How the subject arose I can't quite remember, but today at a friends birthday lunch, the issue of how we would deal with the "sex" issue as our children reached a certain age came to the fray.
I have to admit I was quietly surprised by the fact that some of my friends, who are quite liberal in many ways and talk openly when it comes to matters of a carnal nature, seemed to clam up when it came to the thought of approaching the subject with their children.
It is for most parents I feel, the looming elephant in the room. Like potty training, religion and politics, it falls in the same category of things parents dread bringing up with their children, an area of growing up that many of us wish that children would quietly and easily discover for themselves.
Look, you can't get away from the fact that your children are eventually going to do IT. They are also going to try drinking, smoking (possibly drugs), you know that because you have done it too. Take yourself back 10, 20, 30 years or so - you have to ask yourself how would you have wanted your parents to re-act? Did they do it the right way?
I have to say that I think my parents got it right. They didn't make a big thing about it yet neither did they pretend that they thought we would stay virgins forever. Both mum and dad made it clear that if we wanted to discuss it they were happy to do so.
From a young age we would also happily sit alongside our parents watching comedy films such as Lemon Popsicle http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079118/ and Porky's http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084522/, all relating to sexually frustrated young men painfully and usually unsuccessfully trying to lose their virginity, so maybe that helped lighten things up a bit.
I think my dad felt that his remit as a parent was to find as many ways possible to embarrass his children. Let me just take a moment to list some things that we were subjected to
My dad would....
1, Lie on the floor supermarkets calling out our names
2, Sing in the street
3, Walk out in his underpants in the street
4, Sing really loudly during services at synagogue to try and out sing the choir
5, Do the dad dance at wedding, barmitzvah, birthday parties (fortunately not at funerals)
6, Make silly noises and jump up and down pointing at us in the street so that everyone would look
Yet, there is one thing that mostly sticks out in my memory, in fact I can't even call it a memory as still to this day, my dad will hasten to add some sort of sexual pun or innuendo into any conversation, normally relating to a woman's breasts. Now, as much as it did and still does make me cringe, in some ways having this issue so openly and jokingly discussed meant that sex was never really an issue, or something that was seen "dirty" or "forbidden".
My oldest brother started bringing girlfriends home from the age of 17 and my parents were very comfortable with that, better in his bedroom than children's outdoor playhouse in a park (not me a friend).
Had I not developed an eating disorder throughout my teens, I totally believe that I would've been comfortable and confident when it came to sex. I would quite happily have taken boys home with me as it was where I felt safe.
Now I'm not saying that we should be buying vibrators and the karma sutra for our kids, but things are so different now, our kids can get information about anything at the click of a button. So would advice not be better coming from someone they can trust rather than a stranger on a screen.
We all have our own way of parenting and I am not here to preach or persuade, all I can say is that all the issues I ever had in my life were self inflicted rather than as result of lack of parental guidance.
Monday, 29 April 2013
Thursday, 25 April 2013
To my friends
When we discovered that we were having twins, we decided that it would be good to move near family (we're talking seconds away!!)
For twelve years we lived in Leeds, a vibrant city well known for its clubbing / bar scene and shopping. As a young couple it was a great place to be, we indulged in the nightlife and were happy to be part of the hustle and bustle of a reasonably large city.
During our time in Leeds I was trying to juggle two jobs, one as a gym instructor at for Virgin Active, the biggest, a swanky gym with over 1000 members. The other was as a PR and marketing consultant. So I knew lots of people, but having to spend so much time being bubbly and sociable in my job soon left me with little energy to socialise outside of my work.I avoided going to social events for work and always felt like I didn't really fit in as I wasn't one of the "team". I think people thought I was a bit of a snob or just very boring I had a small group of friends but, and I apologise to them now, I was an elusive friend, drifting in and out of their lives, never really making any firm commitments to them. Now, I don't want those that knew me to feel like I'm disrespecting them in some way, because I know that those people cared about me, it's more of a failure on my part to be a good friend.
