On Saturday, George and Sophie were invited to a friends ‘Tutus and ties’ birthday party. She is turning three and is completely obsessed with all thing ballerina. I couldn’t wait to get them all dressed up, in fact, we were the first to arrive.

The birthday girl had her ballet teacher come and give a little class for the children, it was so cute…

George, however, was not quite as enthusiastic about the dancing as all of his tutu wearing friends. He refused to even join in until I told him that it was the only way he was allowed to have some birthday cake. I know that’s awful, but I felt bad that he was the only one sitting by himself on the side lines. Sophie was twirling and jumping and fully embracing the princess vibe. George was really not loving it, bless him. Although he was grumpy the entire time, he was so entertaining and really made us all laugh. He really doesn’t hold back how he feels when something doesn’t impress him!

My friend had gone all out with the decorations and food, she really did an amazing job. It made me reflect on my own opinion of kids birthday party’s. I have never had a birthday party for either of my children, is that bad? They are only little so maybe it’s not too unusual but George will be four this year and I don’t know what to do! His birthday is two days after Christmas (I know, poor boy) so his friends are always busy. We always mark the occasion somehow, of course, by doing something that he enjoys but not a party. When is a good age to start party’s? Do you put a lot of effort into decor and themes or keep it simple? I want them to have happy birthday memories, it’s just not easy to decide how exactly to create them.

George was the happiest little boy ever when he finally got his cake. Him and his sister were savouring their delicacy long after their friends had got bored of eating and set off twirling again. My kids know where it’s at.

Gemma

Saturday was my husbands birthday so we decided on a last minute day trip to France. We took the ferry from Dover to Calais and then drove south along the coast. It was an absolutely beautiful day and we had previously always driven along the main roads so it was nice to go exploring.

We came to a little town called Le Touquet which I had never even heard of before this trip. I had dozed off to sleep momentarily (it was a very early start) and when I opened my eyes I thought I was in some enchanted forest. It was one of those roads where there are huge tall trees on either side that bend in and meet in the middle so that the sun just shines through in shards onto the road. It was sooooooo pretty!

After the trees we came to the gorgeous town right on the coast where we stopped for a walk about and some lunch.

We had the Frenchist French baguettes you can imagine before heading to the beach. The kids splashed around and had the time of their lives building sandcastles.

When I told my lovely American friend (you know who you are) that we were going to France for the day on the ferry, she asked me how long it would take us to get to Paris. When I told her we weren’t going to Paris she gave me a very puzzled expression. Why would we go to France unless it was to visit Paris?

It really was a magical day and made me want to go back to Le Touquet for a whole week rather than just a day. It seemed to have everything for the perfect family holiday and I would love to spend some more time there one day.

Gemma

When I was pregnant with my first baby, I felt like I wanted to document all of the little details about my pregnancy so that I wouldn’t forget anything. I also wanted to have something that I could give to my baby one day that they could read and keep forever.

There were so many ‘baby books’ in the shops but I didn’t really like any of them, they all seemed a bit structured and prescriptive. So, I decided to just make my own. I spotted the green notebook with the elephant on the front and thought it was perfect for a memory book, an elephant never forgets after all.

I began by writing about the thoughts and feelings I had when I first discovered I was pregnant. I wrote down how things were going in early pregnancy, any cravings I had, scan photos, everything.

I can’t explain how much I loved documenting everything and putting my feelings on paper. It was such an exciting time and when I look back now I can feel that excitement again, jumping off the page.

As I had done it for my first baby, I had to carry on the tradition for the second. I found a similar book and got to work and enjoyed it just as much. It made me feel closer to them somehow, like I was talking to them before they had even arrived. They will see how much I wanted them and loved them before I even set eyes on them, I hope that they feel that when they read it.

It hasn’t just been a baby memory book, but I have carried it on as the children have got older. I write in it whenever there is a milestone in their lives or if they do something funny. I write about family occasions and things we’ve been doing day to day. I love looking back and remembering things that I know I would have forgotten had it not been for the book.

I think everyone should do this in one form or another. Whether it’s online or an old school book like mine, it doesn’t matter. Just write down your memories, you won’t regret it.

I hope that my children will love and cherish these memories as much as I do one day.

