Parenting: a lesson in contradictions.

Parenting is hard. No question about it.  Just because people have been doing it for years it doesn’t mean it’s got any easier.  In many ways the practicalities have simplified due to technological advancement (microwaves, slow cookers, televisions, smart phones, computers) but the really hard things about parenting have not changed at all.  In fact some of those technological advances are the cause of many of the new difficulties.  We live in the Information Age. Back in the day, you brought your children up how your mother and your grandmother brought you up, to a greater or lesser extent.  Now extended families have dissipated and isolated parents turn to chat forums and Dr Google to work out what’s best.  The trouble is that most of these things present the greyscale world in sharply defined tones of black and white.  Real parenting is about balance, compromise, subtlety. Internet Parenting is about right and wrong, and often contradictory.

But you know it’s all there in black and white.  It should be easy, shouldn’t it? Let’s take a look at the helpful advice you can use as a parent today.

It starts when you have a baby.  Natural birth with the fewest amount of painkilling medicine is the best way to do it, but of course if you had to have an epidural or a caesarian that’s ok if it was necessary, although if you’d gone about giving birth properly it probably wouldn’t have been necessary, so you have probably failed.    If you didn’t manage to Do It Properly then it’s your fault.  If you did manage to Do It Properly then you are self-righteous and annoying.

You must breastfeed the baby, because breastfeeding is best, and you must do it in public so that other people know it’s acceptable, except when they are telling you it’s not, when you must show some degree of decorum.   You must breastfeed to do the best thing for your baby unless your baby doesn’t follow the semi-arbitrary lines on the growth chart when you must immediately switch to formula feeding. If you formula feed you are Doing it Wrong unless you couldn’t breastfeed in which case you are Doing It Right, but only if you tried to breastfeed properly first, otherwise you are Doing It Wrong.  Both methods of feeding your baby are right unless the person you are talking to disagrees with you.

You must spend the first six days/weeks/months with the baby in your room in order to establish a bond and to avoid SIDs.  But you mustn’t put baby in your bed because of SIDs. However if you know what you are doing you can put the baby in your bed and this is the best and safest place for it to sleep.  The best place for the baby to sleep is in its own room so it learns to sleep independently, but if you put it there it will be emotionally scarred for life.  Never leave a baby to cry, but make sure you give it the opportunity to cry to help it learn how to put itself to sleep.  Of course it’s not possible for a baby under 3 months/6 months/a year/six to learn to put themselves to sleep, but you can teach a baby to sleep from the age of 3 months/6 months/a year/six to put itself to sleep if you use the right method.  You can use spaced soothing, crying it out, pick up put down, controlled crying or shh pat. None of these are harmful to your baby but all or some of them are harmful to your baby.  If you don’t use them your baby will never sleep.  If you do use them your baby will grow up with no confidence or self-esteem and may be permanently damaged.  If you don’t get your baby to sleep you may be permanently damaged.  A happy baby makes a happy parent.  A happy parent makes a happy baby.  Babies are never happy.  Normal babies sleep through from six months. Normal babies don’t sleep through until they are six years old.

Babies thrive on routines but you can’t put a baby into a routine.  You can put a baby into a routine but if you do it means you don’t listen to your baby.  Your baby will eat and sleep well and be happy when in a routine but at the cost of their future mental health.

When you wean your baby, feed it the same things you eat, but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t like the things you eat. You will know your baby is ready for weaning when they can look at food/grab at food/hold food/throw food/sit up/stand up/do the hokey-cokey.  Food is just for fun until they are one so it doesn’t matter how much they eat but if they don’t eat they will become iron-deficient.   If you wean too early your baby may develop allergies. If you wean too late your baby may develop allergies. Your baby may develop allergies anyway.

Talk to your children all the time.  Use lots of language to broaden their vocabulary and increase the development of their speech.  Don’t use too much language as they will get confused and their speech development will be slower.  If your baby isn’t talking don’t worry too much, it’s probably within the wide range of normal.  If your baby isn’t talking you must immediately seek help as this is a red flag for certain disorders.  Developmental health checks are really important so any issues can be flagged up quickly, but your health visitor knows nothing and you should ignore everything they say.  Health visitors are an important source of knowledge.

You must expose your developing child to technology because in this modern world they need to know how to use it, but they should not spend too much time on there as it’s not good for their brains.  Apps can be good for brain development and co-ordination. But if they spend too little time outdoors and too much time on computers their co-ordination will suffer.  Children today need to be educated to survive in the modern world with its computing technology. Children today spend too little time outdoors simply playing and exploring.

Outside play is hugely important. You must let your children spend hours outdoors playing, preferably unsupervised.  Never let your children play outside unsupervised. You must let your children take risks in order to grow and develop and understand their limitations. If you let your child take risks they will break their neck falling from badly maintained play equipment; be burned by giant hogweed; drown in two inches of water or be abducted the second you turn your back.  Give your children opportunities to be independent and do things alone. Never let them do anything alone.

You must be present and involved to show you care about your child.  Helicopter parents who care too much about their children are stunting their development.  Give your child plenty of space to grow but not so much space they feel neglected. Somewhere there is an optimum amount of space but nobody knows what that is.

As a mother you should put your children first.  As a mother you should put yourself first.  If you go back to work you will not be spending enough time with your children, but if you don’t go back to work you will be setting them the wrong example about women and the workplace.

