My first, my last, my everything (with apologies to Barry White)

When I was weaning Brown Bear it was important to me to know the provenance and ingredients in all the foods I was giving my baby. I chose organic fruit and vegetables and gave strict instructions about what he was allowed to eat when he was at nursery or with family. Both my boys are huge fans of Petit Filous - we have a steady supply of them in our fridge at all times - and have done since I first weaned Brown Bear. In fact when we visit grandparents they also have them in the fridge for our boys. It has been a staple on our breakfast table for years and I'm delighted that Blue Bear also loves Petit Filous. Now there are specific ones that are suitable for younger children as a 'first Filous' choice. My First Petits Filous is a low sugar, vanilla-flavour weaning fromage frais, designed to introduce children to fromage frais from 6 months. All ingredients are 100% naturally sourced, so parents can rest assured there are no artificial colours, flavours, sweeteners or added preservatives. If these had been around when my boys were small I would have bought these for them as a 'first Filous.'

First Filous - 100% natural.

Since we adopted Blue Bear over a year ago it's been one new thing after another. From meeting him to introducing him to Brown Bear and the transition from our room to his own room and from a cot to a toddler bed. The milestones just keep coming. So when we were asked to look back on some of the firsts we have experienced I was delighted to oblige:

First holiday:

Before he lived with us Blue Bear had not been to the beach and seeing his reaction to walking on sand was hilarious. He looked a bit perturbed by it until he got hold of a bucket and spade and there was no stopping him. Maybe this summer we can tempt him to also paddle in the sea ? I hope so.

First words:

One of the consequences of his early life is that Blue Bear did not have any speech when he came to us. He communicated, but it was mostly signs and pointing at things he wanted. He learned to call dogs 'oof 'oof and all cats are called 'eo after our cat Neo. As time has progressed he's learned so much and being at pre-school has also helped him find his voice. My favourite has to be when I ask him what he wants to eat and he points at the fridge and declares, 'frais.' It might not have been his first word, but it's certainly one of the early ones.

Easy Rider on his first bike

First Transport:

Another word he uses often is 'bike' - which is what he calls the Scuttlebug that he loves to ride all the time. It's the first self propelled vehicle he's has and he is incredibly fast on it. When we are in the park he races around on it and tries so hard to be the first in the play park. Brown Bear has the advantage right now as he is much faster, but I'm sure he'll catch up soon enough.


First to blow out the candles:

We didn't get to celebrate his first birthday as he came to us a few months after he turned one, but we did make a big deal of it when was two. It was a revelation to discover that despite having almost no language he would 'sing' along to 'Happy Birthday' and is always the first to try and blow out the candles on the cake. It caused much hilarity on my birthday when he sat on my lap and we were barely through the first line of the song when he blew out my candles - Brown Bear was enraged !

Wax on wax off

First job:

This weekend Brown Bear had been staying with my parents so Hubbie decided to enlist the help of Blue Bear with the chores. It seems he's a natural when it comes to washing the car. He did tip the water bucket over a few times which caused some rows with his co-worker, but I was impressed with the finish and would certainly recommend their service to others.


It's been such a pleasure getting to know our boy and seeing how he's changing all the time is just magical. The first I'm looking forward to is taking them both to Legoland in the Summer - I'll keep you posted.

This post is an entry for BritMums #PetitsFilousFirsts Linky Challenge, sponsored by Petits Filous

How to stay married and (mostly) sane

It's the August Bank Holiday weekend and me and Hubbie are spending some 'quality time' together while our boy has a mini holiday with Grandma. We did it for the first time last year and despite it being really weird to not have our boy with us we did get used to it - eventually - and had a fab time. So much so that we've decided to do it again this year.

Hubbie pointed out the other day that we've been together ten years and it occurred to me that we must be doing something right. You see we're both on our second (and hopefully forever) marriage. We made some mistakes in our respective first marriages and we hope we've learned enough to not repeat them. We're by no means experts, nor are we saddoes who buy each other teddy bears declaring our mutual love all the time - when a friend suggested recently that we are quite lovey dovey I tried to work out where she had got that impression from and I still have no idea.

