Monkey see, monkey do

So it seems that Elijah's passion for his monkey is shared by a certain, rising star, Mr Wobble. Wobble and his own monkey are inspiring artists all over the world - including Marisa at Creative Thursday, who painted this lovely picture. Here is our homage to Marisa's creation. Are there any more monkeys out there?

Rain

I woke up today at 6 am to the sound of the rain and a baby snuffling beside me. He managed to go back to sleep but I lay awake and listened to the sound of the rain, one of my favourite sounds. It was made even better by knowing that I can stay in and have a quiet day cosying up on the sofa with two of my favourite companions. In true British style - what's the weather like where you are today and how does it make you feel?

Three months

Dear E,

This day, three months ago, you were beginning to make your entry into the world. You arrived in a calm and happy rush, and seemed to sleep your way through the first month or so. You were a tiny dormouse, so small and fragile. We struggled to keep you awake and make you feed.

You have changed so much since then. Almost overnight you grew chubby thighs and rounded cheeks. Now your big blue eyes are always open, taking in the world around you. We sometimes struggle to make you sleep, you are so full of energy.

Each day with you is different. Some days are difficult, like when you cry won't sleep and I am desperate for some time to myself, even if just to get dressed. But you teach me to take each day, each moment, as it comes. Even if you have cried and thrashed to sleep, you will wake up happy and smiling. I would love to see the world through your eyes.

I can't wait to see what the next three months have in store for us.

Love,

Mama

Mama lion

I was 5 or 6. In the playground at break time, some boys started picking on me. I am not sure why or how, but I remember their cruel words and kicks. When my mum collected me after school I was in tears. I told her what had happened she asked me to point out who had done this to me. My mother's love was fierce like a mama lion. She had a temper. My mum found these boys and told them never to touch me again. They didn't. I remember her holding me, my legs wrapped round her waist, my arms round her neck, feeling so safe and protected.

And now I have my own child to protect. Each night after feeding, I pick my son up in the dark of the early hours and carry him back to bed, his arms wrapped round me and his head buried in my neck. This moment is beautiful. I would do anything for my cub.
lioness on black
Originally uploaded by The Kruger Kid

Return

I have been on a blog hiatus. A very long hiatus. An 'I'm not sure about this whole blog thing, I might just give up' type hiatus. In the midst of this break, in fact just a few days after I wrote my last post in August, a little seed was planted during a magical storm. This seed took nine months to blossom. He will be six weeks old tomorrow.

And suddenly I have had the urge to blog again. To record this new adventure. So here I am. Tired, half-dressed and hungry. But happy. My baby boy in a sling round my neck making little squeaks in his sleep, and a cat trying to find a bit of lap to sit on.

I'm going to hit publish before I change my mind.

The comfort of words

I love listening to words as well as reading them. I have always loved listening to stories, audiobooks on car and train journeys and the radio. I grew up with a mother who always had Radio 4 on in the background, as now I do, when I am cooking, cleaning, working.

Recently I have discovered the lovely podcasts by Marisa at Creative Thursday. Marisa's words have been inspiring me as I go on rainy evening walks, on sunny morning bus journeys to work, during moments at the day job where I feel I can't type out a single more word (yes, we are allowed to wear ipods at work). I love hearing the story of someone who has taken risks, jumped right in and is leading a truly creative life and is willing to share all she has learnt.

You can listen to Marisa's podcasts here at Creative Thursday.

What words are you listening to? 

The power of words

Last month I was excited to have a piece published in The Guardian's family section. It had only submitted it a week or so before and I by chance found an email in my junk folder saying it was going to be published the next day. 

I wrote it anonymously because it was a bit of a sensitive subject and I didn't want the people involved to read it. And I thought they never would. But by a weird twist of fate, my uncle happened to be with my mum when I texted here to tell her to go and buy the paper. She did, and began reading it aloud before she realised what it was about. I was mortified, and although my mum assured me my uncle wasn't, I felt so embarrassed to think he had read it. 

As I begin to write more and more this is something I wonder about. How much of the personal do you put into your writing. I know that when I write, the personal has a way of weaving itself in there. I can't shut it out, and I don't want to. But it can get me into trouble. Tonight I've been working on another piece about a friendship. Again, it is sensitive and I wouldn't want the person involved to read it. I will keep it anonymous and if it is published, it will be in a magazine I doubt she'll have even heard of. But even so, I feel slightly anxious about laying this story out on the page. 

Do you struggle with this too? What do you do with the personal stuff - leave it in or leave it out? Has writing ever got you into trouble? 

You can read my Guardian letter here.