Children need boundaries and discipline. Discipline is very important.  Disciplining your child is wrong and you should only use positive reinforcement.  Positive reinforcement will mean your child has no sense of boundaries and will have no respect for anyone.  Children who are disciplined are too respectful and fearful of authority.  If you are too harsh on children they will become delinquent teenagers.  If you are not harsh enough on children they will become delinquent teenagers.  Isolating children gives them time to think about their behaviour and modify it. Isolating children makes them feel alone and ashamed and has no impact on behaviour.  Reasoning with your spirited child is the best strategy in the long term, but will have no effect in the short term.  Immediate consequences are the best strategy in the short term but will not be effective long term.

I’m sure there are many other examples, but in short it’s a minefield, both practically and emotionally.  The only advice I would give to any new parent these days is go with your gut.  There are a lot of ways to parent a child wrongly but also lot of ways to parent a child right. If you care enough to be thinking these issues through, chances are you’re a Good Parent. Stick with your instincts and revel in the absurdity of all this contradiction.

Sleep Decorated Virtual Summer Camp

The six weeks summer holiday and the choral chime of “I’m boooooored” from your kids – Every parent’s kryptonite.

Hours drag into days, the clock ticks ever slowly…. and you’ve got restless children begging to be entertained by their frazzled parents despite the fact they have every toy under the sun at their disposal. “Only boring people get bored” was what my own mother used to say to me when I complained of being bored, but I’m not sure that’d work on my 2 year old…

The friendship group that Sleep Decorated derived were all in panic-mode, wondering how we would cope with entertaining our little darlings for the holidays. And from that we came up with an idea…

We’d each plan some activities to share, so we didn’t have to think up entertainment for our individual families every day. Sort of like a Sleep Decorated Pinterest board for go-to activities.

And so our Sleep Decorated virtual Summer Camp was born!

Up first…. INSECTS.

Check back soon for activities galore to capture the attention of your little bug-hunters; baking spider cupcakes, making butterfly pizzas, watching caterpillars grow into butterflies, creating an insect sensory tub and going on a bug hunt, and more besides.

The Trouble With Topsy and Tim

The arrival of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse is near, signifying End of Days. Nearer than you might think perhaps, being this Autumn. This much feared and terrifying event, accompanied by signs, portents and celestial phenomena is known in layman’s terms as The New Series of Topsy and Tim. But before you pick up the phone to tell people you love them, or run to Tesco to stockpile provisions, let us take a moment to understand what we’re facing.

Now I’m all for any sort of kid’s programme that will keep my darlings entertained for 10 minutes while Mummy does *important housework* (Facebook). Hey Duggee, Andy’s Dinosaurs, Clangers, even the freak show that is Kate and Mim Mim, are all fine with me. I do however, draw the line at the abomination that is Topsy and Tim.

I grew up reading the books, and still love them, so why would I rather eat my own shoes rather than have to look at the CBeebies version. Here it is in list form:

1. Topsy and Tim are supposed to be preschoolers, and start school in one recent episode. They are the only 4 year olds I’ve ever seen with a full set of adult teeth. They quite clearly are at least 8. Which probably explains why they aren’t having a meltdown over the fact that the Frozen bowl is in the dishwasher, and instead politely articulate that they’d ‘simply love some porridge Mummy!’

2. They are called Topsy and Tim. Yes, those are their names, but their parents use them continually. Try and think back to the last time you used one of your immediate household’s actual name to their face. See.

3. Their automaton parents. To say they lack personality is an understatement. It’s like someone typed ‘parents’ into the world’s most unimaginative 3d printer, and out they came. They are scarily calm and chipper in all situations. So much so that you could imagine Topsy and Tim coming home with a severed head and they’d smile warmly and say ‘Twintastic! Just remember to clean up the blood stains Topsy and Tim!’

4. The Nit episode. Topsy and Tim come home with nits. Instead of screaming ‘For goodness sake!’ and ringing her husband’s mobile while he’s at work, having a cry down the phone while asking him to buy all the nit lotion in Tesco on the way home (or indeed just doing it herself, dragging nitty kids round the chemist), their mum smiles indulgently and takes them upstairs to calmly and lovingly comb conditioner through their hair. They sit still and happy during this process without the aid of a tablet, or Frozen on repeat. No yelling ‘Mummy you’re ruining my life!!’, or running off flicking conditioner and nits from one end of the house to the other.

5. They teach my kids bad things. Every episode there’s something! My daughter didn’t realise you could get out of bed after lights out until she watched the episode in which Topsy and Tim creep down the stairs and creepily watch their parents having dinner with their friends. All the way through I was having to loudly exclaim how naughty they were being in the frantic hope that it wouldn’t sink in. They’re always doing stuff like that, except for when they’re being perfect…how does that work?!?

6. When Mr Rosen died in their front room. Except he didn’t, and the possibility of a quality episode was sadly overlooked.

7. It’s horrendously sexist. Topsy makes cupcakes with Mummy, while Tim is told he has to go outside and do Quad Bikes instead. Mummy and Topsy do the housework, while Daddy and Tim do ‘men’s jobs’. What even is a ‘man’s job’?? It’s 2015. Have we learned absolutely nothing?? I hope Topsy becomes a Champion Quadbiker and Tim the world’s finest chef. That’ll wipe the inane smiles off their parents’ faces.

8. Their sitting room in the new house has a weird , blocked off wall where any real house would have patio doors. Probably they’re just trying to hide the portal to the underworld. Probably.

So there it is. Some of the vast number of reasons why the new series of Topsy and Tim will end Life As We Know It. So give those loved ones a call, pack up your emergency rations, and hopefully I’ll see you on the other side….

