Midweek Musings: Our 'holiday'

So, I read somewhere once that a holiday with a baby is just an excuse to be exhausted in a different place. How. Very. True.

I don't understand how some parents seem to take their babies off hitchhiking around the world, climbing Everest and suchlike, and we can't even manage a week in the West Country.

The annoying thing about all this is that I had to practically drag Oli on holiday - he was convinced it wouldn't be worth it, that it would just be too stressful with our challenging little madam in tow. And he was bloody right. Nearly. Almost. Grrr.

I will add a caveat here, that we're both control freaks and like everything to be 'just so' and we're definitely NOT the sort of people who would go hitchhiking round the world even without a baby. But still. Here's what we've been 'enjoying' so far this holiday...

1) We got lost on the way down because we have a new car with a fancy built in sat nav that confuses the hell out of me. It tried to be all clever and avoid the M25 which was congested, so instead we ended up going to Farnham or something, then I missed a turning and before I knew it we we'd added an hour to the journey. Adding an hour to the journey when you already have a grumpy nine month old who doesn't want to be stuck in her car seat for five hours in one day is a Bad Idea.

2) The new car makes me very, very car sick. I only don't feel sick if I am driving so I drove the whole way down. This would be fine if it weren't for the fact that I have now apparently 'ruined' the new car's engine by revving too much. Uh huh.

3) It rained the entire way down. We stopped at a Little Chef to change Daph/have a wee. We got soaked just getting in and out of the car. The Little Chef toilet will forever haunt me. No baby deserves to be changed in a Little Chef baby change. Not even the screamers. (Sidenote: good business idea - can someone open a NICE place to stop midway between London and Devon for all the middle class twats like us that want a decent cup of coffee and some avocado on sourdough as their motorway meal. I'm thinking farm shop type affair - maybe with a play area for kids? Any takers?)

4) We got to the holiday complex late and got told off by the lady on reception for not phoning her back when she'd kindly rung earlier to say that our cottage was ready at 11am. HA. As if we could make it down to Devon by 11am. We couldn't even do that Before Baby. (We arrived at about 5.30pm - it took us three weeks to load the car FGS).

5) Daph missed her third nap in the car and spent the last hour of the journey basically screaming with frustration and trying to bite her way out of the car seat. When we got to the cottage we had a race against time to get her into her cot and to sleep as she'd been awake since 1pm. More than four hours of awake time in a nine month old = the release of the devil.

6) Daph predictably screamed with overtiredness and freaked out at being in a new place. For TWO HOURS. I had to suffocate her to sleep (obviously not really, but I had to do the pin down arms thing for about an hour before she finally went - sob).

7) The next day, we went to Totnes because Oli had seen in the information pack that on the third Sunday of every month there was a farmers' market on. Once we'd paid £4.50 for the car park we realised that it was the fourth Sunday of the month. And that all the shops were shut. And then it started to hail. We went home after visiting the... Co-Op.

8) On Monday we decided to prioritise Daph's naps, as she'd been waking in the night. This meant we basically couldn't go anywhere as she sleeps for two hours in the middle of the day. We headed off to a farm shop in the afternoon to buy some lovely bread. They'd run out of bread. We stopped at Sainsbury's on the way back.

9) Yesterday we went to Dartmouth - my favourite place in all the world. It took us about an hour to find a parking space. Then Daph started screaming, and didn't stop. We had a delightful fish and chip lunch where Daph made As Much Noise As She Possibly Could - including tipping my pink lemonade all over my food, choking on a piece of haddock, throwing the metal tray with the bill onto the floor and screaming at all the waiters who tried to be nice to her. We then realised she's teething so badly that she's got little blisters on her tongue - I think she might have started to chewing it to ease the pain. She refused to eat her lunch or her dinner and only wanted milk. She cried a lot. I cried a lot.

10) I realised I was getting PMT. So much for the holiday reigniting 'that side of things'. Oli and I stopped speaking to each other directly and instead simply slagged each other off under our breath all day. Standard.

