Month: May 2023

Kendra from ShoppingForTwo sent this idea to us last year.

She wrote: keep yourself and your baby snuggly warm this wintertime by making your own baby carrier. I learned how to make this just a week before my baby was born and not only is this the most comfortable baby carrier, but it’s also the least expensive. I made two carriers for about $16.

Take a trip down to the fabric store and pick out five yards of either woven cotton (you will need to hem the edges to keep from unraveling) or fleece (no need to sew at all). cut the five yards in half horizontally, so you end up with a 20″ by 5 yards piece of material. then follow the instructions at wearyourbaby.com to learn how to wrap your baby.

Kendra wrote that her baby quickly falls asleep when he’s wrapped up which makes running errands or taking a walk a lot more peaceful. “I wish I had found out about this when my older kid was a baby, it would have made life so much easier!”

Heather secretly made me a wrap just like Kendra’s as a delighted pregnancy present. I wore it proudly when Scarlett was tiny.

A Day Out at the national railway Museum-York

It’s may and it’s raining…again. like many parents out there, we find it a struggle to keep the kids entertained when the weather’s cold and blustery outside. Not another soft play I hear you cry. I’m with you on that, there’s only so many slides and ball pits I can cushion my tush on. Ouch.

One of our favourite ‘go to when it rains’ places in Yorkshire is the national railway museum (and I’m not even a train lover-London living for 11 years saw to that) but this museum is utterly wide eyed fascinating for all the family and it’s FREE.

There are literally hundreds of rail vehicles in the museum along with outdoor open train ride for when the sun finally shines and you arewide-eyedstep on board the futuristic Japanese Bullet Train indoors along with other trains you can walk on. Oliver, ten times on, still asks me why the trains aren’t moving and never fails to make others on board laugh when he pretends to be the ticket collector and asks for their tickets!

What is so enthralling is how you can get close to over 300 years of train history in York’s only national museum by exploring their giant halls full of trains and railway legends including the majestic duchess of Hamilton and the stunning opulence of the royal Trains.

I know that’s how I would have liked to have travelled! We also love the gallery there, showcasing train art and posters along with suitcases, birdcages and confectionery machines of old dotted around the museum.

You can even watch engineers at work in The Workshop, uncover hidden treasures in The warehouse and make tracks to the outdoor area where there is outdoor play along with miniature railway rides.

Every weekend and in the school holidays, kids can enjoy a fun filled programme of events, including science shows, storytelling, steam rides, craft activities and special events so do check out the website to plan your visit. 

The may half Term 2013 is animal themed enabling to discover all things furry, scaly, feathery, and fluffy, and how they relate to our railways. You’ll have the opportunity to learn about working railway animals, the creatures that were transported on the rails, and even the creepy-crawlies who were secret stowaways! I’d strongly recommend the museum to all!

Photographs ©Peter Broadbent.

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English Easter was a cheerful affair here (Greek Easter was the following weekend but we celebrated it as one) hot footing it to Manchester lapping up that gorgeously hot but breezy bank holiday weekend decked out in summer clothes (remember that time? Hard, I know, now that it’s not 25 degrees anymore and we’re scrambling for umbrellas). best of all, the long weekend was a chance to see the big Fat Greek family for a marathon feast and even bigger, catch-up.

It was one heck of a nourishing whirlwind that buoyed me up no end. So much so, I returned back to Windsor at midnight but still felt fresh for an early morning wake-up call for GMB, getting my mug on the box, on just 2 hours sleep! I was debating with broadcaster and author Janey Lee Grace, on whether drinking responsibly affects parenting. I say mindful drinking doesn’t! Now, pass the ouzo!

P.S. thanks to Dara Ford for the stunning, bespoke jacket I essentially live in, and Lauren Jobling for styling me as typical (she chose the red shoes below I love too). dress is H&M.

But, back to Easter…

It was so busy, we barely took any photos (always a sign of the best time) but I’ve included the few diamonds below, with my beaut of a family.

My auntie Zafira kindly gave me this floral Zara dress of dreams (I love the billowy sleeves) and the red Dorothy style chunky heels with cute cat faces on the toes, were a gift from Koi Footwear.