Big School: Big Changes

My three year old is starting school in September. He will turn four just four weeks before the start of term. He had his first “settle-in” session at big school last week. I use quotations marks for settle-in as it was anything but settling. Actually, it was horrific.

He stood in a queue alongside me outside a classroom in a playground he’d never been in, surrounded by children he didn’t know. We get to the doorway of the classroom and the teacher gleefully asks him his name. He growls at her like a dog, instead of speaking. I speak for him. She asks if he’d like to wear his name badge. He hides behind my leg. I gently coax him further into the busy classroom, to play with the play-doh and the train set which have all been carefully set out to capture the children’s attention. There are children everywhere, and very few adults. It feels very manic, very disorganised. He starts to play with a train when a teacher approaches and suggests I leave as he’s happily playing…

And then it began…. the mere suggestion of me leaving him in an unknown place with no idea of what’s happening next sends him into a blind panic, the tears start flowing from his beautiful blue eyes, and an almighty meltdown ensues.

I bent down to his level and explained I had to go home, I would be back later and he could play with all of these lovely toys. He screamed, he begged me not to leave, he cried a river of tears, he clung to my leg… eventually the teacher prised him off my body and held him as I walked away, now just managing to fight back the tears myself.

I got out of the classroom and just out into the playground when I heard him shouting “Mama” and looked back to see him high-tailing it out of the door towards me, weaving through the legs of parents dropping their children off, while the teacher tried to keep up with him. I escorted him back to the classroom, back to the teacher’s grasp, and all my mothering instincts were screaming at me to just take him home. I watched her shut the door behind her, whilst holding my little boy around the waist, his arms and legs flailing as he tried to escape her grip, and him repeatedly shouting “Mama, don’t go”. He kicked her while he was struggling, and he tipped his drink over her too. Horrific.

It was traumatic for him; it wasn’t a seamless, gentle introduction to school life. It was more a baptism of fire. I could barely breathe through the tears when I got back to my car, I felt like I had broken all of the trust I had built up with my son by just leaving him when he needed me. My inner lioness wanted to throw my head back and roar til he was back in the safety of my arms.

And throughout all this I knew we had to face it all again the next day, for his second and final settle-in session before he starts in September properly.

That afternoon we talked positively about school, we talked about his teachers and the classroom and the class guinea pigs and the children he’d met. I explained that it’s ok to feel nervous in your tummy and a bit scared of new things, but it’s not ok to kick out in anger. We had a big cuddle while he told me he didn’t like me leaving him when he felt sad, and I held him tight. He went to bed happier.

12.30pm the following day arrived. This time we were prepared. This time it wasn’t a completely unknown entity for him. Armed with his toy cat Cuthbert firmly in his possession and tightly holding a sandwich bag filled with laminated numbers (specially made that morning by Marie, his nursery keyworker), he marched confidently into the classroom.

He still growled like a dog at the teacher greeting us when she suggested he wear his name label, but he didn’t hide behind my legs. He trotted over to the teacher, who yesterday had to prise him off me, and thrust the sandwich bag into her hand saying “I’ll show you how to count, you didn’t know yesterday”. She sat with him, animated and exaggerating her delight at his little sandwich bag, and he spread his numbers out across the table with her.

She nodded to me to leave, so I kissed him and said “Mama will come back later after you’ve had your story, just like I did yesterday” and his bottom lip wobbled. I braced myself, ready for the meltdown to come, and said “You’ve got your Cuthbert and your numbers, you’ll be just fine”. He looked up at me from his chair and said “Ok Mama, see you later” and turned back to his numbers.

I turned and left, my heart filled with an array of emotions…. Pride, trepidation, anxiety at leaving him…. But mostly just pure overwhelming relief.

He is a creature of habit, a child who likes routine and structure. This time he knew where the classroom was, he knew he needed to stand in line before going in, he knew he was going to be greeted at the door by a teacher…. all these things he didn’t know the day before, but he was now aware of and was ready for. Knowledge is power, and he needs to know what’s happening next to feel remotely at ease.

He also forms attachments to objects and loves numbers, so his keyworker sending him with his very own pouch of numbers made a whole world of difference. She went above and beyond her role to support him in this transition, and I cannot express my thanks to her enough.

We went out for pizza after school, just me and him, to celebrate how well he’d done and he was so proud of himself.

Hearing him scream for me and not being able to scoop him up and bring him home was honestly the worst moment of my motherhood journey. I was mortified that he’d kicked his teacher and embarrassed that this out-of-character scene was her first impression of my usually confident, clever, funny little boy. But mostly I was just heartbroken that he was having to go through such a big change at such a young age, and that he was struggling so much.

A lovely friend of mine, from the group our Sleep Decorated blog page was set up from, posted my Bear a book all about starting school. It has been an excellent help already, he has enjoyed reading it and really identifies with the situations and emotions described.

The school also gave all the children a booklet with photos of the teachers, classrooms and gardens to take home with them after their second settle-in session. These two objects, along with his now much-loved sandwich bag of laminated numbers, will hopefully aid his transition to school and give him a visual reference over the over the summer holidays.

With lots of talking, reading and reassurance from us at home I’m certain he will be marching excitedly into that classroom come September full of confidence and with the thirst for learning I know he already possesses. His school journey hasn’t had an easy start, and there’s going to be many more learning curves ahead – he can’t have his usual 2 hour afternoon nap at school! – but we’ll get there. Together.

Big school: Big changes for my very sensitive little boy. And for me.

I Don’t Want To Battle Anymore

A common mantra thrown about by parents, myself included, is to “pick your battles” with your children.

