How to have a morning routine when you need your sleep

Let me tell you four things about myself:

• I love to be organised. It benefits everything from my mental wellbeing to my friends getting their presents on time
• I am not organised enough. By a long way. Many days I'm starting from two steps behind and those presents? Way overdue.
• I am a morning person. When the evening hits, I've been so busy all day that my body winds down into hibernation. In the mornings, if I'm well rested, I get so much done and feel so good!
• I am rarely well rested. I really need my sleep. Eight hours just about does it for me, but give me nine and I'm cheering. Most mornings I repeat the mantra "do not ask me to make a decision or form a coherent sentence until I've had my coffee."

Have you ever googled 'morning routines' or 'how to be more productive' or anything else in between? Chances are you've hit the 'wake up at 5am' tip. It's everywhere. Have you tried waking up at 5am? It's fine if you're a normal 6-7 hour sleep person. My husband wakes up at 5.15 every day. That's fine for him, because six hours is a good night's sleep in his world. Six hours is a killer for me. I just need my sleep. Give me eight. Gift me nine. Aahhh. And what if you've been awake in the night with a little one? Or what if you get woken up every morning at 5.30 by said small person and there's no chance of a restorative or productive hour to yourself?

Well, let me tell you something else about myself: I've googled 'morning routines' and 'how to be more productive' and everything in between. A lot. And I've come up with a few tried and tested morning routine tips that work for sleepy-heads like me and sleep-deprived people like many of my friends. They're often not the common tips you find when you first look online for a solution. Read on...

1. Work out how much sleep you actually need. If it's a minimum of seven, ideally eight hours (like me), then a 5am start only works if you've gone to bed at 9pm. And if you've got children to get to bed, a floor-load of toys to tidy, and a partner to spend time with, 9pm is just too darn early. Be kind to yourself, consider all your needs, and go for a 6am start instead.
2. Your morning routine starts the night before. That 6am alarm will be hellish if you stayed up watching box sets til nearly midnight. You may feel a little weird doing it, but set a 'go to bed' alarm on your phone every night and even if you don't immediately jump up and head upstairs, it reminds you to at least start turning off the telly.
3. Kick start your morning jobs the night before as well. A quick tidy-up or cleared dish-rack in the evening means you start the new day without being two steps behind already. Pack the kids' school bags. Get everyone's clothes out. Even yours!
4. In fact, if time is an issue, clear out as much of your morning 'me time' duties and do them the night before too. Have a nice warm bath in the evening to cut out your morning shower. Make the breakfasts (bar the milk) and leave them out ready and covered. Do what you can to get that extra bit of sleep before getting up, or that extra bit of 'me time' before waking the kids.
5. Set two alarms for the morning. I have a 6am and 6.30 one. When the 6am alarm goes off, I'm hopefully ready to get up (hello tip 2). But often I just can't make myself get out of bed. So I accidentally-on-purpose doze off and when the 6.30 alarm goes off I'm still in enough of a light sleep to stir and I know it's now or never. I aim for 6am. But I'm kind to myself when it's 6.30. Starting my day on a downer about myself for 'oversleeping' spoils my whole morning mood.
6. If your little ones are early or unpredictable risers, consider your morning priorities. Is it ten minutes of uninterrupted exercise? Then do that first, and consider everything you get done after that a bonus. Most importantly, choose productivity or serenity: don't try for both. My boys wake up at a more human hour now, but when they were younger (and often waking at 5.30am!) I needed some peace and 'me time' in the morning to fill me up ready for the onslaught. I focused on breakfast and a coffee alone with some blog reading. Then I was ready to give myself to them when they woke. And if they woke first? I gifted myself 20mins of them watching cbeebies so I could still get my fix.
7. Another way to deal with early or unpredictable risers is to list the things you'd love to do before they wake, and categorise them into those you can still do when they're awake and those that need doing alone. If you can only shower when you don't have a baby to hold, do that first and give up on the breakfast alone idea for now (or whatever else is on your 'can do together' list).
8. If you want a bit of further reading on morning routines, try Hal Elrod's pages (with a pinch of salt: he's very American), Ruth Soukup's tips, have a read of this (plus there's loads of links in it) or put on your headphones and listen to Pat Flynn (he's so cool).
9. Coffee. Well, tea if you must, but coffee really is the answer to everything.

