Inter-generational japes and trips to Ikea

A programme last night has sparked animated conversations about the mutual benefits of older people and small children spending time together. In the TV documentary nursery children visited people in a care home. It's a social model that has been adopted in other countries where in some places nurseries have been located inside nursing homes so that the older residents spend time with the children every day. The thing about this that fascinates me is why anyone should be surprised by the outcomes of such an experiment.

I've had conversations recently with a number of people who are caring for elderly relatives / parents. The overriding issue they worry about is leaving an older person alone for fear they might fall or the cost of the care they need. The question I always ask is, "Is s/he happy ?" Older people experience all the emotions they always have, but for some reason they are treated as errant children for being angry or upset or for not wanting to 'join in.' You see loneliness is the one thing we feel so uncomfortable both talking about and dealing with. Equally when I suggested that my friend's parent might be feeling depressed (in as kind a way as possible I'm not a monster) I hoped it was helpful rather than another thing to feel guilty about not knowing. It's difficult to see our own parents changed or weakened by age. Taking responsibility for their happiness is even scarier.

When we first moved into this house Brown Bear was one year old and our retired neighbours P and J loved seeing him and watching him grow. They would invite us to play in their garden and enjoyed his company and P often commented with great surprise at the new developments in my boy's language or abilites. As P's cancer progressed and he spent more time in hospital we saw less of him, but he still looked forward to seeing Brown Bear and J would pass on that he'd raised a smile when he heard our boy chattering away. My greatest worry when P passed away was that J would be lonely. As it happened all of her friends and family rallied round and kept her busy with holidays, invitations to dinner and weekends away. This is still the case 5 years later.

We have a wonderful relationship with J and she is a self-styled, 'spare granny' to the boys and they fight over who will go to her house for a 'playdate.' Blue Bear goes in, takes off his shoes and plonks himself down on her armchair - he loves keeping her company. Brown Bear will usually take something to do, either a game or a book so he can read to her. For a time I worried that this was too much to ask of her, but then I noticed that she really enjoyed being with the boys. Some days we invite her to join us for a visit to the park or for lunch or even just a trip to Ikea. One thing I did notice was she wasn't hearing so well and she joked with me about it. I decided to mention it quietly to her daughter-in-law as I was getting worried and didn't want to cause concern, but thought it best they knew.

The thing about intergenerational socialising is how unforced it is. I have seen how the most curmudgeonly of old men (thinking of no ones father-in-law in particular *cough*) answer a toy phone when handed it by a small child. My boys regularly charm older people as they help me with the shopping and I will strike up a conversation with someone because they are talking to the boys. To be honest my friend's idea of opening up nurseries so that women can go in and hold babies to reduce stress starts to sound really sensible. That is if it wasn't so unethical and, you know, mad. Don't challenge me on why only women, it's not my idea I'm just sharing.

Being around young children has given a boost to my parents and in-laws. As grandparents they have found a joy in being around these small noisy people who demand and bicker and fight and generally bring disorder into their lives. I've seen my father play football in the garden with this 3 grandsons when he's usually stuck to his armchair pretty much all day. I've watched my father-in-law sit and patiently build a toy aeroplane because of the plaintive cry of, "help me Grandpa," from Brown Bear. The boys go and visit their grandparents and stay over without us which is something I never did as my grandmother was in India so I saw her rarely. I was very close to her though and loved her company when I did visit. Hubbie stayed with his grandparents when he was a child so he was very close to them and I'm so glad our boys get to do the same.

My boys have a great relationship and respect for people borne of their contact with family and friends who are older. I hope this stays with them as they grow up.

What on earth did I do with my time before I had kids ?

You know all that planning and prep you do for Christmas - the tree, the presents, the food and even getting the house ready for potential guests ? I've always found it a bit much, but now I have kids I wonder why I ever found it all so overwhelming before.

Before we had kids:

• I'd put up and decorate the tree and select beautiful decorations made of glass to sparkle in the light.

• We would have baubles and lights and window decals and all sorts of festive fun. 

• There would be drinks with friends, work and various Christmas parties and meals to attend. I'd have a dress for each event and decide what to wear weeks before going. 

• Food shopping would commence at least a month before and I'd have a plan of what to do and where to be for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day and all of the New Year bit. 

