Parenthood

I got on the plane!

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Friday 31 October 2025

In recent years, I’ve become a regular at the local airport; dropping off, picking up, loitering at the arrivals gate, paying astronomical parking fees (even once being fined for forgetting to pay them!). I swear that some of the staff now greet me by name! But the one thing I’ve not done… since 2019… is fly anywhere. No, I have been strictly a chauffeur…until this weekend!

Yes, readers, I actually get on the plane!

With my two salaried daughters, who now pay for themselves, I jet off to Brussels for a long weekend. I am beyond excited. I refuse to have ‘carry on luggage only’ and fork out for a 20kg case. Overpack to ridiculous proportions, fill my purse with Euros, doubtless drive the girls insane …. and what fun I have!

Brussels could just possibly be the perfect weekend destination. Not too big, effortlessly elegant and a delight to while away the hours in.

We shop, we stop regularly to sample the famous beer, we eat … lots of frites, plenty of waffles and, of course the reknowned ‘Moules’

and we just enjoy wandering around the pretty streets and squares.

Some parts of the city so French, other, such as the Grand Place with its heavy Gothic architecture very … I was going to say Germanic, but Flemish is probably more accurate. We certainly take a lot of pics!

All too soon I am being dragged reluctantly back to the ‘Flixbus’ stop to start the return leg to Blighty. I would love to have stretched this out for another 24 hours. Back on home soil, I do manage to briefly extend our break when I espy and report an ‘unattended bag’ on the shuttle back to the car park and we, along with all the other passengers, are evacuated …. for 15 minutes until the next shuttle arrives!

But it’s only a short delay until I am back home… and already dreaming of my next trip. The financial barrier of paying for everyone and everything seems to be gone (for now), and my travel bug is definitely back!

Even better than Stevie Wonder?

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Tuesday 8 July 2025

Did I even mention that Stevie is at the very top of my ‘top three artists I’d love to see live’ list?

I know, probably only about fifty times! Anyway, when a friend hears that my idol is coming a Manchester venue, they express-message the news in bold BLOCK CAPITALS

“STEVIE WONDER 5th August!!! How many tickets?”

And I can’t believe it, because in my heart I think I had never expected to actually make this dream come true.

So why do I  pause? It is that  date…that date rings a bell. I glance at the calendar. And I instantly know that I’ll be giving Stevie, and ‘Superstition’ and those sweet harmonica tunes a serve. Because we have an even better event to attend. Between the 4th and 7th of July, we have not one, but two graduations!

So pushing thoughts of funky soul music aside, we drive North for said July weekend, and what a time we have!

It is four days of unbridled joy. My baby girls, all grown up and graduated! Looking so happy and making me feel so unbelievably proud. The ceremonies and speeches are wonderful, the family meals fun and the fizzy wine freely flowing – looking at some of the pics, a little too freely!

Of course I shed the occasional tear. Hearing the newly qualified doctors all reciting ‘The Oath’ is quite a moment. And in Edinburgh, from high up in the iconic McEwan Hall, seeing Prom Dress daughter, the quiet little soul who didn’t speak for her first 6 months at school, turning to smile confidently to the audience as she receives her scroll, gives me goosebumps.

And of course there are some moments. Small boy and I stay in some very basic University accommodation in Edinburgh and both have to get suited and booted for the fanciful events in small public toilets! At some point, the memory of how is now a little hazy, we also acquire a tartan flat cap!

But perhaps the most  unbelievable moment comes as Ex-Hub and I are watching a procession of new graduates leave the hall in the Scottishcapital.

Ex-Hub takes me aside to say,

I feel so proud but you; you must feel incredible. For all you’ve done I wanted to say. ‘Thank you’

I am dumbfounded. If I’d never believed I would ever see Stevie Wonder in person, then this pales against this. These are simply words I never even dared to dream of hearing! Nothing short of miraculous.

But let me not digress; this weekend and this post belong to my beautiful daughters and to both of themI say,

I got faith in you girl

Stevie Wonder single 2016 from the Soundtrack to Sing

You go out, shape this world for the better and live your best lives now.

