The sun sets on another day of isolation. The nights are becoming lighter but the dainty glow is being shut out by the shields of our homes. There is still a shady overcast of information to when this will all be over but while we adults strain the nerves of our anxiety from fear and anticipation, you have been so patient. Shut in from your regular routine, distanced from your family and friends with not a clear understanding to why this has happened.
You still wake with a smile spread evenly across both cheeks, ready for the day ahead, absorbing the repetitive pattern, relentless with your composure, eager to march through the guarded door and take on your walk for some fresh air and new scenery. We can see the frustration when we have to restrict you from the public; we understand the importance of yours and the community’s welfare but to you we are holding you back from exploring.
You can’t figure out why there are heavy chains imprisoning the monkey bars and swings as you walk past your favourite park or why you can’t see the new-born lambs at your local farm, it won’t make sense to you now but when you are older we will educate you on, not the devastation it caused but how the country came together, supporting the vulnerable, applauding our NHS heroes for saving thousands of lives while putting their own life on the line, sacrificing their time with their loved ones to work tirelessly each and every day. How millions of people donated to Captain Tom (who served in the army during World War two) who at 100 years old set up a fundraiser to walk 100 lengths of his garden for the NHS and managed to raise a staggering £32 million pounds and people are still donating now (which is amazing). No one will forget the thousands of people from across the world that lost their life to this awful virus, but it will teach us lessons we didn’t know we needed from companionship to appreciation. (I say lessons loosely as this feels more like punishment)
We sympathize with the boredom, we feel it too and even though the days are blurring into one long month, we also know this time with you is so precious. Usually Mum and Dad are working or running errands, we end up missing so much of your learning, your creative mind and just your valuable time in general. We have loved baking, painting and interacting through your imagination as we play in the golden sun or hide and seek as you try to cram into the smallest of gaps. We value and hold you tight while we ride through this wave. Even though we soak up the memories there are family and friends that are dreaming of the day they can see your beaming little smiles.
We know Uncles and Aunties and Nannies and Nanas, Grandads and Grandpas that are missing you an incredible amount. They can only see you through video calls or windows, holding on to a future when they can cuddle you in their arms, kissing you on the soft skin of your cheek, breathe in your infectious energy, filling the room with your happiness and love.
The emotions will be extremely high when the day comes but for now we stand still at home knowing we are doing this so we can see our loved ones soon.
I probably should start by saying why I would even want to take one of the main ingredients out of a cake. I have noticed I have been suffering more when I eat anything that contains eggs, from feeling sick, bloated and cramping. I have taken eggs out of my diet and have already felt less bloated and I don’t feel sick of an evening. It hasn’t been easy and if anyone knows me, knows my obsession for mayonnaise so I know I needed to find a treat I can indulge in pain-free.
I was sceptical about how a cake would taste without eggs and if this recipe would work at all. I was pleasantly surprised and even Roman was left wanting more. Plus was a great way to get him to eat one of his 5 days. (If you can count it)
So if you are trying to find a recipe without eggs or just want to try something different then get in to the Spring baking with these next steps
What you’ll need
Large Bowl
Scales
Whisk
Piping bag
Star nozzle
Cupcake cases
Cupcake tray
Ingredients (this will make 8-9 cupcakes)
250g Plain flour
150g caster sugar
1 ½ tbsp cider vinegar
Vanilla extract
1 tbsp baking powder
2 tbsp sunflower/ vegetable oil
½ tps of nutmeg
½ tps of cinnamon
130g un- salted butter
Pinch of salt
3 grated carrots
100mls of water
Topping
Traditionally cream cheese is used for the topping but I fancied going with just the buttercream so I used
140g unsalted butter
200g icing sugar
1 tbsp of milk
Orange extract
Orange food colouring
Method
Pre-heat oven to 180°c (160°c fan, gas mark 4)
Line cupcake tray with cupcake cases
In a bowl add the flour, sugar and butter and whisk. I had a crumb like texture. I’m not saying this is the right way, but it worked well for me.
Add the baking powder, oil, cider vinegar, vanilla extract, cinnamon, nutmeg and a pinch of salt. Whisk until all mix together.
Even though I grated up the carrots, I did blend them up in my nutri blender too, as I wanted the carrots in small fine pieces. Once blended add to the mix.
Whisk the ingredients together while adding the water in bit by bit until you get a smooth consistency.
Evenly distribute the mix into each cupcake case filling it about ¾ of the case. Carefully place in the centre of your oven for around 25 mins. Take out once golden brown on top or if the tooth pick or knife comes out dry when inserting in the cake.
