On reflection...

You know it's Christmas when...

Credit: William Lam

you lose track of time
your belly feels permanently distended

you eat Quality Street instead of supper

you empty the dishwasher twice a day

you run out of underwear 

you pick pine needles out of your jumper

there's no more space in the recycling bin

you start talking about a 'dry January'

you play board games with the kids

you find shreds of wrapping paper under the sofa

you have to unpack the fridge every time you want the milk
you tolerate a Lego super-structure in the middle of your kitchen

you eat re-fried sprouts until the end of December

Tidings of goodwill

It has been a bumpy ride, this run-up to Christmas. My children are excited to be on holiday and the house is filled with light and festive paraphernalia, but outside our cosy bubble there are so many tragic events blighting the world. Guilt is my primary emotion. How have I, and everyone I love, been granted such good fortune?

Val (centre) with asylum seekers and other volunteers

Even as I write, parents of a friend (Sam Jonkers of Henley's Jonkers Rare Books) have been visiting child refugees at a reception centre in Realville, southwest France. Val and Malcolm Johnstone retired to France some years ago and have been hosting older refugees at their home near Toulouse. The kids in the reception centre recently learnt that their asylum applications to join family in the UK had been turned down. It is a case of hopes dashed after months of suffering and hardship.

Meditations on a festive theme

Hermaphrodite Mum
Three kids and a single mum

My children still believe in Father Christmas - even the eldest one, aged 12. It amazes me that I have managed to hoodwink them this long, without inadvertently spilling the beans. To be honest, it's killing me. I just want to shout: "HE DOESN'T EXIST!" It's me - my darlings - your dear, old mama, who excels in wish-fulfilment. 

When to put up the tree?

But, of course, I can't. There is magic and excitement to be maintained. If I told them it was Mummy filling their stockings each year, their little eyes would roll over with disappointment and ennui. 

Instead, I adopt the psychology of a serial adulterer, secretly hoping to be found out one day. I use the same wrapping paper for the stockings fillers as I do for the 'main' presents around the tree, in the hope that they will rumble me. I even leave price labels on sometimes. Last year, Middle Child idly remarked, "Oh look, Father Christmas shops at John Lewis. Isn't that funny?"

A taste-maker for Xmas

People watching: 
Kate Williams, founder of Handpicked by Kate

Some years ago, I was introduced to a young woman at a party. Around her neck, she wore a golden bumblebee, which instantly caught my eye. The necklace I coveted was by Alex Monroe, a brand I hadn't heard of at the time. It was my first (but not last) encounter with this quirky, British jewellery-designer and also with Kate Williams, one of those effortlessly stylish women who was clearly a taste-maker. 

Kate Williams: 'I really love design'

When I discovered that Kate recently set up her own website, Handpicked by Kate, selling a range of brands that she has selected herself, it didn't come as a surprise. "I really love design," she tells me. "Friends used to come to me and say, 'Where can I get a good throw?'" The 28-year old had always wanted to set up something on her own and decided to realise her dream by creating an online boutique.

Friendship 'trumps' politics

Many of us will remember where we were last Wednesday. The day a borderline racist and a man who thinks nothing of mocking the disabled became the leader of the free world. I actually cried in my kitchen when I heard that Donald J. Trump would become the next president of the United States.

Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with our American friends

These seismic events were all the more poignant because one of my dearest friends - an American - happened to be staying with us at the time, along with her two children. We all struggled to comprehend that Trump was to succeed President Obama, a man who by contrast exemplifies everything that is great about America.

Hotel living

For 51 weeks of the year, I rule over my children's diet with a rod of iron. Not too much sugar, oily fish twice a week, live yoghurt and five fruit-and-veg-a-day. For one week of the year, we stay in a hotel and eat buffet breakfast. 

During our recent stay in Gran Canaria, my son began his day with sausages, bacon, waffles, chocolate sauce and whipped cream (all on the same plate). This was followed by pastries, a churro doughnut, a croissant, more chocolate sauce and a little experimentation with the cereal dispensers. "We have to get our money's worth," he told me as he skipped off for thirds.

People-watching by the pool

At the dinner buffet, he would follow each plate of savouries with a sweet to ensure that he didn't run out of space for his dessert(s). Thanks to such due diligence, he managed four courses on most nights.

Pause for thought

On Sunday evening, as I was quietly reading my book, I experienced a zapping sensation in my head. A bit like when you crick your neck, but it was inside my brain. Shucks, I thought, I've got a brain tumour. Naturally, I consulted Dr. Google and it turned out I was experiencing a symptom of perimenopause. Fab. (Although, marginally better than a brain tumour, I suppose.)

