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
20 Feb 2023
If we were having a coffee, I would tell you... #3
My mum always says that it is around my birthday (mid-February) that the weather starts to turn, Spring starts to tentatively say; hi, I’m on my way, hang on in there. The light changes, there are snowdrops popping up with an air of hope, there are more blue-sky days, I opt for a lighter coat. It feels lovely and hopeful to turn my face into the sun; the end of winter is here. Grab yourself a coffee/cuppa/hot choc, let’s catch up:
The start of the year… Oh it’s been a mixed few weeks. Gentle in many ways which is how the start of the year should be, but also hard work in so many others. Bereavement, one-year-jabs (brutal), stomach bugs, fevers, a general feeling of unsettledness that comes with a new routine and – as always – sleep deprivation. Will I ever sleep through the night again dear god. But we have made a lot of firm and tentative plans for the year ahead and I am so looking forward to it.
Back to work and writing routines… the biggest change at the start of this year has been returning to work. It’s been five weeks now, and we’re all starting to feel a bit more settled. It has been an adjustment for the little one and we’ve had to negotiate increased clinginess and more disrupted nights, but I think we’re getting there. It’s a disorientating feeling returning to work (particularly when working from home/part time) after a year away and yet, it does all start drifting back to you. I hoped life would feel more balanced by going back to work and it does. I’m enjoying the routine of work, of looking after Alfie and a precious afternoon a week to myself to write/do life admin. My current writing routine takes me to one of my favourite coffee shops where I sit by the open fire and bash out words on my little keyboard with the delicious feeling that there’s nowhere else I need to be, just for a couple of hours.
Good food, cute date… Two months in and so far, we’ve stuck to our commitment to have monthly dates throughout 2023. Nothing fancy but it’s amazing the difference a little child-free lunch date can make, particularly when there’s delicious sushi and katsu curry involved.
Excellent books & TV… That final season of Happy Valley! I am a little more selective about what TV to watch these days as I only want to use the time if it is really worth it, and I can confirm that I would quite happily watch several more hours of Sarah Lancashire grumpily marching around Calder Valley. In the book department, my aim to spend a lot more time reading is doing wonders for my mental health and I have read some absolutely crackin’ books in the last few weeks. I had a book hangover from Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow and I suspect I am going to have the same from my current read – The Whalebone Theatre (I’m two thirds of the way into this one so no spoilers please). Very different books but both brilliant.
31 years around the sun… Hadn’t quite processed being 30 yet but here we are! Naturally, it was the one day none of us were at home so OF COURSE it was also the one day the nursery called us saying Alfie had a temperature and needed picking up. Gary was in Kent, and I was on a train into London so you can imagine how well that went down. Even so, birthdays – if you’re lucky enough – have a way to make you feel very loved even if they don’t go to plan. It’s the little things for me: all your favourite people sending you a message, surprise flowers from a friend, cake on tap, a little candle in your dessert at the restaurant. I feel very lucky for the people in my life, even if my dismal WhatsApp response time must drive them mad (FOREVER SORRY).
Tell me, how’s the first couple of months of the year been for you?
P.S. Just a little reminder that I am now on Substack. You will find monthly short stories, titbits from the kitchen and other bits and bobs. February’s short story is going out soon and it would be really very nice if you subscribed. You can do so here.
31 Jan 2023
Goals/Hopes For 2023
I know it’s not for everyone, but I love the refresh of a new year. It gives me the push to tackle life admin and to organise the house which always make me feel revitalised and like I’m vaguely in control of my life. I like having goals/mindsets for the year ahead because they propel me forward and give some structure in my busy mind. It stops me from spending life feeling overwhelmed, ignoring everything and scrolling through Instagram for three hours. Works for me, but absolutely does not have to work for you. This may seem a little late to be setting goals for a new year, but as I said in this post, I think January should be a gradual warm up to the year, allowing ourselves the time to slowly emerge from the Christmas cocoon and figure out what we want from the year ahead.
So, 2023. When reflecting on recent years, two main thoughts come to mind. The first is that between a move to a new area, global pandemic, three lockdowns, pregnancy, childbirth, and the challenging, seismic shift that is the first year of parenting; it has been an intense 3+ years. The second is that in all of this – but in particular, the last 12 months – I have really neglected my physical and mental health.
With that in mind, I want my focus for 2023 to be wellbeing and fun. And you know what they say about FUN people? They write lists… right?
Here is what I’m hoping from this year:
Write regularly (and a new project for you to join)
In 2023, I want to nurture my love of writing again. My laptop and notebooks have been neglected for so long, there’s practically tumble weed drifting across them. When time is so limited, when my mental energy is being pulled in so many other directions; it would be so easy to let my love/need to write drift away. And I really, really don’t want to let that happen. I’m trying not to overthink it, trying to lean into the fun of it, trying to reclaim that feeling of writing when I was a child, without much thought of the finished product, just letting the words trip over themselves as they fall out. With that in mind, I’ve started a little project over on Substack should you wish to come join me. I’ve challenged myself to write a short story for every month of the year in 2023. I’ll have the month to write each one (and they will be set in that month) and then will publish at the end of the month. I’m hoping it will help me keep up a regular writing practice but without too much overthinking. There will also be titbits from the kitchen - love letters to food, cookbook recommendations, the adventures of an amateur baker – and other messy moments of life thrown in between; stuff that perhaps doesn’t fit here. If you’d like to join – you can sign up here. If it’s not for you, that’s cool too. This little online scrapbook will still be here.
