Here’s the view from the panel, it’s a full house and a few familiar faces are here.

I’m on the panel with Sian To @Mummytips, Liz Scarff, and in the photo below are Sacha Anthony and Gareth Jenkins from Save the Children who are engaging with the attendees and showcasing some great NGO work which has been done across the blogosphere for many other causes which are emotive and topical.

In this world of abridged classics and dumbed down literature, it takes more than a deep breath to launch into Shakespeare, and an even bigger one for King Lear, especially when it’s an outing for a 10 year old.

We rocked up to The Roundhouse in Camden last Saturday for a three and a half hour performance by the RSC – we were packed full of high anticipation and no idea what to really expect. We’ve seen just about every musical going but had yet to experience Shakespeare, let alone a tragedy.

I’m not ashamed to say I had reserverations. Last time I visited the venue it was for a Grace Jones gig, how on earth were they going to make it worthy of the RSC?

As we arrived, I heard some great gasps of awe, and we hadn’t even gone inside;
‘Mum – this place is amazing!’
‘Oh blimey, we’re not even in there yet.’ I thought.
‘It’s great isn’t it?’ I replied as we waltzed in. I looked around, there were no other kids,
‘Eek!’
‘What?’
‘Let’s get some snacks..’
‘Mum, there aren’t any other kids here?’
‘I know.’
‘That’s cool’
‘I (ahem) know….yes, that’s cool.’

We grabbed what sustenance we could from the bar and went to take our seats. The interior was unrecognisable from my last visit, and if I’m not mistaken, a modernist reconstruction of The Globe. It made the experience even more intense to walk around the periphery of the pop up theatre and find our level, row and seats and, then discover the whole setting. The minimal stage set was intriguing, transluscent clouds of dry ice wafted across the space. We took our seats, rather worryingly in the front row since we were prewarned about gloopy things and water coming into the audience and didn’t have waterproof clothing on. Eerie music played and a bright light shone from the upper reaches of the set through cracked windows. You can hear the sound track on this short clip released by the RSC.

As we waited an actor walked on stage, and seating himself against a wall, he waited too – he was Edgar, the disinherited son of Gloucester. We were quite scared by the atmospheric setting, a good start in my book. The first scene began, courtiers took the stage and then King Lear, on the cusp of his descent into madness, arrived. This was serious heavy theatre with the potential to fall into parody – the challenge of the cast was to hold our attention and draw us in and it didn’t take long.

As Lear began to question the depth of love from his daughters, I began to question my wisdom – was this going to be a little bit too much? The costumes were stunning but would the acting hold up? I’d read a not so flattering review of the production in The Standard, but didn’t take it to heart, but let’s face it, no one likes to see a turkey. Theatre is a big commitment of time and money and a great experience is not always the outcome.

We waited for the characters to unfold the drama, and as Regan and Goneril waxed lyrical, and Cordelia became outcast, the story began to roll out its glorious tragedy against an austere backdrop – I looked to my side to see a little face in thrall to the drama, and much to my amazement, she knew who everyone was… The cast was quite jawdropping, Regan, played by Katie Stephens and seen here with Geoffrey Freshwater as Gloucester, were our two favourites.

Admittedly, as the interval drew near, the flowery and dated language was a little much to bear but the plot was strikingly clear and the players were part and parcel of bring its complexity to life. I was grateful the prose had not been updated, it struck a chord with the both of us and stretched us beyond our usual limits. We had plenty of time to review the players while taking in the quality of acting and the delivery of the lines. While someone beside us fell asleep, the rest of us were rapt. Not only was the cast multicultural, but the costumes veered from Medieval to Second World War regalia, and this played very well into the cross currents of the plot; loyalty, love, legitimacy, war and lunacy, in no particular order. Our imaginations were not just powered by the production but also by its history and how this story has survived for centuries.

When we reprised our seats for the second half, we were both agog. Eyeballs were extracted and sutured, a dynasty destroyed and its future tragically curtailed through dastardly deception. And that is King Lear, the much maligned Shakespearian tragedy that is often consigned to the bottom of the pile when it comes to experiencing The Bard. It was a great experience and I feel that we have seen a production of great note; whatever your age, it’s a great thing to see and it won’t disappoint, or leave you.

On a lighter note, when I pointed out to my daughter the wonderful emerald dress that Cordelia wore in her last scene, I was told in a rather exaggerated stage whisper:

‘She looks like Fiona from Shrek‘

Well, that puts it all into perspective when it comes to high drama doesn’t it!

