A week ago I passed my theory test – again. See how I feel like I have to tag that on the end? At the test centre, three people asked if it was my first time taking it and when I responded, consoled me: “Second time lucky.” No one can say the West Country isn’t friendly.

I then launched into awkwardly explaining that I passed two years ago but let it expire because I hadn’t got around to taking the practical. Come to think of it, their assumption looked better than the truth that I’ve been learning to drive for two and a third years. Yes, I’ve been a bit distracted, you know, with a small child kind of distraction, but still.

So, I sat at the test screen all ready to start. I’d done my revision and everything (albeit not with an up-to-date book) so should be good to go. Then I had the sudden panic: “What if I FAIL this time?” Then: “What if this process is taking me so long because I’m not MEANT to drive?” And after that: “What if I learn to drive and KILL A CAT?” At seventeen I’d never thought I’d still be learning to drive ten years later but maybe there’s a reason.

Anyway, I passed. And I’ve booked my practical for the closest date I could – early July. So maybe, just maybe, I’ll have got this thing kicked in three years total? I don’t even want to think of how much money has been haemorrhaged in this process. I will drive. I will. Right?

This is the bluntest pair of scissors known to man – possibly because I’ve been cutting paper with it

Later in the week I was clearing through the house, starting to get things sorted for our big house move and found some henna I’d won over Twitter from Lush. So I got it into my head that I was going to do a makeover. I used way too much of it and ended up making a huge mess as a result but lesson learned for next time. However! It conditioned my hair beautifully. Oh my goodness, I’m a total convert. I think it’s given me reddish hue too but Laurence doesn’t see it, partly because he’s classically “male brained” that way and partly because my hair is too dark for anyone who doesn’t look at me as obsessively as I do to see it.

In this whole makeover shenanigans, I got the bright idea that I’d cut my hair. So I dug out a pair of scissors and gave my hair a good old hack until I realised the pair was just too blunt to do the job. Cue, another pair of scissors and a bit more of a snip. I looked at my work. I wasn’t sure. Then I went to bed. And I woke up distressed. I had cut my hair too short. Oh no. This from the girl who used to shave her head. I’ve come to realise that having hair makes me feel feminine though. I almost made Laurence late for work as he tried to listen sympathetically to my despair over my ruined image, the washing machine having died and my general pre-menstrual meltdown. Woe. Talitha just looked at me like: “Mummy, get over yourself.”

Then I styled it with coconut oil and water (I’m trying to stop putting chemicals in it these days) and to my amazement, I like it! In fact, I love it. In fact, I kind of think my hair should always be this length. It kind of reminds me of the girl in Run, Fatboy, Run. I love her hair. Furthermore, I have seen a whole bunch of my friends since then and the only one who noticed the new hair was one I don’t see very often, so, win!

The highlights of the week, however, were on the weekend. On Saturday, Laurence arranged to go do a fun photoshoot over near Bath so I decided to ignore the fact that we desperately need to pack and take Talitha to Windmill Hill City Farm‘s Spring Festival. It was amazing. Great music, yummy food, crafts, outdoor play, stalls but my 23-month-old only really cared about her toddler friend and the animals, especially the visiting owls and donkeys. That night, as she drifted to sleep, she kept murmuring, “Ee-yore, dawn-key.” It was the sweetest sound there ever was.

Talitha was fascinated with the tiny frogs

We ended up buying a CD to take home the pretty, if trippy, sounds of Poco Drom.

The weekend was rounded up with a day spent with Talitha’s three and a half year old friend. We took the girls to Frankie and Benny’s for lunch over at Cribbs Causeway. We’d been sent a voucher to try out the new specials menu. Laurence had the gnocci and I the Philly Steak Sandwich. Both were tasty. The service was prompt and friendly. It’s such an easy place to take children. The girls had a grand time having balloons made. Talitha predictably had a cat but her friend wanted Spiderman.

Who knew a balloon animal could be the source of such delight?

Wall art at Frankie and Benny’s

Actually, this girl went on to spend the day touching frogs, collecting empty snail shells and climbing trees. It was so cool to see a little girl who was very definitely frogs and snails and puppy dog tails though she’s also a bit sugar and spice. It reminded me that I want to hang back and just let Talitha be whoever she’s going to be. It made me excited about this privilege of watching her grow up.

