http://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Wrinkle-Release-Spray.jpg" height="424" width="640" /><br />
<b><br /></b> <b><span style="color: red;">Watched</span></b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Very little. We decided the kids were watching too much TV last weekend so haven't turned it on during daylight hours since Monday. (Torture, but that's a blog post for another day.) Still, what they don't know won't hurt them...<br />
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We've sneaked in a few episodes of the new series of Suits after dark. If you haven't already seen this US legal drama, it follows the cases of a pair of New York lawyers, only one of whom attended law school. Senior law partner at one of New York's top law firms, Harvey Spectre, has to recruit an associate from Harvard Law School. By chance, he ends up hiring gifted college-dropout, Mike Ross, even though Mike never actually attended law school and relies on his photographic memory and quick wits to help him win cases.</div>
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<img src="http://www.viralblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/timthumb.php_.jpg" /><br />
The third series of this easy-watching and sexy office-politics show is still a winner, but I'm missing the dynamic between Harvey and Mike and the tension surrounding Mike's dark Harvard secret. Another thing; have the writers forgotten about Mike's amazing memory? Maybe he should give them a nudge: it was one of the most compelling parts of the first series.<br />
<b><br /></b> <b><span style="color: red;">Wore</span></b><br />
<b><br /></b> No school uniform! Our first day on the #NoSchoolNoPlan adventure looked like this! As you can see, we've mainly been outdoors, getting scuffed, grass-stained and muddy! Hurray!<br />
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<b><br /></b> <b><span style="color: red;">And finally</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b> I don't normally do quotes, but I do do Bear Grylls and these gems hit home this week;<br />
<br />
“There is little faith involved in setting out on a journey where the destination is certain and every step in between has been mapped in detail. Bravery, trust, is about leaving camp in the dark, when we do not know the route ahead and cannot be certain we will ever return.”<br />
― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/11174.Bear_Grylls">Bear Grylls</a>, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/21978527">A Survival Guide for Life</a></div>
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“Listen to the quiet voice inside. Intuition is the noise of the mind.”<br />
― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/11174.Bear_Grylls">Bear Grylls</a>, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/15826367">Mud, Sweat and Tears</a><br />
<br />
I hear your prayer, Bear.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-45435866538788295112015-04-23T18:06:00.004+01:002015-04-23T18:06:49.430+01:00Imposter Syndrome for Working ParentsSo as many of your know, my son and I walked out of his primary school on Tuesday, never to return. If you've read my previous post, you'll know it wasn't working out for us. #Understatement. Anyway, it all came to a head on Tuesday and we made a big decision to call it quits.<br />
<br />
In positive moments we've been feeling deliciously-rebellious, heroic and liberated about our decision. 'How brave.' 'How amazing,' our supportive friends and family have been saying when they hear about our #NoSchoolNoPlan adventure. (Thank you so much, I've been clinging to your words in middle of the night during sleepless moments.)<br />
<br />
BUT the only problem with being heroic and rebellious is that we now have no childcare. It's just a temporary blip and luckily my work is flexible and my son has fab a daddy, grandparents, uncles, aunties and godparents to look after him so I've been able to continue working. But there's nothing like small child climbing up your leg to make you feel like a Career Impostor.<br />
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Know the feeling? Apparently 'Imposter Syndrome' is a real thing and everyone worries they're only just pulling it off and are about to be discovered a fraud every now and then. Even Kate Winslet has been quoted saying;<br />
<br />
'Sometimes I wake up in the morning before going off to a shoot, and I think, I can’t do this. I’m a fraud.'<br />
<br />
One of my favourite authors of all time – Maya Angelou – also suffered.<br />
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<br />
'I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.’<br />
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I can't help suspecting it's worse for working parents. It's hard to feel professional when;<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>You reach into your bag for a pen and pull out a crayon.</li>