What tips do you have for starting your day off on a high?

What a day. Indulge me while I give you nine things, from two perspectives...

The bad

1. There were so many battles with those two boys. Silly fights over silly things. Winding each other up on purpose. I ended up doing some shouting. Mostly I held on to my patience but it was at the expense of my joy.
2. I indulged in a cake. It was a huge lemon Viennese fancy. I discovered lemon should not be in a Viennese fancy. Bit of a waste of a cake treat.
3. I also indulged in a pizza. Beyond the point of full. Possibly even beyond the point of stuffed. Because I plan to treat my body like a temple for the next month so perversely needed to eat rubbish today.
4. I meant to finish working on my CVs. I got time for none of that.
5. I meant to have a nice chat with my parents this morning. Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum ruined that. The current state of play is: mummy tells them what to do. They don't do it. I tell them again. Ditto. By time four or five I get really shirty and even then I am often ignored. What's the point of speaking at all?
6. I meant to do some selfish sewing. No time for that either.
7. I woke up at 5am for no apparent reason.
8. I really do usually love spending time with the boys, and I have been so looking forward to half term. It's a bit of a shame when you build it up and then have a day that probably managed only about an hour total of relaxing, probably only an hour total of enjoying their company, and again an hour of lightness and happiness.
9. It was my birthday today. Which is why all the above was... let's be diplomatic and say disappointing.

The good

1. It was my birthday after all. And that's always nice to mark; nice to remember. Plus I'm a year younger than I thought I was going to be. It's the little things.
2. I got Anna Jones' new book. My body really is going to be a temple. Her first book is one of my favourites. And I have about forty so that's saying something.
3. Just look at that tree! It was a glorious autumn day. The light was amazing and the leaves around here are just every colour of autumnal loveliness right now.
4. That tree was in a park, and while the playground was too busy, the crazy golf was open but almost empty and the boys spent a good half hour running around it sans golf equipment, pretending to be spies or Ninjagos, using up lots of their energy (at last), and I got that same half hour sat on a bench reading a couple of blogs on the phone, actually enjoying them, and relaxing.
5. I had a bath. That can never be bad.
6. The middle son, instigator of many of today's troubles, who is going through a stage of being a bit selfish, a bit whiney, a bit 'that's not fair' was actually really quite lovely for about half an hour this morning in bed snuggling with me.
7. The lovely husband let me faff on the computer after the blow-out pizza dinner. He put the kids to bed by himself. He tidied the kitchen.
8. ... And he's taking me down the road for a couple of drinks now, where there will hopefully be a nice fire or two, and some lovely conversation.
9. And I wrote this. I vented and then I counted my blessings. I checked in on the blog. And tomorrow is, as someone rather glamourous once said, another day.

I need your help...

Last week was kind of rubbish. I have been feeling so frozen. So stuck in the headlights of the future. I have so much that needs doing but nothing driving me forward because I don't know which way to go, and thus I'm stuck in procrastination and pottering and I hate it. So I just thought: I'll write it here. You readers tell me what to do. Please.

The dilemma is my career. Or the lack of it, and the need for it. I'm sorry but this may end up being a long post! Stay with me if you can. I'll try to be concise (says one of the least concise people ever) but I need to set the scene (bonus material: you're kind of going to get my adult life story)...

Seventeen years ago I had my first born. I sat my A-levels while half-way through being pregnant with him. I turned down my place at Cambridge and decided to focus on being the best mother I could be, despite being young and single. I spent two years just mothering him and they were two of the best years of my life. I found myself and who I wanted to be. And I really loved being a mum.

Then, belatedly, I went to university to do the Geography degree, two years later than planned. The eldest and I lived with my parents, he went to the nursery where my mum worked and I commuted into town and what was, luckily, one of the best universities in the country. I loved my degree. I have always loved learning (I'm a bit of a swot). I worked really hard and got a First.

I had planned to stay on and do a Masters then a PhD and finally become a lecture. But some work I did in my final year got me a job offer and, with a child to support and no means of getting our own home otherwise, I had to do the right thing and accept it. I figured the Masters bridge was burned.