So the cultural aspiration in our household for 2011 gets a big tick and so does the production. My misgivings about the complexity of the production have been put aside as it’s been a cultural experience that we’ll never forget.

And what’s next? We’re doing a bit pop culture and going to see Gnomeo and Juliet, followed by As You Like it starring David Tennant and Catherine Tate – it’s all in the mix isn’t it?

One thing’s for sure, Shakespeare never dies.

The production moves to Stratford, the New York soon and tickets are available here, it’s unmissable and worth every penny.

This ‘idea’ I have had, for some time actually, is to buy an old printers tray and repurpose it. Having searched on eBay and online, I knew the only way I’d find one was to head East – to the land of all things forgotten and retro – Spitalfields Market.

I have a particular love of Spitalfields and as much as it has changed over the last few years, the old spirit is still there. It’s great for thrifting as well. There are oodles of vintage clothes shops on Brick Lane but if you want homewares, this is the place.

I love the untold stories of the bric-a-bric which is there on Thursday and Sunday. Why does that man have his head in a glass?

And the visual jokes are pretty good too, so it’s hard not to walk around drinking in the colourful scenery with a big smile on your face. I always love talking to the people who own the stalls as well and I love their individual style. I have loads of old books I’ve bought there and some of the furniture is amazing – the prices are not too bad either.

On my journey round, I knew I’d find a printers’ tray. And I did. Check out this lovely. I got it for £15 – much cheaper than I had imagined.

And how am I going to change it? I’m going to paint it white and use it as a shelf. It’s no easy task as I’ve got to clean it up first. I’m painting it with stain blocker and then using two special brushes to get into all the nooks and crannies will paint it white. It would probably be lovely as it is in a kitchen for a spice tray but this is actually a very practical solution for all the nick nacks my daughter has scattered in her room and they’ll look fab in their own little shelflets. Two brushes and two paint pots have cost just under £20 so a bargain to boot.

I’ll post the results when I’m done.

We had our Summer street party a couple of weekends ago and it was a brilliantly organised day with everyone mucking in to make it happen. As someone who is more at home at the Notting Hill Carnival, I wasn’t sure what to expect; we had a great day and a packed agenda, which you can see scrawled on the white board below.

There was an unashamedly retro feel to the day, much in evidence with Audrey’s tea rooms and bunting all around, and it all felt very British.

I added some Mackerel to the bbq and a twist of Britishness to the marinade with these little flags.

We also brought a Pinata for the kids to bash to pieces and there was a great game of egg throwing which went on for some time, much to my amusement. Some kids couldn’t take the pace so there were a few tears when the eggs dropped but other than that it was hilarious.

The kitchens were all busy preparing a sitdown meal for a hundred or so of us at 7pm and it was amazing. Just look at these gorgeous salads. The tables and chairs were all borrowed from local schools and we paid £10 for the party fund.

The road was cordoned off so the kids could run around freely. The local fire brigade popped by to do a demo which I missed as I’d popped inside to finish off a salad, Miniminx told me about a week later that she’d washed down the street with the firehose. Little Britain? Yeah, I know!

They have been pretty much invisible until the last week or so and now they’re very much part of the landscape. They live right at the back of the garden under the shed and have dug out so much earth that I fear it may collapse but I don’t really want to disturb them.

These rather grubby fox cubs usually get up at 8am or so and have a stretch out in the sunshine before having a bit of a lark about and then making their way out of our garden and into the neighbourhood to forage or do whatever they do.

We have four little babies and one of the fox cubs has got a name. Cotton Bud – can you see the one on the right in the photo below, with the white hare-like tail?

And as you can see from this photo, Cotton Bud is a bit of a joker. He here is taking a chunk out of his sibling.

This whole experience has brought out Miniminx’s entrepreneurial spirit in a much bigger way than I’d expected. While I’m hightailing it around the house and imagining myself as an award winning wildlife photographer, she has entirely different plans.

‘Look – there’s a fox climbing on the back fence – quick – let me get my camera’ I spluttered yesterday morning as I tried to gulp down my essential morning cuppa.
‘Awwwwwwwwwwwww, they’re soooooooo cute Mummy.’
‘Quick come upstairs so we can get a better view.’
We both clamber upstairs and gawp out of the window.

