A homemade dress

Last Sunday I spent all day making a dress for Cherry. I haven't sewn in years, other than a Christmas stocking three years ago the last thing I made was probably an outfit for the Best Dressed Doll category at the local village flower show.

(My mother and I decided to enter the category after seeing a cute pattern for a floral pinafore and we sewed the whole thing ourselves. I was involved in the entire process including using my mother's old Singer sewing machine, so it was very amateurish, and we still remember to this day the judges' comments were 'A little girl's dream - but very badly sewn.')

After I bought Violet her birthday dress from Wild Things Dresses I totally fell in love with Kirsty's style and when I saw she had a book out I bought it on impulse. Then I started looking for fabrics online and before I knew it I had two metres of stunning apple-print fabric, a metre of yellow cotton poplin and some contrasting blue thread sat at home next to my mother's sewing machine.

They sat for a fair few weeks, staring at me and I started to think 'I'm never going to make that dress'. I am full of great ideas that never materialise, plans and projects that never come to fruition, blogposts that never get written. It bothers me massively and I wanted to do something to prove to myself that I could see something through.

So out came the sewing machine, which I had forgotten entirely how to even thread, and I found a manual online, threaded the machine and made the dress in a day.

I loved every second of it. It was absorbing in a way that is hard to come by in a modern age of constant switching - from screen to laptop to phone to Kindle - and in an era of motherhood that is utterly defined by being constantly, endlessly interrupted, usually to wipe up a sticky substance of some kind. It was also tiring and once I was finished I felt slightly like I didn't know what to do with myself. It's been a very, very long time since I was able to get so involved and wrapped up in a project.

Cherry has barely taken it off since I presented it to her. As soon as she saw it her face lit up and she asked to wear it immediately and put apples in the pocket. She tells everybody who admires the dress that I made it for her. It's just adorable and I feel really glad that I have this time, this age when she is so grateful for my efforts. I'm fairly certain by the time she's in her teens should I dare present her with a (admittedly fairly badly) home-made effort she will be outraged.

But for now - she is thrilled. She doesn't care a jot that the stitching could be a bit (much) better and the hem isn't even and the straps don't quite match and  the billion and one other things that are far, far from perfect. She just loves her apple dress that her Mummy made for her, with the caveat of course, 'and one for Violet?'

A little camping trip

This weekend we headed to Salisbury for a night of camping with a group of friends and their children.

I haven't camped in years - just one short holiday under canvas in Devon since my days of Girl Guide camps and family Eurocamping in the south of France.

But I really loved the idea of rediscovering camping myself and introducing Cherry and Violet to the concept. They were super-excited when I put up our new tent a few days before to test it out (and check I actually remembered how to put a tent up!)

I did remember, thankfully. Not that it's rocket science really but still. As a very right-brained type who struggles to assemble the cardboard boxes you buy at post offices, I count it as an achievement.

We headed off to Salisbury at around 10am giving our two overexcited monkeys, one of whom had been awake since 4am in anticipation, plenty of time to nap and recharge their batteries on the journey.

Some of our friends had brought their daughter's dressing-up box, and Cherry and Violet instantly swooped in on some of the outfits. Cherry in particular really embraced the concept of 'layering'. For the rest of the trip we had Nurse Fairy Princess Butterfly here….

….and Little Miss Madam I'm A Fairy Princess Too!

As afternoon turned into evening a campfire was lit and layers were added on top of fancy-dress layers.  Cherry basically ate nothing but cake for tea and Violet attempted a picnic only to discard it in favour of being dragged about on a 'beep-beep-beep'.

Our tent is on the small side and barely accommodated the double and single inflatable air beds pushed together that formed our shared sleeping quarters. We didn't get the children down to sleep until gone 10pm.

Knowing they would be wide awake with the dawn, Noel and I followed shortly after. Sure enough Cherry and Violet were awake and raring to go at 5.20am so we reeled out the big guns - Peppa Pig on the tablet - to buy ourselves an hour's snooze.