Read plenty
I have normally shied away from the trend of setting reading goals because I have been an avid reader since the moment I could read so a) never really felt the need and b) felt a little like it might suck the joy out it. However, like everything in my life right now, this much-loved hobby needs a kick-up-the-arse and some prioritisation, particularly as it is one of the best things I can do for my mental health. I want to read at least 40 books this year, although I have a very loose aim of trying to read one book a week. I would also like to push myself to read a bit out of my comfort zone and stick, as much as possible, to supporting independent book shops (particularly my beloved local one!).
Monthly dates
Quality time as a couple was neglected in 2022 so we have made a commitment to, as a minimum, schedule monthly date days/nights. It has been a dawning realisation that having a child means if you don’t physically put quality time in the diary and organise childcare, it ain’t gonna happen.
Keep a daily journal
A private one, as opposed to this online one. Nothing particularly detailed, or emotion-heavy; I just want to take five minutes to jot down what happens each day. It is so easy to forget the day-to-day moments (particularly when sleep deprived) and I don’t want to forget all the little memories of Alfie’s childhood.
Keep baking
I don’t need a goal to bake more; if anything, some would argue I should bake less but we don’t listen to those people. Baking regularly will continue but I’d like to expand my skillset this year. It’s the year of the bread and the pastry. Top of my list are mastering sourdough, croissants and a really good focaccia.
Have as much fun as possible
It is an elusive thing, really, to say you want to have more fun but I think what that looks like for me is: an acceptance to go with the flow as much as possible when hanging out with Alfie, saying yes but also accepting when to say no (and not feel guilty/anxious) because something does not work in our current phase of life, scheduling time as a couple, time with friends, time with family, leaning into silliness, seeking out new things and unashamedly prioritising (and asking) for time to do things that make my soul feel warm and content (see above).
Prioritise my health
This is not some unrealistic claim that I’m going to go on a diet or run a marathon (yeah right) or give up cake (again, yeah right), more just a hope that I can stop living on survival mode when it comes to my wellbeing. It has been a year of brutal sleep deprivation and I have found it extremely challenging. The 12-month milestone brought a certain amount of despair (it has been a year and we’re still in this) but also acceptance (we can’t put our entire lives on hold until this child sleeps for longer than a couple of hours). I want my mental health to be in a better place (see the majority of the above) and to feel physically stronger and fitter in this unfamiliar post-pregnancy body. I’m still navigating this new version of who I am in all senses, but it would be nice to claim back a bit of my pre-motherhood self. Also, since Alfie started nursery in December this household has seen coughs & colds, hand, foot & mouth, covid and conjunctivitis. We need to ARM ourselves against the barrage of germs fighting their way over our threshold.
Travel
After the pandemic, pregnancy and maternity pay, the travel itch is desperate to be scratched. I’m also keen to figure out incorporating all our favourite things about travel into this new family life, as well as trying to keep our travel flight-free. We are currently in the beginning stages of planning a UK holiday in Somerset and a European road trip that involves seeing new cities and visiting our family in The Netherlands for the first time since pre-pandemic.
Hope January has been calm and cosy for you dear reader; do let me know what you’re looking forward to about the year ahead.
5 Jan 2023
New Year, Gentle Start
The second is that I fully endorse the new-year-same-you mentality and actively dislike any kind of pressure to suddenly better yourself, particularly when it comes to changing your body. But I also know that I do enjoy the new year as an opportunity to reset, reflect and plan ahead. My only real aim last year was to enjoy a gentle maternity leave which is absolutely what I needed to do but, as a result, I now have a real urge to shake myself out of a slumber as it were. Resetting, adjusting and making goals is absolutely needed for me this year. BUT…
And finally, my most important lesson: it is a fool’s errand to try and do a big new year reset on New Year’s Day. This is stupid. New Year’s Day is a bank holiday. The Christmas tree is still up, there are still leftovers lingering in the fridge, you still haven’t the foggiest what day it is. One of the best things I have started doing in recent years is beginning a new year gently. If you want to partake in the reset-adjust-make-goals mentality of new year, trying to switch from Christmas hibernation mode to GET EVERYTHING DONE mode overnight is just setting yourself up for failure. In my opinion, at least the first couple of weeks of January should be dedicated to gently sorting things out in a guilt free fashion. Spread out the tasks, think about what you might want to achieve or do with the year ahead whilst your hand meanders around the dregs of the remaining Quality Street, turn on some fairy lights and snuggle down in an evening because the weather is grey and the twinkly Christmas trees are disappearing and that can feel a bit grim. If we were to use the whole month to do this, I think that would be okay. It takes the pressure off, stops you feeling guilty if you haven’t cracked on with any goals/resolutions yet and actually gives you a breather to think and plan. This year, I return to work mid-January so for me personally, that is my unofficial re-start and I’m loosely using these two weeks to tick-off lingering life admin tasks, do some clearing out and make plans for 2023.
I firmly believe that if we don’t want to make any changes just because the calendar clicked over into January, we shouldn’t. I also firmly believe that if we find the new year a good opportunity to reset and adjust, we should embrace it. But none of it should be done in a rush and there absolutely should not be any guilt involved whatsoever.
Hey there!
