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.

It takes a village - and a cat - to raise a child.

I watched the movie Mommie Dearest the other day for the first time. I have heard of it, but had never seen it. If you don't know it, the book was written by Christine Crawford about her adoptive mother Joan Crawford and the cruelty she inflicted on her children. I watched Faye Dunaway screaming at her kids for having wire coathangers and witnessed them cowering in fear. There was a clutching feeling in my chest as I thought, oh god I hope my kids they don't think I'm like that when I shout at them. Brown Bear was staying at my Mum and Dad's house and while I was pondering how terrible a parent I am, I got a message from my sister. It said he was telling her he had 'the best day of his life' with me last week when we went to the Lego store and BBC Radio London. Phew, I'm not Joan Crawford. On the scale of parenting it goes from Joan Crawford at one end to ... Oh I dunno probably Mary Poppins and she's not even a parent.

My boy the radio presenter

One of the things that worries me most is that I'm not a great parent. That I shout too much. I don't cook enough. I tell them off when they are just being kids. That I indulge them and they will become spoiled. Basically everything. So when they offer any form of praise or suggest I've got it right I'm proper chuffed. It doesn't happen that often. I have accepted that being a parent means I'll get it wrong at times and the kids will notice. What they also do, however, is forgive me.

Brown Bear goes to stay with my parents sometimes and Blue Bear has stayed with Hubbie's parents in the past. The kids know what they can get away with - a lot - and push their luck by doing the cute baby faces and big eyes to get what they want. In Brown Bear's case that means chocolate spread for breakfast, McDonalds for lunch and so many new toys and clothes that his trunki barely closes when he has to return home. Blue Bear has simpler expectations. He likes to play with all the toys and drags Grandpa around to build railway tracks and play with him. He often just plonks himself on Grandpa's lap and waits for sweets to appear. It doesn't take long.

I asked my Mum what it was like to be a grandparent and she told me that it was like the reward for parenting. That you invest in your kids and the return is the grandkids that you spoil and fuss over. All in the knowledge that the parents have all the stress of raising kids that they already went through. Of course filling the kids with sugar before sending them home is just a bonus.

We also have a secret weapon in our parenting armoury - the cat. Neo has been teaching my kids to be good cats for years. He is expert at it now. Years ago he trained Brown Bear to open the tin of cat biscuits in secret so when I said no he would still get treats. The two of them cuddle up together and snuggle and Blue Bear has been jealous of this closeness for a while. Then a few days ago - while Brown Bear was away - Neo decided it was time to train Blue Bear as well. I watched as my son crawled around behind the cat copying him washing his paw and face and then observed as Neo stopped and waited for him to catch up when he walked off. It was adorable.

He showed Blue Bear how to eat and drink like a cat:

He likes to sit under the clothes airer and meditate - looks like Blue Bear does too.

After an afternoon of cat training they both needed to relax.

I am still going to worry about how inadequate my parenting is, but at least I have some great helpers.

On the road - with my boys

As it was the last week of the holidays I decided to take the boys to visit Grandma and Grandpa (mother and father in law) for a few days. The idea was to give Hubbie a bit of child free time to get to work and catch up on his sleep and to enjoy some days out in and around the New Forest where they live. To be honest I was a bit worried about it as I've never been away with them on my own overnight and wasn't sure how it would go. It's also a bit of an unknown quantity how they will behave together and Hubbie's Dad isn't the most tolerant when the boys are in a funny mood and decide to mess around - more of which later.

So I planned ahead and packed the car ready to go including a fully charged tablet for Brown Bear to play Sonic on and a portable DVD player for Blue Bear to watch Paw Patrol on the whole way there. It's been years since I drove to the in-laws on my own (or at all, Hubbie usually does it) so to be sure I put the address into the sat nav and followed Niamh's dulcet tones. The boys were so well behaved on the way and I listened to the radio and they kept themselves amused. We arrived in good time and let ourselves in and unpacked the car. Just as we sat down Grandma and Grandpa arrived home and the boys were delighted to see them. On the first afternoon I left Brown Bear with Grandpa to 'play golf' in the garden while me and Blue Bear went to get some shopping with Grandma. I promised he could see the boats and he loved watching them and spotting seagulls. A trick that has really helped me manage the boys has been to do things with them separately and this worked well while we were away.

On our first full day we took the boys to the New Forest Wildlife Park - where Hubbie used to work as a teenager - and the separate activities idea was a lifesaver. There are two adventure parks there, one for younger children and the other for older children and adults. Blue Bear had a lovely time meeting all the animals and was excited to see the "ow-els," while Brown Bear insisted they weren't real as he didn't see them moving. Then one of them did (it had clearly heard him and taken umbrage). It's been a revelation this Summer holiday hearing Blue Bear using new words almost every day. Brown Bear has been teaching him to say things and he is so proud when his brother copies him. Often he calls out, "Mum, Mum, he just said biscuit / rabbit / owl / otter," in excitement.


