Category Archives: Sophie is parenting

Halloween creations

One of my favourite things about halloween is the excuse it brings to begin getting all creative again. It’s the time of year when the darkness is beginning to draw in faster than you can blink, the only benefit of which as far as I can make out is more hours to spend inside making things – and (whisper it) to begin limbering up those creative muscles in time for Christmas.

I had more ideas than I had time this year – predictably perhaps, but also because I’d set the end of October as the deadline for finishing the second draft of my novel. Despite that I still managed to fit in some little projects which I will share with you here.

Costumes

Now Arthur’s costume this year was a piece of cake. He is still just a little bit obsessed with The Gruffalo, and having found him the perfect onesie and wellington boots his outfit for the best part of last week was sorted.

When it came to halloween itself though I was keen for Leigh and I to join in. Having toyed around with various ideas, all of which I quickly dismissed as way too ambitious, I set out to solve this creative challenge with two socks and a pair of tights.

The snake came first: a few bits of felt and a red pipe cleaner turning a green football sock into the easiest puppet ever.

Then came the fox. I’d already decided to pinch a pair of Arthur’s baby-led weaning ears, but I was not going to pull it off without a nice bushy tail. This is where the lovely orange tights came in: stuff one leg with a generous helping of toy filling (I had some kapok left over from another project but anything would do), then cover it with the other leg for a nice deep colour and extra stability.

I used some extra pipe cleaners to give the tail a bit of bend too, just twisting them down into the stuffing, then embellished the end with a couple more scraps of felt.

A length of elastic folded into the open end of the tights and sewn firmly and hey presto! A tail.

The second sock was going to be transformed into the owl, but I have to admit that I ran out of time, resorting to something I’d made earlier…

(It was actually the result of a make a monster kit from Donna Wilson that Arthur had been given last Christmas, but it does look an awful lot like an owl).

It all came together pretty well in the end, and alongside Arthur’s Gruffalo we had me as the fox…

And Leigh as the snake (and the owl)…

And together we were the cast of The Gruffalo!

Arthur actually won a fancy dress competition for his costume on halloween night. I felt a bit bad at first seeing as all the other costumes kids were wearing had clearly taken considerably more time and effort than slipping on his onesie, but then I figured that with us as his ‘props’ he could hardly not win really!

Pumpkins

Now initially we had grand plans for Gruffalo pumpkins to go with our general theme. Arthur and Leigh had sat down to do some research a couple of days before, discussing possible images as Leigh hollowed out the pumpkins ready to begin.

But then we got distracted, and didn’t actually get round to beginning the carving till half an hour before we sat down for dinner on Friday. So we decided to go with something simpler, aiming for sort-of self-portraits. Leigh and I did our own, and then I carved Arthurs as a cat-mouse-gruffalo sort of creature. The resemblance is uncanny, don’t you think?

Baking

Now after all that lantern-carving we were left with an awful lot of pumpkin guts to deal with, and it seemed like a terrible waste just to throw them away. So I decided to do some baking – Arthur and I had a playdate during the day on Friday and it would have been a shame to turn up empty handed!

I used some of the pumpkin to make spiced pumpkin muffins using this recipe, and iced them with a cream cheese frosting – yum! I also rustled up some gingerbread cats for good measure – here’s the recipe for those, but they didn’t contain any pumpkin.

We had planned to put the rest of the puree into a pumpkin pie to enjoy after Sunday lunch with friends, but actually after a bit of research we discovered that your everyday pumpkin doesn’t actually make an especially good pie. So Leigh made a squash and sweet potato pie instead, adapting this recipe. It was so delicious I just had to share…

So there you have it: this year’s halloween creations. I’m feeling well and truly limbered up for christmas now. But that’s still ages away, right?

A halloween trail and a pumpkin parade

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With the weather being so unseasonably warm recently, we’ve had a brilliantly outdoorsy halloween.