The decision to move away from Leeds wasn't really a heart wrenching one. Whilst I would miss teaching my classes at Virgin and my regular indulgences in the M&S food hall, both me and Rick were ready for a change, especially with two little tiddlers on the way. We were living in a 2 bed terrace adjacent to a main road, with no garden, not the most ideal place to live with children. No, now we needed a house with a garden, preferably in a quiet and safe road - it was time to be ouch, dare I say it...sensible
So on a very cold and icy week in December 2010, we moved to a lovely house in Shropshire. For a few months I had withdrawal symptoms from living in the city. Whitchurch is a sleepy little town in what some would term "out in the sticks" Tractors are more common place than cars and an Indian is considered as posh food.
In Leeds, I was indulged with a choice of shops, restaurants, cinemas, bars, even museums.When I first hit Whitchurch town centre it felt like a step back in to the 1980's. It has that battered and bruised feeling of many town centres around the country due to the influx of giant supermarkets and retail parks on the outskirts. How was I ever going to survive, I thought!!!!
My saving grace were my kids, it was through them that I have learnt to love this town and all the many people I have met that live here.
Yes, I have become part of the mummy brigade, most of my friends are mums. OK, the children do factor highly in our conversations, but who else is going to understand when you feel like shit because you've been up since 4am, or are get as excited when your child does their first poo in a potty. But as a parent that support is crucial in surviving the sometimes exasperating parts of being a parent.
Being in a small place allows you to slow down and make more time for people, there is a need to be connected and after many years of feeling adrift I finally feel part of something again.
You know in my last blog post I mentioned that I was grieving for that little girl I once was? I honestly feel like I have been given a second chance to live again, I'm beginning to feel like I'm getting that sparkle back, there's a warmth and energy that is climbing up from my soul and starting to radiate through my skin.
As dramatic as it sounds, it's like my cold heart has been melted, fro many years, being a friend was a chore to me, something that didn't come easy. Now, being a friend means so much to me, having people to turn to is as important as breathing.
To those of my dear friends past and present, I owe you so much...........
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
― C.S. Lewis
For twelve years we lived in Leeds, a vibrant city well known for its clubbing / bar scene and shopping. As a young couple it was a great place to be, we indulged in the nightlife and were happy to be part of the hustle and bustle of a reasonably large city.
During our time in Leeds I was trying to juggle two jobs, one as a gym instructor at for Virgin Active, the biggest, a swanky gym with over 1000 members. The other was as a PR and marketing consultant. So I knew lots of people, but having to spend so much time being bubbly and sociable in my job soon left me with little energy to socialise outside of my work.I avoided going to social events for work and always felt like I didn't really fit in as I wasn't one of the "team". I think people thought I was a bit of a snob or just very boring I had a small group of friends but, and I apologise to them now, I was an elusive friend, drifting in and out of their lives, never really making any firm commitments to them. Now, I don't want those that knew me to feel like I'm disrespecting them in some way, because I know that those people cared about me, it's more of a failure on my part to be a good friend.
The decision to move away from Leeds wasn't really a heart wrenching one. Whilst I would miss teaching my classes at Virgin and my regular indulgences in the M&S food hall, both me and Rick were ready for a change, especially with two little tiddlers on the way. We were living in a 2 bed terrace adjacent to a main road, with no garden, not the most ideal place to live with children. No, now we needed a house with a garden, preferably in a quiet and safe road - it was time to be ouch, dare I say it...sensible
So on a very cold and icy week in December 2010, we moved to a lovely house in Shropshire. For a few months I had withdrawal symptoms from living in the city. Whitchurch is a sleepy little town in what some would term "out in the sticks" Tractors are more common place than cars and an Indian is considered as posh food.
In Leeds, I was indulged with a choice of shops, restaurants, cinemas, bars, even museums.When I first hit Whitchurch town centre it felt like a step back in to the 1980's. It has that battered and bruised feeling of many town centres around the country due to the influx of giant supermarkets and retail parks on the outskirts. How was I ever going to survive, I thought!!!!
My saving grace were my kids, it was through them that I have learnt to love this town and all the many people I have met that live here.
Yes, I have become part of the mummy brigade, most of my friends are mums. OK, the children do factor highly in our conversations, but who else is going to understand when you feel like shit because you've been up since 4am, or are get as excited when your child does their first poo in a potty. But as a parent that support is crucial in surviving the sometimes exasperating parts of being a parent.
