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Hey all, how are we?

I don’t think you can be in England and Wales today without thinking about the referendum. This won’t be a political post I promise (I’m not one to preach my views) however the whole EU referendum has been leaving me feeling somewhat nervous and I haven’t really been able to put my finger on why.

It was only this evening when I was watching the boys bouncing on the trampoline at my mums that I realised its the sense of responsibility. Not only am I voting for me but also for my boys and their future. The world, our country will be where they will grow, live and have their own families and I want it to be the best place it can be for them.

That left me feeling even more nervous, would they question my decisions in the future if I vote in a way that ends up negatively affecting our country? Will I make their financial position harder? Nail biting stuff!

Then I thought, hold on, let’s think about the responsibility I have and have had since the day the two little bundles were handed to me! Karl and I have been responsible for feeding them, clothing them, teaching them, giving them love, kindness and teaching them the lessons our parents taught us. 

When Leo was only two weeks old he was incredibly poorly, he was covered in a dark red rash, he screamed constantly, wasn’t feeding well and kept pooing to the point we were going through more than a packet of nappies a day. His bottom was so sore it was bleeding and I was absolutely beside myself.

We took him over the course of the week to the doctor a number of times only to be told that we were not changing him often enough and that we were responsible for the ‘nappy rash’ he had. On the Saturday morning in tears because he couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep we took him to the hospital. 

He was quickly admitted and diagnosed with a cows milk protein allergy. From the minute I had been feeding him I had been poisoning him. You can imagine the relief at knowing what I had known anyway that there was an issue but also the extreme guilt of knowing that something I had been doing had caused the issue. 

I took responsibility here and did what I thought was best for my son. Karl and I knew that it wasn’t right he just had nappy rash so we persevered and did what we could to make things okay for our little one. 

When Nate our eldest son started reception at a school I was more than happy for him to go to and after not long I realised that not only was it not the right school but actually that Nate wasn’t happy we took responsibility and moved back to our home town of Whitstable where the schools seemed to fit Nate better and he would be happier. This decision was made and executed within two weeks and involved moving into a rental property, renting out our own and saving to buy another property in Whitstable. 

It was hard and costly but it was what was best for our children who are now thriving at an amazing school with fantastic friends and lovely environments.

So after thinking about all this I realised that if we can be responsible for all these massive decisions affecting the future of the two little people we made then putting in a cross in what I feel is the right box actually will be a breeze and I’m quite sure that the boys in the future will know that our decisions were made with their best interests at heart because we take our responsibilities very seriously! 

Right, I’m off to decide what I’m ordering from the Emma Bridgewater sale in the morning (no end to my responsibilities!) 

Lots of love, Lucy xx

Hey all, happy Sunday and happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there.

As some of you know yesterday I took part in the Saxon Shore Relay, a 47 mile route from Folkestone to Whitstable run in a relay with a team of five. It works out you run about a half marathon each.

I’m not in the best shape, I’m larger than last year, having a few health issues (another post for another time) and have a fair number of niggles including a painful knee. The terrain is tough, not a lot in the way of flat until you get to the very end and lots of uneven, muddy, stinging nettle laden hills. When I say hills I mean the kind we runners avoid unless we are doing speed work and even then we aren’t massively keen! 

All this whilst dressed up, this year as Mr Strong from the Mr Men, I had in my lovely team Mr Tickle, Mr Bump, Little Miss Chatterbox and Little Miss Sunshine.

Being completely honest I had spent most of the last week wondering whether I should take part, I know I’m not at my best and am no where near as fast as I was last year but I didn’t want to let anyone down and I remembered how amazing it felt crossing the finish line last year. I decided if I walked some legs it would be fine and at least I would be out there doing it.

It was one of the most gruelling things I have ever done mentally, the route isn’t marked or marshalled and you carry direction cards to assist you with navigation (I felt like I was back doing the Duke of Edinburgh award again). I had the same legs as last year so hoped some familiarity would come back but I still got very confused! 