I worked for five years in town, in a variety of transport/sustainability/streetscene type jobs. I was pretty good at it and I enjoyed it enough (though not all the time), but it was never what I really wanted to do with my life. During this time I met and married my husband, a northerner, and we realised we'd need to move north at some point to be nearer his mother. The move would mean we could just about get by on his public sector income while I looked after our future children.

That's what we did: seven years ago we moved to the Peaks, I gave up working, and we had our second and third child. Being a stay-at-home mum was a very conscious decision, something I did for them as well as me. I have loved it. But the youngest has just gone to school, our finances are pretty dire, and I have to go back to work. I want to work. But I want to still have as much time with the children as possible.

I have worked a bit in the meantime. In the early days up here I did some part-time admin work for a year or so. For about six months between the second and third boys I was a childminder - I love working with children, but being pregnant and looking after three under-two's was tough. And this last year I've sewn curtains, cushions and blinds half time. You know me: you know I love to sew (and discovered sewing before our last boy was born).

So here are my choices (in current order of preference). Or yours, since you're choosing for me...

1. Perhaps that Masters-PhD-lecturer career path wasn't burnt down all those years ago? I would really love to do this, but there are the finances to consider, I'd need to do some admin work (ideally at the university) part-time, and there would be an impact on the children as I'd need to commute into (probably) Manchester to do it. How would I pay for it? How would I earn at the same time? My husband is usually home from work by 4pm (he starts at 7am) so they wouldn't need too much childcare but I'd have essays and reading to do most evenings. But I think this option is what my heart, soul and brain most yearn for.

2. Teaching. This has always been my back-up option. I know I would love to teach and would be really good at it. But I also know it feels a little like settling. And, most importantly of all, it's a highly time-intensive and stressful career. I want time with my children but the typical teacher does a 70 hour week for the first few years. I would hardly see them. Teaching gives you the school holidays but day-to-day it really isn't a parenting-friendly career any more.

3. Stick with the sewing. This was certainly the plan a year ago. I love it. I could work from home and fit my hours in around the children, so it's certainly the best option for them time-wise. But it's never going to bring in much money, certainly not enough for the eldest starting university, the mortgage, blah blah. It's increasingly looking unviable for these reasons. And my academic brain is pretty dormant.

4. Just find a regular admin type job that fits in with school hours, brings in extra money, and maybe the boys have to do a few days in after-school clubs. The first 3 options involve bringing work home with me but this would not, and that's a benefit to them. But I really, really want to be able to do a job I love for once. And this really wouldn't be it.

5. Go back to the transport world. I'd earn much more than option 4, though I'd be working full time and that would impact on the children. I'm experienced though out-of-touch, so I'd probably have to start on a much lower level than when I left seven years ago. And when I left I was so relieved! I really never wanted to go back to it. But maybe needs must?

What do you think? When I say decide for me, obviously I won't just do what you say, but your opinions and votes will, I hope, help me decide. 

I am a planner, and this is the first time in my life that I can remember being so stuck on a major life decision. I always need to know where I am and where I'm going and I just don't know what to do here. What's best for everyone, not just now but five years down the line when the kids are all older. And while I thought I could do the groundwork on several options at once, running them concurrently for much of this year and then deciding, it turns out that the lack of a plan instills a horrid, self-defeating inertia in me. So I think I really need to decide on one, and maybe keep another one or two as back-up options. You should know, also, that the list in 'order of preference' is a new thing: a week ago, I wouldn't have been able to rank them at all I was so stuck.

PS Option 1 and 2, and maybe 5, could seriously impact on my time to blog and read blogs. Does that matter? I love to write and I love this online world that's just for me. But perhaps the writing element of those three career paths would satisfy my writing needs anyway?

Right. Go! Answers on a postcard (or, for convenience, below in the comments section please!)...

6 tips for how to cope when your child starts school

This month, my eldest child started sixth form college and my youngest started primary school. And over my nearly seventeen years of motherhood I've learnt a few good tips on how to cope when a child starts school. What I've learnt has been especially useful for me now that my youngest is at school, since I'm now also dealing with empty nest syndrome. My baby's growing up! 

So, now you've got through the weirdness of the first day and you might still need a few tips to find your rhythm, I thought I'd give you some ideas on how to be a stay-at-home mum (whether you do it part-time or full-time) when your home is empty of children. Here are my six tried-and-tested tips...