Leave to cool down before adding the buttercream on top.
While the cupcakes are cooling down, add your cream cheese (if your using it) butter, icing and milk to the bowl, whisk until smooth.
Add the orange extract and the orange food colouring and whisk again.
Grab a pint glass and place the pipe bag in the glass while folding the end of the bag over the glass. (this just keeps in place while adding the buttercream) I tied the end up with a hair band while I squeezed the buttercream to the nozzle.
Once the cupcakes have fully cooled down, frost your cupcakes as desired. Serve and enjoy.
10.55PM I heard it. I heard the rain knocking on my window, announcing its presence. The parade crashing down on to the shells of the Supra’s parked outside. I was cocooned in my duvet with the days blurring into one. I don’t usually take notice of the change in weather but the world has shifted into what it feels like a bad nightmare and I can feel my senses spiking. We are all on edge but the ringing of the drops calmed me for a short while. It brought me back to normality. March usually has a greyish presence, or even a cloud of white, dusting the clay roof tops, but this year it has an eery colour. The world has been sent indoors while the skies filter the darkness into electric blues and fool’s gold as the star smiles through spring. Testing our obedience as we submit our being, consequence to those who were to rebel. While the human population feel caged in, the world is still spinning, but with fresher air, clearer waters and happier wildlife.
This is not what we expected as we entered 2020, but as spring emerges from the hilltops we watch the glow of the sunrise from our windows. There is a lot of fear and devastation flowing through the streets but while we mourn the loss, we keep our spirits up for the people who are working on the front lines, for the care workers who are attending to the vulnerable, the employees who are keeping the country ticking over and most of all the for the promise that we will get through this.
We are all quarantined without a real end-date but this won’t last forever. I yearn for my family and friends but I will encourage myself to grasp the opportunities I can do while isolated, One of which is spending valuable and quality time with my son, writing more and starting spring traditions. With Easter just days away now I have been working on Easter inspired crafts to keep Roman entertained for as long as possible.
A few ideas for spring activities:
Bird feeder (this can be done from a milk bottle or anything you have lying around in your recycling, I just found an old metal container wrapped some jungle themed rope round, filled with bird seed and tied it to my fence.)
Bird cage (my mums making one from a wooden crate)
Since this post is inspired by the blossoming spring, I wanted to find out about how other countries and cultures celebrate spring. While everything is on hold this year, it’s moving to know how other cultures spread pleasure and a joyful atmosphere.
Japan- Hanami: Is the celebration of spring, enjoying the transient beauty of flowers, one of which the Cherry blossom tree’s. It a long standing tradition that when the cherry blossom trees bloom the community all gather together under the trees with food and drink and music.
Thailand- Songkran: is the New Year’s national holiday that on the 13th April people gather on the streets for a huge water fight that’s last for a couple of days, its marks the start of their traditional Thai New Year. That is a tradition I would like to be involved with.
India- Holi: this is an ancient hindu festival. It starts the day after the first full moon in March. The Hindu burn an effigy and in the morning the residents take to the streets with colour powder and water. Also known as the “Festival of colour”
England- Cheese Roll: this is held on the spring bank holiday. In Gloucestershire at the top of Coopers Hill, where people Roll a 7-9 pound of circular cheese and then ran after it. People around the world get involved in this event though it can be dangerous and have been known to cause injuries.
I was fascinated about other spring traditions and think it’s a marvellous way of gathering the communities together and enjoying these as a society. Be kind and keep safe.
Tick tock, tick tock. I can finally hear the blunt knocks of the hand hitting the next second as my grey rustic Roman numeral clock strikes. One forty five in the afternoon already! (It’s actually Quarter to three but I have neglected my shabby chic device until I have the enthusiasm to adjust its time or I might even wait for the clocks to go back until it corrects itself) Time will tell. {Pun intended.} Anyway before I drift off again, the reason why I can hear my wannabe vintage clock is because I have just got my boisterous play date off to sleep. *deep breath in* While he exhales Zzz into the afternoon I am once again faced with a mountain of toys, boxes, cushions, pieces of half chewed food all launched across my milky stained carpet. The best way to describe living with a toddler is, imagine someone breaking into your property, trashing the place and then leaving. Unfortunately the downside is, they don’t leave and this happens every day.