<li>You eat Pom Bears and party rings for lunch</li>
<li>Your phone rings a Cbeebies theme tune.</li>
<li>You can't take off your suit jacket cos your top is covered in sticky fingers</li>
<li>You want to 'work from home' but still have flashbacks about that time your son answered the phone to your boss saying 'Hi Dad! We're still in our pyjamas.' At 2pm.</li>
<li>You have to give a client a lift in your car and they have to squeeze in between 2 car seats.</li>
<li>You pretend you're sick cos you can't take time off for the kids again.</li>
<li>Your colleagues still tease you about the time you went in late with smudged mascara after the School Nativity.</li>
<li>Your only smart, clean jacket is covered in dinosaur stickers.</li>
</ul>
<br />
How do you conquer Impostor Syndrome? I'd love to know. Turns out good performance reports, great feedback and project success all mean nothing to me. I've still got Cheerios in my bra.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-37221967776127680942015-04-13T20:37:00.001+01:002015-04-13T23:15:54.146+01:00What Happens When Your Dream Primary School Just Isn't?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
You know the drill. We swatted up on all our local schools before we put in the application. Listened carefully and asked all the right questions at the Open Days. Got the gossip from parents in the year above and talked about it at home till we were even boring ourselves.<br />
<br />
OK, so we were never gonna get our first choice - even though we lived on the same road as the school, less than 100 metres away. It was chockablock with siblings and so oversubscribed the secretary told me to not waste a spot on the application form - *rolls eyes* - but we still had several 'Outstanding' schools within walking distance so we were optimistic.<br />
<br />
In the end, we made our choice mainly based on the school's reputation. For a long time, it had been the 'it' school in town and I'm embarrassed to admit I was easily impressed by other people's reports. We also liked that it was a small school and felt cosy and nurturing rather than intimidating.<br />
<br />
When we got the letter confirming we had our place, I felt nervous about the change from Montessori to Reception, but also excited and a tiny bit smug. We'd nailed it! A coveted spot in an Outstanding school. Our first big responsibility as parents had come good.<br />
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I won't deny I had moments of doubt over the summer, but they were centred around my son rather than the school. He was still a baby. As an August-born boy who's young for his age, the basics of sitting still, dressing himself and holding a pen were hit and miss. But the Montessori leader, who I would trust with his life, assured me he'd be fine and my God, he looked cute in his little uniform!<br />
<br />
We scooted to school on his first day, high on energy, excitement and good vibes.<br />
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Shame it didn't last. Slowly I noticed his personality changing: nothing drastic to those who didn't know him like we did. He just seemed like a muted version of himself. Slightly less spirited, slightly more cautious. He lost his trademark daredevil twinkle and seemed stressed about obeying rules. He told me he wasn't good at writing and reading - despite his Montessori teacher telling me he excelled at both only months before. He didn't seem to be making many friends and was overly-reliant on one lovely girl he'd known from his nursery; to whom I'll always be grateful for holding his hand.<br />
<br />
My only reassurance was his fab teachers. I bagged myself the chance to volunteer in the classroom a few times and loved what I saw. They were attentive, kind and just seemed to 'get' him. I trusted them and was sure they were the best we could hope for.<br />
<br />
But then they left. All 3 of them. In the middle of the school year. In fact, out of a pool of 6 staff divided amongst 2 classes of 30, 5 members of staff moved on from reception in 9 months. Call it management problems, call it coincidence, call it a cruel stroke of luck, whatever the reason my son's confidence was fading, and with it, mine.<br />
<br />
I started questioning whether the school was right for us. I was gobsmacked. After all that agonising, all that thought, I couldn't believe we might have got it wrong. Perhaps the new direction the school was taking wasn't right for us? Perhaps the ethos jarred with our own? Perhaps the culture wasn't a good fit? Perhaps *shock, horror* he'd never even been ready for school at all. Suddenly, our 'dream school', so recently the most popular school in town, was giving the whole family sleepless nights.<br />
<br />
I realise we are lucky to have a school place at all. #Spoilt #PrimaDonnaParent But it's a horrible feeling to drop your child off at a school you don't think is right for them. I'm not sure how much longer we can keep looking him in the eye on wobbly mornings, telling him how great it is, how he'll love it when he gets there. How much longer can we cross our fingers and hope he survives, never mind, thrives?<br />
