Dream reader

The latest blogging 101 challenge was to write a post to your perfect reader. I find this challenging for two reasons; I’ve fallen behind (already!) as the end of this week just got crazy busy for me, and also, wtf?! My perfect reader?

Perhaps it’s because, as I’ve already said, I’m not in it for the hoards of followers and the comments. I want to be a part of something online that’s as meaningful as real life. People I would sit down with and have a coffee and a natter with.

I realise I’m in danger of sounding aloof or high and mighty. I am not. I don’t like change. I don’t like new things. I’m of the opinion that I’ve got enough friends. But then I go and surprise myself, and find out that by actually letting my barriers down and letting people in, they turn out to be pretty awesome and amazing. And I need to do this more often. 

So I guess that’s it, my perfect reader is my friends, old and new, so stick with me, we can do amazing things x


It also said we had to something new, so here’s a picture of some cake we could have with our coffees.


A game of tag.

Today’s homework was to sort out your name and tag line. I chose my name as the original name I wanted was already taken; I’d started adding the hash tag #busymomma to a lot of my tweets, but also found I was growing frustrated with Twitter and its character limitations. I was going to start a busymomma blog, as a lot of my tweets were about what me, big and small were getting up to. But alas no, the name was taken, so I had to think on my feet.

I’m glad I did. Outdoorsmum describes me much better! I’ve enjoyed doing outdoorsy stuff from a young age, and find myself wanting to pass on that enjoyment and introduce my girls to the outdoors. But alongside that, the majority of my time is spent as mum, doing and saying things I never thought I would. I throw down a mean hokey cokey, know
all the words to frozen and give a rather dramatic reading of the gruffalo. It’s refreshing and reassuring to know that there are others out there too.

To me, to you.

Alright, not really my first blog, but the first as part of the blogging 101 course being run this month. In my original first post I tried to identify the reasons for my blog, why I was writing it, which I wasn’t too sure on. But since posting 5 or so blogs I’m coming to realise what it is that I enjoy about them.

When I was 10 my best friend and I would save our pocket money and buy pens and notebooks and interview several, patient parents in our young, journalistic careers. And this feels similar, reporting upon my days in a light hearted way. So it’s not for follows, or comments, it’s to get things written down, maybe not even as they happen, because life gets busy sometimes.

There are two big reasons why my life gets busy and hectic at times, and that is big and small, my daughters. Big one is 5 years old, and small one is 18 months. They are my world. My loves. My everything. And my blog tells of our adventures, our ups and downs along the way as they learn about life and teach me a thing or two along the way … join us??!!

Dinner and a movie

I’ve signed up for the blogging 101 course, and am rather impatiently waiting for it to start. But then it hit me, I could still write this even though the course hasn’t started yet. Sometimes I see things specifically in black and white, and lack the multicoloured, unrestricted viewpoint of youth. Which is odd, considering how much of my time is spent around a 5 year old.

And it is she who joined me on Friday for a lovely day out to the cinema and shops. We live in the sticks, so it’s a 30 minute car journey to the nearest big town with cinema and chain retailers. I haven’t been to the cinema in 2 years, so I was quite excited, even though it wasn’t exactly my choice of movie. And it was only her second time to the cinema, and this time she was allowed popcorn! So good times all round.

Then a trip out for lunch, which I was able to enjoy whilst it was hot as 1 year old was in nursery, allowing me to focus on myself for a tiny little while. It was lovely to have the time, entirely focused upon big one, to indulge her and listen to her world, and find out what’s going on.

And that’s just it. As much as I would have preferred to have been climbing a mountain with her, or taking her climbing, for her a trip to the cinema is equally exciting. It’s that fine balance between introducing her to the life we try to lead and the life a 5 year old needs to lead. We’ll get there. I hope!

Mrs know it all.

My best friend is expecting her first child in April next year, and whilst I’m sharing in her excitement, I’m also finding it hard not being ‘that friend’ that knows everything, issues prescriptive advice and believes her children are absolutely perfect. But my friend has no other friends who have kids, so she is looking to me for advice. So I thought I’d get it all written down here.

To be honest, the first few days home from hospital with your firstborn aren’t too hard, especially if the dad is around and can have some time off work. He can take shifts and let you to sleep once baby is nursed, or even take a shower or have a bath. Luxury. There are two adults vs one baby. Someone can be doing something productive whilst the other watches the baby. Even fighting with a scary poopy nappy at 3am seems easier when there’s two of you involved.

