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. 

A room of one's own

When we bought our first house together me and Hubbie were keen to have a garden. We were both living in flats in South West London and wanted some outdoor space. He had a small courtyard garden in his bachelor pad in Wandsworth and we would have brunch sitting outside and the neighbourhood cats would pop over to visit. On one memorable occasion when he had the front and back doors open one of the feline neighbours ran through the flat to make a hasty escape from someone or something, not even so much as an 'excuse me' if you don't mind ! My flat wasn't so much of a cat thoroughfare seeing as it was on the sixth floor overlooking Battesea Power Station and with about 12 train tracks running past the window. It was a spectacular view of the River Thames and the New Year's Eve fireworks alone were worth the mortgage !!

 Anyway, when we were looking for a home we wanted a garden because we knew we wanted to rehome a cat and we love spending time outdoors. In our first home together we had a lavender filled idyll where we spent most evenings and weekends in the summer months. I always called it our 'favourite room' and it really was - even with the East Grinstead line going past. Yes train lines are a theme with us. Then as our family grew with our boy joining the fold we decided to move somewhere bigger and even toyed with the idea of leaving the area so that we'd be nearer our respective parents.  After some to-ing and fro-ing and not a little bit of stress we finally found this house and when we read the details Hubbie said, "this must be a misprint, it says the garden is 200 ft long." We came to have a look around with our tiny little baby boy and saw this enormous garden and I just knew we had to live here. Yes it's a lot of work, but more than anything it has given us a whole new massive room to play with.

At first we didn't know much about what was in the garden as we moved here in Oct so the apple trees were full and the leaves were starting to shed, but it took our first year here to appreciate the full beauty of how many flowers and plants we have. Only today I realised that the white flowers growing on the plants I gleefully hacked back last week are Lily of the Valley (and only then because I saw our beloved bees on them and took a big whiff of the scent and it had a distinct hint of Yardley about it !). There are roses all over and after an apple free year last year we have trees groaning with fruit this Summer - bring on the crumbles and pies !! I also have a plethora of beautiful flowers that I can pop into a simple glass vase to bring some of the garden indoors - it adds to my love of 'indoor-outdoor' decor.

This year we've been able to construct more of a play garden space for our son to enjoy. We eat outdoors every chance we get (and Hubbie needs little excuse to fire up his prized gas barbecue when it's as hot as it is at the moment) and he sees it as we do as an extension of the house. Whether he's playing football or chucking water around it's all about having some fun and being outside. We do, however, draw the line at having a trampoline in our garden. I'm not going to get all Kate Hopkins and judgey about it, we just don't want to have one in our favourite room.

Having said that Hubbie has been busy this afternoon building our boy his own 'quiet space' outside. A room of his own where he can contemplate deep thoughts and park his favourite cars underneath when he's finished playing. He's already got some furniture in there and I expect at bedtime tonight he will run in there and hide as he knows Daddy can't fit in there to get him out.

I'm out this evening at a ball - which I need to go and get ready for, like ten minutes ago.

I expect to get home and find them both asleep in the 'new house.'

A blog post of two halves - just like an Easter egg :o)

At the start of this week I went along to a peaceful protest outside parliament to support independent midwives in their campaign to continue working in the UK. Their work is under threat due to the requirement that they have indemnity insurance in order to practise which comes into effect in October. As most independent midwives are self employed and there is currently no insurance product suitable for them this would mean they could no longer offer their services to expectant mothers. I stood in the cold on Monday morning with these wonderful women because it was my good fortune to have the personal care of independent midwives and I feel I've been spoiled.

I did attend a few NHS appointments so I can make some comparison. To be able to see the same midwife every time and to have the continuity of care made all the difference to me, especially when things did not go to plan with the birth - do they ever ? I interviewed Kay Hardie on my radio show about this campaign so you can hear her talk passionately about why it is important to allow midwives to offer women the choice of how and where they give birth. The reason we are doing this now is to find a solution rather than wake up in October and mourn the loss. It would be so tragic if the only recognition independent midwives were to get was because they were no longer there.

