Category Archives: Sophie is parenting

Fireworks on the water

One of the many awesome things about living by the seaside is that fireworks are not just for November and New Year’s Eve – there seems to be a display every other weekend at the moment, and whilst we’ve been busy enough to miss most of them we finally made it to a pretty special one last week as part of the Salcombe Regatta.

It was particularly special because, being just up the estuary from my folks’ place, we were able to go by boat. I’m not sure Arthur had any idea what we were up to as we bundled him up and set off down the valley at just the point we would normally have been winding him down to go to bed. He predictably got very excited when he saw the water, taking advantage of the heavy cool bag Leigh was carrying to make a beeline for it.

We had time for a bit of all-important stone throwing and high-fiving…

And then it was into the dory to pootle across to Bombay Duck.

I think Arthur was still a little bit sceptical at this point, but he definitely perked up once we made it on board.

After a rainy start to the day it turned into such a beautiful evening. The light is always so stunning at that time of day anyway, and being on the water is especially magical. We found ourselves a buoy with a good vantage point and set up our little picnic. Arthur was a bit too excited to eat much but the rest of us tucked in.

As we ate, more and more boats began to gather in anticipation, and once darkness fell the fireworks began. It wasn’t the first fireworks display Arthur had been to, but it was the first where he didn’t just retreat to the boob as he tried to compute what on earth was going on!

He watched wide-eyed as colour filled the sky, calling out ‘boom! boom!’ in echo of the bangs. He was still a little shell-shocked, but I’m pretty sure he loved it.

I hope so anyway – I turn into a big kid whenever anyone mentions fireworks so we’ll be going to plenty more displays over the coming months and years.

I took lots of pictures, but most of them are blurs (I blame the rocky boat…) This one captures what it was all about for me though – balls of light and colour exploding in the night sky, illuminating the boats below as the reflections shimmer across the water with the lights of Salcombe town twinkling in the distance.

Brmm brmm baby

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Last night was our last night in Barcelona. And as well as saying goodbye to our wonderful friends who we see far too rarely for my liking, Arthur had to say goodbye to his favourite new toy.

Every time we went over to our friends’ house Arthur would gravitate towards the girls’ toy pram and baby Clara. He liked to give her cuddles, but also I think the pram was an extension of his growing love of anything with wheels – cars, buses, tractors, motorbikes. Accordingly he christened her the brmm brmm baby.

Arthur spent hours pushing her around the living room and terrace, his evident delight both adorable and more than a little bit amusing. He doesn’t have any dolls yet: I’ve been thinking about making him one, and may need to make that a priority now we’re home. I’d like to encourage this nurturing instinct he’s developing, and it would definitely help focus the imaginative play he’s increasingly leaning towards. I guess I’ll need to give him the option of a pram as well as a sling to transport his baby too!

There were lots of brilliant things about this week – standby for a longer post about exploring Barcelona with a toddler – but one of the best bits was watching him play with the two little girls who, through their mum, were really my first introduction to motherhood. They were remarkably patient with him, and very good at sharing their toys – especially the brmm brmm baby.

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M is for mummy

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We’ve made the transition this week from ‘mama’ to ‘mummy’. It sounds so much more grown up somehow, but more deliberate too. A definite naming, almost an act of possession: you are mummy, and you are mine.

I am his, too, there is no doubt about it. He has transformed me, consumed me in the best way possible. I was always a little afraid, before he came along, that I would find the presence of my imagined child stifling. That I would no longer be able to be me, to have the time I thought I needed to myself, to do the things I thought I needed to do.

Turns out there was another me lurking somewhere deep inside, waiting to be awakened. This me has different priorities, different values. She’s not so different really, but different enough to deserve the name ‘mummy’. And she does not feel stifled, not at all.

When I wake in the morning and hear him turning our names over in his mouth, articulating the little family that marks his place in the world – ‘mummy, daddy, baby’ – my heart sings. I am his, and he is mine. Together there is little we cannot do.

M is for mummy.

Joining in with The Alphabet Photography Project over at PODcast.

Airplane!

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On warm summer evenings with the last of the light reflecting off the water we have often stood and looked at the Riviera Wheel glittering across the bay. We have said many times that we should make the time to ride it, and last week – finding ourselves in Torquay on a glorious day with an hour to kill – we finally did.

Arthur could not conceal his excitement as we approached: he cried out ‘Airplane! Airplane!’, pointing at the swinging cabins which circled high above us.

Once we were up he was mesmerised. The views were spectacular over the marina and the town, with the beautiful blue waters of Torbay stretching out into the distance.

It it was a place to step back from the heat and the hecticness of the streets below, to pause and reflect on just what a beautiful part of the country we live in, to regain a little perspective. Arthur was so transfixed by the views that Leigh and I even had a few moments to revel in the romance of it all.

