Currently viewing the tag: "Love"
Littlelish: Mummy, I really like Alfie at school..
Mummy: That’s nice darling. Do you play with Alfie?
Littlelish: No
Mummy: Oh, well do you talk to him then?
Littlelish: No
Mummy: Oh right… well how do you know you like him then?
Littlelish: Everytime I see him he makes me feel happy.
Sweet!
I have an amazing husband. FACT. Loving and kind, he is a devoted dad and a thoroughly modern man about the house. He is our rock. He works so hard every day but still has the energy to play and read with Littlelish, chat with me as well as put a wash on and clean the kitchen to help me out. I always knew he was a godsend but I didn’t realise how much of an angel he was until these past 2 weeks.
Daddy had to go to America and the girls were left home alone.
Only then did I notice just how quickly the washing, the dishes, the rubbish, the mess piles up and up when you are on your own. All of a sudden I saw just how much waste, clothes and stuff we actually had. I couldn’t work it away fast enough with time left over to be mummy and me. I was exhausted. There were no sweet offerings of a lie in for poor tired mummy, no help in the morning when I was staggering around bleary eyed trying to get us washed, dressed and out the house, no help picking up a parcel from the post office, no help picking up some milk on the way home, no-one to clean the vile stench box that is the litter tray, no hero to catch escapee rabbits (well we did find a random workman in the end but that is another story!), no comforting secure embrace, no daily words of encouragement.
I missed you so much and so did your little girl (the look on her face when you returned said it all)
To my husband, thank you for loving me endlessly, tirelessly like you do. You are the foundation of my life, you secure me, enabling me to be the person and mother I want to be and without you I really couldn’t do it.
To all the mothers who do this job on their own I really have the utmost respect for you.
Toscana Colliverdi
I’ll set the scene.
We were young lovers and it was our first holiday. We were carefree and thirsty for adventure.
We threw the tent and our bags in the back of the car and set off into the dark night. Destination Italy. We had no places to stay, no itinerary. We followed our noses, the scent of adventure and home cooked Italian food wafting in the air.
Approaching Italy we decided to head over the mountains into the country rather than through the tunnel. Who wants to see wall to wall concrete when you can experience mountains and lakes? And what a welcome! Morning broke and our eyes were met with mint green lakes and white chalky mountains. We found our first campsite in a forest by Lago Maggiore. Our requirement was simple, picturesque with a spot for our tent and 2 trees sturdy enough to hold our 2 persons hammock (with us snuggled inside).
We are explorers. We have always been able to follow our instincts and discover the most beautiful, remote, interesting places. We always try the flaky painted door slightly ajar or the impossible little dirt track, just to see where it will take us. Sometimes it takes us horribly, horribly wrong (Remember going in search of that deserted beach and ending up having to reverse up a really, scarily steep cliff, thinking this was possibly our last adventure, babe? Me too.) But so often it takes us very right and we find a beautiful deserted monastery or secluded beach as a reward.
Our days were spent exploring San Giminiano, Pisa, Lucca, Volterra, Florence and the surrounding countryside. Our nights, chilling in the hammock watching an inky black sky peppered with stars and listening to the cricket chorus. I’m not sure how we managed to escape the crowds (of other campers, if there were any) or if it just felt like it was just us on the earth.
We moved from camping to camping every 2 days, finding little hidden gems along the way. Hill top sites overlooking the valleys filled with cypress trees, clear streams to swim in, dilapidated houses that we dreamed of making our own. We also stumbled across the best restaurant we have ever eaten in (and we’ve tried quite a few) in a tiny old church with 4 tables. We ate a 5 course meal of the finest Italian food and wine and received a bill at the end for 30 euros! Make that best AND cheapest meal I have ever eaten.
This was my first trip to Italy and the one that made me fall in love with everything Italian, the language, the culture, the food, the people. It was also the trip that made me fall in love with my (now) husband. Fast forward 10 years and we are a family of 3. I’m so looking forward to taking littlelish on her very own adventure this summer.