I had to keep reminding myself that I was pet of a team and I couldn’t just stop, I could do this, am I a woman or a mouse, I did it last year, my boys would be at the finish line, all the while dropping with sweat with aching hamstrings and needing the toilet (I had to stop countless times). At many points we were so behind that I was running on my own so got the strangest looks from groups of foreign tourists as I walked past dressed up like some sort of lunatic! 

The girls were all not feeling as physically fit as last year and we were all a bit down at being so behind, last year I recall running some of my legs with a man dressed as a Dalmatian and another as a painter and decorator but we all said as long as we’ve done it that’s all that matters.

We came to the end, the last leg being mine, it was only 1.6 miles but I honestly felt like it was a marathon ahead of me, my sister in law Anna ran the last leg with me for some support and the rest of the team met us just before the finish line so we could all come in together. 

As we neared the finish line I could see my Karl, my boys and smiling faces, somehow holding the baton I managed a sprint and crossed the finish line with skin so red I resembled a tomato and literally struggling to breathe! 

After all that, the struggle, the laughs, the pain, the mud, the stinging nettles we expected the wooden spoon so you could have knocked me down with a feather when we were awarded the prize for being the fastest female team!

Just shows, in reality what we believe about ourselves often isn’t true and actually even in a bit of a state you can surprise yourself!

Lots of love xx 

Happy Friday to you all! 

I made that typical mum mistake last night of overestimating my abilities. I decided that because I am off work today and merely had to get up this morning and to get myself and the boys ready and them to school I didn’t need to go to bed at a decent hour I could stay up last night and catch up on Versailles, if you haven’t seen, it’s one of those period dramas on BBC 2 a bit like the Tudors with wonderful costumes and lots of debauchary. 

I did of course fall asleep on the sofa way before the end of one of the episodes and woke up in total darkness, the television long having switched itself off, curtains still open with a stiff neck and a large cat sat on my chest. 

I did the zombie like walk into bed after shutting the curtains and tripping over the boys swimming bag in the hallway (did I put the damp swimming things in the airing cupboard, of course not!) and forgot to set an alarm.

Fast forward to 0700 hours one hour after my usual getting up time on a school day when I’m not working. I not only realise I hadn’t set an alarm but also that the boys are both still asleep. I have messages on my phone from last night that I haven’t read and a message from my husband who is on nights to say he is running late and won’t be home anytime soon. 

I panicked, surely the best thing to do is to jump up, have a quick shower, sort the boys milk and breakfast and then run their sinks for a wash? No instead I faff about looking on Instagram, reply to my messages, send some other messages and then look at the clock, 0725, oh dear. 

Cue sleepy boys wandering in shouting ‘where’s the milk’ ‘where’s the breakfast’ like a pair of starving baby birds who have to rely on their parents to provide all substinence for them (they are 4 and 6, they know how to pour milk and cereal) anyway…. I get up, sort the milk and breakfast, shove down some shreddies and leave them in front of Horrible Histories Gory Games on the Iplayer which they love because it involves a challenge of children having to clear Henry the VIII’s chamber pot (got to love boys) and I jump in the shower. 

While I am in the shower for a grand total of seven minutes I have to mediate two arguments, one about a spoon and the other about what the middle name of the rat in Horrible Histories is (any ideas?) I get out of the shower and run the first sink for a boy to get washed and place their uniforms and clean underwear on the sofa so they can dress themselves while I get myself ready (today I want to at least wear mascara to make me look less zombie from the walking dead and more mum who can hold her stuff together). 

Of course this doesn’t happen, I shout myself hoarse saying things like ‘Leo if you put your fingers in your brothers ear again there will be trouble’ and ‘Nate I don’t mind you playing the keyboard but please turn it down’. 

School starts at 0845 and we have to leave with enough time to get through the traffic, find somewhere to park (if you live in Whitstable you know what I mean) and then walk to the school. 

Leo refused to wash, to get dressed, to put his socks on, to brush his teeth, to put his shoes on and to wear his school jumper. At 0820 he wasn’t even dressed. Nate however was ready, teeth brushed, shoes on and giving me looks of sympathy at how stressed I was getting. That’s when you know things are bad when you receive empathy from a 6 year old. 