I wanted to make sure that both boys had some one to one time with me every day as I've found that is the best way to stop them from fighting with each other. In fact they have actually started to play together and Brown Bear involves Blue Bear in his imaginative play. We went to a park one afternoon and it was small, but there was enough there for the boys to create a game where they were fire officers with Brown Bear directing where they needed to be and Blue Bear following orders and keeping up with his brother. He was delighted to be part of the role play and kept up with him until I noticed he was turning pink from the heat and encouraged them to get back for a snack and a rest.

One of the things I find difficult is the judgement that I feel is heaped upon my parenting when we are around Grandpa. He adores the children, but isn't a fan of the noise or chaos they tend to bring into his home. When they are tired or just in one of those funny moods where they want to run around the house, or chase each other, or wrestle, or whinge, he is not especially magnanimous about it. I then feel bad and I take it out on the kids. It's a work in progress.

As we prepare for the boys to go back to school and nursery next week I can look back on a summer break that has been exponentially better than the last one. Ok, that's not difficult. Last year was like wading through shark infested custard while being screeched at constantly and loudly. This year hasn't been all Haribo and kitchen discos, but it's shown me that time and a loving attitude towards my boys is paying off.

Last week I was talking to Brown Bear about the things he enjoys doing. He said he didn't really like much (he's going through a miserable phase), but then he surprised me when he said,
"The best day was Blue Bear's adoption day. And the fun day*."
It made my heart sing that his best days involved his brother.

While we were away Blue Bear took a shine to Brown Bear's fire engine trunki. He kept callling it "Mine Nee Naw." Everything and everyone is 'mine' at the moment from grandparents to toys. Brown Bear told me he had said that Blue Bear could have his trunki, "because he loves it." Of course it's possible he would prefer the newer bus trunki that his brother has, but I like to believe that it's a loving gesture from one brother to another.

On the way home from my first 'road trip' with my boys I decided to stop and pay a call on a friend. I watched them run up and throw their arms around her and tell her excitedly about the adventures we had while we were away. Ok, so we didn't really see a zebra or a giraffe (a bit of storytelling from Brown Bear there), but we did have fun. The boys travelled well, they had ice cream every day, they played new games and sat up at the table and practised drawing lifeboats with Grandma.

Now we've done it once I don't feel so worried about travelling with the boys on my own. I  might even consider doing this again in future and making our road trip a regular thing.

*Annual Family fun day for adoptive families.

Six going on sixteen...

Brown Bear has been staying with my parents since Friday. He goes for a mini break occasionally and he has a great time. My parents and sister spoil him with presents, visits and meals out. He gets to play with his baby cousin and generally has a bit of a 'holiday' from us. I miss him a lot when he is away. I call him every evening to wish him good night and in the morning to ask how he slept. He is older now so finds it all a bit silly having to talk to boring Mummy and gets distracted and wanders off mid conversation.

I take him over to my parents' house travelling on two trains. It's a little adventure we have and I take a train picnic for him and he asks to play on my ipad on the train. It's our thing. As I don't commute any more trains are often a bit of a treat for me now and going to Clapham Junction with him is great fun as every time we get to the concourse he says, "Mummy it smells like..." it's been various foods including pizza, chicken, potatoes, but never pasties - which is what it is. My journey home is always a bit sad as I'm hoping he has a lovely time and missing him already, while also planning to tidy his room and change his bedsheets while he's away.

The plan was to pick him up tomorrow. I have been preparing the train picnic for days now, collecting things to take with me. The Dangermouse comic with free spy glasses on the front, an apple that is so tiny it will make him smile, a flapjack from Waitrose that he liked last time I got it for him and a drink that he's only allowed to have sometimes as a treat. I also went out to get some flowers to say thank you to my sister for taking care of him so nicely.

Tonight we had a facetime chat and he seemed chirpy. He wanted to stay a bit longer so I said I'd pick him up in the afternoon tomorrow and would ask Daddy to come home to watch Blue Bear so I could come and get him on my own. It wasn't what we had planned and Hubbie huffed and puffed a bit then went off piste, sighed and said, "why don't I just go and get him instead ?" Before I could say, "let's have a chat about it." Brown Bear cheered, "Yay, yes I want Daddy to come and get me." Ouch.

So, Brown Bear will get the comic, the flapjack and the teeny tiny apple and my sister will get the flowers,  but I won't be there. I won't get to hear what he thinks it smells like on the concourse. I will see him when he gets home and he will already have told all his stories on the way home. He won't want to tell me when he gets home. Blue Bear will act up as soon his brother gets home in a combination of joy and annoyance that he is back. I will ask if he liked the comic and the snacks and he'll have wandered off already.

They grow up so fast don't they ?

The trials of life (and homesickness)

Afternoon tea treat

I've been a bit absent lately and it wasn't entirely intentional. We went to visit the in-laws for a few days and I expected we'd be a bit busy. We took our boy to Peppa Pig World on Thursday. He's been a few times before and loves it there. It was torrential and there was thunder and lightning, but once the sun came out he went on all his favourite rides at least twice and some three times.