We had fried egg and sausage sandwiches for breakfast and another good play before packing up and heading off.

We all loved everything about camping. Noel's probably the least keen of all of us, but he loved the atmosphere, the children running wild and free, the campfire and the camaraderie.

I have to say though this was more glamping than camping as we had access to a static unit with a fitted kitchen and toilet, running water, a fridge and freezer - pretty much all mod cons.

We massively overpacked and somehow I am still wading through laundry five days later. All learnings for the future.

I am still glowing from it though. That irresistible sense of connection as a family is really heightened by shared adventures, and whether you're just about to turn two or in your mid-30's, camping is always an adventure.

House rules

When we were in Singapore Cherry was tickled pink by this signpost, which we quickly christened Don't let your dog have a poo. She wanted her picture taken by it most days. Singapore is quite heavy on signposts, and when we got back she continued to notice them and ask me what they said or meant.

It really reminded me how children can respond to visual or written cues, even if they don't necessarily understand what they mean. As Cherry becomes ever more thirsty for knowledge, questioning just about everything (and I do mean EVERYTHING. Last week we found ourselves watching a Kendo class. If you thought three-year-olds came out with some tough questions at the best of times, you want to try standing next to two of them during Kendo) wherever possible I think the shortest and simplest explanation is often the best. I find we frequently return to discussions around taking care of our bodies, being kind and other general principles to live by.

As exhausting as it can sometimes (often!) be I do genuinely enjoy the process of stretching my own mind and becoming more questioning myself. I really try hard to help Cherry find the answers herself, usually by asking her what she thinks then taking her through leading questions until she gets there. Of course often I do have to eventually offer her the answer but I do like her to at least try and tell me what she thinks before I do so.

But there are some things - basic fundamental principles - that I explain time and again that I thought deserved a more concrete place in our conversations.

All of this has led us to write down a few rules. Hand on heart, I never thought ours would be the kind of home to have 'rules' and part of me feels a bit anxious that anybody reading this will now think I am a madly authoritarian dictator with a list of regulations for all who darken my door. Our rules are very simple and relatable, and they apply to all of us - Noel and I as well as the children.

Cherry, Violet and I discussed our rules together and we involved them in the process as much as possible given their tender ages. (Violet in particular had little of actual substance to add but she was at least present during their inception which is as much as any 23-month-old can reasonably expect I think!) I was very keen that our language and tone was as positive as possible - the last thing I wanted was a big list of ''don'ts'' and I think what we have come up with is much more of a list of 'do's'.

During a painting session I created this little rainbow and Cherry and Violet were very taken with it so we decided to write the rules on it and stick them on our wall. They are there now for all to see. Cherry in particular absolutely loves them. Every now and again, apropos of nothing, she will suddenly ask 'Mummy, what's number six?'

Rule six is in fact the only rule we have around food. I have always been very scrupulous about trusting and respecting my children's natural appetites and hunger cues and have never forced, coaxed or cajoled them to eat. There is no expectation upon anybody to clear their plate, regardless of whether or not pudding is available and nothing is conditional upon anybody 'eating their greens'.

I do however draw the line at providing snacks only for them to be discarded half-eaten, so we insist that they finish whatever snack they have (usually an apple) before they have another one, if they want one.

Rule five is not so much an attempt to potty-train Violet as a reaction to a rather unfortunate habit she's picked up as a result of going nappy-free a great deal of the time. Rule seven might seem a bit odd - making 'having fun' a rule? - but it's more to address the point that we all deserve to enjoy ourselves in life and if one of us constantly feels their preferences are not being considered and respected they have the right to raise this. It's also to help the children understand that not everybody will want to play 'that' game for 'that' long so sometimes you must compromise, and that jokes, pranks, games and the like are not actually 'funny' unless everybody is amused. This in future should help with conversations around concepts like bullying and abuse.

I find these rules generally good principles to live by, and having them also neatly side-steps many issues of control and rebellion. Admittedly my children are still very young, but they are both strong-willed and more than a little defiant by nature. Having rules that everybody in the house adheres to makes discipline far more of a democratic process. I think it's easier for both of them to accept 'in this house, we all get a turn' than it is for me to arbitrarily dictate that they must 'share' everything.

