Being authentically wholesome and very uncool

I am in love with the word 'whole' at the moment, particularly as a prefix. Having read a lot of Brene Brown recently I'm all over the word 'wholehearted' and the general concept of wholeheartedness.

I'm also big on wholesomeness. I thought today, watching Cherry and Violet stare transfixed at an old-fashioned petrol lawn mower (the kind that you have to start by yanking repeatedly at a long cord. I don't even know what the word for that is. I probably used to. I reckon I've started a fair share of mowers that way) that if I were to sum up the childhood I want to give them in one word, it would be 'wholesome'.

It being September my thoughts are getting pretty wholesome anyway, full of lovely things like knitwear and apples and crackly leaves and morning frosts and rosy cheeks and bonfires and toffee apples and hearty stews and apple crumbles. Autumn lends itself so beautifully to wholesome but I like to apply wholesome year-round, as much and as often as possible.

I'm outdoorsy, enthusiastic, physically expressive, excitable. I'm really, really uncool.

This is how I want to be, and this is I suppose how I want my daughters to be too, although I have to caveat that with the disclaimer that I want my daughters to be whoever they are going to be. Somewhere within Cherry or Violet may lurk the angular limbs, nonchalance and aesthetic mastery of a hipster but you know what? I doubt it. With Noel and I as parents their chances of inheriting any street cred are less than zero.

I suppose it could be learned. If it bothered them that much.

I hope it doesn't. I love being uncool. I haven't always loved it (you'll notice I cannot deny that I have always been uncool). Not being a cool kid at school is pretty tough sometimes, even if you are very wholesome. But at 34 I love having the freedom and confidence to embrace my wholesomeness wholeheartedly, to practice cartwheels and handstands at the playground with Cherry and Violet despite the sniggering teenagers, to still derive such deep joy from being ruddy-cheeked and breathless in the chilly air then coming in and getting into a hot bath.

Today I saw an article about a spoof Instagram account poking fun at the kind of wholesome, authentic, wholehearted Instagram feeds that seem so very divisive. Some of us, and I fully include myself in this category, absolutely love the arty shots, styling, whimsical captions, liberal use of inspirational quotes (yep I'm a sucker for them) and hefty dose of positive thinking. I don't just love it, I aspire to it. I want MY IG feed to be all wholesome and pretty and apple-cheeked and authentic and heartfelt and genuine. I find it a really, really lovely way to live.

It's not that I want to stick my head in the sand and ignore THE WORLD or pretend that my life and everything in it is perfect, it's more that I have no interest in cynicism and criticism for criticism's sake. The sarcastic ranty blogposts, the hilariously knowing opinion columns, the look-how-hard-I'm-not-trying-to-try-too-hard spoofs and swipes. Having had my time of finding all of the above really 'me', I know for a fact the only reason I was drawn to any of it was to cover and conceal my own vulnerabilities. It's cool not to care - not to care so much that you write great big long rants about how much YOU DON'T CARE.

I care and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I care about being a kind person, about thinking positively, about choosing my language carefully because I really feel that language plays such a huge part of how we think and feel, and often we don't even realise it. I care about the kind of world I am borrowing from my children and grandchildren. I care about my own boundaries, and the impact I make and the effect I have on the people around me.

I care about having the strength to be vulnerable, enthusiastic, and very uncool. I care about the kind of role model I am for my daughters but most of all, I care about how I feel about the life I live, right now. Having tried the odd other model on for size and always found it ill-fitting, constricting, scratchy or just downright wrong, I can wholeheartedly say that I can think of no better life to live than a wholesome one.

Easter in Yorkshire and slowing down

We spent Easter with Noel's family in Doncaster. This was actually our first visit since Violet was a very young baby and I was excited for the girls to spend some time with this side of their family, my side currently being camped out in Singapore.

It's amazing how much more you notice when you are with children - well I find I do anyway. I notice and learn so much not only about the children but also about myself, and about Noel, and about our dynamic as a family.

