The Birthday One

This weekend I had my birthday. Though I could not celebrate as I would have wished, my dear family went out of their way to ensure I had a great weekend. So a dreaded day turned out into a fun weekend. C and I enjoyed the sunny weather, we visited the bigger Rock, we got ice-cream in our hair and clothes, we laughed and giggled and had a good time :)

C is now a little talker. Yesterday she lined up her soft-toys and told me, ‘toys sleeping – schhhh’! She coughs and says ‘bless you’, she orders everyone to ‘sit down’ and ‘go bye-bye’ and insists on the ‘mirror, mirror’ whenever she puts her outfit on. She now recognizes and says the numbers out until ten, colours and animals are a favourite, and this weekend started calling out for her ‘uncle Edward’ and ‘auntie Ver’. She is growing into a little sweetheart x

We have paused playschool for now because the last two times she was in tears and telling me ‘door, bye-bye’ and needless to say she broke my heart, I conceded temporary defeat and for now she is with me again. But I will try again next week. Worst case-scenario I bring her back home with me like I had to do today week.

I hope your weekend was a great one! Summer is slowly approaching here and I still have to switch my winter clothes to summer ones – something I dread doing but can’t delay any longer. The wind does not seem to want to give us a break, and it’s been awfully windy lately, although today it seems to have stopped for a bit. Maybe we can go out for a walk without ending up in the midst of a dust-storm with teary eyes and sneezing.

In the meantime, here’s C’s favourite ‘move’ – throwing a balloon up in the air, running away from it and then going back for it. Bless x

Late-Night Baking!

Thanks to my KitchenAid, free evenings and lots of mouths to share my baking with, I am now baking at least 2-3 times a week. It’s much easier to bake when you know you do not have to eat the whole thing out of guilt plus the mixer is so easy to use and it does a perfect job. After the lemon drizzle cake I did on Wednesday, today I tried out Italian Almond Biscuits – or as they’re better known, Biskuttini.

They’re dead easy to make. Yes, a bit messy but nothing some flour and water won’t fix.

So go on, try them out!

You’ll need:

- 250g plain flour

- 1 tsp baking powder

- pinch of sale

- 150g caster sugar

- 2 beaten eggs

- finely grated rind of one orange

- 100g whole blanched almonds, lightly toasted.

- Preheat the oven to 180 Celcius and lightly dust a baking tray with flour.

- Sift the flour,baking powder and salt into a bowl. Add the sugar,e ggs and orange rind and mix to a dough. Knead in the almonds.

- Roll the dough into a ball, cut into half and roll out each portion into a log about 4 cm in diameter. Place the logs on the prepared baking tray and then bake in the preheated oven for 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and leave to cool for 5 minutes.

- Using a serrated knife, cut the logs into 1cm diagonal slices. Arrange the slices on the baking tray and return to the oven for 15 minutes or until slightly golden.

- Transfer onto a wire rack and leave to cool and go crisp.

And voila’!

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I may have let them in a tad more than necessary, so once they are lightly golden I suggest taking them out immediately! They might not need the full final 15 minutes.

A Smile and Some Giggles

A blog I follow, All Things Fabulous, recently put up a link to a beauty vlog on You Tube. I don’t really like vlogs mainly because the majority of times the people taking part in them look like D-list actors who take to the internet to market off their supposedly charming nature, and fail. Yet, I saw one video of this Jarmaine (JLovesMac) and I have to say I could not stop smiling! She has uploaded nearly 300 videos on You Tube, and is one of the most entertaining people I’ve seen there for ages! She has a straight and direct way of delivering her message and is refreshingly honest. She pokes fun at herself and says what she says in a totally unrehearsed manner. She mainly does makeup vlogs, but sometimes also tackles other issues. If like me you love (and desperately need) a good laugh, I suggest you check her out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0AjJSC1ghY&feature=share&list=UUeiunpfG3pQlnla6rvEicDQ

One Month P-M

It’s already been one month since we left England. With everything that’s happened it seems to feel we’ve been away much longer. We are constantly gasping for a breath, waiting for a short pause of calmness but it still has not happened. Everything has been thrown in our face and the one thing we did not want to happen, did. Things are far from what we imagined them to be and I have to be honest. I’m missing England terribly.