Being in a small place allows you to slow down and make more time for people, there is a need to be connected and after many years of feeling adrift I finally feel part of something again.
You know in my last blog post I mentioned that I was grieving for that little girl I once was? I honestly feel like I have been given a second chance to live again, I'm beginning to feel like I'm getting that sparkle back, there's a warmth and energy that is climbing up from my soul and starting to radiate through my skin.
As dramatic as it sounds, it's like my cold heart has been melted, fro many years, being a friend was a chore to me, something that didn't come easy. Now, being a friend means so much to me, having people to turn to is as important as breathing.
To those of my dear friends past and present, I owe you so much...........
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
― C.S. Lewis
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
It's been a while
OK, so it's been a very loooooooooooong time since I wrote my lost post, almost six months to be precise
I guess it was a combination of laziness, motherhood and brain freeze. Although saying that, I've actually felt like my head would actually explode with the amount of activity that has been going on inside.
It's been a bit of a funny time, I've been in a bit of a dark place. I think I was looking over the garden fence and seeing a greener grass and rosy garden, whilst mine seemed withered and barren....yes it's a jolly post today!!
As some of you have read in my previous posts, I've not adapted as easily as some to the role of motherhood, it's been both a mental and physical challenge. I won't regurgitate past blog posts as I don't want to bore those who have already read about my battles with eating disorders, but in a nutshell becoming a mum to twins = change body + change in lifestyle and routine = major struggle. Then add to the pot a feeling of failure having never really achieved a stable career status. Things just reached boiling point for me towards the end of 2012.
I had tried and succeeded in getting a job, but it involved getting up at 4am and then coming home back to a full day with the kids. I didn't make it easy for myself as I'm a night bird and don't go to sleep until late. But even so, the people that I worked with were either very young or reasonably older than myself. It got to the point where I had nor energy for the kids and the thought of having to do stuff with them made me want to curl up in a ball and hide. So ashamedly, I only lasted 3 months in the job and thoughts of a new career were pushed right to the furthest part of the cupboard where the cobwebs dwell.
With that came a black cloud, in which my brain would just not switch off in terms of negative thoughts and I was constantly giving myself a mental beating. Was life ever going to be different for me again? Was there more to life than this - my role as mother. Who was I, what was I put here for?, would I ever DO something of merit?? God, perhaps I should've joined the religious cult Opus Dei and flogged myself!!
When I was a kid, I had what my grandma would say "a lot of chutzpa", No mountain was to high and no walls were going to stop me. As much as my dad will loathe me to say this but I thought I was going to be the next Maggie Thatcher- not really in politics, but in what ever it was I chose to do - yes choose, because I had so many things I wanted to do. Even now, as I type, I have visions of this child with a sparkle in her eye and a fire in her belly - eager to get out and make her mark on the world. That light got blown out when I developed Anorexia. It's actually bizarre to think about really, I was so desperate as a child to conquer the world, but in hind sight I became anorexic as I was so frightened of becoming a woman. A paradox of sorts really.
For years my whole life became entangled in a web of food and exercise, disabling me from reaching the great heights that I expected. I wasn't able to function as rational or "normal" person. And, in some ways I'm still experiencing some similar obstacles.
So much so, I decided a month or so ago to try counselling again. I've had counselling on a couple of occasions as a teen but didn't really appreciate or want it - it was more a case of being pushed into it, but this time I made the decision. I wanted to be able to use my brain for something other than negative thoughts and worrying about getting fat.
I love writing and my ambition is to write two books that I have the ideas for. I also want to continue with my mums recipe book blog, which means a lot to me. But, right now my head is so full of junk that it's hard to concentrate on these things.
It's been over a month now and I've made inroads, I've realised that I am grieving for this little girl that once was. When someone dies, you seem to put them on a pedestal and erase all the flaws. They become like a ghost, haunting you and making it hard to move on. What I have to do now is find some way to move away from the past and focus on the present and the future without believing that my glass is always going to be half empty.
I've also become aware that whilst there might have been people and decisions that have effected my life in some way, these should not be dwelt on or used as an excuse for where I am now and how I feel. The only person that is control of my life. There are only so many factors you can blame before you have to look at yourself and realise that it is only you that can change and only you that can choose the right path.