Rather than making Noel and I authority figures who must be blindly obeyed, having house rules means we all live by a unanimous contract, and I hope this means we all live a little more harmoniously. It also helps ensure we all know what to expect from one another, and that our communication remains open and democratic. It's empowering for children to feel they have a say and I encourage Cherry to call me out if she feels I have violated one of our rules. She has started, quite rightly, reminding me to 'speak kindly' if I become too animated and in danger of ranting and lecturing to hammer home a point. This feels to me a real affirmation that she knows her voice will be heard.

Do you have rules in your house?

Ten things I learned from long-haul travel with my children

Earlier this year we flew to Singapore to spend some time with my brother and his family, who moved out there at the end of 2014. This would be the biggest and most ambitious trip we'd ever undertaken as a family and that I personally had ever undertaken full stop.

I never really travelled when I was younger, bar the odd family holiday. Noel and I went to the Maldives on honeymoon and to New York for my 30th birthday so travel has featured more in recent years, and we took Cherry to Provence for a week when she was a little baby, but this was the first time we'd attempted anything like this as a family of four.

Our plan was to fly out together and stay with my brother, sister-in-law, nephew and niece. Noel would stay two weeks then fly home and Cherry, Violet and I would stay on. That meant me flying home solo with two children, which felt like an enormous undertaking particularly as I am not the most confident air traveller. I know it's pretty much the safest form of transport but I have never really got past the 'but how does it STAY IN THE AIR' thoughts and I can get quite panicky on flights, particularly during take-off and turbulence.

The trip didn't go exactly to plan by any means. It was however one of the most empowering experiences of my life and I have noticed a difference in all of us since returning home.

Here's ten things I learned along the way.

1. Know YOUR children
I'd read various 'top tips for flying with young children' ahead of the trip, but I also know my own children. Cherry and Violet are just not the kind of children who would sleep and watch TV all through a 14-hour flight, they are far too energetic and curious. We didn't go overboard with entertainment, treats, distractions and surprises as we were pretty sure the flight itself would be exciting and interesting enough for them. We planned for this and arrived very early for our outbound flight so they could soak up the atmosphere of an airport, explore, watch planes taking off and generally enjoy the new experience.

2. Expect the unexpected
About nine hours into the flight Violet began vomiting. She was sick for a couple of days then our nephew came down with it and was poorly for nearly a week, then Cherry had diarrhoea for a few days, then Noel was sick.
This put a big hold on any activities and exploring once we were in Singapore, but it did mean we got to spend plenty of time with our family and enjoy the condo and swimming pools. We managed to get out and explore later on in the trip.

3. Your children may change in ways you don't expect
Both Cherry and Violet seemed younger and more vulnerable in Singapore. They were both terrifically excited about the whole thing and Cherry in particular adored the experience of a new country. She glowed with happiness for much of it and she visibly grew in confidence, and her delight at being reunited with her beloved cousins lasted a good two weeks. Violet was far less independent than she is at home. She was only a baby when her cousins left the country and doesn't have the bond and shared history with them that Cherry has, so she was a little left out and consequently wanted far more time and attention from me.

4. The climate does make a difference
Singapore has a tropical climate and both Cherry and Violet found the humidity tiring. They slept really well, went to bed very easily and slept later than they usually do. Cherry, who is pretty responsible and independent at home, wanted help dressing, asked to go in the buggy and was less trustworthy on roads and in car parks. Violet wanted to be carried most of the time. I took the sling, but I found it hard going carrying her in the 35degree heat and intense humidity.

5. It's emotional
Quite apart from the emotions associated with being reunited with family, our big trip brought out emotions in all of us. Good ones and bad ones. In particular I felt more fearful and anxious than I usually do, and much of this was anticipation of the flight home by myself with both children. It really hung over my head a bit, even though the flight over was a resounding success bar the vomiting, and I found it hard to fully relax.