Once I poured myself a double gin and tonic (What!) and put all the toys and furniture back in their place, straightened up my boohoo wicker lantern. I started to collect the colourful birthday cards with the big metallic 2 plastered on each one. We recently celebrated Romans second birthday, because of the Covid-19 outbreak we could only have close family round. So we panic bought 17 pizzas, munched out to Goodfella’s cheese crust heavenly goodness and popped open a bottle of fizz. I was thankful that we were able to do this, as his birthday was just before the UK went into lockdown. We still have his deflated balloons from his birthday half hanging in the air looking very thin of helium, his space theme birthday banner propped up with thick sellotape and his cartoon cards perched on the window silll, his birthday feels like a distant memory now but I also don’t have the heart to take it all down. Plus are you meant to keep your children’s birthday cards or throw them out? I kept his first birthday cards but what do you about the next birthdays after that?
I have a two year old. An energetic, funny, confident, selective hearing, bouncy 2 year old. I was sceptical about reaching this next chapter with the classic “terrible twos” lingering over my mind like a funky smell but so far THIS is my favourite age. Fuck the stereotypical saying. What’s not to love; your little offspring is now starting to find their voice and use words like “mummy” “daddy”. I feel completely privileged to be called mummy even if Roman’s bellowing it out 13 times just so I turn the TV over to the next channel. In fact he is now stringing 3 words together to make a sentence. He is able to tell me exactly what he wants or doesn’t want “NO WAY MUMMY”. He is a sponge absorbing new words every day and I can feel the butterflies summersaulting in my belly as the gibberish sounds form into a conversation. That in mind we haven’t got to stage where myself and Roman are gossiping in the corner, most of our conversation start off with me trying to crack The Da Vinci Code.
I took Roman and my Chihuahua Bailey for our one walk of the day, and as I was about to hurry my curious little slow coach, I stopped. I watched him infatuated by the yellow dandelions that are now starting to blossom as the elegant spring starts to poke its warm glow out from the wintery clouds. It made me realise the illusion has disappeared, the blinkers are up. I stopped appreciating. I didn’t care about the meddling weeds emerging together but to my son he didn’t see them as “just weeds” They were fluorescent. They decorated the boring green grass. He’s a 2 year old boy enchanted with the new world he’s now noticing for the first time properly. His head flung back and eyes widens to the sky as he heard a crow screech past singing to his fellow crows. He crunched his boots on the bark that had dropped off from the shredding tree. I listened with him. I picked off one of the dandelions and held it up to eye level, I felt my curiosity peer through and I took notice of the orange and yellow petals, the purple stalk holding them all together. I felt a sense of pleasure noticing the colours of spring and cool breeze brushing past me. It made me realise that while I want to teach Roman the wonders of the world, I also want to remember what it was like to be inspired and exhilarated by the magic. It’s about learning together.
Roman will start to learn new words, shapes, colours, animals and coordinating. I have enjoyed working out new games and ideas to get his mind occupied. Every learning curve is a stepping stone, and right now we are taking baby steps into the world of potty training. I am as clueless to potty training, as Roman is to taking his big boy pants off and sitting on his make shift toilet. So far my leg, carpet and Roman’s socks have been urinated on more times than the eye sore that is sitting in my living room. Once I have mastered the toilet training and received my medal of long service and good conduct (medal meaning Tesco finest Sauvignon Blanc) I may humour myself on to the next step, teaching Roman to bake a cake, attempt to get Roman to pick up his own toys or even get him to sleep in his own god damn bed.
I am studying Roman every day, and he is discovering how far to push. I am only a month in to a “life with a two year old” so we will see if I am still surviving in 6 months. I will keep you updated and will inform you of what I uncover, achieve and how many bottles of Parma violet gins I have consumed. (I might just have a drinking problem) To be continued…
Things Roman loves at the moment
*Spoons
* Hitting me with the spoons.
*Toy Rhinos
*Hitting me with the toy Rhinos, or anything else he can hit me with.
Thank you for reading
Credit- I wanted to give credit to Andy Jones who encouraged me to continue writing my blogs up, so thank you
Without trying to babble on too much, I have to confess my thoughts on turning 25. I need to be completely honest with you all, every year I CRY. I cry at turning another year older. I understand it’s out of my control and that I should just embrace another birthday but I have a fear that one day I will look in the mirror and there will be a little old granny looking back at me. I want to stay youthful, Is that too much to ask? No, GREAT.