11) While desperately marching around Dartmouth trying to get Daph to nap, a random woman came up to me and told me that I was at risk of suffocating her because I'd covered the buggy with a towel. Apparently she'd seen an article about it on Facebook. If it wasn't for the fisherman nearby who overheard and said 'Why don't you mind your own business you nosey bitch?' I might have punched her. Or cried. Again.

12) I saw the weather forecast in London. It's a good eight degrees warmer up there.

So yes. That's our 'holiday' so far. We are staying in the middle of nowhere, which I thought I would like but I do not. I have realised that I hate being in the middle of nowhere. I hate not being able to walk to anything. Having to get in the car every time we want to go out is such a pain with a baby. Sure, the views are lovely, the sounds of sheep bleating (they don't baa, apparently, they bleat, although I am still yet to discover why) are lovely, the cottage is beautiful and very well equipped. But there's nowhere to walk to with a buggy (we don't have one of those all-terrain ones), unless you want to risk your life on Devonshire country lanes.

We have spent a lot of our holiday sitting on our iPad and laptop which is pretty much what we do at home.

I'm trying to think of some positives because I know I sound like a whingy old cow. We DID buy some bloody nice fillet steaks in the farm shop. We've been drinking a lot of alcohol. There's wifi. At least I remembered my coat, if not my gloves (brr). There have been the odd moments of beautiful weather and deep breaths of non-polluted air. Everyone we see loves Daph (apart from the waiters in the fish and chip restaurant) and she's loving all the attention. She's still adorably cute even with the grumps and a sore mouth. At least we didn't spend stupid money trying to go abroad *mind explodes at the thought of the stress*.

But I must confess, if you follow me, my Instagram feed... it's basically a lie. But I reckon they all are, so never mind.

Sarah Hamilton's Just a Card campaign

I've known artist and designer Sarah Hamilton for a few years now - and in fact I interviewed her about her work on this very blog. She's a wonderfully talented, vivacious and passionate person and when she told me about her latest endeavour - the fabulous Just a Card campaign, I was so impressed.

If you've not heard about it, the campaign aims to encourage people to buy 'just a card' if they go into an independent shop or gallery. So many galleries are closing down because people pop in, have a look around, see the prices of the artwork and feel that to buy something significant would be out of their reach financially. Even if they love the designs on offer, they often feel too embarrassed to make a small purchase - such as a card or some wrapping paper. However, it's these small purchases, when repeated by many customers, that can make all the difference to a struggling gallery owner's finances.

Sarah was inspired to start the campaign when she saw the quote "If everyone who'd complimented our beautiful gallery had bought 'just a card' we'd still be open". The message was simple and clear - if you go into an independent store, don't be embarrassed if you can only afford to spend a few pounds! As Sarah pointed out when we talked about it over dinner lately, you wouldn't be embarrassed to go to Tesco and only buy a mass-produced card, but we know who'd appreciate the purchase more.

I'm passionate about passionate people who turn their passions into their livelihood - it really takes guts and balls, and in our age of huge faceless corporations I truly love to support independent people wherever possible. I've mentioned before my love of Dartmouth (and we're off there on holiday again later this month) - it's my happy place and one of the main reasons is the plethora of quirky independent shops - many of which are art galleries - and all of which I can easily spend hours in browsing. The shopkeepers are always friendly and love to chat and tell you about all the things they're selling - it's so wonderful to know that the things you are buying were made with love and care. I'm not particularly hippy in general but I do think surrounding yourself with things that have a real story behind them lifts your spirits.

I'm so happy to see that Sarah's campaign is really gaining momentum, but if you haven't supported it yet, please do! You can check out the website, follow them on Twitter and keep up to date with their progress on their blog. But most important of all, please do buy 'just a card' if you go into an independent shop or gallery - you really will be making all the difference!

Midweek Musings: Sharenting

sharenting-lifebylotte

Before I had a baby, I used to roll my eyes a bit (OK, quite a lot) at people who endlessly shared pics of their children on social media. I mean, everyone loves to see pictures of newborns and there's nothing nicer than congratulating someone who's just pushed a small person out of their bits. But the endless pictures clogging up my FB feed of kids in fancy dress, on their first day at school, eating a piece of toast etc etc did get a bit tiresome. For the uninitiated, the media calls this 'sharenting' - smug journos do love a portmanteau.

