Clothes Maketh the Man, but Shoes Maketh the Woman!

Ah, Shoe Embassy!

Last week we had the joy of having our grandchildren for a half term sleepover. Whilst we don’t really need an excuse for such an event, the reason was that we’d promised our granddaughter a new pair of boots as a belated birthday present. I don’t know who was more excited, me or her. You see, I love shoes. I hazard that I am not alone in this amongst women. Men, not so much - my husband argues that you can only wear one pair at a time, so why would you need any more than that. Meh!

If as Mark Twain said, clothes ‘maketh the man’, then shoes definitely maketh the woman!

All the t-bars! (I'm strangling the cat!)

I feel as if my love of shoes has been with me all my life - I clearly remember lying about a pair of t-bar sandals when I was 10 years old. They were too small, excruciatingly painful to wear but unbelievably beautiful, so I convinced my mum that they were a perfect fit and suffered all summer. But my, were they beautiful!

As I progressed through my teenage years I would save my meagre wages from Saturday jobs to satisfy my need for the latest style and fashion - platforms, slingbacks, Dunlop green flash plimsolls, hippy dippy leather sandals! Never stilettos though - my centre of gravity didn’t suit them!

Comfy boots!

Probably because of my experience as that 10 year old, limping through a family holiday in Kent, I eschew uncomfortable shoes. Not for me having my little toe amputated so I can fit into the latest Manolo Blahniks. I’m more a Doc Marten, Clarks Originals or desert boot type of woman. I appreciate that many of my friends regard my shoes as ugly, but I love them for their stylish quirkiness!

Another pair of t-bars - on my beautiful daughter!

Footwear is perfect - it always fits, regardless of weight fluctuation, can lift an outfit to another level, and make you feel confident when you’re at your most unsure. My daughter and I bond over shoes on a regular basis, sharing links to our latest internet finds. We both own far too many pairs and yet still resort to our favourites, time and time again.

Nanny, I love them...

It was two years ago that we first took our granddaughter to buy footwear - again as a birthday gift. We had her measured in a specialist shop and asked them to bring out any shoes in her size. She tried on a few pairs, reluctantly looking in the mirror each time. Then she tried on the silver pair with the pink flower…When she finally stopped skipping around the shop she whispered in my ear, ‘Nanny, I love them!’ Sold. She knew exactly which ones she wanted, and was so happy. They were impractical, but completely beautiful and, unlike my t-bar sandals, fitted her perfect little feet too.

Two years on, she has even clearer ideas about what she likes. She always chooses her own outfits to wear, and prefers twirly dresses to jeans, and sparkly tights to leggings. In the first shop we went to, the long suffering assistant brought her many boots, none of which passed muster. Too ‘purply’ in one case! We drove 40 miles to the next nearest specialist shop where we repeated the process. She half liked one pair, then tried on THE pair. 

THE pair!

We were again treated to a dancing, twirling child. Not only did she love them, she professed the desire to sleep in them! I have also wanted to sleep with shoes in the past, so I didn’t find this at all odd!

So in this confusing, troubling world, be grateful if you are lucky enough to own, appreciate and enjoy shoes - they bring so much happiness to both big people and little people - mine say more about me than anything else I own. Apart from, of course, handbags…

Oh the joy!

The Point of Grandchildren!

Happy Christmas!

In the interest of reducing the amount of ‘stuff’ they seem to have accumulated, last Christmas we gifted my stepson and his family a trip to Legoland. This, of course, included us. It is, after all, the purpose of grandchildren - providing opportunities for old people to have fun!

So after months of waiting, this weekend saw the day finally dawn. My grand-daughter was, in her Mum’s words, ‘ridiculously excited’. So much so that, when she arrived she was completely overawed and spent the first hour or so sitting in her brother’s buggy! My grand-son spent that first hour sitting on his Dad’s shoulders saying, ‘I want to go to Legoland!’, completely oblivious to the fact that he was actually there!

Slowly but surely, with gentle encouragement (we didn't pick them both up and stick them on a ride, honestly) they came out of their shells and started to take in their surroundings. And what surroundings they were. At this point I should tell you that both my stepson and his wife are real Lego geeks, and were almost as ridiculously excited as the girlie, and would happily have spent much of their time in the shops looking at all the bricks! 

Amazing models

It’s a very long time since I have been to a big theme park - probably sixteen years - and I was quite anxious about the crowds, the queues, what to expect and all the other things that I contrive to worry about. But, it was fine - better than fine. The staff were all so friendly, and seemed genuinely interested in whether we were enjoying ourselves. I never once sensed gritted teeth in their enquiries! The park itself was lovely, well maintained, with the right balance of big rides, play areas and amazing Lego models to admire. The children started to explore, look around and express wishes to go on different rides. I did have ‘I don’t like it Nanny’ from the two year old on a whizzy roller coaster, but they coped and posed for a million photos to prove that they were there and enjoying themselves! Some of the queues were just too long, but, because we were there for two days we could move onto something less popular and know we could revisit the next day. 

