She was not at all domestic

A fairy's woe....

2011-07-18T13:16:00.000+01:00

No one, it seems, can come to my party.

Want a flawless face?

2011-07-06T22:42:00.001+01:00

So I'm yapping again....

note to self: Get your fringe cut girl. Your hair looks rubbish.

He came, he saw, he conquered!

2011-07-04T14:28:00.004+01:00

Oh Pants!

2011-07-04T14:06:00.000+01:00

You are getting your child ready to go to the childminders house. You realise there no clean knickers in the drawer. You put her dress on and decide you will grab her a clean pair from the laundry basket when you are back downstairs.

You get the Boy dressed. You get yourself dressed. You get out the house.

An hour later you get a polite but firm phonecall. It's the childminder with news of my knickerless child and her overactive bowels.

The shame.

N.B: I collected Little P via M&S and the florists.

In a fashion tizz.

2011-06-29T18:24:00.001+01:00

This morning Little P and I had a bit of a tiff. Over fashion.

As I got her dressed for the childminders she pulled out her new embroidered skirt, Opar (my dad) had brought back from Hungary. The things is, she wore it yesturday in the garden and it was a bit grubby. I picked out a lovely pair of billowing embroidered harem trousers. But no she wanted a dress. Not wanting a scene I showed her a white broiderie anglais skirt. Her face lit up. Bingo.

Problem is, she did not want to wear a top, preferring the Belearic topless hippy look. Hmmm. By now my patience was a thin as paper. Rather than argue I plonked her in front of Beebies and got myself dressed. I brought in to her a t shirt I know she loves and with a twirl, and spin and a beaded necklace she was happy.

Except she then did a huge wee all over the sofa. All over her skirt, top, even the shoes. It was one powerful protest.

My blood boiled. Stripped and showered, and running very late, I put her in the trousers. She was not happy and tried desperately to pull her Hungarian skirt on over the top. It had become a battle of the wills, and I didn't want to lose. And I didn't.

I dropped my little trouser clad girl off. The childminder opened the door and said, "my how beautiful you look today."

Little P whispered back with a look so sad it would melt an iceberg, "I don't feel beautiful. I want to wear a dress. I just want to be a Princess."

And with that my heart went splat.

a spin

a twirl

a curtsy

Pre-pee

How to waste £10

2011-06-28T22:55:00.001+01:00

There is a shop on my local high street called Tiger Tiger (its a chain apparently). It sells lots of stuff that looks amazing in the shop setting - bowls with cute designs, tiered cake plates, bright and funky napkins, tweezers, chilli flakes and bike bells - all for mere pounds. You enter and within minutes your basket is full and you are ten pounds out of pocket. Once home you realise you should and could live without everything you have purchased.

Problem is I can't walk past without a glance.

Here's how they seduced me to part with a tenner today.....

that's two tubes of bubbles, a couple of packets of beads, some elastic, a packet of herbes de provence and a pair of gardening gloves. None of which I need.

Will I ever learn?

Better than Botox?

2011-06-27T20:04:00.015+01:00

I've a stubborn blighter of a frown line that makes an appearance when I have deadlines, when my kids play up, when I have no chocolate and when The Apprentice is on.

I don't want Botox because that seems a ridiculous idea to me, but I want it gone.....so this is what I did...

NB: this is my first vlogging experience and I am shocked at a) how tired I look (its the hottest day of the year and I am melting) b) how funny my voice sounds c) I do annoying little shakes of my hands and head like I am 'all that' (I'm not, nor do I think I am) d) my eyebrows are wonky and e) my room is a tip.....please be kind!

Fast forward 2 hours.....

I'd like to thank.....

2011-06-19T14:01:00.001+01:00

There's a scene in Bugsy Malone when a young Bonny Langford sings in her high pitched voice "Show business is in my bones." Well, it appears it's rattling in Little P's too.

An example of her drama queen antics. Never has one given a more convincing "ohhhhhhhhhhh", when refused something. This is swiftly followed by a hand up to the mouth, head tilted down sniffle. If refusal still persists, I, The Boy and anyone within a ten mile radius may well risk losing their eardrums as she treats us to her best scream. It could shatter glass. the scream will continue, and continue, and continue until suddenly she says in a calm, quiet voice:

"I'll stop screaming now mummy."

And she resumes her day.

I have Oscar glory in my sight.

Perfecting the "out shopping 'Paparazzi' pose"

It's been a while...

2011-06-03T08:41:00.000+01:00

...It's not that I haven't been thinking of you. My in box is full of half written posts. Problem is a little thing called life has prevented me from finishing them.

The last month has been a busy one. Forging my freelance career has taken over my time and my energy. Just when I think things are slowly down and I can breath, another job comes in. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining - far from it - but it does mean that other things have had to take a back seat - this blog for starters (along with cooking, cleaning, washing, erm, getting dressed...)

Two little things that could never stay on the back seat (far too wriggly) are Little P and The Boy. The apples of my eye and the ringing in my ears.

So whats new? Hmm, where do I start?

About three weeks ago I gave up breastfeeding. I promised The Boy that I would feed him for as long as I fed Little P. And that's what I did - nine months. It has left me a little in limbo. For the first time in over three years I am not growing a baby. You see getting pregnant with one followed swiftly after breastfeeding the other. How do I feel? Well. I've drank wine. And as much as I have enjoyed the cool crisp Pinot Grigio, one glass often results in a heavy head and a "was it worth it" tut. Pathetic. The Boy, I hasten to add, doesn't seem bothered. He takes his bottle with enthusiasm and at least now we can isolate allergies in his diet (which are still prevalent in both my munchkins).

He is mobile. Very. He drags himself along the floor commando style. He can crawl on all fours but his laid back attitude prefers the lazier option. He puts everything in his mouth, he likes the outside step, he eats wires, enjoys sucking the ends of phone and laptop chargers and of all the books he likes to rip, his sisters precious fairy tales are his favourite.

But most of all he is defending himself against his sister.

Clucking good dairy, soya and egg free chocolate Easter treats

2011-04-24T07:33:00.000+01:00

I am up bright and early today. Mr Scruff headed out at 4.30am this morning, leaving me to settle the two kids when they both stirred at 5am. I failed and so our day began with the first light.

It has given me time to make Little P's Easter treat. I looked everywhere for dairy and soya free chocolate eggs, but no joy, so I have skipped merrily down memory lane and rustled up some very special nests.

I used...

50g of Pure Sunflower dairy free spread
100g of Waitrose Cooks Ingredients dark chocolate (its the only one I could find that did not contain soya or milk)
4 tablespoons Golden Syrup
A generous hand full of crushed cornflakes

I simply melted the butter, chocolate and syrup in a Pirex bowl over a pan of boiling water. Off the heat, I stirred in the cornflakes and arranged in cupcases, making a nest shape using the back of a teaspoon.

I dropped in each nest a few of Little P's honey corn pop cereal balls and a little chick I picked up in the local pound shop.

I left them in the fridge over night to set and this morning I peeled the nests out of the cupcases and popped in an old shoe box lined with scrunched up greaseproof paper.

We will let Little P discover her little nesting chicks later, and I'll keep my fingers crossed she enjoyes scoffing them all up.

Happy Easter!

Ouch!

2011-04-19T10:10:00.000+01:00

SIX.

SIX.

SIX.

The Boy has SIX teeth coming through. His front four along the top and one either side of his bottom front two teeth that arrived a few weeks ago. He is miserable. I am miserable.

Two nights ago I heard him whimpering in his room. When I checked in on him, his face was fire engine red. His temperature through the roof. All night he cried. All night I tried to rock him, cuddle him, cool him down, calm him down. I tried every teething trick in the book. Nothing worked.

Yesturday he slept. Last night he wept.

His little face is swollen, his eyes are droopy, his nose is blocked and he is struggling to feed as he cannot breathe properly. His tummy is upset. His mummy is upset.

I want to take away the pain, but all I can do is hold him, stroke his head, and will those teeth to break through.

Stay safe in the sun

2011-04-12T17:13:00.002+01:00

I am very picky when it comes to sponsored posts (in fact I have only done one in my blogging career and that's because it involved free tickets for readers), its not what this blog is about. BUT then Nivea asked if I could write about the risks for kids in the sun as a way of highlighting their new kids sun care range. For me it was a no-brainer. I am a beauty editor by profession. This is what I 'do'. This is what I preach.

My kids are stuck with a mum who, quite frankly, is obsessed when it come to sun exposure. You see through my line of work, I've met the scientists and I've seen the damage. And it ain't pretty.

Their little toes can not step foot outside without me chasing them round the garden with a bottle of sun block. I spend the vast majority of sunny days putting hats back on heads (only for them to be discarded, for me to then pick up and put on again). They look like two ghostly figures as I smear thick layers of sunscreen into their peachy cheeks.

I grew up in the eighties holidaying in the sun. If I got burnt - and I did to the point of blistering - my mum would put me in a white cotton t shirt and send me back out into the blaze. My shoulders are a mass of freckles, and the sun damage is slowly making its way up to my cheeks. But the point is the sun is much stronger now and the risks are higher so its more important than ever to stay protected.

Apply at least 6 teaspoons worth of cream over your childrens body (and indeed yours) at least 20minutes before heading outside. This gives the cream a chance to absorb and take effect. Its easy to get burnt just walking to the park or beach. And reapply every hour, and after every paddle.

The Boy at 8 months will have to stay in the shade as babies under one have such sensitive skin, any exposure to direct sunlight can be damaging.

Both kids have got those hideous and garish all in one UV suits for when we go on holiday. They will stand out a mile but at least they are protected and I can spot Little P a mile off when she decides to dash off. (I got a Hello Kitty one from M&S - its got long arms and legs, which many of them don't) and I bought a baby one from Asda).