1. Look forward to it!...

Okay, so you may love being a full-time mum (I certainly did) but that doesn't mean you can't also love the time when they're not with you. You need this time! There's a lot to be said for nurturing yourself, as well as that amazing sailing feeling you get from when you're on top of everything. Don't focus on the child you're missing. Focus on how good you can feel when they're at nursery, school or college, and how that will help you be a happier person and mother, as well as have more time for them when they're home.

2. Distract yourself from the combination of mother's guilt, worry, and missing them...

So how do you stop focusing on the child your missing? Distract yourself. Fill your day up with plans. Get that calendar or notebook out, and fill each day with things that you couldn't do when they are around (hello art galleries!) and the things you never get round to (let that 'to-do' list regurgitate itself all over your day!) And remember that your child is mostly going to be having a great time and not thinking about you (sorry, but!)

3. Treat yourself...

Looking after your children all the time is hard work. Just think how many mothers say they go to work to get a break! You've earnt a treat. Whether it's a peaceful cuppa and cake in a cafe with a good book, a decent run with a friend, or a trip to that aforementioned art gallery - schedule it in, give yourself a little something just for you every day. It will give you something to look forward to and a way to nurture yourself. But you must do it without feeling guilty. Remember: if you're an empty vessel you won't be able to fully give what your children need when they're around. After that little break in a coffee shop you'll be a much happier, nicer, contended mum. It's a win-win.

4. Do the things you never had time for when your children were at home...

This is where that to-do list comes in. Go room to room and write down everything that needs doing, from tiny jobs to big ones, and promise yourself to do something from that list every week (or even every day). Write a list of birthdays coming up in the next few months and get those gifts and cards blitzed early. Organise your finances. Organise your files. I do not think there's a mother out there who doesn't have a to-do list weighing her down, and this is your opportunity to lighten that load. You cannot underestimate the benefit to your mood, mental health and mothering from ticking those things off and feeling successful and competent again.

5. Focus in on lunchtime...

Now this is a really practical one and it makes a lot of sense. You've probably had time on your own without the children before. Maybe they've done a little time at nursery already. Maybe they have headed out to play some sports with their dad for a couple of hours at the weekend. But you've probably not had lunch on your own, in your own house, since before they were born. I certainly hadn't! So this time could feel the strangest being alone. Make this meal a real highlight of your day! Sit down and take a break, whether you're sat at the table with the radio on or catching up on blogs or the news on your computer. Make yourself something that's both healthy and a treat, that your kids would never eat. Make lunch the highlight of your day on your own, not the loneliest time.

6. Make their return home from school special...

This is a great one to rid yourself of mother's guilt for all those moments when you've nurtured yourself (you shouldn't feel guilty about it but, come on, we all do). Your children will come home a little hungry and cranky. They've not been with you all day. And, ta-da, here is the plate of flapjacks you've made to make them feel special when they're home! Trust me, a gift of a (not-too-unhealthy) cake goes a long way to make you feel like the 'besd mummy in the wurld' (yes I still have that note my Little One wrote me way back on Mother's Day!)

7. (I know, I said six tips, but here's a bonus one for mums who work)...

I know, you work full time and you feel this whole post has been for those stay-at-home mums you beat yourself up about. But I know both sides of this feeling, since I work from home. And I also have lots of friends struggling with the juggle of work and family life. My number one tip: cut yourself some slack. You're doing your best. Sometimes that's not good enough, sometimes it is. The same goes for every single mother the world over, whether she looks after her kids full time or works. The best thing is that if you didn't work now, your children wouldn't be at home anyway since they have to go to school, so you can wipe off a whole heap of guilt straight away. My second tip: get help. Share the jobs around the house. Get a cleaner if you can afford one. Give up on ironing. Delegate the homework to Dad or your grandparents. Whatever it is, don't try and do two full-time jobs at once. And don't do more than you need to. There are only so many hours in the day and having a nice time together with your kids for some of them will make all of you feel happier.

Good luck!

Camping in St Davids, Pembrokeshire

I'm going to overwhelm you with beautiful photographs of our camping trip to St Davids in Pembrokeshire (SW Wales), while telling you the best and worst of our holiday. I hope you've got a cuppa handy and have given the kids a big box of Lego! Yes? Right, then let's get started...

