Sara:
I always wanted children because I thought I would make a good mum. When she arrived I knew I would be a good mum to her forever because I loved her bones immediately.
But what I didn’t know was how much it would change my life.
People say that having a child makes their world complete, having my baby shattered mine. It wasn’t the constant nappy changes or the 4am feeds that did it, those I was ready for; it was the identity crisis that hit me the hardest.
Having a baby puts a whole lot of things into perspective, it made me question my life and how I live it.
Although I thought these mother and baby things were beneficial for the soul it certainly cemented in my mind that I most definitely don’t want to ever become one of those mums, you know the type:
“Tarquin crawled yesterday and he’s only one day old. Oh is your baby not doing that yet?”
And
“I am going to breastfeed Jemima exclusively until she is one, because she deserves the best. Oh you stopped at 8 months did you?”
I think we mums need a little cynicism in our lives with a great big dollop of truth. I found other mums to be competitive and even friends afraid to tell the truth about their babies.
Once you fess up about accidentally spreading poo all over your face after a nappy change other mums do start to lighten up, but there is still always a lingering hint of judgement in the air when the truth comes out - oh wait, maybe I went too far?
Having a baby is probably one of the best things I have ever done or will ever do. Nothing will top the experience of carrying and giving birth to my beautiful baby daughter, sorry to sound soppy - but it’s true - and although it’s been tough and more tough times are ahead (NOT looking forward to the teenage years!) I still thank her for opening my eyes to a whole new world and a whole new me.
Katie:
I’d be lying a bit if I said I'd never ski'd before, I did spend a day in Scotland on very little snow, lifts closed, trudging up the slopes in my boots and trying to film a friend whilst ploughing slowly down. But when we woke up for our first day in the Aosta valley, I knew I was in for something completely different. Everyday of the holiday I was struck by the magnificent beauty of Mont Blanc and the surrounding mountains, how clean the streets were and how much fun it was to communicate in French with the Italian locals.
After the initial semi-stress of finding the lifts, ski hire and ski school, I was happy to bumble around on my skis with Alessio my instructor whilst the other more experienced of the group bombed off around the mountains. I quickly became confident on the skis but not so much with navigating the slopes and the lifts. My fear was that I would end up at the top of a black with no way of escape but down.
On my first day without lessons I got really fed up. I was on my own skiing the same slope over and over, getting quicker but stuck in a blue rut. I didn't have the confidence to try a red on my own and I didn't want to drag one of the boys with me. I was going to ask for the apartment keys, go back and never ski again... The two snowboarders in our group bumped into me at exactly the right time...'if you can do that blue you can definitely do this red... come on.' I was nervous but something clicked half way down. I could do reds! Now most of the mountain was open for me, my boyfriend showed me some more lifts and red slopes and I was off! Every slope left me more confident and I even started skiing down unknown slopes and getting unfamiliar lifts. I was so excited; of course the boy was too cool to be excited just saying 'I knew you'd be good at it' (not even a smile… tut).
By the end of the week I'd fallen lots, messed up so much my skis had popped off, had a ski tantrum, was happily skiing on reds and had seen most of the mountain. More than I thought I would ever achieve on the trip. It was tiring but worth it, up for the first lift every day, only coming down when the last lift had closed. Leaving us with barely enough energy for drinking and eating in the evening.
I hadn't really realised how much fun I had until I was putting my shoes on for work on the following Monday. I found myself thinking 'the last time I wore these was walking back to the apartment after my last day on the slopes.' Since then I've wished I were back there shooshing around. Before the trip I was so nervous about every aspect of the holiday, when people asked if I was excited I'd say 'I'm excited about the next ski trip, when I know what I'm doing.' It's still true; I'm so excited about my next trip, whenever it will be.
