There are age categories for everything, and usually I don’t pay them much attention.
My skincare for example ranges from products aimed at teenage skin to an ampoule targeted at skin 60+ (here is the latest routine).
Age is a number and a privilege and doesn’t define us. Or does it?
A few days ago my fellow “mature” blogger Toni from Sheer Gloss and I chatted on Twitter about blogging after you reach a certain age.
Which sounds awful. Mature, certain age… I am still the one giggling at immature jokes and dancing in the kitchen at 2 am to my favorite song, I don’t spend my days knitting in a rocking chair quite yet.
But maybe I look like I do, as opposed to someone that just hit their early 20s. Which is why people in their early 20s tend to relate more to someone their age.
From the snowy mountains right to Las Fallas, the spring festival of Valencia and the Valencia area.
Sounds glamorous? Oh yes!
If only I hadn’t caught my sons stomach bug and spend one of the two days we had in the beautiful city hugging the hotel room toilet. TMI? Sorry!
Oh well, kids stay with you even if you leave them at home with the grandparents, I guess.
It was a blast nonetheless, and I managed to capture quite a bit of the festivities on camera. Some of the footage is there thanks to Mr. Loca though, who, in best You Tube husband tradition, ventured out when I couldn’t to capture some images.
And probably to escape the sounds that were emerging from the bathroom, trust me, it wasn’t pretty!
Don’t be fooled by the pretty picture! There are no sunsets in this video, in fact the sun has long set and you will only get to see me, fresh from the shower (in clothes!) and with a towel wrapped around my head.
Wait, that sounds off. I didn’t obviously shower in clothes, I meant that I put on clothes after the shower to film the video.
Even though, given how I was feeling when I filmed it, I would not have been surprised if I had forgotten to get dressed. Seriously, if my head wasn’t firmly placed on my shoulders, I think I might loose it somewhere these days.
I really have no explanation why it always takes me so long book an appointment to get my hair done.
I mean, the experience is nothing but pleasant! Even if you leave the whole “New hair, beautiful me” – thing aside, what is not to love?
Sitting in a chair with some tea and a book for more than two hours without getting up to a) wipe up spilled milk or b) wipe a bottom or c) wipe away tears due to spilled milk or wiping a bottom is an occasion so rare, I almost forget that a long time ago every weekend was supposed to be like this.
I vow not to let 13 months pass before I venture in the world of bleach and blow drys again!
There are some struggles with motherhood that no one really prepares you for. And I am not talking sleepless nights and complete loss of privacy here.
I talk about the struggles you face when your kids develop their own taste and it is completely different to yours.
“It is a phase!” is what people tell me, and I cling on to that hope like a drowning woman. Because right now all my daughter wants is pink, glitter and unicorns. And if you know me just a little, pink, glitter and unicorns are not my style.
They used to be though, as I faintly remember. When I was around six, I had set my heart on having a princess party for my birthday, and I wanted a pink dress and pink glitter and a plastic crown to wear.