Growing - Part 1

This year's spring and summer have been so very full that when I started to look through my photographs I was a little overwhelmed at the prospect of narrowing them down to a select few to post here. This summer's weather has perhaps been the best that I can remember for a long time which has been a true blessing for the family that spends a good deal of its time outdoors. Browsing through these pictures I see that we have certainly made the very most of those long, largely sun-filled days. We have walked, played in and explored more corners of this special place than ever before - particularly enjoying the good number of swimming and paddling spots in these valleys. Lumb falls, Blake Dene, Jack Bridge - we've done them all, complete with neon-orange arm bands which seemed to glow in the dark of those shady brown pools. We even found the almost mythical Gadding's Dam - a reservoir high up on the moors with its own little sandy beach.

 

As well as the paddling, there's been horse riding and bike riding, running and climbing, building and gathering, and watching our allotment grow and produce. The more we've been outside, the more at ease I have watched my children become, hair increasingly tangled and streaked with blonde; skin darkening and gathering scrapes and scratches, each telling a tale of an act of bravery or folly. They have grown alongside the vegetation they crawl through, becoming more sure-footed, more confident in their bodies with each passing adventure. They have discovered more by observing more - spotting bugs, birds and berries with the excitement of growing familiarity and knowledge. My own looking and understanding has been stretched with their help, their constant questioning and enthusiasm pushing us all to discover more, love more deeply.

 

I have realised too that we are shifting out of the little years; I am gratefully aware that I can now shower whilst the boys are awake - something I feared may never happen - and there are short fleetingly precious moments when I'm not immediately required and am able to daydream a little; creating tiny bubbles of sweet space for my weary brain. They are growing up I notice, and I am caught between wonder at the independent boys they are becoming and sadness for the babies they no longer are. I try hard to keep in mind that they grow lean but no less loving, they talk with more knowingness but make me laugh more and, perhaps the most beautiful thing for a mother, they grow better friends with each passing season. Of course they still bicker and fight (a lot!) but they've also become co-conspirators, accomplices, comrades. They pore over books together: imagine worlds and hilarious far-fetched scenarios; help each other when they're hurt and come running for me when one or the other gets stuck up a tree. Like peas in a pod, where you find one you'll invariably find the other: my little adventurers - curious, kind and always together.

 

Home again, home again

We're back from our wee jaunt to the beautiful Llyn peninsula - I forgot to actually put on here that we were away, so apologies for the unexplained absence! Just goes to show what an appalling amateur I am.

We were almost completely unplugged for our entire time away which, I discovered, was very good for my brain. Relaxing is so much easier when you can get some time away from the massive information overload that happens every day here on planet internet.

Here is a list, in no particular order, of some other things that I discovered or rediscovered whilst away (with pictures, obviously):

• I love swimming in the sea. Even when it was so cold that it took my breath away, once acclimatised I had to rely on numb hands to signal that it really was time to get out

• When the sun shines, there really is no better place to holiday than these isles of ours. The coastline of the Llyn peninsula is particularly spectacular

• Holidaying with grandparents is a good idea. Coming home and losing their input with the boys has made me realise how much I was able to switch off with them about. Thanks Pam and Colin - it wouldn't have been half as harmonious without you!

• I have lost the ability to read. It's worrying but I seem to have developed the attention span of a goldfish. I took several books on holiday and didn't really manage to read any. On the upside I did read a few poems - I'm hoping this means that I still have a little literary leaning.
• Camping with children is great fun. I already knew this but was reminded again on seeing how excited and happy they were to be sleeping in a tent. They also slept better than they ever do at home...since our return, they have reverted to their unsatisfactory night-time habits, much to my despair.
• Everybody loves a sunset. It's one of those things that unites us the world over. There were many of us who headed down to the cliffs each evening to watch the sun sink to the sea.

• The light from a setting sun is amazing for photographs

• Picnics taste better on beaches
• Searching for beautiful stones and shells or chasing sand bugs on a beach is all the entertainment children need.

• Cycling is totally brilliant 

I'd like to say something also about the campsite we stayed at but I fear that may need to wait until another day.

Playing away

After a weekend of switching off I'm back in my life contemplating how to slip off my beaded sandals and slip back into motherhood. Having waited five years to leave them overnight, going away without the boys for the first time ever was perfectly timed. I was definitely ready for a mini-separation and they were pretty laid back about me going. As soon as we were on the road I felt the responsibilties of family life fall away. With a good friend at my side, we drove towards the sea.

We pitched our tent looking out to the bay and exclaimed a fair bit at our good fortune. The sun which had surprised us on the trip out was setting, leaving a brooding sky suspended over a dark sea. High on a heady mix of sea air, freedom and friendship we meandered into town for an evening of music, beer and good company. Unfortunately, so carefree were we that we forgot to take notice of our route and spent a considerable amount of time at a very late hour wandering about clueless as to how to get back to our campsite. Thanks, however, to my companion's calmness and positivity in the face of my growing panic, we were soon back at base.

What followed was heart-sharing, sunshine, another friend arriving, coastal walks and the deep peace that comes from totally letting go. I took every opportunity to lay my bones upon the ground and breath in the warmth of the sun and the vastness of the sky. No worries or hurries, just connection and ease. The god of good times was smiling on us and we were granted the sublime combination of heavenly weather and breathtaking surroundings.





Oh, and we ate bread...lots of bread - from French sticks to pain au chocolat fried on a grill pan, we didn't hold back. Crazy times...

When motherhood first happens many of us are overwhelmed by the realisation of what it really means to be completely responsible for these little souls who've landed on our laps. Although the initial shock passes, the responsibility remains; being able to step away even for a brief moment felt like a gift. I felt a lightness and a sense of self that is sometimes difficult to locate when deep in the work of mothering.

I am infinitely grateful for this time away, for the space and rejuvenation it offered my poor weary brain. The challenge for me now is how to carry that into real life, how to remember to breathe and let go when all around me is crumbling. When those moments of awful challenge face me, I'm hoping I can meet them a little more patiently and with a little more grace when I recall the sea, the sky and unzipping our tent each morning to the dazzling light of the day.

Mmmm castles...

Whilst in Wales, we visited a castle. Who doesn't love a castle in magnificent scenery on a freezing cold day in April?

Valleys

This will be a post about our visit to Wales. This was over a week ago. I'm often late in life and I'm starting to worry that I will transfer this shoddiness to my musings. I Must Try Harder.

Belatedly...We visited the Grandparents in Trefriw, Snowdonia. Wales, and particularly this bit of it, is a truly magical place. I love coming here and so do the boys - mostly for the attentions and attractions of Rob's parents, but the place itself brings peace. Trefriw is quiet and quaint, with waterfalls and wooded hills. And a garden...

For Eli's birthday, Nain and Grandad gave him a metal detector, and much time was spent digging holes. These explorations did not always yield treasure...but with a little intervention and some luck, there was enough to fuel further curiosity.

For me, no visit to Trefriw is complete without a visit to the Trefriw Woollen Mill. Full of its own woolly magic, I can spend ridiculous amounts of time here. Tweeds on the roll and rugs and blankets as far as the eye can see make for a thoroughly satisfying wander.

I'll hopefully be returning very soon.