We spotted three frogs in our garden pond!

Disclosure: I was sent a voucher to use at Frankie and Benny’s for the purpose of trying their new specials menu and blogging about them. My views, as always, are mine – and honest too.

1. Someone cook. It’s more romantic that way. There’s a time for takeaway (usually when your fridge is empty and you’re too spent to string a sentence together, let alone make sense of what’s in your cupboards and freezer). However, there is also a time for getting your cook on. I’ve been working my way through The Great British Farmhouse Cookbook that Yeo Valley sent me. It’s full of beautiful photographs and recipes that seem both achievable and challenging. So, I decided to make Smoked bacon meatballs with pappardelle pasta (minus the pappardelle pasta because one of us decided to come to terms with his gluten intolerance). The meatballs and tomato sauce were possibly the tastiest thing I have ever cooked. Vegetarians, look away.

2. Don’t leave the kitchen a state. The sex appeal of a masterpiece in the diningroom is somewhat dimmed by a mess in the kitchen. I almost sound like my mother. Except I’m not sure that’s quite how she’d put it.

3. Set the scene. You may be drinking water, it may be but one course, but who says the occasion can’t call for wine glasses and candlelight?

4. Sort your face out. Change your top, add some lipstick, ditch your bedroom slippers, do whatever you need to do to feel like you’re actually on a date.

5. No lap land. Don’t tell yourself eating in front of the TV is dinner and a movie. Don’t do it!

6. Don’t just talk about the child. Self-explanatory.

7. The child must go to sleep easily and stay asleep through dinner. Doubly self-explanatory.

Over to you, any rules to add?

Just so you know: Yeo Valley sent me a copy of The Great British Farmhouse Cookbook. All my opinions are genuine. And some of you may also know that I’m a huge fan of theirs too.

Around about eighteen months, Talitha began to feel quite weighty in our ERGObaby Performance. I could still carry her in it but I began to look around for something suitable for heavier use. I know people who happily carry their three-year-olds in the Ergo but I suppose it’s a matter of personal preference and depends on how much you use it. I don’t drive and infrequently use a pushchair, so I considered my options.

Trawling babywearing groups on Facebook and the Natural Mamas forum for ideas on what I should try next. Many babywearers who carried toddlers raved about woven wraps. I expected this because I love the utter customisability of the way a wrap fits and I know how well their distribute the weight. However, I wanted something that could be used in a hurry and Laurence was flat-out not interested in wrapping. Those who loved buckled carriers recommended the Wompat, effusively. So, I went ahead and bought a preloved toddler Wompat with some money my parents gave me for Christmas. I’m so glad I did.

It’s a soft structured carrier made from a Girasol wrap with cord straps. I love the look and think it’s so pretty. Being that bit bigger, it secures her close to my body and fits knee to knee, which though not considered as important past a year, I’ve found improves my own comfort.

Also, it’s covered in magical sleepy dust. Talitha falls asleep in it all the time. If she has her arms out, I’ll either encourage her to put them in or I’ll tuck them in after she’s asleep. Once deeply asleep, I tie the sleep hood and we’re sorted. The cords for the sleep hood are very long so it’s easy to reach them. Laurence isn’t keen on the pixie-hood but I think it’s so cute!

He loves the Wompat, though. He’d been complaining a lot more than I had that she was getting heavy but now finds babywearing comfortable again. I’ve literally worn her for hours on my back with no trouble. Sometimes I leave her to nap there.

A couple of months ago, it was my saviour on a trip to London when she wanted to get in and out of it. As a buckled carrier, it’s relatively quick to put her in it and to adjust it, and there’s little room for error. I can certainly see there’s room for growth. We’ll be using it to the end of our babywearing days, I reckon.

I’m such a fan and people always stop me in the street to ask about the Wompat so I thought it was about time I blogged about it and shared the geekery here!

So, babywearers/toddlerwearers, what do you think? Like it, have one of your own, prefer something else?

It’s been a rough week with Talitha. Tantrums on her side, frustration on mine. It would be easy to say that she’s been defiant but, really, she’s just learning and exerting her independence. This is a good thing. After switching the TV on because I needed a break and crying on the sofa after I’ve put her to bed, I’ve come face to face with a big part of the problem. It’s not about her making me angry, it’s about the anger that already lives inside me. Frighteningly, I can see there is a lot of it.