By the time we had parked Leo was refusing to get out of the car so I ended up doing what can only be described as a comedy sketch type action of running between the two sides of the car trying to get him out of the door as he laughed and moved to the other side. Eventually he got out but then refused to walk so poor Nate ended up carrying all the bags and jumpers as I half carried, half dragged his brother up the high street and into school.

I then informed Leo that I needed to explain to his teacher about his behaviour, needless to say Leo did not want this so tried to stop me from getting anywhere near the teacher by rugby tackling my legs. With tears welling in my eyes I explained to his lovely and extremely understanding teacher about the morning we had been having and looked down at Leo who had chocolate cereal round his mouth and hair that resembled something like stig of the dump.

As I left the school with no boys, literally dripping in sweat after the physical exertion of towing a four year old boy with the figure of a little rugby player I took an incredibly deep breath and thought, if only I had gone to bed at a decent time last night! 

Oh well only four hours and counting until pick up and we can do it all again in reverse! How I love a rest day! Xx

Hey all,

I’ve had a bit of a week, you may have guessed from my last post but as I come to the end of my working week and reflect on bits and pieces that have gone on it made me think about how amazing us women are.

Don’t get me wrong men are fantastic too but so many of my female friends have been through so much this year I feel like it needs some recognition.

Yesterday a very dear friend confided in me that she was at the end of her tether, she is one of the most amazing women I know, a real inspiration to all of her friends as a friend, mother and all round wonderful person but currently she is doing too much and is making herself tired and poorly because she is not putting herself first. 

We had a chat, she moaned, I listened and we laughed. She felt better having had a venting space and I felt better knowing that I had helped. Today I put a card on her desk which I felt summed up her week.

Women are so often guilty of putting themselves under so much pressure that they end up feeling like they are letting others around them down and that really isn’t the case.
Two very close friends have had hysterectomies in the last year and have been terribly poorly leading up to the major operations and have still worked, ran a home, been amazing mothers and kept smiling.

Another best friend is bringing up four children on her own, the children are all clever and well behaved, she always looks immaculate and her home is not only beautiful but clean and tidy. I can’t manage that with only two children in tow! 

My mum amazes me daily, I honestly don’t know how she managed when I was growing up with a husband who worked away, my older sister having severe learning disabilities and a pretentious me in tow and yet I recall her being patient, fun and still level headed at the end of a long day.

My sister is amazing too, her name is Emma, she is five years older than me. She has grown up with severe learning and physical disabilities, she has watched her younger sister meet boys, go out to nightclubs, get married and have children . All things she would desperately want for her own future but knows she will likely never have (not the nightclub bit, she goes out more than me nowadays!) she is an amazing Auntie, she is fun loving, caring and the boys adore her. I hope that she realises. 

Someone called me handsome this week And I got incredibly offended, what woman wants to be called handsome?! Beautiful, pretty, attractive maybe but handsome?! I think I may have shown my distaste a bit too much which prompted the need to inform me of what a handsome woman is, the definition is:

A woman with the kind of refined beauty and attractiveness that requires poise, dignity, and strength of mind and character, things that often come with age; not merely sex-appeal. Usually applied to a woman who is also very well-groomed.

This phrase is very dated and rarely used in today’s English. Those who don’t understand the term could almost be insulted by the word “handsome” being applied to a woman, mistakenly thinking you’re saying she is masculine.

“What a handsome woman she has become; she carries herself so well”.

This you can imagine made me smile massively and I saw the compliment as it was intended, that in turn made me think…. How many handsome women do you know? I’m very lucky to know lots! 

Hi all, I find myself today in a very dark place. I don’t want to bore you with all the details but suffice to say that I am feeling very down.

As many of you who suffer or have suffered with depression and anxiety before will know sometimes we don’t deal with things in the best way and that is usually for ourselves. People in my life often don’t understand why I give myself such a hard time about things and in lots of ways am my own worst enemy. I never understood it for a long time, I would go over negative words people had said and almost use them as weapons against myself. I would over think the tiniest point until it became like a giant mountain blotting out the sun and I couldn’t get over it. I would make people around me miserable because I was so down.

