I find the whole maternity clothing market a very strange concept. I am normally the sort of gal who combines some classic investment pieces with high street up to the minute fashion in a very mix and match way (think Reiss dress with New Look pointed ballerinas or H+M jumpsuit complemented with Pigalle Loboutin's). On finding out I was pregnant I did what most women do and fired up my PC to scour sites (lets face it there's nothing in the shops so my whole shopping concept has had to change with immediate effect) and promptly shut my laptop down.
It is quite frankly the most disappointing experience ever and for the first time ever I get why Gap essentials become the staples of so many friends wardrobes as a pregnancy certainly rules you out of so many trends.
Cinched waists aside this Autumn I also have the dilemma that my pregnancy spans summer, autumn and winter so whilst that involves a lot of looks that will only ever be worn short term if I buy high street (and there's no guarantee I'll ever have another child so why pay exorbitant prices for higher end branded maternity clothing as it is irrelevant on one level how long it will last) it all feels a bit wasteful, both financially and actually clothes wise (I have visions of Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall piling up clothes that have hardly been worn whilst parading me naked around them reminding me of the effort that goes into fabric production and no doubt the sweat shop conditions in which they were produced).
Don't get me wrong, tops and jeans, no problem. They are after all staples. Dresses and more formal wear however is where I struggle (we wont tell Hugh about my floral bomber jacket, that doesn't count!). I have been to two weddings this year and both rather than being my usual fun shopping experience with besties and a cheeky prosecco were instead tears and tantrums at a laptop looking at tents aka trapeze dresses (lets face it you dont need a maternity one of those as there's enough room on them already), body con lace numbers or floral stretchy polyester all washed down with a sparkling water and not a friend in sight!
I have however found a way around my staples shopping as it were and have invested wisely in a few pieces that are absolutely not maternity wear but are made with quality fabric (and ethically produced so no need for the ignominy Hugh) that can be worn whether pregnant or not.
I came across Swedish clothing company me&i via a university friend of my husbands, Claire. She had taken a career break to have her family and whilst she was off had decided she wanted to still do something for herself so she became a sales consultant for me&i. It cost her just £100 to rent her rail of clothing from them (plus P+P) and she worked around her children doing house parties, one to one appointments at houses and events such as rugby club fairs and so forth. That way she controls when she works and earns 20% from all sales - nifty idea eh?!
It was only when I was bemoaning my shopping experience and Claire suggested a a party at my house (at least that way I could watch my besties drink prosecco and I could actually try on clothes) that I actually took any notice of the brand itself.
Their Autumn/Winter collection is bright, on trend and because the clothes are designed for real women then the give in them allows me to wear them even when pregnant (and because the fabric is of good quality they snap straight back into shape)!
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| Multi-striped Round Neck Dress |
I settled on the rainbow wrap dress, multi-striped round neck dress and a cheeky pair of magic pants (a cross between yoga and harem trousers that have a fold up/fold down waist and ankle cuff so can be dressed up or down depending on what you feel like). Both dresses are perfect for wearing either on a night out or in a work environment and the fact that I can wear them beyond pregnancy is a massive bonus and makes them well worth the money (and circa £50 a dress they weren't that pricey anyway!).
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| Suspicious Cat Tee and Magic Pants |
They also do a children's range (with turn up cuffs to allow little ones to get repeated wear out of tunics and tops) that is unisex and vibrant, but right now I'm not quite in that market!
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| Rainbow Dress |
To find your nearest me&andi Consultant or to enquire about joining their team please click here (vacancies currently exist across UK)
Our potty training journey has been eventful, to say the least.
My son was ready before two; he showed a lot of interest in my toilet habits (a bit like my cat who insists on sitting on my lap whilst I go for a wee).
We were on track. I was so proud, he poo'd and wee'd in his potty - a few accidents here and there but it started VERY well.
There was mainly a cheeky poo in the trouser leg whilst playing with his trains, or a nice 'present' after his bath and clapping himself for his achievement on the mat rather than a nappy. Well, what can you say?!
We also had the standard floaters in the bath, and me fishing them out with his £1.99 stacking cups (best purchase ever).
Then it all went HORRIBLY wrong.
My son, Albie, 2, suffered from horrendous constipation - screaming and crying through a poo, rushing to the furthest corner of the house if he ever felt the rumble of potential movement.
It then got the point of refusing to push and holding his toilet movements in.
Three to four days later he'd have a temperature, be irascible, refusing to eat - I can only imagine how I'd feel if I was clogged up, but for a little baby - it's far more traumatic.
Picture this; It got to the point when I saw him bend over and go bright red, I’d end up throwing him onto the floor and having to manipulate (pull) the poo out of him, then after the hard bit would follow a few days of 'slurry'.
It was so heart-breaking to see - we realised then we had a problem, and he associated the potty with pain.
Now, he has to take a poo softener almost every day to help him go; Movical is prescribed by the doctor and is an osmotic laxative for chronic constipation. It relieves constipation because it causes the water it is taken with to be retained in the bowel, which help soften the stools and make it easier to pass them.
So we're at a very tricky point. He's just starting pre-school (and meant to be fully dry) and I'm sure I'll be frowned upon for my ‘poor’ job.
So, we started our potty training journey again with Huggies® Pull Ups® and are using their six step potty training success guide.
Step One - Readiness
Check if your little one is ready. You'll know. They'll start to tell you if their wee'ing or need a poo. Do not base your decision on age.
My little one started telling me quite early, but we're at a stage now where I have to ask him.
A small percentage of children are fully trained before 24 months old, but most make the leap around their third. Girls seem to be much easier to train than boys (we've seen in my NCT circle this) due to the sitting down aspect, but if you are worried and they get to 3 and there's nothing and no signs - visit your GP.
Visit this helpful link below for the 8 signs of readiness.
Step Two - Say goodbye to nappies, hello to Huggies
Whether you go straight to pants, and probably experience a lot of accidents and washing, or opt for the Huggies option - this is your imperative step two.
We were provided with big boy pants, Huggies Pull-Ups Day Time and Huggies Night Time, rewards such as stickers and toys, a couple of potties dotted about, a few bathroom toys for use while waiting on the potty for the magic to happen.
Huggies Pull-Ups teach little one that they are making the step to a big kid, and have boy and girl Disney designs to help make potty training fun.
What's great about them is they have the right amount of protection to manage accidents whilst your little one is getting the hang of things, and they have soft, stretchy sides to enable them to be pulled up and down easily like normal pants. Reseal able sides help make them easier to remove in the case of BIGGER accidents, which we're all so familiar with....
Step Three - Start Practising
For us, it's differentiating the difference between being naked and wearing pull ups/pants and the fact you need to pull them down in order to do your wares and obviously being naked is just a mad sprint to the potty.
Practise certainly makes perfect. I guess it's like driving a car (which I still can't do) and it's being aware to go, pulling down pants and bottoms, sitting on the potty, washing hands - there's a lot to remember.
Try to make potty time fun, like we do - and turn all the mini activities into a game, praise where due, or my tip - keep highlighting the fact my little one is such a 'big boy' and clever. Although the other day he didn't want to do something so he became a 'big boy, little boy, big boy'. Ok.
As part of our kit, Huggies sent us stickers, a potty which plays music. Whenever he wees into it, it plays the Lambada in an odd birthday card tinny kind of tune (you know the ones that blast into happy birthday when you open them).
So we've just opted for the simple praise, a sticker for a number two (which really hasn't happened very often of late) he's so frightened to go - that he'd rather do it into his pull-up and sit in it, than alert me and have to sit on the toilet/potty and push it out. Luckily I now know the sign to look out for; him lying on his front and/or hiding under a table, in a corner so I whip him onto the potty, but it doesn't always work...
Step Four - Learn from Wet to Dry
This is probably the hardest part.
If you're my son, you'll be happy to hide the fact there's a nugget in your pants in order to get out of being changed/touched, sat on the potty.
Wee's - we've mustered very well, and the easiness of the pull-up has helped him make the transition into pants very quickly. However, the step backwards is, overnight we put on the night-time Huggies, because I know at some point in the night/early hours of the morning the inevitable poo will start making its way down the colon ready for his 'regular man' morning poop.
As with everything with children, routine is key.
Teaching them the difference between wet and dry and showing them they have wee'd in their pants and it's much better to do it in the potty - and being dry is best is a way of helping them understand the end achievement.
We play the pour the wee/poo down the toilet and my little one gets to flush it down - games, fun, routine - for us, it's the most important thing to make a child feel confident about their wee and poo achievements.
Step Five - Be Consistent 24/7
We're just getting to this stage - wee's, we've mustered. We do our last wee before bedtime, but I'm just that little bit frightened to leave him completely pant/Huggie-free due to impending poos.
I actually forgot to put a Huggies Pull-Up on a few weeks back, and heard shuffling about upstairs. I ran up thinking he may be being naughty and not in bed, but the clever little bean had got up, found his potty and done a poo on it!
The nerve pathways between the bladder and the brain must grow strong enough to awaken a child from a deep sleep (gluten regularly does this to me) but not only that, your little one has to be alert enough to haul themselves out of bed to get to the loo before the inevitable accident.