I always swore I'd never be like that if I had a baby.

HA HA HA.

When Daph was first born, Oli and I had a Very Serious Discussion about whether or not we would upload pictures of her to Facebook etc. We both agreed that we'd rather not (Oli is ridiculously private about everything which is quite tricky when you're a singer with fans - he gets some lovely emails from folk who always want to know more about him). But then when she was first born, obviously I blogged about it (given that I blogged throughout pregnancy it would have been a bit weird not to), and then put up an album on FB because - genuinely! - people asked to see pics (it's only for friends and family right, so allowed?) and then before I knew it I was non-stop Instagramming her.

Because to me, of course, she's the most beautiful baby that ever lived and I find so much pleasure in taking and looking at pics of her that I just want to share this pleasure with the world. The fact that the world does not feel the same way about her as I do does not really compute. It's like a weird compulsion. And Oli, private though he is, is also her adoring parent and so when I put up pics of her on Instagram and show him, he smiles his mushy smile and we both bask in a wave of oxytocin, our first conversation long forgotten.

But I do realise now that I've started to sharent. My god, I even blog about her. Although I really hope blogging is slightly different as I hope that my posts about baby-related things actually help mothers in similar situations. They're less about showing off and more about solidarity. And also, a way for me to look back on this time and remember stuff that I will inevitably have forgotten. At least, that's my intention.

I read an article this weekend about how kids these days have a digital footprint before the age of one, and it really got me thinking. Am I invading Daph's privacy by plastering her all over the internet before she's old enough to consent? Am I behaving as though I 'own' her? Is it actually really selfish? But then again, seeing as most people do it is it actually no big deal? Considering some parents make a living vlogging about their babies is what I'm doing relatively insignificant? Will babies whose parents didn't put up images of them online grow up feeling insecure and unloved? I am so in two minds. I have never pinned pics of her because the idea of someone repinning pictures of my baby creeps me out, but then again anyone can pin them from this blog should they wish (please don't!). I started watermarking some images of her before uploading them but then got lazy. I thought about doing that thing of only shooting her from behind or out of focus but... but... but... that means you don't get to see HER BEAUTIFUL FACE! I also thought maybe I'd just stick to only putting photos of her on FB and not on Instagram but then I might as well delete my Insta account because let's be honest, I have a baby under one, my whole life at the moment revolves around her.

It's a conundrum. I wish I could ask Daph want she thinks and it's frustrating that the generation of babies whose parents have been oversharing them since they were just an ultrasound picture aren't quite old enough yet to let us know how they feel about it. I take some solace in the fact that I can delete the pics I have put up of her at any time - I've never used images of her in a professional capacity.

I would LOVE to know your thoughts on this topic - please leave me a comment if you're a parent and let me know what you've decided to do and why. For now, Oli and I have tentatively agreed to stop posting images of her (at least on public sites such as my blog and Instagram) once she turns one. I'm not sure why but it feels like a good cut off - after this point she's no longer a baby (sniff) and more her own person. I just hope I have the willpower...

Midweek Musings: Learning to walk properly

Hello there. I had the loveliest week last week, including a fab night at the Rooftop Book Club, with beautiful views across London, a trip to see Sunset Boulevard with Glenn Close (which was absolutely awesome, go go go!) and then a morning spent at Syon Park, learning how to walk.

Yep, you heard that right. My mum very kindly bought me a ticket to Joanna Hall's Walkactive Workshop as a kind of motivational post-baby kick up the bottom. When she told me about it I was a bit sceptical - I mean, a walking workshop? I'm not elderly or infirm just yet... I also worried I'd be the youngest person there by a mile but then that's because I forget that I'm 35, and that isn't actually that young anymore... Ahem. Also, I do walk a lot - all the time and everywhere, so I did wonder if there was actually anything I could learn. However, I was willing to concede that my posture is terrible. And I was pleasantly (is that the right way of putting it?!) surprised during the workshop to learn that basically I was doing it all wrong.