It began on Thursday with a visit to Occombe Farm’s Bewitched Trail. It was aimed at 4-12 year olds, so Arthur and his friend were a little young to really make the most of it – but they still had a great time running around in the woods whilst us mums chatted and ‘helped’ them fill in the quiz sheet!

Arthur had his Gruffalo outfit on (I suspect he’d wear it permanently given half the chance) so the woodland setting was just perfect. He loved exploring around all the trees – I only noticed when I looked at the pictures that this one had a particularly spooky face on it…

There were some conveniently placed tree stumps too so he could take a rest from all the running around.

The trail was perfectly integrated into the natural environment, and whilst the toddlers couldn’t manage all of the challenges they were delighted to come across a little mouse hiding in a fallen trunk!

Arthur managed to hold onto his own mouse for almost all of his adventure, though there were points where the excitement got the better of him and poor mouse was left lying in the leaves…

Even the Gruffalo ran out of steam eventually, snuggling up in the sling for the rest of the trail.

On halloween itself we went exploring a little bit closer to home, heading up to the Guardhouse Cafe on Berry Head. They had all sorts of family friendly activities on offer, including a ghost hunt in the Napoleonic fort which I wish we’d managed to take part in. We ended up though focusing on the pumpkin parade – Arthur wasn’t really aware of halloween pumpkins last year, but this year he was fascinated by them – and just a little bit scared.

By the time we wandered up it was already beginning to get dark. Our local woods were feeling very creepy, but it was still incredibly warm and clear giving us some stunning views when we reached the headland.

We headed straight for the cafe, where parents and children were hard at work carving a spectacular array of pumpkins. Leigh and I settled down with a very welcome glass of wine and with only half an hour before the parade – and despite Arthur’s interventions – Leigh managed a very respectable effort of his own.

As soon as he was done it was torches at the ready to head out into the night. There was something very magical about walking out towards Berry Head itself in the dark, a weaving line of glowing lights with the hushed chatter blending with the wind and the lapping of the waves far below. These sounds were punctuated with Arthur’s little voice calling out ‘what is this? What is this?’ as he took in the latest bizarre experience we were exposing him to!

We formed a circle when we got to the end – not too close to the cliffs – and our guide regaled us with a ghost story before we turned and made our way back in the dark towards the cafe.

There it was time for the judging of the fancy dress and pumpkin competition. Arthur was again dressed as a little Gruffalo, backed up by our own efforts as the fox, snake and owl to complete the story (more on that in another post). The other children were wearing some really amazing costumes – there was a general spirit of gothic spookiness going on – but I think Arthur’s cuteness factor gave him the cutting edge because he was judged the winner.

It was a lovely end to a brilliant couple of hours of halloween fun. The party was continuing with a suitably spooky dinner but we thought we’d better get our little Gruffalo home. It was a good thing we left when we did because the woods really were pitch dark by the time we made our way back though them… But you’ll be glad to hear we all made it back in one piece!

Word of the week: trains

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Over the past couple of weeks, Arthur has developed a real passion for his train set. He was given it for Christmas last year, and whilst he’s shown a passing interest before it’s only recently that he’s really given it his full attention. He’s figured out how to put the pieces of track together, and whilst he loves it when someone sits down and plays with him he’s equally happy to be given the time to play with his train tracks by himself.

And this week that’s been particularly handy.

After our whirlwind trip to London I’ve had so much to catch up on. Not least the novel, which is edging ever closer to completion though I’m not quite there yet.

Because this has also been one of those weeks when my time and focus has been stretched in all sorts of directions I hadn’t exactly been anticipating. Meet ups with friends that I didn’t want to refuse, for Arthur’s sake or mine, despite knowing it would knock my schedule out of whack. Taking over a local twitter account (@TorbayPeople) because no-one else stepped up to the mark. A piece I wrote a while ago being published in The Guardian, the excitement of which threw me a bit yesterday!

And then of course there’s Halloween, which seems to have appeared out of nowhere this year! So throw in some pumpkin carving, some baking, some costume making.

It’s all been good fun, but I have been squeezing every last drop out of every second to fit it in.