On Friday we went to Bournemouth for a spa day. It's going to be my birthday on Tuesday this week so this was a bit of a treat and after hitting the gym, the pool and having a steam and jacuzzi we had a nice afternoon tea. Grandma and Grandpa took care of the boy while we were out and by all accounts he was pretty good. I'd left his scooter and some craft bits for him to do with Granny, who loves painting and gardening so they usually do fun things together.

On Saturday it looked a bit cooler and I had a salon treatment booked first thing so I went to get my nails done and when I got back we decided to take the boy to a local Gruffalo trail. It was at a site called Bolderwood and some of the locations in the woods were just stunning.

tree roots

look at me !!

Of course we'd hoped the boy would enjoy it as he is a big fan of the Gruffalo and we are taking him for a Gruffalo birthday picnic in a few weeks so this was a sort of preview to get him used to what to expect. It did involve a fair bit of walking, but he was unbearably whingey about it all the way round the trail. He kept complaining about having to walk and even when hubbie tried to distract him with an impromptu game of Pooh sticks he just moaned.

watching a stream 

looking for the Gruffalo 

In an attempt to cheer him up I gave him a snack to bolster him along. He ate it and carried on grumbling. When we spotted some massive puddles I said he could jump in them because he had his wellies on. He jumped joyfully and then kicked at the puddles so that we all got splashed with mud too - thanks son. Then he whinged a bit more. Then he had yet another meltdown.

walking on cattle grids

playing peek a boo 

By the end of the walk we had all tried to cheer him up whether it was playing hide and seek with him hiding behind trees, or carrying him for bits of the walk or encouraging him by racing to get to the next signpost. We were all a bit fed up of the screeching, kicking, complaining - and by now squelching - threenager in our midst. It was horrible. He clearly hadn't enjoyed it at all and three adults had basically spent the day being yelled at by a monster of a child.

When we got back I looked up train times to come home and told Hubbie I wanted to leave and try to salvage at least some sanity while he spent more time with his parents and the boy could at least have his precious time with Daddy - who is his best friend apparently. Hubbie sat next to me and said we could all come home a day early. I felt terrible, but relieved.

When I sat with the boy at bedtime and told him we were going home he asked why. I explained he wasn't being nice and that it wasn't fun for anyone so we would go home. The reason I do 'Mummy and boy time' with him is so that we can talk about our day and sometimes he opens up to me about what's on his mind. From chatting to him I found out he was missing his teddy bears, his room, our cat - basically he was homesick.

A little while later I heard a plaintive voice asking for me or Daddy to lie with him in his bed. I closed my laptop and went to lie down next to him. He softly said, "I'm going to miss Grandma" and I said, "so is Daddy. He won't get to spend tomorrow with her now." My voice broke a bit and he looked at me, then he turned and put his tiny arm around my neck. He looked like he was going to cry and he started to stroke my cheek. "I'm sorry Mummy." I asked if wanted to go home and he said he did. I stayed with him until he fell asleep then gently took his hand and put it round one of the bears in the bed and went downstairs.

We came home today and I was shattered, emotionally wrung out and felt massively guilty for us leaving early. I've reorganised the downstairs of the house, defrosted the freezer and Hubbie has cut the grass in the front and back gardens. We took the boy swimming then let him play with his favourite toy cars and watch his favourite film and generally just hang out at home. It was like managing a tiny time bomb of screeching, kicking, yelling hysteria.

I can only hope that if he's like this at three and a half he's going to be an angelic teenager.

That's how it works isn't it ?

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 :) 

Teddy bear bowling (patent pending)

I took the boy to visit my parents last week. He loves it there as he has lots of toys, plenty of grown ups who adore him and spoil him and he is the centre of attention the entire time he's there.

When he was there this time he invented a new game - we were going to call it Ten Bear Bowling, but getting four bears to sit up was difficult enough, so it's called Teddy Bear Bowling.

Aim for the middle

Knock down the bears

And go back for the rest

It's not exactly skilful, but it did keep him from wrecking the house and he loved watching Tellytubbies and Zippy fall over as he threw a football at them. I told you it's not skilful.

We may need to work on the finer points of the game - like ensuring all the bears are similar sizes maybe, but the squeals of laughter and excited attempts to knock them all over were just priceless :)

This is a post for Mummy Never Sleeps linky All The Small Things

Disclosure: No bears were harmed in the making of this post :)

Does he take sugar ?

It's not often I'm asked to give evidence for why I think something. Even less frequently am I asked to give examples to demonstrate that I am all for equality. Apparently it's not ok to just say, "Well I've been an equality and diversity manager for a living and they don't let you do that if you're not fair and just." I think that's up there with, "Of course I'm not racist or sexist, I can't be, I'm an asian woman."