The main thing I noticed this break was how much more rewarding life, travel and everything in between is when you slow down and take the time to pay attention.

Noel and I consciously chose to slow down to our children's pace when Cherry began walking. It's a very adult trait to hurry and rush your child along, to hurtle to the destination for no purpose other than because that's where you're going.

The day we realised that for Cherry (and now Violet too) the journey usually is the destination, and the fun part, was the day we vowed to never hurry or harry our children. Instead we do things on 'Cherry time' or as it is now, 'Cherry and Violet time'.

(That said the actual car journey to Doncaster was a little too unhurried even for our liking, six and a half hours of relatively relentless queues and roadworks. Fortunately both Cherry and Violet are pretty good travellers.)

In slowing down and taking things at Cherry and Violet's pace this weekend I saw:

My older daughter gritting her teeth and setting her jaw in determination as she struggled to master swinging off a hanging rope. I think left to her own devices she'd still be there now!

My younger daughter's attachment needs loom large before my eyes as she asked for far more holding, cuddles, feeding, love and attention from me than 'normal'. I made a mental note to pack the sling for Singapore! We haven't done much babywearing recently, mostly Violet walks everywhere or goes (reluctantly) in the buggy for short distances. Being out and about for full days she was much more keen to be carried.

How Noel and I often go home too early. This is partly a throwback to days when Cherry still napped, and we tried to coincide coming home with her nap or make sure we were home in time for her to nap. And if I'm honest it's partly because sometimes Cherry can be something of a slow-burner when it comes to days out. She's always been a child that takes time to settle in - then once settled, she doesn't want to go home! But on the days when it takes her a really long time to settle, it can be much easier to just pack up and go after an hour or two than stick it out for the entire day.

How easily and happily both Noel and I wander off the beaten track, follow our own and our children's noses and find new and interesting things to do. Our willingness to explore and enjoy the journey rather than rush to the destination is one of our greatest strengths as a family and I felt really proud of all of us this weekend.

How uncomfortable and anxious Cherry can be when she feels nervous, overwhelmed or in unfamiliar and unexpected circumstances. We all want to see the best in our children, but I feel it's important to see children for who they truly are too.

That sharing a queen-sized bed with a restless Violet and a poorly Noel does not make for a good night's sleep!

That children really do know family. We haven't spent huge amounts of time with Noel's family, and since Violet was born even less, but both children seem to understand that the people we were surrounded by meant something and were truly connected to them.

That it's lucky I had promised I wasn't going to stress about bedtimes and sleep, because both girls were awake until nearly 9pm and up and about at 6. It's nice to let them stay up later and see them enjoy themselves - but I think they will need a few earlier nights this week!

Somehow time is flying by and we leave for Singapore in less than a month. In the spirit of honesty I freely admit I am both hugely excited and more than a little anxious about our impending trip. A few days in Yorkshire actually went a long way towards settling some of my concerns about our upcoming six weeks on the other side of the world.

I was reminded of how fundamentally adaptable children are and how much easier everything is when you slow down and take time to explore as opposed to stick to the pre-ordained path and hurtle to the finish line.

As incredibly grateful as I am for the opportunity to travel and see more of the world with our children, I can't deny that the trip does feel like a huge undertaking - not least the 13 hour flight home with both children but without Noel! But I am confident if I take things on Cherry and Violet time I will be up to the challenge.

A week off the white stuff

When I wrote this post I was feeling very unhappy about my body, both my physical size and the way I felt inside. I felt bloated and uncomfortable a lot of the time, and I was aware the way I was eating wasn't doing me any good.

Tired from constant wake ups with Violet and the general demands of two small children, I was reaching into the cupboard for a sweet treat without really thinking. We live near a gorgeous bakery and stopped by most days. It was when I noticed I was buying two or three different cakes just for me, eating them and still wanting more, that I realised my sweet tooth had got completely out of control.

