Every morning I wake up to the stomp-stomp-stomp of The Little Man coming into our bedroom.
Every morning I keep my eyes closed tight hopping The Little Man will come on board and peacefully continue his sleep lovingly cuddled next to me, for blissful priceless extra minutes of sleep before my alarm goes off. And I start the snoozing tango for another 15 minutes.
Every morning The Little Man cuddles next to me. In fact he insists on sharing my pillow.
Every morning he keeps trying to wake me up using all his increasingly sophisticated tactics: kisses, hugs, smart questions, telling me about his dreams (always interesting!) but I consistently resist properly waking up. I say properly because let’s not kid ourselves I am bright AWAKE as soon as I hear the stomp-stomp-stomp BUT pretending not to be is my last resistance.
That was until last week.
It’s been a long time, friends, I know.
A month exactly.
I realise from my previous post that I have actually skipped the whole month of May altogether.
Well, there is a french saying that goes “En Mai, fais ce qu’il te plait”.
Which translates into “In May, do whatever you like” (trust me it rhymes better in french).
And apparently in May, there is one thing I liked indulging in – animal print!
You probably think that this is the worst possible excuse to my lack of news over the last month and you would be right. This is my 30somethingdangerously acceleratingtowards40 girl version of the classical “the dog ate my homework”.
But I’d rather talk to you about my animal print love affair than through how hectic the past few weeks have been at ALL levels.
So animal print it is, then, no?
Last week, I woke up to an exceptionally sunny Wednesday morning.
My weather forecast app confirmed that indeed this was going to be a gloriously sunny day with temperatures up to 19 degrees.
With a spring in my step – no pun intended – I jumped into the shower, already planning my outfit du jour: New white dress? Blue summery trousers? Silky top?
In a previous life, in more consistent climates, the 21st March used to mark the beginning of Spring, which is basically code for it-is-almost-SUMMER!
In London though, I learnt to treat it as a non-event, the 4 seasons being inconsistent at best, inexistent at worst , with a very strong over-index on grey, cold and rain (I
often sometimes wonder if the seasons are messed up, why do we end up consistently having they depressing wintery ones….).
Anyway so beyond a date, I learned to rely more on those subtil signs that indicate that spring/summer MIGHT be coming (
sometimes often it doesn’t come at all…SIGH): 1) more than 3 consecutive days of sunshine, 2) temperatures in the sun that creep bravely up to 16-17degrees Celsius, and 3) girls going bare legged* 3) rain periods tend to be restricted to night time or short bursts.
Now if you live London, you can guess what I am going to say next: Spring is HERE!
I am not one for Spring cleaning (more like weekly, seriously trending towards daily cleaning instead) OR Spring wardrobe sorting – I have ONE wardrobe that takes me through whatever season.
But I do have a ritual, or let’s call it a rite of passage to embrace the new season:
This is the very first picture I’ve ever put on this blog of my little family.
When I say picture, I mean
masterpiece drawing, courtesy of The Little Man.
Which happens to be a perfect rendition of our latest holiday: Hubby and The Little Man playing around in the water with what looks like extremely messy/spiky hair, and my unusually slim self (thanks Little Man!) in a 1 one piece swimsuit (you can’t see my belly button!), happily swimming under the water….although I have to admit that when The Little Man first showed this to me, I was horrified that he drew me, lazily lounging in the sun whilst Hubby was doing the playing thing ( jumpy much?). Thankfully the Little Man reassured me that it was me doing the mermaid (a personal favourite I must confess).
Now like I said, this nicely summarises what we have been up to in our latest long haul/ exotic holiday, our first since The Little Man came onboard!
And it was different. Very different.
A few Fridays ago, I had a diner date with my good friend B* at my home.
On D Day, I picked up The Little Man from school and decided to treat him at Pizza Express, the ultimate kid treat!
While he was eating, I texted B to make sure our plans were still on.
I texted**: ” Are we still on tonight?”
She texted back: ” Yes! What time do you want me to be there?”
I replied: ” I am with The Little Man in Pizza Express. So with traffic and all I should be home by 6.30″.
To which she replied: ” Oh! Ok then. I will stop by my place, grab something to eat as well and I get come over for a coffee afterwards I guess?”.
She thought I was inviting her AND wasn’t bothering to provide
some any kind of food.
Au hazard des posts...