More cooing from Miniminx while I try unsuccessfully to snap away and only get blurry images.
‘It’s a zoo out there darling – isn’t it amazing?’
‘Mummy! I’ve got the greatest idea.’
‘What darling?’
‘We can open a zoo and charge people £1 to come and look at the foxes’
‘Ummm…ahem…shhh, I need to focus.’
‘No, actually, £1 per fox…then we can make a lot of money…’

Ermm, so anyway, if you want to see them, it’s £4 a ticket and cash only….don’t blame me!

Linda Jones at havealovelytime asked me for my views on her recent article Travel PR meets Parent Blogger – How to do it Properly. Linda is someone I have great respect for her. Not only is she prolific and an all round good egg, she has amazing insights and vision. Her blog gotyourhandsfull set up for twins has been a valued resource for a friend of mine who is Mother to twins. Havealovelytime is a great resource for the family traveller. To be honest, it’s probably one of the only community of shared experience about travel and days out for families, by families. That’s why during my work at lastminute.com running it’s social media efforts, I recognised the great work she was doing and named the blog in two lists, the Top 10 Travel Blogs and also the OYLB Top 50 travel and lifestyle blogs.

Which brings me on to my response to Linda’s post. If you’re a blogger there are some things you should know about how brands view you…and not just in travel either. Your blog can make for a rich and rewarding experience through the communities you engage with which will without any doubt include brands.

And what makes me so qualified to write this post? I’ve been a corporate blogger for over four years and a parenting and lifestyle blogger for nearly two. My advice is for bloggers who are finding themselves approached by brands, pr agencies, digital agencies and advertising agencies who are all trying to get a piece of this new blogging bubble.

First and foremost
If you’re a blogger with a PR and journalism past, you will certainly understand the migration of media away from the traditional print medium towards social media. If not, well I think you’ll be learning pretty quickly that you are in demand, and here’s why

1. It’s all about you baby!
And why are you so popular? Brands are on the look out for UGC / CGM (user generated content / consumer generated content) in blogs. This could be; reviews, news, praise, rants or a personal story and it does not have to be orchestrated, negotiated, planned or placed. If there is a link back to the brand site or product mention this will help with SEO (how high they appear on the page on google) for the brand which is great for them and affiliates the two of you, giving them credibility. If the company is using a monitoring tool such as Radian6 they will find your post or tweet and be able to compile it with others to find out the public opinion and calculate sentiment. What does this mean for a blogger? You’re opinion will be analysed. Sounds weird doesn’t it? Maybe a bit Big Brotherish (in the true Orwellian sense)? Don’t be put off. It’s massively democratic – if you put your opinion out there in the public domain, it is being listened to and smart companies are using their ears to learn and hone their offerings. If you’re unhappy about a product or have an issue, you might even get a response from the company and your problem resolved. As many parent bloggers know and others who write about fashion, beauty, travel – you can also get to build strong relationships with brands which are mutually beneficial.

Your blog + postive brand mention = authority and credibility for brand

2. Why is blogging so popular all of a sudden?
Blogging is very powerful and wikipedia is a good source of info on the varying trends if you want to know you knitting. Since the arrival of the internet into the mainstream, the last 10 years or so has seen a paradigm shift in the media and not just from print into online. Traditional journalism has been eroded by brand power and people power – both are putting out content in the new realm of social media. News is broken on twitter by people not journalists any longer so what does this mean for the corporate bod? They’re lonely as they don’t have many journalists left to talk to and they still need to create buzz around their brands.

PR – journalism = no press coverage
PR + social media = online coverage

3. Why brands want to work with bloggers
If you are a travel company, Linda has listed several in her article, it’s a difficult sell to put your product in 40-50 words on a website and add a thumbnail. Getting bloggers to experience and review product or holidays gives meaningful feature length content and opens the door to conversation.

Blog + brand product/experience = meaningful content

4. If brands are getting it wrong – you can do them a favour, point it out
The thing is, a lot of brands are terrified of social media and that’s why they’re getting things slightly off key at times.