Firstly, it goes without saying, it was just stunningly beautiful. Rugged yet not barren, imbued with all the jewel colours you could imagine. That sapphire sky! Those emerald cliffs! And the sea, oh the turquoise of the sea.

Pembrokeshire is also full of pretty, ice-cream coloured towns and villages. There are the tacky bits, but most of it is the sort of place that makes you wonder about moving there. Look, I even dressed nautically for the occasion (let's pretend it was happy happenstance instead of my usual embarrassing need to theme everything).

We had a beautiful day out in Tenby. The beach, well just look, are words needed? I highly recommend the little walk around the headland that the tourist office there suggests. You get to see the most amazing lifeboat you'll probably ever see.

It's got all the little nooks and crannies you'd hope for, whether those in the town or down on the seashore. I'm not sure how to say this without sounding like a snotty southerner, but Pembrokeshire will appeal to you if you like Cornwall!

Another highlight, during the second half of our week, was the most beautiful coastal walk along the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. It really was my most favourite part of the holiday. The Little One and I caught crickets, we all watched in awe as coasteering teenagers appeared through gaps in the cliffs, we ate ice creams at the beautiful harbour of Porth Clais, and marvelled at every new view as the path twisted and turned.

It was worth the holiday alone. And that's saying something, because on our second night at the campsite half the tents were irreparably damaged by a huge storm, and ours was broken too. We were lucky to find somewhere to fix our broken tent poles. Being huddled in a tent with screaming winds around you, frightened children clinging to you and your husband and mother outside wrestling guy ropes while being battered by the elements does not appear in the dictionary's definition of 'holiday'. When the second storm hit 48 hours later, we weren't going to take any chances so we packed up our entire tent and luggage, drove to the nearest Travelodge for the night, and then came back the next day to set everything back up again. This does not appear in the dictionary under 'relaxing' either.

But just look at those views! It was almost as though the coast was apologising to us. And, battered though we were, we crumbled under the pressure of such beauty and forgave it.

The second half of our holiday also included a trip to the surfer's Whitesands beach for paddling, wave jumping, sandcastle building, and, of course, wind breaking.

Some geometric castles were built! For this one my husband was the put-upon assistant. I helped with the square and circular variants but I think his was best (don't tell him I said that).

Some beaches were sat on and, dare I say it, slept on. Some fields were flown on by kites and chasing boys. The wind did have some uses after all. And the football! Oh a lot of that was played too. I'm sure our neighbours on the campsite remember the odd ball hitting their tents (why do boys always forget to keep it in the middle of the field!?)

Possibly the most beautiful yet missed part of our visit was St Davids Cathedral. We briefly saw it (just look at those cloisters!) when searching for somewhere to eat lunch between rain showers (it has an impressive refectory) but because the weather truncated our holiday sightseeing, we missed out on a proper visit. I'm sure this was fate's way of getting us to go back to St Davids again.

We stopped off, near the end, at Pembroke Castle which has to be one of the best I've ever visited (and I've visited a lot). It was stunning. Truly stunning. Even under grey skies and with the highest sections shut due to the wind speed. Our boys relished the chance to be knights and kept in character all the way around our exploration of battlements and rooms.

They even have a giant map of Wales and giant chess knights to play with! I don't know exactly what they were in those boys' eyes but they played very earnestly with them for a good twenty minutes!

Go. I suppose that's the two letter word that sums this all up. Just look at those skies below! Just look at the sun on the calm sea. Even with all the hell thrown at us in the first four days, we came home slightly in love with the place. Though if we book to go again (and we stayed at St Davids' Caerfai Farm campsite, which was organic and a little basic in places but just what we were looking for and exactly what we'd recommend) we'll change our minds at the last minute if storms are forecast. We're fair weather campers from now on!

Crafting with Kids: home-made thank you cards in 3 quick & easy steps!

So this is the way it goes it my house: child has birthday. Child receives birthday presents. Child needs to send thank you letters. Mother keeps forgetting. It was the Little One's birthday in early June and now the month's been and gone I've really got to get these 'thank you' cards sorted!

It's important to me that those people who were kind and generous enough to give a present get a meaningful thank you in return. That means different things to different people, but to me it means a handmade thank you card.