And for much of that time, when I’ve been writing or blogging or tweeting or making something or another, Arthur has sat contentedly and played with his trains. Now that it’s finally the weekend, I’m looking forward to sitting down and playing with him too.

Y is for yawn

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This is one of the earliest pictures I have of Arthur. He’d been born less than two days before, and was still very much adjusting to being in the outside world. Everything was new. When he yawned, he scrunched up his big eyes and his tiny fists, and my heart melted.

Just as he was experiencing everything for the first time in those early days, so my world had transformed too into something I barely recognised. Its boundaries had shifted, the things that had seemed important before had become insignificant if not invisible. The edges of the universe had blurred as if to throw into sharp focus this being which had hurtled into its very core.

We didn’t move far from our bed at first. The bed where he was born. We snuggled up against the December cold, a family born along with this precious baby. Others came and went, cooing and crying and declaring his perfection. It was lovely to have them there, but lovelier still when they were gone and it was just us three.

Slowly we adjusted to our changed reality, venturing down the stairs and into the open air, that little being tucked up close beside my heart. Every step we have taken since has been an adventure, but I will never forget the magic of those moments when we lay still, cuddling and stretching and yawning and nurturing, watching and listening and glowing with the wonder of it all.

Joining in with The Alphabet Photography Project over at PODcast.

Possibly the best toddler museum in the world

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Other than our discovery of the playground at Coram’s Fields, the hands down highlight of last week’s trip to London for Arthur had to be the London Transport Museum. As a self-confessed transport geek I’ve always loved it myself – and it turns out that for a toddler it is pretty much heaven.

He’d already been overwhelmed with the excitement of being surrounded by buses and taxis and trains as we made our way around the city, and as soon as he saw the vehicles inside the museum he was off.

He was particularly drawn to this vintage car, desperate to be allowed to climb up over the luggage and sit inside.

Fortunately there was plenty else to distract him. He loved the scrolling lights inside one of the side exhibition spaces – they made him jump at first, but he was soon fascinated by the words and images all around him.

He was very taken by the miniature tube trains too – I think he spent about ten minutes pressing the buttons so he could watch them travel along their little tracks and back again, roping in any passing kids he could to join in too.

I think I was a bit more excited than him by the full size tube train simulation, but he was intrigued by the tunnel rushing by.

He found it much easier to get hands on with the driving in the All Aboard area, bouncing between the riverboat, train and bus like a pro.

Once he’d warmed up a bit he was ready to tackle his favourite ride of all: a full size London bus.

We had a fantastic afternoon, the only downside of which was that he then spent the rest of the week trying to get into the driver’s seat of the buses we travelled on. We’ll be heading back for sure next time we’re in the city, and in the meantime there is a little wooden tube train on his train tracks to remind him of his trip to London Town.

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Letting off steam in Coram’s Fields

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Arthur was a little superstar during our trip to London last week. There was lots about it that I think he enjoyed: he loved hanging out with new people in unusual places, and was totally captivated by the huge array of vehicles. But there was also lots that was rather testing for a toddler. Sitting still, mainly – on buses and tubes whilst we crossed the capital and in restaurants and cafés whilst mummy talked too much. He just wanted to explore, to run around – ‘walk and play!’ was his increasingly frustrated refrain.

And on Friday we found the perfect place for him to do just that. After a stroll around the not terribly toddler friendly British Museum and a very long wait for lunch at Strada, my friend suggested we go to Coram’s Fields. It hadn’t really been on my radar when I lived in London. I mean, I knew it was there – but you can’t even go in unless you’ve got a kid, and it really is focused towards the needs of the city’s littlest residents. And Arthur absolutely loved it.

He rode on the little spring-mounted animals first, crossing between the duck and the horsey several times. Then he saw the slide, making his way up the perfectly proportioned steps to show off the skills he’s learning in gymnastics – hanging off the bar and swinging himself onto the slide whilst I tried not to leap prematurely to his aid.

He had a go at climbing up the rope ladder too, and very nearly managed that on his own.