To help with potty training success, it's best to take a consistent and relaxed approach. Accidents are very normal - so they should be handled patiently, and with support. Not like me last night going mad because the potty was near him yet he decided to have an accident all over my cow hide carpet.
Step Six - Keep up the Good Work!
We're Stuck between the first four steps at the moment, we have good and bad days, but every child is different when it comes to potty training.
It could be the fact my son goes to his nanny and grandad who have always been consistent and great when it comes to his toilet movements. But then as a single mum he seems to play me up and push my buttons, and may have a slightly different routine at his fathers (despite me drumming in what needs to be done).
The main thing for rewarding good work is praise. I find this every day in work - when I get praise I'm buzzing. I want to do more and achieve more. So I can only hope this is the same with my toddler.
The Huggies six steps guide advises to not just yell out 'wow, clever, great job!' etc, but to make an observation about the skill your child just demonstrated. Perhaps, 'Well done, you held your wee so you made it to the toilet." or "You pulled your trousers/pants down all on your own."
Finding the right praise is a great way of being respectful of your child's growing up and independence without any pressure from your end.
* Sponsored Post*
It's not often I'm virtuous but when I am - I do it with gusto - no Mc Donald's, gluten, or alcohol in sight.
In short, I'm one extreme to the other - a gluttonous pig inhaling chocolate and ice-creams; to quaffing smoothies, quinoa and anything else of generally unpalatable taste and texture in order to shift the bloat.
So when the team had the chance to visit Ragdale hall (a hydro health spa) I got my fine fettle face on.
We headed to the acclaimed Ragdale Hall, where, despite working in beauty for eight years, I've never actually got the chance to visit.
On initial arrival the grounds appeared very well groomed. Much like the staff themselves. Unfortunately I couldn't say the same for myself. We'd both been putting the world's to right, running businesses, blogs and babies (baby making in Cat's case) all very exhausting to say the least.
The Hall itself is located in the rolling Leicestershire countryside. The journey there from Essex was very pleasant - especially with Cat to witter away to on the 2-hour schlep.
There was an air of serenity (minus us stumbling along with our heavy bags we needn't have brought) and we loved ye olde world charm of the Victorian architecture complimented by state-of-the-art spa and modern chill-out areas.
When it comes to a spa. I don't ask for much, but if I want a sauna and a hot tub - I can go to my local gym, right? (It's a bit posh is my gym).
But I get listless, not to mention hot and bothered in the standard sauna, whirlpool and experience showers.
Give me a rose-petal scented steam room, twinkly relaxation room and a pan pipe/dolphin chorus for good measure - and I'm sold.
Well, I wasn't just sold - I was signing up to stay for the week (like literally pricing up a week).
The service and the general feeling is phenomenal - not a word I use often, but became enamoured with after watching a drunk guest on Come Dine with Me who kept repeating it after every mouthful of dessert.
In the past, the words 'Thermal Spa' always brought what I can only describe as disappointment - as I mentioned before, a sauna, whirlpool and freezing cold showers ends up aggravating rather than relaxing me.
I'm the token screamer with my howls reverberating around the spa area.
On entry to the TS (thermal spa), I really wasn't expecting much.
Cue a condescending sniff (so ungrateful) to discovering what I thought was a dry, boring slab of marble that I should plonk myself on and sit in silence. ...
After opening the door, there was marble, in the form of steps, yes!
At the bottom of those was a cave, filled with water and illuminated by multi-tonal lights in pinks, greens and pretty warm hues.
If it wasn't for the silence and an awkward stomach gurgle ( FYI I can't not talk for less than 5 minutes) I would have stayed in there and shrivelled up like one of the prunes that I was later served up for breakfast. It was divine! There was an inside rapid pool that lead to outside (pictured below) I won't spoil it for you if you decide to visit - but the TS had a LOT to offer two weary ladies.
I wondered if we were getting preferential treatment, it certainly felt like it. But then I realised that everyone is treated with the utmost care and individuality.
We weren't A-listers - but for that weekend felt like P Diddy flipping deuces at every opportunity.
Everyone receives a welcome drink on arrival and after every lunch and dinner, tea and coffee is on the house. Which, in effect, makes it feel like it's home from home; 'Cuppa tea, darl?'
There's none of this churning the guests out, hurrying them along and conveyer belt treatments like so many other spas. Everything is in your own time and, well, just refreshing really.
I also had a bloody lovely therapist, Heidi.
(Let's all give Heidi a massive Heidi high-five.)
We were assigned to each other by chance, as you usually are (doh).
The facial I received was tremendously relaxing, I probably dropped some zzz's mid- massage as my spotty, aggravated skin was transported into silky, smooth and glowing.
After an hour of pummelling and enlivening using only the finest Decleor from their mandarine range (scented like sweet marmalade) it also has nourishing ingredients like cranberry and argan oil for parched skin like mine.
A quick Amazon purchase later, and I've now got this collection at home and LOVING it (quick newsflash; recently smashed on the floor).
I then booked up another two treatments with Heidi as I was hugely impressed - and trust me, like Gillian McKeith is to turds, I'm the beauty alternative.
I could honestly go on and on about our much needed weekend away, food was top notch, company was even better (go, Cat!) and the ultimate achievement?
We relaxed.
Babyurbeautiful were sent to Ragdale Spa to review, Overnight reviver break from £211pp including treatments, breakfast, lunch and dinner.
In short, I'm one extreme to the other - a gluttonous pig inhaling chocolate and ice-creams; to quaffing smoothies, quinoa and anything else of generally unpalatable taste and texture in order to shift the bloat.
So when the team had the chance to visit Ragdale hall (a hydro health spa) I got my fine fettle face on.
We headed to the acclaimed Ragdale Hall, where, despite working in beauty for eight years, I've never actually got the chance to visit.
On initial arrival the grounds appeared very well groomed. Much like the staff themselves. Unfortunately I couldn't say the same for myself. We'd both been putting the world's to right, running businesses, blogs and babies (baby making in Cat's case) all very exhausting to say the least.
The Hall itself is located in the rolling Leicestershire countryside. The journey there from Essex was very pleasant - especially with Cat to witter away to on the 2-hour schlep.
There was an air of serenity (minus us stumbling along with our heavy bags we needn't have brought) and we loved ye olde world charm of the Victorian architecture complimented by state-of-the-art spa and modern chill-out areas.
 |
| Ravishing Ragdale Hall |
When it comes to a spa. I don't ask for much, but if I want a sauna and a hot tub - I can go to my local gym, right? (It's a bit posh is my gym).
But I get listless, not to mention hot and bothered in the standard sauna, whirlpool and experience showers.
Give me a rose-petal scented steam room, twinkly relaxation room and a pan pipe/dolphin chorus for good measure - and I'm sold.
Well, I wasn't just sold - I was signing up to stay for the week (like literally pricing up a week).
The service and the general feeling is phenomenal - not a word I use often, but became enamoured with after watching a drunk guest on Come Dine with Me who kept repeating it after every mouthful of dessert.
In the past, the words 'Thermal Spa' always brought what I can only describe as disappointment - as I mentioned before, a sauna, whirlpool and freezing cold showers ends up aggravating rather than relaxing me.
I'm the token screamer with my howls reverberating around the spa area.
On entry to the TS (thermal spa), I really wasn't expecting much.
Cue a condescending sniff (so ungrateful) to discovering what I thought was a dry, boring slab of marble that I should plonk myself on and sit in silence. ...
After opening the door, there was marble, in the form of steps, yes!
At the bottom of those was a cave, filled with water and illuminated by multi-tonal lights in pinks, greens and pretty warm hues.
 |
| Twinkly lights at their best |
 |
| Outdoor Pool Vibes |
I wondered if we were getting preferential treatment, it certainly felt like it. But then I realised that everyone is treated with the utmost care and individuality.
We weren't A-listers - but for that weekend felt like P Diddy flipping deuces at every opportunity.
Everyone receives a welcome drink on arrival and after every lunch and dinner, tea and coffee is on the house. Which, in effect, makes it feel like it's home from home; 'Cuppa tea, darl?'
There's none of this churning the guests out, hurrying them along and conveyer belt treatments like so many other spas. Everything is in your own time and, well, just refreshing really.
I also had a bloody lovely therapist, Heidi.
(Let's all give Heidi a massive Heidi high-five.)
We were assigned to each other by chance, as you usually are (doh).
The facial I received was tremendously relaxing, I probably dropped some zzz's mid- massage as my spotty, aggravated skin was transported into silky, smooth and glowing.
After an hour of pummelling and enlivening using only the finest Decleor from their mandarine range (scented like sweet marmalade) it also has nourishing ingredients like cranberry and argan oil for parched skin like mine.
A quick Amazon purchase later, and I've now got this collection at home and LOVING it (quick newsflash; recently smashed on the floor).
I then booked up another two treatments with Heidi as I was hugely impressed - and trust me, like Gillian McKeith is to turds, I'm the beauty alternative.
I could honestly go on and on about our much needed weekend away, food was top notch, company was even better (go, Cat!) and the ultimate achievement?
We relaxed.