I guess it was a combination of laziness, motherhood and brain freeze. Although saying that, I've actually felt like my head would actually explode with the amount of activity that has been going on inside.
It's been a bit of a funny time, I've been in a bit of a dark place. I think I was looking over the garden fence and seeing a greener grass and rosy garden, whilst mine seemed withered and barren....yes it's a jolly post today!!
As some of you have read in my previous posts, I've not adapted as easily as some to the role of motherhood, it's been both a mental and physical challenge. I won't regurgitate past blog posts as I don't want to bore those who have already read about my battles with eating disorders, but in a nutshell becoming a mum to twins = change body + change in lifestyle and routine = major struggle. Then add to the pot a feeling of failure having never really achieved a stable career status. Things just reached boiling point for me towards the end of 2012.
I had tried and succeeded in getting a job, but it involved getting up at 4am and then coming home back to a full day with the kids. I didn't make it easy for myself as I'm a night bird and don't go to sleep until late. But even so, the people that I worked with were either very young or reasonably older than myself. It got to the point where I had nor energy for the kids and the thought of having to do stuff with them made me want to curl up in a ball and hide. So ashamedly, I only lasted 3 months in the job and thoughts of a new career were pushed right to the furthest part of the cupboard where the cobwebs dwell.
With that came a black cloud, in which my brain would just not switch off in terms of negative thoughts and I was constantly giving myself a mental beating. Was life ever going to be different for me again? Was there more to life than this - my role as mother. Who was I, what was I put here for?, would I ever DO something of merit?? God, perhaps I should've joined the religious cult Opus Dei and flogged myself!!
When I was a kid, I had what my grandma would say "a lot of chutzpa", No mountain was to high and no walls were going to stop me. As much as my dad will loathe me to say this but I thought I was going to be the next Maggie Thatcher- not really in politics, but in what ever it was I chose to do - yes choose, because I had so many things I wanted to do. Even now, as I type, I have visions of this child with a sparkle in her eye and a fire in her belly - eager to get out and make her mark on the world. That light got blown out when I developed Anorexia. It's actually bizarre to think about really, I was so desperate as a child to conquer the world, but in hind sight I became anorexic as I was so frightened of becoming a woman. A paradox of sorts really.
For years my whole life became entangled in a web of food and exercise, disabling me from reaching the great heights that I expected. I wasn't able to function as rational or "normal" person. And, in some ways I'm still experiencing some similar obstacles.
So much so, I decided a month or so ago to try counselling again. I've had counselling on a couple of occasions as a teen but didn't really appreciate or want it - it was more a case of being pushed into it, but this time I made the decision. I wanted to be able to use my brain for something other than negative thoughts and worrying about getting fat.
I love writing and my ambition is to write two books that I have the ideas for. I also want to continue with my mums recipe book blog, which means a lot to me. But, right now my head is so full of junk that it's hard to concentrate on these things.
It's been over a month now and I've made inroads, I've realised that I am grieving for this little girl that once was. When someone dies, you seem to put them on a pedestal and erase all the flaws. They become like a ghost, haunting you and making it hard to move on. What I have to do now is find some way to move away from the past and focus on the present and the future without believing that my glass is always going to be half empty.
I've also become aware that whilst there might have been people and decisions that have effected my life in some way, these should not be dwelt on or used as an excuse for where I am now and how I feel. The only person that is control of my life. There are only so many factors you can blame before you have to look at yourself and realise that it is only you that can change and only you that can choose the right path.
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
Virgin trains can use my tracks Mr Branson
I've gone and done it, the train tracks are on and even though you see me smile I have to say it's slightly forced.
Yes, I know I'm old and silly enough to make my own decisions, I have no parents to blame for enforcing me to go ahead with such drastic action to fix my wonky teeth, but I still can't help repeating the mantra "why oh why oh why oh why" in my head.
The past few days have been nothing short of nightmare, I feel like the makers of the Saw movie franchise have created a part just for me in SAW VII - Brutal Braces.
It's tag line would read - The Braces aren't there to fix her teeth, they're there to rip her mouth to shreds!!!!!!
