Birthdays make you stop, don’t they? They sneak up, plant a candle-covered cake in front of you, and ask you to reflect.
Today I’m 62!
If you’d asked me years ago what 62 would feel like, I probably would have said it was the time to slow down. To settle. To take fewer risks. But life surprised me. At 62, I’ve never felt more alive, more determined, or more passionate about the future.
And here’s the twist: it’s not just about me. It’s about what I’ve learnt that might help you, too.
We live in a world that feels like it’s always rushing. Phones buzzing, emails stacking up, calendars filling before you’ve even turned the page. Children are growing up in this same world, surrounded by screens, with less and less space to simply be bored, to imagine, to play.
And when we’re caught in that pace, something precious slips away: connection. Connection to ourselves. Connection to our children. Connection to imagination.
I know this because I’ve felt it myself. For years, life was busy, structured, full of demands. Creativity didn’t have much of a place. And yet, when it finally did reappear, it changed everything.
Weebert’s World didn’t start as a business plan. It started with a tiny scrap-built robot.
Andy had been making robots out of old aviation parts and vintage pieces, and one day he made this little character no bigger than a can of beans. His head was a tiny vintage camera, his eyes were opera glasses, and his hair a tangle of copper wire. He wasn’t polished. He wasn’t shiny. But he had something better: he had personality.
I called him Weebert.
And almost without thinking, I sat down at the kitchen table and wrote his first story. It wasn’t about robots or gadgets or technology. It was about boredom. Because one of my grandchildren used to sigh and say, “I’m bored.” That simple phrase became a story of turning boredom into adventure.
Looking back, I think I was writing for myself as much as for them.
That was the spark. And it made me realise something: in a fast-paced, digital world, children need permission to imagine. But here’s the bit I didn’t expect … adults do too.
When we take Weebert and the other Berts into schools, we see the joy on children’s faces. Teachers tell us our visit is ‘magical, educational and motivational’ Parents write to say their kids go home and build robots from recycling.
But I’ve noticed something else: the adults light up too. They lean in, smile, and sometimes even have a go at creating their own Berts. Because imagination isn’t just for children. It’s part of being human.
And when life is rushing past, imagination is what grounds us. It slows us down. It connects us.
That’s why we’re building Weebert’s World. Yes, we’re working towards a UK stop motion children’s TV series. Yes, there will be books, school workshops, and characters galore.
But at its heart, Weebert’s World is the gentle antidote to a world that moves too fast.
It’s about giving families a reason to pause. To play. To make something from nothing. To tell a story together. To remember that imagination doesn’t cost anything, and it never runs out.
So today, on my 62nd birthday, my wish isn’t really for me at all. It’s for you.
I hope you find a little more time to slow down. I hope you give your children … and yourself … permission to play. I hope you rediscover imagination in the smallest of places: a walk, a story, a piece of scrap that becomes a robot.
Because if a tiny robot no bigger than a can of beans can spark a whole new world, just imagine what you and your family could spark when you let imagination lead the way.
💛 Lotty x