Even though I cry every birthday, I didn’t this year. I don’t know why; I had built myself up for it. I had the tissues at the ready, but nothing. No uncontrollable sob. I’m obviously dead inside. I’ve reached a quarter century, and I am now emotionless. I believe it’s because of Roman I didn’t cry. I’m his mum; I’ve reached the maturity level. I care for something other than myself now; I HAVE TO BE AN ADULT. I use to think twenty five was mature and an independent age but now that I’ve reached this ‘quarter of a century milestone’ I don t feel ready for all this responsibility, I have a mortgage, a car, a child, a job. This is what older people have not a young 25 year old? We still party in clubs and still have a ‘go fund me’ from mum and dad while we live it up travelling to places like the Philippines or Bail? Well some still do, but for me my focus is working, caring for my little boy and weekly meal planning. (Go steady Courtney) I want to enjoy being 25 with loved ones, enjoy the next year with more adventures with my family, see new cities in and outside of the UK. I want to hopefully take control of where I want to be in life, and hopefully carry on blogging about it until I reach 26 and have a mid-life crisis. The main subject of this post wasn’t to have an epiphany but to discuss my 25th birthday party. With my birthday in Oct I always try to organise a themed party. I usually arrange the event at mine, so it keeps cost to a minimum and 9/10 times it’s always raining on the day so easier to keep it in one location.
With my birthday so close to Halloween, it always makes sense to throw a zombie costume on, chuck some fake blood around, and party like the legless drooling messes we are.
This year though I fancied doing something a bit different (for my twenty fifth of course) something a little classier, get away from the blood thirsty vampires and stick to something classic. So I chose a white theme. NOTE -This wasn’t the best idea when it came to looking for outfits in the middle of autumn. It was extremely challenging hunting down anything white in the clothes shops; however everyone did make the effort and exceeded my expectations. (So thank you)
Decorations
I brought 100 white balloons from amazon, filled as many as I could with hilum which you can collect from Asda, Amazon or EBay and let hang from the ceiling, which I tied glossed metallic white ribbon to.
Diamonds, white roses, white pumpkins and white nic nacs scattered around made the little touches to the room.
I couldn’t leave the Halloween spirit altogether so I hung some white ghost bunting up too, and purchased a couple of skull heads (The Range & Asda) and decorated the living room with spider’s web. Added some strobe lights and you have a dance floor.
u
Food
• I created some white chocolate balls with a silicone cake pop maker.
• I purchased mini doughnuts and covered in icing sugar
• I purchased mini cupcakes (purely as I did not have enough time to make my own) and made a marshmallow buttercream on top.
• White chocolate buttons
• Pop corn
• Mints
• Mini marshmallows
• Strawberries covered in white chocolate
Forgetting the food and the decorations, a party wouldn’t be without great company and great company it was. We played games; we got through the frozen margarita punch and danced through the night. (Until the shots got the better of us)
I speak a lot about my moments with Roman and how becoming a mum had changed my life but there is something about a fathers bond that is undeniable. When I see the look between my son and my partner, it’s pure and priceless.
My partner became a dad the day he held Roman in his arms. I watched the speech disappear from his mouth, his eyes well up and his grasp get a little tighter. It was love, love at first sight. There was this tiny human that was now half him. He didn’t have to endure 9 months of hormones or weird symptoms; he wasn’t exhausted by 9 AM. his feet didn’t swell, nor did he get woken in the middle of the night by a train of endless hiccups going on inside his stomach and he certainly didn’t have to experience the awful pain of contractions that leave you unable to talk, but that doesn’t mean fathers don’t have to go through a whirlwind of emotions.
Fathers don’t get to experience that instant bond or connections when you’re carrying you’re child. They don’t get to feel that butterfly sensation as you feel that tiny kick for the first time. They don’t understand the constant worry or fear we feel while growing our little ones, they have to become our rocks. They have to stand there helpless, watching their loved one’s crying out in pain knowing there is nothing they can do apart from hold our hand through to the next chapter.
When I ask my partner his experience of child birth and how he felt the first time meeting our son. He explained he felt numb. We had quite a traumatic experience before and after child birth, he felt frozen. He watched me struggle with high blood pressure and palpitations along with our son whose heart rate was decreasing through every contraction, after our son was delivered, I caught an infection that was causing me to have a temperature that was now rocketing sky high and a heart rate of 190bpm while I lay there trying to process it all. Unfortunately my partner wasn’t able to do the same, he had to leave me to go the NICU with Roman and watch this little boy who’s wasn’t even a day old, be poked and prodded with needles and tubes. He watched his 5lb tiny baby be placed into an incubator and get fed by a tube. I wasn’t aware of his emotions but he felt terrified.
