Mrs Helicopter Writes

Christmas is without a shadow of a doubt my favourite time of year. I am super lucky because growing up my family really invested in creating traditions and making it a magical time of year for us. Not with money, we didn’t have much of that growing up, but just with making such a big fuss of the season. So for me it’s still a magical time of celebration, happiness and fun with the added bonus of living that magic vicariously through my children. But this year, something changed. The stress outweighed the excitement of the season and I almost had a breakdown. I started to have panic attacks and I had to go and see my *counsellor to get me through the holidays. I can’t say I actually decompressed until several days after Christmas day, despite having lovely times in between. But I just wanted it to be over. I couldn’t cope with the weight of expectation laid so heavily at my door. Laid at the door of the wife, the daughter, the mother, the granddaughter, the daughter-in-law. And ...

Festival Season is well and truly upon us. And I’m seeing loads of pics on social media from friends who’ve come back from Green Man and Camp Bestival and all sorts of other outdoorsy musical events and I must say, I’m a little bit envious. That’ will NEVER be me and my kids.   Big Day Out, Melbourne 2006 As a teenager, I absolutely LOVED a festival. I can honestly say that bunking off school at 17 and going to Glastonbury in the back of a battered old van with the local crusties was one of the definitive moments of my life. I didn’t think I could be any happier than when I was at that festival, surrounded by fellow drunken / high “alternative types”. Of course, in 1993 it was actually still hot and sunny during summer so this was long before the bog-fest of later years. It was all incense, tie dye, tassels, sun-scorched grass, stone circles, crazy dancing, jamming on guitars with strangers, delicious smelling food stalls and warm beer in plastic beakers. I’d see hi...

Hands up who likes dressing up? Are you a lover or a hater? Three guesses which I am. Of course I am. I am a LOVER! I love that shiz to death! There is nothing more fun to me than making a big old deal about something with full blown costume thrown in….it completely adds to the excitement! If you give me an invite which has the immortal words “Fancy Dress” on it…you can bet your bottom dollar, I’ll be there! But why DO some people like to dress up so much? Well, it’s a little bit of fantasy, isn’t it? You get to play someone or something else for a few hours. You can completely change persona if you feel like it! My parents had a 70s themed Ruby Wedding party and people didn’t even recognise me. I loved it! “Look, it’s me JESS! ….see?” I was so over excited, bless. It can also be quite ceremonial. When a friend had her 40 th  a few years ago, after a long struggle with cancer we were all instructed to come in medieval gowns and the venue was the basement of a medieval castle. I...

Autumn is the most exciting time of year, hands down. WHY? Firstly, because Spring is an expectation for a summer we never usually have. Winter is one month of festive fun and two months of misery and darkness… and UK summer.... the desperate hope that we will have a warm, dry summer…immediately dashed up the arrival of howling winds and driving rain on August 1st. All summer sun well and truly over before the kids holidays. Do kids these days even know what a hosepipe ban IS?! I think in this country especially, that’s probably a big part of why we love the arrival of Autumn. Summer in the UK these days is just so goddamn disappointing. Even though we may have a good run in June and July, as soon as the holiday starts ...dull, grey days, wind. Interspersed with a few nice days here and there. Possibly a one day heat wave bringing a big surge of hope that it’ll stick around only to wake to gale force ten battering your windows the following morning. Of course there are (crazy) pe...

Hello lovely people! I have done my first actual themed vlog. I have answered a series of questions about my best bits of the 90s. I've joined up with   Aby from You Baby Me Mummy & Amy from Mr and Mrs T Plus Three and their linky #Vlogstars.  You can join in too! The questions are below.... if you don't want to vlog it though, bung the answers on my Facebook post so I can be nosy!  Be warned this is a long vlog. I am sorry I find it SO hard to self edit! There is lots of visual stimulus though so hopefully it's not a total bore off. Enjoy!  1. Favourite Disney film? 2. NSYNC or Backstreet Boys? 3. Favourite music artist? 4. Favourite candy/sweet? 5. Weirdest fashion trend? 6. Favourite game console & game? 7. What would you watch after school/college? 8. Favourite book? 9. Favourite clothing store? 10. Your best 90s memory?

♥ My Momma ♥ My mum was a stay at home mum. From the day she had me, 39 years ago until the present day she hasn’t had much paid work. How LAZY. What a LUXURY. What did she DO all day? Did she spend her time going out for lunch, shopping and going to the gym like a footballer’s wife? I know she at LEAST went for coffee every morning after school drop off! All my other friend’s mums had jobs or even careers. My Grandmother and my Nana also worked. Why didn’t my mum work? As a teenager I struggled with this. Those were my judgemental, critical, ill-informed thoughts. Hark, the ignorance of youth! In my younger school years, my future career choices had varied wildly… from vet (too thick), to speech therapist (why?!) to farmer (too veggie/precious city-ite). But I had no idea what I wanted to do career-wise because what I really wanted to do was be a mum. A mum like my mum. I thought her life was BRILLIANT! She got to stay at home and play with her kids and have loads of f...

I have just had the misfortune of making 3 separate attempts at trying to produce a photo that Customs and Excise will feel is the truest representation of my face. At a cost of fifteen, FIFTEEN of your British Earth Pounds! I tell you! I don’t have that kind of money to fanny around with! I’m already being robbed blind paying out nearly £100 smackers for the privilege of having an up-to-date passport just so I can prove that I am MYSELF in any given situation (because it sure as hell isn’t anything as fun as a HOLIDAY. Although the “fun-ness” of holidays at my time of life is debated here …). In the photo it’s required that there is a white background, my head needs to sit neatly between two markers on the screen, I must have nothing on my face, neck, head. I must show no facial expression and DEFINITELY NO SMILING. Official guidelines here . Photo 1: It was rejected by the kind ladies at the post office counter who after much too-ing and fro-ing because I wa...

Are holidays with small children REALLY holidays? I mean, isn’t a holiday supposed to be a time to relax, enjoy yourself and enjoy new surroundings for a few days (or if you’re crazy, a week plus!)? Isn’t it just going to another place to do the same thing but with added mega stress? This was my cynical thought process after a particularly harrowing few days away in Portsmouth a couple of months ago. In fact, pretty much every “holiday” we’ve been on since having kids (which has involved between a few days and a week somewhere in the UK) has been stress city with, on very rare occasions, a few pockets of genuine fun at best. Our first holiday was in a lovely cottage in Cardigan, which is where we took Gus swimming for the first time. He was 4 months old. There were some genuinely lovely times but mainly we were on high alert the whole time, not in the slightest bit relaxed (despite the copious evening consumption of Pimms or wine or both). The surroundings couldn’t have been love...