Have you had an email from a PR company asking ‘when to expect coverage’? or from a marketing person saying ‘I need your decision today’. These are the questions that PR and media people ask on behalf of clients as they harvest their crop of media coverage or bums on seats for an event. At work, I constantly have to remind people inside companies that bloggers have different sensibilities; they write about niche interests and usually out of hours and the usual rules don’t apply – so they need to be patient, understanding and show they care. In fact, I would say 20% of a social media role is actually an emotional, yet professional, investment into your work. On this blog, I am on the receiving end of invites and offers for trips, products to review, news and events. I feel well within my right to explain where I stand to brands or media companies; if I am not going to write about something, I will tell them why. If they want to me to come to events, I have baggage. I’ve recently explained to a PR agency that unless they can arrange my transport to an event I can’t go because of the time pressure of the school run. They have booked me a taxi and now we’re both happy. Other brands run evening events in town; they forget the obvious; Mummy bloggers don’t live in London and have kids to put to bed. The conversations which we have with our blogging communities must continue into the relationships we build with brands to make them mutually beneficial.

Blogger = opinion
Blogger + feedback = change

5. So what to do if you are approached by about your blog?
If you are a blogger, and you’ve never worked with PR, marketing and advertising agencies or even big global or domestic brands like Disney and Butlins, you may feel wowed that you are receiving attention. It’s great isn’t it? But it’s a two way street, you are valuable because you have set yourself up as an independent blogger with a point of view. You may also experience the rabbit in headlights effect too and feel overwhelmed or even pressured into committing to something. Do make sure you ask questions; why are you inviting me? what are you expecting me to do? do you want time commitment? are you giving me product? are you offering to pay for a post? A good social media expert will set all of these things out for you but if they have not do not be afraid to answer questions. It is in both of your interests to make this work if you are interested in the brand.

Blogger + social media expert = conversation

6. What to do about unwelcome attention
As Linda and many other bloggers have stated, bloggers are often on the receiving end of unwanted, mismatched, irrelevant and untimely promotional material. As time goes by, agencies compile lists of bloggers which they rely on to blast out news. It’s important that you respond and tell them you want to be removed off that list or better still, tell them what you are interested in. Often the only way to reach a blogger is by a comment on their blog, an email or a tweet – how do they know what’s going on in your head? Of course, great social media experts will read your blog but an intern sending a press release out to 50 journalists and 100 bloggers will not take such care. Help try and change this it before it becomes common practice.

Blogger + feedback to agency = progress

If you have any comments or questions, do feel free to ask me here or on twitter @nixdminx

Being a bit of a socialista and girl about town (especially when my daughter is away) I want to make my weekends as fun and grown up as possible. My idea of a great Saturday afternoon is certainly not a) sitting in the pub b) doing the ironing c) any other form of housework. So it was no wonder the temptation of afternoon tea at the Langham Hotel with the lovely Handpickedmedia bloggers community and the beauty brand Biotherm led me like to bee to a honeypot last Saturday.

Just get a load of these gorgeous cupcakes – they look mouthwateringly gorgeous don’t they? So before I prove my point and tell you how they can shrink your butt, there’s a bit more.

There must have been just about every beauty blogger in London crammed into the very stylish tearoom to natter over cakes and cucumber sandwiches and some lovely ladies from Biotherm on hand to talk about their new product ranges.

Novelty seeker that I am, I had this groovy little gadget zapped on my face to measure hydration, oil and elasticity. I knew I would be a little bit dehydrated after a few too many bellinis the night before so I was very pleased to find that my skin was actually quite good – phew. I’m going to be drinking more water and trying out the Biotherm Source Therapie 7. The serum is light and easily absorbed and worn under normal skincare, which means I can still keep my spf moisturiser on the go while making my skin much better.

However, as I looked around the room at all the hero products on the new ranges on their little white pedestals, I was keen to see what the new innovations would be. What caught my eye though was this Biotherm Celluli Laser cream. And yes, it promises to smooth the skin and is also an anticellulite cream.

You need to use it for one month morning and night and apply it from the ankles up to the waistline. It smells exotic and contains caffeine, menthol, camphor and salicylic acid plus ginseng and biloba. On first application, I was expecting to be glooped but the serum-like gel dries quickly and the tingling sensations do last a while. It’s very pleasant in fact and in the morning is a great energiser, I did use it in the evening before bed and already found my skin feeling smoother. I’m going to go the whole month on this one.

And that’s how cupcakes can smooth your behind non? Just book yourself in for afternoon tea with Biotherm.

Thanks Stephanie for the samples and I hope you got back to Devon in a flash! And I’ll be seeing the rest of the Handpickedmedia bunch at next week’s meet up.