6. It's really hard work
Just two years and nine months separates Cherry and Violet's older cousin and Violet, the baby of the four. Living in an apartment with a one-year-old, two-year-old, three-year-old and four-year-old is noisy, messy, fun and seriously, seriously hard work. There wasn't much in the way of R and R for Noel and I, we managed one lunch out without the children in the entire two weeks we had together.

7. It's quite scary
I was so preoccupied by the flight home that I didn't really give much thought to how I would feel when Noel left. After he flew out I felt terrified. Even though I was staying with family, I suddenly felt completely alone and scared of this hot, strange, regimented country with patches of wildness spilling out in unexpected corners. I went to pieces for a few days and Cherry, who is highly sensitive and empathetic, picked up on my turmoil and became enormously challenging.

8. I'm pretty strong
After a dreadful couple of days of challenging behaviour from Cherry, lots of fighting between all four cousins and completely shot confidence from me, I found my mojo again. Cherry by this time was very anxious, with a newfound fear of thunderstorms and a loss of confidence in me, and I found depths of patience, tolerance and courage I didn't know I had in soothing and comforting her.

9. Some things are universal
At home, we spend as much time as possible outdoors. We do lots of trips and adventures, but we also spend lots of time outdoors closer to home - in the garden or out playing on our very quiet street and in a wooded area opposite. In Singapore the climate is such that time outdoors is pretty limited with small children unless you're at a water park. The heat is simply too fierce, the humidity too intense, and the country itself, once nothing but jungle, is very urbanised. We spent far more time indoors than we do at home, which felt quite counterintuitive. The more we got outside, to the Botanic Gardens or the jungle or any one of the amazing water parks, the more we all enjoyed ourselves. My favourite day by far was spent at Bukit Timah, a rainforest nature reserve and the highest point in Singapore.

10. Flying solo with two young children is all about your attitude
By the time our flight home came around I was more than prepared. I had had my crisis of confidence and come out the other side, and was feeling pretty unstoppable. I knew all I needed to do was focus on my children and be with them, rather than attempt to distract them with passive entertainment. The fourteen and a half hours literally flew by. Cherry, Violet and I had a lovely time. It was intense and tiring for me, as neither of them slept more than four hours and I didn't sleep at all. We read stories, talked, played games, drew pictures, went for walks around the aeroplane, and just generally enjoyed the experience.
We were sat very near a couple with a nine-month-old baby and a four-year-old, both of whom slept and watched TV for the entire flight. The couple certainly looked well-rested at Heathrow, whereas I suspect I did not, but I am pretty sure I had the better experience for having shared all of it consciously with my children.

And here's a bonus.

11. There really is no place like home. Singapore is stunning, beautifully lush and abundant, a proud and noble country with heritage and history. The flora and fauna is breathtaking and the climate is pretty hard to beat, as long as you are near a swimming pool or other water source. But there is nowhere like England and flying back across our green and pleasant land really did bring a lump to my throat.

Cherry and Violet took a while to settle back and all of us experienced far more jet lag on our return than we had over there. We had a couple of weeks of staggeringly early starts even by our early standards, before life slowly settled back to normal. Only our trip really has left a mark on all of us. We are markedly closer as a family and we have all grown in confidence.

I feel particularly enriched for the experience, with much more of a can-do attitude and sense of self-reliance. Cherry's thirst for adventure has been well and truly ignited, as has Violet's although I am not sure how much of our trip my younger daughter will remember, at such a tender age.

What's really lovely is that they enjoyed the journey as much as the destination. I love their zest for life and their delight in things that could be seen as so very ordinary and almost tedious.

Every time we spy an aeroplane in the sky I ask where they think it's going and they both instantly reply 'Singapore!' Then Cherry will look wistful and say 'Mummy, can we go back to Singapore?' and I tell her that yes, of course we will go again, and lots of other places too.

This is just the start.

The walk to preschool

 Cherry has been going to a small Montessori preschool since last September. She goes three mornings a week, which gives our weeks together a shape and a routine.