Well today I was asked to show how I can prove that I'm all for equality and how I support this in my family. So, partly as an instructional guide and partly to demonstrate that I've thought this through here's what I came up with:

Disability:

During the Paralympics we took our son to watch the football and as a result we spoke to him a lot about the difference between a wheelchair and a pushchair, ie. 'you use a pushchair sometimes and you walk sometimes, if someone uses a wheelchair they may not be able to walk or they might have difficulty walking so the wheelchair helps them to do things."

Since he was little our boy has watched Cbeebies so he has seen programmes featuring children with disabilities and is also familiar with the person signing in the corner of the screen. He once asked me about Cerrie's arm and I explained that it looks different, but she uses it the same way as her other arm for some things. He was happy with that and I didn't use the words, 'normal,' or 'disability.'

I took him to baby signing before he could speak so he also has some signs and understands that this is a form of communication. My father and mother-in-law are both quite deaf so we've taught our son that he should look at them when he's speaking so that they can understand what he's saying to them. It's just showing consideration really isn't it ? 

Ethnicity:

Our son has parents of different ethnicity so he is (in newspeak) 'dual heritage.' In theory this means he has a rich and diverse shared cultural experience to draw upon. In reality it means he loves to eat indian food and knows how to say 'hat' in two languages. He also knows that anyone who wears a turban is from the same 'club' as my father. That Grandma will not tolerate shenanigans from errant toddlers late at night. He also knows that some things only happen at my parents house - ie. food is constantly offered - and some things only happen at Grandma's house - ie. Grandpa goes to play golf.

I recalled a Louis Theroux weird weekend programme in which he asked white South Africans about their attitudes towards black people. One of the people he met loved listening to Lionel Ritchie records, but admitted that of course he wouldn't be allowed into his home as he was black. It occurs to me that disliking someone for their skin colour, but being ok with listening to 'dancing on the ceiling,' is beyond parody. That's how I feel about having to explain that I'm not racist.  

Sexuality:

Now I do struggle to show that I'm not homophobic, I mean how do you do that exactly ? Do I point to my music collection and say, "look, so many gays !!" Or point out that I follow Boy George on my twitter feed ? Do I mention that it's irrelevant to me or is that going to sound too flippant ?

I was asked, "what if your child was gay ?" and what I wanted to say was, "I'd cheer, whoop and take joy in knowing that his gorgeous looks and sense of humour wouldn't be wasted on some silly girl." Does this make me heterophobic ? The best reply was given by our dear friends who were asked the same thing - she is a Christian - and in response to the question, "what would you do if you son was gay ?" she said, "erm, love him ?" I hope this was accompanied by a rolling of eyes and '"Duh !!"

When my boy has asked questions I've said, "You have a mummy and daddy who love each other. Some people have two daddies or two mummies who love each other." He's fine with that and if he asks more I will build on what I've already said.

Underlying all of this, however, is the sense that I'm trying to explain something that is startlingly obvious to me. Of course we don't treat someone as inferior because of their age or their height or their hair colour. That would be just stupid. 

Some questions are so dumbass they don't deserve a response. 

I'll be honest, I'm just not a very good Mummy.

I have failed my boy - I'm not fit to call myself his parent. Someone will soon be sending me this notice in the post from the Parenting Police headquarters.

On Friday after his swimming lesson one of the other mums came up to me to say he was splashing around and taking up a lot of the attention from the teacher and as a result the others were missing out. Apparently because I'm swimming in the adult pool she thinks I haven't seen him even though I look over every 3-4 minutes and every time I hear his name called (which is frequently). He loves swimming and he loves to splash around in the water. Some children don't love this and he is only 3 so he doesn't appreciate that his idea of fun is not theirs. I've spoken to him about it before, but he is 3 so I may well have to say it quite a few more times before it sinks in.

The problem is that after she'd had this dig at me for not sitting on the side watching him swim - like all the other mums do - I was upset at what she'd said. It made me resentful. So when we got in the car instead of being reasonable I took it out on my son. This was unfair as I don't think he's done anything wrong and the teacher hadn't said he was being disruptive either when I asked her. I was cross with the woman who told me off and as a result I told off my son. We had a row. There were tears. It was horrible.

So I feel I've failed because surely in the rules of how to be a parent one of the first ones is that you are on your child's side ? If I'm not on his side and defending him then who is ? It's my job to defend him and to speak up for him and to show that I believe in him. I'm not saying that if he hits or spits or steals I'm going to give him praise and defend his actions. I mean when he's done something that I don't think is wrong I should defend him shouldn't I ? If I don't then whose side am I on ?

I'm the oldest child of four and when I was young my parents were quite strict. When I fell over they would tell me off for not being careful or for not looking after my bike - it did cost money after all. I had a bloody knee from falling over in the park once, as I limped home I was told off because my socks were ruined. When my younger siblings fell over or got hurt in my care I was accused of trying to kill them - I am not joking this really happened. The result is that I never felt that they were on my side.