I can respond with calm the first, second or even third time through sheer will but bring in the fourth conflict or tantrum and that peace needs to come from a deeper place that my determination. Toddlerhood doesn’t just bring out the best and worst in you. I’m learning that it has the potential to batter the worst out of you if you’ll let it. So I’m letting it. I’ve known for years that I have a problem with my temper. My daughter is finally giving the motivation to do something about it.

Here’s what I’m thinking so far…

1. Start from a place of calm
Talitha won’t let me put a nappy on her or have the potty anywhere near her so I slap my head in frustration while she looks on with amusement. I’m amazed at how easily this scenario has unravelled me. I could justify it – what about the carpets? – or I could look at what’s really happening. The carpets can be cleaned. In fact, they’ll be industrially cleaned when we move house soon. I’m being pulled apart not because what’s she’s doing is forceful but because I haven’t stored up inner resources to deal with this conflict.

I need to find moments in the day where I can refocus and rediscover peace. For me, this means meditation at naptime or after she’s down for the night. It also involves prayer before I go to sleep and while I do repetitive tasks like the dishes. God is the source of my peace so this is where my focus goes. Whatever you believe, I think all parents needs to find their source.

2. Plan ahead
As I said, I might hold on to my temper the first, second or third time but the fourth… So the question is, why am I setting us up to get into so many conflicts? It puts us in a position where neither of us can win. Surely it’s better to avoid them altogether. This came up last week in our ToddlerCalm workshop but looking back on the past week, it still bears exploring.

Planning ahead to avoid conflict involves tackling lifelong bad habits I’ve accrued. It means becoming organised, being proactive and being on time. It plays out in packing the bag and laying out clothes the night before, creating and following a reasonable cleaning rota, checking train times and leaving much more than enough time to get to the station. Basically, the more stressed I am, the more likely we are to get into a standoff.

3. Take a moment before reacting
I’ve rolled my eyes before at the whole “take a deep breath when you’re angry” tactic but I’m learning that people say it because it works. That the deep breath needs to be a full, soothing breath where you focus on filling your lungs with goodness and exhaling your rage. Otherwise, you can huff and call that the breath when you’re still left too angry. Sometimes I need to quickly go to the other room just so I can collect myself. It’s a moment to think about how to react in a loving and self-controlled way.

4. Fake it til you make it
Sometimes when I feel myself losing it and I’ve taken my moment to think about how I’m going to respond, I find I’m still too angry to parent gently. So, I’m learning to fake it. I pretend I’m at a toddler group surrounded by like-minded parents with gentle philosophies. Pride wouldn’t let me shout at her or be rough with her. It’s not the loftiest motivation but it’ll get me through this rough patch.

5. Look after yourself
She melts down and I know that most likely she’s tired. Yet, it often takes me longer to realise that I’m being short with her because I’m tired. Whatever I’m up late at night doing can wait, sleep can’t. I’ve learned that it doesn’t take much to restore me to a place where I can see the world with joy. I am parenting a toddler, for goodness’ sake. Everyone says this is a magical age because it really is! But if I don’t take the moment to look after myself, it all goes downhill. When she was a newborn, this involved not eating. Sometimes all it takes it putting on lipstick or bringing the guitar out and singing to her. Little things – that’s what I’m thinking about here.

6. Reflect
Finally, reflection is key. I do get it wrong. I reach the end of the day and I wonder if I’m a bad mother but I know the answer is more likely that I’m a tired mother, a stressed-out mother, a mother-in-training. The important thing is to learn from my mistakes and to learn from her. I work things out better when I write them down so I’ve actually started writing out what happened to try to figure out what was behind it in both of us and what I can do differently next time. It might sound simplistic but these things often aren’t as complicated as they seem.

I’m not saying it’s wrong to be angry. Sometimes, anger is appropriate. However, to lose our tempers is to lose control and I don’t think acting out of that ever means that behaving in a responsible way. It’s a tough one for me, figuring out how to feel what I’m feeling and yet master it.

Over to you, what do you do to keep your cool with your children?

A week ago, I was walking up and down our road looking for our black cat Hero. I was relieved that Monday is Talitha’s day at the childminder, dreading the worst. I even mapped out in my head what I’d do if I found her stiff, dead body: gloves, bag, phonecall to the vet. As it turned out, our tabby cat Bojangles led me to her. She’d been stuck in a neighbour’s garage and was meowing hysterically. She may have been there a couple of days. Personally, I think the experience, though traumatic, has done her some good. She’s long been aloof and only occasionally affectionate. Now she sits in my lap, appreciatively purring at my stroking.

