Does anyone else feel like they have begun the new year in a fog? I didn’t know if it was the threat of the new and unknown variant of Covid, the chill of winter, or the ongoing longing for my writing to get out there into the world, but I have just felt a bitContinueContinue reading “February News”
Category Archives: Parenting
Circles, by Elisabeth Pike
Circles is a story of my journey with creativity and faith and talks about finding time to create whilst parenting and working, finding your voice, persistence, and believing in your crazy dream among other things. My faith is a big part of my life and the book also talks about faith to see the thingsContinueContinue reading “Circles, by Elisabeth Pike”
Hammock
Why I write about motherhood
I just want to put it out there that I’m not a self-certified expert on parenting by any means. I run courses on writing motherhood because I write, I always have done; it’s how I process my feelings – my grief, my joys, my disappointments, and it’s how I can convey my wildly fluctuating feelingsContinueContinue reading “Why I write about motherhood”
Writing about Type 1
I am a writer and I have written, pondered and grieved Type 1 a lot over the years. I write to process my emotions, I write around a subject when I don’t quite know what it is that I want to say. But the truth is that type 1 invaded our lives so thoroughly whenContinueContinue reading “Writing about Type 1”
Living with Type One – What it looks like
Note: I think there may be quite a bit of type 1 jargon in here. Apologies for that. Also a normal blood sugar (what we’re aiming for) is 4-8. I haven’t written that much about type 1 diabetes on here although I have intended to but two of the poems about Type One diabetes inContinueContinue reading “Living with Type One – What it looks like”
Space to Dream
A shortened version of this appeared in Third Way in April 2014: https://thirdway.hymnsam.co.uk/editions/april-2014/features/space-to-create.aspx It is rare to have the hush of an empty house all to myself. But right now all I can hear is the hum of the computer screen, the creak of a door being slammed outside, the footsteps of the cat coming inContinueContinue reading “Space to Dream”
How She Does It: Liz Pike | Studio Mothers: Life & Art
Great to have my work featured on this gorgeous US based blog Studio Mothers>> check it out! How She Does It: Liz Pike | Studio Mothers: Life & Art
Putting Your Work Out There: There You Are, 34 poems about Motherhood
Who are these crazy dreamers who plug away at something, for hour after hour on their own, believing that one day it will come to something? I am one of them, and although sometimes I feel deluded (!), I know that there is a quiet faith that my writing will see the light of dayContinueContinue reading “Putting Your Work Out There: There You Are, 34 poems about Motherhood”
There You Are – its here!
ITS HERE! My book of poems about motherhood that has been one year in the making has arrived! Order NOW and it will get to you in time for Christmas! Or order for a friend and I’ll ship it straight to them! I’ll also be selling these beauties at Condover craft fair on Saturday too.ContinueContinue reading “There You Are – its here!”
There You Are : its nearly here!
So excited that my book is nearly here! I have spent the past year hand lettering and illustrating a collection of 34 poems about motherhood. It will be arriving at the end of next week and *should* get to you for Christmas if you preorder! I will shout when they’ve arrived and they will beContinueContinue reading “There You Are : its nearly here!”
Type One
A poem about my daughter’s diagnosis with type one diabetes. This poem is in my book There You Are, a collection of 34 hand lettered and illustrated poems about motherhood. You can find it here.
For When We Don’t Know What is Coming: an unexpected diagnosis
We had just moved to the wilds of Shropshire, with a two-week old baby and two pre-schoolers, and everything was new. My husband was beginning to concentrate on his music full-time, and the two eldest children had just started in a new preschool. There was time for the dust to settle. But I still hadContinueContinue reading “For When We Don’t Know What is Coming: an unexpected diagnosis”
Trembling Heart
A poem about the night that my daughter was diagnosed with Type 1, back in 2013 when she was 2 and a half. I held you to me on the bed and smelt your hair, felt your lightness,as your father bustled in the darkness for your favourite things.We had been to the doctors thatContinueContinue reading “Trembling Heart”
Love Poem: Poetry prints by Little Bird Editions
My children exhaust me and bring me to the end of myself but they make me who I am and they were the ones who taught me to love. I have recently launched a collection of prints which are my own hand-letterings of some of my poems about the early years, when everything is aContinueContinue reading “Love Poem: Poetry prints by Little Bird Editions”
Snow Day!