My partner never really thought we would get this far, in fact he never really thought we would be able to have children. With me having PCOS and him being a type 2 diabetic, the chances weren’t very high. Once my other half got his diabetes under control and I was trying to control my PCOS better, luck would have it; we conceived. (I do believe that once my partner controlled his diabetes, it really helped with us falling pregnant as he was undiagnosed for a while.)
Suddenly he has had to face a new challenge; he become a dad for the first time. I still remember the first time my partner had to change Roman into his new baby grows. I could see the nerves shaking through his hands; he was so delicate with him. So worried he might break him, inexperienced of this little human, but it wasn’t long before he learnt the role of fatherhood. He has exceeded fatherhood.
You only need to see the smile between both of them to know he’s doing a great job. Roman leans on both of us for love and support. He may cry for his mum at bed time but in the middle of the night he wants his dad. (When its 3 o’clock in the morning, I really don’t mind. HONESTLY I do not mind.)
He has taken the role hands on, with changing nappy after dirty nappy, danced to the jungle book theme tune and has learned all the words to Blaze and the Monster machine theme tune (Not sure who prefers it more) He refuses to believe Roman does anything wrong, and turns up with yet another toy for Roman, but would you want a dad any other way? Of course not, I feel fortunate that Roman has a supportive father and Roman has both parents in his upbringing.
If you’re a father that stands by his children, Showing them everything you can offer, with love and support through the good times and the bad. Thank you. You are more than just a father you are a ‘Dad’.
The night started out like any other when you’re a day away from your first holiday as a family…projectile vomiting. You heard it, PROJECTILE VOMITING! Roman was sick everywhere, over him, over us, over our bed. While Mr T cleared up the horrific vomit scene, I settled Roman back down. It wasn’t long before Roman was back asleep and relaxed in my arms. We both couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so through heavy eyes we watched our sleeping sick bug. My head was now swimming with questions. ‘Is he too sick to fly?’ ‘Would we be putting others at risk if we took him on an air conditioned plane?’ ‘Would I be a terrible mum if I did take him away?’ ‘What if he needs to go to hospital while we are away in a different country?’ My thoughts were spinning and my mum guilt was mentally abusing me. Mr T observing my anxiety calmly replied “Try not to panic, we will wait until the morning and see how he is”.
The morning arrived pretty quickly and the exhaustion was now creeping in. We left Roman to sleep as long as we could. I had already planned out his airport outfit, which was lying folded on our bedside table. ‘With one swift move I can change him out of his PJ’s and into his fresh clothing with him still sleeping peacefully I thought with optimism. I’m about to attempt to change a sleeping baby who was violently sick in the night and hasn’t had much sleep… where was this optimism coming from? He went mental. I disturbed him and he was pissed.
With Roman raging we quickly strapped him in to the car seat and headed out to meet the others. (No sickness so far) As soon as Roman saw his cousin, he had forgotten the anger that was building up against us and was now giggling like a looney. *phew*
From the mini bus to the airport, 9 people and 37 luggage cases scurried out of the chilly autumn weather and into the dry airport, with a preview of heat that awaits us in just a short few hours (Hallelujah) Checking in was easy until we arrived at security. Mr T, who had the job of putting the hand luggage’s on the moving belts, forgot to take out both electronic tablets from the bags. We got ushered over to the naughty corner and were made to watch our belonging’s get stripped bit by bit, while onlookers were horrified, pointing and name calling at us, it was very traumatic. Okay so I over reacted that last part. Everyone was more focused on getting to their next destination than worrying about that unorganised family who have just wasted securities time. (Sorry Bristol security.)
Once we got past security, I assumed we could relax, grab a coffee, and get some brekkie for Roman as he hadn’t eaten yet. Oh how I was wrong! While I and the oblivious crew dawdled along through the shops, I headed towards Burger King to grab a coffee and a bite to eat. As me and Mr T are patiently waiting for Burger King to grind the beans, a voice comes through on the Tannoy system, announcing that gate 18 to Majorca was now closing. “WAIT WHAT” We had got our times slightly wrong when being dropped off at the airport, then waiting for security to confirm we are just unorganised timewasters rather than naughty smugglers we got held up. Now our gate is closing and we are hanging about in bloody Burger King rather than sat in our boxed seats. “GO GO GO”I yelled, I snatched the coffee that took 35 minutes to grind and we just start running. Coffee was flying everywhere, Roman didn’t have a bloody clue, and I’m trying to ring the oblivious crew to find out where they are.
