I used to be fiercely principled about where I would and would not shop, among other things.

Once, a good friend mentioned that it must be exhausting to have so many principles. It took me awhile to realise what was exhausting was to have to deal with mine.

And then I had kids, and had other things to think about with far less (any?) disposable income to spend. So other than my refusal to spend money in Primark, I’ve kind of stepped down from my soapbox.

But the other day I was looking at one of those photos that has gone viral on Facebook about a bookshop supporting charity and Amazon not even paying taxes… And since working in town again, I’ve noticed so many boarded up shops…

And I don’t like it.

I don’t like the fact that T*sco are completely irresponsible and are welknown for underselling farmers and having questionable trading standards.

I don’t like the fact that Primark sells clothes at such a cost that they are disposable, and yet at what cost to those making them?

I don’t like the fact that towns are filled with boarded up shops.

I don’t like the fact that hens and ducks are kept in barns where there is no sunlight or room to move.

But these are first world concerns, despite effecting the whole world. And they are middle class battles.

Sometimes it is exhausting just considering it all.
So where do we start?

One of the main things that prevents me from posting frequently is photos, or the lack there of. Yes, my husband is a photographer, and in this house we have 2film cameras, 2 compact cameras and 2 professional standard digital slrs…. But being on the right device/login with the right photos uploaded seems to be more than I am capable of on a day-to-day basis.

Alas, I am writing a photo less entry.

My brother moved in last week. Those of you who don’t know me well enough may think that having 3 adults to only 2 children would mean that th households running smoother and things are tidier. Those of you who know me properly would understand that the chaos has just been multiplied! He’s being a wonderful houseguest- loading/unloading the dishwasher, offering for us to go out at night whilst he stays in with the kids, cooking – so really it’s me. Or maybe it’s having someone else’s eyes always on my house that is making me see the chaos more clearly?

Regardless, it is making me take stock, which is (in my humble opinion), a good thing. Stock of my habits, of my house, of what I want from both things. So yesterday a few minutes of tv based distraction for the kids lead me to carry the heavier-than-expected cd tower up to our bedroom, like I’ve been talking about doing for a long time. It’s making me realise how much I want my formerly sacred “tea time” ( as in cup of) back. And every time I look around my house, all I want to do is scrub.

Who knows if this is the start of something wonderful, or a blip in usual service.

One child is chunering as he learns the new skill of getting himself back to sleep, while the other is wailing (as only he can) every few minutes, complaining that Caleb woke him up (the opposite is actually true).  There is simply no point in my shutting my eyes.

 

This happens sometimes and I’ve learned to roll with it. Closing my eyes, snuggling under my warm duvet and drifting off to sleep only makes me crazy in this situation. Sometimes, it’s just better to accept that for now I am not going to sleep. Otherwise I get mad. No one wants a mad, effing and jeffing mama in the night.

Its a strange thing, this being the mama. My children are completely different, pretty much opposite beings. And they both came from me. 

Phil’s auntie likes to tell me that lions don’t come from lambs. It’s true. I see edens (overly?) sensitive nature, and I am remindedmod myself as a child. But then I see calebs fierce independence and basic indifference to who is around or not, and I also see reflections of myself.

I wonder how they feel about bunting? …

 

And so it is.

The kids are in bed, I have a Kopparberg in hand (pear, obviously), and Phil is making a steak tea for two. Life is good.

I’ve recently cut my ties with a forum with which I was wasting far too much time, but suddenly realised that my online activities have become very limited. Facebook. Pinterest… and? Whilst less internet time is definitely a positive, it is also a potentially great way to expand your horizons. I love Pinterest, not because it’s  great escapism (and window shopping!) but also because there are so many great ideas. I obsessively pin, but I also regularly give things a go.

So then I started to look around, and renewed my love in blogs. There are so many pretty ordinary people out there who are helping make the world wide web a more beautiful, interesting and inspiring place. Phil may see yet another set of bird silhouettes and thoroughly predictable photographs, but I see familiarity, kindred spirits, and the breaking down of geographic boundaries.

And I decided that now is as good a time as any to join in again. I stopped, for the most part, because I felt like I had so little to say that everyone would want to read. My parenting friends may be interested in the kids activities, my christian friends in my spiritual musings, etc… but I was so scared of not appealing to everyone that I said nothing.

What a load of bollocks! If you don’t like my pictures of faded bunting (which, by the way, I’ve developed an obsession with – bunting, not the faded part), then don’t look. That’s fine. I do. Tomorrow it might be a mucky child’s face or a photo of something entirely delicious (savoury obviously, because I’m simply not a baker). Live with it. Or don’t.

 

 

The Devil Uses an IPad. (and so do I)

Life has changed.
We can be in touch with everyone and anyone at any point. We have instant access to everything, and pretty much everywhere.
And there are some ways in which this is pretty damn cool.

Except, there are just as many (more?) ways in which this is becoming the saddest story I have ever heard.

In Starbucks, people will sit around a table with their friends, looking at their phones… And, dare I say it, posting on Facebook about what they are doing. You know, instead of simply doing it.