I don't think there has been a day, hour or minute in the last few days where Rick has not heard me moan, bitch and whine like - well a person who has just had a big hunk of sharp metal put in their mouth
There is however, one possible highlight, I think I have lost a few pounds due to the fact that I have only been able to drink soups and smoothies for 5days, even my two year old twins have been eating more textured food than me. It is only today that I can finally bring my teeth together without feeling like they are about to explode. I long to be able to chew on a piece of chicken or even eat a sandwich, but that is still days away yet, although I'm still of the impression it might even be months.
If there's a lesson learnt here, it is, even if the dentist shouts at you for not brushing properly, never leave it 12 years before you return to the dentist!
Friday, 14 September 2012
News just in...I have a JOB interview!!!!!!!
News just in...I have a JOB interview!!!!!!!
OK, don't get too excited it's just a part time job at Sainsbury's - working on either fish / bakery or deli..BUT... I actually want to do it. To me working in a supermarket is the equivalent to a fashion student getting their first job sweeping up factory odds and ends for Stella McCartney.
As I mentioned in my previous post, I love being around food - talking about it, looking at it, reading about it and eating it. In particular, I am interested in finding out about new products and also the trends in consumer sales and choices. So working in an environment that enables me embrace my passion is surely not a bad thing.
There is also the fact that this could lead to a variety of opportunities either within Sainsbury's of the food retail industry. I have often mentioned to Rick that I would love to become a food buyer. I would take great delight in deciding what I think people would try and also buy. I know that there is much more to it than that, but thought of discovering a product that could set the market on fire gets me more excited than reading the middle of 50 Shades of Grey!
Now, I do love Sainsbury's, I shop there every week (the twins are very well known for their, how can I put it - rambunctiousness throughout the store. I think they probably have the twins photo up in staff room saying BEWARE). However, in an enchanted world, I would love to eventually end up working in a top class food hall. I have actually thought about contacting the food halls of Harrods, Fortnum and Mason, Wholefoods or Selfridges to see if I could do some work experience with their food buying team, but would they want to take on a 34 year old with no experience.
See, there's a couple of issues, no training/experience and I'm no spring chicken. Will people really want to take a risk on me? The argument for it is that being 34 I've got a lot out of my system and I'm settled down. At 34, there is less chance of me flipping and flapping through careers, I don't really have the time or energy for that. With age comes a different kind of experience, alongside the eagerness comes a little bit more sense and sensibility, affording you a little more confidence and assurance in the work that you carry out. I think you tend to handle things differently, maybe more logically as the eagerness comes with a little hesitation rather than a two footed leap that many young people take.
Of course, I may not even get this job at Sainsbury, I just might not be what they are looking for. Should I be dumbing myself down? I'm hoping that the interviewer would be encouraged by my ambition, drive and see the potential in me for future opportunities, rather than be put off. But I'm still a bit unsure how to approach the interview situation.
When I found out I'd got the interview, I honestly felt for the first time in a long time that I could feel the blood coursing through my veins and the colour coming back into my cheeks. I guess it's given me a bit of fire in the belly and unlocked a part of my brain that I thought I'd lost the key to. I've realised there is so much that I can do and want to do, but I may just need to reign things in a little and learn to channel this new wave of enthusiasm towards something fruitful and productive.
OK, don't get too excited it's just a part time job at Sainsbury's - working on either fish / bakery or deli..BUT... I actually want to do it. To me working in a supermarket is the equivalent to a fashion student getting their first job sweeping up factory odds and ends for Stella McCartney.
As I mentioned in my previous post, I love being around food - talking about it, looking at it, reading about it and eating it. In particular, I am interested in finding out about new products and also the trends in consumer sales and choices. So working in an environment that enables me embrace my passion is surely not a bad thing.
There is also the fact that this could lead to a variety of opportunities either within Sainsbury's of the food retail industry. I have often mentioned to Rick that I would love to become a food buyer. I would take great delight in deciding what I think people would try and also buy. I know that there is much more to it than that, but thought of discovering a product that could set the market on fire gets me more excited than reading the middle of 50 Shades of Grey!
Now, I do love Sainsbury's, I shop there every week (the twins are very well known for their, how can I put it - rambunctiousness throughout the store. I think they probably have the twins photo up in staff room saying BEWARE). However, in an enchanted world, I would love to eventually end up working in a top class food hall. I have actually thought about contacting the food halls of Harrods, Fortnum and Mason, Wholefoods or Selfridges to see if I could do some work experience with their food buying team, but would they want to take on a 34 year old with no experience.
