Great Expectations

At 8am I was lying in bed, awake, thinking. Actually, thinking is a far too generous a word for what I was doing.

To be totally honest, I was a little disturbed that I was awake at 8am. I had expected that on this day (complete with the extra hour of sleeping goodness thanks to the clocks going backwards) that I would still be sleeping soundly, making up for all the lost hours during the week.

As my bleary eyes stared across the room, I found myself looking at the copious amount of books on my bookshelf, telling myself I have got to stop living as if I actually run a library.(Mental side note: must donate more books to charity)

I saw a book that I haven't opened in years. It was a gift from a dear friend. With this gift, she introduced me to the wonder and magnificence of Michael Leuing.

One of the most profound poems that has stuck with me through the years was this one about expectations.

It's so challenging. 

Perhaps it's just me, but perhaps it's not. You know those times when you have worked really hard on a work project or you have put so much effort into planning an event and you kind of, sort of, hoped or expected someone to notice and give you a little nod of appreciation or a little pat on the back? 

But what happens when the moment comes and goes, and not even a 'thank you' has been uttered? At the very least, it makes you realise the reason you were doing it in the first place.

Unmet expectations - "give us a stray dog when we expect congratulations". 

Sometimes hard to take but maybe, somehow, good for us all in the long run.

I love being kept on my toes, to expect the unexpected! It has a way of keeping us real and creates a character and strength within us that we didn't know we had.

So here's to the storms, the dreams, the music and the sunshine that is to come!

Much love x 

To begin

So as you can probably tell, it's been a while since i have written. I honestly have no idea where the last year has gone. If i had to guess, it would be somewhere between the realms of a crazy-busy-mental work life, a little bit of travel (a lot of jet lag) and not so much sleep. 

And so, in light of the beautifully profound words of William Wordsworth, I have decided to make anew (again).

It's as simple and as complex as that.

I will begin!

Begin. What does that actually look like?

begin
bɪˈgɪn/
verb
1. perform or undergo the first part of (an action or activity).
synonyms: start, set about, go about, embark on, launch into, get down to, take up, turn one's hand to, undertake, tackle; initiate, set in motion,institute, inaugurate, get ahead with;
informal:get cracking on, get going on;
formal: commence

To me, it looks a little like hard work and it seems that sometimes the first step may even be the hardest, the longest and take the most courage. 

For me it is writing; letters, children's books, novels, articles > anything really. I will wipe the dust from my trusty laptop and get the coffee brewing and try to somehow find the time to sit back, breathe again and let the words and ideas flow - so please forgive the rustiness as i get my little groove back. 

Much love & loads of kisses x

Post Holiday Blue-ness

Technically speaking, I'm not sure if i even qualify for being allowed to have the Post Holiday Blues; I mean, I haven't 'officially' even been on a holiday. Nonetheless, i'm feeling it. To save time and to allow me to wallow just a little longer, let's just call it a Working-Abroad-Occupational-Hazard.

As i sit here, in my super attractive sweatpants, 26 thermal base layers and my trusty pair of uggs, I am reminded of two things; 1. that the irony of actually having a tan but having to cover it up with a million layers is almost unspeakable, and 2. that I never learnt how to turn on the central heating so I must sit here and contemplate life whilst watching my breath appear as vapour in front of my face. 

These two things alone account for majority of my post holiday blue-ness. That, and the pile of laundry that i have sitting in the middle of my floor, staring incessantly at me. 

I have now moved my freezing body complete with uggs into bed. Is that wrong at 4 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon? Actually don't answer that. Let's just say that as I haven't slept for the past 24 hours due to the taking 4 babies on a plane scenario, it's ok on this occasion. As i pull my duvet up to my chin and flick the switch for my beloved electric blanket, I glance out my window. It's almost completely dark outside! Um, when did winter happen? 

After speaking to a friend this afternoon, they told me that they'd read somewhere that the average recovery time for Post Holiday Blues is 8 days and 22 hours. Ahem, so if this theory is correct, and my mathematics hasn't failed me, I should be good to go, and back to my happy and cheery self next Tuesday at 2pm! Ha, watch this space.

And for those of you who see me before the blues have worn away, i apologise in advance!

