16 Jul 2023
A Mini European Road Trip With A Toddler: Lille, France; The Netherlands & Bruges, Belgium
Leg 1: Home > Folkestone, Kent
Leg 2: Folkestone > Lille, France
Leg 3: Lille > The Netherlands
Leg 4: The Netherlands > Bruges, Belgium
Leg 5: Bruges > Home
Our final leg was the longest and therefore the one we were
least looking forward to. We purposefully tried to keep Alfie awake during the
drive from Bruges to Calais which was successful but then we were delayed at
Calais and ended up too far on the other side i.e. dealing with a toddler who
is past the point of sleep but very overtired. Let me tell ya: this combined
with being confined to a car in a queue is not the one. By the time we
were back in England, things had escalated and we had our first proper
experience of being the people with a small child screaming the place down in a
service station just outside Folkstone. Half empty service stations really echo,
don’t they? I re-used the old cheesy puff tactic to get him back into his car
seat which worked, only he realised five minutes later that he had been tricked
and was FUMING. Honestly, in the end – out of sheer desperation – I searched
YouTube for ‘get my baby to sleep’ videos, found some trippy shit that involved
floating sheep and whether by luck or judgement, it worked and the bugger that
is my firstborn fell asleep and I could finally bang my head against the window
in peace.
And that’s a great note to end on don’t ya think?
30 Jun 2023
A Summer Wishlist
I wrote this in mid-May when I was still wearing cardigans and hugging hot drinks. Spring just didn’t really show up in the end, eh? And then suddenly we were plunged from winter into proper summer, heat and pure blue skies. Somewhat surprisingly for me, I’ve been really enjoying it. I famously do not like high temperatures and I find that the hotter months heighten my anxiety around the climate crisis, but the long overdue vitamin D and the roses popping in my garden and Alfie loving being outside has had me feeling really quite cheerful. Also, very importantly, the temperatures are still dropping at night which I personally think is the difference between a heatwave being bearable or not (and therefore the difference in whether I behave like a grumpy gremlin or not). It’s reminding me of the summers of my childhood.
Anyway, I wrote this list to try and get the most out of the summer despite the temps and climate anxiety:
Swim in a lido – I’ve had a craving to go swimming in a lido since midwinter. Not sure where it came from, perhaps because I love swimming but barely do it, perhaps because there is something so uniquely special about swimming outside and I would love to do more of it. Either way, I’d really love to take a visit to our nearest lido this summer.
Take Alfie swimming – and on a similar note, we feel like he’s hit an age now where he will be interested in (and we think enjoy given how much he seems to like playing with water) swimming, so we are keen to take him again in the near future.
Being outside with Alfie as much as possible – I tell you, there is nothing more joyous then watching a toddler discover some of the simplest joys of the summer for the very first time. He keeps running to the back door, wanting to get out into the garden so he can charge about barefoot, throwing balls around. When we were on holiday, his biggest joy was playing with a couple of sticks he found in the garden. I could watch him do it all summer.
Visit my sister – this is well overdue but I’m really looking forward to finally visiting my sister’s flat in London. Now that she’s newly engaged, this is going to be even more fun because it’s going to give us the opportunity to have a nose around her wedding venue.
Eat in Plants restaurant – visiting the Deliciously Ella Plants restaurant in London is right at the top of my bucket list at the moment. I love her app and am low-key obsessed with the Plants Waitrose range so I would love to visit the restaurant. Whether budget and time allow this summer, I’m not sure, but I’m hopefully throwing it on the list anyway.
Have a night away just the two of us – a girl can dream. Breastfeeding (18 months and counting) and Alfie’s terrible sleep has meant that this hasn’t yet felt possible for us, but we are really hoping that the time is upon us. We have paid our dues guys, manifest this for us please.
Have a trip to the seaside – because if you didn’t dip your toes in the sea and spend several weeks afterwards finding sand in your shoes, did summer even happen?
Have friends to stay – really looking forward to having two of my oldest friends to stay and having a well overdue catch-up.