As for Stevie, now that I have been convinced that miracles can happen,  … maybe next time?

Small boy’s freshly baked bread …

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Tuesday 29 July 2025

“Mum, what’s for lunch?”

This is my nineteen year old son! I am in the middle of a work meeting and have been up since seven, he is still in his dressing gown and has not looked up from the X-Box screen for the last two hours! It is safe to say that I am not amused.

Making sure I am on meeting-mute, I call back ‘sort yourself out; I am busy‘ and then I return to the day job.

A couple of hours later, I head downstairs for a coffee break and… what a sight greets me! Smallboy still in dressing gown but vigorously kneading bread dough in the kitchen!

“What on earth are you doing?” I half-shriek

Smallboy give me a floury smile, and looking pretty pleased with himself explains

“Well you told me to sort my lunch out, there’s not a lot of food in the fridge, so I decided to make a loaf of bread”

Well there your have it! I can only laugh out loud. It is so typical of my third-born. My theory is that being born last into a house of three under-fives, there was so little attention left that he long ago gave up waiting to parental approval or permission before launching into his latest exploit.

As a tiny toddler, he learned to assemble lego models independently … because everyone else was ‘too busy‘. I often lost him in the large Supermarket near our SouthWest house .. and invariably found him sitting happily in the coin operated trains and planes outside the cafe. Then, of course, there was the building of the basket-ball hoop and … on and on it goes.

In Harper’s Bazaar around the time of the birth of Kate and William’s third child , an article claimed that

You get wiser parents with each kid ….So third-borns grow up with more relaxed boundaries. These are the children most likely to be creative and risk takers.

Well, ‘wiser parents’ or just more pre-occupied ones I’m not so sure? The traits, for the child however, they  definitely fit my son!

It is actually nearly 6pm by the time he has finished his masterpiece. As I have no advice to give, because I have never made bread, I set about putting the rest of our evening meal together. We triumphantly sit down to a feast of freshly baked bread, with cheeses, salad and red wine!

Tomorrow he’s baking again, as he thought that loaf number 1 was ‘a touch too dense‘. Many years of parenting him have taught me that it will just be easier to leave him to it…

A world without Windsor…

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20 February 2025

After 11 years of loyal service and 148 000 miles of memories, I say a fond farewell to Windsor, my very trusty Toyota, and it’s emotional …

Of course I know a car isn’t actually a person but … I am such an old softie that mine always do feel real. And I’m not alone. At the garage where I collect my new vehicle, the very nice salesman asks if I am okay, as we reach the moment where I have to sign Windsor away,

“I sometimes get tears you know …”

he tells me

“… people get attached to their cars, I guess seem like part of the family”

Indeed they do! An article by Kayla Morgan, reports the 2024 survey by car centre Meineke, which revealed that

“ … 51% of car owners think of their car as part of the family .. and …about 53% would keep their current car forever if given the option.” 

Rather more alarmingly, Kayla’s article also references the 2009 documentary My Car is my Lover. But let’s not dwell on that one!

Back at the garage , I hear myself telling the very nice salesman about the long forgotten treasures we found when we cleared Winsor out: the decorated beach stones the kids made on holiday in Wales and the Clarice Bean audio books we listened to so many times that we could recite chapters verbatim. I recount the trips to drop the children off at University with Windsor’s boot crammed to the rafters, the rescue mission to Edinburgh when Prom dress daughter had concussion, driving to tense Medical school interviews with my Eldest and all those voyages to the vet with Small Boy and Boris the gecko.

So many memories, so many talked-about tales, so many crazy times. And through it all there was Windsor, ever-reliable, chugging along the motorways of our lands, without complaint… the truly trustiest of Toyotas. What a car he’s been and what a betrayal it feels to be leaving him behind today.

And in that moment, I know I am one of the 53% and that, if money and space were no object, I would keep him forever…

The February Birthdays

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8 February 2025

Oh February, for decades the month of the ‘double birthday’ with two of my children celebrating their births on consecutive days! Until this year, the first one where neither of them is at home ….