My shades are Gucci and my beautiful first cousin Georgia wears a Zara two-piece too with Gucci trainers. (Unknowingly) in sync or what?!

Happy days

…The kids loved seeing their cousins again too, and Oliver,9, is besotted with dogs and babies so divided his time equally between stroking baby Emilios’s feet (aw), and dogs, Milly and Suki’s fur. Emilios is child of my first cousin Stefanos and his partner Yasmin, and stopped crying the minute I held him, bless him, and now, as per my ovaries are in over drive. I would love another baby in the next few years, possibly when I hit 40 if I can (I just need to work on Peter)!

Come on Peter!!!!

When it concerned food, my auntie Loulla who owns award winning Greek taverna Kosmos in Manchester, rustled up a feast for us in no time with lamb for those who eat it (not me as I’m plant-based), and both there and at my aunt Zafira’s, I filled up on naturally vegan bourkouri (Cracked Wheat), Greek salad sans feta, and Cyprus potato chips which were all delicious.

Thanks to Lou, we also left with a tray of conventional Greek custard tart Peter and my kids have slowly eaten (and loved) all week.

I need to try a vegan version!

Love, sun and terrific food-what much more do you need?

…We really love living in Windsor but we miss the family lots. It took 5 hours to get home, but it sure was worth it.

Here I am with my cousin Vasos.

Sunday just gone was Greek Easter (the Greeks follow the Julian calendar, which typically differs from the Gregorian calendar that is used by numerous western countries) and while I expect I fast each day as a vegan, I did break my typical diet on Sunday, not with anything non-vegan but a whole load of dark chocolate (and I imply a load)!

We took it easy, resting at home thanks to the sugar crash, and the young boys decorated porcelain eggs we’d purchased from Sainsbury’s which went well until they both wanted to make the chick egg version on offer, and the pack only included one set of wings, beak etc. Cue bickering and Xander in tears.

My little man emulates everything his big brother Oliver does or has, which I under can be aggravating for my eldest son, but really is sweet when you think about it!…

I soon distracted them with some chocolate but that’s the end of sugar highs for us (for now)!

I’m back on the healthy eating band wagon again, as I’ve packed on 10 pounds over the last few months which should go (I miss my jeans). I’m back to IF (Intermittent Fasting) daily fasting between 9pm and 11 am, and hitting the gym. I’ve also started PT sessions with trainer to the stars (and now, little old me),  James Golden.

Wish me luck, I’ll report back soon!

What have you all been up to?

Buy my bestselling book in paperback or audio

My debut book is my guide to surviving and thriving at work and at home and provides insight into how to create a digital company or return to work with confidence.

Mumboss: The truthful Mum’s guide to Surviving and Thriving at work and at home (UK 2nd Edition)

Available on Amazon or Audible

The working Mom: Your guide to Surviving and Thriving at work and at home (US/Canada Edition)

Available September 8th 2020. purchase now on Amazon

Like what you’ve read? then why not follow Vicki on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Pinterest and Instagram

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My daughter had her 7th birthday party at Pump It Up, a colorful storehouse outfitted with many inflatable jumpy things. This operation is a birthday party machine. parents need not lift a finger during the party; the children’s shoes and the parents purses are even carted along on a shelf with wheels as the party moves through the facility.

While any sane parent would have simply checked the box next to “ice cream cake” when signing up for the party, I have a tradition of making my children’s birthday treats, though I’m beginning to question why. I don’t have a special aptitude for it. I’ve just always thought it’s not that hard. I make cupcakes from a box and use store-bought frosting, and everyone’s delighted and the whole thing costs about $10.

Here are Julian’s birthday cupcakes from a year or so ago.

(Find these charming googly candy eyes on Amazon.)

Scarlett and I saw this tie-dye cake mix on the shelf at the store and gotten it.

After adjusting Scarlett’s expectations that our cake would not resemble the picture on the box because a) I did not get three packages of mix to make three circle cakes that need to be frosted together and b) I am not doing frosting and then fondant and then coloring fondant and then cutting fondant into circles and then poking my eyes out with a frosting knife. I’m just not doing that.