Sorry for the bad joke but I just couldn’t help repeating it all day long. It’s just a mask for the fact that I’ve been having kittens about being stuck abroad and have had to keep my pecker up for the last few days and make it all seem like fun for my daughter. Actually, scrub that, it’s been an adventure of great magnitude and instead of coming home feeling a bit sad the holiday is over, we’ve both experienced a huge rush of appreciation for all things domestic, friendly and well, just our own doorstep.

Having told the world and his wife that we were delayed and unable to return from our holiday until next Monday, instead of last, things took a drastic turn for the better when the flights to the UK were announced again.

It would be an understatement to say that we’ve been in a state of crazed delirium for the last 24 hours. Having swapped Cote D’azur for a far chiller London W4, it feels brilliant and a bit lunatic.

I don’t know what it is about the human spirit but it has a homing device that propels the heart and mind in tandem towards reaching that destination against all odds, just to be there.

Last night after Miniminx and I had skyped,tweeted, texted and called everyone we possibly could from our French outpost, we found out before going to sleep that the skies over the UK were reopening. I did a celebration dance and downed another glass of wine then spent the night sleeping very badly as my daughter did her usual holiday prank; shrieking with laughter in her sleep throughout the night. It was all good, we could travel and get back home, lack of sleep permitting.

Not to be outdone by the general somnambulent squawking and whimpering, it was my turn to wake up with a fire in my belly at 5.50am and skittle around the room turning lights on and off, before settling at my laptop screen for some airline ticket motivated search action – I was determined to get us home.

As I flicked between tabs and screens and the abundance or search items, the flights were all coming up fully booked, and every few minutes there would be a change, prices would wobble, new airlines would be appearing, it all seemed a bit crazy.

‘Psssssssst, darling, do you want to go home this morning?’
‘Yeszzzzzzzz, but ….Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz I just need sleeeeeeeeeeep. Let’s go later.’

I was tempted to go back to sleep myself but I couldn’t. I was mad awake. Just the thought of being away from home with no good reason for a day longer was driving me a bit loopy. I let her sleep, and kept refreshing the flight screen. Two flights – oh no, gone already. Another one, at £1500. Another £386 with one stopover. Then after another 20 minutes, bingo. The 9.30am flight out of Nice, after the fourteenth try, had availability.

‘Wake up – we’re leaving in … oh quick, in 15 minutes, we have a flight to catch. Brush teeth, get dressed, close suitcase, do a room sweep*’

It was 20 minutes actually, but in that time I had to call reception to prepare the bill, shower, pack (yes for two) and dress and panic, oh and buy the tickets. The merry dance began and within 15 minutes we were out of the room and finalising the hotel bill and leaving, not before drinking a massively strong coffee. Our taxi arrived and I prattled on in French to the driver. It turned out his wife was stuck in Frankfurt, unable to return. Everyone had a story about some loved on somewhere, our waitress at breakfast had a boyfriend stuck in Thailand.

Determination and sheer bloody mindedness are one thing, but navigating the nuances of local traffic are another thing altogether. Needless to say as we lurched through the early morning traffic, 7.45am is never a good time anywhere, there was still a chance we would miss the check in period so it was all a bit touch and go. We arrived at 8.20 and had to go to the ATM to get the cab fare then to the check in desk, we had 8 minutes to spare. We got through the whole process, very smoothly in fact and boarded.

The flight was amazing, we arrived 30 minutes early and got back across town in good time. Arriving home was perfect – the sun was shining and London is full of Spring blooms. We are very very happy to be back.

So home and back to the grindstone it maybe but the simple pleasure of cooking an evening meal and having neighbours pop over to say hello is just the bees knees.

I’d always believed the old adage that travel broadens the mind, but it also emboldens the home loving heart much more than I imagined or remembered.
I wonder how long it will last?

*a room sweep is what I do after packing, moving around the hotel suite with military precision to check cupboards, wardrobes, shelves and drawers and underbeds for anything and everything I might have left lying about

My Mother always said I was like a lemming (I never quite understood that malapropism) but in her eyes, I was the loyal offspring with the homing instinct who would always turn up whatever. And I always did and I suppose always will. Because today I just had to be there, where she lived and immersed in that place where she spent her last years.

For weeks, the Mothers’ Day hype has been built up around us – card shops, chocolate shops, supermarkets, commercial emails, it’s unavoidable – it is absolutely huge.