3 miles of running and we finally made it to the gate, waited for the others to arrive and all made our way on the plane. I slumped into the seat, sweating and uncomfortable. I did feel more relaxed after as I fell asleep shortly after taking off with Roman doing the same. The first part was over. We were heading to Majorca.
Streets of Porto Cristo
We were staying in a small town called Sa Coma in a hotel called Protur Safari Park. It was one of the biggest in Majorca, with a small waterpark attached to the resort. Unfortunately this was only open from June to end of Sep but we did make use of the baby pool as it had mini water slides for the littles one to play around in and was a much quieter pool rather than the one closer to the complex.
Protur Safari Park Pool
When we were on route to the hotel I noticed there was a lot of old windmills, one every couple of miles. So as you do I googled it and if anyone is interested, they were used by farmers to grind grain and pump water. There are around 3 thousand windmills on the island and some dating back to the seventeen century. (See you learn something every day.)
After arriving at the hotel, checking in and paying for the dreaded tax at reception. (Which is now a requirement.) We took our room keys and dragged our 37 bags to the rooms. The relief of getting through that door and knowing we don’t have to do that for a whole week felt blissful.
Our first evening and I couldn’t wait to get down to the restaurant (All inclusive) Mrs Piggy is out this week and she’s eating until Mrs Piggy can’t eat no more. *Snort Snort* my brother couldn’t make it down for dinner as he felt pretty poorly, but we didn’t realise the sick bug would attack the rest of the oblivious crew as the majority was being sick the following day too. We also didn’t realise while we was out there, there was a spread of hand,foot and mouth disease. So can’t be sure what was making us poorly (Typical.)
Third day in and we was all feeling more human, so we decided to explore.
Things to do
• Sa Coma beach– We visited Sa Coma beach which was only a 5 minute walk from the hotel. It was clean, with white sand and clear waters with wicker umbrella’s scattered around. The sun loungers weren’t cheap though, paying 15euros a sun lounger. If you walk right of the beach you will come across big sand sculpture’s but don’t take photos as they will try to charge you. Unless you want to pay of course.
Sa Coma beach
• Porto Cristo – Porto Cristo is a beautiful little fishing village, which is around a 30 minute bus journey. Walking through the back streets and the side alleys of Porto Cristo had the heart of the Spanish heritage. With its rustic oak doors, scuffed yellow walls and old green shutters, the streets were lit up with its vibrant colours. As you walk away from the side streets, you come to the harbour with plenty of yacht’s surrounding the bay with its turquoise waters foaming onto the soft stretch of sand. If you walk along the beach towards the end is a marina with stone steps leading to caves that have been protected with old fishing equipment displayed inside. You can also look out the beautiful scenery taking in the wonderful little town that is Porto Cristo.
Note- if you decide to take the bus to these locations around the island, make sure the bus driver knows where your stop/hotel is. As the bus driver drove 30 minutes away from our hotel, which resulted us walking miles and taking over an hour to get back to the hotel, and with two young children and older members walking directly under the bright sun with no shade resulted in slight sun stroke.
Porto CristoPorto Cristo
• Cala Millor– We never got a chance to properly visit Cala Millor but wish we did by the description. It’s a fairly new built town with everything you need to enjoy your stay. With another clean sandy beach to explore.
• Electric quads/ Bikes– This seemed to be quite popular in and around Sa Coma with plenty of shops advertising Bicycles and Quads, again we never got a chance to ride on a bike, though I did want to hire one and sight see more, but Romans little cousin did hire a quad bike. Which cost around 30 euros for half hour and he thoroughly enjoyed riding around.
• Caves– This is something we didn’t do either, but did notice was the main attraction of the island was it caves. These were located in Porto Cristo with an underground lake.
Marina at Porto Cristo
Protur Safari Park
Protur Safari Park offers double rooms and apartments. We stayed in apartments which were spacious with kitchenette, lounge, bedroom, bathroom and a large balcony with 2 double wardrobes, which were ideal. The complex was large with 2 big pools and an inside pool for the colder weather. Along with a sauna, they also had a large buffet with a few A La Carte restaurants. Unfortunately we had a few occasions where the food was cold; you had to get to the buffet early for the fresh food. The hotel was very child orientated, with lots of children activities going on along with crazy golf and a children’s play park, they also had children’s entertainment in the evening. The waiters were phenomenal with the children, I applaud the staff, as they would finish late at night and start up early in the morning with a pleasant smile while working. Overall the holiday had a rocky start but with a great ending. I am looking forward to making more memories and teaching Roman the histories of other countries.