What I can do is tell you what I've found helps to keep marital harmony - or at least some semblance of sanity in an otherwise chaotic toddler management programme that we both seem to be entrapped within. I can't promise that these will work for everyone, but here are the main ones I can share:

Don't point out that the gaps (that are still growing) in the kitchen floor are a result of his shoddy work in plumbing in the washing machine. This caused flooding under the laminate boards and they've separated while drying out - and yes, I do realise the irony of mentioning this online. 

I've realised that it's not a good idea to try and hang anything from pictures to coats on hooks that Hubbie has put up. We know that DIY isn't his thing and it takes many attempts to put up hooks, etc and leaves the walls looking like an inefficient and short-sighted sniper has had a go at them.

Don't mention weight gain. This works both ways, of course, but especially as Hubbie's parents like to point out how big he is every time they see him (he's not). They know better than to say anything to me besides, 'have you lost weight ?' He does the classic, " you always look lovely to me," line, but is also honest if I ask him if a dress suits me or not. Honest in a way that won't get a vase thrown at his head, though, not in a, "did you wear that when you were pregnant ?" way.

When we were on holiday Hubbie set the TV in the gym to Radio 4 so I could listen to the Archers while I was on the surfboard thing that he told me about. This was while he took our boy off for a play so that I could have some 'me time.'

When we met I earned more than him and it never bothered him - it might not seem much, but some men don't take too well to that sort of thing. Now I don't earn anything and he's fine with that too - I'm not, but that's another story for another day.

I love dim sum, but Hubbie doesn't do 'communal food' that everyone dips into from the table. If I want to have dim sum I go out with my friends, but sometimes I will buy it from the big Chinese supermarket and make it at home so that he can enjoy dim sum without having to dip in with other people. Same applies to indian food like bhajis.

Shared interests: we present a radio show together - ok not everyone will do this, but Hubbie prepares the songs and does the pre-production and I do the on air production stuff like the desk and mics. We joke that it's the only time we talk to each other, but it genuinely is something we love to do together.

Having separate interests: I have no interest in sport whatsoever. I may have mentioned this before - many times. However, Hubbie takes the boy to football every week during the season and I do things that I like. I might go to a matinee or an exhibition or just go for a nice meal / afternoon tea with a friend.

When we were first dating we went out for dinner one evening and I wanted to order gnocchi, but they had run out. A few days later when I was at his place for dinner he made me gnocchi because he wanted to make me happy. I know, I know it's sappy, shut up it made me happy ok ?

Lastly - and this is either pathetic or romantic depending on what your take is. When we have a bowl of sharing food like prawn crackers or nacho chips or pretzels I eat all the broken ones so that he doesn't have to. I honestly think Hubbie has no idea that I do this. It's daft isn't it ? We both love to eat chocolate, but I don't do pralines so he eats all the ones I don't from a selection box.

Maybe my mantra for a successful marriage should be:

"Share the love, the music and the laughter, but eat the crumbs when he's not looking and he'll always make sure that nuts don't ruin your day."

Have a super bank holiday weekend :)

And matching glasses - natch :)

I tell you what I want, what I really really want...

Well, if I'm being entirely honest it's to have one day where I don't feel overwhelmed by the toddler terror in my home. The domestic terrorist if you will.

More and more, recently I'm convinced I'm having a nervous breakdown and it's all because of someone who's not even 4 years old yet. When my family jumped at the chance to have my boy over to stay last week I was relieved to have a break from him. Me and Hubbie spent the evening missing him and wondering how this was the first night we'd ever spent at home without him. I was about to pat myself on the back for finding a sanity solution when I phoned to say good morning only to be told he'd head butted someone. Before breakfast.

Sigh. Calm shattered.

In my desperation I burden anyone I meet with my frustration at my toddler:

• The woman who made my free tea at Waitrose: She assured me it won't last and when I said could he come to live with her she smiled kindly. I think that's still a no though.