One is is Nepal, one is is a University lab and both happy and well. Gifts and cards are sent and calls are made … nonetheless …

My social media feed lights up with ‘memories’ of parties past. Crowded tables of little children munching party food, smiling faces at local soft-play centres, and plenty of cakes and candles. Then to more recent times and the teenage years;  thumping music, beer pong, disco balls, loud singing and that very same table groaning with alcohol.

And in the echoing silence of a house now empty of my three offspring, I feel a little forlorn …

How to impress your children…

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Friday 17 January 2025

Well it’s with a traffic cone as it turns out!

Oh the humble traffic cone, so often the unlikely hero of late night pranks. Something about the combination of our endless town-centre roadworks and a good helping of alcohol has made it quite commonplace to see those bold orange and white striped mounds of plastic adorning historic statues, topping iconic buildings and appearing in student kitchens on hung-over morning-afters.

But my cone is not in this ilk at all. Oh no, it is far more respectful. Let me reveal all…

I am driving through the gates of a large institution for a morning meeting when I stop to ask where to park. After a quick verification of my ID I am waved towards … my very own parking spot. Yes a traffic cone, with my name, (my actual name!) on it, stands proud guard over a reserved space just outside the reception.

As chance would have it, I am on a call with my eldest child at this very moment and so impressed is she with the news that, as I am hopping out of the driver’s seat to move the cone, her amplified voice bellows out on speaker phone

“Your name is on it! That is so cool, take a picture mum!”

Passersby look a little startled and all I can do is shrug, point at the cone and say

“Not every day you get your name on a cone!”

What I don’t add, but it could, is that it is even less every-day is doing anything that impresses your children. It is a great start to Friday…

Christmas 2024

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Monday 30 December 2024

Sitting with a coffee and one, of many, left over mini-mince pies, it seems the perfect moment to look back at the festive break…

Once all my kids are safely home, despite load upon load of dirty washing and a speeding ticket, courtesy of the variable-speed-lottery of the M5, it ffeels as if Christmas has begun. It means help with the food shop, extra hands for decorations, time-honoured  cheesy festive films and a house full of laughter and companionship again.

And so to the ‘big day’ itself. Much is familiar: guests, food, crackers, games and fizz.

But there are a few new twists. The hot water packs in on Christmas Eve, so it is cold showers for the hard-core (and a bit of festive grime for the rest) throughout the social season.

Most significant of all, there is  an extra pair of hands in the kitchen… the ill-fated Smallboy. Buoyed by the success of some roast potatoes he’d served up for pals at Uni, he begged to join the Christmas cooking crew. But scarcely had we added his name to the spreadsheet … oh yes, you heard me right, I never do the Xmas dinner without microsoft excel … than calamity starts to dog his every culinary move. Half of our usual crispy spuds became an impromptu mash… and the first tray of turkey had to be hurriedly scooped from the floor, whilst we distracted guests with crackers and paper hats.

I also branch out with my desserts, introducing after -dinner-coffee with  a mini mince pie – Ta da!  In my head,  ‘ultra-chic’. In reality, it goes down about as well as last year’s ‘signature cocktails’ … not a single blinkin’ taker! And hence why, with January on the horizon, I am still munching my way through several boxes of the darned festive pastries!

With the cooking done and the board games exhausted we sink happily down to watch the ‘Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special‘ and my oh my it does no disappoint. I mean. if you were not misty eyed as Mick stands up at the wedding ceremony and up on your feet cheering as the entire cast race to Portsmouth,,, quite frankly, what is wrong with you?

And so the sun sets on another spell of festive cheer. Smith and Ness are married, me and my kids have been re-united. For now, at least, all is well with the world…

Being a mum, being a daughter…

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23 November 2024

It is Smallboy’s first performance with his university orchestra and my mum decides that she want to go and listen. The only problem … the 200 miles between us.

Bless Smallboy, he does like his music but I suspect that he may have auditioned for the symphony orchestra in his first term at university mainly to keep me happy. And so, when he mentions a first concert it is a no-brainer that I shall be going to listen but for my mum… well after two years of hospitals, operations and emergency trips to A and E, it feels like a big deal.