Between 11am and 3.30pm none of us are in the sun. It's shade time only as this is when the sun is at its most damaging.

Sun burn makes you miserable. End of.

A bit about Nivea - I love it. I use the range on me and the kids as its well priced and I trust and respect the science. The new Kids Pure and Sensitive Sun Lotion and Spray is an SPF 50 and is water resistant, and costs £16.84. And it will be joining the Scruffs on holiday in May.

The workings of a two year old

2011-04-06T18:21:00.001+01:00

Little P: "It's miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine."

me: "What's yours honey?"

Little P: "Don't know, but it's mine."

Fair enough.

Concussion? Pah! No time for such lark.

2011-04-02T22:47:00.000+01:00

It's been a funny old week.

It started frantic with four deadlines due in as many days. I became a typing machine, nose buried in the laptop every waking minute (and a few sleepy ones too). I am finding the whole freelance malarky a bit...um...exhausting? There is no stop. If I am not working, I think I should be working, a constant sense of panic rooted in me to get the job done. If I stop to pee I feel guilty.

And then there is the working from home set up. My mum, who is looking after the kids, will get the kids ready to go to the park. But I want to go to the park too. But I can't. But I can. But I can't.

So anyway, bearing in mind this hyper state I am in, on wednesday night, whilst spinning on my heel to grab the ladle to dish up dinner (and spin I did), I thumped the back of my head on the kitchen cupboard.

I remember grabbing my head, pausing for a split second, thinking to myself "You are going down girlfriend". And that was that.

The next thing I know I gasp for air and I am licking the lino floor. And boy does it need a mop. Mr Scruff had very kindly put me in the recovery position and was ready with a glass of water.

I felt like Sylvester the Cat when he's been hit on the head with a frying pan. Boing. Thump. Dribble.

The next day, I carried on as normal, except everything was a little bit blurred. I put it off, but after much nagging from my mother (who kept repeating tragic tales of head injurys), I took myself off to hospital to err on the side of caution. And yes I did take my lap top and carried on working in the waiting room (and might I just add, I got heaps done - nothing makes you retreat into your own world more than an A&E department).

I am fine, just a few braincells down, the work has been handed in, and my kitchen floor has been scrubbed.

Come on next week, lets be having you.....

Another child. Another allergy.

2011-03-23T22:50:00.001Z

Cor what a day. This week the Boy has gone back to his sleep steeling ways - our eyes physically ache. But today there was no time for snoozing as it was an early trip on the tube as it was his appointment at St Thomas' Allergy Clinic. We would finally find out if, like his big sister, the route of his blues lays with his diet.

To cut a long story short - yep it is. Bugger.

The skin prick tests show he is anaphylaxis. But they suspect he has more internal issues too, and we have had to eliminate soya, wheat and dairy from our diets, as well as the foods that bought his skin out in hives.

I say 'our diet' as I am still breastfeeding him. The doctors asked me in their all too familiar 'trying not to tell her what to do' tone how long I plan to breastfeed. I don't know. With Little P, I continued to feed for another two months after she was diagnosed. But I had to face facts that she is so riddled with allergies that it was impossible to control what she was reacting too. So I stopped, but it broke my heart. And now I face the same dilemma.

Part of me says stop and put him exclusively on the special prescription formula. It makes sense. We can then completely control his diet and know exactly what foods coincide with any reactions on his skin and nappy. But the other part of me thinks we are not ready yet - both me and the Boy. I can't really explain why, but my instinct tells me to try for a bit longer and we'll see how we go.

The time will come when I know its time to stop. Until then, it's bye bye chocolate.

Silent Sunday

2011-03-20T22:39:00.002Z

Toddler Shrink

2011-03-19T22:36:00.002Z

You know how it goes - I'm tired, the kids cry as if in cahoots to send me over the edge, both want pick up, neither will eat, it's raining outside, my fringe is kinky.

Sitting on the floor in the Boys room getting them ready for their bath I pour my heart out to Little P, chatting to her as if she is some kind of therapist.

"I'm tired," I tell her. "You're my apples you two, but some days it all just gets a bit crazy..."

"look at my hands. Look. Feel how dry they are...."

.....And so it flowed. My worries, my woes, told like a drunken friend but without the joy of alcohol.

Her response? She placed the turtle shape sorter on my head. "There mummy. All better."

She's got a bright future that one.

Gym? Who's he?

2011-03-15T22:26:00.000Z

We were late leaving the house so I walked like the wind was behind me (it wasn't) and pushed the double buggy to Little P's class in 8 minutes flat. 8 MINUTES. It usually takes twenty.

Sweaty, red and breathless. But on time.

We had a lovely walk back. Little P walked nearly all the way, stopping at just about every front garden to look at the flowers. We got home just in time to make dinner. Except with shoes and coats off Little P asked for her Yogi.

(a note about Yogi. To you and me it is a square of cut up bed sheet with a ribbon trim. To her it is life itself).

I looked high and low. My heart sank. So on went the coats and shoes and we headed back out to retrace our steps.

Up the hill, along the highroad, past the wheelie bins (which I looked in). No sign.The boy started to cry as dinner time and been and gone. I hot footed it back home panting comforting words about being nearly home and such like.

When I finally shut the front door I was knackered, huffing and puffing, hot and bothered. The boy was puce and wet with tears. I was beetroot and wet with sweat. And Little P? Well she was sitting happily in the front deck of the pram, thumb in mouth cuddling Yogi.

Humpf.

Catching up

2011-03-11T22:51:00.000Z

so what have you missed.....

The Boy is teething. In fact he has teethed. Two arrived and did we know it. We had a week of earplugs, calpol and sleeping with him in my arms (I know you are not supposed to do this but I did)

His eczema cleared up. Even the stubborn spot on his third eye (not to be mistaken for his Harry Potter stork mark flashing across his forehead). For four days his skin became peachy and soft. Clear and blemish free. It's back now, angrier than ever. Sigh.

He waves.

He likes to laugh at his sister. As we all do.

He's a bit lazy. He won't sit up, preferring to just flop, or better still lull against his mummy's chest. Her boob if she's offering.

Little P likes the sound of her own voice. Quite a lot. She even talks in her sleep. At least she is now able to string sentences together and is making sense. Sort of. She still chats to Mimi and Nat (who?) and now a third friend, Milly-Rose (not to be mistaken with Green Balloon Club's Lily-Rose).

She has show business in her bones.

She has started ballet. At her first class all the little girls dressed in pink held hands and showed grace. Little p wore Adidas high tops and black and blue stripy tights and stomped round in circles. mmmm.

She worries.

Mr Scruff got knocked off his bike. Shaken up for sure but thankfully he only suffered with very sore ribs but they were soon on the mend. Then he did a monkey impression, and now it hurts to breath. Lessen learned.

I am back at work. Except I now work for me. And I am a tough boss, working my staff (that's me) every free minute, not even stopping to breast feed (should you receive an email from me all in lower case...you now know why).

I have learned to always check the brightness of my tights before leaving the house. And burbing baby in 'meeting' attire will always result in a change of clothing.

I'm tired. Still a bit too wobbly round the middle but I have a new fringe. All is good.

well hello stranger.

2011-03-09T21:50:00.000Z

friends, followers and passers by.

I'd love to say my break away from my blog has left me bronzed, sun-kissed, svelte. It hasn't. I have barely left the house and the box of Heros kindly sent to me has done nothing but evil to my waistline. I am still chasing my tail, desperately trying to juggle my new career and two kids, but, BUT, I missed you. I really did. More than I thought.

I actually have written a whole long post on all the reasons why I needed to take a break, but I just deleted it. You don't need to know all that. I don't need to share it. I'm just going to carry on, in my own time and in my own way.

I will share one little nugget. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder xx

A word in your ear, if I may.

2011-02-26T21:04:00.000Z

mmmmm. I've been thinking.

A lot has been going on over the last few weeks. I'm in a bit of a pickle, I'm chasing my tail, my knickers twisted. You see I am trying to start a new journey, create a new career, and it is taking up more time than life allows me.

I have to get my priorities right.

And so I have decided to take a wee break. A blogging break. This may last a day. Tomorrow I may have an urge to post. It may last a week. I don't know. I know it won't last forever. But just getting this off my chest has relieved a pressure.

I sincerely hope you will stick with me whilst I get my self sorted. I'll be back soon. I promise.

Silences make the real conversations between friends.....

Project 365: My week in pictures

2011-02-20T20:02:00.000Z

February 14th

For Mr Scruff on Valentines x

February 15th

Chloes for Fashion week (not fair!)

February 16th

lazar cutout to frame

February 17th

stealing kisses

February 18th

breakfast meeting

February 19th

on the tub

February 20th

making paper daffodils

Thats my boy!

2011-02-19T14:59:00.000Z

The Boy is 6 months old. Here's a bit about him....

When my dad sits at the head of the table with his back against the window, the sun streams in and illuminates his ears. My boy has inherited these ears - big, soft, lobey!

He is happiest sitting on your lap with his head flopped against your chest.

His thumb is permanently wedged in his mouth.

He idolises his sister. Even when she is taking away his toys and claiming them as her own, he looks on at her goggle eyed.

Nappy free time is his favourite time.

He'd eat your hand if you offered it to him.

He rarely wears matching socks. He rarely wears socks.

He can do backstroke from one end of the bath to the other.

He is the double of his dad.

thats my boy xx

It started with a text....

2011-02-14T20:00:00.000Z

Text received:

"Scruffy boy from Peterborough meets posh London lady. Apparently it's not cool to contact you so soon, but hi xx"

Text sent:

"Dear Mr Scruff. It is cool. Lady V xx"

And so it began.......

Happy Valentines Day Mr Scruff, (and no you still can't call me Lady V!)

