Yet another blogging mummy

 January, 2026, was the month everything changed. 3 years of very, very trying times with this little one, sleepless nights, screaming fights, terrible stress, guilt, and everything else that comes with parenting spirited and fiesty kids, especially ones with extra challenges, along with, of course, all the magical bits, the exhilaratingly, breathlessly, infinitely joyful bits, and the small amount of peaceful bits, and all of a sudden, click! Things are better.  It was just after she turned 6. Everyone said "when they turn 6, it is so much easier!" and I absolutely did not believe them. Not one of them.  But then, a lot of them with teenagers say "it's no better with teenagers! it's just a lot of different challenges!"  And then there are those wise women who say " my child was a very easy child"  who, I ask, to believe?  TFR x

 It was the end of a hot day. We were all tired and a bit cranky. Emotions were at an all time high and pickle had had a terrible day at school, having been told off a lot for talking and being disrespectful. Her heart was breaking a little. Daddy was making dinner. I was sitting on a rocking chair, one of those that has no hard edges, is shaped a bit like a bean, has no legs, and no matter how hard you try, you cannot hurt yourself, even when you rock so far back that it actually stops, you can't fall off or get hurt. It's almost like some sort of therapy chair. Pickle was sitting at her desk doing whatever it is that she does at her desk. And believe me, it's not the regular stuff you'd expect people do at desks.  For whatever reason, she came over to me and sat on me as I was gently rocking, in a spider formation - facing me with her legs straddling mine. She then tucked her little soft head underneath my chin, my all time favourite position, rested her cheek on my s...

 Our time in Bristol has been, so far, a total whirlwind.  The first night we were in the UK we spent at a friend's house and we drank to his health and to a great many other things besides. The next day was excruciating. But we made it. Stocked up on most of our grocery needs, rolled into our village and then realised we had no key to get into our own house. After some high key panicking and emergency text messages sent around the village, we realised our neighbour had the key and thus we were saved. The first week was a brutal heatwave, and we, like the rest of the country, were unprepared. We spent most of it inside, as it was almost too hot to venture outside our doors, and waded between states of being; pretty miserable, as no one could sleep - a double whammy of jet lag and the heat, grateful, as we slid into our beautifully air conditioned rental car to seek out and buy the last fans and blowup swimming pools available in the whole city, and trying to find excuses to st...