• Presents would be indulgent and fun and as impractical as you like. I'd take plenty of time to enjoy them and read the books and listen to the CDs or wear the perfume I was given. 

• By the end of it all I was exhausted and would plan to go away the following year to keep things simple 

Now we have kids:

• The tree has a few incarnations - the first is the one where the kids throw everything at it and then I redo it with fewer decorations and no lights at all. Glass ornaments ? Don't make me laugh. 

• A week after putting the tree up I have to take all the chocolate decorations off as I keep finding the empty wrappers under Big Boy's pillow. 

• I forget to even take the baubles and decals out of the box until after Christmas.

• There is no work party and there are no after work drinks - when the mums from school go out for a 'do' I put on whatever is clean and nearest the bed when I'm leaving the house. 

• Food is bought in stages with plenty of options to allow for the carnivore Baby Boy and the suddenly fussy eater Big Boy - he eats a Christmas dinner at school, but refuses everything on his plate at home and wants the same 'baby plate' that his brother has. 

• I barely notice my own presents as I try to keep track of who gave what to the kids. The ensuing wrapping paper mountain reveals they have far too much. At least a week later I haven't opened most of mine. A year later I find the voucher for a meal for two that my sister got for us - it expired 6 months previously. 

This is a silly amount of presents 

I haven't even mentioned that Baby Boy vomited on me 3 times when we went to visit my parents or that I was up all night when Big Boy had a suspected ear infection while we were staying with the in-laws.

I've already suggested a few options to Hubbie for next year - just to give me hope:

1. We go away somewhere hot and forget Christmas completely. We enjoy a lovely holiday instead - the kids have enough of everything already.

2. I take Big Boy with me to volunteer on Christmas Day and we ask everyone to limit the presents to one each for all of us.

3. We leave Big Boy with my parents, Baby Boy with Hubbie's parents and we go to the Caribbean for a grown up holiday.

I'm not even kidding.

Debbie says no to Christmas

Holiday helpers: or, How I keep sane when we are supposed to be relaxing

The joy of bunting

Earlier this year we went on our first holiday since we had our son. Before he was born we used to go on holiday a few times a year. Me and Hubbie do well on holiday as we enjoy spending time with each other and relax and decide most things without disagreement. Throw a belligerent toddler into that mix, however, and you have the recipe for a holiday that we just weren't prepared for. 

For weeks people asked if I was looking forward to my holiday and I was careful in saying "it'll be nice to have a break." What I didn't say was "I am praying that my son doesn't cause chaos on the plane," "I'm dreading that he'll create havoc due to us all being together for a whole week" or that "I really just hoped we'd get some child-free time, but it was unlikely as it was just us 3 going.
In the event he was fine with the journey there. When checking in we got a passport for his teddy Jiggles and he enjoyed eating breakfast in the airport. He was occupied during the flight, ate some of the meal, played a farting fish game that Hubbie had downloaded onto his tablet and even met the pilot when we landed. He banged his head while we waited an age for Hubbie's bag to come off the carousel and was a bit unruly waiting to collect our hire car, but as soon as we got into the car he promptly fell asleep until we got to our hotel. 

My boy on his one day at the beach

During the holiday he sustained a nosebleed at the kid's club, an ear infection that put paid to beach days and had more tantrums on a daily basis than I thought possible. You see for kids a holiday is not what it is for adults. Please allow me to explain. The reasons we go on holiday are:

To relax:

Adults - sit by the pool, read books, eat nice meals, drink and generally kick back
Toddlers - don't relax. Why would they, they're toddlers.

To experience new things / places:

Adults - like to go sightseeing, take photos
Toddlers - want to go to the same park every day to do the same thing every day and will make it clear that they do not approve when this is not adhered to

To see a different people/cultures/lifestyles:

Adults - tick things off their bucket list like dance flamenco or eat at the highest restaurant in Las Vegas (we've done one of these)
Toddlers - kick off because it's all a bit different and they miss their friends - who wants to spend all that time with their parents really ?

To have a break from the daily grind:

Adults - lie in and stay up late, eat at strange times and try to do as much as possible in the given time
Toddlers - have just about got used to the meticulously enforced routine you instilled and now you're expecting them to freestyle it ?

Conclusion: as holiday companions parents and toddlers are entirely at odds with each other from the start.