Babyurbeautiful were sent to Ragdale Spa to review, Overnight reviver break from £211pp including treatments, breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Hi, I'm Cat. I'm new to this site but here to stay.
After a short hiatus and a mini makeover, we've both (myself & Lauren) put our heads together and decided to rebirth the baby (URbeautiful baby), so to speak.
I'm going to regale you with my very long tale of how it took me to become part of the 'club' I hankered after for so long.
When I first toyed with the idea of blogging on Baby Ur Beautiful, it was going to be from a slightly different perspective – it was going to be for the baby-less; the women that apparently don’t hold a stake in societies future according to some failed leaders.
After years of peeing on sticks at various times in a month, faddy diets and the, “You’re leaving it a bit late” comments (which forced me to bury my head deeper into that cheeky bottle of Marlborough/gin and end the night sobbing on my friends shoulders).
I remained the taboo one – the one without a child, and it's hard to forget these comments as my story eventually got its happy ending.
Don’t get me wrong. There were rays of hope. I got pregnant fairly quickly after we had decided to “start trying”.
Six months after getting married I gagged at the smell of broccoli (which I love) shouted a lot at my husband, and suddenly it dawned on me – I was pregnant!
I basked in my smug secret, idly looked at baby clothes and drank ginger ale from a champagne glass clad in my bridesmaid gear at my BFF’s wedding (theoretically I was an Usherette but that takes too long to explain!)
It was to be short lived, however.
Two weeks after the giddy delight of watching two blue lines pop up on a stick it all went horribly wrong. In hindsight I’d ignored some key signs that it was about to. I’d searched chat sites for reassurance; brown discharge = normal, right sided cramping = normal, morning sickness miraculously disappearing at 8.5 weeks = normal.
Hospitals don’t deal with miscarriage very well – in fact they are fairly useless.
On one level I can understand why; there’s nothing they can do and you are not ill.
On another level I question the motives of some health care professionals for choosing such a vocation.
It was a Bank Holiday and we had gone into London to support a friend who had organised a fun run in aid of Leukaemia Research. I woke up that morning and didn’t feel great, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what felt wrong so I brushed it off – if Rich could run 10km whilst waiting to see if his treatment had worked and he was in remission I could get my backside into London to support him.
We met everyone at the pub post run. I had the most expensive pint ever. Two bottles of Becks Blue poured into a glass so no one would know - oh the irony!
A couple of hours later we were finishing up; congratulating runners, saying our goodbyes to friends and planning to leave for along leisurely lunch to finish the afternoon.
As a matter of course I popped to the toilet before we left. I’ll never forget that moment as I glance down and looked at the toilet bowl that was a sea of red. I froze. What should I do?
I quickly pulled myself together told P (husband) we needed to go straight home and in a hushed whisper on the street outside I explained what I’d just seen.
We decided to head home and go straight to the hospital. Once on the tube I changed my mind. I needed answers now - not in 40 minutes.
We headed to the nearest hospital in East London. We were seen quickly. They did the standard urine and blood tests and discerned what I already knew – I was pregnant. More than that they couldn’t tell me.
The nurse asked to see my panty liner and declared (with a glimmer of patronisation) that with such a small amount of blood on it I was experiencing a standard level of bleeding that for some unexplained reason happens to a lot of women within pregnancy.
The doctor readily agreed that I was looking and evidently feeling far too well to be experiencing a miscarriage.
I was packed off home and told that unless I experienced signs of an ectopic I was to wait until Wednesday and return for a scan.I went home.
I continued to bleed. I returned on the Wednesday to the Early Pregnancy Unit(EPU) where after a 90 minute wait I was given an internal scan (with the wand that is now affectionately known as dildo cam in our house). The Sonographer, a lady of Polish origin, foraged about for a while and then said “Are you sure you were pregnant? There’s nothing there!” and that was how I learned that I had definitely lost my baby.
Miscarriage is much more common than people would think but it still remains a taboo subject. I am fairly open about most things in life so told people it had happened and many then opened up and shared their stories with me.
Then there is the other side of the spectrum the people spouting the hard facts and the 1 in 10 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Slightly tactless, you think?
The one thing everybody assured me was at least I knew I could get pregnant.
That it would happen again very soon. It didn’t.
After a year where nothing happened I asked for a referral to fertility clinic. We were both “textbook perfect” for everything with the exception of me having fibroids and these seemed to be of little concern.
There followed a year’s treatment of various medications. Some that stimulated eggs, others that released them and we were sent home to perform mechanical sex 18 hours later - still nothing.
The Consultant decided that IVF was our only option and we agreed, attended an introductory lecture and planned to begin at the end of the year. Three weeks later I discovered I was pregnant.
This pregnancy was much shorter lived than the first. In fact I could have blinked and missed it.
I discovered I was pregnant on the Friday evening and by 7am on Monday morning I was sitting in A+E wedged between a lady who appeared to be suffering a nervous breakdown and a surly looking boy cuffed to an accompanying policeman. I had no doubt this time I had miscarried. The clots of liverish sludge, the agonising stomach cramps that were forcing me to try and curl into a foetal position as I unashamedly sobbed.
This time the news was broken in a slightly different way. A very harassed Indian doctor with a plethora of ear stubble simply said to me, “you were pregnant but now you’re not”.
IVF had to be delayed as a result until the start of this year. I decided to throw everything I had at it. My Friday night tipple became peppermint tea. I had acupuncture, reflexology and took up yoga.
I meditated. I reacted quite sensitively to all drugs. It was hell on earth. I felt tired, sick emotional and as though my body didn’t belong to me – it didn’t. All seemed to go quite well. They harvested 11 eggs, 10 fertilised. Then 10 fell apart. They thought the drugs might have been too potent. They weren’t quite sure. At my follow up appointment I was told that it was only worth one more go. We agreed to pay an extra 1k for various drugs; anti rejection drips, Clexane to thin the blood, steroids (which would ensure a hefty weight gain on top of all the hormones). This all came with a health warning though – I was old (38 to be precise) and therefore I was probably not getting pregnant because my eggs were old. If round 2 didn’t work my next option was egg donation.
After a long chat we decided to give my body a break and delay round 2 until the beginning of August.
So here I am. I should be preparing for round 2 of IVF. Instead I am preparing for a 20 week scan!
My initial reaction was “How did that happen?", apart from the obvious answer!
Typically and almost annoyingly as everyone says it’s when you are not thinking about it that you fall *coughs Lauren* – I had become pregnant in a normal month where I had eaten whatever I fancied, drunk more than a little (I’d been on a long weekend to Ireland – enough said) and generally had fun.
I’m naturally delighted. I’m also petrified.
The first weeks after I found out were the worst. There was no excitement when I saw two blue lines – I didn’t dare feel excitement, but when I saw a heart beat on a grainy picture in our local hospital I felt a surge of love I’d never felt before. I felt it was important to acknowledge the struggle it has been to get to where I am today – and I am mindful it is a long journey ahead.
Future blog posts will therefore have to be about the here and now – all the bits that no one tells you and I promise they won’t be as long as this (within reason!)
I've never really felt the need to drink at home, at least not unless I'm hosting guests or better still, hosting a full blown party. But since having child number two the phrase 'wine o'clock' has developed a more tangible significance ;-)
I'm sure most of you already have a favorite tipple, but for my part I've always found it difficult to find a wine that I really enjoy for the taste. You know, rather than the alcohol content. In general I prefer drinking white wine but for some reason I feel like drinking at home requires red. And I've always found red a bit too heavy. My other problem is that when I do come across one I actually like I have a tendency to forget it's name so I can't find it again.
So in the name of 'thank f*%k the children are finally in bed' winding down, I've been testing a few out recently for the greater good and all that :-)
After a particularly hard week when I've frequently wondered at what madness overtook me when I decided to have kids, I stopped by an Esso garage on my way home tonight and lo and behold they had a pretty decent wine section (well I was in Surrey). As usual, floundering to make a decision when faced with so many options, I went for a brand I know - a Blossom Hill red. It was only £6 and to be honest I didn't have great expectations, but I've been pleasantly surprised.
The label says the wine is a blend, but doesn't specify which grapes are used, and it claims to be soft and fruity. And actually it is very tasty and smooth with no rough edges except a slight sourness on first taste. Perhaps more importantly, it's 12.5% proof has provided an instant smoothing of my own rough edges with just one (admittedly large) glass. So of course I've had two - just to be sure :-)
The sun is out - the holiday is booked - so what's the one thing missing?
A TRUNKI for the kids!
Thanks to our friends at Trunki, we have a fabulous giveaway consisting of ONE fabulously bright and beautiful 'Gerry the Giraffe', resplendent in yellow and funky brown giraffe print and worth £40! So you won't lose 'em at the airport!
All we want from you is to a) tweet us @babyubeautiful your one holiday essential to keep the kids amused/happy/occupied/well/satisfied - pram or nappies or basics don't count! Feel free to add in Trunki too - who will also retweet your entry.
My essential?
Play Doh for the plane - it keeps them occupied for hmm, al of 15 minutes?! But still, it's a great handbag essential to whip out if all else fails!
We need you to follow us on twitter and/or instagram - both gives you bonus points: babyubeautiful (u not ur)
So follow us asap and enter! BABYUBEAUTIFUL xx
a Rafflecopter giveaway
A TRUNKI for the kids!