What it’s made me realise is how much pets become a part of our families and how much sociable animals like dogs and cats benefit from family attention. So it warmed me to see this video by SSE showing their employees take a workday to volunteer with Greyhound Rescue Fife in a project called Community at Heart.

For more information about the campaign, please visit Community at Heart by SSE who sponsored this post.

I don’t often host guest posts on this blog, sponsored or not, as I’m quite careful that this space reflects the issues I’m thinking about. However, when eHarmony got in touch about writing a post on Christian dating, I was genuinely intrigued. I rubbed my hands together, thinking of what tough question I could ask them on the subject.

Laurence and I met through our quirky little church in Brighton when I was a student. I’ve since realised, though, that the nature of how we meet our prospective partners is changing. With more and more friends meeting – and marrying! – people they’ve met on the internet, I wondered whether eHarmony felt that online dating could offer Christians something the church doesn’t. Here’s what they said:

“There is a lot to consider when looking for love as a Christian. Finding the right person may be tougher than expected and nowadays there are plenty of ways to broaden your search. Here are some ways in which online dating is helping the Christian community.

Looking further than church

For a Christian, the temptation may be to stay close to home at the church you have known for years and try to meet someone that way. Churches can act as extensions of family, so it’s easy to think that if you stick it out, you’ll meet the perfect partner.

However, journeys are a huge part of Christian history and there’s no reason to believe that travelling further afield will hurt your chances.

Being a Christian is about making a commitment so meeting someone who shares your values is a necessity. Dating websites such as www.eharmony.co.uk offer the means to search for partners based on religious belief, thus ensuring that you meet someone you are comfortable with.

Image: ryan_polei

Connect with a range of people

If you know what you’re looking for from a life partner, then online dating can open up possibilities beyond the church. You can connect with people who share your life experiences, who want the same things from a relationship and who share your commitment to Christianity – but you’ll have the option of going on a few different dates before you make a commitment.

Christian dating websites are there to give you an opportunity to meet people from outside your church, connecting with Christians all over the country. You’ll have the chance to meet people you may not have been able to meet in everyday life and share your faith with someone who could be the one for you.

Look for the many happy examples

Internet dating for Christians is on the rise. Thousands of believers are now choosing to sign up in the hope of finding true love. Far from being a social taboo, internet dating is now seen as a reputable way to meet dates from all kinds of different backgrounds.

Christian couples are meeting online more and more often and sharing their success stories with those around them. If it worked for them, why not you?

In the world of relationships, online dating is simply another way to bring people together. Many Christians attend churches where there is little possibility of meeting a potential partner and they shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to look further afield. Dozens of wonderful relationships begin through online dating – why not start looking today?”

P.S. I’m curious, how did you meet your partner?

To give online dating a go, visit eHarmony who have sponsored this post.

I have actively resisted going to parenting courses, partly because most that I’ve come across have seemed at odds with my parenting philosophy. I find it weird when any list of techniques is universally applied to children by strangers who don’t know them. It’s the same reason I’m careful about what parenting books I read. My rule of thumb for any parenting advice I receive is to ask:

1. Is this coming from a place where the child’s feelings and experience are considered valuable?
2. Does this approach recognise that parents have to find their own answers?
3. Does what’s being said here acknowledge every child’s uniqueness?

Let me say it now: ToddlerCalm is a big fat “Yes” to all these questions. I wanted to go to one of their classes when Talitha was eighteen months and started having tantrums. All in all, she has quite a laid back personality but, like any toddler, she’s busily exploring. In that process, she’s experimenting with her independence and testing limits of everything from the law of gravity to how will mummy respond.

I’m very aware that if we’re not consciously reflecting on what we’re doing, we can become reactive in our parenting. We end up responding to normal toddler behaviour with learned habits that are so deeply ingrained they almost feel instinctive, even though they grate against our conscience. For me, this involves raising my voice unnecessarily and the urge to hit (which I have never acted upon).