• One of the women who works at my son's nursery: She suggested I send him to Ju-Jitsu. That's all I need, my violent toddler learning how to hit more accurately !

• My yoga students who have grown up children - and in one case grandchildren: They advised it's a phase. Apparently they're worse later. AARRGGHHH !!! 

• I must have been stressed as I even found myself talking to Emma Bunton (you know her off of the Spice Girls) about my errant boy. We're not mates or anything I saw her at an event and she told me her boys were the same and to hang in there. She then said my boy looks gorgeous and to give him a hug from her. I officially love her now :) 

My new best friend :)

If you are also struggling to work out if you're losing your mind or just a bit tired, I've put together a little quiz like they do in magazines. Not that I read magazines of course, I'm far too busy / stressed / tired for that kind of indulgence ! Anyway, here goes:

1. Do you wake up already exhausted to the sound of, "Mummy, can I brush my teeth ?" "Mummy, can I feed the cat ?" "Mummy, I need the toilet" ?

2. Is it normal for you to feed a least 3 other people/pets before you are fully awake ?

3. Do you regularly eat 'lunch' at 4pm having missed breakfast as well ?

4. Is a lost hat / sock / shoe reason enough for a complete meltdown (yours) ?

5. Do you cry at every single thing featuring babies, dogs or 'inspirational mottos' on facebook or in adverts ?

6. Have you used your child's full name (yes, including middle names) more than once in the last week ?

If you can answer yes to all these questions then rest assured you're probably not having a nervous breakdown, you're just being held captive by a toddler. It does improve, apparently, but I can't tell you when.

He's asleep on the sofa at the moment, so I'm going to tiptoe to the kitchen and make some tea.

Wish me luck !

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

Baking banana and blueberry muffins with my boy

On a Thursday my boy is usually exhausted from his 3 days at nursery so we take it nice and easy with some relaxing home-based activities. The night before I set out some puzzles, toys and games to play so that when he comes down to his playroom he has some things to keep him occupied, but not tire him out too much. This week it was a repeat of the fire engine themed day we did a few weeks back as he loved it so much.

As I wandered into the kitchen to prepare his mammoth breakfast of porridge and eggy bread - that boy can eat ! - I noticed that I needed to use up eggs and some quite black bananas. As I also had some blueberries in the fridge I thought I'd do some baking in the afternoon that would double up as a football snack for Hubbie in the evening - apparently England are playing in some kickabout thing with a few lads down the park and he's quite into it. I planned to be out running or something as it's not really my cup of tea. 

Can you tell what it is yet ? 

I got all the ingredients ready - I always have basic baking items like flour, sugar, baking powder and bicarbonate of soda in the cupboard - and went to take a shower. I heard the boy call up to me and he was chomping on the blueberries. I asked him to leave some for the muffins we were making and managed to curtail his pleas for 'just one more' so that we had enough left. 

Adding blueberries carefully

Counting cup cases

Stirring the mixture nicely 

He was actually a very good helper. He counted out the cake cases into the tin and worked out how many more he needed to fill the gaps. Then he assisted me with the weighing and stirring - his favourite bit - then mashed the bananas and added the blueberries into the mixture. He did help a bit with putting it into the cases, but it is pretty sloppy so I took over and he asked if he could lick the spoon. I've never been into eating uncooked cake or biscuit dough, but he explained that George Pig does it so it must be ok. Can't argue with that logic can I ? 

Yummy muffins

Once they were in the oven we set the timer to one hour and he said he'd sit on the step and wait for them to cook. I explained that it would be a while and he might like to go and watch some telly or have a play, so he wandered off, but kept trying to convince me that he had heard the bell go off. I went to listen to the Archers and wash up all the things we'd used and when I looked back he was nodding off. As a result when the bell actually did ring he was fast asleep !! 

Far too tired to taste test 

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 :) 

Easy Like Sunday Morning

At the moment our boy is testing my sanity.

He screams, he rages, he throws things.