<br />
So what's next? We are looking around. This time we're following our instincts rather than Ofsted ratings, schools' reputations or hearsay. We're open to options we've never considered before; everything from repeating Reception elsewhere to travelling across county or opting out of the mainstream all together. But that's a blog post for another day...<br />
<br />
In the meantime, wish us luck. we've got homework to do and lots to learn before September...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-68990056254980143262015-04-11T16:43:00.000+01:002015-04-11T16:43:21.725+01:00#LittleLoves: Courgetti, Clarks and ColourHow's your Easter hols going? We're half way through and it could go either way. The wild swings between bliss, boredom and bedlam are a total head spin, but these #littleloves are guaranteed to bring joy.<br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: red;">Read</span></b><br />
I Want my Hat Back, Jon Klassen, Walker<br />
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A bear has lost his hat. What if he never sees it again? Wait... He HAS seen it!</div>
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The little lady has been mad for this book recently. I was quite surprised as I assumed it was one of those arty picture books that parents like more than children. Not so!<br />
<b><br /></b> <b>She loved</b><br />
<br />
The humour - The surprise ending is dark, sinister even, but my daughter cackled with glee. Perhaps she could relate to the Bear's red mist? So many picture books are marshmallow soft. It must be a relief to see someone share's her rage!<br />
The repetition - Catchy rhythm and phrasing.<br />
The hat - What can I say? The girl loves accessories.<br />
<br />
<b>I loved</b><br />
<br />
The illustrations - seriously cool. The earthy tones are a nice change from primary colours and pink, pink, pink. I love the visual humour and how the Bear's facial expression never changes, despite his emotional roller coaster.<br />
The subtlety - Yes, the story is dark, but Klassen pulls it off without any gore. The crunch is implicit and easy to make light of should you feel the need.<br />
The simplicity - the sparse style allows lots of room for imaginative voices and is great for early readers. Also loving the absence of moral lessons or political-correctness, though there's plenty to talk about if you want a conversation starter.<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Heard</b></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span>
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<span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span> <b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b> We had an amazing time at <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.eyemusic.org.uk/Colourscape/">ColourScape Musical Festival</a> </span>on Easter Sunday: this labyrinth of air-supported tunnels and chambers uses light, music and colour for a psychedelic effect. To me, it felt like running around inside a bouncy castle. The light and colour really plays with your perception, perspective and emotions. Intense! If you get a chance, go! It's fab.<br />
<b style="color: red; line-height: 0; text-align: center;"><br /></b> <b style="color: red; line-height: 0; text-align: center;"><br /></b> <b style="color: red; line-height: 0; text-align: center;"><br /></b> <b style="color: red; line-height: 0; text-align: center;"><br /></b> <b style="color: red; line-height: 0; text-align: center;"><br /></b> <b style="color: red; line-height: 0; text-align: center;">Watched</b><br />
<br />
On the recommendation of <a href="http://manvspink.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Man V Pink</span></a> we ventured into the world of Japanese animation this week. 'My Neighbour Totoro' was his recommended 'gateway drug' into our next addiction. It's an amazing family film written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki for Studio Ghibli. This story of two sisters who befriend the sprites, spirits and troll-like Totoros of their woodland home captures the wild imagination, curiosity and delight of childhood. Under Miyazaki's direction, even the everyday becomes fantastical: simple chores like dusting the house and waiting for the bus in the rain become truly spectacular. Enchanting doesn't cover it.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">Made</span></b><br />
My husband used to be a chef. He's now a food buyer. Safe to say, food is a cornerstone in our house. But after an indulgent Easter, we've been trying to 'eat light' during the week. Inspired by my neighbour- an amazing <a href="http://mariwilliams.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Food Stylist </span></a>- we decided to give 'Courgetti' a go. Basically, this is just ribbons of courgette blanched or fried and served in place of pasta to cut carbs. Check this out! I'm converted!<br />
