If you’ve been following some of my social media posts recently, then you might know I’ve just come to the end of a 21 day cleanse. First, let’s read the riot act involved; no dairy, no gluten, no sugar, no caffeine, no booze. No animal protein from week 2. Optional magnesium salt baths, liver cleansing castor oil packs. Tumeric tea. Definitely no G n T.
You’re back so soon? Didn’t we just have coffee? I thought we’d been over the fact that I shouldn’t get so annoyed with the kids? So irritated when my words frequently fall on small, fluff filled ears. I thought I’d made it clear that I’d be less pissed off in future, about having to repeat myself like a parrot to get the simplest of tasks done.
“What are you going to say to the lady at the hire place when you drop the campervan back?” I ask the husband half way through our five hour commute back to civilisation.
“That was SO brilliant, thanks EVER so much!” he replies with fake joviality. We both laugh, by now fully able to admit: We’re not cut out for this campervanning malarkey.
Let’s rewind the clock shall we?
“Fff – Uuuhh – Ccc,” says Molly, carefully sounding out the letters phonetically. “What does that spell Mummy?” she asks with a sheepish look on her face. “I think you know fine rightly what that spells, Miss Molly Parsons,” I say sharply. “You tell me.”
“I think it’s a naughty word, Mummy. A word that we might say it if we’re really tired or very cross.”
Have you noticed everyone seems to be either making or thinking about making almond milk these days? I’ve been meaning to try it for a while, as we often spend a small fortune on it, but I never had one of those trendy nut ‘mylk’ bag thingys to squeeze it all through. Finally a friend suggested I use a baby muslin cloth. Now those I have. In abundance. So finally, I made my own, and it was so much less of the faff than I thought it would be.
Something has been happening to me over the last while. It’s a feeling of almost coming full circle. Like I’m finally settling into a newer version of myself. A little battered round the edges perhaps, but one that still bears a strong resemblance to the old me, except with two crazy kids in tow. And if I had to put a title on it, I’d say it was a feeling of ‘becoming mum.’
I’m really excited to be hosting a very special mini retreat with my good friend and fellow yoga teacher, Amanda Cunliffe-Smith, on Friday 20th January. We all know that sticking to New Year’s resolutions is not always easy, and by the end of the month our good intentions may have already fallen by the wayside! Our retreat is aimed at helping you break this cycle and stay true to what is important to you.
The second child always has to settle for a few hand me downs, and one of those for little Henry has been Molly’s cot and mattress. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit I never got around to cleaning it, so when the team from Healthy Home messaged to ask me if I’d ever had my kids’ mattresses sanitised, I gulped at the thought of what might be lurking in the fibres. And let’s face it, in the lovely dust bowl we live in, children here seem to pick up coughs and colds faster than you can sneeze. Along with being prone to things like asthma, allergies and eczema.