See, there's a couple of issues, no training/experience and I'm no spring chicken. Will people really want to take a risk on me? The argument for it is that being 34 I've got a lot out of my system and I'm settled down. At 34, there is less chance of me flipping and flapping through careers, I don't really have the time or energy for that. With age comes a different kind of experience, alongside the eagerness comes a little bit more sense and sensibility, affording you a little more confidence and assurance in the work that you carry out. I think you tend to handle things differently, maybe more logically as the eagerness comes with a little hesitation rather than a two footed leap that many young people take.
Of course, I may not even get this job at Sainsbury, I just might not be what they are looking for. Should I be dumbing myself down? I'm hoping that the interviewer would be encouraged by my ambition, drive and see the potential in me for future opportunities, rather than be put off. But I'm still a bit unsure how to approach the interview situation.
When I found out I'd got the interview, I honestly felt for the first time in a long time that I could feel the blood coursing through my veins and the colour coming back into my cheeks. I guess it's given me a bit of fire in the belly and unlocked a part of my brain that I thought I'd lost the key to. I've realised there is so much that I can do and want to do, but I may just need to reign things in a little and learn to channel this new wave of enthusiasm towards something fruitful and productive.
Monday, 10 September 2012
The Ludlow Food Festival
So we hit the Ludlow Food Festival at the weekend, it's one of the biggest and most prestigious in the country, so I was extremely excited about going.
You would think with my long history of eating disorders that I would run a mile from anything like this and being surrounded by food for a whole day would bring me out in a cold sweat. Well no you'd be wrong, it's the complete opposite. I love food, I love talking about it, reading about it, cooking at and YES actually EATING it.
The visit to Ludlow had been possibly the most eagerly awaited event of 2012 for me, way over the Olympics and the start of the news series of The Great British Bake Off!! In fact, I felt like a kid at Christmas the night before we went, waking up at 6am and being thoroughly disappointed that it was not yet really time to get up and that we wouldn't be heading off to Ludlow for at least another 4hrs.
Lat year was the first year that we went and that time we took the twins with us - BIG mistake, apart from the fact we were still on scheduled eating patterns and nap times, we had a huge pram and prams big or small are never crowd friendly. We also did a park and ride which meant collapsing and re-opening the pram along with all the things that we had put in the little compartment underneath the front seat.
Most of the day was spent sat down either feeding, comforting crying babies, changing nappies and arguing about who was going to be able to eat first, look around or get a drink!
So this year we left the kids at home with Ricks parents, yes, it was also a WHOLE child-free day. Now you all know I love Beau and Olivia dearly, but it's always a relief not to have to be part of the same daily routine - plus I know that they absolutely adore their Grandma and Grandad (mainly because they let them run amok)
We arrived in Ludlow at 12pm and parked just outside the town, which allowed us to take in the sites of this quaint and quirky medieval little town. The buildings have been well looked after and you can really imagine what it would've been like way back in times before cars, Tesco Expresses and alchopops.
The vein on Ricks throat was already beginning to pulsate and I had to distract him by reminding him that not only did this festival celebrate food, a majority of it was also dedicated to beer, cider and ale. I even offered to drive home - in effect encouraging him to get drunk so that both of us would be able to relax for he day.
The festival is spread throughout the town but the main event takes place at the castle, it's a ruin really but has enough walls and space to play host to the 20,000 odd foodies that pass through it's wrought iron gates throuought the whole weekend.
Surprisingly, I was quite tame in terms of purchasing and only ended up buying a few things - a majority if not all, of the sweet nature, all of which were consumed either that night or over the next couple of days.
You would think with my long history of eating disorders that I would run a mile from anything like this and being surrounded by food for a whole day would bring me out in a cold sweat. Well no you'd be wrong, it's the complete opposite. I love food, I love talking about it, reading about it, cooking at and YES actually EATING it.
The visit to Ludlow had been possibly the most eagerly awaited event of 2012 for me, way over the Olympics and the start of the news series of The Great British Bake Off!! In fact, I felt like a kid at Christmas the night before we went, waking up at 6am and being thoroughly disappointed that it was not yet really time to get up and that we wouldn't be heading off to Ludlow for at least another 4hrs.