First appeared in The Guildford Dragon in Winter 2012.. Snow! What a great diversion from normal life for parents and for littlies. What was a dreary, never-ending January suddenly became a winter wonderland, a magical world for children. Everything was different for a little bit. As the snow fell on Friday, my husband rushed intoContinueContinue reading “Snow Day!”
A Fairytale Castle Party And A Collapsing Thomas Cake
This first appeared in The Guildford Dragon, back in 2012… It seems that every other person I know has a birthday in February. Not sure why, but it definitely seems to be party season. A few months back, a friend and I decided to have a joint party for our girls who were born threeContinueContinue reading “A Fairytale Castle Party And A Collapsing Thomas Cake”
On budgeting and how much it really costs to raise a child
Another old blog post. Apparently bumbos are out of favour now so shows how quickly this post dated! Written in Autumn 2012 I remember when I was younger, blissfully ignorant of the realities of having children and announcing at work that I was broody and couldn’t wait to start having babies. I was only aboutContinueContinue reading “On budgeting and how much it really costs to raise a child”
Mondays
This is a really old article that appeared in The Guildford Dragon. It warms my heart to remember how demanding my two were and how hard I had to work to fill a day with them! It must have been written in Autumn 2012 I think.. Today I had that Monday feeling. Mondays in GuildfordContinueContinue reading “Mondays”
Coming down to Earth at the National Trust
Again this is an old article that I have dug out today. This was written in Autumn 2012 I think… Today we drove for an hour and a half to meet up with friends from our home town (by home town, I mean the one that I and my husband grew up in, the townContinueContinue reading “Coming down to Earth at the National Trust”
#3
On a train to Lime Street The fields rush by all green and yellow. For the first time we are going to a city for the day, diabetic daughter and I. Who would have thought when this thing showed up, how much it would overtake us, how from that day on, there would be fearContinueContinue reading “#3”
#1
Wind wraps around me like a blanket. In a blustery playground my boy has fallen asleep. And there is space and time, of a sort, standing hands in pockets, brook rushing by behind me, I hear it’s eddies and ripples, see the winter light brimming, spilling over, winding through the trees. All alone like IContinueContinue reading “#1”
#85
‘Mummy’, he whispers in my ear, ‘Come close to me’. He is full of cold. It is nice to be wanted by this boisterous boy for a change. He can normally do it all himself. I move my head to his press my cheek against his fluffy hair, and soon he breathes the deep rhythmContinueContinue reading “#85”
#84
She won’t sit still next to me on the sofa, she jumps all over it as everyone else lazes in that post tea-time lull. She has started to tell me her dreams. ‘There’s a blue train’, she says, ‘it’s gone off the rails, it’ going on the grass.’ Freedom, I think, for her, Her lifeContinueContinue reading “#84”
#81
We go in to the caves by torchlight, he leads the way. He loves being the leader, being the quickest, the fastest, always. We won’t let his dreams defeat him.
#80
Peace is how this feels: Something accomplished, And a space before me, a day, at least of just my little brood, my family. The pirates came and we had crazy fun, Water bombing that baddy pirate Pete. There were tears and laughs and shouts, A big chocolate cake And a sword each, buried in aContinueContinue reading “#80”
#79
A week full of school things and not enough sleep or headspace, and there are twelve little pirates coming to play on Saturday. I want it to be special for him but I have to admit I’ll be glad when it is done with.
#78
We go to ballet, and there she quickly changes into her tutu, picks up a star and dances around. They go on a magic carpet ride to the beach, they make a castle and smash it down. She comes alive, skipping around this room. There is magic in the lonely sound of this piano. ItContinueContinue reading “#78”
#77
I will do the garden this evening, pull the roots up from under the soil, shake the mud from them and pile them up in a bucket. There is nothing so therapeutic as gardening, and for a long time I didn’t know this.