In the days before I'd even heard of perimenopause!

My 43rd birthday is looming, which means ageing is on my mind at the moment. A friend of mine, Channel 4 News presenter Cathy Newman, is a big advocate for breaking the taboo associated with menopause and the various indignities that women face as we grow older and wiser. So in the spirit of sisterhood, I have decided to highlight the challenges of the dreaded 'change'.

Between the covers

Some of you will know that my nine-year old son, Tristan, was a finalist in the Henley Literary Festival short-story competition, run by Dragonfly Tea. Just for a bit of fun, I thought I would post his entry here on the blog. Have a read and see what you think!

The 2016 finalists for the children's short-story competition

Hi! I’m Larry the bookworm and I’m hooked to books! Adventure, fairytale, scary, funny, anything! If it’s a book, I’ll read it! I’ve probably read over a thousand, but then I do live in a library where there is always a book to read. The book I’m reading at the moment is called ‘Evil is Back,’ the sequel of ‘Evil in Front.’

Bring them home

This week I have decided to write a letter to my local member of parliament, John Howell, asking him to help hundreds of child refugees who are eligible to come to the UK but are left to languish in Calais.

Dear Mr Howell, 

In February this year you kindly wrote to my son and his fellow members of the so-called Secret Society of Nature to congratulate them on raising funds for the World Wildlife Fund. Needless to say, the children were thrilled to receive your letter which recognised their efforts to save endangered animals from extinction.

© Prazis | Dreamstime.com

Today I am writing to you about the child refugees in Calais. While we have a duty to look after our wildlife, we also have a moral obligation to protect vulnerable children and young people, particularly those who have fled war or violence in their own countries. 

Window on the world

It's here, it's started! My brain is buzzing, my heart is full. Can you tell I'm excited? The Henley Literary Festival kicked off this week with a host of writers, performers and literary stalwarts. The festival and I go way back. Ten years ago, when it first opened its doors, it took my hand and said, Stop pining for London - look what Henley has to offer! We've been friends ever since.

Comedian Ben Miller asks: 'Is there life beyond earth?'

For one week in the year, I cram my head with knowledge. It's like I'm making up for lost time - and perhaps I am. My biggest regret from my university years was not attending enough lectures. At the time, bed seemed a more inviting prospect first thing in the morning. In my callow youth I took 'learning' for granted. Now, entrenched in the humdrum world of work and parenthood, I can't get enough of it.

Drama in the night

Hermaphrodite Mum
Three kids and a single mum

"Blow winds and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow!" was King Lear's famed reaction to the storm. "Where the hell are my children?" was mine last week as I lay in bed listening to rolls of thunder shake our house to its very foundations. 

Where are the kids?
© Jaroslav Noska | Dreamstime.com

Normally, a rollicking, good thunderstorm never fails to bring all three children running into my bedroom like rats deserting a sinking ship, but last week as the storm bellowed outside my open window, there was no sign of them. My first thought was: Oh well, I'll just go back to sleep! But then I started to panic. What if Walking Toddler was a gibbering wreck, too frightened even to call out my name? What if one of them has been struck by lightening unbeknownst to me?

Don't stop believing...

Self-belief is a powerful but fragile gift. One of my personal heroes has always been Amelia Earhart, a pioneering pilot and a woman of incredible courage and vision. This week I was reading about about how she may have ended her days as an injured castaway on a remote Pacific island. New research indicates that she made a series of distress calls from the island after her Lockheed Electra crashed in the summer of 1937 during the final stages of her attempt to fly around the globe. 

Amelia Earhart: an inspiration to modern women
© Yuri Yukhimchuk | Dreamstime.com 

A celebrity in depression-era America, Earhart earned her stripes after she became the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic in 1932. Five years later, on the cusp of turning 40, she sought one more challenge: to become the first woman to fly around the world. "I have this feeling that there is just about one more good flight left in my system," she declared rather ominously.

Passing through Barcelona

A visitor to the Skybar, Grand Hotel Central

So I have a friend who is currently sailing around the world in a yacht with her husband and young family. I am following their progress avidly on Facebook - they are mid-Atlantic as I write. A small part of me would love to be on that boat, embarking on the adventure of a lifetime, instead of dancing circles in Henley-on-Thames. But it will never be. I don't have the nerve or the skills required.

Travelling has its own mystique for me. As the child of ex-pats, I have never felt entirely comfortable living in England. I much prefer the thrill of foreign cultures, even if it's only a week in France! Somehow, I feel more alive when I'm in someone else's country.