Three go adventuring

Today was one of those days when we just had to get out of the house. I don't know if it's a boy thing or just my boys but man, these kids have some energy. And today that energy was almost giving me a breakdown so off to the Outdoors we went.

Westonbirt Arboretum is a 40 minute drive from where we live but well worth the journey. It normally costs £8 per adult * (under-fives are free) but we go quite alot so have joined Friends of Westonbirt which means you can go as much as you like over a 12-month period.

It's perfect for us because it gives us a safe, traffic-free open space where they can run, jump and gallop (yes, they gallop) off their energy. There are 2 areas, the silk wood where you can take your dog and the old arboretum (which we went to today) where they don't allow dogs but kids are welcome to run free.

In the old arboretum there is a family trail with things to do for the kids along the way, like a den-building station with wood and 'tiles' to build a house and a network of wood and tree roots to navigate. They also have a tree themed play area with a log tunnel, tree house and wood carvings to play with and educate.

Throughout the year they also hold events such as Treefest, coming up this month and Enchanted Christmas where they light up the trees in a winter wonderland.

They used to have a cafe too which sold amazing cakes but sadly as I found out today, the people who used to run it don't anymore. They did have a pretty cool airstream though, selling ice creams and hot drinks.

If you live nearby, it's definitely worth a visit. Take a picnic, make a day of it and await the deep sleep your children will enjoy as a result (pleeeease?!)

This isn't a sponsored post, we just love it!

Latest creation...

After an industrious few weeks, I have another super-cute blanket available in the shop. It's slightly smaller than the others but still makes for super baby snuggles.

It measures 73cm x 54cm and is available now in the shop.

Up, up and away!

Ever have a really good idea for something to do, thinking it'll be a real treat for the kids then it turns out to be a disaster with them not actually caring about the thing? Yeah, that happened yesterday.

We thought the Bristol Balloon Fiesta would be fun for the boys now they're a bit bigger. They love to watch balloons overhead so we thought they'd get really excited about seeing a whole bunch of them, close up, taking off right in front of their excited little faces.

Wrong.

It started so well. We bought advance parking online for £6 (it's £10 if you don't pre-book) and went straight through to a designated car park, all easy, straightforward and stress-free so far. None of the gargantuan queues I remember from my childhood.

A short, downhill walk to the house at Ashton Court took us on a route through the fairground rides to get to the balloon field. This is where it started to go wrong.

Finn decided he wanted to go on a ride which we decided to say no to as last time this happened he cried when it started, tried to get out and they had to stop the ride so I could yank him off.

So we had tears agogo until we got to the balloon field and the sight of the magnificent hot air-filled beasts stopped the tantrum in it's tracks. Until a guy came past with a handful of silver kids helium balloons and ruined our evening.

Finn decided he wanted one. Cue hysterics for the next hour or so. By this time the balloons were inflating and the mass ascent was underway. It's an amazing sight and if you ever get the chance to visit the fiesta, I'd recommend timing it around an ascent.

Unfortunately Finn didn't feel the same. The tears stopped momentarily if an interesting-shaped balloon went up (hello, WoodyWoodpecker!) but all the cuddles, talks and 'wow, look at that balloon' -ing wasn't working so we had to abandon and head back up to the car.

So an evening which we thought would be brilliant for the kids turned out, rather disappointingly, not the fun family adventure we'd hoped but hey ho, you live and learn, eh?

And Max had a great time. He played, he danced, he gazed at the balloons lifting up, up and away. He ignored his brother and had alot of fun. 1 Out of 2 ain't bad, hey?

Angst

Kid loves to dance

Breaking point

Until now I think I've done ok with the working parent thing. I work 2-3 days a week and the kids are either in nursery or with Andy. I manage to keep the two separate and if I need to get any work stuff done in between my days I can do it in the evening.

Things are changing. The business is demanding more of my time and the two worlds are colliding with catastrophic effects. (not actually catastrophic but it sounds dramatic, huh?)

We don't have a receptionist at work. Initially this was down to cost and we were able to manage bookings and phone calls through a phone answering service. Now, however, we're getting busier and clients need answering throughout the day.

Because we're so busy Andy is in appointments all day so it falls to me to deal with the new clients. All well and good if I'm physically there but trying to juggle therapists, clients and answering new queries, all whilst trying to give my children the attention they need is getting the better of me.

Something's gotta give, I need a solution. Until then, I'll be the gibbering wreck in the corner clutching the bottle of gin.

Home-baked brioche

Brioche. Is it bread or cake? Bread? Cake? Cakey-bread? Ok, so it's probably bread but it starts life as a cake-mix. Whatever it is, my kids can't get enough of it, their little middle-class requests of 'can I have brioche, please?' echoing around the house on a regular basis.

It's not ideal as a snack but better than cake and not too bad as an afternoon pick-me up occasionally. It's fair to say we go though it a fair amount.

So today I had a go at making it myself. Thing is, homemade bread is seen as this time-consuming, faffy persuit but the actual 'hands on' stuff probably only takes 20 minutes. The rest of the time is taken waiting. And waiting. Which is cool if you have a few hours at home, it's all good.

I turned to Richard Bertinet and adapted a recipe from his Dough book (which is excellent by the way) and it turned out pretty good. I'm pretending Max didn't say he prefers the shop version though. Rude.