The other day my son fell off a chair at my parents house. I checked to make sure he wasn't hurt and told him that he should be more careful. My parents looked at me with what I can only call ironic concern - they thought I was being too hard on him. I was. Did I mention he's only 3 ? What is wrong with me ?

I'm grateful to my parents for a lot of things. They taught me a lot of important values and they raised me. They are wonderful grandparents and love my son. They are on his side as much as they weren't on mine. Maybe that's why I feel like such a traitor for not being kinder to him when things happen. I know how it feels if you make a mistake and your parents are the first ones to point out how stupid you are. That's why I'm so hard on myself first - I'd rather not hear how I've let them down and how disappointed they are. So why do I hear their words coming out of my mouth to my beloved son ?

I don't want my son to grow up thinking I am not on his side. I want him to know that I will defend him and stand up for him. When he's a grown man I want him to know I've always been proud of him. I will cheer his achievements and when things aren't going his way I'll be there to support and care for him or just to listen.

So why is this simple thing so difficult for me to get right ?

Mumsnet bedtime stories

On a rare night out last week I was invited to attend the launch for Mumsnet Book of Bedtime Stories. It was one of the few times I've been into town after dark and there was wine and everything !

The book is the result of a competition that invited Mumsnet and Gransnet members to submit bedtime stories to be chosen for this compilation. I did consider sending in a story, but it's devilish difficult to actually write a story for kids ! Michael Rosen whittled down the twenty shortlisted stories to the ten that appear in the book and it must have been very hard to choose. I don't envy him the decision, but what a fun job to do.

The authors were all at the launch and I got most (if not all) of them to sign a book for my boy. I also chatted to some of the illustrators about the fact that the stories look absolutely beautiful and they are all so different. There is a nice range of styles and age ranges in this book so it will last for a while and would make a wonderful gift to give a child, a parent or grandparent or anyone who loves picture books.

I'm going to give a copy to Mother-in-law so that my boy has one for when he stays with her. It's like having ten picture books in one - a space saver too !! I'd suggest it would also work to take on holiday so you don't have to carry lots of books to keep your little ones entertained. I can see this book becoming a firm favourite in our house and I'm delighted I got to talk to some of the people who created it. It's inspired me to give writing a children's story a go, but I've got a long way to go before I'm as good as these guys ! 

Thank you to Hannah from Mumsnet for inviting me to the book launch :o)

The 10 winning stories (in author alphabetical order) are:

• Polly the Jumping Cow by Jools Abrams-Humphries 
• Bedtime at the Lighthouse by Philip Bell
• Time for Bed by Michelle Eckhaus
• The Night Thief and the Moon by Katherine Latham
• A Parcel for Theo by Claire McCauley
• Princess Imogen's Independent Day by Christine O'Neill
• The Dancing Bear by Suzy Robinson
• The Sheriff of Rusty Nail by Sophie Wills
• Celeste Who Sang to the Stars by Kate Wilson
• Allie to the Rescue by Helen Yendall

If you are looking for a special and beautiful present for a child (or a grandparent) Click here to buy the book from Amazon

Disclosure: This is a personal review of the book - I was not paid to attend, but I did get a free book.

(My cheeky little) Devil's haircut

Today was a rite of passage for our boy. He had his first haircut. I have been distraught for weeks since we decided to do it. We have grown his hair since he was born and it is gorgeous and curly and he gets compliments everywhere he goes. However, the nightly chore of combing through his luscious locks has become increasingly difficult as the knots and tangles cause him to scream and shout so much I am convinced the neighbours will report us to social services.

The reason we haven't cut his hair before is because my family are Sikh and keeping hair long is one of the articles of faith. Hubbie is not a Sikh, but we agreed that we would grow his hair and as much as possible raise him with an understanding of this part of his heritage. That made the decision even harder. I didn't cut my hair until the age of 26 (long after I left Uni) as I just believed it would be wrong and my parents would be disappointed if I did. I felt the same about cutting my boy's hair.

It is our decision as his parents though so I've been talking to him about it for weeks and he has been looking forward to it. His hair was so long he was having to constantly push it out of his eyes and at nursery I took to tying it back so that it wouldn't annoy him or get smothered in paint or playdoh. When Hubbie went to the barbers earlier in the week he took the boy with him - they were talking about the big day and the boy said, "when I get my hair cut short I won't have to wear a hairband any more." Can't say fairer than that can you ?

So today we all took the train to town to get his hair cut with my hairdresser - Anderson - who I love and trust. He was absolutely delighted when I asked him to do it as he knows how big a deal it is. We arrived and the boy got to play with a water spritzer - which he could have done all day - then the gown was put on. Anderson suggested I sit the boy on my lap and wanted me to do the first cut. It was very emotional.

Then the boy got into the swing of things and as he watched the beautiful curls being gathered up by me to give to Grandma and Nani-mummy and others fell on the floor he chided me and Hubbie to leave his hair. It would seem he is not as emotionally attached to it as we are - just as well really.  