I won't go into the whole process here, because there was loads to take in (it's scientifically proven and everything!) but it's really worth looking into if you're at all worried about your posture (as I was, and have been for ages). During the workshop we were taught how to push off from our feet correctly, meaning that we used the muscles in our legs in the right way, and how this followed up through the way you hold every part of your body to the very top of your head.

The best bit of the morning was at the end when we split into two groups and did a kind of catwalk together - the first time walking our 'old way', the second time walking in the way we'd just been taught. The difference watching people was quite staggering actually - everyone looked so much more purposeful and cheerful walking the 'Walkactive' way, and downtrodden and depressed walking as they used to. I could also really feel different muscles in my legs being used as I walked correctly, and I found my pace picked up so much that I almost felt as though I was doing a brisk trot, but without looking stupid. If that makes any sense at all. It was a very satisfying feeling.

So, definitely worth looking into if you think it might be of interest - I love walking and one of the best things about being a mum is having an excuse to get out and push her in the buggy every day - the days I don't walk I find myself very frustrated and miserable. And now I know how to use my legs and feet properly, I can already feel my thighs toning up - and that is only ever going to be a good thing! There are workshops and residential camps on offer to learn the Walkactive technique, but if that seems too much of a commitment, there's also a book and DVD. Find out more on the Walkactive website >

The truth about estate agent euphemisms

estate-agent-speak-lifebylotte

In need of modernisation - falling down

Cosy - none of your furniture will fit

Spacious accommodation - one of the rooms downstairs is open-plan

Flexible accommodation - the layout makes no sense

Viewing advised - unless you're the kind of person who likes to buy houses they haven't seen before

Secluded location - no one will hear you scream as you're murdered in your bed

Off-street parking (in London) - enjoy the view of your car parked in front of your living room window

Low-maintenance garden - a yard

West-facing garden - still not south facing though you suckers

Blank canvas - a building site

Architect designed - weird looking

Charming - see 'cosy'

Rarely available - impossible to value

Popular location - good luck finding a parking space on the street

Within catchment area of Very Good School - £21,000 more expensive than houses round the corner

Well located - wave at the people on the bus as they go past your bedroom window

Potential to extend - we refuse to be held liable if you can't get the planning

Tremendous scope for improvement - knackered

Much-loved family home - knackered

No onward chain - gold dust

Ideal investment opportunity - short lease

Well presented - a magnolia nightmare

Light and airy  - all the walls are white

Within metres of the station - insomniacs best not apply

Tree-lined road - beware the dog poo

Call to avoid disappointment - if we big it up maybe someone might book a viewing

Beautifully presented - done up to the nines by someone who watched too much Changing Rooms

Within easy reach of the station - too far to walk, not far enough to drive. Ergo, a frustrating distance

Fabulously honest in presentation - a shithole and we can't even be bothered to lie about it

Any obvious ones I've missed?! Do share in the comments below!

Read the truth about life with a newborn >

Read the truth about health visitors >

Read the truth about parenting sleep deprivation >

Midweek Musings: Househunting hell

Hello hello. I didn't blog last week because I was in the midst of the most painful househunting search of all time. In fact, I'm still in the midst of it, but thought I ought to write something down on here so that hopefully one day I can look back and laugh at what we went through. Hmm. Since we lost the dream house, we have put offers in on two other houses (bear in mind that this is a time period of just a week and a half) of which one was accepted for AN HOUR before being 'unaccepted' when someone put in a higher bid (we were told we weren't able to increase our offer either, which smacks of developers giving the agents backhanders if you ask me); and the other which was tentatively accepted but with the caveat 'were we aware that the house had been underpinned?' The guarantee for the underpinning had now expired and it was impossible to get insurance. Sigh. We pulled out.