Project 365: my week in pictures

2011-02-14T19:34:00.000Z

February 7th

sleeping fairy

February 8th

flowers at a fragrance launch

February 9th

licking the bowl clean

February 10th

secret jam stash

February 11th

The grand ole duke of york

February 12th

fringe trim

February 13th

tummy bug (and yes I was that green)

Hey Mum, something is missing

2011-02-09T15:04:00.001Z

Lets cut to the chase. I'm knackered. Shattered. Pooped. Like a week old balloon. Deflated.

I was told by those in the know that having two kids so close together would be tough. Pah! You're telling me.

I don't need to harp on about how much I love the two monkeys, but there are times when I can't work out if my shoulders are up by ears or down by my knees. It all just gets a bit too much. The screams ring through my head, the tiredness and lack of sleep leave my body feeling like a dead weight, my brain is like a scribble.

Take today. The sun came out. A walk in the park. How lovely. As I tried to put the Boys coat on, Little P started screaming. When I didn't dance her tune she stamped her feet and whacked the Boy. He was screaming, she was screaming, my head was screaming. Fast forward half an hour, a lot of jigging of children, swapping of prams, throwing of toys, we are standing outside locking the front door. Thing is, I have no shoes on.

Think I need a break.

Kiss It Better and Great Ormond Street

2011-02-08T21:17:00.002Z

Today I went to Great Ormond Street Hospital where Radio 1 DJ Edith Bowman launched this years Kiss It Better appeal, which raises money to fund research into the causes and treatment of childhood cancers.

Carmel Allen is a fellow beauty editor. When her little girl JoJo was 9 months old she was having trouble breathing. The doctors put it down to a chest infection. After further investigation, tests and heart ache, JoJo was diagnosed with Neouroblastoma cancer.

Carmel and JoJo spent months at Great Ormond Street and it was during this tough time that Carmel came up with the Kiss it Better appeal - a way of raising awareness and helping children with cancer.

Using her beauty contacts she found a partner in Clinique.

After road accidents, cancer is the biggest killer of children. The Kiss It Better campaign aims to cut the death rates of childhood cancer and reduce the side effects of treatment. This years appeal (its been running for four years), will go towards the training and employment of clinical research nurses who will enlist children onto clinical trials. Its been proven that children enlisted on these trials do significantly better.

Clinique has created a Limited Edition Smoothie Kisses Lip Gloss Set which will be sold in House of Fraser and on the Clinique website. £4 of the price will go to the appeal. Also ANY Clinique lipstick or lipgloss sold in House of Fraser during February, £2 will go to the appeal. Now, Clinique make-up is blooming marvellous so to me, treating yourself to one (or two) is a no brainer.

But there's more! Funky illustrator Daisy De Villeneuve has created a limited edition illustration for the campaign (it's pictured above). The Kiss It Better triptych of prints costs £100 and all the money goes to the appeal. (buy here). I got one and have hung it in Little P's room. She absolutely loves it. Tonight at bedtime she whacked her eye with her book and through her tears I showed her the Kiss It Better picture, and then I kissed her better.

For more information go to www.gosh.org/kissitbetter or www.clinique.co.uk

Oh to dress like a 2 year old

2011-02-07T13:01:00.001Z

"She always looks like she is going to a party"

This comment by Little P's music teacher was a fine tune to my ears. I adore dressing and shopping for Little P and am making the most of it while I can. Before long she will be making her own decisions and I am not one to stand in the way of someones style choices.

My own fashion sense leans towards dresses - I'm not in any way fussy, in fact it is the very simplicity of a single garment - the dress - that holds the appeal. But I also love detailing - a lace collar, a bow, and embroidered cuff.

Problem is I am a little style shy, a bit afraid to wear what I really like for fear of standing out. I mean where do I really go, other than the park and the odd playgroup. Plus breastfeeding has ruled out anything other than separates.

But when it comes to Little P, anything goes. I have wardrobe envy. Big time.

She has the prettiest pinafore dresses

The frilliest of white blouses

The funkiest tights

A fine collection of Kitty clips

AND she gets to wear wings.

Project 365: Silent Sunday

2011-02-06T20:41:00.001Z

5th February


The latest members of the Scruff household

6th February

Chasing birds

A can of coke becomes a picture on the wall. But how?

2011-02-06T20:22:00.000Z

Mr Scruff has found a brilliant little idea I thought I would share with you.

Very carefully remove the ring pull from a can of drink.

Use a small screw and attach to the back of the picture frame, bending the ring pull slightly forward so it can hang on the hook on the wall.

Thats it. Simple but genius!

Yes I know the picture is upside down, but you get the idea!

Chane of plan

2011-02-06T13:10:00.000Z

When you start new projects it takes a while for things to find their feet.

Project 365 is proving to be great fun and good motivation for me to document my ever changing kids and life. BUT, I am quite aware how it must be clogging up your reader! I would set up a Posterous account but I can't be arsed. Instead, I am going to still take pictures everyday but post them up all together as a weekly post.

So there you go, Sunday seems a good a day as any. Later I'll pop up yesturdays and todays picture. Catch up with our week in pictures next sunday

Project 365: 3rd February

2011-02-04T22:02:00.000Z

Weeeeeeeeee! I can fly

Project 365: 3rd February

2011-02-03T19:35:00.000Z

London at its best

Project 365: 2nd February

2011-02-03T08:41:00.000Z

Prepared for a bumpy landing

The Good Life - its all about the knitwear.

2011-02-02T10:00:00.000Z

Instead of going for our usual nice walk in the park, Mr Scruff suggested we tackle our overgrown garden. Brilliant idea I thought as I imagined us all clearing and weeding and being all outdoorsy.

I gathered the kids and got us togged up. Little P wore her Maman Jo Jo fleece trousers, wellies, oversized fleece jumper, bobble hat and scarf. The Boy had his Mini Boden Snow Suit. And me, I pulled on my grey woolly tights, floral skirt, big knitted jumper and Hunter wellies. Show me the shovel.

Five minutes after being outside, Little P made her way back up the stairs complaining that she was 'too chilly'. The Boy starting crying because he needed a nap. And no matter where I stood I kept getting smoke in my eye from the burning bin.

We headed back indoors and left Mr Scruff to it.

Maybe this Barbara Good lark is just a fashion statement? It will be better come Summer, afterall self sufficiency chic is in!

Project 365: 1st February

2011-02-01T20:33:00.000Z

Forever blowing bubbles

Project 365: 31st January

2011-01-31T22:11:00.000Z

Hanging out to dry

Project 365: 30th January

2011-01-30T22:14:00.000Z

garden clear up

Who'd be mad enough to shop on a saturday.

2011-01-30T13:31:00.000Z

Going to the supermarket was something we did as a couple. A weekend jaunt, post fry up, pre pub. We'd mooch around Waitrose filling our basket with overpriced tubs of olives, Peroni beer and chiabatta bread 'for dipping', oblivious to the crowds, time on our side. I love food. And I love to shop for food.

At least I did.

Ever since the 'incident' when Little P was a baby I now dread those automatic doors. She was screaming like a wild banshee and so with my trolley half full I whipped her outside and strapped on the Baby Bjorn hoping a bit of jigging would lull her to sleep. So loud were her screams that the manager offered to open 'the parents room' for me. My eyes lit up - I mean this is Waitrose. We found ourselves in the disabled loo, in tears, me stripping off my top whilst still wearing the Baby Bjorn so she could get to the boob.

I have tried shopping on line, but instead of 5 leeks, I ordered 5 kilos of leeks.

I have tried going in the week but finding the perfect slot takes precision planning. Both kids should be not too tired, nor too hungry. And it also means shopping alongside the geriatric crew, arriving on their VIP bus, all armed with their 'kids should be seen but not heard' glare. Seesh.

So now I leave the kids with Mr Scruff and go on Saturdays. Along with every one else. Its a race to beat the 4x4 to the one parking space available (I always loose - its my good nature and battered Ford Focus that always lets me down), a clash of the trolleys, a constant chorus of 'sorry's, and 'excuse me's, a bum fight at the meat counter, dodging the dads with their Boden clad offspring (how come their mum gets the day off), the North London middle class buying their essential hummus and dinner party Chablis. And me wheel spinning around a breakneck speed fearing the Scruff household will fall apart if I don't return post haste. It's hell on earth.

I survived yesturday's war. My pride was a bit battered when, after queuing for twenty minutes, they opened the adjoining till, but I was piped to the post by Margot Leadbeter. But the battle, that will continue to be fought, next Saturday, Waitrose, N20.

NB: my kids own Boden. I devour hummus by the bucketload. I no longer eat leeks.

Project 365: 29th January

2011-01-29T19:39:00.000Z

Thank you Mr Scruff

Project 365: 28th January

2011-01-28T21:54:00.000Z

Sleeping beauty

Project 365: 27th January

2011-01-27T20:33:00.000Z

On the tube into town

New friends

2011-01-27T09:20:00.000Z

Little P has two new friends - Nat and Mimi.

Nat likes to hide and goes to the toilet a lot. Mimi drinks tea and likes to eat her cake off the green plate.

Little P is so caring with them and always makes sure they have everything they need. Problem is she often gets sad in their company as they tend to play together and leave her out.

She tries to read them a book but her bottom lip drops when they won't listen.

But most of the time they have a whale of a time. They stamp their feet and march round and round in circles, singing at the top of their voices. And how they love to dance.

I wish I had friends like Nat and Mimi. I wish I had Little P's imagination.

Project 365: 26th January

2011-01-27T09:14:00.000Z

A red bow day

Project 365: 25th January

2011-01-27T09:12:00.000Z

Better than Beebies

Hush little baby

2011-01-26T11:27:00.001Z

For two nights on the trot the baby has slept through the night.