It is also important to me that I don't give myself yet another huge 'to do' on top of everything else, and that writing 'thank you's' is not something my children dread as a chore. You can see the colourful 'thank you' cards my Tiny One made after his birthday here. But I can't do the same thing with the Little One (their birthdays are two months apart and my aunties would remember!).

Which brings me to...

Step one: Find an appropriate picture your child has made, or get them to make one. I used a Star Wars picture my six year old made for his Star Wars party but it would've been more sensible to find one on a white background. Of course, you can keep a coloured background but I was being thrifty and avoiding caning through all that yellow ink!

Step two: Scan and upload your picture. Now, if you have photoshop like me, you can white out the coloured background and add some text (I used a free Star Wars font that I downloaded). If not, get your fabulously helpful child to make you a bespoke picture and write 'thank you' etc on it. Using photoshop or your programme of choice, multiply that photo into four on an A4 sheet. You could do this using a photo mosaic programme too.

Step three: Print the photos out on thick paper stock, cut up and use! (Here's where it gets a bit tricky as you have to get your six-year-old to neatly write their name over a dozen times!)

Helpful? If you want more specific instructions on how to do this on photoshop (it took me less than half an hour), do let me know!

Happy Father's Day: an ode to the father of my children

This man. This man who spent most of Father's Day in car travelling back from a wedding. This man for whom Father's Day came and went without much fanfare. This man who deserves a fanfare. Let me tell you nine things about this man...

1. He is a father to my sixteen year old in every sense. I forget he's not his biological father. I think they both forget it too. And that's the best I could ever have hoped for.
2. He is our rock. For all of us, we can always rely on him, we can always lean on him, and we always know where we stand. There's a lot to be said for a man like that.
3. He is thoughtful, considered and methodical. We know what he believes to be true and good, and we know he will stand by that. He believes in family, in honesty, in stability, in perseverance. He takes a little getting to know, which is a good thing. When you know his soul, you've earnt that knowledge and you hold it dear.
4. He has been such a natural father to our little two boys. He has felt every joy, noticed every idiosyncrasy, learnt every quirk of their personalities. He knows what they need and he gives it to them. He is steadfast in focusing on their needs when they are distracted by their wants! You need that in a parent.
5. He is generally a serious man, but we all get to enjoy his silliness, his thrill-seeking, his fun and jokes, his adventurous spirit. One of my favourite things is to see him forget his self-consciousness and do a loony little dance with the boys in the kitchen.
6. He puts his needs aside and can just do the right thing because it's right. When he's tired or has had a hard day at work, he still does what the boys need, he still reads the stories with them or takes them out on their bikes. He's the kind of man who gets out of bed on time every morning. I'm the kind of woman who stays in bed for 'one more minute'. I wish I were more like him!
7. Really, he dreams of being a photographer. But he stays doing his job, which he likes enough, which is good enough, which pays just about enough. He stays because he's a responsible kind of guy, and because he knows that in this season of our lives he's our breadwinner and we all rely on him. I really hope that one day I get really successful or that lottery win magically arrives, because I'd love to let him throw caution to the wind and follow his dreams.
8. He's the kind of father these boys need. Reliable. Strong. Great at kicking a ball (or whatever sport they're currently into). Predictable. But sometimes surprising. Interested in them. Attentive. And sucking up the joy they bring into his life.
9. He doesn't read this blog. Well he's maybe read it once or twice, but he's not a fan of social media, and so I've taken to writing away without even mentioning it much. But he supports me and he believes in me. He thinks I can write. Part of being a good father is being a good husband, and for that I'm a very lucky lady.

(PS I can't believe I just referred to myself as 'lady'. Wasn't I just sixteen a moment ago?!)

(PPS For a similarly effusive and grateful post about my own dad, see here.)

The 2015 Summer List

I feel like I can finally say, without jinxing it (though you know it really will be jinxed now I've said that)... summer's here! But what to do this summer? My list of activities for the boys' six-seven weeks at home is coming up in July, but here's my list of things that I want to accomplish, for me and the family. You know me, it's going to have nine things in it...