It’s a bit of everything.

Without me even realizing it, I had become accustomed to a certain way of living. I took lots of things for granted and am now being hit with the stark realization that I need to start thinking and acting otherwise. I’m not talking about physical things – what’s bothering me most is the fact that I’m feeling as if I need to change the way I’ve been living my life for these past three years and it’s not a comfortable feeling.

So if I meet you outside and you ask me how I’m getting used to life on The Rock, please don’t misunderstand my lost look for a flippant attitude. My inability to answer your question is because I truly feel lost. I truly do not know how I’m getting on with everything. And if I tell you that it’s harder than I thought it would be, please don’t think I’m being a drama queen about the whole situation. It truly is. Before informing me that it must be easier with family and friends around, let me tell you it’s not about that. It never was. It’s about leaving a life you knew and were comfortable with and starting afresh in a country you know and love, but suddenly feel uncomfortable in. It was our choice and I will stop myself short of saying it was a mistake because I still feel it was not that at all. I know things will become clearer and less shady.  I just need time, we all need time to (cue the magic word)… adjust.

You may think I’m babbling on and on about nothing, and I am probably not making as much sense of things as I’m feeling them, but I can not explain myself better than this. I just want things to start feeling as they did a short while ago. Which now seems like eons away.

Probably the most apt photo for this particular moment. Pregnant and not knowing it, I was an avalanche of moody behaviour. I was feeling everything. I'm not pregnant now, but the feelings of confusion and loss are there...

Probably the most apt photo for this particular moment. Pregnant and not knowing it, I was an avalanche of moody behaviour. I was feeling everything. I’m not pregnant now, but the feelings of confusion and loss are there…

Early Call

6am on a Saturday morning.

Door bell buzzes and through the intercom:

“Hello, we’re from the police squad. I’m here about your daughter’s jeep”.

“Erm, what?!”

(At this moment I shaked away my confused and sleepy state of being and reminded myself that my daughter is 22 months old, she was sleeping in bed and did not drive).

“Your daughter’s husband (ummm, okay, what??!!) owns a jeep doesn’t he?”

(I then realized what the policeman was talking about)

“I think it’s my sister-in-law’s husband you’re talking about. Did something happen?”

“Yes”.

(I here got very agitated. I must have been having a vivid and active dreams because all sorts of scenes were playing through my muzzled mind).

“What, what happened?”

“He needs to remove the jeep from where it’s parked because of Lejliet Lapsi*”.

Screw you policeman.

*Lejliet Lapsi is an annual three-day festival held in Victoria, Gozo where local traditions are celebrated, pop concerts are held, children have an actual area designed for them to play in and Gozo becomes a nightmare to live and park in.

Grey

What is so great about growing up?

Getting older has its’ perks. As they say, you grow into your own skin, you learn to accept yourself more, faults and all, and you find your path in life which you eventually realize and set forth into. You learn who your true friends are, you laugh off peer pressure, you become more appreciative and you become more grateful for the simple things in life. When you meet that special person you thank your lucky stars that s/he feels the same way about you, and when you become a parent you learn to love beyond anyone and anything in life.

But growing up sucks at times.

Living life and growing up, life becomes more complicated and you realize there exist a million shades of grey instead of the simple black and white you thought life was made up of. You live through tragedies that you never expected and which shatter you into pieces. An older you is faced with new worries everyday, and setting them aside does not make them go away. More responsibility equals more headaches and every decision you take is met with a multitude of questions and hypothesis. You may feel like a young teenager at heart, but your age is always there to remind you that you aren’t, not anymore. You realize that you can not get away with certain things like before, and you find out, sometimes painfully, that every action carries with it a reaction.

Why did we want to grow up when we were younger?

I look at Cesca and I am so curious to know what she thinks about, what her mind processes and takes in, what she feels is important to her and what she makes of people and events. We have all been lucky enough to enjoy childhood, the carefree lifestyle that does not go into the future or the past – the here and now is all that matters. Cesca plays for hours at end with plastic animals and blocks, she hides my makeup in my shoes and stashes things away underneath the sofa which only reappear when I’m cleaning. Her life is all about the present. ‘I want’, ‘now’, ‘go bye-bye’, ‘hungry’, ‘toys’ – those are her priorities. She is an innocent little girl. She is such a trusting baby, she loves cuddling and with one hug she’s your friend for life. She is explorative, trying on my necklaces and then going in front of the mirror, kissing her reflection and saying ‘how pretty’. She falls, she cries for a minute and she’s then back to her cheerful self. Nothing really seems to get to her. Life is all about toys, food and love.