I love my boy to bits - obsessively so, but I could do without the 2am cuddles.

It's amazing how, in a sleep induced state, my mind alters, my boundaries of reason widen. "Oh ten more minutes more won't hurt, he'll settle himself soon" I think to myself, knowing full well he won't. And the passing of the buck - I've got a first honours degree in that one as I elbow Mr Scruff and say, "You go in and comfort him. One whiff of my milk and he'll never settle." And him being a man and knowledgeable enough to never, ever question mummy, let alone a half asleep mummy, he dutifully staggers into the room next door. Inevitably I end up in the room with them, tempers fray to demonic like proportions as the baby gets passed back an forth like a game of pass the parcel. It ends as I snap open the bra, sling the breast pad to one side and plop baby onto my boob muttering to myself that I should have just done this in the first place.

As I flop back into bed, Mr Scruff tries to make a comment such as "Did he feed", which is cut short by a curt sssushh from me. Peace resumes for another hour at least.

So you see these last two mornings when the sound of his crying has woken me and the first thing I have looked at is the clock, breath held, you can understand my joy when it read 6am.

Whether it will last, who knows, probably not. But for today at least I will be just like those gloaty mums and boast to anyone within ear shot that "Yes, my baby sleeps through the night."

Project 365: 24th January

2011-01-24T18:01:00.000Z

who ate all the olives?

Project 365: 23rd January

2011-01-23T21:08:00.001Z

Getting back to his cheeky self

Eczema, A&E and a pair of sleepless zombies

2011-01-22T20:38:00.000Z

WHAT a week.

So for the past 6 weeks the Boy has been all out of sorts. He had a cough and started waking up in the night. He seemed to get better but the night waking not only continued, it got worse. A lot worse.

I settle him at 7pm but by 10pm he is crying so we give him a bottle of expressed milk - about 8 or 9 ounces (you can not imagine how my nipples are being tortured by the Medela). By 3am he is awake crying. We have tried cuddling him, rocking him, leaving him to cry but he only thing that works is a quick snuggle up to me and my boobs. No sooner does our head hit the pillow but the duvet gets wafted off again as by 4am he wants a feed. By 5am he is awake again. And by 5.30am he has woken up his sister in the room next door, who complains to us that she can not sleep with "all this noise". By 6.30am its breakfast time.

About a week ago out of nowhere he developed eczema. My heart immediately sank - could this be a sign he has allergies, like his sister? I took him to the doctor and applied the creams prescribed over his skin but it got worse. I went back to the doctor as he was starting to weeze. Yesturday after a night of literally zero sleep, his face was swollen like a balloon. His eyes so red and puffy that he could not open them. His skin was red raw and absolutely covered in bumps. The skin behind his ears was weeping. And he was struggling, his chest weezing. he had no energy and just wanted to be held. We went straight to A&E.

Seeing my little baby Boy laying on the hospital bed, obviously in discomfort, not recognising him because of the rashes and swelling is tough to say the least. Add lack of sleep to the mix and emotional wreaks emerge.

He is now on antibiotics, special creams, piriton and antiseptic baths and he has been referred to the Children's Allergy Clinic where Little P is a patient. The chances of him having allergies and developing asthma are high but we will have to wait and see.

Today for the first time in weeks, we can see the Boy being his bonny self and his skin is definately improving. As for the sleep. Well, habits are hard to break. Yawn.

Project 365: 22nd January

2011-01-22T19:42:00.000Z

A hard day in the office

Project 365: 21st January

2011-01-22T19:41:00.000Z

A&E with poorly Boy

Project 365: 20th January

2011-01-22T19:33:00.000Z

Thrilled with my frills

Project 365: 19th January

2011-01-22T19:32:00.000Z

Treat to self

Project 365: 18th January

2011-01-19T21:15:00.000Z

Concentration with the playdoh!

Project 365: 17th January

2011-01-17T21:55:00.000Z

tiny footprints

Project 365: 16th January

2011-01-17T21:52:00.000Z

"no WAY"

Spring fashion!

2011-01-17T11:02:00.000Z

Cue plenty of excitement, clapping, and the occasional squeal.

Feeling rather down in the dumps last week, thanks to a stress over weaning, I was cheered up by the postie delivering the new Spring/Summer Verbaudet catalogue.

It's not that I love their clothes so much (although I do always purchase a few bits and pieces every season), it's the fact that Spring is in sight. The sunlight is at the end of the tunnel! And on such a dull day and bit of a light leafing is just the pick me up I need.

Quick of the mark, I have ticked some wish list items...

Roll on.....

Alas, nothing for the baby Boy - not even a Left Bank Breton style top. Why is it assumed that all little boys want to be dressed like mini extras from Dawsons Creek? Quel Demarche.

A sombre moment

2011-01-17T09:55:00.000Z

This post doesn't sing along with the usual tone of my blog, but I feel compelled to share.

I have just returned from taking Little P to the Childminders house. The traffic going was horrendous as the main road had been closed off by police, forcing me to choose an alternative route.

Upon arrival the Childminder answered the door with tears in her eyes. Whilst taking her son to the doctors earlier this morning she witnessed somebody being knocked down by a lorry. I embraced her. When I looked down at Little P she was looking up at us her eyes filled with tears, her mouth open silently sobbing.

It is something we all know, but occasionally need reminding - Life is precious.

Project 365: 15th January

2011-01-15T22:34:00.000Z

Welly boots

Project 365: 14th January

2011-01-14T21:30:00.000Z

Ching, ching

When to wean?

2011-01-14T09:21:00.000Z

Okay, I'm confused.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-12180052

When to wean has always been an issue with me. I have had pressure from my mum and Mr Scruff to wean my kids at 4 months, but with Little P I waited until her 6 month birthday. I moved very quickly and within a week she was self feeding a wide selection of finger foods.

The reason I waited was because she had very bad eczema and all the health visitors, websites and do gooders told me to wait because of the risk of allergies. As you know Little P is anaphalactic. Mmmm. So much for that theory.

Now, onto the Boy. He is a big lad and I am breastfeeding him. For the last three to four weeks he has been demanding feeds every three hours - including in the night. I am shattered. Three days ago I bit the bullet and gave him some baby rice. I was told, one teaspoon to start with. Yeah right, the Boy gobbled up the whole bowl (about ten teaspoons). This weekend I plan to introduce some pureed pear and so on. When he hits 6 months (in a months time), I will move onto a selection of finger foods and adapt the baby led weaning approach.

The thing is, for a week now the Boy has come out in severe eczema. Out of nowhere. The only thing I can think of that I have given him differently is the Nelsons Teething powders. They contain lactose. Has he got allergies too?

I am now fretting that I have waited too long to give him solids and I should have started a month ago when he showed signs that he was ready. Have I compromised his health and ignored his needs?

Another parenting issue to stress about.

When did you wean, and I am right to stress or should I just take a chill pill. Your comments are welcome.

Project 365: 13th January

2011-01-14T09:01:00.000Z

A day late, whoops!

Craving a bit of 'me' time

Project 365: 12th January

2011-01-12T20:28:00.000Z

The Boys very first baby rice dribble. I think he liked it!

Project 365: 11th January

2011-01-11T16:28:00.000Z

Ssssssshh!

Project 365: 10th January

2011-01-10T17:35:00.000Z

Looking out from my bedroom window at 7am this morning

Fly, little fairy

2011-01-10T12:33:00.000Z

From the moment she put on her white net tutu and beautiful fairy wings on her 2nd birthday, Little P transformed into (in her own words) a fairy princess.

she looks at her feet and asks for ballet shoes.... She twirls... She rummages through my ribbons and bows and drapes them around her hair... she struts in her room to the sound of her Red Bus in a pink feather boa.... She wears her fairy wings to bed....she clasps her hands, tilts her head, bats her lashes and says pleeeeese mummy.

Her girliness has taken us by surprise. You see from day one she's been a little rufty-tufty, desperate to climb trees, not afraid to fly off the back of the sofa, play with planes, trains and cars. And this hasn't changed. She still loves to get grubby knees but she has found her feminine side and she likes it.

White net tutu and fairy wings by The White Company - thank you auntie Sarah!

Project 365: 9th January

2011-01-09T19:47:00.002Z

Project 365: 8th January

2011-01-08T19:54:00.000Z

A walk in the park

And another thing...a New Year stern word.

2011-01-08T12:55:00.000Z

Resolutions? Pah, waste of time. What I need is a good ticking off.

"Those navy velour tracksuit bottoms. Yes, those that you are wearing right now and have worn every day for the last two years. Take them off. Comfy! Yes that's because you can fit three of your bums in them and they drag on the floor like a tramp. Juicy! Who do you think you are? Jordan?"

"Hate to break it to you, but looking at your jelly belly profile in the mirror everyday isn't going to make it suddenly shrink. Get down and give me twenty."

"Going to bed with mascara on means you are going to wake up with panda blood shot eyes. Fact."

"Waiting for Mr Scruff to decorate downstairs before you put any pictures up means a very long time with very bare walls. Get framing."

"No you will not do the ironing tonight. You will hit the sofa and not move. Do it now."

"Seven different types of gluten free flour in the cupboard. SEVEN. Stop buying the ingredients and start doing something with them."

"Having a doodle drawer is one thing. Actually doing some doodling is another."

"Ribbons in your hair, tights and a bit of blush make you feel happy. You can be bothered."

"The Boy IS getting enough one on one time. He doesn't need baby groups to make him happy. That scratch on Little P's nose will not scar. Pull yourself together woman. You are a paranoid loon"

"Nappy free time will always end up with a bucket and some cleaner. Trimming your fringe with nail scissors will always end in tears."

