Marmalade chicken and dancing trees

Marmalade chicken and dancing trees

Wellies and mittens! Really ready to pack both away…

The weather has been so awful recently, and I for one am getting a bit fed up of the rain (when will it stop?), although the wind has prompted some really funny conversations with Elliot – “Mummy, the trees are dancing!”

I can’t wait for spring to arrive!

At times like this my thoughts turn to warm comforting food. It makes me remember dinners at my grandmother’s house, and, being designated keeper of her recipe book these days, I have looked up her recipe for marmalade chicken (delicious!)

I’ll be serving this up with some mash and green veg later today.

The recipe is over on my other blog, which hasn’t been updated in SO long (sorry!) but while you’re there you can also find recipes for suitable desserts (lemon layer pudding perhaps?)

Yum! How long until dinner time??

Tasty Tuesdays on

My Rainbow


I’ve been wanting to post about this for so long but couldn’t find the right words.

I’ve also been afraid of what others may think about me making this public, but in my heart of hearts I know that this is the right thing to do.

I’m talking about miscarriage. That horrid thing that I honestly naively thought would never happen to me. Hadn’t I already managed to produce one amazing little boy? Surely my risks were so low as to be discounted?

Then in 2012, I had two miscarriages. In the space of four months.

While this was happening to me, I scoured blogs and websites searching for someone who this had happened to, and who had gone on to conceive and have a healthy birth.

Luckily others had been brave enough to post, and write quite detailed accounts of their experiences. This provided such support to me in my time of need so in a moment of solidarity I thought I should do the same.

Miscarriage is singularly (actually in my case, twice!) the most terrifying experience I have ever gone through.

I felt completely lost although at the same time horribly aware of where I was and what was happening; alone despite all the support from my husband and family; in simple terms just utterly, utterly broken. I was at the very murky bottom of a deep deep well unable to climb up the sides into the open air.

I know miscarriage is rarely anyone’s “fault”, but seriously, when it’s happening to you, all you can do is blame yourself. I remember apologising so many times to my husband, which didn’t help either of us really.

The support I received was second to none, however, and really helped me climb out of that well. My husband excelled himself in just knowing when to be silent and when to hug. My family were amazing and so many friends and colleagues were able to tell me that they too had had miscarriages and all had turned out ok. I know that some find it incredibly hard to empathise, some don’t see a miscarriage as a loss, and as there are really no visible physical injuries I think some find it hard to know what to do or indeed how much it hurts.

Our first miscarriage happened while we were on holiday, so we had to find a local hospital urgently. All the staff we met there were amazing. They saw us promptly, held my hand, checked my husband was ok, and told us how common this is, and how it wasn’t our fault.

The second time, three months later, we were at home, and the local hospital staff here weren’t as supportive – it’s a bigger hospital and they just seemed to be more dismissive. Or maybe it was just the person who met us, she barely looked like she was school leaver age and just could not empathise with my devastation. I’ve therefore seen two sides to how victims of miscarriage are treated, and can see why some people can take a lifetime to recover.

By far my biggest comfort was Elliot, who at only 20 months was happily unaware of the huge events taking place around him but seemed to know that mummy needed extra cuddles. I had always wanted a specific age gap between my children, and suddenly it was getting bigger and bigger. This for me was really hard to come to terms with – of course now I think the age gap is perfect, but at the time it seemed like an additional blow each time. Everything was taken completely out of our control. I learnt that these things can’t really ever be planned; they are miracles.

I know I’m one of the lucky ones as we now have Alexander, our ‘Rainbow Baby’, who in time will grow to know just how very special he is to me, just like his brother. He has healed a big hole in my heart, and made us complete. However, I never want to forget the ones we lost, and therefore as soon as I can I’ll be getting into training mode for the 2015 Blenheim Triathlon* and raising money for the Miscarriage Association.

*I’ve decided after years of competing as part of a team, I now want to go it alone and do all three elements myself. This is no mean feat as I’ve not done anything like this before and obviously haven’t been running or anything for quite some time. I’ll be updating the blog as I get this organised! I’ve learnt not to attempt it while I’m still feeding A, so that’s why I’m not doing the 2014 one. Watch this space 🙂

Siblings – February

Siblings – February


It’s time for the monthly Siblings photo (part of Dear Beautiful Boy’s linky) and I must say it’s come round fast.

This month has been one of finding our feet as a family of four, and if I’m really honest I’ve been loving it.

The boys are definitely noticing each other more. Elliot is really caring towards Alexander, and although still doesn’t want to sit next to him for photos (he has a irrational fear of being photographed, not sure why!) he does like to stroke him, and give him goodnight kisses.

Alexander is in awe of Elliot. His eyes fix on him whenever he’s around. It’s so cute!

I’m really enjoying watching these two learn about each other, and honestly, every day I feel like the luckiest mummy around. My boys are amazing!

dear beautiful

See my other Siblings posts:



Cut the trivia

Dear Elliot, and Alexander,

Around this time seven years ago, your Daddy and I went on our very first date! We’d met a few times before then with friends around, and had agreed to “go out” on the 26 January so that is our anniversary properly, but our first date alone came later.

We met in Freuds in Jericho for drinks. I got there to find your Dad already there, reading a paper and drinking a beer. He bought me a drink (G&T I think) and then we got chatting. I think we were both quite nervous.

As you will know by the time you’re old enough to read this, your Dad is very knowledgeable about lots of things (he’s fantastic in a pub quiz situation, which is good because I am not and prefer to concentrate my efforts in writing the answers neatly on the paper… we make a good team!) Well, on this occasion he had decided that he didn’t want the conversation to stray into “trivia” sharing, and it wasn’t long before he showed me that he’d written, in tiny letters, on the inside of his left wrist “CUT THE TRIVIA”

I think I knew right then that this was the man I would spend my life with. It also helped when we went round to Pierre Victoire in Little Clarendon Street for dinner and he paid!

So, seven years, a house, a wedding, two children, and a whole lot of fun later, here we are.

I love you Mr P.


Don’t we look young!