Tag Archives: Barbie

Once upon a time there lived a princess

img_5480Tomorrow I am off to Farrow and Ball to seek their invaluable advice about what colour to paint my bedroom and my study. “Oh come on”, I hear you say, “you need advice choosing colours? don’t you just KNOW?” well, no I don’t. I simply can’t choose which is why to a certain extent I only use Farrow and Ball. They have a limited selection which is good for me because too much choice is dazzling but also the quality and finish is second to none and I redecorate maybe once every 10 years so I need to love it and at the price point I literally cannot afford to make a mistake.

I know what I don’t like – isn’t that always the way in life? -but am having difficulty making a final choice.

Lulu’s room is easy – pink. It is already a light pink, Calamine, the same as mine and now she is having Nancy’s Blushes, a true gorgeous brighter pink. She wants a Barbie Boutique bedroom, so out comes the wardrobe, and in goes open copper piping to hang her pretty princess dresses. Also shelves by her bed for her Sylvanian family to live on, more shelves for her pretty shoes to live on and a display cabinet for her crowns etc. I am not entirely sure how this is all going to work but I have two days to do it. I have been promising her that we would re do her room for a few months now, I was the one who suggested it – idiot. But as I remain quite unwell it hasn’t been feasible, also money has been super tight but thanks to my financial whizz of a private banker – no idea why I get this service from my bank – error i think, but I’m not knocking it, I have paid off overdrafts (yes, two) and got a smidgen more to decorate at a lower interest rate that the silly over drafts!!! So now is the time. Also, a while a go a friend of mine was fretting about how best to serve his children in his newly divorced state, phone every day, which they didn’t seem too fussed about, or every few days? From my experience as a child of divorced parent’s I advised that the children won’t remember of what you did do but they will remember what you didn’t, so, parents – please if you can, do what you say you will or it is very disappointing, so here I am about to don an old t shirt and start slapping on the paint.

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The reason decorating my room is so important to me is that I spend a lot of time in bed, and this means that sometimes Lu spends a lot of time in my bed with, watching TV, chatting, eating toast – who cares about crumbs – and I want it to be a really nice place for her to be, I don’t want her to remember mummy bing sick and having to spend time in my room because of that I want her to remember how gorgeous my room was and want to be in it with me. She plays dress up in all my clothes – my expensive cocktail dresses are her favourite, she plays with my make up and I have made sure I have a beautiful dressing table and stool so it is a really nice experience. She favours Mac’s Ruby Woo at present, my six year old has the best taste ever. She has stated dabbling with my Bobbi Brown blusher and is not adverse to donning a pashmina and a statement necklace to finish off the look. I don’t mind at all, she love it and seeing her happy is a joy to me. I’m not an idiot though, the Gina shoes and Mulberry Handbags remain nestled in their protective bags way beyond the hand reaching height of a fashion conscious little girl. But if her feet don’t grow beyond a size 3 she has lots of gorgeous shoes coming her way when she grows up.

If it is of any interest I am torn between painting my room pink, Nancys Blushes, as I bloody love pink, it makes me happy, or so I go for ¬†grey which I also love and means I can accessorise my ass off with pink but also Peignoir appeals. For the study, which is Elephant’s Breathe, I am thinking a darker grey, maybe Pavilion Grey. My friend Kathryn has thrown a spanner in the works by suggesting Pigeon, a gorgeous blue grey. Arrgghhhh.

I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know

Oh my darling Lucia, we have just spent your 5th Christmas day together and it was a privilege. You were so excited about Santa’s visit that you barely slept on Christmas Eve, which of course means neither did I, thanks for that!

I was up until 1am wrapping your presents, listening out for your little footsteps in case you appeared in the living room and all the magic was lost. But you managed to stay in bed asleep until 3am so I filled your stocking and left it on the end of your bed and snuck off to my bed hoping for a good rest before the fun and games began on Christmas morning. But it was not to be and 3 am rolled around too quickly.

I haven’t been feeling very well at all these last few weeks which is why I have been a bit tireder than usual and walking bit slow that usual. I have been trying my best to keep it from you, I don’t want to tell you am sick again because I don’t want you to worry but I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to play with you. I am trapped in an impossible situation.

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After your Barbie Dream House was constructed yesterday, 3 hours – thanks to your dad for delivering it un built!! – you asked me to play but by that point I was literally on my knees with pain and exhaustion, lunch had been cooked and eaten and I fell asleep on the sofa, the pain in my legs woke me up and there you were with nanny, happily playing with your toys. “Play with me mummy” was the refrain of the day and I kept saying ‘ later darling, I have to cook lunch” ‘later daring, I’m a bit tired’ and you looked so crest fallen, you were so patient, I prayed for time to go faster so it would be time for you to go to bed and I could stop refusing you play time with me. I never want to wish away our time together but I didn’t know what to do, we put on our pyjamas and got into my super king bed and you watched youtube toy reviews while I cuddled you and I silently cried while you sat on my lap, it was the worst day of parenting I have ever had, I let you down, I wasn’t the parent you deserved, luckily I have a streaming cold so you thought I was just sniffling as usual.

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You are so precious and amazing and I couldn’t give you the thing you deserved and needed, my undivided time to do with me as you wished. That is the real price I pay for having a chronic illness. It’s not the lack of ability to have a social life, its not the frustration at the endless pain I cant control, its not the fear of a liver transplant, its the fact that I cannot be the mother you, my child, needs and deserves. I can never have that time with you back again and all you will remember about this year’s Christmas day is that I didn’t want to play with you. As the time passes I hope that is not the thing that stands out, let it be the big tacky dolls house with ALL the sound effects, please.

Lucia, I love you so very much, more than I can express, there is no one else I would like to send my time with. As you left with your father this morning to have Christmas with him, my heart broke and I wanted the time back again, I want to be well, I want to play Barbies with you.