"Mr Scruff has needs. And so do you. Make time. End of."

Project 365: 7th January

2011-01-07T21:35:00.001Z

The heels get an airing!

what is project 365? Everyday this year I hope to take and then post up a picture from our day. Bets are off to see if I keep it up ;)

project 365: 6th January

2011-01-06T15:31:00.001Z

When it rains and pours, we are stuck indoors

Project 365: My year so far...

2011-01-05T19:23:00.001Z

January 1st

learning to fly

January 2nd

posing for the Christmas 'thank you' card

January 3rd

Transfixed by Beebies

January 4th

dressing up in mummy's ribbons

January 5th

Finding his feet

haircuts and waterbirths - what a year!

2010-12-30T22:18:00.038Z

Well along with the rest of you at this time of year I have been having a bit of a reminisce. Here's my year summed up in a sentence and the emotion that came with it.

in January I returned back to work after over a year off on maternity leave pregnant again. Anxious

in February I had my twelve week scan and found out that my baby was not developing well. Distraught

in March we had the all clear - our little boy was doing just fine. Relief.

in April we enjoyed the glorious sunshine and started clearing the garden in Fairy Cottage, digging raised beds for our vegetable patch. Happy

in May I stopped being anonymous on my blog and revealed the real me! Nervous

in June Little P hopped on the tantrum train and went from babbling baby to foot stomping toddler. Frustrated

in July we tried, and failed, to get Little P out of the cot and in to a bed, and I tried every trick in the book to turn my transverse baby. Determined.

in August I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Joy

in September I ran around like a headless chicken trying to adapt to life with two under two. Exhausted

in October I celebrated my birthday by cooking for sixty people I don't really know at someones elses celebrations. Accepting

in November I got my beloved and much missed fringe cut back in. Confident

in December we became party hosts as we celebrated Little P's 2nd birthday and the Boys christening at Fairy Cottage. Domestic!

It's been a roller coaster of emotions. There has not been much sleep and we have shed lots of tears. But we have also laughed, we have laughed a lot. in 2010 my family has grown in number and in spirit. 2011, whatever you have in store for me, the Scruffs are ready!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

egg, gluten and dairy free chocolate fairy cakes

2010-12-30T21:16:00.002Z

...and breath.

This is the first time in weeks that I haven't been off fulfilling some obligation or another. This Christmas has been a whirlwind. Some highs and some lows.

But before I launch into a host of posts on my emotional state of mind, let me share with you Little P's birthday cake.

She turned two on Christmas Eve and I was determined to bake a cake she could actually eat despite being allergic to traditional cake ingredients. I tried loads of recipes and these chocolate fairy cakes were a winner.

Its not often that I can say this but I was really proud of the results. Just seeing Little P being able to tuck in and enjoy them so much was the best feeling.

The cakes are ludicrously easy to make and are really tasty even if you don't have allergies like Little P.

150g/5oz Doves Wheat and Gluten free self raising flour
150g/5oz brown sugar
25g/ 1oz cocoa powder (I used green and blacks)
pinch of salt
120ml/ 4fl oz water
30ml/ 1fl oz vegetable oil
1 tbsp vinegar
1 tsp vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 180c, 350f, gas mark 4

In a large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients.

Make a well in the center and add the wet ingredients. Mix well and beat with a wooden spoon until smooth.

three quarter fill twelve fairy cake cases and bake for 20-25 minutes. Cool on a wire rack

She loved the theme and keeps asking me for another 'ladybird'...

This time...

2010-12-24T22:25:00.002Z

Three years ago ....

I was in a trendy pub sporting a new designer handbag, a gift from a big wizz beauty company. My head was spinning with champagne and my feet throbbing from pinching platforms.

Two years ago....

I was in the post natal ward kitchen as there were no more cubicles left in the ward. I was crying from trauma and exhaustion, my head filled with panic as I was left alone to look after this little baby girl in my arms.

One year ago...

I found out I was pregnant with baby number two. My whole body was anxious about how I would cope with another pregnancy, another baby. How would I walk back to work at the end of my maternity leave in one weeks time and tell them I am pregnant again.

Today...

I iced 24 home made lady bird cakes, sang "the wheels on the bus" with far too much enthusiasm, prevented a full blown battle over a Hello Kitty doll, entertained 8 two year olds in fairy cottage and then made it the local church crib service.

A lot can happen in a year....

HAPPY 2nd BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE ANGEL

HAPPY 1st CHRISTMAS MY BOY

And a Very Merry Christmas to you xxx

my very ow christmas fairy

early waking. A real head scratcher!

2010-12-20T21:33:00.000Z

The Boy has been waking up at 5am, sometimes 4am every night for the past week. It's so frustrating not to mention exhausting. Before then he was sleeping through just fine.

It is bringing up all the anxieties I have about breastfeeding.

In the early days with both children I would stress about not knowing how much they were getting from me, but they seemed to be doing well and eventually once they started to sleep through my anxietes would melt away along with my sleepless nights.

Little P slept through from twelve weeks, barely having a bad night. But the Boy is different. He is much bigger and I am paranoid that my milk supply is not enough. I am trying to eat well and rest, but thats easier said then done with two under two!

I have absolutely no opinion whatsoever on the whole breast is best debate. I simply believe Mum does what mum thinks is right for her and her family. End of. For me I really want to be able to feed him myself for his first six months, at least. I breast fed Little P for nine months and I feel what I did for her, I want to do for him.

The thing is, I am not sure it even is hunger that is waking him. He is still in our room (the decorating is still not finished), so maybe I am leaping to him too quickly, but crying in your ear is a hell of a lot more heart plucking than through a wall. So it may just be habit.

I am going to try and give him some water if he wakes tonight and see if that settles him. Otherwise I may just have to shrug my shoulders and accept that when it comes to babies, few questions are ever answered!

Ladybird party ideas!

2010-12-16T23:02:00.000Z

Little P turns two on Christmas Eve. In my usual style I will put one hundred and ten percent in to making her birthday very special. And in my usual style, things will go wrong. But the sentiment will be there.

With it being Christmas so few of her little friends are around, but so far I have a tally of about eight wee ones, which is more than enough to bring the roof down in fairy cottage.

Inspired by the fairy cakes I made at a recent cake decorating class, I have decided on a lady bird theme. It was going to be a lady bird and bumble bee party but I think coping with just the one bug is enough of an under taking.

my cake decorating efforts. I am going to attempt 24 for the party!

The invitations are in the post.

These were really simple to make and I really enjoyed doing it!

I've been desperately trying to find a good recipe for the cakes. Little P can not eat dairy, eggs or wheat so its been a challenge. But today I think I cracked it! I've ordered some red and black icing and bought a bubble machine. Only a few things left to tick! Can't wait!

-

Headless chicken

2010-12-16T22:32:00.000Z

Just thought I would drop by my own blog and say hi. You see these past few weeks I have been in a frenzy. We have a couple of big Christmas dos to host at Fairy Cottage, and not one to do things by halves I have been manic getting every thing ready.

I've been hunting and trying every dairy/ egg/ wheat free cake and mince pie recipe for Little P's birthday on Christmas Eve. I've been making lady bird invites, spraying snowflake stencils onto the windows, making gingerbread decorations, getting birthday and christmas shopping, oh and looking after the Boy who at four months is becoming quite the demanding little fellow.

I will post in more detail about everything thats been going on in the Scruff household once I get a spare minute. Phew!

Oh Christmas Tree, how big are your branches!

2010-12-12T08:21:00.000Z

My parents offered to get us a tree this year. We jumped at the chance and kindly asked if they would find us a nice big one. We have a house now and several very important festive parties to host (Little P's second birthday and the Boys Christening). We wanted it to be the focus of the house. The center piece. My mum brought it round this week with a grin on her face so broad. It's a stunner, she whooped.

So Mr Scruff put the base on and dragged it wrapped into the lounge. With scissors in hand he started to cut the net. We all watched and waited with glee and excitement and anticipation.

Do you remember the scene in National Lampoons Christmas Vacation when Chevy Chase unveils the Griswold family tree?

As Mr Scruff snipped through the net, the branches just sprung open spanning the entire width of the lounge! I wanted bushy and bushy is what I got. I wanted it to be focus of the house, not my actual house!

Next year, we'll get our own tree. And we'll take a tape measure!

Thankfully, my mum was up for playing swopsies. It does mean she will be unable to get to the door of her downstairs loo but we can actually now fit in our sitting room.

Home made mince pies. Don't try this at home.

2010-12-03T22:51:00.000Z

Not made from my own fair hands

There was a time in the not too distant past when an invite for drinks involved us arriving waving a bottle of vodka in the air with a "lets get this party started" cheer.

This week we had a social engagement that required a more sober entrance. A 'welcome to the area' drinks at the Vicarage. A new one on us. Never in all my years have I felt more Barbara Good. But what to take. What would Margot take? A bottle of olive oil? Too random. A tin of shortbread? Purleese have I really become that boring. Home made mince pies? Mmm, a bit W.I. but they are in season and how hard can they be to make?

In my quest to become a mum who bakes, I found a recipe on the Good Food website for gluten and dairy free mince pies. Perfect. Little P and all her allergies can then eat them too.

Right lets get started.....

100g/3½oz raisins

100g/3½oz Sultanas

100g/3½oz currant

50g/2oz cherries (if you use dried cherries they will not have any extra sugar, but glace ones will have sugar)

1 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp ground nutmeg

½ tsp ground mace

2 tsp ground cinnamon

50g/2oz vegetable suet (optional) I have never heard of Suet before and had to phone my mum from Sainsburys to ask what aisle I would find it in. It's vegetable fat and I bought Trex, which looks like lard. Hmmm.

½ Bramley cooking apple, cored and chopped but not peeled - I peeled mine because it looked a bit manky having picked it from the garden about a month ago.