#76
Cold back, happy heart. The boys fall into bed at 8.30. Sam has been at school all week, His first week. There have been tears each day from my love, My brave boy who was the biggest and loudest in the Preschool playground, who jumped the highest, who ran the fastest. Just next door, atContinueContinue reading “#76”
#75
And then the next day, driving down to Kidderminster, I am glad that we are together, not sad that I am wasting a day going all that way to fetch a car. Because after all, when you have children, what is time wasting anyway? We pick up the car, and drive back to a playgroundContinueContinue reading “#75”
#73
Sitting outside, listening to the beautiful noise coming from that shed. Tiny Leaves rehearses with his cellist. This is what summer is like, After two weeks of cold rain, I had almost forgotten. Mud covered children at dinner time, Finding potatoes like jewels in the mud. Birds singing still at 8.30, The fresh scent ofContinueContinue reading “#73”
#72
Tired tonight after friends staying, so they fall into bed, her clutching her pretend jewel, him dreaming through the stories. Littlest asleep in the other room already. Sometimes it works like clockwork and these little ones too tired to protest.
#70
They dream of jousting but when we are there, they are scared and can’t understand it is make-believe. We walk in circles through the maze find the secret tunnel and come up behind the waterfall. It is a magical day.
#69
I’ve said it before butI want it always to be like this:little people in command of their space, walking to the drawer to get paper,appearing at the doorway in funny hats.Calling ‘mummy’ in the night.This is their safe space,Their kingdom.
#68
Martha has us for lunch today; A table full of dishes carefully prepared. The children play with her childhood toys And bounce on her trampoline. I can remember that summer, that transition time; The leaving and settling as I went off to uni.
#67
We go to castle on the border, it rains and I remember that it rained the last time that we came too. We climb the winding stairs and they try on the chain mail, and they can’t believe how heavy it is. The rain clears and we go outside and they roll down the bank,ContinueContinue reading “#67”
#66
I am reading my blog, And find my first post, And realise it was four years ago today And realise also that it was the first time We saw her, on the ultrasound.
#65
I don’t know how to dress for this weather; pouring rain, then bright bright sun. I have a carload of sleepers and five minutes to spare. We have come to meet a friend at Attingham, but there is a tinge of sadness as I wait because all of these sixty-somethings that I see walking aroundContinueContinue reading “#65”
#64
Busy today, We go from thing to thing to thing. And quiet now, They have all gone. We watch red dry pictures of Australia on TV. We drink strong tea, feeling tired, feeling thankful, still that some days things are just normal.
#63
He has been drawing, drawing, drawing, this Sam. He is obsessive, like his father, he does not give up. He cries when I draw the wings of his dragon too small. He draws beautiful things: Monsters, houses hiding behind trees full of leaves, Pirates, a Daddy with a generous beard. We go out for anContinueContinue reading “#63”
#60
These children, they don’t sit down! They play, they fight, they colour and learn to ride a bike in one day. They jump off the slide, don’t sit still at dinner, can’t wind down enough even to watch TV. They talk all through the bedtime story, Because they keep thinking of things to say (soContinueContinue reading “#60”
#57
They go on a bear hunt today. Swishing through the long grass, hunting for gummy bears. They crawl under a willow dragonfly and then mould mud pies on their palms. They eat porridge cooked on a campfire in the burning sun. And afterwards, in the shade, They dip their toes in the cold, cold stream.
#56
They start at the bottom, Go a little way, Have us catch them. ‘Again’, they say, ‘A bit higher’ ‘Catch me!’ ‘Push me!’ We sledge at Inwood on steep grass banks. It lights up their eyes, Just as it surely did for us when we were young. And I realise that in so many waysContinueContinue reading “#56”
#55
It rings in my ears, the quiet in this house, here, now. I can sit down without wondering where Ben is or what he is chewing. I can hear children (not mine) shouting, two fields over. A car hums along the road. The rocking chair creaks as Joel sits down. He starts to talk, slowly,ContinueContinue reading “#55”
#54
We are blown away by this life, these words, this hope, this kindness. We must start to live differently.
#53
He screams in his high chair, sends the broccoli rolling onto the floor, says no to his drink, the banana. So I pick him up out of his chair, wash his hands, his face and hold him to me as we walk upstairs. Up there, he is a different boy, quiet and happy. I runContinueContinue reading “#53”
#50
He pulls the carrot from the ground, And is amazed at what he finds. The bright orange of it peeks through the soil which he shakes from it. ‘My carrot!’ he says. He sowed it, watered it, watched it grow and is pleased with himself now, pleased with what he finds.