Thanks to our friends at Trunki, we have a fabulous giveaway consisting of ONE fabulously bright and beautiful 'Gerry the Giraffe', resplendent in yellow and funky brown giraffe print and worth £40! So you won't lose 'em at the airport!
All we want from you is to a) tweet us @babyubeautiful your one holiday essential to keep the kids amused/happy/occupied/well/satisfied - pram or nappies or basics don't count! Feel free to add in Trunki too - who will also retweet your entry.
My essential?
Play Doh for the plane - it keeps them occupied for hmm, al of 15 minutes?! But still, it's a great handbag essential to whip out if all else fails!
We need you to follow us on twitter and/or instagram - both gives you bonus points: babyubeautiful (u not ur)
So follow us asap and enter! BABYUBEAUTIFUL xx
Having spent a lot of time with my friend who has recently been through a miscarriage (her second) followed by intense IVF, that subsequently failed, I really feel her pain.
Not indirectly from the above, but the way people treat her situation.
Do you remember the scene in SATC Movie 2 where Carrie and Mr Big are sat at Stanford & Anthony's ostentatious wedding and a couple at their table ask when they intend to have kids?
'It's just not for us," Carrie says.
'So it's just going to be the two of you?" the female says, her voice dripping with pity (I'm not quite sure this is the exact quote, but something along those lines and she was definitely patronising and disapproving).
But what if it wasn't 'for us', and that was just a facade.
It wasn't. But what if?
Imagine if Carrie was one of those mothers feeling a failure and judged for having to resort to IVF (obviously there is absolutely no reason to feel that way) and had retorted; 'Actually you nosy bitch, we've been trying for the last five years. I spend practically every day looking at babies, praying that one day I'll have one of my own, and now you've gone and spoilt this evening for me - mazel tov!'
*downs G & T*.
What I'm trying to get at is that we've all fought our own battles to get to motherhood and don't need others judgement on top of that.
Some have it easy to conceive, yes, but then they're the ones who probably spend the entire nine months honking up, or with cankles the size of Hilary Clinton (soz, Hils). Then becoming irascible old moos while inhaling prawn curries slopped over chips to ease the sickness - because that's normal to feel better, right?
It would be nice to think that was their penance for falling so easily - but every one of us has been tested along the way regardless of conceiving, pregnancy, bump or child and it's never cool to be jealous, right?
Prior to my son, I miscarried. I lost the plot, I became a recluse. I eventually met someone new - and he was born a year later. Obviously it was all too soon for us - because we're now separated. I didn't even know I had fallen with him, and when they say it's when you're most relaxed or not thinking about it - well there we go.
As my gin friend I formerly refer to forgoed her favourite past time in favour of fresh mint tea (I thought it was only fair I join her and quite frankly think we've both had a skinful of it now).
I watched her body put into an early menopause to produce the healthy, strong eggs she needed. Her already ample bust ballooned, night sweats ensued, tears, anger, frustration followed - and there was nothing I could say or do to make it better.
But through it all, she had so much time for everyone else, including me - and children, and kept a cool exterior throughout. I became fiercely protective.
Why do we fight our motherhood battles alone? Why don't we open up and stop all the awkwardness and bashfulness - it's a painful and uncomfortable subject whether someone wants or can't have a child, but the likelihood is, you call out to one of your sista's - she'll holla back.
It's something we can all resonate with - every single one of my new found friends had experienced miscarriage or IVF - even both. For those idiotic few who are so wrapped up in their own pregnancy - perhaps our honesty of what we're going through would put paid to the ignorance.
It's so easy to be caught up in a baby bubble with all the excitement. For you, it's just a picture on Facebook, for someone going through IVF it's a knife through the heart each time.
She's very open about her journey - and how it's on hold for a while. It's intense, people need to know why you may not be yourself at times.
Like I said before, there's nothing to be ashamed of - it just seems every else makes a big meal of it.
A few weeks ago we spent a day with her rosy-cheeked earth mother chum recreating a bus scene; by this I mean lining up seats in the middle of a cafe in front of everyone while she (the friend) jovially bellowed wheels on the bus. I begged gin bud not to see her again, or at least for a while - for my own sanity too.
I'm surprised she didn't cry, because I wanted to out of sheer embarrassment.
Then come the invites for birthday parties with the side note of: 'But I can imagine you don't really want to come to a children's party as you don't have any of your own.' For FUCK sake, least said, soonest mended, eh?
A social event is a social event - they're a really nice couple so would feel as comfortable dancing to a Take That tribute band with cheap chardonnay as they would to Peppa Pig, some party rings and some fizzy pop. Why just presume it's NOT their scene? It always has been and always will be - with or without child.
The two of us sat through a meeting the other day, a heavily pregnant woman chatting about herself and hypo-birthing yada yada, her perfectly coiffed chelsea blow-dry, tan, bump, cashmere clothing - then she looked us both up and down, found a middle ground with me as I have a two-year-old. But my friend? I am sure she guest-i-mated her age as mid-thirties, asked her if she had kids, then automatically filed her into the 'doesn't want them' and Carries-wedding-guest-friend reaction and carried on wittering to me. I was FURIOUS.
Again, an ignoramus presumptuous idiot - which resulted in me apologising on her behalf as we left the coffee shop (thank fuck she paid for our fresh mint tea).
Why is it SO hard to ask someone you know is going through IVF - are they ok? How is everything - what have they been up to? It's ok they won't make you feel uncomfortable and start wittering on about they've had more prods pokes and pricks than Helen Wood (Rooney's bit of strumpet/BB Bitch) in the last month. But likelihood is they'll appreciate you're thinking of them, if they don't want to talk about it - they certainly won't.
I remember a few years back when a colleague was going through IVF - there was salacious gossip stirring around the office like it was some dirty secret - and I felt terrible for her. She's the one laughing now - she has three beautiful boys.
So next time you ask someone childless how their dogs are, realise how insular you sound...
Not indirectly from the above, but the way people treat her situation.
Do you remember the scene in SATC Movie 2 where Carrie and Mr Big are sat at Stanford & Anthony's ostentatious wedding and a couple at their table ask when they intend to have kids?
'It's just not for us," Carrie says.
'So it's just going to be the two of you?" the female says, her voice dripping with pity (I'm not quite sure this is the exact quote, but something along those lines and she was definitely patronising and disapproving).
But what if it wasn't 'for us', and that was just a facade.
It wasn't. But what if?
Imagine if Carrie was one of those mothers feeling a failure and judged for having to resort to IVF (obviously there is absolutely no reason to feel that way) and had retorted; 'Actually you nosy bitch, we've been trying for the last five years. I spend practically every day looking at babies, praying that one day I'll have one of my own, and now you've gone and spoilt this evening for me - mazel tov!'
*downs G & T*.
What I'm trying to get at is that we've all fought our own battles to get to motherhood and don't need others judgement on top of that.
Some have it easy to conceive, yes, but then they're the ones who probably spend the entire nine months honking up, or with cankles the size of Hilary Clinton (soz, Hils). Then becoming irascible old moos while inhaling prawn curries slopped over chips to ease the sickness - because that's normal to feel better, right?
It would be nice to think that was their penance for falling so easily - but every one of us has been tested along the way regardless of conceiving, pregnancy, bump or child and it's never cool to be jealous, right?
Prior to my son, I miscarried. I lost the plot, I became a recluse. I eventually met someone new - and he was born a year later. Obviously it was all too soon for us - because we're now separated. I didn't even know I had fallen with him, and when they say it's when you're most relaxed or not thinking about it - well there we go.
As my gin friend I formerly refer to forgoed her favourite past time in favour of fresh mint tea (I thought it was only fair I join her and quite frankly think we've both had a skinful of it now).
I watched her body put into an early menopause to produce the healthy, strong eggs she needed. Her already ample bust ballooned, night sweats ensued, tears, anger, frustration followed - and there was nothing I could say or do to make it better.
But through it all, she had so much time for everyone else, including me - and children, and kept a cool exterior throughout. I became fiercely protective.
Why do we fight our motherhood battles alone? Why don't we open up and stop all the awkwardness and bashfulness - it's a painful and uncomfortable subject whether someone wants or can't have a child, but the likelihood is, you call out to one of your sista's - she'll holla back.
It's something we can all resonate with - every single one of my new found friends had experienced miscarriage or IVF - even both. For those idiotic few who are so wrapped up in their own pregnancy - perhaps our honesty of what we're going through would put paid to the ignorance.
It's so easy to be caught up in a baby bubble with all the excitement. For you, it's just a picture on Facebook, for someone going through IVF it's a knife through the heart each time.
She's very open about her journey - and how it's on hold for a while. It's intense, people need to know why you may not be yourself at times.
Like I said before, there's nothing to be ashamed of - it just seems every else makes a big meal of it.
A few weeks ago we spent a day with her rosy-cheeked earth mother chum recreating a bus scene; by this I mean lining up seats in the middle of a cafe in front of everyone while she (the friend) jovially bellowed wheels on the bus. I begged gin bud not to see her again, or at least for a while - for my own sanity too.