We are going on holiday again and this time I'm armed with the learning from the first one. We're not flying this time, but we will be driving for a long time so I am prepared with the following holiday essentials:

Snacks - my boy will do almost anything for Bear fruit and Nakd bars - I keep one of each in every bag (and for Hubbie too)

Lifesavers

Tablets - equipped with all manner of technology for grown ups we also have a portable DVD player for the car this time so he can watch Firehouse Dog. I've got all his favourite apps including; Cbeebies, Talking Tom and Farting Fish (thanks for that Hubbie !!) 

Activities - plenty of crayons, mini colouring books, playing cards and puzzles and stickers. Something will do the trick.

Holiday journal - a red hardback book with matching pen that Hubbie picked up at a conference. We kept it on the table so he could use it whenever he wanted to draw a picture, 'write' about his day or put stickers or souvenirs in it like his unused kids club wristband. This time I'm expecting pictures of all the animals he meets on the farm.

Bribes - so I have a new football for him, a new bucket and spade set, lots of small bags of Haribo sweets and more stickers.

I'm hoping it will be relaxing. I've packed a few books, my running kit and all of our wellies so we've got all eventualities covered.

Wish me luck - I may well need it !! 

Relaxing image

Things that only sound cute when a toddler says them

Kids often have their own language and in my family we still have 'baby words' for lots of things that were mispronounced when we were little. Some that are still in general usage are:

Plum - what my brother called his thumb

Venchtables - another one from my brother, he hated vegetables so much he couldn't even say the word

openty unity versity - Open University, ok now I'm giving my brother a break

Chinka - what my sister called chicken, my parents still do !

Kunkarella - the doofer you use to light the gas stove, Hubbie calls it that now too :)

From the moment my boy first babbled I couldn't wait to hear his voice and his first words. In the beginning he also had some special ways of saying things:

Gardee - for garden. He corrects my parents when they still call it that.

Piya Piya - this one puzzled us all for months and we narrowed it down to being something to do with the CBeebies show Abney and Teal, but we got no further than that.

Since my boy learned to speak I've been charmed by his cute pronunciation. Here are some of my favourites:

Powwidge - what we have for breakfast

It's woowinned - when something is spoiled

Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, Mummeeeee - that's me 

Daddy dooze (does) it like this - because I don't know how to do it right

Then there is the thing he says a gazillion times a day

Mummy look at me  - as if I could look at anything else

My parents speak Punjabi so he is also partly bilingual and this additional language is helping Hubbie to learn Punjabi too. Some of his 'special' words include:

Dudoo milk - or milk

Woti - roti/chapatti

Nani-mummy food - Punjabi cuisine

I love listening to my boy - he's hilarious. When he finally masters how to get to the punchline of a knock knock joke without corpsing I think he's got the making of a great stand up career :) 

Seven Years Hitched

Dear Hubbie,

Yes I know it's a really bad play on words, but it wouldn't have made sense if I'd titled this post Some Like it Hot would it now ? (well maybe to some people, but you know I'm not about being cliquey). So today is our wedding anniversary - yes I know you've already fallen over in shock as I always mix up the date of our wedding with the date we went on honeymoon. It's an easy mistake though isn't it ?

Anyway, I digress. Seven years ago we were married in a civil ceremony at Chelsea Town Hall followed by a party with family and friends above a pub in Battersea. I know you know this, but I'm narrating for other readers so bear with me please. I wore a gold silk sari and you wore a very snazzy suit (as modelled by Bryan Ferry). We took photos on Battersea Bridge and I let the bath overrun in the lovely hotel in Paddington that we stayed in afterwards as we were too busy opening wedding cards from our lovely guests.

Since that day in 2006 a lot has changed, where we live, what we do, who we live with and much more besides. Here are seven of the highlights (one for each year - naturally):

1. When we bought our first house we spent months working on it and learned that when DIYing we have to be doing separate projects in order to preserve our sanity. I'm not joking when I tell people that we nearly got divorced putting down the kitchen flooring. It was worth it for the laughs over cheap pizza and Weatherspoons breakfasts though.

2. Going to Battersea Cats & Dogs home to choose Neo as our newest family member was brilliant. You made up your mind as soon as you opened the door to the cattery and he wandered up to you to say "hello." He was one of us from that day forth and it's thanks to you that he is.