You will need:

250ml whole milk, warmed to lukewarm
Sachet fast action yeast
500g Strong bread flour
60g Butter at room temperature
40g Caster sugar
Tsp salt
2 large eggs
1 egg, beaten, for the egg wash

1. Mix the yeast into the flour and rub the butter in with your fingertips until it resembles fine breadcrumbs (I just chucked it in a food processor. Sorry, Mr B)

2. Mix in the sugar and salt. You can also add chocolate chips or raisins at this stage-yum

3. Add the eggs and milk and stir well until it comes together in a wet dough

4. Turn out and knead for 5-10 minutes until smooth and elastic (or if you have an elecric mixer, whack it in with the dough hook on a slow speed for 5 minutes). It's pretty sticky so if it's not coming together, add more flour

5. Mould into a ball by stretching the top around and tucking underneath then transfer to a lightly floured bowl

6. Leave for an hour to prove until roughly doubled in size

7. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and divide into 3 equally-sized balls

8. Divide each ball into a further 5 equally-sized balls

9. Roll each ball into a short, fat sausage and brush with the egg wash

10. Place widely-spaced on a baking tray (or 2) and leave to prove again for an hour

11. Pre-heat the oven to 220C and bake for 8-10 mins until lighly coloured

12. Transfer to a wire rack to cool and test your willpower by trying to wait until cool enough to eat. Yum.

Tour De South Glos.

What to do when the kids have gone to their Grandparents for lunch?

a) Go out for lunch? 
    No money

b) Go back to bed?
    There's a danger we may never wake up

c) Stay home and catch up with jobs around the house?
    Not a chance

d) Go for a bike ride together?
    YES!

So off we went, a 22 mile jaunt (route) around the best lanes South Gloucestershire has to offer. We spent the time daydreaming about living in one of the many quiet villages we passed though, almost being taken out by a sparrowhawk and narrowly missing a collision with a beaten up Rover.

And the rain waited until we got back. Result.

All change

So, we've been a bit quiet around here lately. Reflective, I guess and quietly freaking out about the change which is about to smack us in the face in 4 short weeks' time.

As Finn starts school, I'm changing my working hours, you see. His school don't do any after school clubs and certainly for the first months I want to be there to pick him up, hear all about his day and sit and do his homework with him (yes, really. At 4 years old).

I'm very lucky that I can do this. Part of the reason we started the business was to allow us the flexibility to work around family commitments and this is starting to pay off. So I'll work an extra day and finish in time for the school run.

The nursery Max goes to at the moment runs from 8-6 including school holidays. Which is great, and has been until this point but we do pay substantially for the privilege and even with the 15 hours free childcare that all 3 & 4 year-olds are entitled to in this country, it costs big at the start of each month. (You can use a maximum of 6 hours of the grant each day, in term time only so we still pay wraparound care for the other 4 hours a day and school holidays.)

So I kind of begrudge paying for evenings and school holidays when I'm going to be home anyway with Finn. I made the decision to move Max to a lovely local pre-school which is term-time only, and runs from 9-4. This will take his nursery fees from around £250 a month down to just £80. Bit of a no-brainer, really.

Your first child starting school is a big deal, right? I've written before about how much I'll miss him and my (irrational) worries for him but with all the anxiety (me) and excitement (him, thankfully) surrounding the beginning of this new adventure, I've not stopped to consider Max and how this new routine will affect him.

Since the day he was born, he's had Finn right at his side. I always think of the first-born as the pioneer, taking on life's experiences and carving out the way for their sibling(s). Finn was first to go to nursery, first to go to the activity clubs, first to walk, talk and hit the big milestones. By the time Max reached them, Finn was already there. Watching out for him, keeping him company and providing a familiar, comforting presence each time.

For the first time, Max is to do something alone and it's upsetting me more now than Finn starting school. Max already clings and cries when I leave him at nursery, the sounds of 'Mummy!' chasing me as I leave the building (I must point out that he's stopped by the time I reach the front door and always has an amazing time at nursery, as I see when I collect him) and now I have to leave him somewhere new. New people, new environment, new children.

And for the first time ever he won't have his brother there. Alone. I'm actually near tears now thinking about it. How silly is that? Parents go through this all the time. It's something he needs to do, I want him to learn independence and confidence and all the things which go with growing up but I can't shake off the feeling that he's still my baby and still needs protecting. Insane, I know since he's just turned 3 but there you go.

He'll be fine. He's been for visits and cried when I had to take him home (surely a good sign?!). The ladies who run the group are brilliant and provide excellent, inspiring, fun activities to fill the day. He'll make friends who'll probably be going up to school with him and this is important, that he'll have familiar faces when he starts big school, making that transition much easier. And we'll have more time together. An extra 2 hours when he's collected and all those school holidays, ripe for adventuring.

He's excited, Finn's excited and I'm freaking out. The best thing I can do now is just keep my trap shut, keep this as exciting as I can for them and not allay my anxieties onto them and spoil what should be (and is) a happy, positive time in their lives. They need to learn a life independent of me, of each other and I know they'll have a ball. And you know what? I'm their Mum. No matter where they are or what they do, I'll ALWAYS be right there at their side.

P.S. Is it kind of ironic that as I conclude a post about how they look after each other, they're pounding on each other in the living room? Gotta go...