If you have ever been to a blogging conference, there's a certain feeling when you get home that is hard to explain. It's a sort of post high, post giddiness relief, a similar sort of post wedding blues, the emotional and physical fuzziness that comes after the build up to a big event.

Last week I managed to pack 2 conferences in London in my country mouse schedule. 2 trips to the big smoke to share with you, a day at the races, hotel beds and hospitality. A beautiful brunch with Boots and a wake up call. I thought I protected my boys in the sun, but I had my eyes opened this week! 

I am in awe of the organisers of these events because even as an attendee they absolutely take over your life! You think about what you are going to pack, who can help you look after your children, what you are going to wear, who you want to meet and I spent a large part of last week preparing for the Define your Design sessions at BritMums Live. It's fair to say it took over the whole house and in my post conference hangover state the boxes full of props are still unpacked in my office!

I feel in a haze, my head is bursting with ideas, my notepad is dog eared and full of scribbles. I've met some incredibly inspiring people over the last week and the tricky bit is working out what to do next. I have so much to tell you all over the next week, the slides from the session to upload, our trips away to record, more fun from our birthday celebrations for Sammy, a few collaborations with companies and brands I admire but the week has just run away! I have drafted in some help from my IT support (aka Richard) to help me send out all the Summertime Surprise partner details, so if you signed up I promise I haven't completely forgotten about you all!

I remember the first time I went to a blogging conference. I was so excited and nervous I thought my chest was going to explode. I went through every emotion, feeling lost and lonely when I suddenly found myself in a corridor alone, feeling elated and completely drained all at the same time. But this year I tried to harness the nerves, make the most of being in a room with all the people I admire and give a big over excited squeeze to as many new faces as possible. For me a conference is about starting as many new friendships as possible, a time to be brave and taking that "what have I got to lose" feeling and making a plan to hopefully create something amazing from it. 

So that what's I am going to do when the clouds disappear from my head. Not be scared to share my pipe dreams, because you never know...

Here are some snaps from my week. Each one has it's own little story. A little memory, a shared moment a bit of history. I've travelled hundreds of miles in the last week, had special time with my sister, had a tour of the most beautiful cutting garden with one neighbour and a visit to another neighbour's stunning railway carriages. I have been surrounded by people who leave me in awe of their talent. I loved hearing everyone else's stories behind their photos linked up to the #capturingcolour gallery last week. I love that I have this photo journal of our lives at this moment in time, a snapshot of the things that inspire us, the people we adore and the places we get to visit. And that we all see something different. 

I seemed to be drawn to the outdoors last week, filling my feed with greens. This is my most favourite time of year, when you wake up and more often than not, the sun comes streaming through the curtains. The sunshine makes everyone a little kinder, more appreciative. 

It was almost impossible to choose a grid of favourites to share this week and these just captured my mood completely.

A hazy sense of calm mixed with passion and fun! Pop over to Instagram to find and follow them.

But I had to end this post with this photo from Lucy. For me this is the spirit of #capturingcolour and everything this blog means to me. A shared adventure, a continual feeling of excitement! Like everyday is like jumping off a cliff. When I look back on a week I feel like superwoman. A tired superwoman but never the less I am really proud of everything we achieve each week as a family. Not big things, but ordinary little things which mean so much. Rich sewing badges on a uniform for our new fully invested, woggle wearing Beaver, our 3 year old who now counts to 100 on every car journey, my tea merchant building a mini family empire and the mini performances behind the curtains, encouraging our less confident small boy to find his voice. All the little steps lead to the big leaps.

There's a part of me that wants one of those costumes to sit at my desk in.

Follow Lucy's fabulous feed for more of her beautiful styling and captured moments. 

Now come and join in with this week's theme MY FAVOURITE PHOTO. Re-share an old favourite, show us all your favourite places, people and things that inspire you. 