3. When we were told that it was unlikely we'd have children we sat in the corridor of the hospital for what seemed hours crying and holding each other. It felt like the worst pain in the world and could have broken us. It didn't, it made us stronger. We're still here.

4. On your first visit to India my late Naniji was delighted at your shared love of cricket and I was amazed at how the two of you would sit watching TV together, communicating despite your lack of Punjabi and her limited English. She adored your love of trains too and when asked by my Mum she said, 'Of course he's one of us - he's Indian.' High praise indeed ! 

5. I'm glad that when we're on holiday we've always enjoyed spending all our time together - mostly thanks to your laid back approach if I'm honest. It was you who taught me that Rome will still be there even if we don't visit the Coliseum in the morning. Another hour in bed is fine, we are on holiday after all.

6. When our son was being born, things were going wrong and you were incredible. You had family calling you to ask what was going on and you had doctors telling you that you might lose your wife and son. That was a lot of stress all at once on the back of no sleep for more than a day. I had no idea, because to me you were a picture of calm and joy when our boy was delivered safe and perfect. 

7. Our son has your cheeky sense of humour and I love how he enjoys making people smile - just like Daddy. Eventually he will, no doubt, develop sarcasm too. He's hilarious and clever and looks like you. We did that :o) 

So that's my top seven. It hasn't always been easy, but it has been totally worth it. Being married is more than 'just a piece of paper' to us. We work at our relationship and sometimes we work harder than seems fair. Other times we laugh until I can't breathe and I have tears rolling down my face and you think that's even funnier than the thing that made me laugh in the first place. 

Happy Anniversary - I love you :o) 

Listen to His & Hers: The Seven Year (H)itch - our new show featuring songs we've chosen to celebrate our anniversary on Fri 25th Oct 9pm-10pm at www.croydonradio.com or as a podcast from Sat 26th Oct. 

Confessions of an OCD mummy

There are bloggers who set trends with their fashion writing, bloggers who write reviews of products, there are those who indulge my love of food porn and others still who share clever and helpful tips on how to entertain children (I particularly admire these last two types). I've come to realise that my blogging life, however, is therapy. So if you think of yourself as the virtual therapist to my Tony Soprano style session (with far less violence and a little less pasta) then we can commence. Get your notepad ready and adjust your glasses for today's session.

My siblings have often joked that I have OCD and I've gone along with it, but I realise that I do actually have a lot of obsessive compulsive tendencies. It was when I started to think about all of the things I do that it occurred to me that it might not be 'strictly normal' (whatever that is). So today might be the time to confess:

I hang up the washing in a specific order. Hubbie's clothes on one side (they're the biggest) then mine and lastly the boy's. If Hubbie kindly offers to hang up the washing I rehang it when he's gone to bed or left for work as I can't bear to go into the room it's in until it's done 'properly'.

When the clothes are dry I fold and stack them in order of size and who they belong to. It speeds up the putting away process. I know, I know you're already rolling your eyes at the ceiling and it's not going to get any better.

Once I've worn my clothes for the day I fold anything that isn't going into the wash basket and put them away (even the boy's). I can't get Hubbie to do this so there are hooks on every door in the house so he can hang his stuff up and not leave it on the floor where it drives me crazy.

The other day I went to get something from under sink, noticed a stain on the shelf and started emptying all the cleaning products and candles out so that I could wipe down the shelf. Hubbie walked in and asked what I was doing (we were about to eat dinner). I told him and he walked out again.  

Any time I have to change the volume control on the radio or TV it has to always be set to an even number. Always. I don't know what would happen if it is on an odd number. I've never risked it.

I fold bags for life (and all carrier bags and paper bags, in fact all bags, you get the idea) a certain way. If Hubbie puts them away scrunched up or folded another way I do them again.  

I love seeing friends and family, but if people are in my house I get stressed about them moving cushions or touching stuff or generally changing things from the order I have them in. It makes me a terrible host as I just don't relax.

The fridge is ordered a certain way with designated shelves for things and the 'right' place to put items. The freezer is the same, but adapts depending on what we've eaten and what we've bought. My Mum's fridge is chaos so I can't open it and look for milk to make tea, I just have to close my eyes and feel around in the door for where I think it's going to be. She recently replaced her fridge so when I went round I had no idea where anything would be - it was carnage !!