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<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Wore</span></b><br />
We left a piece of our heart in <a href="http://www.bluestonewales.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Bluestone</span></a>. And one of my son's shoes. Cue a visit to the shoe shop this week and lots of sharp intakes of breath. Flashing led light soles don't come cheap! Luckily, my son made a dive for these <a href="http://www.clarks.co.uk/c/originals-kids"><span style="color: blue;">Clarks</span></a> corkers. Loving the reasonable price tag, retro styling and bright colours! So cool I couldn't resist buying a pair for his little sister too.<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><b>And Finally</b></span></div>
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I wanted to share my favourite online discovery of the week. <a href="http://www.mrfoxmagazine.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Mr Fox Magazine</span></a> is a great resource for all parents: they put boys up front central, but not in a stereotypical - noise with dirt on it - way. I particularly enjoyed the <a href="http://www.mrfoxmagazine.com/parenting/scandi-sense/"><span style="color: blue;">'Scandi Sense'</span></a> article, on raising boys in Sweden. If your son likes glitter, pink or dolls go take a peek. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-15757072004447752672015-04-06T20:50:00.001+01:002015-04-06T20:50:52.014+01:00On building up resilience. With chocolate.<div class="getty embed image" style="background-color: white; color: #a7a7a7; display: inline-block; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; max-width: 507px; width: 100%;">
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<br />
We're dabbling with endings and new beginnings in our house at the moment, which feels quite seasonal what with it being Easter and all. I say dabbling because, on the scale of it, we've been very lucky. We haven't lost anyone close to us. All grandparents are present and correct. All pets are making the right noises.<br />
<br />
We're just coming to terms with is the loss of 4 great teachers. Out of a staff of 6, 4 teachers left my son's two-class reception cohort at Easter. Don't ask...<br />
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We've spent weeks making sense of the situation and packaging it up as positively as we can. Isn't Mrs X lucky to be moving to the seaside? It's it great Mrs X gets to spend more time with her own children now? But everyone knows that for us it's mostly just sad.<br />
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I sobbed like a child on the last day of term. Not just because I was going to miss those great teachers, and felt a tiny bit abandoned on my's son's behalf, but also because it all felt a bit too real. This was the first real problem I couldn't fix or shield from my son - it felt like a watershed moment.<br />
<br />
The school's Head Teacher is full of chat about building up resilience. I get the theory, but it goes against all my instincts. How do you even go about 'toughening up' your child? I don't want to think about it. We're trying various methods, with mixed results.<br />
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<ul>
<li><b>Turning to spirituality (through garbled snippets of the Easter Story)</b></li>
</ul>
Son: 'When Mrs X goes to her new school she can come back to life, mummy!'<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Transferring emotions onto inanimate objects</b></li>
</ul>
Coincidently my car was written off on the last day of term. The tearful send-off involved Easter hymns, stickers and lots of waving as Daddy drove it to 'car heaven' to be part-exchanged and 'rise again.'<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Distraction</b></li>
</ul>
<div>
Mummy: 'No, you won't see Mrs X again. But the Easter Bunny is around all weekend.'</div>
<ul>
<li><b>Self-medicating with chocolate</b></li>
</ul>
Son: 'The sad thing about Easter is all my teachers leaving.'<br />
Mummy 'The good thing is; chocolate for breakfast. All meals in fact.'<br />
<br />
How's that for building up resilience? We'll see when Bouncing Boy goes back to school and doesn't have a familiar face to meet him at the gate. You'll need lots of chocolate to deal with that one, Head Teacher...<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-29233802783056884942015-04-01T12:49:00.000+01:002015-04-03T09:17:16.725+01:00Behind the Scenes at Bluestone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGcwf4FZ-GalAHjaYOT3ISAYR_7eEZw6JlNMX_w9G2Eeo-CUkrN1Axpwag9cVuqDAyKBYjNm3upcFKyYQzHlruCswAYJYZHBBuFCIA3FVN6Oy6yr2WYJlcSuJutvPyK5FmyFHXx060xc/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGcwf4FZ-GalAHjaYOT3ISAYR_7eEZw6JlNMX_w9G2Eeo-CUkrN1Axpwag9cVuqDAyKBYjNm3upcFKyYQzHlruCswAYJYZHBBuFCIA3FVN6Oy6yr2WYJlcSuJutvPyK5FmyFHXx060xc/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