1 lemon, cut into small pieces but not peeled

1 orange, cut into small pieces but not peeled

120ml/4fl oz brandy or whisky - I used only 3 fl oz because the look on Mr Scruffs face when I got the bottle out said "hands off my booze".

- Mix all the dried fruits with the spices and suet if you are using it.
- Put the apple, orange and lemon pieces in a food processor and purée.
- Add this mixture to the dried fruit along with the brandy or whisky.
- Mix well, cover and set aside for anywhere between two hours and 24 hours. Alternatively, you can place in sterilized jars and store for later use.

so far so straight forward, and I hasten to add, quite scrummy (if you can blot the lard bit out of your mind).

The pastry.....

375g/13oz gluten-free and wheat-free flour with xanthan gum OR 200g/7oz chickpea (gram) flour with 175g/6oz rice flour

150g/5oz butter OR dairy-free margarine

1 egg (optional)

- mix the flour and sieve into the bowl of a food processor.
- Cut in the butter or margarine and blend until it is forms crumbs.
- Add 8-10 tablespoons cold water. Mix to a dough and blend until it forms a ball.
- Remove from the processor and chill for 30 minutes.
- Pre-heat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4. Grease and flour your mince pie tins.
- Remove the pastry from the fridge, and roll out to a thickness of about 5mm. Cut the pastry in circles with a cutter slightly larger than the size of each pie, and line your mince pie tins with it, pushing the pastry up the edges.
- Spoon the mixture into each pie then rollout lids and top each pie, wetting the edges of the dough and pressing it together with your fingers.
- If you are using the egg, beat it in a bowl and brush the lid of each pie generously.
- Bake for around 20 minutes or until the pies are lightly browned and the pastry cooked.
- Remove from the oven and sprinkle with sugar if desired. Cool slightly before carefully lifting them out of the tins (running a sharp knife round the edges to loosen them helps) and cooling on a rack

I have never made pastry before, let alone attempted a gluten free one. My first batch refused to mould into a ball so I added a bit more water and ended up with a soggy mess. I tried adding flour and more marg but it had gone beyond repair. My second attempt rolled out fine, but once baked resembled plastic saucers rather than crumbly mince pies.

At 5pm I made a mercy dash to Sainsburys to buy ready made pastry.

Despite it splitting and sticking I managed to salvage a tray full of pies. Out the oven they came and a beam spread across my face. They looked like mince pies. Real mince pies.

They stuck to the tray like super glue.

I had a lovely evening. We met lots of new people and it was so nice to put names and stories to the faces we have seen on our street. And my tin of shortbread biscuits went down a storm!

A big thank you to Domestic Jules over at Butcher, Baker blog, who in my pastry-panic tweets sent me a recipe to try. I need a bit of a break before I get my rolling pin out again but for the baking mad, check this out...

Baby Bear

2010-12-03T13:41:00.000Z

Our snug little bear cub.

christmas 2008

2010-12-01T22:39:00.001Z

I was adamant I didn't want a tree. Not this year. I didn't want the hassle. Mr Scruff reluctantly obliged and brought home the smallest shrub he could find. We were set. Me, him, our two foot sprig and my bun in the oven cooked and ready for Christmas.

I was due on the 10th December. I loved this date. Ten is my lucky number, plus the baby would be here in time for me to hit the January sales.

Maybe it would come early? Whatever it would definitely come on time. Surely. I was absolutely huge and the head had been fully engaged for weeks. The weight was so heavy around my pelvis, I walked like John Wayne, fearing the baby would drop out should I pick up the pace beyond a slow waddle. And anyway everyone from the doctor, midwives and the cashier in Sainsbury's all told me I was ready.

I spent my due date at a breastfeeding workshop and the evening bouncing on my yoga ball.

Three more childless days went by. I went to the hospital for a sweep. Ouch! Surely that has to do something.

More days went by. I felt nothing.

I walked for miles. I bounced until my head felt dizzy. I moved around on all fours so my knees and wrists went numb. I ate curry followed by pineapple, followed by pineapple curry, I had sex. Heck, I even drank castor oil. There was no coaxing this baby out.

Twelve days went by. I turned my phone off fed up with the constant stream of "any news yet" texts and calls. I went back to the hospital for yet another sweep and a session with the acupuncturist that was so intense I felt like a human pin cushion.

It was Christmas in three days time. They wanted babies out so I was booked in that evening for an induction. And that was it. My time was up. No more chances for the baby to come of her own free will. I walked the two miles home in one last ditched attempt to get things started. But, you've guessed it, nothing. I got home and gathered all my things together. Panic set in. I was so anxious I couldn't see as my blood pressure shot through the roof. I was scared, I was nervous, torn between wanting it to happen and wanting to hide under my duvet. I both feared and yearned the unknown.

I walked through the doors of the hospital unsure what lay ahead, Mr Scruff lagging behind dragging the two bags and five pillows. (Yes I packed everything from lavender oil to blusher. And a novel. Fool).

At 3am I was induced. At 6am my contractions started. At 9am Mr Scruff arrived at the hospital. At 12 pm (just as they brought round crumble and custard for lunch), I was taken to the labour ward.

I will spare you the gory details of what happened over the next twelve hours, but I will tell you it was a drama. It wasn't what I had planned. This isn't what my hypno birthing and meditation prepared me for.

But, at 1.15am on 24th December 2008, finally, at last, my little girl arrived in the world. Healthy and screaming.

Relief, joy, exhaustion.

Never did a cup of Tetley and slice of Sunblest taste so good. After a reluctant shower (I mean honestly all I really wanted to do was stay very, very still), Mr Scruff was sent home and it was just me and my baby in a bed set up in the post natal kitchen because the ward was full up. Happy Christmas Little P.

I made it to my mums for Christmas lunch. At least I think I did. You see to this day I don't remember a thing. There are no photos either to jog a memory (as the family photographer I was, apparently, off duty). I don't remember going out. I don't remember eating lunch. I don't remember coming home. But I will never forget the overwhelming sense of joy that my little girl, my very own Christmas angel, was at last in my arms.

This post is part of the British Mummy Blogger 'A Christmas Carol' memory event....

Little P's homepathy treatment update....

2010-11-22T14:14:00.001Z

Initially Little P responded really positively to the homeopathic remedy. Since then I have been giving her two drops every other day for the last four days

Mmm. I am worried. Little P is an emotional wreak. I know from personal experience taking homeopathy can cause your emotions to rollercoaster if the strength is too high. She is like a dog chasing its tail, running round and round the room. Then she will suddenly stop and burst into tears. She'll then be really clingy and sleepy. She is sleeping really well but is being fussy over her food.

On the plus side, even though she has little patches of eczema showing up, it is not bothering her and I am able to control it with the Aveeno Cream, the homeopath recommend I use.

Thankfully today she seems back to her old self, but I am not a happy mum. I am worried that she is struggling to cope with the remedy and I am questioning very hard whether I am doing the right thing.

Homeopathy for kids allergies

2010-11-22T14:03:00.000Z

I have posted about how Little P's allergies and ezcema are not getting better. I am on constant guard watching every thing she touches and every one who touches her. I worry myself silly about her having an anaphalactic attack. I am the sort of person who can't just cross my fingers and hope she doesn't. I need some sense of control over a situation. Even if it comes to nothing, at least I did something.

A few people have mentioned to me that homeopathy works wonders for kids and this has been ticking over in my mind for some time. I consulted a homeopath during the final stages of my pregnancy to help turn my transverse baby and also to help bring on labour naturally when I was getting close to my induction date. I found that I responded to her and the treatment really well. Whether it actually did anything physical, I don't know, but it certainly gave me an amazing sense of calm.

So, last week I took Little P to see her and to discuss just how homeopathy may be able to help the condition.

During the appointment, we talked a lot about Little P's character - her likes, dislikes and personality traits. We also talked at length about her birth and her first six months. It was during this time that her eczema was very bad and she was a very, very distressed baby. All the while, Little P happily played with the toys in the office - a trait of hers I am very proud of. The homeopath explained how it works and assured me there are no side effects. It draws the eczema out of the body, which will result in an initial flare up, but eventually clear of her immune system.

On to the treatment itself. Before I could start giving her any homeopathy, I had to get some supplements to support the remedies. These don't come cheap but if its going to help, show me where to sign. After giving her the supplements for three days, I then started on the homepathy remedy - in Little P's case Nat Mur LM1. I have to put two drops in a bit of water.

Well, the reaction to the treatment has been instantly noticeable. Little P is on hyper drive. Its like she is on cloud 9. She is a very happy and energetic bubble anyway but it seems to have been turned up a notch. She is also telling me she is hungry, something she has never done before, so I am giving her little snacks between meals. Sorry to get graphic here but pooey, I am having to change her nappy three or four times a day and peg my nose while I do it! This is all really positive apparently and exactly what the homeopath hoped and thought would happen.

I'm now to give her two drops every other day and see what happens. Watch this space, and keep your fingers crossed for us.

Little footsteps

2010-11-11T12:56:00.000Z

12 weeks

A gummy problem!

2010-11-10T20:44:00.001Z

As I have gleefully shared with you, the Boy is such a happy baby. I can leave him in any arms and he is content. So yesturday for the first time I left him with my mum so I could take Little P to a homeopathy appointment (I am hoping it will help her allergies. I will report!)

At 5pm, when her appointment was supposed to have finished I got a call. All I could hear was screaming and a faint but very panicked voice asking if I was nearly home. Oh dear.

I ran home. Now please note, I don't do running. But the stress of hearing the Boy in such a pickle propelled me down the street at break neck speed as Little P yelled 'weeeeeeeeee' as she enjoyed the ride of her life in her Quinny Zapp.