Then I read this post by Keri-Anne whose gorgeous blog Gingerlillytea I absolutely LOVE and when she mentioned only having eaten sweets or chocolates twice since Christmas something clicked inside my head.

I suddenly realised I needed to stop eating sugar.

I have a massive sweet tooth and absolutely LOVE chocolates, cakes, biscuits, baked goods, doughnuts, flapjacks, puddings, ice cream, you name it. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a bit of an emotional eater as well. If I feel sad, grumpy, tired, miserable or even just a bit bored and restless my hand reaches for a biscuit practically automatically. And then another. And another. Once I start I find it hard to stop, I can easily demolish half a packet of biscuits or an entire family-sized chocolate bar in one sitting, and still want more.

I can't remember the last time I went more than a day, two at a push, without eating some form of sweet treat. Once or twice I have decided I'm not going to eat so many, will manage a day or two, then I'll reach a point where hunger, deprivation and general cravings collide and snap, and demolish anything sweet I can get my hands on. Then I'll feel crap and beat myself up for not being able to stick to my resolve and seeing as I've started that packet of biscuits I might as well finish them now….

It's not really had a huge impact on my weight as I have always been so active, but in a way this means I have given myself permission to eat even more biscuits and chocolates 'because I work out'. But it was starting to have a massive impact on the way I felt about myself, and so the sugar had to go.

To be clear I'm not talking about cutting out all forms of sugar. I know some are fanatical about going sugar-free and cut out fruit, dairy (which contains lactose) and refuse to entertain sugar substitutes like honey, maple syrup or agave nectar. I don't suffer from any intolerances or medical conditions and for a healthy person like me, I felt to cut out all forms of sugar completely would be unnecessary.

That said, I felt it was important I went a bit cold turkey to begin with to really break the sugar habit. I didn't want to replace eating three cakes from the bakery with demolishing three muffins sweetened with honey or maple syrup instead, so I have spent the last week avoiding any sugar substitutes at all. I have eaten fruit, and bread which contains some sugar. But I have avoided any foods, sauces, cereals and the like that list sugar in the ingredients (I thought I would be safe with a bowl of good old Corn Flakes, until I read the label. Once you start looking there's sugar EVERYWHERE!)

It hasn't been easy. I have felt quite limited in what I can eat and despite being aware I was eating and relying on sugar far too much it has surprised me how often I've wanted something sweet. After every meal my mind instantly wanders to a pudding. I want sweet snacks during the day, and at breakfast I've been pretty much limited to toast and eggs or nut butter (I'm not a fan of porridge). Any time I get a bit restless I've started thinking about how much I want something sweet to eat.

On Tuesday night I actually made a batch of raw chocolate peanut butter cups, which are free from refined sugar but do have maple syrup in them. I thought, at least if I have these on standby if the cravings do get too much I can have one instead of thinking 'oh sod it' and buying and eating half a bakery. Having the reassurance of a standby seems to have worked well, as I haven't touched them yet.

I have tried to avoid thinking too much about sugar but haven't forced my mind away if it has popped into my head that I'd like something sweet. I've definitely eaten more fruit than I usually do, and a bit more cheese too. What's been surprising is the realisation that basically everything I have been snacking on contains sugar. I haven't snacked on fruit or cheese in years. I've just been defaulting to something sweet. It's quite eye-opening.

A week in and I feel amazing. I have noticed a huge difference, with absolutely no bloating or cramping and a massive reduction in general gassiness. As a result I feel far less lardy, even though I have no idea if I've lost any weight or not. I feel much more comfortable in my clothes, my waistbands feel looser, and I just generally feel happier. And my skin looks great, although it's been pretty good since I got into the green smoothie habit.

I don't feel particularly deprived and my mood has been quite stable and upbeat, which is a pleasant surprise. I definitely felt a bit grumpy the first day or two and had a bit less patience with Cherry but after the third sugar-free day it was business as usual. I feel like I've had much more energy, we've had a busy week and I've run or cycled or done yoga every day, but I'm not feeling particularly worn out from it.