Go for a date night at The Old Hall – my parents very generously gifted Gary a voucher for The Old Hall for his birthday and so we are planning a date night here very soon. The Old Hall is a gorgeous wedding venue/dining experience just outside of Ely and it is such a treat to go and eat there. We’ve been for dinner and Sunday lunch before and both times were such lovely and memorable experiences. We are excited to go again, and it feels even more of a treat to not have to spend anything.
Other date nights – we’re still trying to stick to at least one date a month and other ideas for the summer include: afternoon tea at Fitzbillies in Cambridge; my friend Dan generously gifted us a voucher so we’re keen to go eat mini sandwiches and silly cakes on a summer’s afternoon, dinner and cocktails at The Yard in Ely which has become one of my favourite places since it opened in March, plus we want to pay a visit to Six in Cambridge during the warmer months because how good does that roof terrace look?!
Enjoy the little things synonymous with summer – ice creams by the river, G&Ts in the garden, colourful summer dresses, eating dinner outside as much as possible, simple weekend BBQs, picnics, playing in the garden with Alfie, sunkissed skin, summer weddings, the garden looking beautiful and colourful, summer cooking, big sunglasses, painted toenails, that summer-evening-golden-hour glow.
Hope you are enjoying the summer dear reader, tell me, what do you have planned for July & August?
One Minute Book Reviews: What I've Been Reading This Spring
25 May 2023
Lunch In Coal Drops Yard, London: Favourite Baby Friendly Spots
The thing that surprised me the most – just how baby-friendly it was. In many ways, I am preferring this new toddler phase but I have to admit, a massive perk of the early months is just how portable those little ones are and how they stay where you put them. It actually makes dining out with them pretty easy, once you’re over the initial reservations about having to deal with nappy changes and whacking your boob out in public. I’m really glad I did manage to embrace this as much as finances allowed. Here’s some of my favourite discoveries (and I’m sure there are many more still to discover):
Boy, do I love Dishoom. Love. But it was a bit of a slow burner for me; the first couple of times I went, I disliked how long the queues were and felt like I hadn’t made the most of the menu. What I’ve learned is to visit on weekdays or less-common eating times, ask the waiter for recommendations and pick things slightly at random because everything is delicious. Also, the chai is bottomless and you must make the most of that. Oh and the rice pudding is sublime. And it’s a great place for vegans. I’ll stop now. My main point is, when I rocked up with a buggy and a four-month-old to have lunch with my friend, they didn’t bat an eyelid. Moved us to a more spacious (step-free) table, were efficient getting us the bill when Alfie started to get restless etc. Bonus point – the décor and smells make for pretty decent baby sensory.
A great one for the summer – these guys do really good takeaway sandwiches. Any sandwich made with focaccia elevates it to a new level in my opinion. Take a blanket and let baby roll about or go sit by the fountains in Granary Square and let the water entertain them. Either way it’s a cute summer scene and you have a very nice sandwich.
When I first walked into Caravan, I did have a slight fear that I might be pushing my luck. The warehouse-type vibe with long, shared tables did make me wonder if this was really going to work with a seven-month-old. But again, nobody batted an eyelid. The waitress seated us at the end of the table, produced a highchair without asking and spent most of the time cooing over Alfie (she loved him so much, we got a small discount). The menu is inspired by the founders’ travels so there is all sorts on there; can confirm that the sourdough pizza is very good.
18 Apr 2023
That First Trip To A&E
Unfortunately, we’re not leaving the house in the middle of the night to catch a flight or drive a long distance. We’re leaving the house after being sprayed with vomit, seeing ‘40.5’ flash up on our thermometer and a call with NHS 111.
The inaugural trip to A&E. Weather-worn parents had warned us it would come but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. We don’t actually know we’re going to A&E yet, at the moment we’re heading to an out-of-hours GP appointment which will result in a referral to paediatric A&E. I’m sat in the backseat, holding my son’s hand. He has immediately gone back to sleep with a slight huff, like this is all incredibly inconvenient for him. I am not panicking; I have a gut instinct that whatever is wrong with him is not one of the Big Scary Ones. I actually have this strange sensation that I’m going to look back on this almost fondly one day. Not him being ill or driving to hospital in the middle of the night on less than three hours sleep, but that feeling that he needs us, that feel of him cuddled into my chest, the sensation that – whilst very worrying – we as his parents can try and solve the problem.