I'm surprised she didn't cry, because I wanted to out of sheer embarrassment.
Then come the invites for birthday parties with the side note of: 'But I can imagine you don't really want to come to a children's party as you don't have any of your own.' For FUCK sake, least said, soonest mended, eh?
A social event is a social event - they're a really nice couple so would feel as comfortable dancing to a Take That tribute band with cheap chardonnay as they would to Peppa Pig, some party rings and some fizzy pop. Why just presume it's NOT their scene? It always has been and always will be - with or without child.
The two of us sat through a meeting the other day, a heavily pregnant woman chatting about herself and hypo-birthing yada yada, her perfectly coiffed chelsea blow-dry, tan, bump, cashmere clothing - then she looked us both up and down, found a middle ground with me as I have a two-year-old. But my friend? I am sure she guest-i-mated her age as mid-thirties, asked her if she had kids, then automatically filed her into the 'doesn't want them' and Carries-wedding-guest-friend reaction and carried on wittering to me. I was FURIOUS.
Again, an ignoramus presumptuous idiot - which resulted in me apologising on her behalf as we left the coffee shop (thank fuck she paid for our fresh mint tea).
Why is it SO hard to ask someone you know is going through IVF - are they ok? How is everything - what have they been up to? It's ok they won't make you feel uncomfortable and start wittering on about they've had more prods pokes and pricks than Helen Wood (Rooney's bit of strumpet/BB Bitch) in the last month. But likelihood is they'll appreciate you're thinking of them, if they don't want to talk about it - they certainly won't.
I remember a few years back when a colleague was going through IVF - there was salacious gossip stirring around the office like it was some dirty secret - and I felt terrible for her. She's the one laughing now - she has three beautiful boys.
So next time you ask someone childless how their dogs are, realise how insular you sound...
No rabbits, hymns or mouthwatering Easter chocolates for me.
The only jesus I was involved with was the one I cried out each time I checked the thermometer - and that was every, ooo, two seconds?
This is a random post, but hopefully helpful - because I panicked when I realised my little one had the highest temperature I'd ever seen - 41.6 at its worse.
I'm not a shit, thoughtless mother leaving him to suffer - I called the NHS helpline 111 constantly - but as everyone and their dog seem to have some sickness bug/virus - unless your finger is hanging off - and even then you'd still have to wait - you've got less chance of getting an appointment than Peter Rabbit shitting chocolate eggs.
I took him to the doctor who brushed it off as a sickness bug/virus and that was that.
He only said 'no' for the last five days, and didn't walk about at all. It was horrible.
It started with sickness - it's ended up with average temperatures between 39-40 and me staying in for five days. Yay.
So here's some top tips if god forbid, the lurgy comes to get you.
DRINKING
They won't be eating, they'll be off milk and really fussy.
Apple juice. What a saviour. Just like you would have Lucozade to build your strength up, give your little one a sugary, sweet number to make them feel slightly human again and give them some energy.
The doctor actually advised this by the time I got around to visiting him, when it was mothers instinct anyway. Boom.
SYRINGE
On a drinking vibe - if they're not drinking and refusing water, milk, even apple - yet they'll take medicine (Calpol, Ibuprofen etc) why not trick them, and syringe some fluid into them.
So that my son didn't get dehydrated, I made a mix of water and dioralyte (rehydration drink) and managed to get 3/4 5ml syringes down him, followed a little while later by apple juice. I felt happier knowing he had accepted some fluid.
On any empty stomach medicines are rendered useless because, well, if you have an empty stomach they'll just come back up. Or there's the likelihood your stomach will over produce acid, which ends up being painful on its way along.
When I'm ill I refuse the aforementioned, along with fluid - so I'm not surprised my son is as stubborn as me and just wants nothing.
Syringe the fluid in - it's the way forward and will give you peace of mind.
ICEPOLES
Wow. This literally saved us. Albie was refusing all food including crisps and chocolate - which any right minded kid would normally snaffle if wafted in their face.
To cool him down my initial thought was a juicy orange or lemonade lolly, my good friend Astra suggested ice poles and I recoiled in horror (E numbers). I was wrong.
It was the ONLY thing he took.
If your child has a respiratory virus they'll feel snotty, rotten with a sore throat - so think something soothing. Melon also did the trick. You could freeze some if you prefer to go down the healthier option - but doctors orders - sugar is needed.
After no movement at all, he suddenly sat up and slowly ate one, then another a few hours later.
The sugar hit, although I wouldn't normally do, gave him some energy.
He cooled himself down with TWO, yes two - who am I to argue? He was then bouncing off the walls but woke up the next day with a ridiculously high temp.
As he was so exhausted he slept through the night anyway, but as the flu/cold part of the virus came out towards the end - I spent two days up and down with him all night.
HAND SANITISER
I'm totally grossed out he's been snotting and sleeping in my bed, I've stripped it all back and I feel a bit more relieved. I've aired every single room - and sprayed dettol spray on everything (including my pillows!) Hand sanitiser is a must for everyone after every sneeze, splutter and sickness - just keep washing, washing and more washing. No brainer really.
READING
My little one did NOT move for 5 days, just laid on the bed, the sofa, in someone's arms. It was heartbreaking to see. They need to sleep to power up - so constant wittering whether you, the tv, or someone singing will help calm them, entertain them and send them off to sleep. It really fills you with confidence of how interesting you are but hey ho - it's not about you it's about keeping them happy.
COOL SHOWERS
Cold compresses aren't a great idea - they can make the temperature drop too quickly so your child will struggle to regulate. It's best to keep them in cool clothes, but warm under a blanket or bedding.
At the end of the day, or start of the day give them a nice tepid shower. Whenever I feel shit - I love a bath or shower to blast it out. Same as your little one. Mine spent a good 15-20 minutes turning himself around/sitting down and enjoying the calming sound, refreshing feel of the water - it cooled him down.
CUDDLES
No brainer - it's all they want.
Over & out.
LN
The only jesus I was involved with was the one I cried out each time I checked the thermometer - and that was every, ooo, two seconds?
This is a random post, but hopefully helpful - because I panicked when I realised my little one had the highest temperature I'd ever seen - 41.6 at its worse.
I'm not a shit, thoughtless mother leaving him to suffer - I called the NHS helpline 111 constantly - but as everyone and their dog seem to have some sickness bug/virus - unless your finger is hanging off - and even then you'd still have to wait - you've got less chance of getting an appointment than Peter Rabbit shitting chocolate eggs.
I took him to the doctor who brushed it off as a sickness bug/virus and that was that.
He only said 'no' for the last five days, and didn't walk about at all. It was horrible.
It started with sickness - it's ended up with average temperatures between 39-40 and me staying in for five days. Yay.
So here's some top tips if god forbid, the lurgy comes to get you.
DRINKING
They won't be eating, they'll be off milk and really fussy.
Apple juice. What a saviour. Just like you would have Lucozade to build your strength up, give your little one a sugary, sweet number to make them feel slightly human again and give them some energy.
The doctor actually advised this by the time I got around to visiting him, when it was mothers instinct anyway. Boom.
SYRINGE
On a drinking vibe - if they're not drinking and refusing water, milk, even apple - yet they'll take medicine (Calpol, Ibuprofen etc) why not trick them, and syringe some fluid into them.
So that my son didn't get dehydrated, I made a mix of water and dioralyte (rehydration drink) and managed to get 3/4 5ml syringes down him, followed a little while later by apple juice. I felt happier knowing he had accepted some fluid.
On any empty stomach medicines are rendered useless because, well, if you have an empty stomach they'll just come back up. Or there's the likelihood your stomach will over produce acid, which ends up being painful on its way along.
When I'm ill I refuse the aforementioned, along with fluid - so I'm not surprised my son is as stubborn as me and just wants nothing.
Syringe the fluid in - it's the way forward and will give you peace of mind.
ICEPOLES
Wow. This literally saved us. Albie was refusing all food including crisps and chocolate - which any right minded kid would normally snaffle if wafted in their face.
To cool him down my initial thought was a juicy orange or lemonade lolly, my good friend Astra suggested ice poles and I recoiled in horror (E numbers). I was wrong.
It was the ONLY thing he took.
If your child has a respiratory virus they'll feel snotty, rotten with a sore throat - so think something soothing. Melon also did the trick. You could freeze some if you prefer to go down the healthier option - but doctors orders - sugar is needed.
After no movement at all, he suddenly sat up and slowly ate one, then another a few hours later.
The sugar hit, although I wouldn't normally do, gave him some energy.
He cooled himself down with TWO, yes two - who am I to argue? He was then bouncing off the walls but woke up the next day with a ridiculously high temp.
As he was so exhausted he slept through the night anyway, but as the flu/cold part of the virus came out towards the end - I spent two days up and down with him all night.
HAND SANITISER
I'm totally grossed out he's been snotting and sleeping in my bed, I've stripped it all back and I feel a bit more relieved. I've aired every single room - and sprayed dettol spray on everything (including my pillows!) Hand sanitiser is a must for everyone after every sneeze, splutter and sickness - just keep washing, washing and more washing. No brainer really.