Every waking hour at the moment is spent on Rightmove and On the Market, just trying to find something - anything - that would 'do'. We've long since given up on finding another dream house and it's actually crazy that considering what a huge decision this is, we're now prepared to just settle for any old house that roughly meets our criteria. Unfortunately one of the main issues (self-created admittedly) is our criteria does change a lot - sometimes we think sod it, let's stick two fingers up at London, its pollution and its ridiculous house prices and escape to the country, other times we think there's no way we could cope with not being within spitting distance of a tube.

This time of year is supposed to be the busiest for the housing market but I can honestly say that there's hardly anything coming onto the market - we check every morning what's come on in the last 24 hours in our 400 search areas and there's usually only one or two new properties at the most. And they all go under offer so quickly! It's crazy - you even have to fight to get a viewing (with estate agents laughing at you when you request to see 'extremely popular' properties and then telling you they're far too busy to fit you in).

So yes. It's crap. In order to wrestle back some feeling of control however, this week we did manage to buy a new car. Saturday was a fun day - ordering a new car + rushing to get to viewings of two houses - as the estate agent pointed out 'you don't do things by halves do you?'. Anyway we're picking up the car on Friday, and I'm both excited and terrified about this. It's a super practical, super boring Volkswagen Tiguan and we've got it on some ridiculous finance deal which took eighteen hours to organise and means we don't actually own it but is bizarrely the cheapest way for us to be able to drive something that won't fall apart on the A3.

On top of all this madness, I have client work coming out of my eyeballs (not really) and Oli is trying to organise everything for his show at the Edinburgh Festival in August. We are communicating in grunts of 'Have you seen this house?' and 'What time do you want to eat dinner?' and the rest of our time is spent either entertaining Daphne, driving to see houses or with our heads in front of a screen. Oh what fun it is in our house at the moment!

On the upside, Daphne is a TOTAL JOY and has started blowing raspberries at us whenever we look at her. Which just about puts everything into perspective really.

Mini Review: Hotel du Vin Bristol

I'll be honest - my life at the moment is just househunting, househunting, househunting, and there's really not much to blog about. So I thought I'd write a little review of the hotel we stayed at during Easter in Bristol, when visiting my oldest uni friend. Soph has just had her first baby and I was desperate to meet him, but obviously Bristol is a bit of trek from London. I had contemplated driving there and back on my own for the day, but really wanted to take Daphne as another uni friend of ours, Rachel, was also going to be there. She lives in Oz and had yet to meet Daph. But it seemed mean to make Daphne spend five hours in the car in one day, hence my plan for an overnight stay...

I also decided to drag Oli along too to make it into a bit of a mini break (ha!). I started off looking at hotels in Bath, thinking there wouldn't be anything that special in Bristol itself (I'm a bit of a hotel snob), and did indeed find somewhere lovely but it was seriously pricey. I'm not sure once you have a baby (or ever?!) you can really justify spending more than £250 for ONE night in a hotel room... And then, quite by chance, I stumbled across the Hotel du Vin - I didn't even know there was one in Bristol! And it was really good value by comparison - just £140.

So I booked it and both wrote in my special requirements on the booking form and phoned to ask them to put a cot in the room. The woman on the phone was like 'yeah, you already asked for a cot in your room when you booked. Chill out you over-anxious first time mother*'. But I just had this dread of turning up and there being nowhere for Daph to sleep... We've obviously been away with her before when we went to Devon for my birthday, but that was self catering and much more baby friendly (plus we took her cot with us!).

Right, waffle waffle waffle. This was meant to be a mini review! Let's just say I was nervous when we turned up. And I couldn't have been more impressed. The lady on reception immediately told us we'd been upgraded to a studio suite. I suspect this may have been to keep the baby away from the other guests, but perhaps I'm being too cynical. Either way, I've never been upgraded before so was childishly excited about this. Then the receptionist made a massive fuss of Daphne - she even called over a colleague to coo over her too. I was so worried we'd be shunned, as Hotel du Vin isn't really a child-focused chain, but I'm happy to say they couldn't have been more welcoming.