Today I have made a batch of sweet potato brownies as I do want to have something to nibble on and I seem to be turning to toast and peanut butter a bit more than I would like. I am a bit concerned this will open the floodgates and I will be piling down mountains of muffins within days. If this happens I'll have to go back to no substitutes. But I'm hopeful I can introduce a couple of alternatives and keep them as genuine treats, not everyday treats.

I'm very much taking an experimental, take it one day at a a time approach which feels less pressured. I can't see me never eating sugar again and I have in mind that a chocolate egg at Easter would be a nice stepping-stone to give me something to look forward to. But the main thing is I know I can go a whole week without eating any sugary snacks, and that feels like a bit of an achievement if I'm honest.

Half term

Motherhood can be really hard sometimes. I think the hardest part is the pressure we put ourselves under. For me it's to ENJOY EVERY MOMENT. I am conscious my children will only be so young for such a short period of time. I'm also conscious that, having chosen to have children so close in age, the baby years are already behind me and the toddler years will follow in the blink of an eye.

Which means these times now are all the more precious and I want to enjoy them all, I really do. But it's so hard sometimes! We've had a rubbish half term. I was so hoping to enjoy this holiday.

We had a few playdates planned and some outings and trips, the obligatory visit to Granny's house and a day out at Wisley and some fun in the butterfly house. February half term is always my favourite as it usually kicks off with or incorporates my birthday. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, Violet got sick.

Then I did.

Then Cherry did.

Then it was Tuesday already and all I'd done was wipe up sick and smell sick and deal with sick and generally been surrounded by sick.

We did make it to Granny's house for a very lovely afternoon and night, but the next day our trip to Wisley was a complete disaster. Cherry, still not 100%, fell asleep in the car on the way. That's always a bad sign these days. She rarely, if ever, naps any more. If she does sleep during the day it's really heavy sleep, she's groggy and upset when she wakes up and it can take her a good hour or two to really orientate herself again - then she won't go to bed again til 9pm. All in all, naps are BAD.

But she fell asleep, which meant she woke up groggy and disoriented and proceeded to scream and cry for the 50 minutes we were actually at Wisley. One thing after another - she was cold, she didn't want to wear her coat, she was hungry, we had to wait for a table, she didn't want apple juice, she wanted orange juice AND SO ON.

Eventually I took pity on everybody (myself included) and just took her home.

It's hard to know how to deal with Cherry sometimes. Much is made of ages and stages - terrible twos, threenagers - but I tend to just think kids will be kids and that as parents we tend to over-apologise for what is often completely ordinary and normal behaviour.

Some children breeze through the early years without so much as a blip, others hit every 'stage' going full throttle and stay there for ages. Cherry is a challenging, emotional, passionate child with a very defined personality and a clear sense of who she is. She is not malleable, easily influenced or obedient and she is prone to resistance, especially if tired or unwell - the more run-down she is the more resistant. She's a wonderful untamed spirit and I wouldn't change her for the world but sometimes she is completely exhausting and there's only so much I can give.

Today has been a struggle, although it did end very happily and positively. One thing I will say for Cherry, she always lets me know when things need to change. I've never really prioritised one-on-one time with either of my children thus far, it's basically been completely unviable other than the odd bit here and there with one of them.

But Cherry's made it clear that this has to change, and I can see that there is a need to carve out a small portion of time every day for just me and her. I'm not quite sure how we will manage this yet, my preference would be to get Violet into bed nice and early and have half an hour or so with Cherry before she turns in. But both girls are super-early risers and Violet is often tricky to settle, meaning Cherry could be left waiting for up to an hour for her 'Mummy time'. Plus after an hour of settling Violet and 12.5-13 hours of parenting I'm usually ready for a bit of child-free time to be honest!