For this trip alone, my beleaguered mama announces that she is postponing her latest procedure. A cold dread grips my heart at the prospect of managing it all. Both  my brothers voice concerns and  I lose a few nights sleep driven to distraction by the thought of everything that could go wrong.

But, a small gift from heaven is heading my way. Prom dress daughter heads south for the weekend to lend a hand, exuding her cheery ‘can do’ calm.  I take a deep breath and resolve to put my worries aside. I book a suitable hotel, pump, charge up mum’s heated cushions, and purchase tickets in accessible concert-venue seats. Then, early on Saturday morning, facing the oncoming wrath of Storm Bert, we hit the M6.

And it goes really well. Yes we arrive like drowned rats – Storm Bert is so ferocious that even 2 minutes out of the car, for a quick pit stop, and we are soaked to our very skins. Yes it is a bit of a challenge getting ubers everywhere upon arrival and balancing extra cases, bags and accessories so that mum can concentrate on herself and her walking stick. Yes the interval small-talk with ex-hub and his latest new woman is a bit stilted. But, and it is a big but, those small details aside we have a blast.

Smallboy excels himself with fun restaurants for us all to eat at, plenty of wine is quaffed, the concert is glorious and … one of my favourite moments of all: the hotel bar.

Hotel bars – did you know they were such great places? I think it is where all the fun guests convene in the late night hours. It is, without question, the spot for the ones who are ‘up for a good time’  and know how to make the most of a weekend away.  And one of our party is definitely in that category. 

Is mum tired and ready for bed as we reach the hotel post-concert … hell no!

“Let’s have a quick brandy in the bar first”

is her suggestion. So we hit ‘terrace bar’ on the elevator and stroll in to an amazing atmosphere. The friendliest of bar servers offers not only to bring our cognacs over but also to ‘warm them’. One ‘quick drink’ becomes two … then three and eventually, we all stumble, a little noisily, back to our room, knowing that we shall we sleeping like logs!

Of course, I am exhausted when we finally make it home the next day, after a grim drive through the torrential rain and gloom. And know it takes mum two of three days to recove. But are there any regrets … absolutely none! And here’s why.

When I began my blog I knew that time was ticking on my home, defined by me and my ‘three teens’, and I wrote to capture and cherish those dwindling years as a full time family of four. The truth of life, however, is that time is ticking on all our relationships.

Who knows if we shall be able to manage such a trip again, Our memorable weekend is a timely reminder that it is not just as a mum but also as a daughter, that I need to make time for fun, laughter and patience with all my loved one, because too soon will come a day when such chances run out…

Laughs, Lit and late night rehearsals..

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Sunday 13 October 2024

Seriously, how did I ever manage to live life before I dropped to a 4-day week? This has been one busy weekend…

Friday night is dinner and drinks with some old colleagues and it makes me realise, a little sadly, how much less I laugh in my new place of work.

Is the job I have now easier?

Yes!

Is it less stressful?

Yes!

But, and as it turns out it is a big but,

Do I now have, bestie work buddies….?

Alas, I do not. Of course I do not, I have only been there for 7 weeks, whereas I worked for for 14 years in my previous post. And over that long stretch of time, you make some fantastic friendships. You have doors you can knock on, for a rant, a cry or…most importantly the chance to double up with laughter and shake with mirth until tears run down your face. And I don’t think I had realised how much I had missed that and how important it was to me until we arrange our meet up. We share a little wine, we eat good food, swap stories and have a great catch-up.

Saturday, I head to Ilkley and my second trip to the famous literature festival, which really is an incredible event. In the local churches and school halls of this small Yorkshire town, fine writers and many celebrity names, rub shoulders with us mere mortals to give talks about their latest publications. This years’ programme included: Jodi Picoult, Kate Atkinson, Julian Clary, Gyles Brandreth, Prue Leith, John Suchet, Carol Ann Duffy… and Teresa May!

