A little while ago I had a very important breakfast shindig to go to. To make it there in time I’d have to leave my house at 6.15am, yawning and grumbling, ready to make the 6.40am train to London.
This breakfast was with actual people working in the actual fashion industry: and not only that but we were to be joined by actual icons.
I know it’s not just me who finds the endless winter season difficult. Between the stress of Christmas, the rain of January and the endless short days… urgh. I crave spring and summer like you wouldn’t imagine.
Back in December I was getting close to breaking point. Between all the children’s commitments and my own personal carousel of busyness the whole month had me like the roadrunner.
The master bedroom.
It’s often a space that gets woefully overlooked. When the house gets decorated the master bed gets left til last, used as a dumping ground, a place where ironing, and odd socks go to die. Sound familiar?
I’m trying to bring the master bedroom back.
In life isn’t it nice to be nice? At home, at work, with your family. I’m a big believer in getting back what you give out and try to use this a basis for the way I treat other people. My thought is, that if I treat others the way I wish to be treated then I shall set myself up for the happiest life possible.
When the team from IKEA’s Live Lagom project came to see my house, I knew they’d want to poke around a bit. That was fine with me; as an obsessive cleaner and tidier (it’s a control thing) my house is, 90% of the time, ready to receive the queen. Well, you never know, do you?
But there is one dark space I was worried they’d want to delve in to.
I used to do an excellent line in self-pity.
After the ex and I split up I spent a long time feeling sorry for myself. I was well-used to the ugly cry when something didn’t go my way, the snotty weep on the bathroom floor waling “it’s not fair!”. Only natural, I think, when your life suddenly gets turned upside down: I didn’t quite know how else to react sometimes.
When you’re a mum, any kind of mum – single, working, attached, stay at home – alone, or ‘me time’ become incredibly precious. In your new job as caretaker of a little mewling, pooping, vomiting bundle of joy you suddenly become indispensable, the most important person in the world to your offspring.