And then there were three...

Our newest, incredibly divine arrival, is another blue one!  Another darling Cub to add to the pack.  Kit Fox Rocket arrived into the world three weeks ago and I will happily admit that I am on a totally different planet to the one I usually inhabit.  Three boys under five is quite something.  The last three weeks have passed in a total and utter blur and I have no idea how the hell I'm ever going to get anything done ever again. Thankfully my brain has signed off meaning I actually can't think any further than that thought.  I guess Mother Nature's kind like that.

The smallest new Cub

So far, the hardest part has been attempting to give all three equal amounts of love and attention, pretending that the smallest Cub's arrival hasn't changed a thing.  The bigger two are not impressed by this new intruder.   Not remotely enjoying his 24/7 crying or the fact that he gets to cling to me all day long.  The first glimpse of the dodgy-looking tummy button cord on night one sent the bigger one into a total spin. Proper hysteria/hyperventilating for a good hour. And then he wouldn't come anywhere near him until it had fallen off.  

Not wanting to scare them about the whole birthing process, they're blissfully unaware of the agony of my c-section scar.  So to them, seeing as I'm no longer a "massive fatso", my role as playmate/punchbag has been instantly resumed.  Coming up with creative reasons for why I can't yet roll around on the floor being a Ninja Turtle or bounce on the trampoline fighting Lego ninjas, is a full time job in itself. 

Although progress has been made.   He earnt their respect after covering me and my brand new J Crew pyjamas with jet propelled, yellow diarrhoea whilst we were all lying in bed this weekend.  Result.  So slowly, I think we'll get there.  I may be black and blue and covered in poo but I have a good feeling about our new life with three...

Terrible Twos

Our usually sweet, funny and happy smallest Cub has been possessed.  Or had a secret personality transplant without me knowing.  Suddenly, over night, he's turned into a tyrant.  An actual small prince of darkness.  Chaz and I are at a total loss.  I was even googling that super nanny at 3am last night while said monster was screaming like his life depended on it while trying to kick down his door at the same time.  Fast forward three hours  and he locked himself into his bedroom.  The bigger Cub managed to sweet talk him out after a half an hour stand off and he emerged, crosser and louder than ever. 

 I know that the two stage is meant to be terrible, but does it really happen, just that like, the minute they turn two?

I guess him flinging himself out of his cot on the morning of his second birthday was his warning that things were going to change around here;  There would be no more Mr Nice Guy.  No more sleeping, no more doing what asked and no more eating anything unless sugar-coated or Pom Bear shaped. 

This morning we have upped our game.  No Peppa Pig watching and no warm milk until he stays in his bed for more than two hours straight.  It is 8.30 am and we have already had eight tantrums and six time outs. Even poor Alice (our tiny dog) is cowering in the corner, quivering at the prospect of the next tyrannical outburst.  The silver lining - one must always look for a silver lining - is that the bigger Cub is loving his little brother's new dog house behaviour.  As I write he is sitting very quietly and  very smugly on the sofa.  Smiling to himself and chirping up every couple of minutes to ask me just how sweet and how well behaved he is.  Long may that last...

Winter in Waddler

If funds would allow, the whole of the Cubs's wardrobes would be filled with Waddler's heavenly creations.  The good news, is that they now make grown up wolf and bear suits too.  And that they're offering free delivery tomorrow.

www.waddler.co.uk

Put TUESDAY in the promo box to get free delivery.

White Out

It tends to be Swedish houses that give me the biggest dose of house envy.  This one is no exception and once again I'm reaching for the white paint. Despite being fully white it somehow feels remarkably cosy.  It's 5.30am as I write - the smallest Cub still firmly believes that the early bird catches the worm - and I can't think of anything more heavenly that climbing into that dreamy looking bed right now.

The photos are taken from Lantliv Magazine

Sophie Hulme

We've just got back from our family skiing "holiday".  It's boring to talk about being tired - and I know I should be used to it by now but going away in a group, as the only ones with children - both aged 3 and under  - to a ski resort  - is not something to be taken lightly.  I was hallucinating with exhaustion when we walked through our front door nine hours later.  I might add - nine hours later and having left the beloved iPad in the bus that took us to Geneva airport.

But more of that another time.  

Whilst waiting at the airport check in, my attempts of trying to stop the screaming, bigger Cub from karate kicking the smaller Cub off the Trunki, were temporarily distracted when the most well dressed, immaculate, peaceful family pulled up in the queue behind us.  How on earth could travelling with a toddler be such a serene, stress free experience? Why weren't they covered in apple puree and Babybell? How were they cool, calm and collected still wearing their Moncler goose-down coats when I was red faced and hot in a grubby t-shirt?  And then I saw their handbags and I realised.  They had quite clearly been hypnotised by their beauty.  Nothing would phase them with one of these on their arm.  One had an orange one, the other black.  

 

Long story short, after landing, waiting at passport control, I came face to face with one of the girls and couldn't resist asking her where I could get one of these visions.   It turned out that her sister - 'Sophie' was the actual designer. She was none other than the magical Sophie Hulme.

Since we got home, every second I've not been tied to the washing machine has been spent trying to track down one of her creations.  At a majorly discounted price.  I'm trying to work out when the next batch of sales are and have an awful feeling it's July.  I have found one on ebay with a dinosaur charm on it.  The Cubs love a dino.  I thought I could maybe use it as a new toy/baby bag - surely a household necessity? 

Birthday Cubs

One of my most favourite birthday presents was this picture of the Cubs my Mumma - artist extraordinaire Kate Corbett-Winder - painted for me.

www.katecorbettwinder.com

Wild for Wilderness

We spent last weekend hanging out at Wilderness festival.  It wasn't as crazy as we'd hoped for as we had both cubs in tow.  I don't usually associate a festival with small cherubs but it was actually such a wholesome, relaxed, child friendly one that it would have felt very odd without them there.  

The Big Cub's transportation

En route...

The whole day was totally food orientated and spent wandering from one food seller to another.  If we'd been more organised we could've been banqueting with Yotam Otteleghi and Valentine Warner but the tickets went like lightening and we made do with the next best thing; Deep fried scallop, pancetta and rocket and seared tuna and tempura samphire burgers from Fin and Flounder.  I hadn't been that excited by the sound of them - the mac'n cheese bar seemed a bit more alluring - but I don't think I've ever tasted anything quite like them.  A proper taste sensation.

The Royal Mail post ladies deliver love letters to fellow campers.

The Jaffe and Neale tent where I would have been doing craft lessons had my book been out in time.

Salami shower curtain?

Small Cub's lunch time.  No Scallop burger for him...

My most favourite place was a tent designed by couture florists 'Bella and Fifi'.  Sitting bang in the middle of the festival mayhem was the most serene, calm, flowery haven. A secret hideout where you could make your own flowery masks and head dresses, sitting around a bath of gypsophila and hydrangeas.

The Bella and Fifi tent with the hydrangea bath.

A Bella and Fifi flower mask.

A passing fleet of singing foxes.

www.wildernessfestival.com