In the culture that I grew up in, these were very normal disciplinary strategies. As an adult reflecting on these and other punishments I experienced or witnessed, something deep inside me rejects it all. There must be a way to help our toddlers grow into people who are physically, emotionally and socially healthy. And if there is, it’s neither controlling nor permissive.

So I do my reading around. I think my thoughts. I lay them on Laurence when we get the chance. But we’re parenting together. He has his own experiences and his own wisdom as Talitha’s father. The ToddlerCalm workshop gave us a chance to listen to ideas that made sense to us, then go away and work out what we believed and what it would look like.

We covered a bit about the way a toddler’s brain works and what’s developmentally happening for them. Did you know a toddler’s brain is twice as busy as ours? No wonder they sometimes have a meltdown! It was eye-opening and reassuring to hear that complex skills like true empathy, sharing, reason and manipulation are just not possible until they are much much older than we would have expected.

Every brand seems to need to work in its acronym so we smiled when we learned about the CRUCIAL™ (see that? trademarked and everything) points that can help us understand and work out how to respond to our toddler’s behaviour. This is what we got from each point:

Control – We want to find ways to help Talitha take some control by letting her play without dominating what she does or how she does things, and by giving her choices. Sling or holding hands, wellies or shoes, The Biggest Kiss or Mog the Forgetful Cat? It’s not always possible to give choices, but we can see how letting her take control some of the time can avoid frustration spilling over at other times. I think I’m pretty good at letting her play undirected but I do find myself asking her “What’s that called?”, “Can you say *insert word*?”, “What colour is it?” Thinking abou it – that can disrupt what she’s naturally doing.

Rhythm – I’m not naturally a routine person but I’ve learned to respect Talitha’s need for predictability. I try not to have too many days where we miss naps, though some are inevitable, and we both live to regret it if I don’t respect mealtimes! It was interesting to learn that for her, this rhythm is about her feeling safe and, again, in control.

Understanding – This is all about understanding what she’s capable of developmentally. Getting to grips with how her brain works made me realise again how important what we do with her now is, how damaging it can be for people to label small children as “naughty” and how illogical it is to “make” a toddler say sorry when they don’t fully know what it means.

Communication – This is perhaps the most important point for me. What is Talitha trying to tell me? How is she processing what I’m telling her? She has calmed considerably the more signs and language she’s had at her disposal and she always acts out on days when I spend too much time distracted with something else.

The issue I brought to the class at the start was: “She keeps doing the opposite of what I want her to do.” The teacher Jo asked me: “Do you tell her ‘No’ a lot?” In classic defensive and therefore unreflective mode I said: “No, I don’t think so.” But now that I’ve had time to come away and think some more about it. Yes, I do! I’m always telling her, “Don’t do this, don’t do that”, which is the same as saying, “No”. I really need to work on communicating more positively and simply. There’s definitely still a time for “No” but it’s probably doesn’t have come up as frequently as it does at the moment.

Individual – It is so easy to compare Talitha to other children her age and forget that they’re all different and all have their own stuff going on.

Avoidance – It’s key to work out areas where I can just adapt situations so we just don’t get into conflict. I’m already doing this by moving play dough time into rooms without carpet because I know she’ll just throw it on the floor. I had a lightbulb moment a couple of weeks ago that if I start the process of leaving the house much earlier than I thought I needed to, we could avoid the “get in the sling” conflict because she could walk for a while if she wanted to. Not every conflict can be avoided but what’s the point of actually courting it?

Love – This is about looking at how to communicate our unconditional love for our child. Ignoring and isolating them just does not do this. This is possibly the most challenging point because it’s at such odds with the way many of us were disciplined growing up. The great thing about this point is that it also takes our needs as parents into consideration by asking us to think about how we can create the space and time to (and I kind of cringe saying this but still!) love ourselves so we can parent calmly.

A lot of this I think we already instinctively knew and we were practising a lot of it naturally. Still, parenting gets more complicated as Talitha grows older and it’s been great taking the time to reflect and start a dialogue between Laurence and I about what we’re doing.

Mind you, we had an epic tantrum this morning and I still felt frustrated and a bit lost. To my surprise, though, I felt much better equipped to deal with it calmly and patiently just with all this fresh in my mind.

It goes without saying, I really recommend ToddlerCalm! We did our workshop with the bubbly, down-to-earth Jo Slator over at Yanley Court in Bristol. There are teachers all over the world though! China, Canada, United Arab Emirates! I’m so glad something this positive is spreading.