It was a wet Wednesday when I got the email; did I fancy a holiday to review the beautiful <a href="http://www.bluestonewales.com/" rel="nofollow">Bluestone</a> resort?<br />
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<br /></div>
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Does Mr Tumble have something special?</div>
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Does Pooh like honey?</div>
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Do mums drink gin?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
My sister and I, with four kids in tow, were there in a flash. Well, five hours actually. Bluestone is in Pembrokeshire, Wales - but it's definitely worth the schlep over the bridge. Blue skies, beautiful views, and big smiles at the arrival gate immediately put us in the holiday mood. </div>
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Our chalet was located in Preseli View and wow, did it live up to its name; on our first night we watched the sun setting over the hills and fairy lights twinkling in village below feeling very excited about the week ahead. Child-friendly trappings included a high chair, travel cot and enough space to scoot Trunkis indoors. Perfect!</div>
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Our first day unfolded outdoors. The kids scooted through car-free countryside, raced through willow tunnels and mucked about in shallow streams, all before we even got to the main attraction. At the Tree Tops adventure playground Sarah and I treated ourselves to Welsh Cakes and Hot Chocolate from Miller's Bakery while the kids roamed free, trip-trapping over wooden bridges and swinging on climbing ropes.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Day two saw us venturing to the Blue Lagoon to splash about in the Waterpark. The Wet Play area in the Nipper's Pool was perfect for toddlers. They loved clambering about in the rock pools and squirting Mummies with the water toys. The four-year-olds lived it up playing pirates in the water-filled shipwreck, Torrwr Mor, and winding down the lazy river between bouts in the wave pool.</div>
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By day three, we were ready to chill out and indulge in some grown-up treats. Sarah checked into the spa for a birthday treat and fell asleep having a facial - dreamy - then we all headed down to Camp Smokey. This rustic restaurant is hidden at the bottom of a steep ravine and surrounded by towering pine trees and babbling streams. Time seemed to slow down as we sipped wine and roasted marshmallows on the campfire while the kids splashed about with pooh sticks.</div>
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The facilities at Bluestone were amazing. Other highlights included the Circus Zone; a sensory play area for little ones - complete with giant chill-out sofas for adults - the bouncy castle, Lego area and giant play frame in the Adventure Centre. </div>
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<br /></div>
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But the stars of the show were definitely the staff who went beyond the call of duty to make our stay fun, easy and tantrum free. At the Blue Lagoon, we were provided with free lifejackets and the reassurance of extra supervision in the Nipper's Area. Out and about, Rob, the bus driver, seemed to have a sixth sense - picking us up at the bottom of many a steep hill or rough path just when little legs were getting tired. He did a great job of humouring the kids when they invited him for a playdate too!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwac4NQU8MEUtgTlHqGU8raxYJUxxoHd9dxUqWasxa42_oCrrAs2TK1EaxeN-WrwlngfvTThtZfl7EysP7jhju_liX9MDKGbZb_xpymm5bxGfkAn4EMe6u4GCxij4_ies4byLslyk-g8M/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwac4NQU8MEUtgTlHqGU8raxYJUxxoHd9dxUqWasxa42_oCrrAs2TK1EaxeN-WrwlngfvTThtZfl7EysP7jhju_liX9MDKGbZb_xpymm5bxGfkAn4EMe6u4GCxij4_ies4byLslyk-g8M/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage+2.jpg" height="133" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Behind the Scenes Tips </b></div>
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<ul>