#capturingcolour is a weekly theme on Instagram. Tag your photos and post your FAVOURITES this week. I will share a round up next Monday :)

I was walking or rather hobbling around the garden earlier, on account of almost 11 hours of driving in 24 hours this week, and a back which has said quite loudly and clearly, ENOUGH! And I tutted to myself that a few of the beautiful plants which have come into flower have started to wilt and I forgot to snap a photo. I had this vision of taking a set of photos, of the garden through the seasons and framing them as a Christmas present. I stood there, feeling a little cross with myself and it suddenly hit me how these floppy poppies and wilted peonies, with their petals strewn across the garden path, embodied everything I was feeling at that exact moment.

The 3 or 4 peonies still vibrant with their bursting heads of layer upon layer of petals can't be snipped. They are so fragile that just one gust of wind will force the deep pink petals to tumble to the ground. On the surface they stand proudly, amongst the greenery, but at any point they could crumble.

They've kept going, stood strong against the strong south westerly breezes we have had over the weekend, but they won't last forever. We trundle out every morning from the back door, which drives me crazy because I like using the front door, and the boys run their fingers through the delicate Iris' gently nodding in the wind. As soon as they come into bloom they look almost tragic, crinkly petals that last for weeks, despite their meek exterior.

I had my week planned out almost to the minute. The after school club finally opened with just two boys booked in for the sessions until 6. Our boys. I felt dreadful at the thought that they would be on their own, but they weren't on their own they had each other! And the leaders couldn't speak highly enough of them at pick up time, at how they'd played so nicely together, been polite, well mannered, engaging. It was a relief because at home, those moments are out of balance with the attitude, the back chat, the playful wrestling that always end up in tears. You know when you have a "I've turned into my mother moment" and it stops you in your tracks. Not in a bad way, but you've been instantly transported back to your childhood and you can hear her words. "It'll all end in tears" and then "I told you it would all end in tears!"

At 12 hours or so notice I made an emergency call to my mum and sister and drafted in reinforcements to help with the boys, which meant a sweet overnight guest came with mum and she had all three grandchildren until we got back from a trade show in Cheltenham. 

Unexpectedly I had to help Rich at a trade show for our tea company, and it completely threw my week right off course! 2 days child free until 6 I had planned for editing, calls for my development consultancy job and sharing a blog post or two (Thanks if you are still reading, all work and no play makes this blog a very quiet place.) all went out of the window. I'm dying to share the party photos from Sammy's birthday, our new offices, my online blog shop and my branding developments for this blog, but it's all had to wait. 

People often say wow you are like superwoman, how do you fit it all in or you must have an extra few hours in the day we don't, but the truth is I have well and truly burnt the candle at both ends and they have met head on in the middle. I almost felt I shouldn't post this, that keeping up the perception of being able to do it all was an achievement, but actually I feel that achieves nothing at all.

It's good to offload sometimes, share your secrets and fears. To admit you have carried around presents that need to be posted for over a week because you've arrived the post office at closing time. Normal life for us often includes dinner at 10pm, no tv and both being buried behind a laptop of an evening. 

We have worked from home for almost 5 years, Rich doing a couple of years before that too, and the novelty has definitely worn off. It's a discipline to work from home, to have boundaries and stick to them. I have a post to share with my advice for anyone starting to work from home so I won't go into too much here, but the biggest misconception is the concept of the "working week". We simply don't have one. Weekdays blur into weekends and as busy as our calendar is, the work just gets squeezed into evenings, Saturday nights and Sunday mornings. Emails come in, messages come in and we try and juggle the responsibility we have to our boys and each other and the wonderful clients we are lucky to work with. 

I am not in the least complaining. I love my hectic life, it's who we are and I thrive on it. I race around and I feel a buzz, that feeling of being alive, flying by the seat of your pants, it's what makes me tick. It was the same when I started my working career. Being a land buyer was an exhilarating but nervous ride. And that balance between the two was what made me fly as high as a kite.

I just need a bit of help around the house. I'm still smiling but my eyes are tired. Becoming a tea merchant this week meant I was managing 4 jobs and that's impossible with boys who finish school at 3.15pm. I had been beating myself up, convincing myself that I was failing at everything and then I read this post by Emily and I felt relieved. I subscribe to Emily's posts (Forgive me if you subscribe to my newsletter, I am sure you can't remember the last time you got one!) and she has been sort of a mentor figure to me over the last couple of years.