Thank goodness for the pink flowers!

In truth, on the first day, both children enjoyed the freedom of the play areas, being able to explore at will. It was, however, at this point that I was left alone with both of them and had to decide which one to follow when they ran off in opposite directions! How did I ever cope with taking out groups of special needs children?! I opted for the two year old, but picking out a five year old from a million similarly dressed other five year olds caused me momentary panic! She was there - I just couldn't see her! Thank goodness for her sun hat with outrageously pink flowers on it!

Random Maclaren!

We enjoyed an overnight stay in a nearby hotel, which thrilled the children nearly as much as Legoland! Randomly there was a Formula 1 racing car in the foyer, and all those long corridors to run down! They only took out three suited business people in their excitement! The only stressful points of the trip were that my stepson got lost on the way to the hotel, and my grand-daughter threw up on the way back to Legoland the following morning! Another benefit of grandchildren - it wasn't in our car!

The second day was much more relaxed and less crowded. My grand-daughter suddenly seemed to see the point of it all and was much more adventurous, happily laughing her way around the raft ride while her brother tried to soak us!

Sometimes traditional is fun!

We went in a submarine and saw sharks, we went on spinny-round helicopters and any number of roundabouts. Their grand-dad and I embarrassed ourselves by going on a surf ride - the only adults on there without an accompanying small person! But we had such fun, and who cares!

You can't have too many Lego dogs!

While we were eating lunch, my grand-daughter watched people getting soaked on the log flume from the restaurant window. When we had finished, she said she wanted to go on it. So I took her. The queue was 50 minutes - the longest we’d waited for anything - but she was adamant. I must have asked her twenty times if she was sure - yes, she really was! I have to say that she waited so patiently and as we got closer to the front, other people were getting togged up in waterproof ponchos, which we did not have…and yet she was still sure she wanted to have a turn!

As we got into out ‘log’ I wrapped my legs around her and told her to hold on tight. Initially it was lovely - a gentle ride around the back of the park, with lots of Lego pirates to admire and then we got to the bit where they hoist you up above the crowds. The more I said I’d changed my mind, the more my brave five year old giggled, and when we were released down the slope into the water at the bottom, we both shrieked and laughed and swallowed / snorted bug infested water! 

I look terrified!

I can honestly say I can’t remember the last time I laughed so long and hard! I even bought key rings with the photo of us - one each! I’m hoping that, when I’m too decrepit to do things like that any more, she will always remember the day she got soaked with Nanny!

Not sure who enjoyed it the most! (Me, definitely me!)

We did loads in the two days, but the log flume is my stand out memory. Legoland was exciting, exhausting and huge fun, but spending two whole days in the company of family was what made it really special, and I’m sure that we will relive it many times by looking at the photos and videos again and again. You don't have to go to a theme park to appreciate time with your family, but sometimes a big trip like this serves to remind us how lucky we are and maybe makes us appreciate it a little bit more!

Time with family is precious

Greater than the Sum of its Parts...

US drama at its best!

I have been captivated by ‘This is Us’, a US drama, hidden away on Channel 4. It tells the story of a family and how their present is impacted on by events in the past. But ‘family’ is the thread that runs through it, making me laugh and cry, feel uplifted or sad.

It got me thinking about how our experiences as children directly affect us as adults. 

My parents lost their first child to leukaemia two years to the day before I was born. She was ten, and my parents never got over the loss of their much loved daughter.But their answer was to draw my sister, myself and my two brothers close to them, to protect us and make sure that we had the best possible childhood. We didn't have much money, never had a car or expensive holidays but we had time with our parents and created memories that have sustained us over the years. 

Glorious family memories

Both my parents came from big families, so we had any number of aunts, uncles and cousins within our extended family. Some were, naturally, closer than others but the family parties were legendary and we still talk about them today. We all grew up feeling valued, loved and believing that we were capable of anything. My parent’s legacy was four strong, independently thinking individuals, a direct result of our upbringing. Through good times and bad, we know we can always turn to one another when we need to.

Families today can sometimes be highly complicated, with divorce and separation much more common, and families joined together in different ways. My grand-daughter (or more accurately, my step-grand-daughter) has taken all of her five years to get her head around the different combinations of grandparents at her disposal, and hopefully will take on the burden of explaining it all to her little brother when he starts to ask about it!

When I thought about writing this post, my starting point was that families are akin to a jigsaw puzzle, a myriad of small pieces that fit together to make a singular image. But as I considered it further I realised that, if that were the case, families would never interlink and overlap, and these days they clearly do. I really feel that families are much more like a patchwork - individual pieces of fabric that are joined together, each dependent on one another, touching each other at different points and capable of growing exponentially. 