Now he has shorter hair. It doesn't take as long to run a comb through. He looks a lot more grown up. 

He is still very cute - just don't tell him I said so - it's not good for his image. 

Welcome to party central (atchoo !!)

We've all got sniffles.

Well maybe not the cat - I can't be sure if he has, but he was sneezing a bit yesterday so it is possible that the entire family is coming down with a cold.

Hubbie had a nap with the boy yesterday as he looked so exhausted I was worried he was going to pass out so I suggested he might take the chance to lie down while the house was quiet. I drank tea and checked work email while the cat kept me company on the sofa. Then this morning I woke up (sort of) with the beginning of a sore throat. Of course this is happening because we are hosting a birthday party for a dozen toddlers on Sunday and there is so much to do we need to be in full health.

I've written (somewhat unsympathetically) about man flu before, but I also know that Hubbie takes great pride in not taking time off work for illness. On this occasion we all need to be fully functioning so that the prospect of 24 small feet and 24 sticky hands do not send me into a maternal meltdown after the kids have played in the garden and the cake has been scoffed. I've been praying all week for good weather as we want to use the garden for the kids' games. I paid a gardener a not insubstantial sum to tidy the fallen leaves and hanging holly in the 'woods' at the end of the garden so that we can have a treasure hunt.

So far I've ordered the balloons, the shopping is being delivered on Saturday evening so if anything is missing I still have time to pick it up on Sunday before the guests arrive. I've checked that I have birthday cards and have ordered all the goody bag items - none of which have arrived yet - thanks Amazon. My fabulous cupcake making friend SJ is making lots of small cakes for the party. I've bought Gruffalo tablecloths, bendy straws, cups, plates and cutlery that is garden friendly.

There is still a lot to do though and being poorly is just not an option. I have a cake to bake and decorate, Hubbie has a gazebo to put up outside the back door in case of rain, I need to get some wrapping paper (or I can recycle last year's Thomas paper that I kept) and if the goody bag contents (and bags) don't arrive by tomorrow then I have to get those too. I am debating whether it's worth cleaning the house before family arrive as I'd rather not invite them into a dirty house, but as I will have an inevitable clean up to do on Monday do I really want to do it twice ? Oh who am I kidding, this is me, of course I'll do it twice !

So wish me luck.

And send Lemsip !

What do you give the 3 year old who has everything ?

Now I realise he doesn't actually have everything, but it must seem that way to his adoring (and adored) family members who have been asking what to get him for this birthday.

My baby boy will be 3 next Monday. His party is on Sunday and I have been asked what he'd like as a present. From me and Daddy  he is getting a microscooter which he has been promised since he was two as we thought he was too young back then. The list of what he already has is pretty long though, so it's difficult to suggest anything to kind and loving friends and family. Instead I'll tell you what he loves and you can make up your own minds:

• Last weekend Hubbie took the boy to the Metrobus open day in Beddington. He drove a bus and went through the bus wash - which was a bit scary apparently. He had a wonderful time pretending to be a driver and he came home with a poster of buses and a new fridge magnet. That's a good day out in anybody's book isn't it ?

• Hubbie took him to two football matches this weekend and at the second one he was playing with this regular footie buddie Freya who is older than him and often takes him under her wing. It was while they were playing on the stand that he clonked his nose on a metal bar and unleashed a tsunami of blood that sent Hubbie running towards the team physio - Chopper. She assured him that he hadn't broken his nose and was going to be ok. The boy was just very concerned that Daddy's shirt was dirty now. Once patched up and declared fit he ran onto the pitch - his favourite bit of the game.

• On Sunday we all ate pizza for dinner and he had great fun using a pizza cutting wheel for the first time. I remembered I had a toy one that we'd got free with the Cbeebies magazine a while back so I let him have that after dinner. He also enjoyed chomping on the 'noisy' crusts - that must explain why his hair is so curly !!

• He loves singing and dancing. My mum bought him his own 'radio' last year - it's a pretend CD player and he likes to switch it on and dance around the room changing the volume and speed of the tunes on it. It's hilarious to watch and tires him out as well - a win win !!

• I cannot accurately convey the look of excitement when he spots Jiggles Bear waiting in his car seat after he's had a fun day at nursery. He adores his first bear so much it is now ragged and smelly from being loved so much - aren't we all ?  They have a snuggle on the sofa at home with the boy sucking his fingers - which he's done since he was born - it's a picture of toddler bliss. I prepare his dinner and they catch up on what they've been doing all day. It's so simple and makes him so happy.

So that's what my boy loves to do. Yes he loves running around outside. He also loves toys and noise and singing at the top of his voice in the back of the car. Cake makes him very happy indeed. It is all part of what makes him so very precious.

As for what you can get him for his birthday - well he does need new shoes actually.