Word of the Week: Play

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One of the loveliest things about the stage Arthur is at at the moment is how completely he is embracing play. He will often wake up in the morning and, once he’s orientated himself and had his milk and cuddles declare his desire to ‘walk, play!’ repeatedly until we help him down from the bed.

He calls out from the highchair too, and sometimes from the sling: ‘walk, play! Walk, play! Walk, play!’

I love that he is articulating that need to move and explore, to actively engage in the serious business of playing that is going to be so important in the next few years of his development. It gives me a real thrill to watch the beginnings of make believe, to watch him creating his own world out of the things that are around him.

Of course if there are other children around to play with that’s even better. Grown ups are good sometimes too, but Arthur is beginning to make a distinction between the worlds we inhabit and more often than not is drawn to the vitality and creativity of those who have not yet felt the straightjacket of adulthood.

At the festival we were at last weekend it was wonderful to see him running around with my cousin’s kids and their neighbours. He was a little forlorn without them when we got home, but the arrival of his cousins from London soon distracted him!

He has spent the week playing in the garden, determined to ride his new dumper truck and keep up with the pace of his older playmates.

There’s been pool and beach fun too – we literally couldn’t have picked a better week to share the joys of living on the English Riviera!

Arthur’s back on his own again now, and whilst I’ve caught him looking around for his absent playmates he hasn’t let it get to him too much. He constantly amazes me with his ability to entertain himself, to enter into the spirit of play whatever his circumstances and surroundings.

I guess that’s what makes childhood so special, really. And it is my pledge to you, Arthur, to give you as many opportunities to play as I can possibly muster.

Somersaulting into summer

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Continuing this summer’s emerging theme of music and partying and tents we have just had another fantastic weekend of very little internet – this time at the sensational Somersault Festival in North Devon.

We arrived on Thursday morning and set up camp with two other families – it was hard to tell who was more excited as the anticipation began to build, but kids and adults alike were determined to have a good time. It wasn’t hard.

Our little camp was a brilliant base for the weekend’s festivities. There were bubbles and body painting, duck baths and duelling ukeleles.

Arthur loved being able to roll out of bed in his pyjamas and get straight into a new day’s play. He’s becoming quite the seasoned little camper with all our adventures, and certainly seemed to sleep well in the tent with all the fresh air and excitement.

He loved exploring the festival site too – whether he was running around or cozied up in the sling, checking out the stalls or making new friends.

We were all super impressed with the kids’ area. I’ve always been curious about what goes on, slightly jealous of the glitter and magic and games in the children’s fields of festivals I’ve gone to in the past. This time though I had a child of my own to take me there, and it didn’t disappoint.

Arthur was particularly fond of frolicking with the fairies, and though I didn’t keep him still for long enough to do any crafts there was a great selection of different things to make – from a stunning array of masks to wings, wands and hula hoops.

The bigger kids we were with even made bath bombs – then had the genius idea of using them back at camp to soothe their tired feet as they prepared for an evening of dancing. I will definitely be getting Arthur onto that when he’s a bit older – though I will have to appoint myself chief tester…

One thing we certainly didn’t expect is just how HOT the weekend was going to be! We had a couple of showers, but nothing like the torrential downpours the Met office had been promising. Lots of people took the opportunity to cool off in the river – a pretty cool feature to have in the middle of a festival, though I’m glad no-one took an unintentional dip in the middle of the night!

We were sorely tempted to join them, but instead decided to head to the beach on Saturday afternoon. The sea was heavenly, and it was all we could do to tear Arthur away from running on the sand and splashing in the waves. I’ve never actually been to the North Devon coast before. It was pretty stunning – we’re already planning our next trip!

With the myriad of different things to do it was easy to almost forget we’d actually come for the music. The line-up was eclectic and exciting, a perfect blend of bands I know well and was looking forward to seeing again and people I hadn’t heard but wanted to! Arthur absolutely loved the music – whether he was chilling out in the afternoon sun at the Communion stage, jigging around in the sling to Jack Johnson or dancing to Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars with a huge grin on his face.

We weren’t able to get that close to the stage, mainly because Arthur has decided he won’t wear his ear defenders any more – they were awesome last summer when he was still tiny, but now that he’s a bit older I think we’re going to need to work on getting him used to them! The distance didn’t matter too much though – especially once Arthur was up on his Daddy’s shoulders so he could see what was going on.

I think he found the live music really inspiring, and it’s inspired me again to find more gigs to take him to. Festivals are brilliant for introducing kids to the sheer joy of live music – especially one that’s so completely family friendly as Somersault. It’s brilliant as a parent too to be able to do the things that are not so easy with a kid in tow – and to know that they’re enjoying it too rather than being stuck at home.

As the sun went down I was very glad to have a baby that still loves to be worn – he snuggled up in the Connecta where he was warm and safe, nodding off not that much later than his usual bedtime. Which meant I could stay up and enjoy the rest of the acts!