The highlight of this is the walk to preschool. It's held in a church hall about a mile away, an easy walk down residential roads crossing one busier road, with a few good hills.

We are all early risers so getting out of the door in time is never a problem and our morning routine is predictable and fun. Cherry rides her little balance bike and I push Violet in the buggy, as although she's capable of the walk, it would be hard going getting us there in less than 90 minutes. As it is the journey can take up to 40 minutes and that suits me fine as it's just the best part of the day, by far.

We talk. We have names for each road - the straight road, the leafy road, the white flowers road, the road with the shiny stones. We observe and notice every slight difference. We discuss each difference in great detail, from the colours of the leaves to the goings-on in people's gardens.

We've passed exciting sights such as a broken down car, a toilet in somebody's garden, a cement mixer, a digger, a scratchy cat, several friendly cats, mushrooms growing up a tree stump, autumn blooms and berries, 'naked' winter trees and stoical evergreens, crocuses, snowdrops, daffodils, blossom, bluebells and now we're spoiled for choice as gardens explode into full bloom.

Sometimes there's roadworks and we have to find a different place to cross, and we talk about this in huge detail and speculate as to the reasons for the works. We watch red buses stop and pick up passengers and wonder where they might be going. We analyse the weather, ponder the chances of rain, wind, thunder, lightning, sunshine, snow and ice.

Cherry learned to read most letters in the alphabet by stopping at road signs and tracing the letters with her fingers, gradually recognising more and more of them. Sometimes we'll pass marks on the pavement or road and brainstorm as to how they got there. We talk about the seasons, identify cars (she can spot a Mini a mile off) and stop to pet passing dogs. Cherry has an excellent grasp of road safety, thanks to the amount of times we have crossed each familiar road and gone through the familiar routines of looking for cars. She tells me when it's safe to cross.

The walk is the same every day, but every day it's different. Something new will be waiting for us. Something will have changed.

I honestly think Cherry learns and absorbs more in these journeys than she does in preschool itself! (I don't mean any disrespect to preschool there, just that the rich opportunities a short walk offers really cannot be reproduced or bettered indoors) Violet joins in with our chats but mainly it's a time for Cherry and I.

I often give myself a hard time for not spending enough time one-on-one with Cherry, with Violet I obviously have the hours while Cherry is at pre-school but time alone with my older daughter is scarce. Until I thought about the walks to preschool and realised, that's our one-on-one time.

When I think about what I will miss when the inevitable happens (at the moment I'm completely in denial about Cherry and school) these little walks will be top of the list.

Living Arrows 13/52

Clearly I was being a bit optimistic in writing about our Easter plans! Three days in and these two have run me ragged. We've seen friends and had some fun but there's also been a fair bit of fighting and screaming (from them) and far too much yelling (from me) (and them!).

I absolutely loathe myself when I yell at my children and have seriously worked so hard to keep it to a bare minimum. Ideally I would never yell at all as I do recognise it's pointless, and it models awful behaviour and habits to them. 

I certainly yell infrequently, and I never shout abuse or insults or say anything I would regret later (although once a long time ago I told Cherry 'I'm sick of you!' and for weeks later she kept repeating 'I'm sick of you!' in an irate tone to her toy pig and I felt JUST AWFUL about it. I did apologise to her and tell her that I shouldn't have said it and it was wrong and not true, but safe to say I've learned my lesson and have never said anything since that could come back to haunt me). 

But sometimes I do get to a stage whereby I can't help but get snappy and raise my voice. Afterwards I feel beside myself with guilt and like I'm the worst mother in the world and the only parent ever who yells at her kids.

The worst thing about yelling is I know it's pointless. I don't yell because I think it will get my children to do what I am asking them to do or because I want their attention and I don't have it. I do it because I've become so frustrated or irritated or ground down or wound up or just so exhausted I feel I have no other outlet but to yell. 