<li>If you're traveling with more than 2 under-fours per adult you won't be allowed to take both children into the main Blue Lagoon pool at the same time. But you can still enjoy the water - set away from the wave pool is a Little Nipper's Cove of rock pools and toys where lifeguards provide extra supervision. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>The resort is vast and hilly. Scooters are a must. Still, brace little ones for tired legs. Rob the bus driver was our hero this time, but we'll hire a golf buggy or bike, complete with tag along cart, for our next trip</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I hate to moan, but the restaurant food was a bit of a let down... no amount of lovely service from the staff could make up for floppy sandwiches of processed cheese, but we got round it with some lovely picnics supplies from the on-site bakery. The shop was reasonable too, and I hear the nearest town - Tenby - does great fish and chips, with a side-order of stunning views.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>If you need something, just ask. The staff is amazing. Extra towels, multiple spa appointment changes, and information were all arranged with a smile.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Make the most of the complimentary kids entertainment in the evening. Glass of wine while the Free Rangers play musical statues with the kids? Don't mind if I do. </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>My biggest tip of all? Just go. You'll love it. </li>
</ul>
<li>If you liked this post, please 'like' Make Me An Earth Mother on Facebook. It really means a lot! Thank you! </li>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-63487774505521163212015-03-30T22:57:00.003+01:002015-03-30T22:57:42.695+01:00#ThingsOnlyParentsSay 2<a href="http://s1381.photobucket.com/user/makemeanearthmother/media/f437335d-f771-4fce-b78f-934c4b133653_zps5z3e1ugz.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo f437335d-f771-4fce-b78f-934c4b133653_zps5z3e1ugz.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1381.photobucket.com/albums/ah209/makemeanearthmother/f437335d-f771-4fce-b78f-934c4b133653_zps5z3e1ugz.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-8502159776995119592015-03-30T22:29:00.001+01:002015-03-30T22:29:35.579+01:00#ThingsOnlyParentsSay 2<div class="getty embed image" style="background-color: white; color: #a7a7a7; display: inline-block; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; max-width: 507px; width: 100%;">
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<br />
It's #ThingsOnlyParentsSay time again! Thanks so much to those who joined in last time.<br />
<br />
My personal fave came from Amy at <a href="http://2boys1mum.blogspot.co.uk/">2Boys1Mum</a>. 'One at a time in the tumble drier please.' I just love the exhausted acceptance it implies. So true to life.<br />
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Can't wait to hear what you've been saying this week. For me, it's been all about picky eating. You won't believe what I found myself saying over dinner this week. Oh, the shame.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12582460289332817725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043995713860194690.post-68995258009656371122015-03-27T17:35:00.002+00:002015-03-29T09:31:37.495+01:00Disgusting Sandwiches, Lego and Matching Onesies: This week's #LittleLoves<span style="background-color: white;">It's #LittleLoves time again. Here's what's been floating the Hurrell boat recently;</span><br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b> <b><span style="color: red;">Read</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1kcHx0CPvANVwi7dHeNjhKkTr4JoweK7tuTllzQA6oblF6ipwEkrjaut6i2ZWqp8ag0HrCsDKcW4ViYWm1vKVJCsEjbt0eNvWcwkEBDmig1GwG8rr0msVNHaIKx84Oyb3LrZBPwTxwdE/s1600/The+Disgusting+Sandwich.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1kcHx0CPvANVwi7dHeNjhKkTr4JoweK7tuTllzQA6oblF6ipwEkrjaut6i2ZWqp8ag0HrCsDKcW4ViYWm1vKVJCsEjbt0eNvWcwkEBDmig1GwG8rr0msVNHaIKx84Oyb3LrZBPwTxwdE/s1600/The+Disgusting+Sandwich.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<b>The Disgusting Sandwich, </b>Gareth Edwards and Hannah Shaw, Scholastic</div>
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<b>I loved</b></div>
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The quirky illustrations, enough details to discover something new with each read.</div>
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The repetition - fun for the 4-year-old to join in with</div>
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The twist at the end didn't blow us away, but it was fun.</div>
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Harmless fun that appeals to children's appetite for the revolting. </div>
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<div>
<b>The kids loved</b></div>
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'Disgusting!' Our word of the week. Thanks for that...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Wore</b></span><br />
<b><br /></b> Is there anything cuter than siblings in matching clothes? Anything cuddlier than onesies and bare feet? I know this is style cheese on so many levels but if it's wrong I don't wanna be right. These ones are from <i>F&F</i> at <i>Tesco</i> - from the boys range but I reckon they're unisex. These ones are sold out now online, but others are available <a href="http://www.clothingattesco.com/page/search?termtextkeywordsearch=onesie#esp_cf=pdxtgender&esp_filter_pdxtgender=Boys">he</a>re<br />
