The Gallery: Hands

When I watch him play, I think of the long and bumpy road we've travelled since he started piano; how his confidence has grown as his fingers found the right notes.

His hands aren't big enough to stretch an octave, and yet he's already left me behind; better than I ever was. No longer apprehensive about lessons, but finding his own way and striding ahead.

I think of all the other journeys we've started together: how tightly he held onto my hand when he first went to school, or a party, or swimming lessons or just tried something new like going on a zip wire - and how, slowly the grip loosened until he let go. And I want him to, even if sometimes I feel a touch of sadness when he does because he's growing up so fast.

Of course I'll always be here to hold his hand when he needs me, but I know he has to let go to learn, just as I have to learn to let go.

This week's Gallery theme is Hands.

The Gallery: Family

Betty & Co

I think this is one photo that says family to me: out camping with just what we need - time and space to enjoy being together. Couldn't find any of us all in the same picture though.

I grab hold of family time when I can because my husband is away so much. It's made both of us appreciate the moments we have.

He's not quite as enthusiastic as me about Betty the camper, but I know when we get to a site he can see how much we all gain from keeping it simple for a day or two - away from distractions and the daily grind. Nothing to do except play and explore with the kids.

1978 - Looking thoughtful in flares...

For me it's also a strong, happy link to my family and my childhood. I have such a wonderful mixed bag of memories of camping trips when I was growing up.

I'm hoping our three will too.

The Gallery theme this week is Family.

Day 202 - Shell Seekers

There is something pretty special about taking your children to a place brimming with happy childhood memories.

Every summer without fail we used to go on holiday to a small cottage, a field away from a beautiful beach near Tyrella in Northern Ireland. There was no electricity, we had to draw water from a well and the outside loo was an old sentry box. I remember my granny cooking over an open fire; card games, swingball, sand in my sleeping bag and looking for shells. I LOVED looking for shells. I spent hours on the beach, walking along slowly with my head bowed, searching the tide line.

I must have talked about it a lot, because my enthusiasm seems to have rubbed off on my daughter. So much so that I promised I'd take her to my shell beach when we were over staying with my mum last week.

No amount of miserable weather was going to put her off: she waited by the door, bucket and spade in hand until everyone was ready to go. It was her dad's last day with us before he headed back to Afghanistan, so making the most of the grey day felt like the right thing to do.

We were lucky - we caught a small window of dry weather. Still cold though; but before you could say 'where's my jumper' she was running about in her cozzy.... 

The boys warmed up with some running..

moments later they were jumping waves....in their jeans. Daft loons.

Everything about the beach felt so familiar, and the shells were as good as ever. The kids helped me gather some up for a little project I had in mind. All the time I was scanning the colourful piles, searching for that little, elusive gem of the shell world...

...a COWRIE.

Finding one has always been special, and boy was I excited when I did! No playing it down in front of the kids. It was like finding treasure - I was yelling and waving it about....showing off basically! We found 12 altogether.

On the way back we stopped off to get a tube of glue. My plan was to see what we could make out of our shell collection - another thing I used to love doing. Now it does require a bit of patience, but worth it I think; and after a quick coat of clear nail varnish, this is what we came up with. 

Lovely little reminders of our day on the beach. 

Linking up with Country Kids over at Coombe Mill

and Suzanne's Oldies but Goodies!

Day 199 - Home again, home again....

Jiggety jig. Always a bit of a trek to get back: long queues at the flight check-in, and at security, and then I had to queue again with all the other forgetful eejits waiting to have bags re-checked, because I'd left a tube of UHU glue in my hand luggage.

But it has been a half-term and a half. 

I do feel tired, but definitely not down.

It was so good having him back with us for three days.  I know it meant such a lot to his mum as well, and she really seems to be on mend now.

The time flew by: it was a bit of a whirlwind, but a very uplifting one. Even the unrelenting rain and grey gloom couldn't change that.

I didn't allow myself to feel too sad when he left - as I've said before, it was an unexpected bonus, and the kids have also just picked up where they left off.

His fleeting visit already feels like a bit of a dream, but one that's left me feeling quite focussed on the next few months which I'm happy about, because I know I've let things slip.

I am very good at starting stuff, and not so hot at seeing it through. Exercise is a perfect example: the kettle bell workouts I was doing a few times a week have dwindled to a big fat zero and slinked down the side of my blog; I haven't been running for ages; and after six months my 'comfort eating' excuse is wearing thin.

Being away from home for a spell does help to concentrate the mind though - or maybe it was spending time with my two slim, fit younger sisters who are both studying to be personal trainers. Yes, BOTH of them, can you believe it? Part of me feels inspired, the other part wants to hide in a corner with a bag of Doritos.

Anyway I had a good long think about it all on the way back home and I am going to take a leaf out of their book and try harder. I have some extra motivation to get into better shape too, because I've decided  to take the kids to France in the summer holidays, and quite honestly I don't want to feel like a flump when I'm there.

Time to put the batteries back in the bathroom scales.

Day 196 - Perfect surprise

I love that burst of instant, unbridled enthusiasm you get from kids when you tell them something exciting is about to happen. But (and it's a big but) timing is everything, isn't it. Tell them the surprise too early and you will pay. Their relentless enthusiasm can be like a kind of chinese torture - a drip, drip, drip of (the same) questions about what exactly is happening - and how many days, hours, minutes are there until it does. And you know you've brought it on yourself.

Lots of stuff falls into the 'exciting thing' category - playmates, sleepovers, holidays, a trip to Legoland...I'm sure you know what I mean.  My husband isn't that great at keeping a secret from the kids (you'd think he'd be better, considering what he does)  He has on a few occasions merrily let the cat out of the bag - then gone back to work, leaving me with a child about to spontaneously combust.

I've got a lot better at not spilling the beans, and I've had a big secret. A whopper.  

The kids knew they were going to Northern Ireland for half-term: what they didn't know was their dad was going to join us. 

It's all been very last minute - he was given a few days of compassionate leave because his mum hasn't been well. Thankfully she's much better.

Now my plan was to get through the journey to Belfast before I told them. But I couldn't help myself, I was itching to say something. 

I felt this huge wave of relief when I finally managed to pin them all in the car. And it just came out.

OH it was so wonderful to see their faces light up - SUCH a brilliant bit of news to be able to tell them.

A very, very special moment.

But I still had seven hours of travelling to go.

With hindsight I should have held off - but honestly, I was as excited as them.

We did have more than a day longer to wait than I'd thought - army transport can be pretty unpredictable. They were bouncing off the walls by the time he turned up.

Such an unexpected treat to be together again, and his mum was over the moon to see him. 

It felt 'normal' unbelievably quickly. I think that's because we know we've only got a few days and we're away from home and the routine. There is an advantage in meeting up somewhere neutral, although we have to shift around a lot here because both our families live in Northern Ireland.

I know it'll be ok when he goes, because we've not had the usual weeks and weeks of build up - and this time together is a bonus. That's the way I'm looking at it. 

We've had long enough to whip up the youngest into a state of hyper-excitement by promising her a trip to the beach.....and then we went out for a meal, leaving her to plague my mum.

'When  are we going Granny? Look at my swimming costume! I want to go paddling with you Granny! (lucky Granny) What colour are your buckets and spades Granny?Can we have a picnic?....

It was cold, damp and grey, but there was no way we were going to get out of it. And amazingly the sun shone....briefly. We had such a lovely time. Something for her dad to smile about on the long, long trip back.

And we're over halfway through now.