Holiday 2015

We came home from holidays with more Lego, a giant magnet, some champers and strawberry jam and a fresh outlook on life, job done.

It's only fair I split the photos over a couple of posts, lest you nod off. Here goes.

Sand, as usual featured heavily in holiday pursuits. We happened upon the town Carnival by chance when we visited St Annes. We also came across this lovely park.

I'm not sure who loved this more, me or her.

Fleetwood wins for prettiest beach huts.

The baby was a rockstar. He napped on the hoof, ate on the hoof, waved his chubby feet in the air like he just didn't care. Top marks little man, your chill attitude kept me sane for sure.


We were lucky with weather and only had one rainy day. We went to Lancaster and we found that the Museum of Childhood was having small Lego exhibition. We couldn't miss that:)

The kids cracked open their holiday money and Grier chose this paint your own treasure chest. And Brodie chose......


The farmhouse we stayed in turned out to be just beautiful. We had seen photos online before we travelled but it was so much more in the flesh. It was the dream of someone who not so secretly harbors living in rural, isolated farmhouse fantasies.

I have a sink at home identical to this one. I've never thought to bath the baby in it though.

The aga proved very handy for drying baby buns.

We enjoyed our eggs in the morning. 

I've been pestering Greig for a while about a patch of poppies in fields near our house. I really don't see what could possibly go wrong with stopping at the side of the road and ferrying three children into said field to take photos. He thinks because I found this patch of poppies on holiday my urge is satisfied. It is not.

Does anyone else see teenager?

There's more where these came from, many more. Hurry back!

Golden Hour

I really want the kids to remember the evenings we abandoned baths and balanced meals and sensible bedtimes and threw together a poorly conceived picnic and headed to the country park. I want them to do it for themselves one day, to forgoe what they should do for what feels good. To make the most of sunshine and loved ones and squeeze the last drops out of the day.

Somtimes doing less feels like living more, would you agree?

He's my brother

I've been threatening to do this for weeks.

For those who haven't been in my living room. The photograph is Brodie. The poor, unsuspecting baby is Baxter.

They are physically so similar it is quite strange. As Baxter gets bigger we all thought he would look less like his big brother but I think his expressions are so like Brodie's they are eerily familiar.

Of course they are different little boys, with different personalities and unique places in our family but it is very fun to see them side by side as it were. I feel like a human 3D printer......

Brodie at Six

When I had a baby six years ago smartphones were not really a thing and there was no tv on demand. I know. I know.

How did I survive breastfeeding my firstborn? I'll tell you how - by browsing the internet on the laptop using my toes. I'm not even kidding.

But a lot has happened since then, Brodie is six. Six years old, six years wonderful.

Dear Brodie

You can run so fast, ride a bike, read a book, compose a song and a million other fantastic things. In the past year since your fifth birthday you have discovered Star Wars, discovered football and discovered that chocolate flavoured cereal 'Os' exist. You are a boy with a big heart, a gentle touch, an easy humour and an iron will. A good combination I like to think.

You are as curious as ever, your smile is truly contagious. You like to make up rhymes and you flip numbers around in your brain, playing with them. You love playing Star Wars Lego on the Wii with your Dad.

You play with Grier a lot. You like to play Pirates, or Star Wars or sometimes Fairies at her request. You lie beside Baxter and talk to him stroking his soft cheek and you become visibly upset when he cries and you think  he is sad. Big brothering is your jam and your siblings adore you, as do we.

At not quite six you have retained an innocence which I wish I could preserve in you forever. You are open and come by your happiness and hurts honestly.  I see your Dad in you, the wish to keep life simple and take people by their word. You see the best in the world and it's inhabitants.

You think there is nothing funnier than nonsense words and changing the words to any of your favourite stories has you in hysterics.

I am revelling in this time of knowing what will make you laugh, knowing which toys will light up your eyes, how to make it better when it goes wrong, because something tells me it won't last forever......

Have the happiest of birthdays my lovely boy, I love you to the moon and the stars, to Jupiter and Mars.

Love Mum x



Perhaps there are more productive things I could be doing with my time.But instead here I am looking through photos of Brodie to see how much Baxter looks like him. Poor boy children, all this comparing and contrasting is bound to lead straight to therapy. If you'd like to join me in the comparisons and also consider contributing to the boy's future therapy bill, read on.





I could do this all day but unfortunately I have children to pyjama. This is likely to become a regular thing though, just so you know:)