But I am tired of fighting. And tired of mostly losing to a three and two year old.

I don’t want my relationship with my children to be a fight someone has to win. I don’t want to put them to bed and only then can I take off the armour I’ve wearing all day. I want my parenting to be about nurturing and loving and facilitating and giving as many opportunities to my children as possible. And I can’t do that when I’m waking up every morning and prepping myself like a solider about to charge into battle with an enemy. It’s fight after fight after fight, and ultimately me ending up feeling rail-roaded by two pre-schoolers. And I didn’t know how to fix this.

So instead of trying to fix the constant battling, I made a decision.

I’ve tried to change my headspace. I’ve tried to forego the term ‘battle’ and changed to simply allowing my children to have choices they can make for themselves. Little choices, but choices which allow them autonomy over their day.

I don’t argue anymore if they want to wear their Batman and Robin costumes to the park. I just allow them the choice of what to wear. What’s the big deal if they wear them instead of shorts? I no longer try to coerce them into walking nicely by my side on the way into dancing. I just allow them the choice to move how they want. Who cares if they prance and skip along the completely pedestrianized path in front of me? I don’t care if they take the sticks they’ve collected from the garden to bed with them, as long as they go to bed on time. What’s it matter? It doesn’t really, does it? Not in the grand scheme of things.

I’m not ‘giving in’ or ‘being lazy’ by doing this. I’m not ‘turning a blind eye’ or ‘letting them get away with murder’. The important stuff, the keeping them safe and out of danger parts of our day, are still decided by me – but with their input. By simply giving them choice and allowing them control over minuscule parts of their day, parts which aren’t big deals to me but to them feel like the world, it gives them ownership over their decisions and makes them feel independent. And that independence leads to them being far more receptive over other matters during the day, matters which would’ve usually been met with a meltdown or at best a tantrum.

There are certain aspects to our day which are non-negotiable. They must brush their teeth; oral hygiene is important, I’m not having kids with manky teeth! But they get to choose what song I sing while they’re brushing, and they get to brush (I use the term ‘brush’ lightly) first before I give their teeth a proper once-over myself.

They have to wear their helmet on their bikes and scooter; I’m not having them beat their heads open like watermelons on a pavement just because they threw a hissy-fit over having their helmet on. But they have a choice and they get to choose – either wear the helmet or don’t go on your bikes and scooters. Simples.

They have to hold my hand to cross the road; end of chat, no question about it. But they can choose which hand to hold and they can choose to walk holding my hand or be carried across the road. Up to them.

The change in my own feelings and our family dynamics when I actively adopt this approach and give clear choices to them is massive. Our day is much more pleasant, I don’t shout (as much) as I did before, I don’t feel like I’m failing as a mum or that my children are permanently disobedient creatures for ignoring my pleas. I’m not begging, coercing, bribing or threatening anywhere near as much. It just feels better, like I’m not having to fight them all day long. I don’t manage it every day, some days I feel like I’ve been recruited for some undercover MI5 mission and am in some kind of relentless training programme, but I am trying. I am trying to stop the battle.

I’m not a warrior, they aren’t my opponents. We are a team. I want to be able to stand alongside my children, not face up against them ready for battle.

The Childhood Obesity Crisis: Is Fat Shaming the Answer?

The other day a friend was quite rightly in tears over a letter that had been sent home from school. It said that after a recent health check, her daughter had been found to have entered the ‘overweight’ category for BMI. By 900 grams. No other help or information was offered in this letter.

Another friend heard a mum on the school run, take a letter from her little boy and say ‘oh what’s that? A letter to say you’re a fatty?’

There is an obesity crisis in Britain, we get it hammered into our brains at every turn. And it is certainly true that obesity in children is a serious issue that needs addressing. But is sending home shaming letters the answer? In my opinion, no. I am a person who struggles with my weight and have suffered from various eating disorders in my teens, so I feel I have a modicum of insight about what needs to happen to tackle this problem. Fat shaming leads to nothing but a surge in eating disorders, and a continuance of the obesity crisis. Young children are incredibly vulnerable to criticism and humiliation. There surely must be another way?

Firstly we need to look at who is to blame.

1. The parents.

Children don’t mysteriously become overweight by themselves. They don’t go shopping or cook, so the blame cannot be laid with them. Parents have a very serious responsibility. Just as we teach our children to cross the road safely, the same importance should be placed on teaching them how to eat properly. Some parents are the products of generations of disadvantage, lack of education and hardship, resulting in them passing on this lack of awareness to their own offspring. Others might be extremely busy, getting home from work too late to do anything else but grab convenience food. These things are extremely entrenched and difficult to overcome, especially with no help.

2. Social problems.

As mentioned above, many families are in a position of disadvantage. They have low incomes, lack of education, lack of appropriate support and have no idea about how to eat properly. I live in an area such as this. A large cheesy chips is £1.80 at my local chippy. A McDonald’s Happy Meal is £2.49. When you only have a pound or two, and no awareness of a better option, then this is the option chosen time after time.

3. Lack of exercise.

When we were kids, we were out and about, riding our bikes, running around in the garden, being physically active. We didn’t have the sheer volume of technology at our disposal, so TV would get boring and we’d head outside. Today we have entertainment at our fingertips. Children have an infinite number of TV channels, computer games and apps on tablets and mobile phones. Children are often living in environments where it’s not as safe to be out playing or riding bikes. Many community play areas have been closed. Thousands of acres of green fields have been built on by housing companies. Sports have to be paid for, a visit to the swimming pool is often beyond the capability of a low income family.