I thought it would be fun to cook it in a Bundt cake pan and then frost it with white and then each slice would be it’s own outstanding little rainbow.

We made the mix, and followed the instructions to separate the batter into six bowls, one for each primary color and one for each secondary color. The package guided us to use the enclosed food coloring to turn each segment of batter to its assigned color on the tie-dye spectrum. To our delight, the color mixing went off without a hitch and we actually made purple from red and blue. Or close enough.

 

Next we poured the batter, one color at a time into the non-stick bundt pan.

Hmm. It filled only a fraction of the pan. I hoped that it would rise or else I only had enough cake to feed about six kids. We were expecting 15, plus siblings who often show up in time for cake.

After the prescribed baking session, I let the cake cool, but maybe not enough. When I attempted to flip the the cake over, it completely fell apart. half the cake was glued to the top of the pan. Oh. Shit.

I had embarked on this project the day before the party for just-in-case reasons, and now I had to consider my plan Bs.

Do this same project over again and hope for better results. I realize that is the definition of insanity, but I suspected that a lot more cooking and a lot more cooling might produce a a lot more strong cake.

Revert to my normal cupcake offering, taking comfort in the reliability of it.

Dig into my creative brain and upcycle this crumbled rainbow cake.

One of the crucial benefits of good Ol’ Cupcakes is that you don’t have to cut and plate cake in front of a crowd of children. no one likes that parent-of-the-party-kid job, do they? After some hand-wringing and swearing and giving myself a pep talk in the kitchen, I came up with a new plan. I sent my husband to the store for whipping cream and clear plastic cups and I shut down operation Rainbow Cake for the day.

In the morning, with a couple hours to go before the party, I made the whipped cream and put it in a tupperware in the fridge so that we could transport it to the party. I scooped a serving of tye-die cake pieces and crumbs into each plastic cup. We packed those in the car and went to the party. A few moments before the pizza was served, I topped each cup with fresh whipped cream. unexpectedly my kitchen fail was a Pinterest-worthy dessert.

Wait, I said Pinterest-worthy, right? here you go.

Bonus: I achieved the easy-to-pass-out dessert status I was terrified I’d miss. No public cake cutting for this party. Each child got a cup handed to him or her.

Next time, I’ll plan for cake cups (like cupcakes but accidental?) from the beginning so I don’t waste time crying over spilled crumbs.

thanks to Oakland mother and non-profit executive Chantal Laurie below for this guest post. We met through our shared babysitter a few years ago. When she sent me this post and I was so thrilled about it, I wrote on Facebook that I love when people send us an outstanding post just because they have something to say and need a place to say it. Some readers thought I was being sarcastic. I was not. I’m really pleased to share your writing. You know, as long as it’s pretty good.

I’m 70% sure having a third child is a good idea. and I’m seven months pregnant. With my third kid.

My husband’s also 70% sure, but 30% uncertainty doesn’t send him into a tailspin. It appeals to his, “We’ll figure it out. What’s the Niner’s score?” mentality that tempers my over-thinking and drives me batty.

With the first and second, it wasn’t a question. I wanted the delight and heartache of raising a little one and wanted our first to have a sibling. getting pregnant wasn’t easy, but it was an unequivocal decision.

With the third, it felt different. I wanted some Myers-Briggs type indicator test with 25 questions to reveal my “type” and tell me what to do:

“You value fun, adventure and challenge and you’ve got much more love to give. opt for it.”

“Your age, need for order, issue over finances, and investment in your profession say two is plenty.”

Without a Magic 8 ball, we did what any responsible, highly-educated adults do: played it fast and loose and left it up to some identified sperm to make the decision for us.

I’m still 30% uncertain it’s a good idea.

Having a third seems impractical. after that additional shoelace is tied and snack is packed, it’ll take 20 extra minutes to get out of the house at any given time. We’ll be perpetually late to everything. And, we live in the San Francisco Bay area which is prohibitively expensive; I’m dubious we can offer for three kids the way we want.