If only life were to remain that way for her.

I’d give everything for it to do so. I’d give everything to keep her from getting hurt, from learning that life is not always rosey and peachey and from finding out that sometimes positive intentions don’t always yield good results.

But she will grow up and live her life and learn that life is not always what we want it to be. She will find out that she may plan one thing and get another totally different thing in return. She will learn that people are not all what they seem to be and trust is a delicate link. A very delicate one.

In the meantime I enjoy her innocence. I write these posts and take her pictures to remind me and her when she grows up, that it’s the simple things which make us happy. A loving family, good health and living life with a smile. The rest is too volatile, too shifty and too unreliable to lean upon and trust.

So I’m drinking in her smiles, her hugs, her kisses, her attempts at biting off my nose, her playing and laughing at my wiggling toes and her fascination with her belly-button and I’m loving it. I just wish she could remember this time now, her happiness at the moment and hold it close at heart to cherish forever, and to go back to these happy times when she’s older and life is not so perfect and smiles are scarce.

No, growing up is not so great. But finding happiness, realizing it and keeping positive is.

So I’m trying.

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Unfamiliar Ground

If you follow me on Instagram, you might have realized that today was not an easy day. In fact it was the sum total of a frustrating and anger-fuelled situation which I will not bother you with. Let us just say that The Move was not easy. No, not easy at all. And since I now suddenly some extra time on my hands, it’s about time I stop banging my head against the wall and start writing instead.

Following my last post, we went along with our gut instinct and started C at a play-school. As I expected I was nearly in tears dropping her off to join her new friends. She was a bit apprehensive at first, probably overwhelmed by the other ‘babies’ (her word not mine) in the room, and by the great number of toys suddenly available to her to play with. By the time I had talked to one of the carers present there, she was hard at play, not even looking out for me, and in no time at all I had sneaked out of the room, feeling I have to say rather dispensable.

The whole time C spent at the play-school, I was on edge. I was worrying, thinking way too much and on the verge of calling the school a dozen times. I was envisioning the worst – cries, screams, fights, blood, injuries…what can I say? I have a very vivid imagination. A was calming me down, assuring and reassuring me that she would be just fine. So when the time came to pick her up, he was proven right. She was just fine. She was playing with another girl and when I went in for her, she merely acknowledged my presence with a smile and continued playing. Only after a couple of minutes did I get a proper hug. I was told she only cried a bit when she realized I had left and was an excellent girl for the rest of the morning. I even got a yummy sponge cake with strawberry jam C made herself – you can see it here ;)

The carer told me that she played with other children, she was following them around the play-area and she even came back with new words – ‘shapes’, ‘triangle’ and ‘circle’! So after one session at play-school, I am not regretting our decision. It seems that slowly but definitely, we are on the correct road.

Of course the real test lies on her next play-school date. Whether she will enter willingly or kicking and screaming is another thing to be seen.

In the meantime I’ll try not to kick and scream myself.

Heads in the Sand

Next week we’re starting C at a play-school here on The Rock. She is now 22 months old and is still very indifferent to other children. She looks at them wearily and does not stay in other children’s company for more than a couple of minutes, preferring to move on and play on her own. We have no other young toddlers in our family and until she starts school next year, she will probably not get any further interaction from children her own age.

She has been registered already and I took her to the said play-school this week, just to see her reaction. There were a total of eight boys there, and she was the only female. She stood holding my hand for the first couple of minutes, studying her surroundings and looking at the other children with a curious eye. Then she saw the swing and the deed was done. She loves swings, and we cannot pass by a playing-field without having her pull us towards it, telling us ‘swings, see-saw – go!’ So she sat on the swing gently swinging herself, when two young boys came forward and started pushing her to and fro, all the while C was sitting down basking in the attention. We stayed for a couple of minutes, and of course as expected, we left with tears and cries. Only a promise to the nearby playing-field did the trick of silencing her.