Brighton Beach (bank holiday) memoirs

So this was the first Bank Holiday I've spent where I was away from my boy for a full 24 hours without seeing him at all. He woke up and went to sleep without me or Hubbie there to tuck him in and he slept fine and woke up full of the joys of a weekend spent with Grandma and Grandpa. I barely slept a wink (and not because of the sofa bed in my friend's house) and woke up feeling tired and wanting to call him. It was too early at 6am so I held out until after 8am and he was all cheery and waiting to tell me he'd eaten Weetabix and a Peppa Pig yoghurt for breakfast. Phew !!

Hubbie and I had a lovely leisurely Sunday morning with friends who treated us to a luxurious brunch and we even bought a Sunday paper which we later read on Brighton Beach. I recall years ago a friend telling us that once you have kids you'll never have the time to read a Sunday paper again. He was right as this is the first time since our boy was born that we have had the chance to. I also remembered my friend Lisa who came to our wedding sans infants as her two had gone to visit their Grandmother in Belfast with their Dad and she said she felt like a piece of her was missing the whole day. I felt like that this weekend.

I had a lovely time with Hubbie and it was great to go to a 2 day festival and do grown up stuff like getting stuck behind hundreds of mods on scooters on their way from Brighton to Eastbourne. We did make it to see the band just in time, but only just. Oh the spills and thrills !! It was even better as I knew from talking to our boy that he was having a wonderful time ruling the roost at his grandparents house so I wasn't worried about him at all. I did, however, feel like a part of me was not there. Everywhere I went I had to talk about him so everyone would know I am a Mum and I have a son and even though he isn't with me he is a part of me.

In his own way Hubbie also showed his parenting credentials by wearing his Daddy Pig t- shirt. However, standing in a children's playground unaccompanied by our son he did look a little suspicious so I have advised that in future he only wear it when he has the boy close by so that people don't mistake him for a wrong 'un.

When we got back to Grandma's late last night I put my head round the bedroom door to see my boy sleeping and my heart felt whole again. I slept soundly and woke up keen to hear the tell-tale jingle of his beloved bear that signals he's awake and moving around in bed. He smiled when he saw me and asked where Daddy, Grandpa and Grandma were.

Tonight when we were home and had our usual pre-bedtime chat about our day he told he he'd had a 'lovely holiday at Grandma's house.' I asked if he'd like to do it again and he said he would.

I hugged him a bit too tight and he put his arms around me.

Maybe next year I'll be a bit less anxious about it all.

The Edge of The Sea for Hubbie and me :o)

Me and Hubbie are going to the Edge of the Sea 2 day festival in Brighton this weekend featuring Dave Gedge's bands Cinerama and the Wedding Present. We booked the tickets in January for both days and in order to make this happen my planning has been as follows:

• asked the parents-in-law to look after our boy (father-in-law, or Captain America as I call him, is playing golf so it's mostly Grandma really)
• checked my lovely friend Soraya in Lewes can put us up on Saturday night and we can leave the car at her house
• gave Hubbie our itinerary for the weekend including options for eating
• bought in food the boy likes to take to Grandma's
• made sure the neighbours can feed the cat while we're away 

I'm already traumatised at the thought of being away from my boy for two days, but mostly because there's still so much to do before we get to see the Wedding Present live on Saturday evening.

Saturday

• Pack overnight bags for me, Hubbie and the boy - making sure we have baby monitor, night nappies, toothbrush and child sized toilet seat for the boy
• Drive to Grandma's house and drop off the boy 
• Get on the road to Lewes to drop off car and pick up keys to let ourselves in on Saturday night
• Take train from Lewes to Brighton to the gig 
• Chill out at the gig 

Sunday

• Brunch in Lewes
• Back to Brighton for day 2 of the Edge of the Sea gig 
• End of gig drive to Grandma's to be there when the boy wakes up in the morning

Monday

• Surprise the boy when he wakes up 
• Drive to my Mum and Dad's house for lunch 
• Back home to be ignored by a moody cat and get ready for the week ahead. 

At some point I expect I'll relax and enjoy the bands at the gig - that's the intention anyway.

Whatever you're doing I hope you have a lovely Bank Holiday Weekend :o)

Friday I'm in pain… I mean love

I'm celebrating Friday today. Well actually I'm showing gratitude that we've all made it to Friday in one piece - which has been no mean feat I assure you ! Now let me say up front I love my son. He is the apple of my eye, the beat of my heart, a precious gift, yada yada yada. That is a given. So what I say is by way of illustration and not a statement of intent.

You may have noticed I've been a bit quiet on the blogging front this last few days. If you did notice - aw bless you and thanks. If you didn't - well, how self-involved are you ? So we've all made it to the end of the week - albeit exhausted, aching and generally feeling like you do when you get to the end of a really long run on a hot day. I haven't had a night of unbroken sleep since last week and if my son says, "Mummy stop shouting" one more time in response to my shouting "Just listen will you ?" I will probably lose my mind completely. He hasn't been this restless at night since he was a newborn and had sleep feeds. Now it's a shouted demand for a drink or needing to use the toilet. By the time he greets us with a cheery "good morning" at 6am I'm only just settling down after the latest expedition.