The other option is the morning, we're all usually up some time between 5.30 and 6.30am and Noel doesn't usually leave until gone 7, so there is potential there. Mornings are not my preference, Cherry usually wants to play with Violet and is full of the joys, so really it's in the evenings that she could benefit from a bit of quiet, close, loving time with me.

The other thing this half term has once again highlighted is how much I need to be looking after myself. I actually struggle with that concept overall - I know I need to look after myself but realistically and practically speaking what does that actually mean? Cliches of massages and bubble baths abound, I love massages and yes I love a bath too but I am increasingly feeling it's my emotional and spiritual needs that could do with a bit of focus. More on that soon no doubt, in the mean time I found this an interesting read on that subject. And this, from the same site, on changing the shape of your mornings, which has become something of an ongoing quest for me.

I hope your half term was better than ours! Still, there's always Easter…fingers crossed.

Travel and children: Living the dream closer to home

I wrote a piece for the Telegraph's Men section this week. Frustratingly cycling content, unless it is specifically related just to women, is filed under 'men'. SIGH. Anyway, I happened to be browsing the men's section to see if my piece had gone up yet (you can read it here if you so desire) and I found this piece on travelling with children.

It's a really great read that is actually becoming a bit familiar. Among the online circles I haunt a fair few families have had the courage to rip up the rulebook and follow their dreams.

Being the kind of person who tends to want to BE the people she admires, immediately I also want a VW Camper and a spirit of adventure. I want Noel to take a sabbatical from work, I want us to pack up and off we will go.

Only we don't have a VW camper and I don't know if Noel could get a sabbatical and we've never really travelled and I'm not sure, truth be told, that I'm the travelling type.

I'm not sure I'm not, but I'm pretty terrified of flying. Also I'm not really that interested in sightseeing and bargaining in markets in Marrakech (isn't that what travellers do?) and I don't smoke pot or want to lose myself on a beach in Thailand and I think I'd probably prefer a nice hotel to a camper van and insert 90's travelling cliche here.

And I love our home and our community and our family life here. And sometimes the best part of the day for me comes after I've been out in the cold and the mud with the children and we can come home and climb into a hot bubble bath together and then put on our pyjamas and watch Frozen.

None of this rules out travel but it's probably something I think we would need to work up to. Noel might not even want to, I've never really discussed it with him, because it's only just become That Thing I Have To Do and between you and me, I'm a bit faddy.

But there are a few signs pointing to travel becoming more of a force in our lives in the coming years.

We will be going to Singapore in May to stay with our family, and the girls and I will be staying for about a month after Noel heads back. With family based there for the foreseeable future it's a great springboard to the other side of the world.

I could probably place much more travel content now than I could have done a year or two ago.

We have just over 18 months before Cherry starts school and our travel options are limited - but that said I wouldn't think twice about taking her out of or delaying school to travel. Noel might have different ideas of course, again, it's not really come up yet.

I could write a book about our travels with our children.

I now own a travellers notebook - I mean of all the signs, this is surely the biggest?

What is it about the idea of travelling with children that appeals so much? Logistically speaking it could be a bloody nightmare, all four of you crammed into a tiny camper van alongside all the minutae of family life, the parts that you spread between the four walls of your house, bundled together and compressed into such a small, in our case probably quite smelly space.

I can feel I have no space and no headspace living in a roomy three-bed semi. What would I feel like in a VW camper?

But I do recognise it's day-to-day life, and the obligations and burdens we put upon ourselves, that make us feel cramped, not the physical details of where we live.

Outside the camper van, is the world.

We could all see things we never thought we'd see, try things we never thought we'd do, we could learn so much about ourselves and each other, the world around us. We could be so free, and our children so wild, the world their teacher, the classroom chalkboard (or electronic screen as I suppose it is now) and having to raise your hand if you want to go to the toilet a million miles away.

I love the idea of my children experiencing freedom - true freedom - and of the children that still live in often quite pronounced ways within Noel and I getting to do the same. I can't speak for him but my inner child would love a year or so running wild and free. I would look like I do in this picture ALL THE TIME, windswept and romantic and faraway and knowing and wise.