There were lots of little ‘baby houses’ for Arthur to explore, and he loved running between them without needing me to hold his hand every step of the way.

It was wonderful to see his increasing confidence, even if deep inside there was a pang of something else as I realised my little baby boy is growing up before my eyes.

It was definitely a much-needed pitstop – it’s always great to find new playgrounds, and this is one I’d heartily recommend if you find yourself in central London with an energetic toddler in tow!

Word of the week: London

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This week, Arthur and I have been hanging out in London. We were going to be up for the weekends anyway, with two family birthdays to celebrate, and as Leigh had a big exam this week and I had lots of friends to catch up with it made sense to stay in between. It was a little bit daunting – my parents were around last weekend, but after they headed back to Devon on Monday it was just me and the toddler. It turns out I needn’t have worried at all – we’ve had a brilliant week, and Arthur has taken everything in his stride.

We’ve traversed the city to touch base with some of my oldest and bestest friends, meeting new babies and hanging out with growing toddlers. Arthur has really impressed me by his ability to share and play nicely, and he’s enjoyed the journeys as much as anything – there have been lots of trains and tubes and buses and escalators to ride.

Possibly his favourite place has been the London Transport Museum, where he marvelled excitedly at the wide range of vehicles to admire and play with – more on that to come!

We’ve made the most of all the different cuisines available to us, managing to fit in Vietnamese, Spanish tapas, dim sum and Italian – and sushi on the South Bank before Arthur’s first cinema experience.

There’s been other culture too – architecture and street art and busking. I’ve missed the vibrancy of London, the sense that there’s going to be something new and exciting to see every time you turn the corner.

We haven’t entirely avoided the shopping, though I suspect on the whole I’ve enjoyed that more than Arthur. But he’s valiantly offered to carry my bags. And we did brave Hamleys, which wasn’t actually as bad as I feared.

Arthur hasn’t got to play outside as much as he normally would, but we did have fun embracing autumn (and trees) in Hyde park, and found a brilliant play area yesterday where he could let off some steam.

Although we’ve really enjoyed each other’s company, there’s no doubt Arthur’s missed his daddy too. He’s kept up with him through photos and hilariously surreal conversations on the iPad.

It hasn’t been quite the same though, and Arthur was very excited when he got to see him in the flesh last night. We both were.

We’ve got one more day in London, and by tomorrow I think we’ll be more than ready to head home. There’s lots to love about the buzz of the big city, but I’m very much looking forward to seeing the sea.

London leaves

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I love where I live, but as autumn encircles the UK I’ve felt a little envious of people further North. We’ve had hints of orange in our leaves, and they’re beginning to desert their branches for the ground, but all in all it’s a pretty poor show in comparison to the explosions of colour I’ve seen in photos from elsewhere.

I remember last year still being surrounded by green whilst rust coloured leaves fluttered across my Facebook feed, and we did get our turn eventually – fiery foliage hanging on long after other trees had turned to winter skeletons.

So I know that autumn will embrace Torbay eventually, but in the meantime I figured I should take advantage of our week in London to show Arthur what all the fuss is about.

It was this tree that caught my eye first, defiantly resplendent in yellow, despite being flanked in green. Arthur ran smiling across the mottled grass, picking up leaves to examine more closely along the way.

At one point he declared he wanted to climb a tree – I think he was inspired by the squirrels. I was impressed by his determination as he tried to work out how he could get purchase on the trunk, but actually in the end a hug seemed much more appropriate.

We continued on across the park, entranced by the increasingly rich pallet of colours surrounding us.

They are beautiful, those lovely London leaves. And an injection of colour was just what my autumn needed.

Word of the week: family

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This has been a sad week for us. We’ve said goodbye to two of the oldest members of our extended family, and Arthur has had his first experiences of the bittersweetness that comes with family funerals.

On Wednesday we travelled to Cardiff, where most of my Dad’s family are based, to attend the memorial service for my Great Aunty Gwen. She was ninety one when she died, and right to the end exuded a glamour reminiscent of times gone by. She was a wonderful musician, and though her natural home was in the classical world she still very much appreciated the more modern sound of my brother’s band and offered her advice as they readied themselves to release their music to the world.

