It is blowing my mind how fast you three are changing right now. From the shape of your bottom Sonny (yes, a mother knows *everything* about her children, does she not?!) to the specific noises you make Abey to Jack, the beautiful evolvement of your language, I feel like I’ll blink and you’ll be tussling (in deep voices) over who gets to use the bathroom first and asking each other for dating advice. For those of you who are long term readers of the blog, you’ll know the format of these recaps; sporadic and totally from the heart brain dumps of my babes every 6 months or so. So here goes:

Barring early pregnancy and newborn baby days when being simultaneously in a vertical state and dressed was often a challenge, and I gave myself a break (see also ‘15 self care ideas that don’t involve a bubble bath or a face mask’), going to the supermarket with the kids was always a staple and favourite activity of ours.

Admittedly I was a *little* anxious booking a trip to a cottage in the middle of nowhere, with no phone connection, no wifi, no electricity (bar a small compact fridge in the garden), and three young kids.

“I’m just going to go change him, OK”, I call out to my best friend, slinging Abe on to my left hip and grabbing my half open (it’s always half open…) rucksack. I head upstairs to find the bathroom and once in, I shut the door and do a quick scan of the room. “No-freakin’-way”, I mutter to myself, eyes widening, “there’s a bidet!”.