So far we've managed two holidays since the children were born - one lovely week in a villa in the South of France with a six-month-old Cherry and a week in the Lake District last April which was summed up quite accurately by Noel as 'knackering and really, really hard work in a different house'.

We've certainly never attempted anything as down-to-earth as camping yet, although it's definitely on the to-do list. But having never even spent a night under canvas as a family, twelve months in a VW feels like a stretch at the  moment.

One thing I often think about the fantasy of travel is that we can dream we will become different people, our cares and worries will melt away, but in truth you're always still you, you're just you in a VW camper.

There's also still so much to be discovered and seen and learned in the country in which we currently reside.

Forests and hills and mountains and trees and beaches and cobbled streets and flea markets and adventures to be had right on our doorsteps.

There's a museum less than two miles from our front door.

There's an ecology centre, a community allotment, a co-operative farm, art galleries, lavender fields, festivals, fairs and poetry readings. We live within 20 minutes of London. Two hours from the coast.

There are adventures to be had every single day, if we want them.

Travelling and learning and exploring are a state of mind as much as about physical location.

There's a world outside our front door, so much I can show the children and so much I can learn to see through their eyes.

The idea of travelling the world is so very big, but often we're so preoccupied with the big things we forget the things that are small. Outside our front door.

We can live the dream right here. And I can find out if it's really a VW camper and a year globetrotting I want, or if it's just the idea and the promise of becoming a different, and of course infinitely happier person, that I'm so drawn to.

*This post is not sponsored by VW. Other camper vans are available.

Self-care

So many of us women seem to believe, because we have been taught, that to take care of oneself in the way we would take care of others without even thinking, is 'selfish' or 'self-indulgent'.

How I hate that last expression in particular.

What's wrong with indulging oneself? What does 'indulge' even mean, anyway? According to marketers, aka 24 year old men in skinny jeans and thick-rimmed glasses who have absolutely no idea what it is to be 1. female 2. a mother or 3. anybody but a fucking 24 year old bloke in thick-rimmed glasses, it means having a bubble bath or eating a low-fat yoghurt.

The sheer lack of imagination is breathtaking, as is the concept that soaking in tepid soapy water or eating reduced-fat sour milk with a chocolate-substitute-covered bit of cereal pulp as an accompaniment is in some way extraordinary, a way to 'thank ourselves', a bit of 'me-time', to 'get away from the daily grind'.

With a yoghurt? Seriously, is that the best you can do? Shouldn't we be able to just have baths and eat, or in my case choose not to eat, those infernal fucking yoghurts without feeling that this is it - this and only this is our prize, our reward for being good girls?

On the flip side the positive language around self-care is equally trite. Magazines and newspapers urge us to 'treat ourselves' to a top we don't want and won't suit us, or 'pamper ourselves' with a 'spa day with the girls', like such a 'treat' is within financial and practical reach and all that stands between us and giggling over Babycham with mud-masks on our faces and cucumber discs over our eyes is the simple fact that we haven't thought of it ourselves.

Whether negative or positive all the language around self-care unites to imply that to look after yourself is a 'treat', 'indulgent', and in some way sinful or 'naughty' because to put one's needs first, even as a 'pampering experience', is taboo. An unnecessary and frivolous extra.

This, of course, only applies to women. For men, self-care, pampering oneself, treating oneself and self-indulgence simply does not exist, or rather, it is known by its proper name of 'doing things I like doing and don't have to justify because the fact that I like it is enough'.

You may also know it as football, cricket, beer, music, films, video games, computers, books, crochet, cooking, cycling, driving, gardening, beekeeping, golf, watching television, painting, writing, meditating, potholing, collecting, or whatever it is that men like to do, which curiously absolutely never features skimmed milk products.