It's not their fault I don't always have the energy to stay calm and patient and it's not their fault that I struggle to contain their emotions on top of my own sometimes. I'm not exactly yelling for their benefit either! I don't think any of us really believe that yelling is a useful way of communicating with our children - some people do say 'it's the only way to get them to listen' but I don't find that to be the case. The only way to get my children to listen is to get down on their level, make eye contact and speak to them in a manner and tone they can understand and relate to.

All yelling does is upset all of us. Essentially it's me having a tantrum, which is something at 34 I should really be past by now. I hope one day I will be. I hope one day very soon! And I will keep working towards that goal in the mean time. 

But I do think it's important that I acknowledge and move on rather than beat myself up for it for days on end because that helps nobody either. Honestly, parenting is like some kind of crash-course in all the life skills I didn't even know I was lacking! 

What am I other than a mum?

I thought about my Instagram feed this morning (I mean who doesn't? I'm cathybussey1 if you want to come over and say hi) and about the pictures I post. Mainly of the children, some shots of flowers, nature. More of the children. Quite a few pictures of my feet. The odd selfie, but mainly if I'm in the picture it's with one of the girls.

I really hate all the fuss about selfies. Why shouldn't we take pictures of ourselves? Why shouldn't I take pictures of myself?

All I can see in my IG feed is a mother. Somebody who expresses herself through her children.

It's still self-expression of course because I share pictures of my children to say something about myself. You're still saying something about yourself with what you curate and choose to share.

I feel like being more honest about this. I want to share pictures of myself because ultimately my photos are saying something about me. So why don't I just come out from the shadows and say whatever it is I want to say myself?

At the moment as it happens I don't have a lot to say that doesn't involve my children. Which is I suppose something to say in itself.

I don't really know who I am other than a mother at the moment. I feel a bit at a crossroads. Violet won't start preschool until September 2016 when Cherry starts school, so I have another 18 months at home with one or both children full-time ahead. This feels like a long time, but the last 18 months have passed in the blink of an eye.

I am not entirely sure what I will do once I stop working at the end of April. I haven't not worked since I was 13 and the thought of not having an income or gainful employment or an identity outside the home is quite scary. Even the minimal amount of work I've done since Violet has added up to some form of identity. There have still been moments of excitement when emails about interesting jobs and commissions pop into my inbox. Confidence boosts at a good job done well, and a bit to talk about other than the children.

I will still write for the Telegraph and blog for Velo Vixen, a lovely women's cycling clothing website (please do go and check them out!) but other than that, everything is pretty open. And writing for newspapers and websites again relies on having something to talk about, although clearly there is plenty to say around having children.

If I'm honest I don't even know where this blog is going. I haven't really given it extensive thought. It's hard to give anything extensive thought these days, my children occupy most of the mental space I have available as much as the physical.

If I was reading this pre-children I'd think, how sad. Turning into 'just a mum' was something I dreaded and swore would never happen. Even after I had Cherry and knew I would never return to full-time work, not working was never an option. Even while pregnant with Violet and in the early days of her life, it never occurred to me that I wouldn't get 'back to normal' as quickly as I felt I did after Cherry.

I always thought I'd retain my own identity and having children wouldn't change me. That's flawed in many ways, but humans do resist change. I most certainly have changed, but in moving away from a previous identity I am still unsure as to my new one.

Most of the time being 'just a mum' is enormously fulfilling. I have chosen this and I have no regrets. But every now and again I will get a morning to myself (such as now, when I'm in bed with a cold while Noel takes the children to the park because apparently when they have colds they are BURSTING WITH ENERGY as opposed to when they don't have colds and are BURSTING WITH ENERGY) and the list of things I want to do is as long as my arm, but also quite short.

There's loads I want to do - start a book, a blogpost, a project - but when am I going to get time to finish it? If I'm going to do something for myself I want it to be meaningful and enriching, but what can I do that's meaningful and enriching in a few hours and before you know it, the children are home, climbing up onto my bed, bursting with energy, demanding kisses and cuddles and wanting to tell me all about their adventures, and I of course want to listen, because I am 99.9% just a mum and 99.9% happy with it.