Since we moved we've had a temporary state. There's parts of the house we've renovated, and parts that are so unloved I could cry. You could write your name in the dust on our bedside tables, our blinds constantly go out of kilter and hang at precarious angles, and more often than not there's a new toilet roll delicately balanced on the empty old one! It's not really us, it's a reflection of us at this moment in time.

I'd so much rather enjoy an afternoon with our very bestest friends and family, sat on hay bales we've borrowed from our neighbours (Yes I turned up to our lovely friend's small holding across the road in a summer dress and flip flops. They were in wellies and just rolled their eyes and laughed!) and worry about the dusting another time.

I joke at preschool that my achievement each day is getting them to school with a healthy packed lunch, clean and ironed clothes (We iron to order... unless my lovely mum or equally lovely mother in law has been to visit.) Trying to chase all your dreams can sometimes feel like an impossible task but I'm not ready to give up on that dream.

I just need a reboot. A chance to get on top of everything. Be more disciplined at home. I love that Rich and I are from the same mould, that we have this shared determination to create something. He always says, what do you want to do? Do you want to work or do you want to make something? Something special. But that sometimes can feel like it's taken hold of your soul. That's there's no minute left in a day to stop and actually enjoy what you are creating. Last year I forced myself to stop taking my big camera out with us every where we went. You need sometimes that are just for you. In the blogging world it's kind of gone full circle, that now the ordinary events of our daily lives are more applauded than the more traditional exciting ones. That there's more to congratulate that we document all the little things our children do as opposed to the big moments, even though they have absolutely no say in whether they want all their milestone moments and the moments in between written in internet history forever. That every day they have a camera in their face, that their lunch, their outfits, their sleep times, their down time or intimate moments gets shared to hundreds if not thousands. My childhood photo albums are bursting with birthday parties, holidays with my cousins at Southbourne and yet some of my favourite photos I've taken of the boys are of the times my parents just enjoyed, the ones they took a mental picture of because there was no need to share it with the masses. 

So tonight, I feel a little fragile, my body is giving me a warning sign and I know I need to make changes. Not necessarily to do less, but to manage it better. Get some help around the house, prioritise. Instead of thinking what do I need to do this week, think about what do I need to do today. 

I pinch myself everyday that this is the life we have worked hard to create. That our children are confident, dynamic, thriving young boys, that my niece feels almost as comfortable at our house as she does at home, that Rich and I will have a chance to reconnect on our child free trips away throughout the year. That it's ok to struggle sometimes. To feel out of control. It's normal! Every day is adventure. 

And if there are days I feel like a lonely foxglove, battling the winds that's ok too. Because tomorrow the sun will shine. 

Ordinary can be extraordinary every single day. 

Linking up with Mummy Daddy Me and The Ordinary Moments

Yesterday we celebrated Sammy turning six. 6 years of this incredibly bright, witty and forthright boy in our lives. His sense of logic and thirst for knowledge, astound us on a daily basis and there is nothing I love more than spoiling him on his birthday. I love that our family and friends come together in the most happy of occasions to all sing the same song, cheer and clap, just as you do when they are 1 or 100. 

The sense of togetherness, of bringing together the important people in their worlds, to give them a real moment in the spotlight, where all they can do is smile like a Cheshire cat. His birthday has lasted the whole week of the half term holidays, starting with a weekend with his little cousin Yasmin, a mini holiday to my in-laws in Poole, and the most simple of birthday days in the garden.

The sun shone, we played. And that was all. We didn't leave the garden, bar Granny going to pick up the requested birthday lunch of fish and chips, and we watched as the three of them cemented their special bond, playing hide and seek in the long grass and exclaiming "weeeee" as they all took turns on the new slide.

It was an ordinary day. It was the day he wanted. Just us, in the garden, no work, just play.