It also seems excessive. Are we the “Duggar family of the West” as we challenge the prevailing ideology of our peer group: two and through? We’ve got two healthy kids and the quaint set up of a young boy and a girl, why tempt fate by depending on my “advanced maternal age” eggs?

A third delays our dreams. goals of traveling abroad in the near future get stifled when imagining a newborn addition. Nap times cramp the style of a hike to Machu Picchu or a habitat For Humanity trip to Honduras. and starting the clock again from the beginning implies paying for much more years of childcare and pre-school, real money that’s never channeled towards that kitchen re-model.

There’s the identity piece. A third seems to imply I’m much more “mom” than “professional.” I think of getting so swallowed up in consent slips and breast milk that I’ll forget how to code switch from the language of “sweet pea” to “what’s the dial-in for the conference line?” And, I worry colleagues will predict that I’ll temper any semblance of ambition I can muster up when not sleep deprived. Do I have the wherewithal to resist succumbing to subtle ”˜opt-out’ expectations?

Will I recognize myself or my spouse after a third? My child and daughter unapologetically transformed me from a C to an A cup. will a third indent my boobs into my chest cavity? With the additional laundry to fold and whining to endure, will I be continuously on the emotional brink? given the complexity of orchestrating the lives of three, I visualize rarely seeing my spouse over the next 15 years except to high five him while I take two to soccer and he takes one to a birthday party. Can our marriage endure the responsibility of another kid?

Then, there’s 70% of me that’s sure.

When I look at family pictures (the two where everyone’s vaguely staring at the camera), I wonder if I’m in that Back to the Future scene when people start slowly disappearing from the photo. It’s like there’s implied to be another kid showing up in that picture, on my lap, bringing much more delight and chaos.

When I’m out in public, I look for families of five. I feel initial relief when I see they’ve left the house fully clothed and seemingly bathed, and then I feel envy. I want the chance to create a romanticized, rowdy, Thanksgiving dinner table where my kids talk over each other and recollect traumatizing family memories with laughter and a hint of gratitude.

I also have this hopeful vision that I can be a mother of three and an ambitious professional. I respect women in my field who leapt (or maybe fell) into the messiness of three and seemingly thrived in their careers. They reassure me that I won’t descend into some Gymboree, Frozen abyss when my spouse and I are outnumbered. “I’ve got this,” I convince myself as I elbow my way onto their elusive team.

And I realize that while my profession matters to me, the “abyss” which I judgingly reference is where I claim remarkable joy. I love a good music together class and take pride in those baseball cupcakes I baked and icedfor my son’s second birthday. I belt out let It Go and revel in the chance to explain, to my four year old, what the lyrics imply as I build her feminist identity. Being involved in the meaningful and mundane gives me purpose.

And I want to multiply the fun and love. When my kids crack each other up at the dinner table for no reason, I want a third to share in the delight. When we initiate a spontaneous family dance party to the Jackson 5, I want another one to show off their moves. and when my child grabs my cheeks and shouts, “I love you, Mama,” I’m ready to procreate until the end of time.

In my darkest moments, I want a third because I worry losing a child. In an irrational way, a third feels like an insurance policy. It’s another layer of protection over my heart. If the unimaginable happens, I’ll have two remaining kids to fill the house with enough noise and love to possibly make life bearable.

The reasons for the 70% seem less rational. They’re much more emotion and gut and, to me, sound at the same time compelling and irresponsible.

That’s why I wince when asked, “Was it planned?” It seems I’m being asked, “Is it wanted?” Confusingly, it was sort of planned and of course wanted. And, when asked, “Are you excited?” I respond, “I think so.”

These nuanced answers feel lacking when referencing my unborn kid. But, they’re honest. In addition to anticipatory delight I also have anxiety and apprehension. I want to feel those issues without thinking I’m a awful mother. And, I want reassurance that when my child arrives, I’ll know that having a third might only be 70% a good idea, it’s 100% worth it.

Thanks, Chantal, for sharing this piece with us.

Related: ought to I have a baby? and ought to I have a second child?