Addenbrookes is an enormous hospital and trying to figure out where the hell you need to go amongst all the dark buildings in the middle of the night does feel a little like the start of a crime drama. We being the unlucky victims that don’t survive the opening credits of course. My son is awake, wrapped in a blanket and looking around in a bemused fashion. If he could form the words, I’m pretty sure he’d say: ‘what the hell is going on?’. As it happens the only words he currently can say are ‘oh dear’ which feels pretty apt.
We find the clinic and sit in a jarringly-brightly-lit waiting area. We are the only ones there and I am forcibly reminded of the last time we were in this scenario, in the same hospital, only I was on my knees, making mooing noises and forty-five minutes away from delivering a baby, and my husband was frantically trying to find someone to let us into the maternity unit. Not as bad as that, I think. We are seen by the GP only twenty-five minutes after our appointment time – I was expecting longer – and we answer the questions we have already answered three times to various people over the phone. She gives him a thorough and kind assessment and decides that his raised heartrate and the way his belly sucks under his ribs as he breathes is enough to have him reviewed by the paediatric registrar.
Paediatric A&E is right next to the usual A&E, only it’s a small, grey door and doesn’t have the shining red sign. It is also locked. So, we have to brave normal A&E which is busy but silent and is the first time I have the thought I would really like to be somewhere else now. A&E – at least from the perspective of the patients – must be one of the most depressing places in the country and I feet for the weary-looking woman in blue scrubs who heads towards us, automatically pulling out the red priority wrist band as she does so. She sends us back out to the security guard who can let us through the grey door, and he is the one who warns us it is unlikely they will let both parents in.
I get the reasoning, I really do, but separating one parent from their sick child and leaving the other to cope alone is highly stressful for all involved. I am left alone with my sick toddler in one arm, overflowing bag in the other, trying to keep the blanket around him, trying to open doors and not drop his cup which he keeps desperately sucking water from. I am also trying to fish my phone out of my pocket so I can be ready to keep my husband updated as much as possible. I’m then asked to fill out a form which means contorting my spine in an unnatural position so as to bend down to the desk and not drop my child. Honestly, I’m amazed there aren’t more mothers in A&E with mum-back syndrome. Surely it must be a thing?
We’re shown to a bay, and I gratefully drop the bag and sink into the chair. My son, who tries to go back to sleep every time we stop, drapes himself across my front again and closes his eyes. I wrap my arms around him and wish I could do the same. I lean my head back and wonder when the last time I wore a facemask was. Surreal to think it used to be all the time. I’d forgotten how easily they make your glasses steam up.
We are reviewed by a nurse, then by a paediatric registrar. My son screams loud enough to wake up half of Cambridge whilst being gently fed ibuprofen but doesn’t bat an eyelid when something is put in his ear. Go figure. I try and take in all the information – ear infection, inflamed throat, upper respiratory tract infection – but I know I’m going to forget details later. I know he is okay though. That I remember.
My husband and I text from different ends of the hospital with updates, dealing with practicalities (I’ve messaged my line manager, the shop is coming at 9, reckon your parents can go over and collect it) as well as the important details:
There is a mini shopping centre here… Costa, M&S, The Body Shop… Reckon I could sneak you in a pain au chocolat?
I snort and vow to go get a pastry the moment they tell us we can go. Which they do, surprisingly soon. And then I have antibiotics in my pocket and am looking at croissants in M&S as the sun rises over A&E.
My son’s fever breaks in the car on the way home, his silky hair messy with sweat, and my husband declares that he is quite happy to spend the rest of his life pottering about coffee shops. Which is mostly what we do these days. Exhausted parents, clinging onto the first sip of that hot drink, wondering when we stopped talking about exciting trips and started repeatedly talking about a small person’s bodily fluids.