All of my learning over the past few years has massively helped me in this area, 90% of the time I can see things for what they are, from the right perspective and deal with them accordingly. Often by rising above whatever it is or simply by realising it isn’t something that I need to let affect me terribly but sometimes this seems almost impossible. Particularly when it’s something that has been ongoing for sometime or that has the potential to cause you significant hurt.

My question is and I’m not sure that anyone at all will know the answer is when is enough enough? When do we realise that actually moving on, giving up, or stopping something completely is the best thing to do as opposed to continually trying, faking a smile and making the effort sometimes for the benefit of others. When does it no longer become healthy to struggle on, when is the right time to think it’s time to stand up for what I want and not let it get to me anymore? 

There will always be people in our lives who will be there no matter what, through thick and thin and for any reason. There will always be some who expect you to be there for them but aren’t so good the other way around. Sadly we often realise which kind of friend that person is when it’s a time when we really need them. 

I think the answer is that sometimes as adults we have to be grown up enough and tough enough I guess to say, enough is enough, I’m not a bad person and I deserve to be treated with respect and care. Now let’s see if I have the guts to go through with it! 

Xx

Happy Sunday to you all, I write this at 1400 hours, so far today we have been to church, walked around the Whitstable Museum (loved it, you must go), had lunch, put away the worlds biggest pile of clean washing, separated what can only be described as two small wrestlers hell bent on destroying eachother (over an empty sweet tube no less) and on the final separation managed to bang my head on the drawer knob of the tv unit in the living room. 

Believe it or not this injury made me look at the pretty knob and decide to talk to you today about my love of knobs (furniture ones of course!).

I started upcycling furniture in 2013, I remember this because that is when Karl’s grandfather passed away. It was incredibly sad and very quick and I had always been very fond of him. His Nan passed away in 2009 when I was pregnant with Nate so never met either of the boys but George was always lovely with them. Anyway, he left a house full of all the things that he and Karl’s nan Kath had shared throughout their lives. Karl’s dad invited him and his sisters to have a look and see if there were any pieces of furniture that they would like as a momento of their grandparents. Each agreed how lovely an idea it was and Karl asked if we could have a lovely old chest of drawers and Karl’s Nan’s dressing table (which still had empty bottles of her favourite Chanel in the drawers). It was that chest of drawers we first painted in Annie Sloan’s chalk paint in Paris Grey (a lifelong love).

A trip to Home Bargains gave me some inspiration to change the old metal handles for some more exciting knobs. Home Bargains is a fab place for cheap branded toiletries but the home range is also to die for. I chose ones that reminded me of the crystal maze. I love to this day how they glitter in different light and paint small rainbows across the wood when it’s raining and the sun is shining through the window. 

That’s where it started, I don’t think there is a piece of furniture in our house now that doesn’t have new knobs. One of my very favourite places to buy them is Queen Bee Home in Canterbury where they have some designs to die for. 

It’s amazing how you can change the personality of a piece completely by something so simple.

Which is your favourite? 

Lucy xx

Hey all and a very happy weekend to you.

As you know I have two boys, Nate and Leo, 6 and 4. There is only 17 months between them thanks to a happy accident so you would think that they would both be very similar however you would be wrong.

Some days I really struggle just being a mum, I often feel like I’m no good at it and that it comes naturally to so many other amazing mums and yet I’m like an alien trying to understand how these little people work. Some days I’m quite sure this is because they are so different.

Nate is me, he looks like I did when I was little and he has my ways, massively creative, sensitive and kind. He also has some of my negative sides, moaney, short tempered and away with the fairies a lot of the time! Nate loves to sing, he lives spending time with nature and he seems to want to please and this shows by his glowing school reports and praise from teachers.