Now we are 3
This blog post is my entry to the Tots100/Al Fresco Holidays competition who are giving away a holiday for one lucky family with (http://www.thomsonalfresco.co.uk/) Wish me luck :) x
Oooh I’ve just finished making this little devil. Pretty labour intensive but end result is so pretty!! Tutorial coming soon, but for those who don’t fancy going loopy cutting out circles or burning their fingers on a glue gun – they are for sale in my shop for 12.50.
This Christmas was one of firsts. The first in our new house, the first as aunty and uncle, the first we didn’t eat at my mums. It was also our first Christmas as parents of a child.
D is no longer a baby and at 2 years 4 months old she is growing up. This year she learnt about Santa, more »
This Christmas was one of firsts. The first in our new house, the first as aunty and uncle, the first we didn’t eat at my mums. It was also our first Christmas as parents of a child.
D is no longer a baby and at 2 years 4 months old she is growing up. This year she learnt about Santa, the nativity (her baby JoJo was rechristened, Jesus) and what Christmas is all about. Christmas as a mummy then took on a whole new perspective. My number one job was to make sure the magic of Christmas, the magic I have always felt at Christmas time was passed on to her. This was a tall order.
Christmas has always been my favourite time of the year. For me it was never about the presents but the warmth, the family time, the cosiness, the lights and the pretty decorations (I have always been a sucker for anything sparkly). All these things come free don’t they? (well minus the pretty decorations, especially if you love the Gisela Graham ones as much as I do!) It can’t be hard to recreate, can it?
Within a week of moving house, we had decorated the tree together. I say together, little D decorated the bottom layer and I the rest. In among the moving boxes stood a perfect little tree, glistening. We lit the open fire and hung the stockings strategically over the fireplace. That was as far as our decorating would stretch this year. But it felt just a little bit magical. Ok the decoration bit came easy, now for the rest.
And here was where I began to struggle. Santa. How to present the magical man? Tricky stuff. It all started when we saw 2 santas at the bus stop. Try explaining to a curious 2 year old why Santa is taking the bus instead of his magical sleigh and why there are 2 of them. Ugh. I did my best uttering something about some people dressing up as Santa. Was that the right thing to say? God this was hard!
Her first face to face encounter with Santa was eagerly anticipated (I’d obviously done a good job of painting him in a favourable light.) We went to the village party where surely enough Santa appeared through the chimney to deliver presents to the good girls and boys. Little D spent the entire time saying “Santa is it my turn? I’ve been such a good girl” and I spent the entire time worrying they hadn’t added her name to the list as we had just moved in to the village and her dream of Santa would be shattered when he didn’t have a present for her. Luckily he did. Phew. She was thrilled and a huge smile of joy spread all over her little face.
It went a little pear shaped when Santa had finished his work and she wanted to ask him a question. He didn’t hear her and walked away. Disappointed she turned back to me ”Mummy, he didn’t hear me”. I could tell she was thinking, hmmm this Santa doesn’t seem so magical after all. Deaf bastard (that was me thinking that!) Note to self: Do not swear in your blog or insult deaf people (I really didn’t mean it like that, mum) or your hard of hearing mother will complain. When I suggested we could see Santa again the following week she declined the offer, she wasn’t that bothered.
And then there was the presents and my well meaning family asking what we wanted for Christmas, what I was getting for so and so for Christmas, every day in December. Honestly by the 25th I got so sick of my own voice saying “shhhhhhhh you mean SANTA”, “what is SANTA bringing?”, “thank you S.A.N.T.A.” If my parents were as crap at keeping this Santa malarky under wraps as they are now we must have been really, really stupid as kids.
Anyway I think I might have tried too hard. She wasn’t that bothered about Santa. He wasn’t much to write home about. She wasn’t even that bothered that he had bought her lots of presents. It was pretty much a day like every other. As long as she had her family around her, playing with her, chatting with her, cuddling with her and she had something to eat, she was happy. Just like every other day. So I guess the lesson is love, family time and magic is for life, not just for Christmas :)
I’m a freelancer in creative marketing with a background in design and styling but when I'm not working I'm doing the most important job in the world, being mummy to my beautiful little girl! I love to create and craft and have a passion for colour and beautiful detail. This blog is all about my life, my amazing daughter, my inspirations and creations!
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