Nightmares, throaty giggles and Celine Dion

I haven’t been up to much at the moment aside from planning my wedding as it’s very near now! I never imagined the insane amount of planning that goes into these dos, right down to trivialities like the colour of napkin holders or the right angles to place chairs at – it’s completely ridiculous! Thankfully my wedding planner Danielle Nay of Transformers Event Planning does it for a living so that’s taken a lot of the stress away, but not quite all of it!


The most exciting part of the whole wedding planning experience  has definitely been designing my wedding dresses (yes, plural!) with a few of my close designer friends. I’m not going to spill the beans on who they are now, as that would ruin the surprise, but the level of craftsmanship, love and dedication that has come from realising my dream dresses from some extremely shoddily drawn sketches (art is not my forte!) is amazing and I’m beyond excited to finally try them on.

I’m starting to panic a little as one of the dresses has only just begun being made, and the other still isn’t finished, meaning I’m yet to see either of the finished pieces. I have been having weird nightmares about them arriving half done; last night’s nightmare involved my dress falling apart at the altar and me ending up naked except for strategically placed bunches of grapes – I have no idea what that means?! Meanwhile Tom has been scouring shops for a vintage tie and shoes to add to his (also custom designed) black wedding suit.

The one thing non-wedding related that has been taking up nearly all of my time at the moment is Astala. He’s just turned 5 months old and is perhaps the cutest baby of all time. He’s definitely the smiliest one I’ve ever encountered with the cheekiest grin and funniest, throaty giggle. His favourite thing to do is for me to hold him in front of the mirror so that he can see himself and me, then laugh at the funny faces I pull at him so hard that he has a coughing fit and then, inevitably, proceeds to start bawling.

Astala is at that age when he will not tolerate being left on his own without you amusing him and giving him my undivided attention. If I even dare to break eye contact from his lordship he goes absolutely mental and shouts until I’m back to sing Celine Dion and Liza Minelli show tunes to him, and if I sing anything else he isn’t having any of it. (He also seems to have a very acquired taste in music at the moment!) Astala is also finding his own voice, and by that I mean he thinks talking is shrieking at an unholy decibel until you shriek back at him, in a sort of shrieking conversation. However, it’s very cute.

Astala has also been getting a bit naughty by trying to stay up much later than his 7pm bed time, which has resulted in Tom resorting to running around the kitchen table in circles with Astala in the sling, trying to get him to sleep that way. We realised that it was due to his napping too much during the day and we have now reached a happy nap-to-waking ratio, which means less night time partying for baby and more time sleeping for us, thank God. He loves to drift off in my arms watching his favourite show, Night Time Relax on Baby TV, and his little sleeping face looks like so angelic it’s almost too much to handle.

Last weekend Tom played Reading and Leeds festivals last weekend so I left Astala with his Grandma Sue (Tom’s mum) for the day to head down to Reading with his dad and sister to watch him play. Honestly, I felt like a 90 year old. Everyone there was about 15 and drunk out of their minds on illicitly snuck in booze (stolen from Daddy’s cabinet at home, I’m sure).



Everywhere you turned there was another denim micro-short-sporting tween throwing up whilst their equally wasted school friend held back her hair. Topless boys showing off pigeon chests with swearwords lipsticked on them strutted around totally disinterested in any bands, whilst their identikit Topshop-clad female counterparts set fire to unsuspecting revellers tents. Horrendous!

This week is a special one as I’ve got my maid of honour Lily’s wedding coming up on Saturday. It’s so nice that she’s getting married just before me as it makes our bond as friends even stronger with us both experiencing such life altering events and going through the same process with each other. Lily’s having her wedding in her hometown of Hastings, where I met her when I was around 8 years old, to a man she met whilst living in New York where she originally moved to live with me! The fact that she would never have met her fiancé Victor if I hadn’t convinced her to move there is really special for me as her friend. She’s wearing a vintage 1930s wedding dress and will look beautiful. It’s 9.30pm now which is way past my bed time these days (don’t judge me, I get up at 6 am everyday!) so it’s off to bed now, will be back soon…


  1. Another interesting and entertaining read. Thanks Peaches and best of luck prepping for your wedding, sounds like it’s going to be amazing. Where is that cool cat bag from? I want one!

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