READING
My little one did NOT move for 5 days, just laid on the bed, the sofa, in someone's arms. It was heartbreaking to see. They need to sleep to power up - so constant wittering whether you, the tv, or someone singing will help calm them, entertain them and send them off to sleep. It really fills you with confidence of how interesting you are but hey ho - it's not about you it's about keeping them happy.
COOL SHOWERS
Cold compresses aren't a great idea - they can make the temperature drop too quickly so your child will struggle to regulate. It's best to keep them in cool clothes, but warm under a blanket or bedding.
At the end of the day, or start of the day give them a nice tepid shower. Whenever I feel shit - I love a bath or shower to blast it out. Same as your little one. Mine spent a good 15-20 minutes turning himself around/sitting down and enjoying the calming sound, refreshing feel of the water - it cooled him down.
CUDDLES
No brainer - it's all they want.
Over & out.
LN
Officially opening on the 2nd April 2016, if your little ones are fans of Peter Rabbit - you must pay a visit to Willows Farm, St Albans, Hertfordshire.
The project has been developed with Silvergate Media, owners of the animated Peter Rabbit with Lappset Creative, experts in play equipment.
It's opening in the 150th year since the birth of Beatrix Potter.
The Peter Rabbit Playground is the first of its kind in the world and includes lots of activities based on the famous characters and has had over £1 million invested into its launch.
Willows welcomes the stars of the CBeebies series including Lily Bobtail and Peter Rabbit himself, who are meeting and greeting visitors daily.
In the Willows countryside setting there are outdoor climbing frames as well as slides and rope walkways at the Secret Treehouse and the Benjamin Bunny Treetop Adventure.
Other features like the Jeremy Fisher Music Pond, where children can bounce about on lily pads to hear musical sounds and the Mr Bouncer Great Invention, a sensory gaming activity to learn about numbers and colours in a fun and educational way.
Willows offer an all-inclusive admission price, with all activities, shows, demonstrations, rides and seasonal programmes included in the entrance price. For more information visit: www.willowsactivityfarm.com
The project has been developed with Silvergate Media, owners of the animated Peter Rabbit with Lappset Creative, experts in play equipment.
It's opening in the 150th year since the birth of Beatrix Potter.
The Peter Rabbit Playground is the first of its kind in the world and includes lots of activities based on the famous characters and has had over £1 million invested into its launch.
Willows welcomes the stars of the CBeebies series including Lily Bobtail and Peter Rabbit himself, who are meeting and greeting visitors daily.
In the Willows countryside setting there are outdoor climbing frames as well as slides and rope walkways at the Secret Treehouse and the Benjamin Bunny Treetop Adventure.
Other features like the Jeremy Fisher Music Pond, where children can bounce about on lily pads to hear musical sounds and the Mr Bouncer Great Invention, a sensory gaming activity to learn about numbers and colours in a fun and educational way.
Willows offer an all-inclusive admission price, with all activities, shows, demonstrations, rides and seasonal programmes included in the entrance price. For more information visit: www.willowsactivityfarm.com
Max Factor Facefinity Compact Foundation
I bought Max Factor Facefinity Compact foundation on a whim as it was being promoted near the till in Superdrug for £9.99 (I think RRP is £10.99). I am quite into powder foundations at the moment as they are quick to apply and I don’t have a lot – or really any – time to put my face on before leaving the house these days. And this one is a compact with a sponge and mirror so no need for additional brushes.
I really like this product and want to just say that out of the gate. It goes on smoothly, gives great coverage that you can build up where it’s needed, and the finished outcome is a glowing even complexion. Above all it takes seconds to apply so I am keeping it by the hallway mirror for quick application before leaving the house.
But the problem I’ve got is that the shades available are quite dark and so I’ve bought two so far that aren’t suitable, at least for my winter skin tone.
I’ve seen about 6 shades of this. Porcelain, Ivory, Natural, Sand, Golden and Toffee. The first one I bought was Natural. There were no Ivory or Porcelain ones left so I just grabbed this one thinking it would be in the right ball park at least. But it turned out to be quite dark. The sort of thing I would use after a two week sunshine holiday to make my face match my body (I am never able to get a good tan on my face, just a bunch of annoying freckles).
But I liked the product so I thought I would save that one for holidays and buy a lighter shade for normal use. I don’t have porcelain skin by any stretch of the imagination, so I bought Ivory. But once I tried this one at home, it is also too dark. In fact it isn’t much different to the Natural one and definitely not what I would describe as Ivory.
So I’m a bit annoyed, mostly with myself! But is everyone so permatanned these days that foundation shades are overall getting darker? I want to get the Ivory one but I’m reluctant to invest more money in another shade if it's not going to be right. But I do really like this product. Maybe I’ll have to invest in some fake tan instead!
RL x
Judge the results for yourself from my video
I bought Max Factor Facefinity Compact foundation on a whim as it was being promoted near the till in Superdrug for £9.99 (I think RRP is £10.99). I am quite into powder foundations at the moment as they are quick to apply and I don’t have a lot – or really any – time to put my face on before leaving the house these days. And this one is a compact with a sponge and mirror so no need for additional brushes.
I really like this product and want to just say that out of the gate. It goes on smoothly, gives great coverage that you can build up where it’s needed, and the finished outcome is a glowing even complexion. Above all it takes seconds to apply so I am keeping it by the hallway mirror for quick application before leaving the house.
But the problem I’ve got is that the shades available are quite dark and so I’ve bought two so far that aren’t suitable, at least for my winter skin tone.
I’ve seen about 6 shades of this. Porcelain, Ivory, Natural, Sand, Golden and Toffee. The first one I bought was Natural. There were no Ivory or Porcelain ones left so I just grabbed this one thinking it would be in the right ball park at least. But it turned out to be quite dark. The sort of thing I would use after a two week sunshine holiday to make my face match my body (I am never able to get a good tan on my face, just a bunch of annoying freckles).
But I liked the product so I thought I would save that one for holidays and buy a lighter shade for normal use. I don’t have porcelain skin by any stretch of the imagination, so I bought Ivory. But once I tried this one at home, it is also too dark. In fact it isn’t much different to the Natural one and definitely not what I would describe as Ivory.
So I’m a bit annoyed, mostly with myself! But is everyone so permatanned these days that foundation shades are overall getting darker? I want to get the Ivory one but I’m reluctant to invest more money in another shade if it's not going to be right. But I do really like this product. Maybe I’ll have to invest in some fake tan instead!
RL x
Judge the results for yourself from my video
Clarins Double Serum Age Control Concentrate
Clarins Super Restorative Total Eye Concentrate
I was recently lucky enough to go on a work trip to New York where I had a day and a half of blissful free time before coming home. Imagine. No children, no husband, just doing what I wanted when I wanted after having three full night’s sleeps in a row!
However the weather was absolutely freezing and my face went all red and puffy and so I was unfortunately easy prey when I walked into Bloomingdales and was accosted by the very lovely ladies at the Clarins counter.
Normally I don’t allow myself to get sucked into these things, being naturally suspicious as well as hating to feel obligated into making a purchase. But, given I was kind of high on freedom at the time, I just thought what the hell and sat down. What followed was the saleswoman rubbing and dabbing a bunch of different lotions and gels on my face, ruining my makeup, which I then asked them to touch up and consequently I was a bit scared to look in the mirror afterwards – these people aren’t exactly professional make-up artists! And then she laid out the products she’d used and asked if I wanted to buy any. And I felt the pressure, having sat and been dabbed at for 10 minutes, so I thought what the hell, I could use some good eye gel and face serum. After all, parenting young children is aging me faster than I thought possible.
So I picked out two products to buy and she walked me to the till and ... “that will be $250 please”. And my immediate thoughts while choking on my bile were ... Er, what’s that now? Did she just say $250?? For two fricking products? Shit that’s expensive. It’s not that expensive in the UK. Or is it? Is it too late to change my mind now she’s rung them up? Can I just make a run for it?
But the British in me took over and I was too proud to admit I couldn’t afford them, so like a chump I handed over my credit card, paid and legged it with my ‘free gift’ as a consolation prize. Because a teeny tiny travel cleansing set really makes it worth the money :-)
But you know, even if I only get to use the products once and can’t afford to buy them again, at least my skin might get to look a bit less tired in the meantime.
I bought:
Double Serum Age Control Concentrate (lowest price I found on a UK website is £37 for 30ml or £64 for 50ml on beautyspin.co.uk )
Super Restorative Total Eye Concentrate (£39 for 15ml on beautyspin.co.uk)
Are they worth the money?
Well it’s hard to say. The Double Serum has a lovely feel on the skin and creates a nice glow. But I’m not sure if it’s meant to improve the current state of my skin or to stop it getting worse. The Eye Concentrate is very moisturising and a bit of relief for my poor sleep deprived eyes. I’m not sure there was a noticeable improvement after a few applications though.
But I don’t like to judge these things on the first go. I will use them until they run out and see what happens. Then I’ll report back with a full review and decide if I want to fork out for more!
RL x
Clarins Super Restorative Total Eye Concentrate
I was recently lucky enough to go on a work trip to New York where I had a day and a half of blissful free time before coming home. Imagine. No children, no husband, just doing what I wanted when I wanted after having three full night’s sleeps in a row!