Gemma

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day so we headed out to enjoy the sunshine. We were meeting some friends at the Diana, Princess of Wales, Memorial Playground in Hyde Park. It is a stunning free play area with a huge pirate ship surrounded by a beach as the main attraction.

We arrived around 11am and it was already soooo busy. I guess I had forgotten that it is still school holidays and the sun was shining which is a bad combination when it comes to busy London attractions.

We eventually found our friends and George was just begging me to let him climb aboard the pirate ship. We dumped our stuff and Sophie and I followed an insanely excited George to the entrance of the ship. He climbed aboard with his little friend and they headed ‘below deck’ to play. Sophie and I waved at him through the port holes and watched him digging in the sand and basically having the time of his life.

Sophie is still a bit little to climb around on her own so I just followed her as she explored and played in the sand, staying close to the pirate ship and keeping George in view.

George shouted to me through the port hole that he was going to come up top and meet me so that he could give me the bucket he had finished playing with. Sophie was running in all directions so I had to get hold of her then make my way around the ship. Bear in mind, this whole time you are surrounded by excited children shouting and screaming and pushing past you.

We made it to the other side of the ship but there was no George. I looked through the little windows and couldn’t see him. I waited for him to come up the steps but he didn’t. I shouted his name but he didn’t answer. I went back to my friend to see if he was there and he wasn’t. She immediately took one side of the park and I took the other, shouting his name and scanning the crowd.

I expected to see him within a minute or two but I didn’t. That’s when I could feel the panic start to rise up inside of me. I kept telling myself that he was there somewhere just happily playing, blissfully unaware that I was even looking for him. As time went on though and I periodically saw my friend shake her head to say she hadn’t found him yet, all sorts of other terrifying thoughts started flooding my mind.

‘What if someone has just scooped him up and taken him?’

‘What if he has hurt himself and is lying alone somewhere bleeding?’

‘What if he is looking for me and can’t find me and is feeling scared and abandoned?’

It was horrible. I started to run around that park, shouting his name and looking like a crazy woman. I felt so envious seeing all of the other children and parents enjoying their care free day, just as we had been doing a few minutes earlier. I wished I could turn back the clock and just see where he went. I decided to head to the exit to make sure that he hadn’t wondered all the way out of the park.

I literally bumped right into him and hadn’t even realised. He was holding the hand of a lady who I think worked there but I still can’t be sure. His little tear stained face looked so scared and upset. I just grabbed him and hugged him, feeling such relief to have him in my arms where he belonged. I thanked the kind lady and just carried on holding my boy. ‘I couldn’t find you Mummy, I was really scared’ his quivering little voice exclaimed as I showered him with a million kisses. I felt so guilty that he had been so scared and I hadn’t been there.

He had told the lady what I was wearing so that they could both look out for me in the crowd. When I found this out, I felt really proud that he hadn’t just cried and cried but had used his little brain to think about how he could find me. Children are much more sensible than we give them credit for.

It really was one of the scariest moments of my life, to think that I might have lost him. It makes you realise how much your children need you, but also how much you need them. I’m thankful for this happy ending.

Gemma

Sometimes, I just have a bad day. Like everyone, we all have the odd bad day. Some bad days are more bad than others and some are just a bit bad.

Today my three year old declared through tears ‘I’m having a rough day, Mummy!’ This kind of made me laugh and cry all at the same time. I wondered what constitutes a rough day for him. For me its when I’m tired and I want to get things done and I can’t and the kids are going crazy and my house is a tip etc. But for my three year old boy, I’m sure his ‘rough day’ is for very different reasons.

He can’t handle it, for example, when his one year old sister fails to follow his instructions. ‘Sophie, don’t touch my Lego house ok?’ Sophie proceeds to remove the roof from the Lego house and that is pretty much all it takes for George to go into total meltdown.

‘Why is Sophie not listening to me Mummy? Why does she want to brake my things? Why does she always want to play with what I’m playing with?’ For him, this is a recipe for the beginning of a rough day.

Another contributor is when I don’t allow him to constantly eat. He would literally snack all day long if I let him and he tells me how his tummy says it needs some more food. Even if I tell him he just needs to wait a little while, the meltdown begins again. Do I give in? Sometimes I do…

George is a very sociable little boy and loves to play with his friends. He often makes up games for them to play and tends to dictate roles and responsibilities for his little buddies. If protocol is not followed exactly as George has planned, things can go wrong. It makes perfect sense to him that he and his fireman friends need to immediately put out the fire in the corner of the room. It’s not always as obvious to his fellow fire fighters, which doesn’t go down well.

