Today we took my poorly Mum, Blake and my youngest sister Nina for a lovely trip to Brockholes Village, just off junction 31 of the M6. Even though I’m originally a Preston native I hadn’t heard of this place until I saw a TV advert last week. It’s a wildlife nature reserve that’s been open since Easter last year.

Mainly housing birds and aquatic life, this place is perfect for a stroll… as I realised too late, once we had got there. I was dressed like the older, fatter reject from The Saturdays (think shocking pink jeans and sky high wedges) and got a few sly looks from the outdoorsy types sporting walking boots, waterproofs and those stick things that look like ski poles.

I wasn’t phased though. We had a date with the restaurant for Sunday lunch and cake. After our lunch, I got a gingerbread man to share with Blake but I forgot you can’t possibly share biscuits or anything treat wise with a toddler. I broke the gingerbread man into share size pieces and it was like the world, for Blake, had just ended around him. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him so upset! I felt terrible. To him I’m sure I’d practically murdered his gingerbread man in front of his tiny eyes. It was an awful moment having my mum and sister chastise me for my insensitive behaviour but Blake then happily joined in to tell me “Naughty Mummy!”.

We perused the gift shop, visited the toilets far too many times (the joys of potty training), did some colouring and Blake even met a snake, toad and some newts.

It started to pour (which made me feel better about my lack of appropriate attire) and a walk round the reserve dissolved into a dreary disappointment. The weather aside, we still had a great time spending precious moments with family which is always the most important thing.

This is not a sponsored post.