Aunty Gwen never married, but as the sister of my late Granny she has always been a part of our family. She was a very private person, but in recent years, particularly around the time of my wedding, she began to talk of her lost love and the flame she still carried for him. I found it hard not to feel sad for her, often sitting alone at family gatherings. But as well as having the support of our extended family – particularly my Aunt and Uncle who still live in Cardiff – her memorial service brought home the important place she held in her local church and community.

I will miss her gentle, softly spoken manner, and the twinkle in her eye whenever she was reminded of her youth.

Then on Thursday we headed to The Lizard, the furthest reaches of Cornwall where most of my Mum’s family live. There we were to celebrate the incredible eighty five years lived by my Nanny, Dora, and to say our final goodbyes.

Even as we were travelling down it was clear this was going to be hard. I’m finding it difficult to know what to type now as the words keep catching in my throat and I feel tears pricking behind my eyes. She has been such an important presence in my life, so immensely inspiring in the strength and determination that saw her through some terrible tragedies and yet so calm and comforting too. Her pride in each and every one of her grandchildren was palpable, and I am so glad that Arthur got to meet her several times too over the past two years. Watching her sit with him on her knee was so magical – he seemed to ignite yet another side of her that I’d never seen before.

I read the eulogy at her funeral, and was astounded again at the life she lived. Looking round the packed church (they even had speakers outside for those who could not squeeze in) it was clear that she’d touched and inspired so many. I’m not going to retell her whole story here, but I am very, very grateful to the strangers who pushed a teenage Dora out of the path of a flying bomb in wartime Walthamstow.

My mum was so brave through it all, sharing a poem which urged us to focus on her legacy, on living our lives rather than dwelling on the passing of hers, and on doing so with love and happiness.

And my resounding memories of this week are of family coming together, solidarity in the face of sadness, with laughs as well as tears.

Sitting in my Grampa’s house with all the history it holds, watching Arthur weave between the legs of his aunts and uncles and my aunts and uncles and high-fiving his great grandfather when it was eventually time to leave.

Poring over all the incredible images my Mum’s brother had collected of their mother’s life, capturing so many family gatherings over the years. One of my favourites shows Nanny surrounded by the eldest of her many grandchildren, cousins proud as we said hello to the newest addition to our family. We’re all in our thirties now, and we were all there in that little Cornish village to say farewell to the grandmother we shared.

I know that I am very lucky to have such a wonderful extended family. And I’ve never been more grateful for my immediate family either, my parents, and my brothers, the women who’ve chosen to spend their lives with them and of course the gorgeous man who chose me, and our beautiful son.

We all gathered at my parents’ house on Wednesday evening, had a late supper and raised toasts to those who are no longer with us.

There was something magical in the air that night, and I think it is what people call love.

Goodbye Aunty Gwen, and goodbye dear Nanny. Thank you for the lives you lived. We will do our very best to live ours in a way that will continue to make you feel proud.

October sun

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As I watch the world through rain-battered windows, white horses galloping across the bay to the invisible shores beyond and the wind, still eerie in the daylight, ricocheting off my neighbours’ walls, it’s worth remembering that not every day is like this.

Just the other side of the weekend we woke to blue skies, the sea calm and the sunlight glinting off cliffs as far away as Dorset. The air was crisp but still warm in the sun. It didn’t feel much like autumn then at all.

I followed Arthur up through the woods and along the path to the fort. His excitement was palpable: as with all of our little adventures, even the well-trodden ones, there was a sense that anything might happen.

When we got there, it wasn’t clear whether he had shrunk or the world had grown. Whichever it was, he looked so tiny as he ran around being chased by his shadow that it almost took my breath away.

Once his efforts had exhausted him he came back to me again, both bigger and smaller now and ready for sleep: peaceful and contented in the October sun.

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Sophie is…

on a journey of (re)discovery in a brave new world.