The Midweek Meander

Hello hello lovely people, it’s been quite the morning here, she says wiping the literal sweat from her brow - we’re in the middle of a heatwave in England, if you hadn’t heard ;). We waved goodbye to our eldest son this morning who’s off on an expedition for two days into the wilds of beautiful Northumberland. He’ll be supervised, but from afar and must only contact supervisors in extreme emergency, so he and his pals have to fend for themselves for 36 hours. A group of 14-year-old boys left to their own devices in the countryside; it’ll be fine… won’t it?!

Yesterday was mostly spent packing his bag, ensuring he had everything he needs to survive - Bear Grylls’ style, obviously. I felt rather smug about how organised we were; all kit checked off and stowed away, with time to spare (this was a short-lived sense of smugness, as you’ll come to realise as you read on). The whole packing was made more exhausting than it needed to be though, because hunting out camping gear from the deep, dark depths of the ‘everything cupboard’ led to an impromptu declutter (poor, poor decision given the heatwave rendering us all incapable of functioning. Did I mention we’re in the middle of a heatwave?). I mean, that’s just a classic isn’t it? You go to look for a handbag you know is buried in a drawer somewhere and end up knee-deep in a wardrobe cull, questioning your life choices with a torrent of expletives filling the air.

Anyway, all packed and ready to go, it was a hasty goodbye as I had to dash up the motorway to a hospital appointment. Which is when it hit me. The realisation that although I’d remembered to pack him 18 hot dogs and homemade flapjack (there was also homemade brownie - I was on a roll), he had no pyjamas or a sweatshirt with him. What in the bloody hell was I thinking?! Well, that was it. Already feeling a little emotional about my biggest lad being so grown-up, I then wept all the way to my appointment over the shame of not packing my son a measly sweatshirt, only to look in the mirror when I arrived and see white streaks down my face where the ugly-crying had created rivulets through my bronzer. Great. Bloody great. Now I looked like I’d applied my make-up with one of the kids’ felt-tip pens.

What a start to the day! (I’ll not go into how I then couldn’t find a parking space and a van driver also yelled at me, so I yelled back whilst frantically rubbing at my cheeks, trying to blend my patchy face.)

So, the boyo may be a little chilly this evening but at least he has hot dogs aplenty to keep him feeling full, ha! Thank god for the heatwave, that’s all I can say (although, typically, it’s meant to be a lot cooler this evening). I’d definitely describe my style of parenting as extremely enthusiastic but with a dash of haphazardness thrown in, just to keep things spicy.

Moving hastily on before I overshare other examples of my ‘excellent’ parenting, and I was going to share with you the latest designs for my kitchen makeover (which is actually very exciting), but I’m going to save that for another time, and wanted instead to talk about something a little more personal this week. Very personal actually.

I occasionally share pieces like this because, not only is it good to mix things up now and again, but I’ve always maintained that this would be a home for more than just beautiful interior design inspiration. It’s also a place that should feel relaxed, relatable and almost as though we’re sat down, having a cuppa and a chat together.

So, let me share with you something I’ve been sitting with for a little while. It might even resonate with a few of you…

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