Photos: Laurence Jarrett-Kerr

The bathroom has always been the slightly forgotten room in the houses we’ve lived in. It’s all been very functional – line up the toiletries, keep the space reasonably clean, add a candle if we can be bothered. That’s because we’ve been renting and, well, if you like the rest of the house, you’re reasonably willing to put up with a bathroom that’s not all that. For a while.

After living in our current house for over two years, we’re really done with having a shower that often just trickles, a toilet that needs multiple flushes and having no sensible storage system. We’re also done with having decorative tiles and a fancy shower blind that are both dated and a nightmare to clean.

That’s not to say we’re not grateful for what we have. I mean, obviously, think about how many families don’t have life-saving access to clean, running water! So, yes, having a bathroom that isn’t “up to scratch” is not big deal.

However, our house move is looming. It shouldn’t be too long now. Part of the excitement is that we finally get to create a space we genuinely like and that we can hopefully welcome people into. We want it to be a real home not just to us but to others. And it would be kind of nice if that meant people didn’t need to flush three times every time they visit our loo.

So, totally using the house move as a chance to daydream about our ideal bathroom, this is what our checklist looks like:

- A powerful shower that basically massages your brains out
- A large mirror that doubles the space and triples the light
- Cabinets that keep clutter out of sight and support the radio out of little hands’ reach
- Accents of colour splashed throughout: a friendly flower, some merry bunting
- A bathtub the family can get lost in
- Bright, timeless tiles
- A large window overlooking either rolling countryside or a stunning cityscape
- Underfloor heating (I am so from a hot country!)
- And (since we’re dreaming) someone else to clean it all!
- P.S. (because we’re really dreaming) A guarantee that I’ll get to use the loo alone at least once a day

I’ve had so much fun thinking about our dream bathroom, I’ve made a pinboard of ideas. When better to pin than when you’re moving house?

Families spend so much time in bathrooms. Bathtime is practically sacred to the British bedtime routine! Potty learning turns them into libraries. Realistically, they’re even the romantic getaways of a lot of parents. We might as well make them comfortable places to be in!

This is my entry for the Tots100 and Bathshop321 competition.

She has a real thing at the moment about making sure “Talitha has one and mummy has one” of anything she’s enjoying. So, while it was killing that she wanted me to have a suckle of my own nipple, I realised that it meant she must love her “mummy milk”. She loves it enough that she thinks I should have in on it too. It got me thinking of the other ways she shows how pleasurable a thing she thinks this is.

She’s forever asking me to breastfeed stuffed animals, her dolly, babies in books, the cats (I, obviously, don’t honour the last request). When I recommend she breastfeed them herself (again, not the cats), mainly because I don’t have the childlike imagination not to feel silly holding a wooden crab to my breast, she lifts her shirt, positions whatever the object of affection is and beams at me with pride.

Of course, now that she can speak, this adds a whole new dimension to the experience. When she’s finished her wake up feed, she pulls my top down to cover my breasts, blowing kisses and saying, “Bye bye, milky” in much the same way that she would say, “Bye bye, Daddy.” At times, she even pops off mid feed to smile up at me and say “Yummy!” or “Nice!”

She can’t say the word “antibodies”. She doesn’t know what her growing brain needs. She doesn’t measure her breastfeeds against her solid food intake. Even if she did understand that myriad of health benefits of us continuing to breastfeed into toddlerhood, she’d probably just shrug.

As she gets older, more people ask me how old she is and how long I think we’ll continue for. It’s never asked with hostility. Usually people are just curious – they’ve not seen a toddler breastfeed before. I could say, “The World Health Organisation recommends breastfeeding to two and beyond” and that’s all well and good but, realistically, I’m not walking around wondering what guidelines need to be followed and what boxes need to be ticked.

Breastfeeding involves science but it’s an art too. In art, there is room for more abstract experiences. There is room for love. That’s hugely why we continue, because there’s no reason to stop when this is something we both love. Next time I’m asked when I think we’ll stop, it’s probably enough to just shrug and say, “When we’re ready.” Trust Talitha to make that her moment to start poking my breasts and saying “Milk, milk, milky!” We’re still working on the nursing manners.