#49
What have I loved most today? A day with nothing to do. Painting in the garden, tea and cake for elevenses. Three happy children, sun shining. They dance in the sprinkler, she sings ‘it’s summer!’
#48
After dinner I am sweeping the kitchen floor, when I turn and pick up the scent of fresh mint that drifts in the back door. Sam is waiting there, almost completely covered with it, the leaves trailing over his head, hiding, waiting for his Daddy to find him.
#47
Many times we have driven up this road, in desperation to get back, to rest, to frantically search for the place where we could slow down, where we could breathe deeply. But now in the blue shades of the sunset on the M40, we are driving home. And for once I am at peace withContinueContinue reading “#47”
#45
Today, Littlest is coming to light, Pushing up through the baby months, He is pointing and saying da. He crawls onto his brother’s bed And bounces with him, He crawls around after them in the hot sun. He knows he is like them, that he should be doing what they do, So he chews pensContinueContinue reading “#45”
#44
She whines after her nap, Fell asleep in the car with Daddy On their way back from Sainsbury’s But she shouldn’t sleep really, She’s too big. When she woke, Red cheeked, with hot tears, I told her Eva was coming, Her little friend, her cousin, And she stopped, just like that.
#43
It is the moments like this that you treasure when camping, that make it all worthwhile, The five-thirty wake up, And then, when you come outside, Like this, and you see the blue grey mist wrapping around the mountains, You see the light of dawn come blazing through, Like pure gold, And even though youContinueContinue reading “#43”
# 42
There is wonder in their eyes as they come face to face with the lobsters in their tank, scuttling across the floor, not much bigger than Ben. A touch of magic, of electric blue.
#41
We’ve set up camp, the children burble in their tent. ‘I want to sleep like this’ ‘the other day, last time, you said’ we mill around getting sweet things and cups of tea. There are cakes and pancakes to be eaten. Sheep bleat, the light falls.
#40
He won’t stay in bed. It is 8pm. I have been up since 6. I have to go to the supermarket. In two days we are going camping. I’m already exhausted. Sometimes, yes, it is too much.
#39
I took the fabric from my mother for these curtains, It came from her mother she said. In the daytime they look cream But at this time, the early evening or the morning, the leaves and prints come through, All delicate and secret until the light is just right.
#38
Sometimes we don’t even have time to say a word to each other, Don’t look at each other before we must attend to this or that, The fight or the nappy change or the insulin. And then after they sleep we each have our uphill journey to continue with. Music, writing, these dreams, we pullContinueContinue reading “#38”
#37
Sports day and she doesn’t know how to do it, She is shy and curls herself around my legs. She is in a running race but slows to look at me taking a picture, She stops short of the finish line and turns to see if I am still there.
#35
The kids are asleep and we’re like ‘quick! Tidy the house, get the dishes done, stand outside in the evening sunshine’. There must be some semblance of normality here, without the whirlwind, the half-thoughts, the avalanche of children. It is so good to have the sun on my face in the evening, to hear theContinueContinue reading “#35”
#34
There are toys strewn over the house, a pile of washing up, a garden full of the trail of a day’s play. Ben is not quite asleep, I listen to his little noises while I watch the news on low volume. The other two sleep, tired out by the sun. I can’t face tidying, OrContinueContinue reading “#34”
#33
He won’t be put down today, he eats only cool grapes and strawberries. He won’t sleep on his own bed, only next to me, his head wedged up against the pillow. He is sad and teary with teething today, and wants only to be held and touched. He wants to know I am there, thatContinueContinue reading “#33”
#31
I take chocolate, a cup of earl grey and my aching back up to my little writing room where I can pretend that I have all the time in the world to sink into ‘The Grapes of Wrath’, to look outside the window to the fading light. Three sleepy bodies are breathing heavily. My husbandContinueContinue reading “#31”
#30
Your face makes a shadow against the sun. You crawl over me, Pinning me to the earth, This moment, This place. I’m lying on the grass in the hot sun. The bells ring loudly this Sunday afternoon. I’m too tired to move.