Our boundaries of self-care are narrow and demeaning. Beauty treatments, food that 'tastes just like the real thing!' but won't blow the inevitable diet we're all supposed to be on, shopping. Even genuine healing arts like massage are shoehorned into the catch-all of 'beauty' which is stamped with frivolity.

Looking good is self-care, this we know, as even self-care must have an end-goal of self-improvement and a greater conformity to socially accepted yet utterly impossible standards. But we should feel ashamed of wanting to look and feel good, at the same time, and categorise it as a 'treat' or a 'guilty pleasure' rather than just something we do because we want to and that is enough.

I've spent 33 years thinking my wants and needs are frivolous and unimportant. I find it sad that it's taken two young children to make me realise that as the epicentre of their world, I am the epicentre of my world and it's important that I take care of myself. Full stop.

For a while I have been almost ashamed of the recognition that I have to take care of myself 'for my children' and 'to make me a better mother,' which is entirely true.

But actually I have to take care of myself for myself.

I don't need a reason, or a justification.

I am enough.

All summer long I've had this little fantasy of getting on my bike and cycling to the lido, spending the morning having a nice swim, drinking coffee, reading, writing in my journal, then upping sticks and heading to a Lebanese restaurant Cherry and I used to frequent for lunch, all by myself.

All summer long I've found reason after excuse as to why I can't do it. Every glorious Saturday or Sunday morning while the sun beat down over that lovely hot summer, I've managed to put obstacles in my own way, driven by a compulsion that to do something just because I want to do it, with no goal or end or purpose in mind, is wrong.

I'm not training for a bike ride or a triathlon. I don't need to ride my bike or swim. I don't have an end goal.

I just want to.

It's been a huge realisation, a wake-up call of epic proportions, to realise just how much I entirely voluntarily deprive myself of, just because I cannot give a reason other than 'because I want to'.

So, I think I'm going to the lido on my bike, and for lunch. Today.

Because I want to.

Balance

She has it!

And she almost has it!

Do I have it? Oh god no. It's been a year and I am still struggling to balance the rights, wants and needs of myself with those of my children.

Our rights are, as I see it, equal. Their needs have to come first - of course, this is without question. Their wants, however, cannot and should not always come first. That I genuinely believe.

That said, neither can or should mine, or mine and Noel's. It's all a balance.

I cannot pretend to be close to having it right all or even most of the time. There is so much joy, but I also have periods of feeling overwhelmed, exhausted and quite despairing. Much of this relates to my own internal balance - or lack of it.

Putting two young children and even a very minimal amount of work on top of this, not to mention wider family, friends, and it's often game over for my wants and needs.

(That's not to say it's particularly a win for anybody else, mind. It's just often how life is.)

Of course without due care and attention to my own wants and needs I cannot be the parent I want to be, the mother my children deserve, and the person in whose skin I feel comfortable.

But I do have it right some of the time, and that's something I can, and am going to, feel good about as my younger daughter prepares to turn one.

I can look back on a year of two children, four months of it with the notorious TWO UNDER TWO, and think that while this has been without question the hardest, sometimes the most soul-destroyingly relentless, year of my life, there are many times in which I really have got it right.

Yesterday afternoon I took both girls to the park. Sometimes I feel I need to be free of both children physically for a short time - just to have a few moments to myself without one or both of them clambering over me or asking me to lift, carry, push, move or generally assist them physically.

Taking them to the playground doesn't often solve this problem as both instantly want to be pushed on swings. Which I did, because this is their right to want, if that makes sense.

But it's also my right to want to prioritise my needs once in a while. So after ten minutes, I got both of them down from the swings and said 'I am not pushing, carrying, lifting, moving or helping either of you for the next ten minutes.

'I am going to sit down and I am going to watch you and drink my coffee.'

Off they went, Cherry going round and round and round on the climbing frame with that ferocious toddler concentration, Violet crawling about in the sandpit bashing sand and saying 'did did did' a lot, smiling her head off.

I watched them, and I drank my coffee. Every last full-fat drop.