4. Supermarkets promoting junk food.

 

Walk into any supermarket and you are bombarded with junk food. They put it by the door, on the ends of aisles, everywhere that’s its easily seen and ‘grabable’. The manufacturers pay for this to happen. Their food is promoted above anything else. Usually accompanied by an offer, Buy 1 get 1 Free! Packaged in a way that’s vastly appealing to children. Who hasn’t had ‘Mummy I want one of those!’ during the weekly shop? Fruits and vegetables are not given the same supermarket treatment.

5. Society’s negative focus.

Being fat is bad, skinny is good, it doesn’t matter how you get there. Be Beach Body Ready! Lose 10lb in 10 days! Being chubby equals lazy, ugly, stupid. Our children see these statements screamed at them from magazines, newspapers, the internet. They are brainwashed. And they believe it. Scrutinising their bodies at such a young age leads to poor self esteem, which in turn can lead to eating disorders.

Doesn’t it seem ludicrous that the government think this can be solved by sending home a letter such as the one mentioned at the beginning of this blog! That they, and many people, think the obesity crisis can be solved by telling children they are overweight!

Many things need to happen, some of which are:

1. Proper, extensive help for families.

The entire family unit needs to be taught how to cook cheap, tasty and healthy meals from scratch. This isn’t easy if you have no idea, but I know of several people including myself, who have taught themselves to cook for the sake of their children. To do this education is needed. Children need to have lessons at school, showing them the types of food available, what they taste like, how they are used, how they are grown. Lessons also could be given to parents, on how to cook, the benefits of eating well, how to shop effectively. Low income families could be given recipies that cost less per person than a bag of chips. Jamie Oliver had a programme last year which claimed to show us how to cook on a budget. Unfortunately he was on another planet to those of us on low incomes, suggesting buying joints of beef for £12. Now while this made many meals, and worked out to be cost effective, he didn’t take into account the fact that poor families don’t have £12 all at once to spend on beef. So realistic costings need to be done.

He greatly redeemed himself though by starting Jamie’s Food Revolution. Which is a campaign to put compulsory practical food education on the school curriculum. This is the type of effort that has the best chance of turning the tide of the childhood obesity crisis. For more information see his website http://www.foodrevolutionday.com

2. Accuracy from the government.

I was appalled to see the Change 4 Life leaflet, currently being given out by the government by Health Visitors and Health Professionals, about healthy foods for children. It advised swapping full fat milk, cheese and yoghurt, for low fat. Nutritionally there is no reason to do this! These things have a very important place in a balanced diet for children. Low fat, and diet food often have more sugar and additives and are much worse for children. The government should be encouraging a cleaner, balanced diet that includes as much full fat, unprocessed food as possible, alongside brown carbs, meat and lots of fruit and veggies. If the official line on healthy eating is flawed, then how on earth are parents supposed to interpret what is actually correct!

More money should be poured into vouchers for free swimming or exercise opportunities instead of these inaccurate leaflets!

3. A focus on being healthy and active, for ourselves and our children.

There are many ways we can be active as a family for free:

Bike riding – bikes can be acquired very cheaply from second hand pages, also worth watching Freecycle in your area in case any free ones come up.

Walking – needn’t be boring! We geocache as a family (rock and roll!), which makes an outdoor ramble extra exciting. Download the app from https://www.geocaching.com/play

Ball games in the garden or park.

Dancing! Put on some music and get grooving!

Building these activities into our lifestyle will be setting our children up for a lifetime of activity, which in turn will keep them strong and healthy.

4. Changing our own warped view of body image

Instead of the focus being on skinny celebrity bodies, we need to celebrate all body types. We are all different; short, tall, thin, curvy, muscular, the list goes on. The most important thing is that we are active and as healthy as we can be. We as adults need to get this message into our heads, and pass it to our kids. If we are still dreaming of the unachievable, dieting to excess, bingeing, down on our bodies at every turn, then this is what we’ll pass to our children. They aren’t stupid. If they see us saying ‘it doesn’t matter what you look like’, and then refusing food, or crying in front of the mirror, they will see what we truly believe. Labeling foods as ‘bad’ will only lead to fixation on those forbidden foods. Instead why not explain how certain foods are for ‘sometimes’ and other foods for ‘every day’. This is a simpler way of showing children why a diet of crisps isn’t ideal, but without the guilt and the wrong message that ‘this food is bad’ brings. Its perfectly fine to enjoy McDonalds, crisps, cake and sweets occassionally as part of an otherwise balanced diet.

Some of us grew up with the rule ‘clear your plate’. This has been a major cause of eating problems in later life. No one should have to force food down. We need to re-engage our stomach’s messages to our brain. When we feel full, we should stop eating, even if some food is left. I truly believe if we can teach this to our children, it will be setting them up for a lifetime of sensible eating and portion control.

Limit the amount of photoshopped images your children see in magazines, on TV and the Internet. Have ongoing discussions about how these images aren’t real. Encourage them to appreciate people for different characteristics; strength, sporting ability, kindness, intelligence, humour etc. Again, they will learn better by example, seeing you look beyond the exterior.

I’ve only touched on a few ways in which we can help rear healthy and strong children. And I understand my suggestions are simplistic and idealistic, but surely less so than sending a single letter home and expecting change. If you find yourself with one of the letters mentioned, then you can do one of two things. Get upset, or chuck it in the bin and focus on some of the above points. I know which one I’ll be doing…

Patience

In the words of the mighty Mr Barlow and Take That, I really need to have a little patience.

I actually need heaps of patience. Ok, if we are putting orders in for deliveries, just bring me a lorry full of the stuff!