As we had anticipated, our news was meant with some silent and other not-so-silent signs of dissent. Our decision to start her at play-school was only taken after realizing how cut off from other children C is. The fact that I’m not currently working seems to baffle some when I tell them about it, because the way of reasoning here seems to be if the mother is not working, then the child should stay with her, and the mother should have no business of ‘dispensing’ of her motherly duties to take care of her child. My conscience is at ease and my mind is at rest that C will not feel traumatized that her parents sent her to a new place to meet and play with other children for a couple of hours a week, and any time she gets to spend there will only help her develop into a friendlier toddler. It’s not as if this play-school is tough work for toddlers – their itinerary is a child’s idea of heaven – outdoor playing, crafts, DVD-time, costume-dressing, nap-time, new toys to discover and play with…I’m sure C will not be angry at us for this decision.

 

So we’re digging our heads into the sand and going with our gut feeling. It has always worked for us before. Be it a week or be it a month, play-school can only do C  good.

The only thing that is worrying me is how I will react when I drop her off and head off home, with a couple of hours without my baby and free time suddenly on my hands!

She's adapting very well, her vocabulary has suddenly taken off at a super-sonic rate and she's becoming messier and messier when it comes to dinner-time :)

She’s adapting very well to the move, her vocabulary has suddenly taken off at a super-sonic rate and she’s becoming messier and messier when it comes to dinner-time :)

 

The Drive

We took too many photos to pick a few and paste them here. So here’s a link for the best ones (in my opinion – my photo-finnicky husband may disagree). It was as fun as it looked!

Our route:

Canterbury – Calais – Nancy – Lugano – Milan – Genoa – Palermo – Modica – Pozzallo – Malta

Apart from missing C so much, it was fantastic!

So here’s the link :)

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151883010507782.1073741828.835747781&type=1&l=7751e904b9

A Long One Coming…

We are here! It’s  been nearly a week since we landed in Malta, this time with no planned return to England. It’s been a tough week, every little thing seems to be playing up a bit and we’ve already used the ‘To-Be-Back-In-England…’-Card a couple of times. I am keen on being immensely optimistic and am constantly envisioning the legendary full-cup instead of a parch-dry one we’re dealing with at times. I am trying to be cheerful when I feel like banging my head against the wall when faced with certain situations. Within 24 hours of arriving, our internet was working in intervals, my mobile suddenly stopped, the iPad’s screen changed colour – anyways, suffice it to say that life’s forces seem keen on testing our nerves.

Leaving England was a million times worse than I ever thought it would be. The goodbye to my dear friends that I wanted to avoid at all costs, happened and we all ended up keen on getting drunk, crying and with running mascara. Closing the doors to our house (ex-house…) was heart-breaking and we left with so many memories of that place. Even talking about it now chokes me up, and I will never think about England again without a thankful heart and a lifetime of gratitude.

Reuniting with C was perfect. I wish I could say that we had a film-like moment when we saw eachother from across the room and she came running into our arms. Alas, all we got was a look, a millisecond of confusion in her eyes and then back to cuddling nanna. Then came a couple of days of following us around all the time, some tears came as well, and now it seems as she’s finally coming round to this new way of living. Of not being in the same couple of rooms for days at end, and suddenly meeting her family so much more often and for long periods of time. She’s a ray of sunshine and her smile and cheerful nature are contagious.

Her smile pushes us forward during trying times.

We’ve had good times. I’ve already met some of my friends for a quick coffee and chat, we met up with other mummies for a charity walk, and the sense of familiarity with everything is as comforting at times as it is suffocating at others.

But I’m focusing on the positive, on the here and now. We’re telling ourselves time and time again that any change needs a period of adjustment which is not easy. And I guess this is ours.

So in the meantime we’ve unpacked our car (it’s amazing how much a sports car can hold!!), our boxes have arrived in Malta (it seems they’re taking their time to get to Gozo!) and our home is becoming more and more cozy and ‘us’. We have dinner dates with friends planned out and are living each day as it comes.

And adjusting. There’s more and more of that to come…

Following Diego and Dora around!

Following Diego and Dora around!