We ended the week with a little less simplicity and a little more fanfare! He may have loved his simple birthday but when it comes to parties my boys are all about the bigger the better! Phew! Because I just adore throwing these parties for them. It was a camping party extravaganza and when he came with me to pick up some last minute bits on Friday afternoon he said, "Ooh Mama what theme shall we have next year?!" And that is why I love this boy. For his sense of innocent joy, anticipation and excitement. He relishes the simple days and the extraordinary days. He's just like me, the build is all part of the fun. Every detail is noted, he sat with me looking at Pinterest for inspiration for his cake decorations, he helped me set out the buffet table. He memorises the little things, the things that seem over the top. And that's why I do it, because he will pour over the photos, he will randomly on a car journey recall one tiny detail and he will thank me again quietly, weeks after the event, for such a lovely time. 

So even at 6am, when I was barefoot in the garden in my PJs on the morning of his birthday, when Granny was trying to keep him in bed a little longer (She had slept on a mattress in their bedroom with them as a special treat - what a Granny!) it was worth it. Worth laying out a trail of presents, pound shop finds, a few bits I had got in a charity shop still in their packaging and a few new things, to the new tree house fort we had all clubbed together to buy. 

He hadn't even got round the corner and he was shouting "This is the best birthday ever!" 

Sammy - you have a feisty temper, you wear your heart on your sleeve. You have the best and worst our our personality traits and yet I know you will grow up to be the most wonderful young man. You don't know you are cool, that the girls like you, that your floppy hair and enormous brown eyes are going to give us all sorts of trouble in the future! The night before his party he had a bad dream and we played musical beds as usual. And I must have stirred at around 6.30am, when it was light outside and I could see the sun rays coming through the cracks in the blind, and I just looked at him. He sleeps with his mouth closed, his skin is slightly sun kissed from a week in the garden and on the beach with Grandma and Grandad, and he looked so handsome. A spattering of freckles on his soft skin, his fringe just touching his eyelashes on account of a missed half term trim. And I said to Rich as we were manoeuvring the dining room table through the conservatory doors, I just took a minute to look at him, to take him in. To snap a mental picture of this innocent boy who is so healthy, so fit, so desperate to learn, achieve and grow. He is vying to be a big boy and we are longing for him to stay small. To relish this time being so young, to soak up everything life has to offer being 6. 

His teacher has a few pet names for the class. There's Popstar (Poppy) and Super Sammy.

And that's what you are our boy. Super Sammy.

In all the birthday excitement the day passed without a photo of the four of us. But yesterday at the party we hopped on the "totem pole" chair (That's been hidden in the garage since we moved) and my sister snapped this photo. She looked up from behind the lens and said. That's your Me and Mine shot!

And suddenly here we are. The end of May, with a 6 year old. A boy who has lived in 3 houses, will have gone to 3 schools come September when they start a new adventure, and who we couldn't be without. 

The months ahead are packed with planes, trains and automobiles. No lazy weekends at home at all, but the bags under our eyes will hopefully have time to heal with a precious first family holiday just the four of us to Turkey and we are squeezing in a few other holidays, more happy birthdays including one in Paris and one in America, and making as many memories as possible. Last year taught our family the hardest lesson and I am determined to make the most of what we have. Being able to visit my brother in America because my Mum works for BA, have complete trust in my in laws to leave the boys with them so Rich and I can have some desperately needed time being just as husband and wife for a day or too, and spending as much time with our best friends as possible. June is packed with blog conferences, meeting new friends and catching up with old ones. People I talk to every day online but rarely get the pleasure of a proper hug. On those crazy weekends haring across the South West we still fit in lazy brunches, with a house full today we were still in pjs at 11am. The down time is there, it's just not always at home. It's in our homes from home, in Southbourne, in Poole, in the South East and beyond. 

But this week was all about you. Super Sammy.

I owe so much to this Me and Mine project and I know I am way behind visiting all the lovely blogs who join in. I promise to catch up. It's a pleasure to see everyone's families. Pop over to Jenny's blog to see what her beautiful family of four have been up to this month. 

May, I rather liked you. Pop back to see the party photos later this week!