Ben Howard was superb on the Sunday night. I really love the new edgier direction his music seems to be taking, though it was great to hear the crowd singing along to the old favourites too.

My absolute musical highlight of the weekend was definitely Bear’s Den though. They played a fantastic set late on Sunday night on the Communion stage, with haunting melodies and infectious rhythms carried along by the banter of the band.

Even with such a packed weekend I still left feeling like there was so much we didn’t see or do or hear – which is a very good reason to go back next year. I think Arthur’s just going to love festivals more and more as he grows up. He was looking a little forlorn as we packed away the tents, and rocking his ukelele with renewed vigour even as we were trying to pack him into the car to make our way home.

Word of the Week: Swimming

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This week was a pretty momentous week for my little water baby: with the help of his float suit he had his first experience of swimming freely – and he loved it!

We spent a couple of days at my parents’ house, enjoying the peace and quiet after the crazy brilliance of their party. We were keen to make the most of their pool, and specifically to try out the float suit we’d ordered from Splash About.

We’d tried it out a couple of times when we were in Cyprus, but he was a little little for it then. It fits him much better now, though it still took a bit of getting used to. In our first session he was happy to hold on to the bars at the side of the pool, enjoying the novelty of not being supported by us but floundering a bit when we encouraged him to move away from the side.

And then the next day he amazed us by letting go, finding his balance, and actually beginning to move through the water.

We’re working on getting his legs kicking and paddling with his hands now, and he seems to be picking it up incredibly quickly. He even had a go in the sea when we were back in Brixham: the float suit seems to be working so well that we’ve invested in a little neoprene float jacket too for the colder water.

It’ll obviously be a little while before he’s able to swim without all the extra buoyancy, but it’s a pretty impressive start! I’m not sure who’s more excited by his new found skill to be honest – Arthur is clearly thrilled with himself, but I am one proud mummy.

Arthur’s first haircut

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Yesterday afternoon, after much umming and ahhing and wondering how much longer we could get away with not doing it, we sat Arthur down for his first proper haircut. We first tackled the fringe about six months ago – I held him down (well, on the boob) and my mum did the best she could to get the hair out of his eyes. He really didn’t like it very much – he let out Samson-esque wails of disapproval as if we were actually cutting away his strength with those lovely blond locks – and even then it made me feel sick to my stomach.

Yesterday was even worse. Well, for me anyway – fortunately Arthur handled the whole thing much better!

It’s hard to explain exactly why it was such a big deal. I suppose with any first haircut there’s a sense of a rite of passage, a transition from babyhood to boyhood that comes from altering the way nature intended him to look and complying to some extent with society’s expectations. For Arthur, his hair was a major part of his identity. He had a mass of dark hair when he was born, and rather than falling out as we were told to expect it just grew and grew, getting lighter and lighter with the passage of time and the bleaching rays of the sun. For a while now it’s been about 50-50 whether people who don’t know him will presume he’s a girl. That has mainly amused me rather than bothered me in any way, and it was almost becoming a reason not to cut his hair – especially when people told me I should. But then over this weekend, chilling with my parents and watching our little boy running around with those golden locks flowing behind him, Leigh and I decided it was time.

I’m very grateful that after bringing up four kids my mum is fairly confident with a pair of scissors. I’m not sure I would have been able to let a stranger loose on my baby, and my hairdressing skills are as yet non-existent. We trawled the internet for inspiration – I wanted to keep something of the spirit of Arthur’s amazing hair, even if we were going to have to lose the length – then sat him in his highchair, took a collective deep breath, and began.

He wasn’t totally convinced at first, though he soon settled into it.

We kept him distracted with some music, and that worked pretty well – in between the headbanging anyway. Three boxes of raisins helped too…

As did breaks for duddles on request.

By the time his patience really began to wane mum had got most of the length off – it wasn’t perfect, but it was getting there.

When he woke up this morning though there was an undeniable helmet-hair effect going on so we went in for another go. Mum was incredibly tolerant of my constant wincing and interference, and I think she did a pretty impressive job. I’m fairly sure we would have been thrown out of any hairdresser long before we got something I was happy with!

It will no doubt take a bit of getting used to having a toddler with vaguely normal looking hair, but it had to happen sometime. I’m curious to see how it will grow out again, though I doubt we’ll let it get quite as long as before. After all it’s going to be so much easier to wash all the food out of it now it’s shorter…

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Word of the Week: Offline

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Last weekend, my family held a party. Not just any little party: 400 people descended on my parents’ home in the South Hams, with about 200 of them camping. It was spectacularly fun, but as you can probably imagine it took just a little bit of organising. There were ten of us in the organising committee – my parents, me and Leigh, my three brothers and their partners. Emails have been flying between us for months to make sure everything was in place, but still as the weekend approached there was lots that had to be done on the ground.