A never ending patchwork!

When I met my now husband our patchworks were separate and had grown independently of one another. Over time we worked to stitch them together into a whole. It wasn't easy, and we have had to do some unpicking and restitching over the years, but now we each love our step children as our own, and appreciate the richness and colour they each bring to the patchwork of our family lives. I like to think that they feel the same way about us.

My lovely, loony patchwork family!

Textiles need conservation and care - pieces of patchwork may fade and begin to disintegrate without efforts to preserve them. Although my parents are no longer with us, by talking about them and continuing with family traditions and rituals, by looking at photos and remembering their values, we keep them alive to us, and their fabric pieces shine bright - my mum’s would be a rose print, and my dad’s the serge of a St John’s Ambulance uniform. 

Some materials undoubtedly clash, needing careful positioning, and similarly, families can be hard work. However, in these changing times, their value should not be underestimated. It’s so important to work on keeping the connections of our families strong by constantly paying them attention, renewing the thread if needs be. 

Whether its a patchwork, a jigsaw or a family, the whole will always be greater than the sum of its parts, and its important to remember that a neglected or misused quilt will very quickly become a pile of useless rags.

Making a Connection - Cheap Thrill: #11

Making a connection!

Since my retirement, my hubby and I have been at odds, at various times, over the most ridiculous things. I have to admit that these times have been largely of my making, as I continue to come to terms with this massive change in my life.

However, regardless of how cross or agitated I feel, it all goes away the second he takes my hand in his. This simple gesture makes me feel loved, protected and cared for - not emotions that I have always experienced as an adult. If for any reason we can’t hold hands, there is a kind of ‘disconnect’ that troubles us both, and just feels weird. Equally, if I pull away from the gesture, he knows he is in big trouble!!

Holding hands is a basic human instinct - we are thrilled when our babies first clutch at our fingers, and whenever there is a perceived danger, you hear parents saying, ‘Hold my hand!’, implying that it will keep them safe. 

When I was at work, we spent considerable time and effort as the students got older, teaching them to link arms instead of holding hands. It is such an intimate gesture that, while we clearly needed to keep them safe, holding hands with a student in their teens just seems inappropriate and somehow wrong.

Such good friends!

This week we took my grand-daughter and my great niece out for the day. Although there is almost a three year age difference, they get on really well, and ran off together, holding hands. They didn't need to, but they just wanted to make that connection. And when they want to connect with me - they reach for my hand and it is the most wonderful feeling, when you take the time to appreciate it.

The best feeling...

So, this week’s Cheap Thrill is hand holding. We all do it, whether it's with one of our children or grandchildren, with our partners and loved ones, but take a moment to appreciate how it makes you feel - safe, loved, protected: joy, pure joy!

Bedtime Stories: Cheap Thrill #8

Love being a Nanny!

Yesterday was my grandson’s second birthday. Technically he’s my step-grandson, but he’s always known me as “Nanny”, so it doesn't matter one bit!

My step son and his family live about an hour’s drive away, which means that a casual ‘drop-in’ is not really practical, so we look forward to seeing them when we can.

Yesterday was especially exciting, as we got to see our granddaughter arrive home from school too. She only started ‘big school’ this term, and it was lovely to hear her talking so positively about her teacher even though she’d only done ‘things’ yesterday, apparently!

After the mandatory present opening, fish and chip supper, candle blowing and cake eating, it was time for bed.

Luckily for me, other nanny (Nonna) was chosen for bath time, (only lucky because it involved lots of poo, I think!) but I was asked if I would read the bedtime story. What an honour! 

A Christmas story? In September?

The book was solemnly chosen - Angelina’s Christmas (!) - and both the soon-to-be five year old and the newbie two year old sat next to me on the bed and listened while I read, looking at the pictures, and not noticing the slight editing of the ‘wordy’ bits. It was so lovely, and even though its only September, reading the Christmas tale together meant that we were sharing in a little bit of joint anticipation. 

I wonder how it ended?

Reading stories to children is one of the simplest ways of sharing experience and bonding. I recall that when I was a newly single parent, and my children were about 11 and 14, I started to read ‘My Friend Walter’ to them. They were too old to listen to their silly Mum reading to them really, but they subconsciously recognised my need to revisit a safer and happier time, and humoured me by laying on the bed listening to me. I think the TV series based on the book got ahead of my reading, and sadly, I don't think we ever finished it, but I do remember how close it made us all feel, and how it reinforced our belief that, somehow, everything would be alright.

So if you have children available to you (please don't steal any) then share a story with them - it really is one of life’s most joyous experiences!