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boy on haystackWhile I very rarely do reviews on my blog (I think this is only the fourth in four years!), I was delighted to undertake a review visit Bluebells Farm and Dairy this week as it’s somewhere we have loved as a family for many years.

Having seen it grow from a small dairy with a playpark to the amazing adventure farm it is today, Bluebell’s will always be quite close to my heart as we have so many special memories of fun times each visit. Plus, you know, ice cream (totally worth the drive just for that).

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Little town of Bethlehem… Mary’s blog

little town of BethlehemI know I haven’t posted in a while, but things have been hectic as we’ve been travelling around so much. Happily, we captured some wonderful images of the little town of Bethlehem for Instagram, but the WiFi has been awful so I feel totally behind on my blog and my social media.

Anyway, I return bearing Great News: I’ve had the baby! I always love reading other people’s birth stories online and am so glad to be finally writing mine – it was fairly eventful!

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Diary of a Class Bear

Diary of a class bearMonday:

Well, today pretty much blew. Mrs T forgot to take me out of my bag when the latest in a long line of snotty kids returned me to school, so I spent the whole day in a dark, scary place (and I’m not just talking about my mind). The bag smelt like used socks – in fact, a cage would have been preferable actually. Plus I was still wearing my woolly hat and felt as hot as the fiery pits of hell. If my friends at the factory could see me now, they’d be (attempting to) turn in their production line.

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Letter to my husband from across the drift

letter to my husbandI’ve heard people say they knew their partner would make a wonderful father, but the truth is I didn’t really know what sort of parent either of us would be. I guessed that you, my husband, would be funny and silly, plus you had values I admired and wanted very much to be a dad.

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The Stay at Home Mum Returns (To Work)

sunset over fieldsI’ve been a bit… contemplative recently. Perhaps it’s with my biggest little one starting school (still not sure how this happened as I’m sure I just gave birth to him), and the newborn fog from my youngest’s arrival finally lifting. He is one and a half, but yep, it’s only just starting to shift. Anyway, I have found myself thinking about me and my life and the future, and I suppose, at the risk of sounding a bit indulgent: who I am.

The upshot of all of this is that I’ve decided to go back to work. I’ve been a stay at home mum for four years. Four years! It was absolutely what I wanted and what worked for our family, but I’m not sure it is right for me any more.

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dad helping boy to ride bikeNow, I am of course delighted that my children have a great relationship with their dad, it is how it should be. And I know there have been many times when I have been the ‘preferred parent’ and how well my husband has always taken it. I know that our children get different things from both of us, and so it stands to reason that sometimes they will display a leaning towards him or me.


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Life is too short to make your own pesto

mum and toddler boy smiling happily at home

For the last two months there has been a courgette languishing in the bottom of our fridge. It is not always the same courgette. Every so often I accept that the old courgette is no longer useable and I replace it with a new one. I have been partaking in this wasteful ritual because I am convinced that one day, I will make sugar free courgette cake for my children. But secretly I know I will not make sugar free courgette cake for my children because I currently have neither the time or inclination to make sugar free courgette cake for my children.

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On being a mum of boys

I’ve heard some funny stuff about being a mum exclusively to boys. Some of it genuinely funny – like how they will apparently talk only in grunts for a few of their teenage years, and take over the house with game stations and dodgy smelling deodorants. And some of it a bit, well, odd. Like how my family would be complete if we had a girl – err, no thanks, I can barely cope with the children I’ve got without throwing another in to mix – boy or girl.

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Toy Bonfire

A poem about my deepest, darkest fantasy…

The mother looked around, rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh
The clutter filling up the room could almost make her cry
She looked at all the books, the games, the eleven million toys
The big bright noisy plastic that is made for girls and boys

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Dear Preschool

Two years ago my husband and I decided to look into some part time childcare for our little boy.  I had heard lovely things about our local preschool but being nervous, worried and all those other things I can be as a mother, I just couldn’t imagine him feeling independent enough to be happy in the care of non-family members. He was funny and lively at home, but otherwise quite shy and it felt like a big leap for him to be in a setting without me.

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Why I Hate Dinnertime

I’m not going to write this as an open letter to dinnertime because I realise that as more of a hellish entity than a person, it will not reply, thus furthering my rage and feelings of hopelessness towards it.

I’m just going to rant about it generally on here because I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this. Let’s hope so anyway – misery loves company, right?

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