#29
She whispers to me in her bed, in the half-light. She says ‘there’s a little car at Grandmas, I’ll show you, I’ll get it out of the shed.’ She is serious, her face set, her little eyes shining. I can’t remember why she started talking about the little car, or what it has to doContinueContinue reading “#29”
#28
Friday afternoon. A cup of coffee at a friends, a chocolate muffin, a rain shower. Two hours of only having to think about this sweet coffee, and talking with my friends. I am responsible for no one except myself. It is a calming thought. Children cry but they are not my own. My heart isContinueContinue reading “#28”
#27
Moments of peace today, Moments of crazy. Like when I say ‘If either of you gets out of your bed again, I’m going to lose the plot’. I’m too tired and I need a break, and also to work out how to do this thing called life, With three little ones, a husband, a cat,ContinueContinue reading “#27”
#26
He says he wants to make a cake with me. He flicks through the book, Says ‘there’s too many, I can’t choose’. He finally settles on a pavlova. We crack the eggs and whisk them, he says it tastes like marshmallow and I tell him off for licking his fingers. He smoothes out the greaseproofContinueContinue reading “#26”
#25
I have a helper in the garden today, she gets changed into her blue spotty dress, she holds the secateurs awkwardly as she tries to clip a branch out of the way. ‘I cant do it’ she says, ‘push me on the rope swing’. She drops the secateurs in the long grass, and turns andContinueContinue reading “#25”
#24
It is like a whirlwind in our house on a Monday, after a week away, when I am still trying to catch up with washing. Ben is his usual self, growing growing, learning to stand, To wave, to blow kisses. Ivy is self sufficient today- she potters in the garden with her teddies. She squealsContinueContinue reading “#24”
#23
We have never been to Glastonbury and wonder if there’s something we are missing. We watch it from the living room, mesmerised. The garden is beautiful today, in our absence it has changed. A hundred roses burst from their buds, The spinach flails wildly. Sam runs from bush to bush, Searching for raspberries, gooseberries, tomatoes.
#22
We say goodbye to the beach on a windy but clear night. He takes as many stones as he can carry. She flits like a bird, says I can see an eagle mummy. (She means seagull). I cram pictures onto my iPhone because I want to keep it like this. But I wonder if IContinueContinue reading “#22”
#21
There are gravelled paths, a snail parade across the way, blue slate walls and ferns looping over the path. We walk up and up and turn to see the blue arm of the river, freckled with white boats. A spring flows down next to the path. Everything is still in the afternoon and amber sun.ContinueContinue reading “#21”
#20
We walk over a hill under blue skies and down a track going deeper into the knotty woods. We try to wear them out before bed but they still have more energy than us. Run little ones, you will overtake us one day.
#19
We are defeated by the sun. The children are too hot and don’t go to sleep until 9. But still, but still, today there have been treasures- a car ferry, their belief suspended as we sailed out on the water- a cliff railway down to hot hot sands, good friends, a few raindrops.
#18
So beautiful. So good to have my expectations exceeded. The sun makes the sea sparkle, the children are happy. We are surprised by good things at Blackpool Sands, by the green trees just back from the shoreline, by the golden shingle, by the hidden cove. On the beach everyone dreams.
#17
I can’t even remember what I have done today. Except that I have had energy and I don’t know why. We went to the shop to buy holiday magazines, the children are wild with excitement.
#16
A good day. Ben is like clockwork. He sleeps, then wakes red faced and hair ruffled. He tells me what he wants all day long and I think it is a wonder, all that goes on inside him that I don’t yet know. I close the curtains and he says ‘a da da’ very definitely.ContinueContinue reading “#16”
#15
Sam went to school today For the first time, And then he wouldn’t tell me about it because he was too tired, And it reminded me of those days When I’d drop him off at preschool, Only three, And go to get him later, not knowing what he’d done, How he’d spent his five hours,ContinueContinue reading “#15”
#14
We keep worrying about our little girl who goes high and low like a roller coaster. She is only three, not old enough for any of this really. Still she is brave, much braver than me.
#13
Sometimes I want it to go on forever: this exhaustion in the summer evening, this ache in my belly of love for these little people who need me. The thought of them growing up is too painful to think about just now. Let’s pretend you will always come and sit on my lap for cuddles,ContinueContinue reading “#13”
#12
I forgot to write yesterday, too busy with these little ones who bring me so much joy, who make my back ache and who have taught me to love.