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<a href="https://instagram.com/p/0nh8V3E96G/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_top">A photo posted by Earthmother (@makemeamearthmother)</a> on <time datetime="2015-03-24T16:46:30+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Mar 24, 2015 at 9:46am PDT</time></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Watched</b></span><br />
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The Eclipse. I took Bouncing Boy out of school last week for a holiday to Bluestone (Tut tut!) (Review to follow). While I wasn't too worried about him missing double 'Cutting and Sticking' I was a bit nervous to hear his whole class were assembling in the playground to watch the eclipse together. Oh, the pressure to ensure he didn't miss out! Luckily the weather was on our side and we managed to capture some great 'Colander Eclipse' moments of our own.<br />
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<a href="https://instagram.com/p/0c5TtAk9-j/" style="font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_top"><span style="color: black;">Colander Eclipse at #bluestonewales #bluestonebloggers</span></a></div>
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A photo posted by Earthmother (@makemeamearthmother) on <time datetime="2015-03-20T13:39:01+00:00" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Mar 20, 2015 at 6:39am PDT</time></div>
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<b><br /></b> <b><span style="color: red;">Heard</span></b><br />
<b><br /></b> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXlFpZ79bedvme7DM6gmFWRPCN2N2X5CtWmhsKCdjtTLgBLXcuOI4M-E1xsZWAyzlFYi3ctMxxIekMK61mzlyVTjTHD-X_4BzQcM-14saUJSXABY0HqDe2_MtCqYFYxa_iOxgQK7x5tA/s1600/Criminal.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXlFpZ79bedvme7DM6gmFWRPCN2N2X5CtWmhsKCdjtTLgBLXcuOI4M-E1xsZWAyzlFYi3ctMxxIekMK61mzlyVTjTHD-X_4BzQcM-14saUJSXABY0HqDe2_MtCqYFYxa_iOxgQK7x5tA/s1600/Criminal.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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In an attempt cure my Serial itch while I wait for the next series, I am binge-listening to Criminal; a monthly whodunit that tells the real stories behind unbelievable crimes, without the dramatic music. I love how they manage to tell important, compelling stories without romanticising or getting all judgey-pants. Check it out <a href="http://thisiscriminal.com/">here</a>.</div>
<b><br /></b> <b>Made</b><br />
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Tenuous link here but we've made a fair bit of Lego recently. (Who hasn't?) I really loved Bluestone's take on the old favourite; a wall of Lego boards! It really encouraged us to think outside the block and try new constructions. Zany! And definitely one to steal for play rooms or kids' bedrooms.<br />
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<span style="color: black;"><a href="https://instagram.com/p/0nkru-k9-h/" style="font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" target="_top">A photo posted by Earthmother (@makemeamearthmother)</a> on <time datetime="2015-03-24T17:10:26+00:00" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Mar 24, 2015 at 10:10am PDT</time></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>And Finally</b></span><br />
<b><br /></b> I couldn't go another week without a shout-out to my lovely friend Steph at <a href="http://www.dontbuyherflowers.com/">Don't Buy Her Flowers</a> .<br />
I met Steph through blogging and have watched her evolve from a great writer into a great business woman.<br />
<br />
Her concept is genius: there's more to 'new mum' gifts than flowers. Sometimes it's nice to show loved ones we care by encouraging them to take 10 minutes to themselves. Enter Don't Buy Her Flowers: gift packages can be tailored to include all sorts of lovely treats, from luxury hand-cream and chocolates to Cook vouchers and Gin. My fave is the <a href="http://www.dontbuyherflowers.com/product/the-any-occasion-package/">Any Occasion</a> package, cos its never a bad time for fizz, right?</div>
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<a href="https://instagram.com/p/z0RMP-kqaC/" style="color: black; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_top">The Mother's Day Package from Don't Buy Her Flowers, with FIZZ (because not everyone likes gin. Wine is also available). Includes choice of scarf, handmade truffles and gorgeous hand cream. #mothersdaygifts #dontbuyherflowers</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That's it for lovely things! More about the nitty gritty of my week in my next post! </span>
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<a href="http://www.butwhymummywhy.com/" title="butwhymummywhy"><img alt="butwhymummywhy" src="http://www.butwhymummywhy.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/littleloves.jpg" style="border: none;" /></a></div>
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