We mourn the loss of our own lifegivers daily, but on this day of the year it could not be more poignant, especially when other families appear so complete. I feel very deeply for my friends who have recently been bereaved, for the first year without your Mother is definitely the worst. But does it ever go away? After five years, I would say not. Every year, the hurt is a little softer but the bombardment of commercial messages is unbearable. It highlights the absence of someone you love so cruelly.

I’ve had countless emails about how to ‘Spoil your Mum rotten’ or ‘Treat Her’ or ‘Discount Flowers’ or ‘Make sure it’s chocolates’. There are times when I have wanted to stand up and scream out loud:

‘MY MOTHER IS DEAD!
JUST LEAVE ME ALONE CAN’T YOU?
DO YOU THINK I NEED REMINDING ABOUT MOTHERS’ DAY??!!
GIVE ME A BREAK PLEASE….ISN’T THERE AN OPT OUT CLAUSE TO SAY I DON’T WANT EMAILS ABOUT THIS DAY???’

But of course, I haven’t, well not publicly anyway.

My Mother retired to a seaside town and took my autistic brother with her. Life was slower, more lenient on the vulnerable, plus the sea and fish and chips was very seductive to someone in her twilight years.

It seemed right that this year we would celebrate Mothers’ Day there. I don’t know what I was expecting. Shepherding a 10 year old around and a blind autistic adult is humbling to say the least but we made the most of it and had a brilliant meal on Saturday night at a great Italian restaurant near my brother’s house.

Then it was the day. Mothers’ Day. The day started out ok. We woke up early, had breakfast, went down the beach. After a knocking on a few barn doors, we found a restaurant that could seat us for lunch. I’d forgotten that restaurants got booked up – it’s been so long since I’d wanted to do anything on this particular day of the year, I felt my eyes well up as I recognised my propensity towards foolishness was fully in play.

We ate lunch, it felt right, we were together as a family and it did not feel bad. We made our toasts and while I knew we were not the happiest of tables there, we were alright though. We waved goodbye to my brother, after packing him into a taxi with his white stick and left over pizza.

Then as Miniminx and I made our way to the station to go back to London, we walked through a supposedly safe pedestrian shopping area. I was on the phone to my sister, who was sick and still in bed, and telling her about the lunch when out of nowhere, a crazy guy on a mountain bike appeared. He was a maniac on the loose and I shouted to Miniminx to get out of the way, there was no time, he hit her. He didn’t stop. He hit her! There was an uproar, not least of all from me; he span off, people screamed. She screamed, I screamed. It was horrific, like we had been attacked by a predatory prehistoric bird – how on earth could this be happening?

This sacred day had been shattered. It was as if someone had detonated a bomb. I held my baby close, like a frightened small bird – checking her over so as not to cause her alarm, no blood, nothing broken, thankfully she was not injured badly. A knock on the head, a whack on the arm, she’d remained upright. Shocking. Thank god my brother wasn’t there – he’s had a detached retina operated on several times over the last few years – we’d have been in an ambulance immediately if it’d been him.

A girl from the flower stall ran over to give us flowers ‘I hope that makes it better’ she said. Another lady tried to reassure us ‘There’s only one or two bad ones here.’ The security guard was with us, also female, calling in the cctv footage from all around. This drama unfurling was something that we did not want to star in, we wanted to skulk away quietly and unnoticed, but all of a sudden we were in the spotlight. How cruel. ‘Not what you want on Mother’s day love is it?’ said the security guard lady.

We were shepherded towards Lidl to give our details, the man that took us had a large scar on his head and had been hit by a similar incident – he told us he’d been in hospital for months and had an abcess on his brain. At this point I found it hard not to be sick.

The biker, who had been caught on CCTV, was ‘detained’ minutes later. We walked away shaken, horrified and desperate to get home.

So much for remembrance. Our day had been brutalised but I was determined not to have it ruined. We went to the sweet shop with all the funky day glo sweets – it was closed – she cried. We went to grab an icecream and wandered towards the cab rank to get a taxi to the station.

Ensconced on the train in relative comfort, we were both glad to be on the way home.

‘Mummy shall I tell my teacher what happened?’
‘Darling – remember why we’re here, don’t let it take over the weekend, let’s get over it.’
‘But shall I tell my best friend what happened?’
‘Well why don’t you look at the whole weekend and pick out the good things?’

Or why don’t we just go boil our heads in buckets and have done with this one horse town, I’m not sure I’ll ever go back there now, my Mother doesn’t live there anymore, she’s within us and so what, my brother lives somewhere quieter, I ranted thought to myself.