Lat year was the first year that we went and that time we took the twins with us - BIG mistake, apart from the fact we were still on scheduled eating patterns and nap times, we had a huge pram and prams big or small are never crowd friendly. We also did a park and ride which meant collapsing and re-opening the pram along with all the things that we had put in the little compartment underneath the front seat.
Most of the day was spent sat down either feeding, comforting crying babies, changing nappies and arguing about who was going to be able to eat first, look around or get a drink!
So this year we left the kids at home with Ricks parents, yes, it was also a WHOLE child-free day. Now you all know I love Beau and Olivia dearly, but it's always a relief not to have to be part of the same daily routine - plus I know that they absolutely adore their Grandma and Grandad (mainly because they let them run amok)
We arrived in Ludlow at 12pm and parked just outside the town, which allowed us to take in the sites of this quaint and quirky medieval little town. The buildings have been well looked after and you can really imagine what it would've been like way back in times before cars, Tesco Expresses and alchopops.
If you live or work in Ludlow, it's a time of year you either enjoy or despise - much like people in Rome when the pope pops out to say hello. As soon we hit the streets of Ludlow, the crowds became vast, hundreds of people were milling about or following sausage and Ale trails set up by the festival, there were queues about 30 people deep all waiting for half a sausage.
The vein on Ricks throat was already beginning to pulsate and I had to distract him by reminding him that not only did this festival celebrate food, a majority of it was also dedicated to beer, cider and ale. I even offered to drive home - in effect encouraging him to get drunk so that both of us would be able to relax for he day.
The festival is spread throughout the town but the main event takes place at the castle, it's a ruin really but has enough walls and space to play host to the 20,000 odd foodies that pass through it's wrought iron gates throuought the whole weekend.
For me, walking up to the entrance was like a hallelujah moment, I felt like I was walking through the pearly gates and my idea of heaven was waiting for me on the inside. If heaven holds constant food festivals then Lord I'm not afraid to die! (no offence to loved ones)
I purposefully hadn't eaten breakfast as I knew that there would be a lot of tasting on the agenda and I didn't want to spoil my appetite, so the first thing we did was head to the main tent which housed of 100 different stalls with all desperately trying to get your attention (well some more than others) using the offers of free tasters. My dad, who has a reputation within our family of ruthlessly trying to get money off things or for free would have been in his element as samples were coming thick and fast, you could definitely have made a meal from all the little bits and pieces that you were given. I sort of felt sorry for those trying to sell things as most people (including myself) had no intention of buying most things, we just savoured the taste more because it was free.
How ever, I do take a very keen interest in finding out about artisan products and food that has been made locally or by small producers. There are so many exciting and innovative ideas out there that never make it to the shelves on supermarkets as most people can't afford the production costs or achieve the amount required for mass production.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland, I had seen the things that had said 'EAT ME' and 'DRINK ME' and from that point it was adventure of fascinating, imagery, colours, sounds and colourful characters.
It was maybe a little overwhelming, every sensory organ is under fire, so many things to smell, see, taste and also you have a lot of people talking to you trying to convince you to spend £5 on a box of Granola or small bar of chocolate (small production means higher prices I guess. I sometimes found myself in a little bit of a daze, feeling like I had stopped still whilst everything was on triple speed all around me. My mind was trying to keep up with my eyes and ears and mouth and I think when you have sensory overload your mind goes into shut down.
I do have to say, it wasn't a horrible feeling, in fact, it was more like a buzz, a high. For the first time in a long time I was actually enjoying myself, to the point of giddiness. I think it was just that although I knew we had the whole day but I was afraid we would not be able to get it all in.
We took some time out from the tasting of food and the jostling crowds and settled in a couple of seats at the Graeme Kidd stage to watch one of the UK's top chefs, Alan Murchinson (He's the ginger Scottish chef who appeared on Great British Food Menu and came across a little brash and cocky but never got any of his dishes on the menu
He was actually quite funny and amazing to watch. He created simple dishes with Goats Cheese as the key ingredient, but he managed to make them look absolutely stunning. He spoilt it a little bit though with his shameless plug for his new book.