In George’s little mind, these things are so major and impacting on his moods and emotions. With this is mind, I try my hardest to be patient with him and listen to his concerns. I want him to know that he is important and that how he feels matters to me. I want him to know that I will listen to him if he wants to express himself. I might not always be able to fix things or give him what he wants but I will try to never dismiss how he feels.

He is little but he has real worries that are as real to him as my worries are to me. They’re different but no less important.

Today we met up with a good friend of mine from university. She was coming into town from the east and us from the west so we needed a suitable meeting point.

Since having baby number two I’ve been a total wimp about using the tube. I’ve got a double pushchair because George still likes to be pushed around if we are going any sort of distance. The few times I have braved it, I have been happily surprised about how helpful people are on the stairs. Without fail, someone has always stopped to help me either by carrying the pushchair or a child for me and that always warms my heart a bit.

However, I find those moments soooo awkward! I’m approaching the stairs which I know full well I can’t get up unless someone stops to help. I get closer and closer and glance around wondering who the poor Samaritan will be who will save me from my fate. Then, it happens. “Do you need a hand up the stairs?” “Oh, yes please!” I reply, sounding like I’m really surprised to be asked and was totally intending to march on up the steps by myself.

Then comes the next stage of this tricky encounter. I take George out of the pushchair, as he can walk up the stairs himself, but I’ll usually leave Sophie in situ. The kind soul (willing to help but clearly in a rush) then grabs one end of the pushchair and starts striding. I’ve silently been praying that they go for the handle bar end but this is a rarity. I am now going up the stairs carrying the full weight of the pushchair and desperately trying to keep up with my new friend. There is no way on earth I could, or would, exclaim a ‘hang on a sec’ or ‘slow down a bit.’ I am, after all, indebted to this hero without whom I’d still be at the bottom of the stairs. I just make it to the top and I go overboard with the gratitude. “Ah, thank you SO much. I’m really grateful, thank you.” By which time, they’ve already tapped their oyster and disappeared through the barrier safe in the knowledge that they’ve done something good in the world. I really am genuinely grateful to this person but also very glad this sweaty, weightlifting experience is over.

As, I’m sure, are they.

So, today I chose outbound and inbound stations that both had lifts.               Problem solved.

 Gemma

First blog post ever! I don’t know exactly what I’m going to write about but I feel like writing so here I go.
I’m excited to start this blog and write about my family life in West London. My two little monkeys keep me very busy but I’m hoping this will give me a little ‘me time’ back now and again.
Sophie (21 months) is having a lovely nap and George (3 1/2) is watching Thomas the Tank. We just got back from a week long trip to Yorkshire to see the in-laws so it’s one of those laundry, food shopping, sorting stuff kind of days.
I’ve just been food shopping and bought a tonne of healthy food. I’ve had a real junk food few weeks and feel like it’s time to get sensible. No more eating Nutella from the jar (for now anyway.) I’m determined to actually use all of the yummy healthy food I’ve bought rather than end up chucking it out which, I’m ashamed to say, often happens. What I find soooo helpful is to make a meal plan at the beginning of the week. Maybe that sounds super boring but it’s actually life changing, no exaggeration. I did my meal plan, I’ve bought everything I need for my meals and now I can just focus on cooking it all. I don’t know about you, but one of the most taxing parts of the day is the ‘what the heck am I going to make for tea’ moment that seems to come around all too quickly. When I’ve already planned it out, the choice is already made which I find is half the battle.

So here are my semi healthy, very simple meal plans for the next five days:

• Monday: Salmon, sweet potato wedges, veg
• Tuesday: Jacket potatoes with chili (tuna for the kids) and salad
• Wednesday: Pasta with home made spinach sauce (cream cheese, spinach, parmesan, lemon juice, pine nuts all blitzed up)
• Thursday: Chicken and bacon salad
• Friday: Butternut squash risotto

I would absolutely LOVE some more meal ideas so please feel free to share. It’s still easy to get stuck in a meal rut so lets keep changing it up.

Gemma