As I approached fairy cottage I could see my mum in the kitchen rocking the Boy back and forth in a frantic manner and she had 'save me' written all over her face.

I scooped him up and gave him a big cuddle thinking a mummy cuddle may be all he needs. Still he cried. I plopped him on to the boob thinking he may be hungry. He guzzled. I expected calmness to descend, but oh no, he continued to scream. My heart was pounding. I am not used to seeing my baby distressed and it was plucking at my heart strings. I then ran my little finger along his gums. Bingo, I hit a hard spot.

It all came flooding back. Little P is only 22 months but there are lots of things about her time as a baby I have decided not to remember...teething topping the list!

Right, now where are you Bonjelo. Here we go again.....

This week we have been mostly.....

2010-11-10T10:05:00.000Z

Giggling
The Boy is not only a smiler, but a giggler too. His huge goggly eyes watch your every move as you potter about the room and if you stop and give him a little tickle he beams from ear to ear and if you start cooing he erupts into a chuckle.

Sleeping
Every night this week the Boy has slept soundly from 10.30pm to 7am. I could kiss you all as I flick away the matchsticks that have been holding my eyes open for the past three months. What is the secret? Bah, heck if I know, but I have my theory. His thumb. You see he has sucked his thumb for a few weeks and every time he stirs, in it pops. The perfect self soother.

sleeping soundly

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit
Little P is making perfect sense (to me anyway). Take the other night when I tip toed quietly into her room after lights out to retrieve my clothes (more of that later). As the floor board creeked she stood bolt up right in her cot and said as clear as crystal "Whats going on mummy, why are you in my room?"

Did I also mention that Little P has developed a strange obsession with swimming goggles, insisting she wear them every where we go. Mmmm?

Minding our P's and Q's
Along with her vocabulary, Little P's manners have hit the top spot. She is saying please and thank you at just about any opportunity. Not only that but she is very apologetic too. If she trips over a toy she says "Sorry toy", if she drops her spoon she says "sorry spoon" and so on.

Hitting the high notes
Because she is so busy apologising Little P's tantrums have toned down. Honestly she has barely had any this week. BUT when she does, fetch me my earplugs. On sunday, for example, Mr Scruff had to go out. Little P did not want him to go and bearing in mind she missed her sleep the day before so she was completely overtired, she stood in the middle of the kitchen and screamed. And I mean screamed, really screamed. Ouch.

Going on walks
Having not been to Hampstead Heath since we moved away from that area a year ago, I have walked there twice this week. It's breathtaking at this time of year.


The view from Kenwood House

running through the leaves

Ordering carpets
I never thought this day would come. Mr Scruff has spent months decorating the three bedrooms at Fairy Cottage and at last we are ready to order carpets. And boy do we need them. The house is freezing. I can not wait as it means I can put my interior designer hat on and get accessorising. It also means I may finally gain a wardrobe and the piles of clothes scattered around the three bedrooms can finally disappear behind closed doors.

Our old wardrobe...oh how I miss thee

getting crafty
With the kids too young to enjoy the big bangs, we celebrated fireworks night with some marbles dipped in paint and a pot of glitter. Voila!

Fringe benefits....

2010-11-04T14:59:00.001Z

I am going to book an appointment to have my hair cut. This means one thing. The return of my beloved fringe.

I have made no secret of my love of the humble fringe and have championed it in ELLE and to anyone else who will listen. Its a no brainer. It gives your hair an instant 'style' even if it hasn't been 'styled'.

Having been too pregnant or too post natal to visit the hairdressers, I have allowed my fringe to grow out. It has left me feeling, well, exposed. Naked. I posted a few weeks ago how self conscious I am feeling at the moment. My confidence wobbling like my jelly belly. So I am doing something about it.

I am determined to break my style rut. Rekindle my love affair with fashion. Learn to look after me, just a little bit, to help put the spring back in my step. I am going to cast aside the trackie bottoms that have not left my legs for a good four months, indulge my skin in some TLC and free my hair from the permenant top knot it finds itself day in, day out.

You see I am one of those people who saves anything half decent 'for best'. But with my social life consisting of rhyme time and a stroll around the park, that's as good as it gets. Granted the only people I see most days are the dog walkers and toddlers, but that's not the point. It's all about how good it will make me feel.

So step one is my hair. With two under two, I need low maintenance hair. I need it to look good whatever. Whenever. No blow drying, no products and certainly no tonging/straighteners or other such pampering pursuits. I need to be able to whip it to one side when the baby is on the shoulder, stick it up high when marching to the Grand ole Duke in a tropically heated play group, look fairly decent loose first thing in the morning when chasing the toddler down the street and withstand more than a few days without a shampoo.

I say you never, EVER go to the hairdressers without pictorial support. Unless your stylist knows you really well, I have learned the hard way that leaving them 'to do what they like' results in an embarrassed smile and thank you, followed by tears and tantrums at home.

I'm taking these......

I dream of one day, when I grow up, becoming a Chloe girl. The carefree attitude, the brow skimming lengths and the broiderie anglais. Sigh. A soft uneven fringe looks just as good as it grows out eliminating the need for unrealistic monthly trips for a fringe trim.

Should Jane Birkin, like me, happen to have lines on her forehead in this picture you can't see em can you. Genius. (I know, I know, chances are she is flawless but thats not the point).


My style crush Zooey Deschanel, has those dreamy layered bits down the side. So when you whip it up, they stay to frame your face and look so pweetty.

just because we all need a bit of a Bardot lift in our lives.

Hip Hip Horay!

2010-10-31T19:59:00.000Z

There is much celebration in the Scruff household. Having been a little fickle with his night waking, the Boy has slept through for three nights on the trot (from his 10.30pm dream feed to 7am). That, in my book, is worthy of a carnival.

It's also exactly one year ago today that I started She Was Not At All Domestic. With the prospect of returning back to work looming I started this blog as a way of getting back into the swing of things. Practice my writing. I wrote it thinking just one person would read it - my dear friend Vagabondiana, whose thoughts I cherish.

But then you all started reading and commenting and before I knew it I was sharing my life with a bunch of strangers! And my jove is it lots of fun. Your company round my gaff has allowed me to log all sorts of memories to keep for ever. I thoroughly enjoy sharing snippets of my life, pouring you a cuppa tea and filling you in with all my gossip.

So a good night to the boy, a big birthday cheer to my blog and happy Halloween to you....

Sunday, lovely Sunday

2010-10-24T21:03:00.000+01:00

I love sundays. Really love sundays.

I am sitting curled up on my sofa with a bit of a headache (the central heating is way too hot) but with such a feeling of contentment. You see no matter what happens during my week, I can always rely on sunday to make me smile.

It wasn't that long ago that my sundays went by in a blur of hangovers and lie ins. Now, Sunday in the Scruff household is always about us being together. The day starts with the sound of the nespresso machine gurgling to create a fresh hit of coffee. I get the kids ready as Mr Scruff makes poached eggs on toast.

"Helping" with the decorating!

We put on our sunday best (that's anything other than my usual ensemble of baggy jeans and a cosy cardie). In church we can be sure that Little P will do something embarrassing. Past highlights include shouting 'Bum' during prayers and carrying a five foot teddybear up the aisle to the vicar. But despite such antics, It's the one time and place where I have Mr Scruff on hand to help...we are all in these 'red face' moments together!

The afternoon is spent muddling. Little P spends time with her daddy, picking apples in the garden or mowing the lawn. And after a trip to the park we all sit down for a roast dinner. Yum.

fun in the park

The days ends with telly and cup of tea.

And that's it. Hardly exciting is it? But for this one day in the week routines, schedules, appointments and commutes don't exist. It's quite simply just 'us'.

Hello Kitty

2010-10-23T21:28:00.001+01:00

I did the cruelest thing a wife can do to her husband.

Despite him having a force ten hangover from hell, I made Mr Scruff travel on the bus and tube to Covent Garden so Little P could meet Hello Kitty!

I take my hat of to him. He did it with barely a complaint. I was slightly concerned when he was holding the Boy on the bus and a woman started talking to him. One whiff of his booze breathe and all sorts of assumptions could be made!

Anyway we made it to the Artbox shop. Little P was fast asleep so I can only imagine what went through her head when we roused her and there standing in front of her was a seven foot moving, dancing, waving Kitty. Her idol.

Her reaction was typical of P. She smiled from ear to ear, pointed at Kitty and said "funny". With that she wondered off in the other direction.

Despite much coaxing from us, she wouldn't go and shake Kitty's hands. Instead she looked on from afar, pointing, laughing and admiring the enormous pink shoes Kitty was wearing.

Little P staring at the shoes!

I am so glad we made the effort to venture into town. Despite living in London, we so rarely do, but we have vowed to get the kids more involved in their city and all it has to offer. Hopefully little jaunts like this will stay in Little P's mind and form memories that will last a lifetime .

(lack of) sleep update

2010-10-23T08:04:00.000+01:00

Since my post on getting the Boy to sleep through the night he has since regressed. The next night it was 5am, the night after 4am and last night he woke for a feed at 3am. Never was a victory so short lived. Humpf.

My night icing buns

2010-10-22T20:36:00.000+01:00

Last night I went to a cake decorating workshop. I have never been to a cake decorating event before. In fact I have never decorated a cake before. I am fairly new to the area and I thought it would be a good way to meet people.

I am a shy person at the best of times and I cannot remember the last time I left the house without a child or husband in tow, so my social skills are a little rusty. My confidence was not helped by the fact that the first person I was introduced to apologised for nearly knocking me down in the carpark "especially in your condition". That's one way to break the ice. So feeling a tad self conscious and sucking my tummy in I gulped a mouthful of Cava and concentrated on the cakes.

