This week felt a little bit like standing at the top of a rollercoaster.
The kind where you're excited, slightly emotional, and questioning whether you're actually ready for what's about to happen.
After months of planning, filming, editing, second-guessing myself, changing my mind, changing it back again, and wondering if anyone would even care, I finally released the very first episode of Storme Diaries.
And honestly?
I cried.
Not in a dramatic movie scene kind of way. More in the "standing in the kitchen scrolling through messages while holding a half-drunk coffee and trying not to smudge yesterday's mascara" kind of way.
Because when you've poured so much of yourself into something, there's always a moment where you hit publish and feel completely exposed.
Like you've just walked into a room and realised everyone can suddenly hear your thoughts.
But alongside the nerves was this overwhelming feeling of gratitude.
Seeing people listen, share, message me, and connect with something that started as a tiny idea in my head was a feeling I'll never really be able to explain properly.
It felt like the beginning of something.
And that's exciting.
In amongst all of that, I also filmed two brand new podcast episodes with two incredible mums.
What I love most about these conversations is that no two motherhood journeys ever look the same.
One mum's experience can be completely different from another's, yet somehow we all end up sharing so many of the same emotions.
The guilt.
The joy.
The exhaustion.
The identity crisis that comes from being someone's mum whilst also trying to remember who you are outside of motherhood.
Every conversation leaves me feeling inspired, emotional, and usually with about twelve new things to overthink at 2am.
So naturally, life decided to balance out all these lovely moments by making both children ill.
Because apparently the universe believes in keeping us humble.
Both babies have had colds this week.
Nothing serious thankfully, but enough to completely derail sleep schedules, nursery routines, and my already questionable level of organisation.
There is something about a poorly child that instantly transforms even the strongest parent into a hostage negotiator.
One minute you're offering Calpol.
The next you're carrying a child, a blanket, three random toys, a cup of water and a banana that nobody actually wanted.
I've spent most mornings this week wiping little noses and saying things like:
"Please don't wipe that on Mummy."
Followed immediately by them wiping it on me.
Again.
And somehow, despite being coughed on directly for most of the week, I'm now beginning to feel that familiar tickle in my own throat.
Mothers everywhere know exactly what stage this is.
The denial stage.
The "I'm absolutely fine" stage.
The stage where you drink a vitamin C sachet and convince yourself you're built differently.
I'll keep you updated.
Pray for me.
The good news is that after what feels like seventeen months of rain (I know it hasn't actually been seventeen months, but emotionally it has), the UK is preparing for a weekend of glorious sunshine.
Now, if you're British, you'll understand that sunshine isn't simply weather.
It's an event.
A national holiday.
A personality trait.
The second temperatures hit anything above 18 degrees, we collectively lose all sense.
Barbecues appear out of nowhere.
Garden furniture emerges from sheds.
Men start wearing shorts that haven't seen daylight since 2019.
And every parent suddenly decides this is the perfect time for a family day out.
So this weekend we're planning exactly that.
No major plans.
No huge expectations.
Just sunshine, fresh air, happy kids (hopefully), and making the most of those simple moments that always seem to become the memories we treasure most.
Because as much as this week has been about podcasts and launches and exciting milestones, it's also been about slowing down.
Holding poorly babies a little closer.
Appreciating how far Storme Diaries has come.
And reminding myself that sometimes the biggest moments happen quietly.
In the cuddles.
In the conversations.
In the little wins nobody else sees.
So here's to sunshine, surviving cold season, and celebrating the things we've worked hard for.
Even if we're doing it with a tissue in one hand and an iced coffee in the other.
Because if motherhood has taught me anything, it's that there's never really a perfect time.
You just start anyway.
And sometimes, that's where the magic happens. ☀️🤍