Patience is not a virtue I was blessed with, and I have little of it in all walks of life. On a scale from 1 to crazy, I am Britney Spears ‘shaving-her-head breakdown crazy’ regularly in queues in the shops. And those self-scanners in Supermarkets are my nemesis… they’re supposed to be quicker, they lure me in, and then every single poxy thing I scan needs approval, thus taking significantly longer with two feral kids in tow. Why? Why?!?!? They suck me in and fail me every time.

Not good for my already thin-on-the-ground composure

levels.

 

How does one learn to have more patience, though? I can’t purchase it on eBay, I can’t walk into my local Supermarket and go through the (hellish) self-scan checkouts to buy a bundle of it. I’ve read parenting books, I try deep breathing and counting to ten, I try to be understanding and gentle with an air of calmness, but the fact remains that I display none of these traits naturally.

My husband has endless patience, he is calm and cool and rarely shouts, yet I possess the complete opposite skill-set when my two boys whine “I caaaaaaaan’t doooooo itttt” or refuse to do as I’ve asked. It’s not how I want to parent, I don’t want my children to grow up with the same tolerance levels as I have, but I have no idea how to adapt my ways. And that leaves me feeling overwhelmed, frazzled and, quite frankly, a little bit desperate.

 

Is being more tolerant something that can be learnt, or i

s my only hope a fairy godmother in a Disney-esque scene who hears my silent plea and floats in on a fluffy white cloud with a sparkly wand to sprinkle me with glittery patience dust? We live in a society which is full of shortcuts, ready-made, instant, and fast. Is my patience a sign of the times or just a personality flaw? Answers on a postcard please….

 

(By the way, if the fairy godmother does bring me some patience do you think she could also bring me Harmony’s magical 50p from The Queen’s Nose and Hermione Granger’s time turner from Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban?! Then allll my problems would be solved!)

 

In times of austerity…

‘I hate money!’ Have you ever heard yourself exclaiming those words? For many of us, we often feel this way. The reality is that I don’t hate money itself, I’d actually love to see some more of the stuff! Its the stress, worry and injustices that surround it that frustrate me. In today’s political climate, it seems that more and more of us are having to tighten our belts. Others of us worry about how we are going to scrape together money for basic necessities. Still others are facing much worse.

One of my ongoing, deep hearted worries is how living in a low income family will affect my children. Will they feel excluded from things other children enjoy like dancing lessons, swimming lessons, anything in fact that charges a fee? They already miss out. We are the family who rarely, if ever go to soft play, who take a flask instead of going to Costa Coffee, who can’t find the money to go swimming, who buy shoes from eBay, who holiday rarely and in a caravan, who live in a house in a less than desirable area, which is in need of major refurbishment, who have to think twice about putting the heating on, who only get meat based meals 3 times a week if that, who pray that the appliances won’t break, who have not even spoken the words ‘savings account’ for many years, and who are only a whisker away from total ruin.

But we are happy for three reasons:

1. Material possessions do not matter. People on their deathbeds rarely say ‘if only I had accumulated more things’. Its the love, the family time and the attention that people remember. That children remember. My little ones couldn’t care less that the wallpaper is coming off the walls, or that its jacket potato and beans for tea. They care if I sit down and read to them, if we go out on a walk and find 3 different leaves, if we dance around the kitchen to our favourite songs, if we cuddle in bed and tell stories. Loving our children is what matters most, and that costs nothing.

2. It teaches valuable lessons. Of course its perfectly possible, and admirable to learn the principles of how to best manage your money if you are from a family with enough. But the practical application of the lesson is ingrained in those of us who grew up in families where money was scarce. Children learn the importance of earning, saving, and wisely spending money, its value. And this is one of life’s most important lessons.

3. Most of us still have it easy compared to others. We have what is considered a low income, but we have a roof over our heads, food every day, the means to wear clean clothes and have clean bodies. Unfortunately, even in this country, this is not the case for many families. The Trussell Trust who are a Foodbank charity have seen the number of people needing to use Foodbanks rise from just over 100,000 five years ago, to just over 1 million today. This is only set to rise. Teaching our children to give, to be kind to those who have less than they do is a wonderful thing. Getting them to choose an item of food during a weekly shop to put in the Foodbank collection basket is a great way of getting them involved.

Whatever our circumstances, there is much we can do, for our families and for others. And there is much fun and love to be had regardless of income!

We’d love to hear about your experiences and ideas on this subject in the comments section!

Getting Nothing and Everything Done

I was pondering the other day why it is that I never seem to achieve anything.  Sometimes I will get to the end of the day and realise that the house actually looks more of a mess than it did before I started.  It certainly rarely looks tidier – or if does, it lasts for an hour, at the most.   Yet it doesn’t take a lot of thinking to work out exactly why stay at home parents find this so difficult.  It’s because every tiny little job takes four times as long when it involves a small child.  Six times as long if that child is between the ages of 1 and 3.

Take getting ready in the morning, for example.  I wonder if this will ring a bell with anyone else.

The day begins with getting up, eating breakfast, and getting dressed.  Well that’s quite straightforward, isn’t it? You get up, you get everyone breakfast, breakfast gets eaten, you get dressed, get the children dressed, and then you’re all ready.  Easy.  Yeah… Something like that.  What actually happens is that like the responsible parent you are, you get up on time and start waking up the children.  One of them takes issue with the fact that the ‘wrong’ parent woke them up.  A minute or two is taken up trying to placate the screaming child, or if they are old enough to know better, lecturing them on the making of unreasonable demands.