However the weather was absolutely freezing and my face went all red and puffy and so I was unfortunately easy prey when I walked into Bloomingdales and was accosted by the very lovely ladies at the Clarins counter.
Normally I don’t allow myself to get sucked into these things, being naturally suspicious as well as hating to feel obligated into making a purchase. But, given I was kind of high on freedom at the time, I just thought what the hell and sat down. What followed was the saleswoman rubbing and dabbing a bunch of different lotions and gels on my face, ruining my makeup, which I then asked them to touch up and consequently I was a bit scared to look in the mirror afterwards – these people aren’t exactly professional make-up artists! And then she laid out the products she’d used and asked if I wanted to buy any. And I felt the pressure, having sat and been dabbed at for 10 minutes, so I thought what the hell, I could use some good eye gel and face serum. After all, parenting young children is aging me faster than I thought possible.
So I picked out two products to buy and she walked me to the till and ... “that will be $250 please”. And my immediate thoughts while choking on my bile were ... Er, what’s that now? Did she just say $250?? For two fricking products? Shit that’s expensive. It’s not that expensive in the UK. Or is it? Is it too late to change my mind now she’s rung them up? Can I just make a run for it?
But the British in me took over and I was too proud to admit I couldn’t afford them, so like a chump I handed over my credit card, paid and legged it with my ‘free gift’ as a consolation prize. Because a teeny tiny travel cleansing set really makes it worth the money :-)
But you know, even if I only get to use the products once and can’t afford to buy them again, at least my skin might get to look a bit less tired in the meantime.
I bought:
Double Serum Age Control Concentrate (lowest price I found on a UK website is £37 for 30ml or £64 for 50ml on beautyspin.co.uk )
Super Restorative Total Eye Concentrate (£39 for 15ml on beautyspin.co.uk)
Are they worth the money?
Well it’s hard to say. The Double Serum has a lovely feel on the skin and creates a nice glow. But I’m not sure if it’s meant to improve the current state of my skin or to stop it getting worse. The Eye Concentrate is very moisturising and a bit of relief for my poor sleep deprived eyes. I’m not sure there was a noticeable improvement after a few applications though.
But I don’t like to judge these things on the first go. I will use them until they run out and see what happens. Then I’ll report back with a full review and decide if I want to fork out for more!
RL x
Hands up who hasn't tried micellar water yet?
Are you a mum?
Do you use face wipes?
Are you falling asleep with your make-up on?
Is your skin often dry?
Can you be arsed to cleanse and tone?
Do you know how drying and bad some face wipes are for the skin?
If you answered yes to more than two of those - listen up!
Micellar water should be a staple in any mums beauty routine, simply because it's the laziest and easiest way to cleanse and leaves skin supple and squeaky clean.
The teeny micelle molecules in the water use a clever technology to attract the dirt (a bit like a magnet) which then lifts away make-up and grime - and there's no need to rinse.
Simply soak your cotton wool in a reasonable amount, and with one deft swoop you've removed the grime of the day and can collapse in bed.
BUT here's the exciting bit....
The Sanctuary (of Spa fame) are SO confident about their new micellar product, they're offering customers the chance to bring in an old pack of wipes to swap for a sample of their Cleanse Foaming Micellar Water - FOR FREE!
This is only on the weekend of 19-20th MARCH in BOOTS stores nationwide.
So get down there armed with your wipes and a smile.
Are you a mum?
Do you use face wipes?
Are you falling asleep with your make-up on?
Is your skin often dry?
Can you be arsed to cleanse and tone?
Do you know how drying and bad some face wipes are for the skin?
If you answered yes to more than two of those - listen up!
Micellar water should be a staple in any mums beauty routine, simply because it's the laziest and easiest way to cleanse and leaves skin supple and squeaky clean.
The teeny micelle molecules in the water use a clever technology to attract the dirt (a bit like a magnet) which then lifts away make-up and grime - and there's no need to rinse.
Simply soak your cotton wool in a reasonable amount, and with one deft swoop you've removed the grime of the day and can collapse in bed.
BUT here's the exciting bit....
The Sanctuary (of Spa fame) are SO confident about their new micellar product, they're offering customers the chance to bring in an old pack of wipes to swap for a sample of their Cleanse Foaming Micellar Water - FOR FREE!
This is only on the weekend of 19-20th MARCH in BOOTS stores nationwide.
So get down there armed with your wipes and a smile.
Everyone loves a spot of multi-tasking, if it's not pinching the fellas razor (although I don't currently have one to pinch off of) then why not start stealing the baby's stuff too?
I'm suffering with a head cold and snotty nose. I can't stand that horrible thick nasal speech - and if someone sounds ever so slightly 'flu-ey' I recoil in horror and shuffle away.
If it happens to be on the train - I scuttle to the next carriage. That dramatic.
Right now, I've got a giant red hooter and a tissue hanging out of my nose to stem the persistent runny snot, and Albie keeps exclaiming: 'silly mummy!'
My absolutely go-to baby cold product is Calpol Vapour plug and Nightlight - it's bloody marvellous.
It can be used from 3 months plus and helps clear the nasal passages and make breathing easier for baby. It was initially recommended by a dear mummy friend, Stacey - 'Haaaaiiii Stacey!'
I've not looked back since.
It has a scent reminiscent of a spa, with lavender and camomile pulsing through the plug-in. Which is why, instead of my usual Beechams powders, I'm stealing Albie's product. Although I did purposely go out and buy this for ME today.
It comes with 5 refill pads, and says it works for up to 8 hours with each pad. I'd say you get 2 days fragrance/vapour out of each one - with it waning slightly after the first 24 hours.
My entire house becomes enveloped with lavender, and I feel it really helps with congestion.
I have so many of the plugs kicking about the house, so if, god forbid, you're an entire house of flu-bags - then just pop one of the plug/nightlight refills in each room - and you can all breathe easily!
Either way it's a great alternative to caffeine/all sorts of heart-race inducing (for me, anyway) cold and flu remedies.
A couple of paracetamol at my worse points, and a night with my Vapour Plug, I'll go with the alternative option, thank you!
Oh, plus some Vicks rub on the soles of my feet. Boom!
LN
I'm suffering with a head cold and snotty nose. I can't stand that horrible thick nasal speech - and if someone sounds ever so slightly 'flu-ey' I recoil in horror and shuffle away.
If it happens to be on the train - I scuttle to the next carriage. That dramatic.
Right now, I've got a giant red hooter and a tissue hanging out of my nose to stem the persistent runny snot, and Albie keeps exclaiming: 'silly mummy!'
My absolutely go-to baby cold product is Calpol Vapour plug and Nightlight - it's bloody marvellous.
It can be used from 3 months plus and helps clear the nasal passages and make breathing easier for baby. It was initially recommended by a dear mummy friend, Stacey - 'Haaaaiiii Stacey!'
I've not looked back since.
It has a scent reminiscent of a spa, with lavender and camomile pulsing through the plug-in. Which is why, instead of my usual Beechams powders, I'm stealing Albie's product. Although I did purposely go out and buy this for ME today.
It comes with 5 refill pads, and says it works for up to 8 hours with each pad. I'd say you get 2 days fragrance/vapour out of each one - with it waning slightly after the first 24 hours.
My entire house becomes enveloped with lavender, and I feel it really helps with congestion.
I have so many of the plugs kicking about the house, so if, god forbid, you're an entire house of flu-bags - then just pop one of the plug/nightlight refills in each room - and you can all breathe easily!
Either way it's a great alternative to caffeine/all sorts of heart-race inducing (for me, anyway) cold and flu remedies.
A couple of paracetamol at my worse points, and a night with my Vapour Plug, I'll go with the alternative option, thank you!
Oh, plus some Vicks rub on the soles of my feet. Boom!
LN
It's like it's the elephant in the room, the dead mouse in his Ikea kitchen (more about that another time) or the floating shit in the bath.
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I'm single, I have been for a year and a half, and although I haven't wanted to dine out on it in a 'woe me' kinda way, some of us - despite being married or with baby daddy, still feel very, very alone. Yet I AM alone.
I always joked 'Oh imagine if I ended up a single mum!' Now look at me, a deliriously happy one minute, miserable as sin the next.
I was always the girl in relationship after relationship. In hindsight, I probably never gave myself time to heal.
After my son was born - a lot more than my heart needed healing - and I think that was the problem.
I have never ever got over the shock of birth - the pain, pah, that was nothing! I'd rather do that ten times over, than have a wax. I'm sorry, but the pain of a wax is ridiculous, if gas was available I may reconsider my answer. But just the unexpected, the episiotomy, the unknown - everything.
It was a lot more about what happened to my body physically, pathetic I know. That's the least of your worries as a mum after hoofing a child out, and yes, the bastard that I am was back in size 10 jeans (albeit jelly belly on top), but it's more now - I can't bear the thought of someone seeing me not being as taut and perky as I was. The ever prevalent spare tyre due to the love of donuts, biscuits, chocolate (mum staples) is still hanging about (for want of a better word) two years down the line - although I've got really good at shoe-horning it into my skinny jeans.
