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!

Secret post #1 9.4.13

This is the first of a series of secret posts I have written over the last few months. We are actually now 18 weeks pregnant, but I’d like to take you back to when we had just found out :-


This post is so secret I haven’t even typed it. It exists in a notebook, written in pencil.

You see I have something to keep secret for a little while longer, but I don’t want to forget how I feel right now.

On Sunday, 7th April 2013, we found out we are pregnant! I think that makes me 5 weeks along so far – too soon to tell anyone but not too soon to celebrate quietly on our own with a touch of anxiety thrown in…

Sadly, in the last 9 months we had the misfortune to go through two miscarriages. I haven’t blogged about this as although I wanted to, there is so much of a taboo about the subject still, and I guess an element of admitting to others that you’re trying, and failing, to get pregnant was a bit off-putting.

However, here we are and our fingers are firmly crossed that this little miracle decides to stick around.

Hang on in there little bean. Together I am sure we can make it!

Lots of love,
Mummy x

Enough already…

Dear Mr Weather Man,

You seem to be having some difficulties remembering what weather should go with what season this year. May I just remind you that it is now April. APRIL. That is, the fourth month of the year. It is now time, in fact we are somewhat late already, for SPRING!!!

Remember that season? The one between Winter and Summer? The one where we get to stop wearing tights and gloves and hats and looking like a rather weathered Michelin man, and start thinking about hunting out the sandals and floaty clothes ready for Summer?

I mean, I love Winter, I really do. I love wrapping up warm, I own far too many scarves and gloves, and to be honest lounging about in cosy pyjamas wrapped up in blankets is one of my favourite past times, but the novelty wore off sometime back in January and it’s now April. APRIL!!

Come on! It’s time for little lambs to be frolicking in the fields, doing that weird and wonderful springy jumpy thing they do. It’s time for little chicks to be born, and for daffodils and crocuses to sprout up with no danger of being lost in another snow flurry. 

I want to be able to take my child out for a walk without having to have the ‘please wear a hat or your head may fall off’ debate, and actually be able to go to the park and play on the swings without him screaming because he’s so cold. I want to be able to sit outside, and maybe actually restore some normality to our rather neglected and weather beaten garden.

We’re done with Winter now. We had lots of fun in the snow, and it was lovely to have it around for a bit but I think I speak for everyone when I say that we could really do with a bit or sunshine now. 

Is it too much to ask? I think not.

Yours sincerely,

a very cold Mummy xx

P.S. Are you kidding me? As I’ve been typing this, it’s actually started snowing outside. Again!

Boy in the snow

Lovely, but chilly. We want less of this…

Boy and ball

Elliot in New York last July. More of this please…

Lessons in being lovely: It’s the little things

Dear Elliot,

I thought I’d start some posts to give you some pointers about being generally lovely when you’re all grown up and in a relationship of your own. It feels strange writing this now while you’re still little and currently asleep in your cot upstairs but I wanted to let you know the things you can learn from your Daddy.

The first is quite fitting as it takes me back to my very first Valentines’ Day with your Dad in 2007. We had really only just met about a month before and were still in the early days, finding our feet and learning about each other.

I didn’t want to let Valentines’ Day pass without marking it in some way, but it felt too early for elaborate displays of affection, and I’m sure you’ll be aware by the time you read this, that this really isn’t ‘us’ anyway! Instead I just found a card I liked (I think it may in fact have had monkeys on or something equally non-valentinesy) and popped a message in it about how excited I was to be spending time with him, and slipped it into his bag one evening after work. We then went to our respective flats and I sent him a quick message telling him to look in his bag, and then got a reply back telling me how much he’d liked the card.

The next day he presented me with a little gift. He’d bought me some hand-warmers as I was going to the Baltics with work (in February, in the snow), and said they were to keep me warm while I was away from him. I still have a couple of them left, in a little box of memories.

So, little Elliot, take hints from this and always remember it’s the little things that count, not the big huge bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolates. Those hand warmers were some of the nicest things I’ve been given, as they were so thoughtful.

Lots of love, Mummy xx

My handmade Valentines' Day card this year

I remember, I remember…

Dear Elliot,

Today I haven’t stopped thinking of the day we came home from hospital with you as a tiny 5 day old baby. And why is that I hear you ask?

Let me take you back to the 18th December 2010:

You and I had been in hospital due to my silly blood pressure (which coincidentally was fine as soon as you were delivered) for 5 days after your birth on the 13th. The day came to bring you home and the snow decided to pay a visit too. Oxfordshire was covered in thick snow, which meant we only made it to my parents house instead of our home.

I love this picture of you all bundled up ready to face the cold.

First car ride

First car ride

I remember wrapping you up in a blanket and laying you down on the sofa at Grandmum and Grampy’s house. You were so tiny.

I remember struggling through the snow to get home the following day, and then Daddy carrying you across the road outside our house.

I remember leaving you asleep in the car seat in the living room, while all around was silent and white, and sitting staring at you, all the while thinking we were the luckiest people in the world at that very second.

I love snow.



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