Eventually everyone is up, and you proceed down the stairs, asking them what cereal they would like for breakfast.  One of them will change their mind several times and you wonder (as you will repeatedly throughout the day) whether the ‘good parent’ thing to do is accept only the first thing they say and not pander to them (pushing on through the inevitable tantrum), or to give in and wait for them to make their minds up.  You will get three bowls of cereal full then spend another few minutes once you’ve put them on the table either finding a child a different spoon, telling them to find a different spoon themselves if they have a problem with that one, or telling them to suck it up and eat breakfast with the spoon they already darn well have.  If it’s not the spoons, it will be discussing what the optimum amount of milk is for a bowl of cereal and whether you have or have not achieved the correct level.  These happy family discussions may or may not be punctuated by lectures on how lucky they are to have breakfast at all,  references to starving children in the developing world, and a sinking feeling that you are beginning to sound exactly like your mother.

Once breakfast has been dished out to the small people, you quickly finish making your own breakfast and sit down.  This is clearly a mistake: never sit down with small children and certainly not with food; it’s an immediate catalyst for someone to need something.   A drink refill is required.  Again, you could ask them to sort it out themselves, but then that would probably result in a flooded kitchen which is the last thing you need to deal with in your pyjamas at 7:30am.  It’s easier to do it yourself.  So you get up, refill drink, sit down.  Then another one immediately drains their cup and wants some more.  Meanwhile, while you are up filling a second cup, the toddler decides now is a good time to develop some independence in the sport of breakfast-eating and starts feeding themselves Ready Brek with a spoon, liberally spreading it all over the table, the bib, their neck and the floor.   After gulping down your own breakfast you wipe off everything that needs immediate attention, realise you haven’t yet made the packed lunch for Pre-School, and throw that together whilst hoping the toddler does not attempt to climb out of her chair until you’ve finished. By the time you’ve done this, you realise there’s no time to clear the breakfast table, but that’s ok, you can do it after the school run.  You shoo the older children upstairs and then wonder where the toddler’s gone.  Finding her about to make a second breakfast of last night’s cat food, you remove her from the utility room and ask her to go upstairs.  She refuses (obviously).  You try holding her hand and guiding her up the stairs, but she turns her back on you with a sulky expression that would put a teenager to shame and runs away.  A few minutes is then spent retrieving her from wherever she has run off to, and you then carry her pointedly up the stairs while she yells at you.  Reasoning that at least the older ones will at least be getting ready by now you poke your head round the door of your eldest’s room to find her lying on her bed, still in her pyjamas, reading a book.

Reading a book is a good thing, so you swallow your frustration, ask her nicely to get dressed and read her book afterwards, and then turn your attention to the middle child.  It should only take five minutes to get her dressed, but it doesn’t, because you need to have the argument for the thousandth time about why she can’t wear a party skirt to Pre-School.  As a responsible and intelligent parent you have obviously tried the ‘this outfit or this outfit’ approach but this only works in the utopia that is parenting-book-universe because as it turns out the pre-schooler wants ‘that inappropriate outfit’.  You put the proverbial foot down, tell her to choose between the two options, and she, enjoying the opportunity for a bit of drama, will throw herself on her bed crying.  While deliberately ignoring her that in the hope she’ll give up and get dressed, you go back to the elder child to check her progress on getting dressed.  You find her four inches to the left of where she was the first time, still reading, still in her pyjamas but with addition of one sock.  In sterner voice than last time you tell her to get dressed. Now.  You then realise it’s been a while since you last saw the toddler, only to find her in the bathroom, standing on the toilet seat to reach the sink, and dropping the toothbrushes into the dusty filth behind the toilet that you haven’t got time to clean.  Retrieving her, you tuck her under one arm and the clothes that she was wearing yesterday (because they can’t be that dirty) under the other and give her to her father to dress.

You return to the stroppy middle child who is no longer crying but is still sitting on her bed with a face like thunder.  She greets you with the words “You’ve RUINED my day”. However, she does at least silently and poutily agree to get dressed into your choice of outfit and you can go off to dress yourself.  This process takes much longer than it ought to due to the constant interruptions from children who want to come in and strew toys all over your bedroom carpet, or gaze at you blankly while you try to go to the toilet.  Having struggled into some halfway decent clothing you go back to check on the oldest child who is now running around in two socks and a pair of pants – and nothing else.  Giving her a piece of your mind and stabbing a dramatic finger at the clock she finally gets dressed, but only because you waste another few minutes standing over her while she fusses about being unable to find her uniform (“It’s there”) her hairslides (“over there”) and her socks (“on your feet”).

Daddy takes over on teeth-cleaning duty while you rush downstairs to pack the school bags.  Yes, you should have done it last night. But last night you were busy doing all the other things that you failed to get done the previous day, before collapsing exhausted on the sofa with a glass of wine and The Big Bang Theory.  Because you now have six years of parenting experience behind you, you are not surprised to find the reading book under the sofa.  You are surprised by the absence of any fruit in the house to take to Pre-School because you could have sworn there were at least two bananas and an apple left yesterday and have the children really been stealing fruit and eating it on the sly?

With the bags packed, surely it’s finally time to go. It is, but you still need to call the children downstairs three times, tell them to put their shoes on three times, find their shoes which are (much to their surprise) where they always are, tell them to put their coats on twice, put a coat on the toddler, help do up a zip, put the coat back on the toddler and do it up, put shoes on the toddler, sit the toddler in the pushchair, sit the toddler back in the pushchair, wrestle the toddler into the pushchair and do up the straps.