1. Get outdoors every day. Once the school holidays kick in it can be tempting to stay in with the Lego on a miserable day, but my boys are like sheepdogs - they need to get out. They need to work off some energy, they need a change of scene, they need inspiration and adventure. And I also need the inhalation of simplicity, appreciation and good old fresh air.
2. Visit more National Trust properties. Once a week - yes really - once the holidays kick in, and occasionally on weekends before then. We do go often but we went to Tatton Park last weekend (post to follow) and it cured all ailments, at least for a while.
3. Sew more for me. With the job I have (curtain & blind making), if I'm not sewing for someone else I'm not sewing at all. I've got to shift some of my plans from the 'to do' to the 'done' list.
4. Watch less telly. It's beautiful outside, there are books inside, conversation to be had... to be honest, I would've gladly done this a long time ago but my husband needs television to manually switch him from 'work' to 'relaxed' mode. I need to tell him that I don't.
5. Bring more of the outdoors indoors. Fill every vase at least once. It finishes a room, and it elevates my mood. It's better for the environment and my bank balance if I don't go and buy the ubiquitous cellophane-wrapped store flowers.
6. Keep spending less. Every little helps (no, I'm not referring to the supermarket). Not that we spend much anyway but we're trying hard to be even thriftier at the moment. I'll be making more ice creams at home, looking for free outdoor adventures, cutting off my jeans rather than buying shorts.
7. Bake more. We've been on a healthy eating kick recently and, with all the Easter chocolate still around, there's been no reason to bake. But there are healthy cakes out there these days (it's no longer an oxymoron) and the baking element of this blog's subtitle has been sorely lacking.
8. Make a little cot quilt for my first ever niece or nephew. She or he will be a summer baby and will have to get used to an auntie showering it in sewn gifts!
9. Fix myself. The rubbish anxiety condition that the PTSD left me with four years ago has been niggling a bit recently. I can usually go four-six months absolutely fine before a few days or weeks of a dip. But recently, though much less severe, it's been kicking in every few weeks and to be honest I'm fed up of it. It isn't me and it stops me from living the life I want and need to live.

Days out with the kids: West Green House Gardens in Hampshire

Let me pique your interest with these beauties...

Come for a walk with me. We're going to West Green House Gardens in Hampshire, a third of the way down the M3...

We'll potter along formal garden paths, boxed by hedges and planted with such an array of beauty that your heart will sing, while your children run around excitedly playing hide & seek...

We'll explore woodland paths too, tickled by ferns and sheltered by boughs laden with all the shades of emerald...

We'll find nooks and outdoor rooms, and every now and then a peek at the house we wished we lived in, the chicken coop that is fancier than any we've ever seen, the statues that surprise us...

And if we're there in spring time, the blossom, oh the blossom. And for tulip lovers (like us), every shade, every form, every delight we could imagine. The children will hop over the channels of water while we soak it all in...

We'll take note of the colours we see, the flowers we love, and vow to take our mothers one day, who would love it so much...

We will show the children the flowers they can smell, the insects buzzing around in spoilt gluttony, let them run down the paths and play hide & seek some more...

And every corner we turn will bring us a fresh view of elegance, of artistry, of wonder. We'll imagine sitting by that fountain in the thirties, cocktail in hand, band playing in the distance. Or pushing open those formerly unlocked gates and strolling, Victorian dress swishing around our ankles, with someone we hope likes us back...

Our families will rest by the lake, searching the depths for signs of fish, watching the ripples as they dance away, looking at their reflections...

If we're there in early spring, the magnolias will be out in all their gravity-defying beauty. We will muse on their bold promise of warmth and daylight to come...

We'll grab an ice cream from the cafe, or sit at one of the pretty little tables, adorned with little pots of flowers, and drink coffee from a filter or tea from a teapot - served as it should be, - drunk with birdsong in the air...

If we're there with our husband, we'll hold hands and talk about life and our plans, delight in our children as they play, and think how lucky we are, and how many blessings we can count...

If we're there with our friends, we'll note the hellebores and bluebells hidden in the flower beds, plan our own gardens, tell each other of how our lives are changing and blossoming too...

Perhaps we'll be lucky enough to be local enough to visit again. Perhaps we'll plan trips to the opera there, staged in the summer, or the garden parties with strings. Perhaps though, like my family and I, we'll know that the chances of us ever passing by again are so very small, and instead we'll take photographs, breathe it all in, and then write a little about it to tell you that if you can't come with us, go with your own loved ones instead. It is heavenly.