makealongstoryshort makealongstoryshort

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Rachel Jeffcoat  editor • writer • toddler-wrangler • forest-rambler •

Our hanging baskets are empty (gardening has felt like a job too far this season) and today has been one long errandpalooza, but when you've got a pushchair for a sun-lounger and the sky looks like that, you can't really complain ☀️☀️☀️

[then I can more conveniently and frequently poop through my entire wardrobe]

Mornings are always frantic at the moment - I take Imogen to school starving every other day, and it's a minor miracle if we've all brushed our teeth - but today we arrived, I noticed H had a huge toothpaste stain on his jumper, I had no wipes and too many things to carry (including child #3) so decided just this once to leave it and let him be dirty. And guess what? It's school picture day.
I don't know why that was the last straw, but it was. I am that parent. I hate it. 😭😭😭 Please do a girl a favour and tell me your worst parenting fails in the comments. I need to know I'm not the only one who can't get her FREAKING ACT TOGETHER.

Happiness is a good pair of cheeks. Two months in ❤️

I wanted to read 50 books this year, and I'm a little behind - thanks v. much, birth 🙄 Haven't included the ones I started but didn't finish: I got a quarter of the way through The Light Between Oceans last month, but by that point two babies had died and I had a newborn, so thought hey, maaaaaybe not.
I might comfort-read Wolf Hall again. EVERY day's a Thomas Cromwell day. #mantel4lyfe #whereisthesequel #seriouslywhere

First time trying cheese-stuffed bacon-wrapped chicken for lunch. Actual quotes that followed: 'This looks discustin'.
'It's a cocoon! Is there caterpillar soup inside?'
'I don't like cheese'. [Cheese is literally his favourite thing.]
'I've picked off all the bacon but the rest is gross'.
'Urgh, this cheese is SOUR'. [?!?] Who needs the Masterchef judges? Also, IT WAS NICE.

Happy Saturday! Elinor was on our (my) name shortlist for this one - one of the pleasures of being in your thirties is that you can stop pretending to yourself that you're a Lizzy Bennet and embrace your inner Elinor Dashwood with an entirely sensible amount of gusto.
EDIT: not that being in your thirties dooms you to be sensible always; just that I have always been an Elinor, and these days am unabashed to admit it.

My postnatal body feels like a battleground after a long campaign.
It's good to remember that it's also their port in a storm.

Middle left: me whenever I switch on the news
Middle right: me at all other times
Relating hard to this Babies Make Weird Faces grid this morning. Which one's your Friday mood? 😄

Be fierce, little girl 🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️

I am prrrretty excited about bedtime today, let me tell you, but still: look at this evening sun! Glorious!
Seriously though, go to bed.

"I love her, I love her, I am completely obsessed – and Tim is totally her favourite. I’m like a needy super-fan whose celebrity crush doesn’t know she exists. I mean, not quite, of course, I exaggerate, she thinks I’m alright; but she adores her Daddy. It’s gorgeous to watch and also sort of annoying, like MY BODY ATE ITSELF TO BIRTH YOU, CHILD: LOVE ME BEST."
-- new post about the unexpected highs and lows from Imogen's first two months. I wrote it at 11pm with an inch-thick slice of buttered toast, which says it all really. (Link up here 👆🏻)

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