I'm testing this theory that you only notice it when it's gone with my boys. I've decided to take the day off. I'm not going anywhere or doing anything special, but from this evening until Tuesday morning (when Hubbie goes back to work) I'm also not doing anything for Hubbie or son. The result of this could be that they have chocolate eggs and weetabix for breakfast and go to football tomorrow in their pyjamas, but if so that's in Hubbie's hands. To be honest, that might be their preference anyway.

My plan is to:

• get up early and practise yoga before they wake up
• eat whatever I want for breakfast, rather than my son's partially eaten toast, his leftover fruit pancake or a spotty banana while rushing out of the door
• clean the house while listening to Radio 4 
• eat my lunch at lunchtime and not 4 o'clock as usual
• settle on the sofa to watch a movie with a big cup of tea by my side

They should be at football so it's just me and the cat having some bank holiday fun together. Yes cleaning the house (mine, no one else's) is my idea of a good time - don't judge :o)

At the end of this little experiment one of two things will have happened:

1. The world will come crashing to a halt and kingdoms will crumble (ok the pyjamas and breakfast thing is more likely)
or
2. Hubbie will manage to parent perfectly well without my interference

I suspect it'll be the latter, but either way I get a day off so I win :o)

Foodie Friday: the highchair gastronome

I'm on a new crusade. I wish it was as worthy as finding a cure for a serious illness or saving the Earth's precious resources. Instead it's something that I took for granted would be simple. Feeding my son decent food.

In the beginning it was simple enough, I breastfed until he chose to stop. That way he ate when he was hungry and as much as he needed. Then when it came to weaning I always took food with us wherever we went so I knew the provenance of what he ate and there was a pretty good chance that he'd eat it. At nursery he is encouraged to try new things and has developed a taste for foods that I haven't tried to give him so it has widened my repertoire of what to offer at mealtimes.

When we are out and about - which is most days as he is a very energetic child - I always carry fresh fruit for him and if we are passing a shop or a market I know I can get him an apple or a banana as an instant snack. We've taken our son out to eat with us since he was born so he is used to the formality of dining out. He has been to the Champagne bar at St Pancras Station, Pont De La Tour by Tower Bridge and is a regular at our favourite local haunt Apatura where he has his own table and they even let him wander around between courses. All of these are restaurants for adults and he eats what we eat only smaller portions. Except at the last one where he gets the biggest plate of pudding I've ever seen so I often have to 'help.'

Establishments that offer a menu specifically for children baffle me. If I want to feed him lunch the children's choices appear to be: pasta smothered in melted cheese, breadcrumbed everything & chips, chips, chips. Of course my son loves chips - he is my son after all - however, he also loves risottos, biryanis, spicy curries, minestrone and vegetable soups, toasted bagels, chapattis and singapore noodles.

I get that pasta and chips are cheap and easy foods to prepare so that is why they are prevalent on all menus, but the dishes my son eats are all simple to prepare too. Additionally they can be made with low cost ingredients and can be made in bulk thus creating economies of scale. Yet they just don't appear on the children's menus I see.

The last straw was this week at a local kids' cafe with soft play. I've never been before, but heard it was good and all the signs around the counter promised 'freshly made on the premises' food. What we got was a scalding hot plate of microwaved pasta with a smattering of insipid tomato sauce and watery meatballs. He proclaimed it was "too hot" then when he tried the meatball spat it out in disgust. He NEVER spits out food. It was appalling. My own lunch was as bad and it inspired me to try something.

Can we use our collective wisdom and experience to create a good food guide for kids ? I remember the places that take care of my son and tell everyone how good they are. Hence my glowing recommendations for Apatura in South Croydon - they treat us well and we love eating there.

If you are disappointed with the food you are served for your child tell the owner (nicely) and give them the chance to improve. The places that are no good I just refuse to eat at again. I don't want to badmouth them on a forum - that achieves nothing. The power we have as parents and carers is immense. Let's use it wisely.

Our children deserve much better food.

If you know where it can be found please share below.