Leo however is his fathers son, Karl and I went to primary school together so I can say with authority that Karl was full of confidence, bulshey and very practically clever. Leo is like a whirlwind, he has the memory of an elephant, the problem solving skills of a much older mind than he has and can talk his way out of anything. Don’t get me wrong he is an absolute love and totally gorgeous to boot but he is one of those children that just has something about him. Almost a disregard for how others think of him, he is totally okay with who he is. Just like I remember his father being.

Together then they can be a very interesting mix, Nate with the flair and explosive moods of Van Gogh (before he cut off his ear) and Leo with the ability to wind his brother up with one word which then causes mayhem and pandemonium. Often Nate the older boy ends up being harassed by his brother because he patiently wants to get things done and Leo wants to move on to the next. I imagine Leo one day being a Steve Jobs type character, terribly brilliant and passionate and massively clever.

I love both of my boys dearly and I absolutely cannot wait to see how they grow and who they grow into. I never expected they would both be so different and therefore present such challenges to parent. 

I wonder how many other mums are feeling the same way as I am about their incredibly different children.

Variety is the spice of life.

Big love xx

Hello lovelies and a happy Friday to you all!

I have very much been thinking about positivity this morning. There is that saying about how everyone is dealing with some sort of struggle that you know nothing about. How true is that? We live in a world where we have so much more awareness about health issues both mental and physical and yet there are so many of these things we feel we can’t talk about.

There are many interesting discussions currently about how social media such as Facebook and Instagram only show us the good parts of people’s lives and that actually everything isn’t so rosy in the harsh and real light of day. Well of course that’s going to be true for everyone isn’t it? I’m not aware of anyone walking this earths surface who is perfect and we all know that is okay!

I am someone who as you know suffers with anxiety and depression, I am still suffering with the effects of my eating disorder even though I’m in recovery. I could include much more of these aspects of my life in my social media accounts however I see them as a space for positivity. Don’t get me wrong, I moan a lot and will often put how I am feeling in my posts however I like to post things that are colourful, bright and full of the things I love so I can come back to all the good things and beautiful sights around me without always focusing on my insecurities and issues.

My life is not full of flowers, I don’t spend my time endlessly arranging them or growing them or even having the time to buy fresh ones each week but I do enjoy when I can and I love and appreciate how beautiful nature is through them. That’s why so much of my account involves them.

It makes you wonder how people would react if you did start posting pictures of crying children after a day at school followed by swimming lessons and so tired they can hardly stand or you miserable because you have put on two pounds and your jeans have gone tight! I’m quite sure judgement would be passed on reverse about how not everyone needs to know all your business and how airing your dirty laundry shouldn’t be done in public! We can’t win can we!

I like to think that as a modern mum in a fast paced world I can understand that most people around me are having some sort of struggle and often will take the opportunity to show the good side of their life and loves on their social media accounts and what can be wrong with filling little boxes with happiness and colour?

I hope that whatever you are going through today will be a good day and please accept a virtual hug from me.

To finish another quote (you know me!)

“I’m afraid so. You’re mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland 

Hey lovely people, how are we all? I’m on my first day off this week and loving the feeling of knowing I have five days at home! 

I got to thinking yesterday about stars. I have over the last few years developed what can only be described as an obsession with stars. I remember my mum telling me once that you tend to love the things you need to be surrounded with (I think we were talking about favourite colours). So I must need stars in my life. 

My brother in law made a joke about his and my sister in laws imminent house purchase yesterday and chose to veto a house warming gift of a star from me because of how many I have in my home. I had a look around when I got back from work and noticed that yes I do seem to have plenty of stars in the house however they are all different, I am almost like a collector of stars!

You can find stars in many different places (yes I know the sky is one!) I tend to find them in trinket shops, vintage stores, shabby chic furniture stores and various other places. If I see one I can’t resist buying it so as a result I have many in different styles and materials. I literally surround myself with them. 

Do you have a theme that runs throughout your home? A symbol, something that makes you smile, makes you think of something or be reminded of something? I would love to hear about it.

All of my stars have come from local shops to me in Whitstable and Canterbury and each and everyone makes me smile. 

I hope you like them! 

‘Don’t lose hope, when it gets dark the stars will come out’

Much love xx