We moved over there a few days before to help set up – in the house for a couple of days then migrating to our bell tent as other guests arrived. I had a few moments of rising panic as I realised I was never going to manage to keep up with the blog as well as everything else – internet access was sporadic, and there just wasn’t any spare time! And then I paused, took a breath, and reminded myself that this is my blog, and I’m writing on my terms. The world wouldn’t fall apart if I didn’t post for a while, and people wouldn’t hold it against me if I missed a few linkies.

So for a while I focused on just living life instead of documenting it (I only just managed to remember to take a few photos…) But now that things are getting back to normal I thought you might like to know what we’ve been up to!

We had a bit of a mission making sure the camping area was all set up and ready for people to arrive, and were glad for the sunshine as we traipsed up the hills and through the woodland, Arthur in the sling or running free.

We set up our little camp down by the estuary, and Arthur got very excited about the new house we were building.

He had so much fun playing in the open air – the weather was perfect, and a sense of magic began to pervade the air.

We set up a kids activity tent (our priorities for camping parties are a little different than they used to be…) where everyone got throughly covered in glitter.

By Saturday evening, we were well and truly ready to party. The tutus came out, the wings went on, and anticipation was building.

Arthur seemed to love his costume, and was in his element with so many other people to play with!

He was most excited when the music started though. In fact I think everyone was – my brother had managed to get the awesome Rubblebucket to come and party with us. Their set was amazing, and it was more than a little bit surreal watching the scene unfold in my parents’ courtyard.

The festivities continued well into the night, and the next day we had Arthur’s naming ceremony, a delicious spread of Sri Lankan curry, and lots more chatting and playing and catching up.

Come Sunday evening, those of us who remained were exhausted but happy, and we had a lovely few hours chilling down by the tents.

Arthur was truly in his element with so many people to talk to and play with, and it was truly lovely for us to have some quality time to hang out with friends we don’t get to see so often any more.

I think after six months of increasingly intense blogging with all its associated social media exploits I really needed a bit of a break where my only communication device was a walkie talkie. I have a feeling there might be a few more spells like that this summer too – after all, if real life wants to get in the way of the internet for a while I’d be churlish to stop it.

A boy in a tutu

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Next weekend, we’re going to a garden party with the theme of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Now I need little excuse to dress up, especially if that dressing up can possibly involve tutus. But I’d been pondering a little what to do for Arthur… I was working generally around the idea of ‘woodland elf’, but was having trouble finding anything terribly inspiring. And then we went to my friend’s daughter’s first birthday party. And she was given a tutu. And it looked fabulous.

It got me thinking that maybe I was being a little narrow-minded in not including tutus as part of Arthur’s dressing up repertoire. I mean, tutus come in all sorts of styles and colours, and surely I could find one that would be fun for a little boy? Having trawled the internet though I could find nothing that wasn’t incredibly girly or incredibly expensive. But what I did find was a great little tutorial for no sew tutus – the perfect style for a woodland elf too rather than the more manicured ballerina-esque approach.

Using the tutorial as a guide I rustled up a tutu in no time at all. I’m fairly free-form in my approach to making things, but I’ve tried to break down how I did it here in case you feel the need for a tutu in your life!

Super easy tutus (for girls OR boys)

You will need:

Net in your choice of colour(s) – how much will depend on the size of the tutu, for Arthur’s I used about 4m off the roll

A length of elastic to fit round the waist

Basic sewing kit

Step One:

Cut the netting into strips – about 10 cm wide and twice the length you want the finished tutu to be. I used equal amounts of three colours (light green, dark green and brown) which I think looked pretty cool.

Step Two:

Cut a length of elastic to fit around the waist. You want it to be stretched quite tight as the process of making the tutu loosens it a bit. I sewed the ends of the elastic together, but you could knot it if you prefer.

Step Three:

Find something to use as a frame for making the tutu: you want the elastic to be tight enough not to fall down but not stretched too much. I started off with the piano stool but that was actually a bit too big. The handle of Arthur’s walker was a much better size!

Taking each strip in turn, fold it in half, put the loop at the top over the elastic and then draw the two ends through and pull tight. I didn’t manage to get a very good photo of this process but hopefully you get the idea…

Keep going all the way around the piece of elastic. The tighter the knots the more strips of net you’ll need but the fuller the tutu will be.

Step Four:

Try the tutu on for size!

Arthur was a little bit sceptical at first but as you can see from the picture at the top of the post it wasn’t long before he was loving it!

I made one for myself too, following exactly the same process but just sizing everything up. The upturned piano stool was perfect this time.

So there you have it: two gorgeous tutus ready to party.

Leigh was feeling left out by the time I was done so I’ll be making him one too this week. Watch this space to see how his turns out, and also for all of our finished costumes! Just a few more bits to do…

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Sophie is…

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