We have tickets for a cricketing talk and Paul Sinha… yes, the guy from ‘The Chase’ and dodge the showers to grab quick coffees and rushed nachos as we hop from one location to another. Its fun, the speakers are engaging and witty and it makes for a great day out.

Sunday, I dash about doing some chores and straightening up the homestead before setting the SatNav for Preston. I have a late night rehearsal, the final one in a trilogy of madness, preparing for a concert next weekend. Three long hours, 7pm to 10pm, has been a killer on a Sunday night and, as a I eventually drive home, the windscreen wipers going nineteen to the dozen as they battle the torrential rain, it is cold and dark and I am a weary woman. But a happy one too.

After all, whats a weekend for… if not for living life to the full…

Play List for Life

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Friday 20 September 2024

I hear about, National Playlist Day, on the radio this morning. It is a UK-wide online event, that celebrates the power of music for people with dementia. The event encourages people to share a song from their past on social media using the hashtag #NationalPlaylistDay. So what song(s) would we all pick? What are the tracks that instantly transport us back to a former place or time? Here are some of mine…

‘Panic’ by the Smiths whisks me back to the Summer of 1986 where, with two of my friends, I had discovered the Hacienda night club. Here the dress-code was free and easy, everyone danced all night and this track…well this track made the whole place go wild. Manchester seemed like the coolest city on the planet and being young and free, well that felt as if it would last forever.

Steve Wonder’s ‘Superstition’, gosh for so many reasons my favourite pop song, but one of these is certainly that it reminds me of University and the much loved cellar disco. A Monday night staple for students in our college. Do some work then simply stumble down the steps of ‘The Cellar’ for beer, a catch-up and a dance. So simple, so perfect…why is life no longer this good?

Tracey Chapman was the soundtrack to my 5 month trip around South East Asia. Something about her soulful, emotive lyrics must have suited the fruit muesli backpackers of Yogyakarta and Kuta Beach back in the late 1980s. I bought the album from a street seller while I was over there (and still have it) ‘Baby can I hold you…‘ ‘Fast car...’ , they come on the radio and I am transported back to another continent.

Proud Mary – the Tina Turner classic. This one makes me howl with laughter. The occasion, a colleague’s wedding. The laughing-until-we- cried? My dreadful dancing; swaying about in a world of my own, devoid of any rhythm or connection to either the music or anyone else on the dance floor … all immortalised for ever on a colleague’s phone video and on the leaving card they made for me.

I turn to think about family. Music and my parents – so many pieces remind me of them, but this song, by Steven Sondheim, is my favourite memory. I can still see them singing it together in the kitchen; those lyrics are just so beautiful, and the moment was just so lovely,

The sun comes up, I think about you
The coffee cup, I think about you
I want you so, it’s like I’m losing my mind ……

But I’ll finish with my children, we share countless silly songs that make me laugh out loud but my three song picks take me back to specific moments and places, that I can still picture as if I were there.

‘Your Song’ was voted the nation’s favourite Elton John hit in a recent poll. For me however, it was hearing Euan Magregor sing it in Moulin Rouge that really put it onto my radar. The year I saw this movie was 2002, the same year as my first child was born. Hearing it now reminds me of singing it to her in our lounge, as I tried to rock her to sleep, the lyrics just perfect for the arrival of such an amazing little person in our lives.

‘Fix you‘ is my tune for Prom-dress daughter and she would know why. We’d both be back in the car on a Saturday morning, after Music Centre, queuing for the car wash with me trying (and failing) for the umpteenth time to learn the harmonies in the chorus. Much laughter and, from such a ordinary moment, such joyful times.

And I finish with Smallboy. Nat King Cole was blasting from the radio in the delivery suite when he was born. ‘Let there be Love’  Its a terrific tune and when I hear it now I recall, with a smile how I, high as a kite on gas and air stood up, resembling a magnificent beached whale, to perform this number for the astonished midwife, using a mouthpiece as a microphone.

Music … truly one of life’s great gifts. Whether it’s for a future playlist when ill, or just for the sheer fun of it, take a trip down memory lane and think about the songs that you’d put on yours …