This weekend last year we had a girls trip to London-Mum and I travelled from Bristol, Emma came up from Southampton, and we met up with Esther who was living there at the time. For me, that weekend holds really special memories. We had a WhatsApp group going for all the planning, which proved hilarious on the journey as we tracked each other on the way, from Mum’s lost knitting needle, to the unsocial activity of Emma’s coach neighbour who was eating a hard boiled egg next to her, to Esther’s selfie of her morning hair before she got ready to meet us. There was a discussion going on about where we were going to eat, as our girls trips generally involve walking between food stops. Emma suggested we eat at the ‘place with the pots’, which in my head was a garden type cafe with hanging flower pots above it, but it turned out to be EAT, the sandwich shop that serves hot pots of food!

Thinking back on that weekend, where we crammed in sightseeing, a Thames boat trip, Covent Garden, several cake shops including the Hummingbird Bakery (swoon!), Harrods, a meal at Esther’s flat whilst watching the activities of the families who lived in the enormous houses behind hers, and of course the hot pots in Eat, it feels like a comma in my life-a pause for breath, a sabbath rest. Our lives tend to be pretty busy, and Liam and mine often feels a bit relentless. With our own three children plus new little ones coming and going, with all the appointments and meetings that involves, alongside our frequent house moves due to renting and landlords choosing to sell, every year has tended to involve some big changes and a fair amount of stress. In the 6 months before our London weekend, Liam and I had moved house, then moved an 11 month old baby girl we’d cared for from 2 days old to her forever family. And although my preference is to have another little one in our home as soon as possible, on this occasion we ended up with a four month gap between foster children. Whilst I knew I should be enjoying the rest, I was fairly restless and anxious. We depended on fostering as my income, and our tenants in the house we own had just handed their notice in. But that weekend was a place to stop and recoup. To eat cake, and to play Emma’s little game of ‘Best and Worst’-what are the best and worst things that have happened for you recently? It took several tea breaks for us to each have a turn, and quite a few tissues, but it was helpful to be honest, to be acknowledged, and to be loved.

Little did I know that just over a week later we would have not one but two little foster children arrive in our lives, who would fill up our hearts and lives and change our family for good.

I think this is where the memories of that weekend are so precious and encouraging. I went back home and the situations hadn’t changed, but I felt less panicky about it all. In the busyness of the day to day, I need to plan in those commas, to acknowledge that I do need time to stop, to get out of my frantic life and to do something that will bring refreshment. Sometimes that might only be deciding to get out of the house and walk down the river, to read a new book, or to arrange coffee with a friend. But if I don’t plan them, chances are they won’t happen! And the other thing I want to do, for myself and for others, is to play ‘Best and Worst’-to ask the questions that give people space to be honest. To not feel the need to give advice or solutions, but just to listen and acknowledge, to be real, and to love.

And now I’d very much like to plan another cake filled weekend to brighten this February!