But then I thought, hang on a minute – we were really looked after, people were much more caring than they would have been in London. With all these women helping each other, would that really have happened if it had not been Mothers’ Day?

I don’t know but they say blessings come in disguise.

Thanks to everyone today for helping us today. It has meant a huge amount. I hope those flowers last a while. We’ll be back for ice creams this Summer.

It’s no secret that I’m hassled frazzled bonkers busy but it’s not all doom and gloom. Living and working in London and bringing up a child in one of the most cultural capitals of the world is a rich and rewarding experience. There’s no way you can really slow down unless you leave town for the weekend or take a holiday, so my advice is just enjoy the ride.

That said, there are times when the stress may seem overwhelming. I just have to stop for a second and ask myself ‘What’s going to solve this simply and comfortably with no lasting impact?’ So while I have not resorted to cutting my own hair because I can’t fit a visit to the hairdresser in, I’ve definitely learned to cut a few corners and give myself extra time.

If you’re a working Mum like me and need to be firing on all cylinders 100% 24-7, you might find these ideas useful.

Cabbing Fever
I often get cabs to work and drop my daughter on the way. Some days we have to take gym kit, guitar, lunch box and school bag plus I have my handbag and laptop so it makes for a cumbersome walk. It buys us an extra 30 minutes or so meaning we have more time together in the morning and I get half an hour of zen like calm in the car after the chaos of getting out of the house and to school on time. I do my make up in the car, make any calls I need to, then grab a coffee and a yoghurt before hitting my desk. Can a nanny do all that?

Tight Spot
The necessary evil for all women and the most stressful thing in the morning; falling over while putting on tights and even worse; putting your hands through them as you pull them up. Always, always, always have oodles on hand for these hideous moments – at least 10 pairs is my estimate. Wolford is the best brand for tights and topshop for funky socks.

Every Occasional Wear
Make sure your wardrobe is well stocked and kept up to date, not just with new buys, but vintage oldies too and all kept in tip top condition and ready to go at a moment’s notice. If I’m coming home from work and having to go out later, I don’t want to spend precious time having a wardrobe crisis. I also choose what I want to wear in the morning.

Treat Out
Every week or so if my daughter has done really well at school or done something fab, I take her out to her favourite restaurant as a treat. She’s invented an absolutely revolting cocktail of cranberry juice and orange fanta which she loves, I don’t have to cook or clean up – perfect all round.

Work at Home
Working from home is the best thing ever. Make sure you have good broadband and mobile phone reception, as well as a back up laptop. Not only can you save hours on your commute but you can also catch up on domestic stuff at lunchtime. Even better, go for an early morning run after the school drop off and set yourself up for the day.

Dump the Toxic Timewasters
I have friends who make me wait – sometimes for hours. There are others who are forever rearranging to meet up and keep cancelling either a few hours before or after the meeting time. I think I probably spent or rather wasted at least 20 or hours on these people. I have such little spare time that I find what little I have is precious. It’s even more precious if I have paid for a babysitter or have arranged my day around one particular meeting… So no more of this in 2010 for me.

Full Steam Wardrobe
Never fight with the ironing board again….invest in a clothes steamer and make like a stylist. These are great, plus the savings on dry cleaning bills are massive. Steaming your clothes kills bacteria and smoothes creases, great for wool too plus it doesn’t use any earth harming chemicals, win-win I say.

Deliverance
Internet shopping is not just for a weekly one off. My milkman is online, we get three deliveries a week, so we always have milk, juice and yoghurt. So is Abel & Cole so we’re never short of fruit or veg plus they sells eggs, butter and loads of other things. They’re both doorstep services so you don’t have to be home. Use an online grocer for big stuff and bulk buy toilet rolls, dishwasher tablets, juice, dry goods.

Keep It Simple Supper
Two ways to give yourself a break in the evening; have an abundance of things which you can prepare in under 10 minutes or shove it all in the oven so you can cook and do other things. Dry fried Halloumi, green beans in pesto, olives, hoummus and pitta – hey presto! You can bake perfect risotto with peas in 30 minutes, and cook salmon at the same time in the oven.

Sleep Through It
My final and most important tip is don’t forget about those cosy moments which you cherish so much when you look back. When my daughter was small, sometimes I would fall asleep with her while I was reading her a bedtime story. I’ve started doing this again!