We went up to our room (the Dom Perignon suite no less) and it was absolutely huge - with a lovely sofa area and a perfect little corner for Daph's cot (which was all set up, with blankets and towels too). The bathroom was ridiculous - a gigantic walk-in shower, plus separate claw-footed bath. There was a Nespresso machine (ye Gods hurrah!) with a choice of capsules, swanky toileteries as you'd expect, and everything was clean and lovely.

There was also an absolutely enormous television, which alas, we never got to watch for fear of waking Daph. So instead, at 7pm we put her to bed in her little darkened corner while we watched the iPad on the enormous bed and tucked into room service (which was delicious).

The hotel is based in an old sugar factory, and has a fantastic industrial vibe - the rooms and decor are all very masculine and moody but I think when you're staying in a city it's kind of nice to have a dark room to retreat to. One thing I have to mention though, is the noise outside. The hotel is on a main road and unfortunately the traffic was insanely loud, all through the night. I don't know if it would be better if you had a room at the back of the building - I'm assuming so, but our room was very noisy indeed and if you're a light sleeper I imagine you'd have problems.

Unfortunately we didn't sleep particularly well thanks to Daph waking up at 1am, realising she wasn't at home and getting all excited and refusing to go back to sleep. She ended up in our bed - sigh. In the morning, we trundled downstairs for breakfast in the very French-themed restaurant area. We were one of the first people down for breakfast, which made an interesting change from the old days of me rushing to grab stale croissants at 10.30 as the waiters start clearing them away. The breakfast (I had a full English!) was fab, with a load of pastries and cereals on offer in the buffet section, plus fresh juice and fruit - precisely what you'd expect from a nice hotel. We sat Daph in a high chair, and she happily ate her porridge while staring around at everyone and farting impressively loudly from time to time, just to humiliate us. The high chair was clean but a bit smelly, which was rather gross - I guess those things take some abuse. I'm a bit OCD so as soon as she'd finished eating I put her back on my lap, as she'd decided to start munching on the straps.... ewww.

We didn't actually go into Bristol's centre, but I'm told that the hotel is really well located for all the shopping and the cultural stuff. All in all, I was really impressed and really enjoyed our little night away from home. It's got me thinking again about sorting out a proper summer holiday for us all - perhaps not abroad as for one thing I really can't be faffed with getting Daphne a passport, but somewhere in the west country might be just the ticket...

*not her exact words

Midweek Musings: We lost the house

So it turns out I must be cursed. Surely it can't be normal to have the vendor of a house you're buying pull out of the sale TWO DAYS before you're meant to exchange, TWICE? But alas, that's what's happened to us. We found out yesterday that, after months of messing us about, the elderly lady we'd been buying our little midcentury house in Wimbledon from had decided once and for all that she didn't want to move after all, and pulled out. She'd already had a little 'wobble' as she'd called it, a few weeks ago, but we'd been to view it again and she'd reassured us that she did indeed want to move and that she was happy to sell it to us, with exchange set for this Thursday (I think she liked the idea that it was going to a young family).

She was supposed to be buying a brand new retirement home just around the corner, but the developers had been very very pushy with her, trying to get her to move sooner than she wanted to, and I think in the end the whole thing became far too stressful for her. We also found out yesterday that she's 93! (she lives alone) so it is an incredible amount of upheaval to deal with at her age. I can't be cross with her.

But my, are we disappointed. What a waste of time, and stress, and money. And like I said, this isn't the first time this has happened to me - it happened about five years ago when I was trying to buy a house in Tooting Bec - my house was under offer at the time when the woman I was buying from pulled out, and in the end I had no choice but to go into rented accommodation to make sure the sale didn't collapse. It worked out OK in the end (and is how I came to live in my current flat), but it was literally a year and a half of hassle and aggro, and I remember that trying to find somewhere to rent with a week's notice was one of the most stressful things I'd ever had to deal with. I suppose I should be grateful that this time we're not homeless at least.