Much love and loads of kisses xx

August in a Suitcase

So it seems that it's that time of year again > time to pack up and get myself some sunshine. Call it an occupational hazard if you will, but August for me generally means lots of travel! It means packing and unpacking, flying in and flying back out, a few days here and a few days there, and spending many a day at airports all over the world.

This time next week, it'll be time to fly away to the beautiful blue waters and long sunshiny days. As I am sitting here daydreaming of the sun on my shoulders, the beautiful sandy beaches and the cocktails at the bar, I am jolted back into sobering reality and am reminded that I shouldn't get too carried away as it is after all a 'working holiday'.

Last night, in preparation for my trip, I dredged through the attic to find myself a suitcase that would be suitable in both size and purpose. Sizeable enough to fit 3 weeks worth of clothes in, suitable for all different temperatures and pursuits; and it would have to be self-standing and easy to carry. Let's face it, at any given time, i'm likely to be carrying a child; whilst chasing child; whilst trying to open a water bottle for another child; whilst trying to answer the 56 million random (yet important) questions of another child. With 4 sets of little hands all vying for my attention, my luggage is going to want to be the least of my concerns. 

It is important that you realise however, that i have decided against attaching leashes to all my little people throughout our many airport stints. I think that i'm going to have to rely on my 'death stare' tactic, one that has historically proved to be quite successful amongst small humans. And then, if we make it through the airport with the same number of little people we started with, there is the dilemma of trying the contain these little people in their own seats for 10 hours! I'm exhausted and the hard work technically hasn't even begun yet...

So wish me luck on my little August Adventure! And if my general travel record continues with sustained vigour, no doubt come September, I will have many more (probably traumatic and amusing) tales to tell! 

Much love and loads of sunshine. Have a safe & happy Summer all you Northern Hemispherians out there. See you in September for a wine & a bit of much needed grown-up, intellectual conversation   xx

Your mountain is waiting...

I don't know about you, but my first response to change isn't always that of wide open arms & reckless abandon. I am the kind of girl who loves a good routine and is pretty happy to have a 'plan' for everything > just ask my flatmates! They joke that at times, i even need a plan to make plans. Go figure...

Anyway, earlier this year, I received a phone call that would be certain to change my working world forever. I had been in London for 9 years and had found myself in a super beautiful, very comfortable and totally amazing job. Then one unsuspecting January day, i was offered a new, daunting yet exciting, demanding yet inviting job. In all honesty, my first response was to say no (because that would be easier & far less complicated), but then something in me started wondering if change was actually something my life was in need of. Despite being totally freaked out about the prospect of leaving my lovely, safe job, I took a few moments to articulate what I wanted my life to look like over the next few years.

After much thought and consideration, I decided that even though it was going to be a serious shock to my very relaxed system, I knew I needed to embrace the change that was set before me. I couldn't quite get my head around the logistics of changing jobs, nor could i completely understand the poignantly bittersweet feeling of leaving a job I absolutely adored. All I knew is that I was ready for a new challenge.

I tearfully resigned my beloved post and signed a new contract.

And now I find myself on the eve of this fabulous new frontier. Looking at this (freaking) massive journey set before me, wondering what on earth I have done. And is it here I need to keep reminding myself that my mountain is waiting, and it is well and truly time to get on my way! So off i go, one step at a time, on this new journey of mine.

I don't know what the future holds, but one thing i do know is that I am glad that i took the leap of faith and embraced the opportunity set before me. No doubt, the road will not always be straight, and sometimes it may seem more uphill than down, but oh, the adventures i'm set to have!

Can't wait to see the view x

Anaïs Nin: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

What will our children say

I remember ever so fondly the long road trips taken with my family. We used to strap our 'boogie' boards to the roof and float between seaside towns of beautiful Australia during the glorious sunshiny days of summer. 

On a side note > i actually think they were called Body boards, but the coolness, or lack thereof of the McBride clan meant that we always knew them as Boogie Boards. Please don't judge me, take it up with my parents.

Photo

The anticipation of visiting new and exciting places led to the overused and often sigh inducing question, 'Are we nearly there yet?' Of which the record for best use was me at about 2 minutes into the 6 hour journey and having not even left our street. Needless to say, that phrase was banned from all car trips from that point on. 