Luckily, there are lots of alternatives when it comes to waving goodbye to wheat and gluten. They don’t necessarily have to be expensive either. We buy a 1kg bag of polenta (cornmeal) for £3 from the Caribbean food stores on Stapleton Road in Bristol. The stuff is so stodgy that you literally only need a little bit for just about anything you’re cooking so it can last for months.

I took a look around the internet for gluten-free chocolate cakes but everything got pricey and complicated. I just wasn’t willing to spend a long time on making my own birthday cake and money is tight. So I decided to freestyle and the result was so gorgeous I had to share it.

Gluten-free Polenta Chocolate Cake

Ingredients
16oz dark chocolate (I used silver spoon chocolate chips because they were cheapest in ASDA)
8oz Stork (you could use butter but this is what we had)
4 eggs
3/4 cups caster sugar
1/2 cup polenta

Method
Slowly melt the chocolate and Stork over a gentle heat, mixing continuously. When blended, leave to cool for a bit.
Whisk four eggs, pour the chocolate mix into the bowl and mix, mix, mix.
Add sugar and mix.
Fold in the polenta.
Pour into a prepped baking tin and bake at 150 degrees for 35-40mins
Keep an eye – when your toothpick or fork comes out clean, take it out and let it cool before carefully removing it from the tin. Polenta can make it crumbly.

The next time I make this I want to attempt to make it dairy-free and use low GI sugar alternatives too. If it works, I’ll come back to report.

It started with a search of puddles around Kings Weston House in north Bristol, suited up for the weather with British determination – in pursuit of natural childhood and all that.

Talitha’s Muddy Puddles suit is a size too big to make sure it lasts and I think it makes her look like the naughty child from Willie Wonka who eats the untested sweet, blows up like a giant blueberry and is taken away by Oompa Loompas to be juiced.

We had our first date in a couple of months, heading to The Rummer down by St Nicholas’ Market. It’s a classy cocktail bar, reportedly with the largest collection of spirits in Bristol or the South-West or the land or something. The atmosphere was chilled out (you have to pre-book, so it’s not the kind of place that gets jam packed) and the menu read like a who’s who of Caribbean countries. I settled on a “Lost in Plantation”, boasting touches from Trinidad (but of course!) and Barbados. Laurence went for an Old Fashioned aka one complicated drink.

Laurence had booked a table for dinner so, after our drink, we descended into the cave. It was quiet, intimate and dark enough to make it impossible for me to get a reasonable picture of him with the iPhone. I had rabbit for the first time and we shared the loveliest scallops I’ve ever had. I’m by no means a connoisseur though. A couple of glasses of red wine later and I had officially drunk more than I have in years.

Like students we took the night bus home. Unlike students, we resisted chips and headed home at the all too reasonable hour of not even midnight – actually, not even 11pm! Cuh-ray-zee.

We got to thinking, though, that we’d like to do this more often, especially as Talitha’s that bit older. It’s easy to get sucked into our own activities at night time, be that photo editing, reading, housework or, worse, television, and soon the week’s passed without much “quality time” spent. Go to bed, rinse and repeat. The proverbial “date night” wants reviving, as cheesy as that sounds.

For the actual birthday, I made a polenta and chocolate cake. We’re trying to eat gluten-free due to intolerance, which has led me to get creative about this stuff. This concoction is from my own head though. Jaw off the floor! I’m so proud of it, come back for the recipe tomorrow.

In that vein, Laurence got me a Magimix for my birthday. It’s a fancy food processor, in case you’re not familiar with it. Sexy. My dad calls it a “Barefoot and Pregnant” present. Actually, it’s something I’ve really wanted for a long time and is pretty much going to guarantee more food blogging round these parts so you’re welcome or so sorry, depending on how you feel about that.

To be honest, I’ve not thought much about my birthday. I wondered if it might be a touch of denial but I’m not really bothered about growing older. If anything, I see the benefit in it. What I say carries more weight and as time goes by, I learn to become more content with what we do or don’t have. I think my birthday went on the back burner because I’ve been so absorbed with what to do for Talitha’s second birthday. In fact, my turning twenty-seven just signifies to me that she’s turning two.

I took a moment last night to reflect on it all (while watching the World’s Biggest Snake on More 4 so not quite so lofty) and realised just how thankful I am for everything I’ve been given and how that motivates me to give more this year, whatever that translates into. Twenty-seven. So grown up. Almost thirty.