But then there comes a time when you need to leave the house. Food shopping. Drs appointments. Registering the birth. And this is when it hit me, 5 years ago, that life had changed. Staying at home, in our new baby bubble, we did fine. But venturing out into the world, a world that doesn’t stop or change just because you did something like having a baby, that’s when I realised that it would never be the same again.

We were 20 minutes late for our appointment with the registrar to register the birth. As we were putting little one in her all in one suit on we were hit with a waft of poop. It required an immediate, complete outfit change. And damn it, she did another one, about 25 minutes later as we sat down in the registrars office after adamantly apologising several times for being late. And it was a stinker.

I can’t wait to meet my friends little lady, but I need to allow her the space to make her own story, and look forward to hearing all her disaster tales. After all, babies are resilient little beings, it’s us adults that add the stress and social awkwardness to these situations.

A cuppa and a natter.

Tonight I sat down with a lovely young lady and was able to catch up with all the gossip. Important things, like what Alexandra (bff) is getting for Christmas, why Olaf is the best snowman ever and how the robin red breasts are actually Santas little messengers checking you’re still being good in the run up to Christmas.

The young lady in question was my 5 year old daughter, who is most delightful (obviously I’m biased). But whenever she stays with my parents or babysitters, everyone always says how wonderful she is. So instead of rushing around doing housework and getting frustrated with all of her cries for attention, tonight we kicked back, grabbed a cuppa and some colouring pens and coloured in some delightful festive scenes. And it was wonderful.

Christmas presents. Better than any you could ever buy.

With all the commercialism surrounding the forthcoming festivities I find that I need to take the time and remind myself of what it’s really all about. It’s not about getting little one 1D concert tickets like all her friends, or a new pair of lelly kelly school shoes. It’s about the little things, some of which are a token annual event, and some of which come out of nowhere and surprise me.

Christmas songs. I love them. And I have my favourite. Maybe it’s because I like that the radio stations have to decide to play the unedited version and risk the backlash of an unhappy public and ‘that bad language’. Although little one is slowly learning the words to last Christmas and sings ‘special’ in such a special way.

Food. It’s like Christmas gives you a free pass to eat way more than you’d ever think is possible. There’s always room for a second mince pie. Or a handful of celebrations out of the tub.

School plays. I don’t start properly feeling the Christmas spirit until I’ve seen little one in her school play. This year we were treated to a whole school production (a change from the norm) which started with a delightful version of frozens ‘let it go’ cleverly changed to ‘let it snow’.

Craft. Lots of it. Covered in glitter and sent home for our delight. And a calendar that’s been made that is totally unusable and doesn’t fit in with the kitchen colour scheme, but you’re guilted into displaying all year round by those puppy dog eyes.

Mulled cider. This was a new discovery last year, but I do enjoy sitting down in the evening with a lovely warm glass, goblet even, full of it, and feel the warming embrace of sleepiness take over.

Present wrapping. A whole evening is put aside for this task. Sherry is poured. Wrapping is commenced. Husband is shooed away as his ‘help’ is more of a hindrance. Christmas music is played loudly. More sherry. Tricky shaped presents to wrap prove vexing. More sherry. Quality of wrapping deteriorates as volume of sherry consumed increases. Vow to get everyone gift vouchers next year.

Christmas lights. This is a new one. My 18 month old (baby!) takes absolute delight in driving round town when it’s dark and looking at all the lights. The cries of ‘mama, noo (look)’ do draw thin though, as she continues them until I acknowledge the current set of lights she is looking at. As soon as she receives that acknowledgement, immediately there’s a further suprised cry of ‘mama, noo! and amazement that yet another household would don such luminous decorations.

The christingle service. This is a lovely local service on Christmas Eve. We go into church at 4pm, when it’s still light, and when we come out 30 minutes later it’s dark and you head home for a cuppa and a mince pie. The Sunday school perform the nativity, which is a joyful shambles of older kids not wanting to read and be centre stage and younger kids desperately pushing each other out of the way and attempting the loudest ‘baa’ known to man. This year should be especially brilliant, as my 18 month old has the role of 1st lion. Brilliant. And there’s always the sketchy one who tries to set the vicar alight with their christingle ‘accidently’.

Christmas morning. The excitement. The squeals. The delight that Rudolph and Santa enjoyed their snacks. The all morning breakfast that rolls into lunch. The acceptance that ‘mum’s having a sherry’ at 10am. And bless her, little one gets so excitement from each present she has to open it and play with it immediately, meaning that present opening lasts at least until 4pm.

After putting this all down in decidedly feeling more Christmassy already 🙂
Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas. This is a slight tongue in cheek view of it, aided by a goblet of mulled cider as mentioned above.

Merry Christmas.