But when you have a scare, when you spend the night in a hospital holding onto your sick child, you realise there is such privilege in the mundanity. In the hot drink that you can afford and the healthy child trying to eat other people’s crumbs off the floor. I’ll take that any day.
15 Mar 2023
One Minute Book Reviews: What I've Been Reading This Winter
The Food Almanac compiled by Miranda York - The perfect gentle book to start the year with. From various writers and artists, a beautiful collection of stories, recipes and illustrations for each month in the kitchen. It would be ideal to read each chapter at the beginning of each month of the year but after two years sat on my bookshelf with this intention (I kept forgetting), I decided to read it all in one go and it was lovely to do this in January and look forward to the year ahead. Essential reading if you are a foodie and love food writing. 4/5
Woman, Eating by Claire Kohda - A young vampire moves to London to live alone for the first time, and struggles to access the pig’s blood she needs, to reconcile the conflicts she feels about her diet, about her mixed-raced heritage, and her relationship with humans. I found this to be unsettling, claustrophobic, almost stream-of-consciousness and a unique take on millennial angst and the vampire genre. I once read a book reviewer describing a book as something they had ‘experienced rather than enjoyed’, and that’s a pretty accurate summary of this book for me. And yet I can’t deny that I have thought about this book a lot since reading. 3.5/5
Really Good, Actually by Monica Heisey - A year in the life of Maggie, aged 29, whose marriage has ended after just 608 days. This was both involuntary-snort-out-loud funny and desperately heartbreaking. An exploration of loneliness in the internet age, the long road to recovery after a traumatic event and the harsh realities of being single in a society that prizes relationships. Maggie’s character was so well written that I felt like I really knew her and the entire chapters given to google searches, lists and emails were comedy genius. 5/5
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin - I nearly didn’t buy into the hype of this one because I have no interest in gaming whatsoever but if you’re the same, I’m here to confirm that this book is absolutely worth your time. It tells the 20+ year saga of Sam and Sadie who meet in hospital as children and go on to become famous video game designers. There’s love, friendship, devastation, escapism and ultimately, the beauty of creativity. It’s an incredibly immersive book, just like the games themselves, and each character is beautifully human with strong flaws, but always with redemptive features too. Yes it broke my heart, but I loved it. 5/5
The Whalebone Theatre by Joanna Quinn - I admit, I’m pretty generous with book ratings. But then, I don’t understand this unwillingness to give a higher rating simply because you’ve read a lot of good books recently or you want to be deliberately harsh. If I’ve enjoyed a book, I’m all for shouting about it. Some books, however, do make me wish to rate that bit higher. To add an extra star; 6/5 so to speak. And this is definitely one of those books. The writing was truly gorgeous. Following the lives of three unconventional siblings, this expansive novel takes you from a crumbling house in Dorset to occupied France, from the purity of childhood summers to an early adulthood derailed by war. A family saga told over many years, a tale of friendship, courage and hope and some of the most vivid descriptions of war I have ever come across; to say I felt right at the heart of it would be an understatement. This novel already feels like a classic. 5/5
I Have Some Questions For You by Rebecca Makkai - Successful film professor and podcaster, Bodie Kane, returns to teach a course at the boarding school where she spent her unhappy high school years and where her former roommate was murdered. As she gets drawn into the botched police investigation, the internet theories suggesting the wrong man was convicted and her own resurfacing memories of the time, she begins to wonder if she knows more about the case than she initially realised. I read this in a bit of a frenzy because the mystery of who killed Thalia was incredibly absorbing. It kept me guessing right until the end and whilst the reader gets an answer, I liked the fact that it wasn’t a neatly tied up ending. No justice for an unfair world. I found this a clever book, well beyond the central who-dunnit plotline, particularly the social media and cancel culture sub-threads, the delve into the unreliability of collective memory and the questions surrounding the morality of true crime podcasts and social media detectives. 5/5
Happy reading folks x
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