Because of my aversion to mess I won't have sand or messy play at home. My boy turned his shoe upside down in the car the other day and it sent me apoplectic as he poured sand all over the floor and his car seat. Every night when he goes to bed I tidy all the toys, books and toddler detritus up so that - overnight at least - the chaos is managed.

Yes I am aware that my being this controlling will not go unnoticed by my son. I do try to minimise the effects on him, but I have noticed a few telltale signs that he is subliminally taking it all in. One of these was when we were at my parents' house not long after the boy had started drinking from a cup and not a bottle. He reached across for a coaster and put it under his sippy cup. My sister looked at me and said, "that's you that's done that to him !!" I insisted I didn't make him use a coaster at home, but had to admit he'd seen me using them obsessively on all surfaces.

So that's a round up of the less odd of my compulsions. I haven't even started on what happens if a stranger sneezes near me or if a child with snot all over their face is close by. Judge if you like, I'm already imagining you have tutted more than once and raised an eyebrow or two.

I'm married to the most patient man in the world and he lives with my fastidiousness. It makes no difference in his life if the fridge is a mess or if the clothes aren't folded or if there's a muddy cat paw mark on the kitchen floor. He also understands that one or all of these might be cause for a meltdown by me. It's why we function so well as a couple. He's not insane and at least half of my son's genes are his so that's alright.

Anyway, I have to go now and deal with a smear I noticed on the kitchen window earlier.

Thanks for listening :o) 

Does the boy eat chicken ? or My Big Fat Punjabi Family

I'm sure there are some films you watch repeatedly, either because they have meaning for you or they star someone you love watching or they just make you laugh. My Big Fat Greek Wedding was on the other day and it's a film that I missed on cinema release that I never really appreciated at first. It's grown on me since and it's only now I realise this is because I see it as an instructional film for anyone considering a cross-cultural relationship / marriage. In fact it could almost be about my own family the similarities are so startling.

There's the character of the father who is convinced everything is Greek (or in my Dad's case indian) and his constant sobbing refrain "why is she doing this to me ?" The enormous family that are noisy, in your face and inappropriate. I have aunties who used to say "it's good to have a long nose, it suits you," genuinely believing I needed to hear that. This appears to be an inbuilt need to 'advise' on appearance which is also evident in the scene where on the morning of her wedding Tula is surrounded by noisy female cousins and aunties bleaching and plucking facial hair while fussing around the sudden appearance of a spot.

I was spared the one cliche from the film that is also a truism of cross-cultural marriages, the poor new lad being tricked into saying inappropriate words to his new family. As I'm the one sibling who is fluent in punjabi it was unlikely Hubbie would learn any swear words from me. Now he is learning from our son who uses some incredibly cute crossover language that is 'Pinglish' or an amalgamation of punjabi and english.

Of course I've mentioned before how there are always mountains of food when we visit my parents or other family and my husband's first visit to my Mum's home for lunch was a lesson in why indian women outlive their husbands. Mum hovered over Hubbie ensuring his plate was always full (while simultaneously cooking chappatis) so he learned to always go to their house on an empty stomach in the future. The first time my Dad met Hubbie he asked (in Punjabi) "does the boy eat chicken ?" (I don't so it was a fair question) and when it was established that he did I think he passed. 

My favourite similarity from the film is when Tula's father presents the bride and groom with a wedding gift of a house. These grand gestures are very indian and I still cringe when I recall being a guest at a wedding where the father of the bride presented his terribly embarrassed daughter and son in law with a comedically big cheque like they'd just won the pools or something.

I admire the bravery of the men who've married into my family. Some didn't make it, but the ones who did have hallowed status. Hubbie is no. 1 son in law - especially since he is also Daddy to their first grandchild. When we visit Mum always makes his favourite chicken. These days she spends less time watching his plate as my son gets lavished with all the attention, but Hubbie still leaves feeling stuffed.

The one line in the movie that sums it up for me is when Tula's auntie looks at Ian and says proudly, 'he looks Greek.' When we stayed in India with my beloved late grandmother she was so taken with Hubbie she said, 'of course he's Punjabi.'

It was the most I could have asked for and made me so proud.