#11
It is times like these where the sun is kind in the morning, where it kisses your skin with sweetness, where your toes are damp from the morning dew, where the world just here is happy to be alive- these birds, these buzzing flies, these trees. Thankful is how I feel this morning, humbled toContinueContinue reading “#11”
#10
Wine bottle empty on the table, the TV on too loud, the lights too bright. I need sleep. It has been a loud night.
#9
You should have seen it today, a thousand raindrops battering on the Tarmac and shivering the leaves of the trees, making them louder, louder. I held my Benjamin at the open window, his eyes lit with wonder. You should have heard it tonight, here in our front room, the clatter and din of the churchContinueContinue reading “#9”
#8
It is half past nine when we step outside into our clear beautiful garden, and inhale a lungful of sweet night air. I pull the washing (still damp) from the line and you gather up those dirty and faded plastic toys that the kids have scattered around. We fold up the teepee, look at theContinueContinue reading “#8”
#7
Sunday night. Bruschetta, white wine spritzer, the children sleep.
#6
We are woken this morning by a rumble of thunder. You sit up in our bed and say ‘I’m not scared of thunderstorms anymore’. Later, there is a break in the rain and we walk through the farmers field behind our house. The sky is big and beautiful. It stops me in my tracks andContinueContinue reading “#6”
#4
It has been a crazy non stop day. There has been laughter and tears in the garden, fighting over the rope swing, a big four year old boy getting toys for his little brother, playing with him. There has been a scoot to the playground where the light was beautiful and clear, where we satContinueContinue reading “#4”
#1
They are bundled off to preschool this morning and there is space and time while littlest sleeps. But I am not writing yet, only reading. It rains and the sky is grey. We go to Grandmas and I am bursting to be out of my house, out of my smallness and as soon as we’reContinueContinue reading “#1”
Today
Today has been like a tree with high branches to sit or climb in. Treehouse tall. I have been scared and cried, I have felt my heart quake with worry, but I have seen a beautiful blue sky and walked in the sunshine too. Roots and branches, all different directions. That has been today.
Enough is enough
here in the evening, emptied out. here I am, sitting on the carpet, the debris of the day strewn around me like a fox has been at a rubbish bag. the baby squirms and wriggles on the sofa; he is not yet settled. I have not yet washed up, had a cup of tea, hadContinueContinue reading “Enough is enough”
July Thunder
We are at playgroup; the last of term in a heatwave. The grass has turned to straw, and the children run about in their swimming costumes. The colour goes out from the sky though, and there is a clap of thunder that makes us all jump. The rain falls on us like God is pouringContinueContinue reading “July Thunder”
Crying in Public Places
This time it is me again, in a room of friends or a room of strangers. At the door of my son’s preschool when he shouts ‘don’t like preschool’ the whole way there, and leaps from the buggy board and runs off down the road, and I hand him over, howling and I have toContinueContinue reading “Crying in Public Places”
Charterhouse
And what have I loved the most, this weekend? Walking out of the wedding speeches to see lovely Charterhouse at dusk, where the children ran and ran across the cricket green, their bare feet upon the wet lawn. And then today, on the blowy beach with blue-grey clouds on the horizon, where we paddled gingerlyContinueContinue reading “Charterhouse”
Stella del Mattino
Sitting in the car on a rainy day, waiting for you. One child calls ‘mummy, mummy’ from the back seat, the other breathes a slow, sleep-filled breath. Stella del mattino plays and this is the moment I can snatch to write a poem, A moment I had not seen before.
Happy
On a day where we thought it would rain incessantly, and it did not, we drove out to a garden centre and watched the electric blue fish dart around their tank and said ‘hello’ to Bobby the parrot, who having hopped down from his perch, was walking around, dragging his tail feathers, pecking people’s shoes. ContinueContinue reading “Happy”
A walk near Shere
‘Big, big muddy puddle!’ Sam said, over and over and he jumped in them until his shoes were wet through. Hail fell around us and the sky turned dark, but it felt good to be outside, even still. EDIT: This poem was eventually made into a poetry print. You can find it here. It alsoContinueContinue reading “A walk near Shere”
Home
As we travel back along the motorway with nothing in my head except for the buzz of the car, I can feel myself stretch and unfurl into the space that is before me. I think what next, and what of tomorrow, and what food do we have, and what can I cook for a change..
elisabeth pike 