Oh dear, I really need to learn to tidy up after myself!

The organisers had made a huge selection of naked cupcakes ready for dressing. There were pots of glitter, edible balls, chocolate sprinkles, little stars, coloured icing, cutters, rolling pins, whipped cream, piping bags and the most gorgeous collection of cup cake books for inspiration. It was a sugar coated explosion of accessories.

I set to work trying a lady bird design first - Little P's favourite (such a shame she cannot eat it with all her allergies). I quickly discovered the art to successful cake decoration is to be a tidy worker. I am a messy person and within minutes all my rolled icing was covered in corn flour. Never mind, I was enjoying myself. In fact I was surprised at just how creative and fun it is. You can create just about any design with a bit of imagination (and a steady hand).

My six designs. I don't think I will be publishing a cook book just yet!

I managed six cakes, trying various different techniques. For a first attempt I am really proud of my designs but best of all I really think I could get into this. Its Little P's birthday in December and I am inspired to do a bee and ladybird theme party and find a recipe for an allergy free cake to decorate for her. Make room people, there's a new cup cake queen in the making!

my bug buddies!

A few tips I picked up:
-coat the top of the cake with syrup before starting
-dust a small amount of corn flour on your board before rolling
-try not to get corn flour on the top side of the icing.
-work with small sections of icing at a time
-wipe cutters clean between colours
-use water to in between icing layers to make it stick

Time for a haircut?

2010-10-22T08:49:00.000+01:00

Every morning when I go into Little P's room, I am not greeted by my little angel saying hello. No. I am faced with Cousin It.

Clock watching in the night.

2010-10-21T15:21:00.000+01:00

Yes son, we are all tired

Last night we had a break through. I didn't feed the Boy until 6.09am...yes, read it my friends and cheer. 6.09am.

The last couple of weeks I have been trying all sorts of tricks to try and encourage the Boy to sleep longer through the night. You see for ages he was waking at 2am and 5am. I'd hear him snuffle awake next to me, I'd sit up and look at the clock holding my breath in the vain hope it would be a bit later. No such luck. I'd put him on my boob and then he'd nod off without even taking a drop. Humpf. At 5am he'd have a quick snack but then when it came to feeding him in the morning, he wasn't a bit interested. Bad habits had formed. He's also a whopper, so I knew he was capable of going for longer between night feeds.

So, one night I gave him cooled boiled water when he woke between 2am and 3am. He played about but took about 2ounces before nodding off. He then woke at 5am and I fed him.

After a couple of nights, he started waking between 3am and 4am. Progress. Except suddenly he didn't want water. I tried a dummy. Well low and behold he loved it and within seconds had nodded off again. I'd like to note that Boy isn't a bit interested in a dummy any other time. I'd go so far as to say he actually turns his nose up when I tempt him with one.

After a couple of nights of this I suddenly panicked that he was getting into a bad habit. Waking just for me to give him his dummy. I had visions of me traipsing in to his room in the middle of the night just to pop it in his mouth. So I held back. He grizzled. Even let out a bit of a cry, but within minutes he was back snuffling like a little piglet.

A few nights ago he woke. I looked at the clock. It was between 4am and 5am. I silently punched the air, before feeding him.

The next night when I looked at the clock it was gone 5am. I did a silent wiggle and whoop.

And then last night, or should I smugly say this morning, he made it to 6.09am!

Now, I'm not entirely new to this game so I know that tonight could be a whole different ball game and he will wake up at whatever time pleases him, be it 6am or heaven forbid 2am again, and he will demand what ever he wants - water, dummy, boob. And yes I will give it to him. But until then, I am allowing myself a small and silent victory dance.

LAMB CHOPS AND BUTTERFLIES: damn you cold snap, you're playing silly buggers with my skin...

2010-10-19T14:25:00.000+01:00

I'm cold. The little hairs on my arms are standing to attention. I want to get into bed early and not get out of it in the morning. I crave a whiskey and my mums shepherds pie. I am using my baby as a hot water bottle.

My love of a cosy cardigan is being embraced. The stress of hunting out the ultimate pair of boots has commenced. A Marks and Spencer crew neck jumper in an oatmeal shade will be purchased.

But before I start fussing over my fashion, I need to address my skin. You see it doesn't like change. Hates it. It gets all stroppy. It starts flaring up. It sulks; giving me a sullen, gray glare. I need to show it some love.

What I want is a cream that will make me feel better just by opening the lid. I want it to look like whipped little peaks. I want to be able to slap it on in the morning and not worry about a billion other 'layers'. I want it to protect yet pamper. I want it all and I want it now.

These may not be brand spanking new, but they are tried and tested favourites. A serving of any one of these everyday and your skin will show its appreciation.

Jack Frost and all your skin demons - pah, on ya bike.

Elemis Pro Collagen Marine Cream. This is such a great anti aging cream and is loved by lots of my beauty editor buddies. It gives skin that cushion feeling that I crave and leaves it with a sheen that screams "I'm hydrated whoop whoop". Its pricey but when I use this I don't feel the need to use a serum.

Yes I do believe all the hype. Its a good price and it does what it says it will do. What more can I ask for, eh?


Ah Ole Henrikson. A very very lovely man indeed who is fabulous for a bit of Hollywood gossip. He regularly pampers Katy Perry and the scrumptious Charlize Theron. I love that this has a SPF and that it imparts a lovely glowy radiance. I rate this. A Lot.

This parenting lark has turned me soft....

2010-10-19T08:46:00.000+01:00

Ask me who is number one in the charts and I'll look at you blankly. I haven't got the foggiest. In fact I couldn't name one person or band that is in the charts at all. I mean I could hazard a guess and say Lady Gaga? And um, um, ummmmmmmm.......

Yet ask me what the lyrics are to the CBeebies Autumn Ditty and I will burst in to song. I know because I googled them.

One, two, one, two, three, four.
Season of bliss and mellow fruitfulness,
Ripe and sun kissed in golden happiness.
Picking and storing,
Whilst summer is snoring,
Autumn has come.
Season of bliss and mellow fruitfulness,
Ripe and sun kissed in golden happiness.
Picking and storing,
Whilst summer is snoring,
Autumn has come.
Season of bliss and mellow fruitfulness,
Season of bliss and mellow fruitfulness,
Season of bliss and mellow fruitfulness.
(Brown leaves are falling down, down, down onto the ground)

8 week jabs...boo hoo

2010-10-13T09:44:00.000+01:00

Poor Boy. Yesturday I posted about what a little smiler he was, well since then he's lost his mojo.

He had his eight week jabs. His immediate reaction was good. He screamed but was quickly comforted by a mummy cuddle. But an hour or so later he was still grizzling and despite it being no where near is feed time, he fed like he'd never been fed before, gulping the milk down frantically.

He went down well at bedtime, but when I went to him for his dream feed at 10.30pm, he was so distressed. It was so hard for Mr Scruff and I as Boy so rarely cries, and certainly not like this. He didn't want milk, we burped him, cuddled him and rocked him, yet the screams continued.

In the end we reached for the Calpol. I didn't like giving it to him as he is only two months today but if he was in pain I wanted it to go away for him. I then held him high on my shoulder and slowly jogged on the spot, doing a little dance (a trick I discovered when Little P suffered with colic). I patted my hand on his back like a heart beat and eventually he drifted off. He slept till 4.30am when I fed him and then through to 7.30 this morning.

Today he seems happy. He is still a bit more quiet than usual but I have had a couple of his sunny smiles.

I've got to book the appointment for the next lot in a months time. Not looking forward to that day.

Smile!

2010-10-12T14:33:00.001+01:00

My Boy smiles. He smiles a lot. Whatever the hour, whoever the person cooing at him, he beams from ear to ear. When I hold him in my arms his eyes are so wide and full of love a look of pure contentment spreads across his face. As for me, my heart leaps out of my body, cartwheels and cheers with pom poms.

This isn't what babies do. Well not my babies. Little P was not a happy baby. From day one she was tense, insecure and seemed to have a black cloud hovering over head. She had a terribly traumatic entry into the world, I was not in a happy place for the first couple of months and she was riddled with allergies and eczema. (Thankfully by the age of six months she blossomed into the bubble of fun and delight she is now). In stark contrast, the Boy had a great birth, I am in good spirits and he is thriving on mummys milk. I'm guessing that's why he is so happy.

Every day I wake up and think today he will realise that he is supposed to make himself heard. But until that day comes I will savour every smile.

Retail (I need) therapy...

2010-10-11T21:17:00.000+01:00

Pah! Where have I been?

Not in the shops, that's for sure.

Shopping was once my favourite hobby. And I am quite the pro. You want to know which day of the week each shop receives new stock? Ask me. Is there a sale on? My nose would be pressed against the window. I love rummaging through rails unearthing new gems. I love the thrill of spotting a must buy. I love tapping in my PIN and skipping off with a bag swinging by my side. I admit, I rarely keep any of my purchases. I am just as keen to refund and enjoy the money returning into my account. Since the last three years all I seem to have been is pregnant, my purchases are mostly for under threes, but that hasn't spoiled my fun. No, the downpour on my parade comes courtesy of Little P.

Entering a shop with her is like waving a red cloak at a bull. Her impatience and overwhelming disdain of shops is evident instantly. A mere five minutes in any retail establishment with P and I emerge shaking. Her reactions vary from temper tantrums to eyeing the china department in John Lewis as the best playground EVER.

So long Brent X, au revoir Oxford Circus, you've lost a loyal friend. I'm now shopping on line.

Gap, Zara and Hennes have, at last, joined the online shopping ranks. Never have I had to type my password so much. The soreness of my fingertips soothed by the excitement of signing for a parcel.

So just what has been ripped open over my lounge floor....

ZARA

Mini Boden

H&M

Gap