Anyway, you'll forgive me for this slightly sombre post. I am so so sick of house hunting now, it feels as though we've been doing it forever, and it's constantly two steps forward, eight steps back. I just want a home, godammit, and somewhere for Daphne to sit outside in the summer! I know in comparisons to millions of others we're lucky to have my flat but we're just so on top of each other all the time, especially as we both work from home, and there's just simply not enough space.

So yes. Boo. Sigh. Sob. Onwards. Etc.

Midweek Musings: You're So Vain

I bet you think this blog post is about you. Or, er, me. Which it is. What I mean to say is, I'm so vain. I don't know whether it's the warmer weather or the fact that Daph is sleeping better so I can no longer blame her for my daily Stig of the Dump impression, but anyway, I've decided it's time to get myself together. Appearance wise.

I mentioned teeth whitening in my last blog post - and a few of my friends IRL told me that they'd had the Zoom treatment and it was beyond painful, so that's kind of put me off that a bit. BUT. Today I had my hair done and - drum roll please - CUT for the first time in... well, so long I'm ashamed. Anyway I wanted to go back to the ombre thing I blogged about last year but get it done properly this time. And get my lob cut back in. I asked the hairdresser to match the ombre to my roots. Which were coming through looking properly BROWN. But she insisted I was still a 'dark blonde' and so we went with that colour. And voila...

Hilariously, my roots are now the exact same colour as Daphne's hair, which is quite nice really. We match! I can't believe how much lighter it looks than I imagined it would and although it's very 'ashy' (and obviously a lot darker!) I actually quite like it. Oli nodded his head in approval too, which is a bonus.

Best of all, there's no sign of any YELLOW hair - my absolute pet hate about blonde hair is when it goes yellow or gingery. Yuck.

I've also treated myself to some new skincare - the Alpha H Liquid Gold serum that everyone talks about. I've used glycolic acid masks before and really liked them - I hate any mechanical exfoliates as my skin is so sensitive. I've only used the Liquid Gold once so far and I definitely noticed a difference the next day - my skin was tauter and smoother, but not massively so. I'm going to use it two or three times a week as suggested to see how it works long term.

I also went to M&S earlier this week to get the baby something and ended up spending shedloads on Stila make up. There's a massive M&S right by my flat and I often go there when I'm bored and want to take the baby for a walk. Anyway I'd never really looked at the M&S make up section but had noticed recently they now sell Ren, which is really good as I use their clarifying toner every day. But then I spotted Stila, and I dunno - perhaps it's the brown packaging but everything suddenly looked REALLY enticing and promised amazing things. So I bought a lipstick, some BB cream (why Charlotte? You HATE BB cream) and a eyebrow kit thingy which is sadly quite crap - back to drawing mine on with pencil I think.

I don't know why but just BUYING make up always really cheers me up. Now what I really need to do is shift this extra 10 pounds I'm carrying around from being a pregnant pig. Then my transformation will be complete. Ha ha! I suspect the only way to do this is cardio - namely, running, SOB - so have resolved to get back into it after Easter and all the eggs. Ahem.

On that note, hope you all have a fab Easter. We're off to Bristol to visit my uni friend Sophy who's just had her first baby, and I'm quite excited as we're staying in the Hotel du Vin so it's almost a little mini break. Will let you know how we get on sharing a hotel room with a seven-month-old... bedtime at 7pm, that should be fun!

I have a new website...

Just in case you're interested, I've relaunched my professional website. You can find it at charlotteduckworth.com.

Don't have a huge amount to say about this really, but if you're interested in working with me, get in touch! I offer lots of services, from ghostwriting your company blogs (don't worry, won't be anywhere near as sweary as these ones) to copywriting website text and newsletters and helping you with your PR and online marketing. I really like working with small indie brands with passionate owners (and if you're a mumpreneur then even better) and although my background is predominantly in the interiors industry, I'm also keen to work with lifestyle brands and anything kids' related at the moment (for obvious reasons!).

Oh and I also do journalism! Ha! Forgot about that - it's only what I'm actually trained to do. But not for peanuts please, I have a mortgage to pay and a small person to clothe.

Anyway, that's enough of a sales pitch. Have a look at my site if you want to read even more marketing speak!