end of an era.

It has been a pretty long while since I have written here.  I keep opening the page and hoping that words might appear, then they don't.  So I thought, rather than leaving it here lingering and open to change, I would just close it.  A clean break!

This blog has never exactly been huge (thank you my dear 82 google friend connect followers and 59 bloglovin folk!) but I have loved keeping it.  I loved having something to pour my energies into when my life was revolving around exams, I loved having a reason to take photos and be more mindful of my days and I loved having an excuse to take selfies with the chickens!
But since Faelen arrived, my motivation to sit behind the screen is gone.  These last seven months have changed everything, me, James, our home, the number of times I feel is acceptable to shower per week.  And I have loved every change.  But now, faced with a boy who has learnt to crawl I believe for the sole reason of reaching (and chewing) extension cables, my time is required in a hundred other ways.  I have nothing to add to the world of 'mummy bloggers' (sitting Faelen in front of the washing machine, like a personal wide-screen TV, is a legit parenting technique, right?) and I figure, if I can't do it properly, then leave it.

Thank you everyone who has ever commented or emailed, each one made my day.  If you are still left with any desire to see endless pictures of my beautiful babe (and my unwashed hair) I am on Instagram as @jaibess - please say hello!  
Anyway, this was fun, let's do it again some time?

in the Etsy shop - hand printed letter writing set.

Oh my, the weeks really are escaping me.  I can't believe it has been over a week since I wrote in this little space.  Faelen has discovered new games such as I'm going to throw everything off the highchair and cry until you pick it up and his continuing favourite everytime you look at something that is not me I am going to emit a shrill scream until you look back.  Impressive but time consuming! 

In bitesize sessions between these games, I have managed to finally put together these letter writing sets and upload them to Etsy.   I am really thrilled with how they turned out.  For a brief moment (when Faelen woke with a start and I got yellow ink in my eye) I thought about abandoning the project, but through primrose coloured tears I finished.  I am so glad I did - I have already sent a several envelopes out into the big wide world.

Now I have to go and retrieve various drooled on animals from the floor!  Yummy.

me, him and mondays.

Monday again.  Faelen's face says it all.
(Actually, that face was in response to my singing, but never mind).  




Mondays, in my new life as a SAHM, are a funny thing.  Mondays used to be the start of a long week of early mornings, placement, studying and essay writing that stretched out in front of me.  Now Mondays much resemble the previous day and the day before that - Faelen hasn't exactly grasped the concept of a lie-in yet!  
What Mondays do mean for me though is that the visitors have returned home, James is back at work and the house is once more just for me and Faelen.  After a busy weekend I am always slightly grateful for the peace of Monday (although, I should clarify, Mondays would be so much better if James didn't have to go back to work.  For a start I really could do with a cup of tea right about now)!

I never achieve a lot on a Monday, nor do I aim to, instead Mondays are a day for donkey shoes, gumming toys, ignoring laundry and snuggling on the sofa.  

lino carved letter writing paper.

Having got a bit excited about hand stamped letter writing paper a couple weeks ago, I couldn't get the idea out my head.  I have always loved sets of writing paper; my pocket money (and later my student loan) was often spent on packs of beautiful papers with matching envelopes and, if I was very lucky, coordinated stickers.  

I suffer from postal vanity - too often I run out of paper or envelopes and A4 printer paper with plain white business envelopes lack that magic.  
So whilst sat at the table in the dining room last week, with Faelen finally dozing upstairs in his cot (seriously, breakthrough!) I started doodling an idea for writing paper.  I wanted something with a cute motif and slightly wobbly lines, something a bit rough and ready but still special.  I wanted my perfect personalised writing paper.  And this idea was born.

A couple of lovely evenings chatting with James, drinking tea and listening to the radio with a lino carver in hand and it turned out just how I imagined.  Is it smug to say, I am thrilled with it? The magic porridge pot of unending writing paper!  Now I am just waiting for nap time to draw out some matching envelopes.

spring in the cemetary (not that the child would know it).

Hard to believe but we have actually had a couple days on which it has not rained.  In South West England.  I know right?  And like all who have lived their lives in the south west, no rain is the sign of a glorious day which cannot be spent inside.  

James and I went for a stroll around Arnos Vale.  Turns out spring is already happening.  I had one of those I can't believe how quickly time is flying moments whilst walking.  I mean, we have now lived in Bristol for six months.  We left Cardiff nine months ago.  Our newborn baby is four months old.  This picture was taken a year ago and the Primroses are out.  Just what the heck?!   

That said it really was a lovely walk.  I walk here with Faelen often but I have my suspicions he has not yet seen it, he is usually asleep within ten paces of leaving our front door.

imaginopolis and playing with typography.

When I was about 8 years old, Father Christmas bought me a computer CD called Creative Writer.  It was a word processor set in the Imaginopolis - an improbably tall building with many levels, each for a different writing skill.  
On the first floor was story writing - the resident Mr McZee provided hilarious prompts (well, to the average eight year old) for story writing inspiration on topics as diverse and mature as monsters, bogies and underpants.  
My favourite was the third floor - the poster floor.  McZee provided fonts and templates to make the ultimate poster.  I spent a long time designing posters and invitations for the penny sales I would host (selling particularly shiny conkers, my 'art' and other junk found around my bedroom) for the family to peruse.  
The real challenge was to use as many fonts as possible on a single page!

Sadly, these days I host fewer penny sales so I have to think of new ways to channel my inner Imaginopolis!



So I had a play at typographical drawing.  This is a quote from my mother.  If you ever mention the words deja vu, unfailingly she will add all over again.  And then laugh.  Every. Time.  

boba-wrap baby-wearing.

Having read this article I was talking with another new mum I know through the NCT about the rubbish that expectant parents are convinced they need and the things that we couldn't do without.

For me, the best thing we bought was the Boba Wrap.  It is no secret that I love baby wearing.  Whenever I leave the house, Faelen is permanently strapped to my front.  There is something so special about having my cuddly radiator snugged into my chest as we walk in the cold.  I can hear him breathe, snore and snuffle against me as he sleeps.  When he is awake he stares up at my face with those huge blue eyes and talks endlessly at me - I can only guess what about.

I am always asked how my back is holding up but my beautiful chunky boy now weighs over a stone and I still wear him daily without difficulty (in fact it has probably helped speed up my slow progression back towards my pre-pregnancy shape).  Simply put, I get endless enjoyment from being able to share the outdoors with him.

Below are a handful of pictures from my first fretful days of wearing the Boba Wrap - it took me a good week before I was comfortable wearing it without clutching Faelen just in case. 

[In case you're interested, the one thing we could have really done without was a very well meaning gift - a kit to take an impression of your baby's hand print.  In principle a lovely idea but getting a newborn with scrunched up fists to make an imprint is basically impossible - we are now the proud owner of a fist print and some kind of splodgy dent].