One of the things that makes me proudest of Elfie is her voracious love of books and creativity when it comes to storytelling. I grew up devouring words and I think a love of the written word is something to cherish and encourage.
I’ve had to come to terms with the fact the things I want out of life won’t come immediately, but I am most definitely making baby steps on my journey while keeping my two little people alive and happy. And by god, if that’s not an achievement I don’t know what is.
I’m not traditionally a Christmas card kind of person. I’m all for sending the best of the seasons greetings but to be honest come 22nd December I’m kind of sick of glittery robins and nativity scenes. Here’s a great alternative.
Hands up who’s been feeling the cosmic funk recently? I most certainly am: from the sleepless nights to the anxiety over sod all (and, oh yes, the small matter of the summer holiday juggle), I have not had the easiest fortnight. And, though I know some might put this train of thought down to woo woo, I like to blame the Summer retrograde.
As a bonafide grown-up (or so I’m told), there are lots of unexpected adult things I have to deal with. When I was a kid I dreamt of my mature years being lots of things: exotic, glamorous, fast-paced (and never so blimmin’ tired), but being a grown-up is quite different to how I anticipated.
When some friends of mine, women I hold in really high esteem personally and professionally, would speak to me about the life-changing effects their Life Coaches had caused, I would roll my eyes at the revered tones they’d use.