The only disappointing part of the day was when we went in search of the pudding tasting hall, only to be told as we approached that all the puddings had gone and it was now closed for the day. Rick said it looked like I would cry and he saw a tremble of my bottom lip, might even have been a pout. If I had been 30 years younger there might've been a full blown tantrum!
As you can see from the smile on my face, it was a great day and one that will be the highlight of 2012 for me
Surprisingly, I was quite tame in terms of purchasing and only ended up buying a few things - a majority if not all, of the sweet nature, all of which were consumed either that night or over the next couple of days.
Friday, 31 August 2012
oh for the love...
This week I feel like I've spent much of the time shouting or snapping at the kids. There were genuine reasons I hasten to add and here is the evidence...
To top it all off, Beau has ended up with a tummy bug over the past couple of days, so I have been up to my ears in puke and poo.
Today was probably the worst and boiling point was bubbling over profusely. First came that primal roar sound that you make when you don't know what else to say when angry. Then it was the walk away and then finally came the collapse on the floor followed by the tears - yes, I'm talking about me and not the kids.
They had literally driven me to the point of despair
But why then do I feel so bad about it all?
Maybe it's the fear of being rejected by my kids. I fear that when I shout or show my frustration the love-o-meter go's down. But deep down I know that's not rational, I'm sure my mum shouted at me when I was a toddler (a lot when I was a teenager!!) but I still loved her immensely.
It makes me think of all those children out there who suffer at the hands of an adult and I cannot imagine how anyone can not feel guilt when they cause distress of a child.
When I look into their eyes though I see their vulnerability and know that they see me and Rick as their vital support system, so if I become this shouty snappy mum then how can they feel safe. I do have a short temper and I can get myself into a right old lather but I never want my kids to be afraid of me.
I know it's part of being a parent and you can't always be the good cop, I think I just feel sometimes that I myself am a child playing at being a mum and when we played at being mums and dads as children it was only ever the nice and fun stuff you did - equally, I don't remember the person that played the child in our game having screaming fits, rejecting the food mummy cooked or projectile vomiting all over floor!
- Olivia throwing food at me and then over the floor
- Beau refusing to keep still whilst changing an incredibly stinky nappy
- Both refusing to eat anything for lunch except cake
- Olivia poking me in the face with a plastic fork
- Both taking things out of the shopping trolley and trying to open packets and bags
- Both screaming for a (third) bag of crisps as I tried to make my way around the supermarket
- Beau pouring his drink all over Olivia in the shopping trolley
- Olivia screaming at the top of her lungs because Beau poured drink over her in shopping trolley
- Beau refusing to eat his tea wanting only toast which Olivia then went on to continuously steal until I had to make some more only for it to be chucked on the floor and splashed across ceilings, walls, floors, chairs and me.
- Both of them pretty much ignoring any thing I had to say!
To top it all off, Beau has ended up with a tummy bug over the past couple of days, so I have been up to my ears in puke and poo.
Today was probably the worst and boiling point was bubbling over profusely. First came that primal roar sound that you make when you don't know what else to say when angry. Then it was the walk away and then finally came the collapse on the floor followed by the tears - yes, I'm talking about me and not the kids.
They had literally driven me to the point of despair
But why then do I feel so bad about it all?
Maybe it's the fear of being rejected by my kids. I fear that when I shout or show my frustration the love-o-meter go's down. But deep down I know that's not rational, I'm sure my mum shouted at me when I was a toddler (a lot when I was a teenager!!) but I still loved her immensely.
It makes me think of all those children out there who suffer at the hands of an adult and I cannot imagine how anyone can not feel guilt when they cause distress of a child.
When I look into their eyes though I see their vulnerability and know that they see me and Rick as their vital support system, so if I become this shouty snappy mum then how can they feel safe. I do have a short temper and I can get myself into a right old lather but I never want my kids to be afraid of me.
I know it's part of being a parent and you can't always be the good cop, I think I just feel sometimes that I myself am a child playing at being a mum and when we played at being mums and dads as children it was only ever the nice and fun stuff you did - equally, I don't remember the person that played the child in our game having screaming fits, rejecting the food mummy cooked or projectile vomiting all over floor!
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