Then you open the door and discover it’s raining.

It takes another few minutes to locate the rainhood for the pushchair and another few after that to figure out which way up it goes and get it over the pushchair past all the school bags hanging on it.  But that done, you find that you now have three children ready to go.  You check for your keys, check everything else, go out of the door, close the door, and there you are.  And apart from popping back in to get your own coat which you’d forgotten, you are now free to walk to school.

You’re already exhausted. And it’s only 8:20am.

The whole day sometimes can pass like this, running from one ‘crisis’ to another. I have boundless sympathy for parents who are not only coping with the standard stresses like these but with the additional pressures of caring for disabled children or elderly relatives or who are simply single parents with only one pair of hands.

Take going out to the shops, for example.

People without children decide to go to the supermarket.  They pick up their keys and some money, they get in the car, they go to the supermarket.

People with children need to go to the supermarket because they have run out of breakfast/nappies/wet wipes. They pick their keys, some money, a bag, a nappy, and some wet wipes, just in case.  They pick up their toddler, look for their shoes, can’t find their shoes, look for their shoes using wider parameters, find them in the washing basket.  They put on the shoes.  They go out of the front door, and unlock the car.  While they are unlocking the car the toddler takes the keys, and insists on being independent and climbing into the car seat by herself.  Agonisingly slowly.  Eventually they strap the toddler in then discover she refuses to give back the keys.  They ask for the keys back and get a shake of the head.  They demand the keys back and get a shake of the head.  Finally they prise the keys from the surprisingly strong fingers of the toddler, get into the car and drive to the supermarket listening to the dulcet tones of a tantrum from the back seat.

It’s no wonder everything takes forever.  Generally I get to the end of the day and gaze wearily at the list of things I had hoped to accomplish that day.  One of them will be ticked off, the rest left to accrue to the following day.  It’s hard not to feel frustrated and deflated – particularly if you are someone who in your pre-child life was quite productive.

However, it’s too easy to answer the question ‘what did you do today?’ with ‘Nothing’.

You may not have got to the bottom of that pile of handwashing, or cleaned the kitchen floor, or finally sorted out the filing cabinet.   But did you get your children to school on time, dressed, fed, and ready to work?  Did you give the ones at home a reasonably healthy lunch and tea?  Did you talk to your children today?  Did you play a game with them? Did you listen to them read? Did you read them a bedtime story?  Did you tell them you love them? Did you share a smile with them? Did you listen to what they did today?

Because we do these things every day we tend to forget that the basics of parenting are the things that matter.  Feeding your children, listening to them, loving them – we do this all the time and rarely tick that off the list as a successful, completed task.  But we should.

The next time you get to the end of a day and think ‘I’ve done nothing today’, think twice.  Sometimes what you think of as nothing is everything that matters.

The Truth Behind The Photos

Social Media.

We all use it. It’s how this very blog site and the friendships stemming from it were created. But what do we really know about our friends from what they post on their various social media pages? And if we are comparing ourselves to our peers based purely on their Instagram feed, are we setting ourselves up for a fall?

We upload photos of our day; but it’s not a true account of the whole day, is it? It’s not the real story.

Take this photo, which I posted on my Facebook page. Easter crafts, at the table, all happy and straight out of a Pinterest folder, yeah? No. This was a really nice activity, for all of three minutes. Then the fighting started. They fought over the tissue paper, threw the feathers on the floor in a tantrum because they weren’t ‘swan feathers’ and then said they didn’t want to wear the hats… Excellent. Took me longer to get all the craft accessories out of the cupboard and to tidy up then it did for them to actually sit to make anything.

I posted this to my Instagram account. A nice Pizza Hut lunch during Half Term. Just the three of us. Yes, it was lovely… Til Big Bear needed the toilet and I had to drag Baby Bear away from his pizza in order to accompany the big one. This resulted in a screaming fit, which all the other parents witnessed, and one frazzled Mama Bear.

I uploaded this photo to my Facebook account a couple of weeks ago, after Baby Bear and I went for a walk/scoot. It looks lovely, and we did have a lovely time. But what you can’t see from this image was the almighty fight I had to get him into his car seat to get to the park in the first place, the brawl he had with his brother first thing in the morning, the amount of times I’d shouted “stop it” to them both before Big Bear had gone to pre-school, the two other ‘selfies’ which were discarded due to closed eyes, or the duck who was terrorised by him before I frog-marched him back to the car for Round 2 of ‘car seat wrestling’.

I’m not lying or exaggerating when I post these photos onto Facebook or Instagram, these moments happened. They are just that, though: moments. A photo captures one moment in time, it is not a true representation of someone’s entire day. It’s all too easy to believe that people who post on Social Media have these perfect, harmonious lives where everything is glorious and they’re forever at the farm or the theatre. But that’s not real.

Most people don’t post when something mundane or ordinary happens. They don’t ‘check-in’ when they are going to Tescos or let the world of Instagram know if they’ve had fish fingers, chips and beans for tea. They don’t upload photos of their messy kitchens after that meal, they only upload a photo of their kid appearing to wolf down a homemade pie with eight different types of homegrown veg.

Appearances can be deceiving. Don’t compare yourselves to other mums via the wonders of FB or IG, and certainly don’t try and compete with the Pinterest mum! Just know that what you see on their social media pages is only a very brief glimpse into their world, and we are all human. There’s always a truth behind the photo you see.

Even the mum who takes both kids swimming every week and cooks from scratch every day has a playroom which is so untidy she just shuts the door on it each night. But she would never upload of photo of it to FB….