Amsterdam. We Likey.

My traveling companion.

 I've just returned from a two night sojourn in Amsterdam, where my sister and her young family are now living. Before leaving I was a little too preoccupied with the general goings on in our household to get excited or curious about what lay ahead but if expectations aren't addressed my senses are somehow a little more instinctive when met with a glut of great design aesthetics pretty much everywhere I looked. Caspar, our three year old came too and I know he 'digged' it just as much as me, although maybe it was the  fantasy superhero play that involved finger shooting most passers by from our bike as I gazed longingly into every other interior passed, which really got him going.
 I'd visited the city before, over a decade ago but on this trip I spent my whole time being struck by the delights of their architecture and the practical ways which the Dutch make it work for them. Is it that I'm older and therefore I get a buzz out of less risky pursuits? There was no trace of any pull towards smoking cafes or the need to spend my money like Johnny Foreigner. I had a bike, a boy, - my boy that is, 3 years old! - and a whole lot of time and we cycled and cycled and cycled. In theory I should have been arrested for my cycling style which was dictated by my inner belief that even though I didn't know where the next tram was going to lurch from, in what direction the steady flow of traffic was going or just how many bikes were confidently hurtling towards me, we would remain intact because we were on holiday and realities of life pause for a while. A concerning delusion.

 Now, back on home turf, I have become a little more reignited in my quest for the practical to catch up with my fantastical. I can't rebuild the structure of our house but I'm prepared to invest a bit more time in the execution of an idea. Good design should work for all. Husband and kids included. So when certain members of my family catch me picking up a paint pot at an unreasonable hour, moments after being caught in a 'great idea' thought, don't try and point out my single-minded 'crazy must do now' behaviour. Buy me a ticket to Amsterdam, bike and boy included and await the change. It's good. (If slightly unrealistic!) 

Windows. Windows. Windows.

Want light. Get light.

Big, bold doors.

Beautiful black.

Riding with the Rach.

A modern build' door.

Handwritten nos. - and everywhere!

Hitching a ride ...

Big, yellow and ...French but in Amsterdam.

Restrictions Apply...

Yes, air stweardess person, he is under 9kg (!?*),
your legal restriction requirement for use of
the 'sky cot'. He may look fat but if I fold his
arm here and his leg here....., hey presto!

Family holiday.

Multiple infants in small holiday hut.

Strange sleep patterns.

Cot for youngest can double as drum kit at 4am most mornings.

3 year olds can be seen wearing three tops and thick trousers despite tropical heat.

Various hazardous items to act as booby-traps for small people in said rental.

Repeated and heightened shushing for sustained two hour period at beginning of day.

This list can be extended but...
that is a family holiday for you when you have little people.

Despite raising our children without the modern accoutrements of nannies, au pairs or 'staff', I find holidays more work than being at home, where I have surrounded myself with the tools we all need. However, that said, this break, our first proper time away in almost two years, has been fun.
My kids make me laugh. My husband is resilient and the sun shines on.

Island life brings city folk some challenges and a blogger even more (very little connection - but if the toaster doesn't work, what can I expect.) And now I'm starting to roll with it.

So off I head into another day of sun and I'm going to smile. Smile because that is what I'm meant to do and smile because being glum can leave you with some dodgy tan lines.

After hours.