Over a month ago now, I had the privilege of watching one of my friends get married to her best friend. It was truly a magical day. The day went like any bride would dream; they had the perfect weather, a beautiful atmosphere and everyone celebrating late into the night.
The day started out in a little church in Cleeve where guest gathered and loved ones patiently waited, sending our congratulations to the groom and listening out for the arrival of the bride. Finally the ceremony began the bride and the bridesmaids had arrived and were now making their way down the aisle. Tears filled the eyes of guests. When I saw Chelsie, my instant thought was WOW what a dress, it was just incredible. Chelsie looked beautiful. There has to be something said about the dress, it’s one of the biggest statements of the day. There are a few things people remember from a wedding, one being the dress. I honestly don’t believe there was a better gown.
After bellowing out the hymns retouching up with ‘amazing grace’ and no one objecting to the wedding, the vows were made and the rings were sealed. We then made our way to the venue but not before stopping off at Tesco as my other half insisted on eating before he got there, even though a three course meal awaited him shortly after.
The venue was being held at Hilton Cadbury House which was only a 5 minute drive from the church. The newlywed couple were having all the memorable photo’s done while the guest hovered round the complimentary drinks and bar. We took our one Pimm’s *cough 5* and then joined the couple for some action shots of throwing the confetti. I did remind myself not to throw directly into their faces… FOR GODSAKE DO NOT BLIND THE BRIDE!!
At this point, a few of the guest were feeling merry and were now ready to dig into a hefty 3 course meal, luckily our bride does not like to wait around so got us in and seated. There was a board for the seating arrangement so you were able to find your seat easily. I did think this was a great touch and well presented. On the table were some wonderful favours and plenty of wine to go around. When the food arrived, it did not disappoint. I am a foodie kind of girl, so a roast dinner and a triple chocolate sponge pudding just speaks to my heart.
Weddings can be quite overwhelming and emotional but when it came to the speeches, most of my table were tearing up. I literally had tears rolling down my cheeks. (For any future brides, Tissue boxes are a must on tables.) All the speeches were heart felt but when a beloved grandad makes a speech about his favourite grandchild you feel lost for words, and all you can do is sob into champagne flute. It was truly beautiful.
Toasts were made and the night was just beginning. Every one celebrated into the early hours and got absolutely [shit faced] intoxicated. We all took advantage of the photo booth, the second buffet, the candy stand and the flip flops. My other half was most impressed with the buffet and the candy stand. (Don’t know how he was still eating.) I think the flip flops were a god send. After wearing mountain high heels, swapping them for flat shoes half way through the night was a dream.
We obviously couldn’t go a night without talking or thinking about Roman. Are you even a parent if you don’t end up speaking to the other guest about their little balls of chaos, or the pregnant women about the types of cravings you/they have? Or even having a discussion with the couples who are currently trying to conceive?
No matter where you are, being a mum/dad doesn’t stop for one night, you still worry about them or how their sleeping. (12 fucking hours can I just say… 12 hours he slept without waking in the night! That has happened about once since he’s been born.) I’m not bitter I promise.
I have to say that the thought and effort that went into the wedding was wonderful and I feel fortunate to of been there on such a big day. Unfortunately the night had to come to an end, but it will be a night that we will never forget. Congratulations to Mr and Mrs King, we all wish you a happy and beautiful future together.
I was going to start this post referencing it ‘The power of motherhood’. I wrote up to say that there isn’t a manual or step by step guide to motherhood. Which would of been a lie, as I googled ‘the power of motherhood’. To my surprise, there on the very top page were the words “the classic manual to motherhood” Well who knew.
So as I lay here with my little boy spread across my chest fast asleep, dribbling from the corner of his mouth. I started to think about being a mother, and what it meant to me to be a mum. What examples I got growing up and how it’s moulded me into the person I am today.
I don’t really remember myself before motherhood. What did I use to think about? What did I use to spend all my money on? WHAT DID I DO?
Now my world is scheduled play dates, nap times and endless episodes of Blaze and the monster machines. I have spent hours scrubbing food off clothes, washing up bottles after bottles, picking dozens of pieces of build-a-blocks off the floor, and keeping my son occupied until bedtime. Honestly, I wouldn’t change this lifestyle for the world. I feel more ‘me’ then I ever have before. I knew I wanted to be a mum, i knew I wanted to have a family. I thought I knew what was involved but I didn’t really know how hard it can be, I didn’t know how selfless mothers actually are. I didn’t know the fears we would develop or learning to accept my imperfect behaviour.