After birth my hormones went haywire, lack of sleep turned me into permanent grot-bags. Then to top it off I became insecure about my body, despite escaping mainly with bashed up bits.
The breasts I had that were initially small, were even more gnat bite-ish after childbirth/breastfeeding. My super perky booty was more troubled than taut (and I felt like I was shitting glass for at least a month) and well, I sort of fell out of love with myself too.
No one has since seen any of the above. Yes, really.
But worst of all - I've got no one to bloody cry/moan to or quite simply take my rage out on.
I remember back to the exhilaration of leaving hospital 3 days after birth and feeling more alive and pumped than ever, yet the incessant feeling that soon crept up on me that I was too tired to function after a 16 hour birth, two days mini contractions and spending the early hours in the bath scooping water over my bump, listening to whale sounds and wallowing like a hippo - I don't think you ever catch up, and the difference is I have no one to 'spot me'.
It was a lot more about what happened to my body physically, pathetic I know. That's the least of your worries as a mum after hoofing a child out, and yes, the bastard that I am was back in size 10 jeans (albeit jelly belly on top), but it's more now - I can't bear the thought of someone seeing me not being as taut and perky as I was. The ever prevalent spare tyre due to the love of donuts, biscuits, chocolate (mum staples) is still hanging about (for want of a better word) two years down the line - although I've got really good at shoe-horning it into my skinny jeans.
After birth my hormones went haywire, lack of sleep turned me into permanent grot-bags. Then to top it off I became insecure about my body, despite escaping mainly with bashed up bits.
The breasts I had that were initially small, were even more gnat bite-ish after childbirth/breastfeeding. My super perky booty was more troubled than taut (and I felt like I was shitting glass for at least a month) and well, I sort of fell out of love with myself too.
No one has since seen any of the above. Yes, really.
But worst of all - I've got no one to bloody cry/moan to or quite simply take my rage out on.
I remember back to the exhilaration of leaving hospital 3 days after birth and feeling more alive and pumped than ever, yet the incessant feeling that soon crept up on me that I was too tired to function after a 16 hour birth, two days mini contractions and spending the early hours in the bath scooping water over my bump, listening to whale sounds and wallowing like a hippo - I don't think you ever catch up, and the difference is I have no one to 'spot me'.
But on a positive, the pleasant surprise is I've developed this inherent and innate knack of being a mum, despite knowing f-all or never having much experience around children. (Although they always seemed to like me). I still think every day it's only me the poor little sod has got to answer to.
I hate the term MILF, (even if it is from the fit 25-year old rugby-esque lad down the pub trying to get me home with him, and no, I wouldn't) - but I think I hate the 'single mum' tag that little bit more. It always makes me feel a bit pathetic.
I should look at the positives though: I have a great network around me - and I'm doing it..On.My.Own.
I am winning at life, and I've managed 2 1/2 years while juggling a job. Yay me!
I've tried to make something more of my evenings and be productive; like blog, catch up on general mum life, tv, things to keep me sane, rather than trawling through Facebook
and feeling worse at snippets of everyone's impeccably filtered life.
Social media as a whole, is pumped full of birth announcements, engagements, perfect family life, mummy and daddy days out, prestige white baby gros (funny, all of his white ones are now a fetching korma hue).
While my personal favourite and most liked pic is the one of my son treading in his own squishy shit.
The Mum Mafia, like: Dress Like a Mum, Mother of All Lists, Mother Pukka, Steph Don't Buy Her Flowers, My Milo and Me on Instagram are fantastic are keeping my pecker up, and aren't always posting things with rose tinted glasses. Yes, they've become insta-sensations, but by no means are thrusting it in other mother's faces - more like inspiring us. They share all the highs and lows of parenthood and offer their motherly support in modest imagery that tickles me A LOT and makes me feel part of a cool gang where we're all laughing through our parenting highs and lows.
I gave myself a terrible eye infection a while back, as somehow I managed to get my son's crap in my eye after one of those rushed nappy change I-am-going-to-cry-through-the-whole-ordeal-because-I-want-hot-milk-two-minutes-ago demand moments. I refer to the chapter as 'poop-eye'.
It wasn't pretty.
Being the only single one in a group of happy couples can be tough, however lovely everyone is. Even attractions and days out could be a very different experience with a plus one, which would always help to take the edge off the bitch fits (him, not me).
Just having someone to get up at night, or give a different perspective/play-time - to give me a break when I'm ill (thanks my mummy for being that plus one at times).
But I've made that choice - that's how we're doing it in this household.
Whether in or out of a relationship being a mum is very lonely at times, I get that.
I live with a 2-year-old dictator: 'Fix it.' and 'Don't like it' is always great for morale. But when he sees his evening milk and knows that cues bedtime and cheerily charges up the stairs and is settling down within 10 minutes. I know I'm shit hot. I did that!
I persevered at the bedtime routine and I won (ok, there was two weeks of teething where he ended up in my bed, foot in my ear all night etc but we'll skim over that part).
Follow me on Instagram & Twitter for more ramblings: babyubeautiful
I should look at the positives though: I have a great network around me - and I'm doing it..On.My.Own.
I am winning at life, and I've managed 2 1/2 years while juggling a job. Yay me!
I've tried to make something more of my evenings and be productive; like blog, catch up on general mum life, tv, things to keep me sane, rather than trawling through Facebook
and feeling worse at snippets of everyone's impeccably filtered life.
Social media as a whole, is pumped full of birth announcements, engagements, perfect family life, mummy and daddy days out, prestige white baby gros (funny, all of his white ones are now a fetching korma hue).
While my personal favourite and most liked pic is the one of my son treading in his own squishy shit.
The Mum Mafia, like: Dress Like a Mum, Mother of All Lists, Mother Pukka, Steph Don't Buy Her Flowers, My Milo and Me on Instagram are fantastic are keeping my pecker up, and aren't always posting things with rose tinted glasses. Yes, they've become insta-sensations, but by no means are thrusting it in other mother's faces - more like inspiring us. They share all the highs and lows of parenthood and offer their motherly support in modest imagery that tickles me A LOT and makes me feel part of a cool gang where we're all laughing through our parenting highs and lows.
I gave myself a terrible eye infection a while back, as somehow I managed to get my son's crap in my eye after one of those rushed nappy change I-am-going-to-cry-through-the-whole-ordeal-because-I-want-hot-milk-two-minutes-ago demand moments. I refer to the chapter as 'poop-eye'.
It wasn't pretty.
Being the only single one in a group of happy couples can be tough, however lovely everyone is. Even attractions and days out could be a very different experience with a plus one, which would always help to take the edge off the bitch fits (him, not me).
Just having someone to get up at night, or give a different perspective/play-time - to give me a break when I'm ill (thanks my mummy for being that plus one at times).
But I've made that choice - that's how we're doing it in this household.
Whether in or out of a relationship being a mum is very lonely at times, I get that.
I live with a 2-year-old dictator: 'Fix it.' and 'Don't like it' is always great for morale. But when he sees his evening milk and knows that cues bedtime and cheerily charges up the stairs and is settling down within 10 minutes. I know I'm shit hot. I did that!
I persevered at the bedtime routine and I won (ok, there was two weeks of teething where he ended up in my bed, foot in my ear all night etc but we'll skim over that part).
Follow me on Instagram & Twitter for more ramblings: babyubeautiful
OK, so first I apologise for not having blogged for a little while...but I have a good excuse.
Poppy Hope Jones arrived last Monday 22nd February...6 weeks early, but perfect nonetheless. She's currently in special care in our local hospital but is doing well and so hopefully it won't be too long before we get our little bundle home.
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| Introducing Poppy |
When I was pregnant I avoided underwired bras as they're not really recommended and so started wearing non-wired and ordered some maternity/nursing bras from eBay. Moral of the story, don't buy cheap bras from China- although they looked pretty, the support they offered was crap and they lost their shape within a few hours. Thankfully the seller was really good and refunded me...but that left me seriously short of bras, and with my days spent juggling being with the littlest one at the hospital, and then home for the bigger one, I really didn't have time to go into town to search for uninspiring bras.
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| Lovely Amoralia goodies |
Thank goodness Amoralia came to my rescue and very kindly sent me a selection of bras. I had to guess at my size as my milk hadn't really come in at this point but having arrived they fit like a glove (a glove for my boobs!).
My favourite is the One & Only Nursing Bra £29.00. It is seriously comfy so is ideal for sleeping in, but offers the right amount of support, ensuring those bad boys stay in place as do the breast pads... nobody likes waking up to sheets that smell of stale breastmilk. It's made of really soft and stretchy fabric so I can put it on without even undoing it if I feel super lazy.
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| One & Only Nursing Bra in pewter £29.00 |
It's fair to say that we feel totally unsexy after having a baby... we're leaking from all ends, have a jelly belly, some dodgy line that looks like a drunk person's been let loose with an eyeliner on our bellies (that could be just me) and generally we're a hormonal mess.
It's a wonder what some pretty nursing lingerie can do and after having a nice soak in the bath and trying on my new undies, I seriously felt much better... I think the soft lighting in the bedroom probably helped somewhat too.
This post is sponsored by Amoralia who very kindly gifted me with some underwear in my hour of need.
FJ
