Welcome to the Easter holiday, where parents look even more stressed and dishevelled in public than usual and children turn into sugar-craving energiser bunnies on a war path for fun and/or carnage. I’d imagine right now that millions of households across our fair nation are in turmoil, entire families buried under mountains of dirty laundry, glass doors and windows smeared unceremoniously with grubby fingers and water based poster paints, and bedroom floors desperately seeking asylum under a sea of mismatched and broken toys. The joys of parenthood, the love of a family and the melodic and heart felt sound of children’s innocent giggles and laughter make the sunny spring end of term a magical time.
Millie finished her last day of school with a lovely little Easter feast which she had made at school together with a menu, and we all had a nibble after walking home. One week into the holidays and both of the children have been ill already, Millie’s antibiotics are thankfully working for her water infection but she now has the sniffles of a springtime cold, and poor Gabriele has managed to catch conjunctivitis from a play friend, the poor tot. So I am on Mummy tissue duty, tending sniffles, bottoms, eyes, mouths, tummies and entertainment; but I wouldn’t have it any other way! We have been visiting family and grandparents this week, catching up with cousins, aunts and uncles and celebrating a family birthday for which the children made a beautiful card together.
As the weather has been so beautiful and sunny we’ve been out in the garden everyday, planting strawberries, a herb garden and adding a splash of glitter and sparkle with brightly coloured windmills, butterflies and bugs. The muddy waterlogged turf is gradually turning to lush green grass again, and buds are appearing on our fruit trees and bushes. Preparation has begun for summer and I can’t wait to see and smell the wonders of nature as the children play and explore outdoors. We spent a lovely afternoon at the Buckinghamshire Railway Centre in Quainton, riding steam trains, stepping back in time and picnicking in the sun.
We finished off our week with a spot of retail therapy as Millie and I went shoe shopping and chose matching styles of shoe. It was so precious to see her face light up as she realised she could be just like Mummy, and it made me smile to think that one day we’ll be wearing the same clothes and swapping handbags and beauty tips; two little mother hens, chattering over a cup of tea and putting the world to rights. I just love my children so much I could pop with enthusiasm.
Speaking of children, it’s not often that I have or even remember my dreams, but this week for some strange reason I did and it was so loving and peaceful that it really got to me after I woke up. I had a dream about being 26wks pregnant with a baby girl, and I didn’t actually say or do anything, I just looked down at a perfectly firm and round baby bump and felt full of love and contentment. It was a bright sunny day and I was completely at peace, feeling on top of the world as I watched my bump stick out to an angle and a tiny foot kick and run a heel down the length of my stomach. I smiled lovingly at the contact with my unborn child which probably lasted all of sixty seconds, but in that moment it was enough to touch my heart. When I woke up I had my arms wrapped right around myself, huddled up tight in a ball in bed. As I stretched out, yawned and rubbed my eyes I realised that I’d been dreaming, and that warm happy place I had just come away from was nothing more than an illusion. I’d awoken to the reality of yet another morning alone, at stupid o’clock in the early hours with both the children still fast asleep, but I was grateful for such a loving and beautiful feeling. Who knows why we dream, is it our wildest fantasies played out in our minds eye to satisfy our mundane daily strife? Or perhaps it’s some form of subliminal message, a warning or encouragement to keep us going on the right track in times when we lose sight of which way is up. It could even be divine intervention of some kind, a premonition or calling which alters our path and leads us onto bigger and better things than what we believe we’re only capable of, implanting a desire so that we subconsciously act upon its and realise our true ambition. Either way I never dream, and if I do then I hardly remember it, and in this instance it’s been a very long time since I woke up feeling so loved and at peace which is such a cruel shame that my reality right now is a million miles away from what my heart just showed me.
I’m certainly not saying that I want another child, or at least I don’t think that I do. Having sadly lost a baby a few years ago now I don’t think I was ever given the chance to grieve properly, and maybe that’s what’s in the back of my mind right now because of my dream, who knows. I obviously won’t be having a baby anytime soon, certainly not without being married first, one day, if ever. But it confused me as to why I had a dream about a baby girl, why I felt such intense love and a connection for an unborn child, and why she came into my dream now? Surely this is a time when I am most alone in life, when I have no husband or protector to make me feel safe and loved, and when I’m the least likely to ever have nor want another child. Why show a starving man pictures of plentiful food, or a poor child a catalogue of expensive toys, knowing that they neither can have it? To romance a spinster with the concept of being loved and with child is quite frankly cruel and uncalled for, but at the same time it filled me inside with a warmth that no amount of heat can ever create. I can think of a million other random and pointless dreams and nightmares that I’ve had without meaning, where monsters chase me through the woods or my teeth fall out whilst I’m shopping in my pyjamas; yet within minutes after waking they were instantly forgotten. This time, this dream, this stage of my life, it touched my heart. I just wish I could shake the anonymous weight that it’s now left inside my chest.
And on the topic of babies, this magazine possibly won’t help me to marry and have another child anytime this century. Being a health and beauty blogger, and a rather curious cat, I have researched and reviewed the topic of semen facials, which may sound disgusting and controversial, but in the eyes of a reviewer when you hear about a new workout, diet or gadget, regardless of what it is or how much it costs, I just can’t help but want to know more about it so that I can assess and report my views and findings. I was asked recently to share my thoughts with a leading UK weekly magazine which I did, and I have asked that all proceeds from it be donated to Cancer Research UK, which is a charity that I hold dear to my heart and will be supporting this year. I think this topic is very much down to the individual to either understand it for what it is, a beauty procedure, or to take offence and have a negative opinion of it. But that’s perfectly fine, we’re all entitled to our own opinion. Millions of men, women and teenagers all over the world on a daily basis apply heavily manufactured cosmetics to their skin, have invasive beauty procedures, cosmetic surgery and body alterations in order to improve their appearance and achieve the results that they desire; packing their bodies full of chemicals, toxins and poison. As we never physically see the ingredients that go into our luxuriously glossy face creams in expensive glass containers and purposely designed packaging, we never truly consider its contents and instead view it solely on its benefits; does it work for me or not? If every chemical name and number, animal produce, extract and element were to be photographed and displayed on the packaging we would never use cosmetics again. Reviewing a natural, homemade, basic facial which everybody is capable of constructing in a fresh and organic way, for me, was refreshing and interesting. A few generations ago, every woman made her own cosmetics and medicines from home from old wives tales to trial and error. Herbs, spices, fruits, food and animal produce all played a part in concocting lotions and potions because it was all that was available at the time. So long as it doesn’t harm anybody and isn’t endangering the planet then I welcome all recommendations, beauty tips, recipes and health fixes for review. After all, chefs and scientists come up with wacky, wild and groundbreaking creations so why shouldn’t we as the consumer?