I didn’t know if I could be a good mum or what it took to look after a little one. I just seen how I was cared for as a child. I watched my mum make sacrifices for the life of me and my brother. My mum has shaped me in to the mum I am today. It’s now my turn to rub tummies until the bug has vanished, or to take my son to every football match or the hardest job of all, watching my baby grow until he has his own little family. When I think about motherhood, I thought it meant stability. I thought you needed be stable with your finance, relationships and emotions. I couldn’t possibly look after a child while suffering with panic attacks, and of course I couldn’t care for a child if I couldn’t provide them with all the high tech baby equipment? In reality, those little ones just need you. When their bright wide eyes are mirroring your smile, there is nothing more they need than the comfort of you. You are their safety net, their teacher, their laughter.
We have pushed our bodies to incredible lengths for the development of our babies. We have learnt to change endless nappies, and differentiate between cries. We have become a night owl as we fight against the long nights and watch the moon light creep through our curtains.
I had 9 months to prepare for this day, but i didn’t start learning until I held my tiny, wrinkly little bundle in my arms. As i placed his wet waxy head underneath my chin, my grasp got a little tighter. As i placed my hands around him for the first time; i took in every second, every freckle, and every movement. As my thoughts and imagination become a reality. I could hear him exhale on to my chest. I felt his beating heart become a rhythm. I felt connected as a mother and a child. Even if you are struggling to feel an attachment at the start, you are connected. Your love is pure and priceless.
For now though, I want you to know my crazy, curious like darling, that I would swap my furniture for jumparoo’s, trade my days off for soft plays and farm trips and sacrifice my lie ins for early mornings, just to see that smile across your face everyday.
After sunning it up on the beautiful island of Majorca, I decided to take a week off from posting. Now that I’m back in the dark wet country I like to call home, I thought I would continue the Autumn season and dedicate my next post to my Lotus Biscoff muffins that are Inspired from Costa’s new autumn menu. I thought I would finally take the plunge and give this baking a go. Thankfully the muffins turned out really well, and they were approved by Roman. As Costa’s muffins are limited time only, with this recipe you can bake them all year round or just bake them once like I will, but the choice is yours.
If you looking at these muffins and you’re thinking I would never be able to do anything as specular as this, don’t panic. I am a complete beginner (I know you wouldn’t guess it) but it’s true. So if I can do this I know you can too.
What you’ll need:
Utensils
Whisker
Piping bag
Star nozzle
Cupcake cases
Cupcake tray
Ingredients
150g Unsalted Butter
150g Caster sugar
150g Self-Raising Flour
½ tsp of baking powder
3x eggs (I used medium size)
½ tsp Vanilla extract
2 tsp of Lotus Biscoff Spread (smooth)
For the buttercream
140g Unsalted Butter
250g Icing Sugar
160g Lotus Biscoff Spread (smooth)
3 tbsp whole milk
For the topping
• Lotus biscuit
This will make 8-10 muffins
Method
1. Pre-heat the oven to 180°C (160°C Fan, Gas mark 4)
2. Line the cupcake tray with the cupcake cases.
3. In a bowl add the butter and casting sugar and whisk until soft.
4. Add the eggs and whisk in the flour.
5. Add in the vanilla, baking powder and the Biscoff spread.
6. Whisk for a further 30 seconds
7. Spoon the mix into the casings, fill about ¾ of the cupcake case
8. Put tray into the oven for 20-25mins (keep an eye on muffins, I took mine out, after 23minutes as they were golden brown)
Making the buttercream
1. While the muffins are baking in the oven, start adding the frosting ingredients together. Add the butter and icing sugar in the bowl and whisk.
2. Add the Biscoff spread and milk and continue to whisk.
3. Once smooth, scoop the buttercream in the piping bag.
4. So number 3 sounds a lot easier than it actually was. Obviously my first time putting buttercream into a pipe bag was a challenge. I quickly got more buttercream on me and the floor than I did in the bag. If it’s your first time too, I would see if you can get a second pair of hands to help you.
Decorating the muffins
1. once the muffins are out of the oven and they have had time to fully cool down (Make sure you allow at least half an hour before decorating the muffins as I made the mistake with the first one and it just melts the buttercream)
2. swirl the buttercream around the muffin until its fully covered (the Costa muffins only have a pea size splodge on theirs but I wanted to go big with the topping.)
3. add a Lotus biscuit on top of the buttercream.
4. Break a biscuit up into crumbs and finish off with sprinkling on top.
I hoped you enjoyed your dessert as much as me and Roman.
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romansmumandme.com 