When traveling around Europe you could often hear me complaining that although I wanted beautiful pictures of the things I was seeing, I’d rather be able to enjoy seeing them than focusing on capturing it. I hated the times the bus would stop so we could all pile out and take a photo of something and then drive away. To me that was not authentic. Now, what is?

iPhone’s, iPads, iPods – they are our own worst enemy (says she, typing on her iPad). They excuse us from interacting, from existing but make us feel as though we are. It’s no longer rude to “quickly respond to this email” or “just check…” because we can.

Well, I have something to say. It is rude.

But, social graces aside, it is depriving you of life. Stop talking about life and live it. Please, don’t tell me about the view- look at it and tell me later. Breathe. Walk. Play.

Commenting on life is not living it. There is so much more.

So in my house there are going to be a few more rules. No phones at the table. No iPads when the kids are around, unless you are doing a specific activity together. In my house, we are going to choose real life. Then at least we’ll have something to talk about on Facebook.

And yes, this was written on iPad.

Life

Watch out,
Stand up, take stock
Look around- its almost too late,
You have almost opted out of the race by simply
Sitting by.
You sit by and lose out
everytime.
I worry that time is almost out
But too many excuses have been made
Too many conversations of the same thing had
Over and over.
It’s your turn,
Your choice, your life
Your decision.
Please, decide.

Breathing Deeply

You hear a lot about mother’s guilt. Phil teases me that given the opportunity, I will feel guilty about anything..that I like to feel guilty. While the latter is most definitely not true, the former definitely is not far off. And add being a mother to it and the situation becomes far more convoluted.

You see, I always said that even though I did not want children (I’m so glad I changed my mind), if I were to have them, I would stay at home until they were two. And I have. Eden is 3 and although I have worked it has always been from home. Caleb, however, is only 1 and I am desperate to work. This desperation brings with it guilt. As though spending hour after hour, day after day with my children should be enough. And it’s not. Last year was bloody hard, and stripped me of any inner reserve I had. So here I am, a shell of myself, so tired of simply surviving. And somehow work has become a healing place for me. It breathes life back into me, gives my days a sense of purpose. And when I am gone, I look forward to coming home.

But just as I somehow felt looked down upon when I was “just” a mother, I now feel like I am failing by needing to leave them. Caleb is still so small.

So damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

For once I will heed my own advice and recognise that what my children need most is a happy mother. They need me to be the best me I can be, and it will be then that I can offer them the best childhood I can offer them. Staying home all day with a depressed mother isn’t a way to grow into a confident and adventurous young man,

Morning glows

I have been hiding in my silence. Avoiding really talking to anyone. Because talking would require two things… Me to admit that so much of me is not ok and that I am the only thing standing in the way of being ok.

But these things I know to the very depths of my soul, and not saying them outloud does not keep them from being so very true.

I know the solutions so why am I so paralysed from helping myself?

Eating, sleeping and staring mindlessly at my iPad help me to ignore reality. My children force me to acknowledge it and I find myself resenting them for it. You cannot hide and look after two small children. It is perhaps in them that I will find my salvation.

Self destruction comes so easily. I can escape except for at night. It is in the night that I am haunted.

But maybe my admission can be my first step. I dont want this year to be like the last.

Rites of Passage.

I love the Fall.

 

 

(photo by phil)

I love the golden sun that it brings. The falling leaves. The cool, but not cold, weather. The smells. The scarves and sweaters that re-enter our lives. I l0ve it.

This season change has brought with it great life changes. Unexpected renovations. Unexpected redundancy. Living with the inlaws. A new nursery for Eden.

I love it. I mean, it’s hard –  Eden doesn’t do well with change, and although the nursery is going well, the rest is proving too much. I am constantly met with cries of “I want to go to my house” …and we are living out of suitcases/boxes with all 4 of us in one room…. – but it is as though a breath of renewed life has been blown into Phil & I. Our spare time is split between childcare, job hunting, and working on the house. It feels good to have visible results of the change.

I hope for you that this Fall brings what you are looking for, even if you didn’t know what it was.

Another month

It’s a new month. And with us, it is yet another month bringing with it more unexpected chaos.

House renovations (last check our bottom floor was now one massive room and a kitchen!!!!), uncertain employment, job applications, 4 of us living in one bedroom at my inlaws, no sleep from the small one, the big one starting a new nursery this week…and so on.

 

This time outside of our normal habitat has its ups and downs, but is good for us. Good for re-evaluation. It provides food for thought. Like that house we stayed in in Bristol for the weekend and became enchanted by – we can use that when decorating our “new” old house. Will I work full time and Phil take over childcare? Will we both work part time? Will we stay or have to leave to find work?

 

More and more I think to myself “We can do anything – it’s only us in the way.”

This month I want to create more. I’ve seen some great projects to get started on. I’ll show evidence when I get around to it.

This month I want to breathe more. Relaxation doesn’t come naturally to me.

This month I want to love more.

This month I want to adventure more. (And that’s going to happen but my lips are sealed for another week in case Someone is reading this).

 

This month I want more.