But what defined our road trips was the continuously repeated, not super appreciated, music of the parents. In our car, we had 6 cassettes on rotation. We had Neil Diamond, Elton John, Billy Joel, The Carpenters, Bee Gees and some representation from the Beatles. And until the year we all got walkmans for Christmas, we were subject to this extreme punishment of old school songs for hours on end.

Saying this, hindsight allows me to see that most of these songs were actually not bad at all. Lyrically, some were even beautiful!

Let me give you a few super sweet & ultra touchy feely examples...

'I'm all out of love, what am I without you
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong' - Air Supply

'I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day'. - Johnny Nash

'I'm, I'm so in love with you
Whatever you want to do
Is alright with me' - Al Green

'When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes,
I will dry them all
I'm on your side'  - Simon & Garfunkel

And this brings me to my next point. I have the stress...er...privilege of driving 4 little boys to school most days. I do often wonder how the music we listen to in the car shapes their opinion of modern day society.

Kings of Leon got me into a little trouble with 'Sex on Fire'. I didn't fancy the explanation of this one so every time the word sex came up in the song, I sang 'socks' very loudly. So for a little while, I had the whole car load rocking out to "you, your socks are on fire". They did think it was weird to sing about burning feet, but hey, why would i lie?!

Lady Gaga got me into similar strife after being asked what is a disco stick and why would you want to ride one? As did Katy Perry and her girl kissing antics and LMFAO with a very strong opinion of themselves. Once again, the boys wanted to know what 'passion in my pants' meant. And of course, the oh so humble...

'(Ahhhh) Girl look at that body, 

I-I-I work out' 

I am not saying our music is morally corrupt nor am I taking any particular stance on the merit of modern music, I am simply wondering what on earth our children will think of us 30 years down the track.

I suppose we will just have to wait and see. 

x

How {not} to say hello!

Ok, so here is my dilemma > a few days ago a friend came up to say hello. He stretched out his arms for a hug and so with reckless abandon I went in for a hug. The only problem was that he wasn't quite ready for my 'reckless abandon' kind of hug. From an outsiders perspective, i'm pretty sure it looked as if I was trying to crash tackle this guy to the floor.

Thankfully he recovered pre floor landing and we managed to do a little stabilising shuffle/dance kind of thing {all in slow motion of course} and were able resume our pre hug positions. He then took a safety step back and said 'hi'.

Er...awkward!

I still cringe when I replay this trauma in my head, wondering if at any stage in my life I will ever be a normal & non awkward human being. I painfully re-enacted it out to my flatmates when I got home that evening and they literally rolled on the floor in hysterics. And now, what's worse is that this type of 'take advantage' hug has a name > it has now been called the 'Amy'. Ah, how exciting, my moment of trauma has been forever etched in the Stephendale dictionary of terms.

What's worse than this crash-tackle kind of hug though are the memories of 'greetings gone wrong' that this kind of experience evokes. I shudder at the thought of all the times a greeting has gone wrong. Please say this doesn't just happen to me?!?!

Here in England, a greeting can be tricky. We have so many Europeans in the mix that you never know if it's going to be a hug, a one kiss or a two kiss hello! Seriously, I am pretty sure I did not get the memo that states when each of these are appropriate.

Known for my affectionate ways, I tend to want to hug everyone I meet {potentially though, I will reassess the vigour at which I hug in light of the above situation} This hugging affection of mine is not usually a problem unless you go in for the hug and they go in for the kiss and then retreat. Then you have what I like to call the kiss/non hug limbo > where one party is still going in for the lean and the other one has retreated. In which case the non hugger then feels bad and goes in for the hug after the kiss, which just makes it all the more awkward.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, I have another story for you. So imagine my joy when I so beautifully assess that the person is in fact European and wanting a double kiss. All I am going to say is that I have learnt that the most crucial fact to note in these situations is the amount of space one needs to retreat before planting the second kiss. If you get this distance wrong, you then participate in a 'lip graze' kind of experience, which is not ideal and perhaps even more cringe-worthy than the crash tackle hug.

Oh me, oh my!

Feel free to tell me your cringe-worthy moments > I may need to hear them if I am ever going to allow myself back in public again. Until then, I promise to work on my hug technique and vow not to be offended if you stand back and wave 'hello' to me from a safe distance.

Much love & restrained hugs & kisses xoxo