I read a blog post by another parent whose child is being a bit 'challenging' at the moment so I think it might be something in the air. Mine is generally grumpier and more belligerant than usual and as a result so am I. I would have said it's the school holidays but his nursery is still open and his routine hasn't changed so it can't be that. Unless he's making a stand against not getting a summer break in which case he knows far too much. I have seriously considered giving him to the rag and bone man when he passes by (yes we do have them in Croydon still) only he hasn't been by lately and I'm not sure how I'd explain the absence to Hubbie. The boy has no idea how close he's come to becoming a Junior Steptoe.

I have needed things to cheer me up this week and thankfully there have been a few, so I thought I'd share them:

• On Monday a nice man knocked on the door and delivered a bundle of Twinings goodies which I had won on Twitter. How very civilised. The tins look pretty and it's always nice to have delicious tea isn't it ? 

• On Tuesday evening I went into the garden and picked some apples from the trees in our garden. The same trees that were completely bare last year. I haven't even come close to finishing picking and I have a basket full already. That's a lot of apple crumble, Eve's pudding and tarte tatin - I don't hear the boys complaining though.

• Wednesday was date night and we went to watch Alan Partridge Alpha Papa - it was very funny indeed and we had a great time. I laughed and laughed. I also found out that I'd won a goodie bag of Alan Partridge movie stuff from Vue cinemas which was a nice surprise. If I can hide it from Hubbie I might pop some of the goodies into his birthday bundle of pressies in a few months time.

• Today I had my day with the boy and we went to a recently opened store on Purley Way called Kiddicare. While we were there I needed the loo so I took him with me - they frown upon leaving your children running around and touching toys apparently. When we got into the cubicle we saw these:

• That is the single most wonderful bit of thinking about parents with small children that I've seen in a long time. We all know that cubicles are always too small and trying to get a child onto the loo and going yourself are near impossible. Here is the solution - big and small loos. Then when we went to wash our hands there were side by side sinks at different heights and my son actually washed his hands without any fuss at all. I think we might have to live there.

So we're here at the end of the week and I have almost no voice, my body hurts and we have Grandparents visiting tomorrow so I might just spend the day in bed while they entertain each other and the boy. If you have more than one child to entertain this summer holiday I sympathise with you. I have no idea how you manage and I admire you more than I can say. I know it isn't much, but I'm giving you my smile today - I have enough good fortune to spare :o)

What do I tell my toddler ?

It's been a really odd day today. it started off normal enough with all of us going swimming then for a change I took the boy shopping while Hubbie mowed the front garden and fired up his beloved barbecue for lunch. As we were coming home I got a call from Hubbie that there was a car in front of our drive so I'd have to park on the road. No big deal, but I was worried as I knew what this probably meant.

Our neighbours on both sides are lovely and we have a good relationship with them. On one side are a couple who were both widowed in that last few years and who have grown up children. The other side are an older couple who also have grown up kids and are retired. All of the neighbours have taken care of us, our cat and our son at some point and we've done the same for them. The older couple kind of 'adopted' our boy as a surrogate grandchild as theirs is almost 11 years old and they missed having a little child around. 

Not long after we moved in I was talking to the retired chap and he told me he was being treated for cancer and was travelling to St Thomas' hospital for his chemotherapy. In between sessions he was still able to tend to his garden and play bowls with his wife and they went on holidays and we watered his plants. I recall one very hot Sunday afternoon last summer (not unlike today) when they called us over the fence to join them and their son and daughter-in-law for drinks. Our boy ran around having fun, we chilled out with them and it was just really lovely. 

We found out later that the chemo had been unsuccessful and that his cancer had spread. Then at Christmas he was in hospital and since then he has been very seriously ill. All our son was aware of was the he was 'not well' and he would say that to us as an explanation for not having seen the man next door for a while. In the last few weeks his condition deteriorated and nurses and doctors became a regular fixture at their home. 

Then today came the news we had been expecting, but dreading. The car across our drive was the undertakers who had arrived for 'the body' as he passed away this morning. We took the boy into the garden to play with his new den so that he wouldn't see what was going on. Hubbie and I bowed our heads in respect as he was taken away and both shed some tears for him and for his family's loss. 

Then we went on with our day as normal, the barbecue we had planned went ahead as family members called in next door to visit our newly widowed neighbour. We put a card through the door to offer our condolences and later on watched Andy Murray in the men's final at Wimbledon. Our boy has now witnessed a piece of history as it happened. 

The dilemma I have now is how do I tell my son what has happened ? What can I say to him that he will understand ? He drew a picture for our neighbour as I asked him to and came with me to post the card through the door, but he didn't ask why. 

At some point he will wonder where his lovely, kind, playful surrogate grandparent is and I just don't know what I'm going to say.