I find myself arguing with a 3 year old as if he's an adult (me and Hubbie rarely argue, he doesn't join in, so it's pointless)

It makes me feel like I'm rubbish as a parent. 

Then on Sunday morning we left Hubbie to lie in and came downstairs to give him some peace.

The boy sat on my lap on the sofa and we cuddled while watching TV. 

It made me so very happy :) 

This post is part of Mummy Never Sleeps linky "All the small things" 

Review: Nothing But & Fru Snax

As you probably know I'm trying to get back into fitness right now so I'm watching what I eat and exercising every day. In order to not spoil all the good work I also need to keep drinking lots of water and find that while eating balanced meals is all well and good it's nice to have a little something to nibble on when I get hunger pangs between meals.

The problem is snacks like crisps (too much salt) or dried fruit (too much sugar) can be laden with calories and don't really hit the spot that well. I've tried various options, but unless you prepare your own pots of fresh fruit and veg every day it's a bit of a faff to find low fat and healthy snacks that aren't processed.

I was sent some of the dried vegetable snacks from Nothing But to try and I'll admit at first glance these snacks do resemble pot pourri. I've tried vegetable chips before, but they're fried and salted so they aren't exactly a healthy option. The vegetables in Nothing But are dehydrated and packed so they are not only completely free of fat or added salt they're also very low in calories with each pack coming in at well under 50 calories so I can have them as a 'power snack' on my diet.

The varieties I was sent were beetroot and parsnip and pepper and mange tout - they also do a sweetcorn and pea one - and they do taste good. I prefer the beetroot and parsnip personally, but they are both quite nice. These are nothing like vegetable chips as they are a lot drier and the mouth feel is a proper crunch, but without the greasiness.

I was also sent some Fru Snax which are dried fruit and 'yoghurt melts.' These are available in peach and vanilla and fig and sour cherry flavours. These taste delicious and are slightly higher in fat and calories, but still far fewer than a chocolate or cereal bar. It's a small snack and I'd be happy to give this to my toddler as it's easy to handle and tasty too. With a lot less sugar than a packet of raisins it's also a better option for his teeth.  

It's not always easy to find healthy food on the move so having a snack in your bag is often the only option. I carry fruit and water most of the time to ensure I am not tempted to buy something unhealthy to eat when I'm out. These bags are around the same size as a packet of crisps so they'd also be ideal for packed lunches or picnics. When we go on days out I like to have a few things to offer my boy in case he gets bored or hungry while we're out and it's not time for a meal yet. These would do the trick for that as well.

I would suggest having a drink handy as they can be a bit dry, but otherwise the Nothing But and Fru Snax range are a nice addition to the already burgeoning 'healthy food' market and for a change they actually are what they say.

Disclosure: We were sent samples of Nothing But and Fru Snax in order to write an honest review. 

Mission Impossible: taking a shower when you have a toddler

Before I was a parent if I wanted to take a shower it went something like this:

Wake up. Drink Tea. Faff about. Go into bathroom. Complain about the cold floor. Turn on shower. Shower. Get out of shower. Get dressed. Go about my day.

Then our son was born and I didn't want to leave him out of my sight so I'd only shower if someone else was watching him the whole time. This meant taking a shower in the evenings when Hubbie was home or when family came to visit.

Now our boy is 3 years old and taking a shower goes something like it did this morning:

Me: I'm going to go upstairs and have a shower now. Are you ok ?
The boy: Yes Mummy. I'm watching Peppa Pig.
Me: Ok I'll just put my tea cup in the sink.
The Boy: Mummy, can I have another muffin please ?
Me: I don't have any more muffins sweetie. How about some toast ?
The Boy: I want another muffin.
Me: I'll see what I've got.
adequate replacement found
Me: Right. I'm going up to have my shower now.
The Boy: Mummy, I want to watch the Baby Gruffalo please.
Me: Ok I'll put it on then I'm going for my shower.
The Boy: Thank you Mummy.
I make it halfway up the stairs
The Boy: Mummy, I need the toilet.
Me: Ok, you know how to go to the toilet.
The Boy: Yes Mummy.
A few minutes later
The Boy: Mummy can you clean my bottom please ?
Me: Yes sweetie. 
niceties done and hands washed
The Boy: Thank you Mummy. Can I watch the penguin please ?
Mummy: You want to watch Lost and Found ?
The Boy: Yes Mummy - the Penguin is lost and the boy found him so it's Lost and Found.
Me: Yes son, that's right. I'm going to have my shower.
I make it to the top of the stairs this time
My Boy: Mummy, I want to watch the rain again.
Me: You want to watch the storm again ? Ok.
rewind film to the start of the storm - repeat this stage three times
 Me: I'm going up to have my shower now, Ok ?
The Boy: I want to change my clothes Mummy.
Me: Can I just have my wash first then we'll both get dressed.
The Boy: I want to get dressed now Mummy.
Me: ok come with me and we can get you dressed. 
he skips up the stairs and chooses and rejects two jumpers, three t shirts and any socks - finally settles on a jumper and starts to go downstairs
Me: Ok where will you be while I shower ?
The Boy: In the back room Mummy.
Me: Playing ?
The Boy: Yes Mummy
Me: If someone is at the front door don't open the door please - call me.
The Boy: Yes Mummy.
He's going downstairs now
Me: What do you do if the door bell rings ?
The Boy: Answer it.
Me: No sweetie, you call Mummy. What do you do ?
The Boy: wait for Mummy ?
Me: Yes baby, you can call me.
Carries on downstairs
A few minutes pass
A knock on the bathroom door
Me: Yes ?
The Boy: Mummy, I want to take my jumper off.
Me: can you wait until I've finished going to the toilet please ?
Door opens slowly
The Boy: Can you help me take off my jumper please Mummy ?
Me: Ok. can I just finish going to the toilet please ?
Door closes slowly
Jumper removed, he goes back downstairs
Finally, I'm in the shower
Door opens
The Boy: Mummy, I need a hat.
Me: Can you wait until I come downstairs please ?
The Boy: I'm ready Mummy.
Me: I can see that. You've got your outdoor shoes on. Where are you going ?
The Boy: To the park.
Me: Can you wait for me please ?
The Boy: Yes Mummy.
Stands waiting in the bathroom
Walks away and closes the door 
I get out of the shower and start drying off 
He walks back in shoeless and sockless and wearing a different jumper
The Boy: Mummy, I can't find Jiggles.
Me: He was on the sofa. Have a look for him there.
He goes downstairs
The Boy: (calling from downstairs) I found him Mummy !
Me: Great news.
The Boy: Mummy, I hurt my head.
Me: How did that happen sweetie ?
The Boy: On the table when I went to get Jiggles.
He's upstairs now, I'm in my bedroom 
The Boy: I want to go to the park.
Me: Look out of the window sweetie - it's raining.
The Boy: Oh.
pause
The Boy: Are you ready Mummy ?
Me: Yes sweetie.

Countdown to a toddler meltdown

5 hours to meltdown:

The boy cheerfully calls out "good morning Daddy. Good morning Mummy" and gets into our bed to watch Tikkabilla while Hubbie gets ready to go to work. 

It's raining outside. 

The cat wanders in miaowing about how horrid the weather is today.

4 hours to meltdown:

He has brushed his teeth and his clothes are changed. One piece of toast and marmite eaten another piece of toast with jam to go.
Dora is teaching us about Thanksgiving and he's paying close attention.
I go upstairs to have a shower while he's occupied. 

3 hours to meltdown:

"Do you need the toilet before we go out ?" 

"No Mummy."

"Are you sure ?"

" I DON"T WANT TO GO MUMMY !!"

"Ok, but when we've gone out it'll be too late."

One toilet trip later we're on our way out.

2 hours to meltdown:

We pick up a new cot mattress which makes the boy happy as it's folded behind my seat in the car and, "It looks like a tunnel Mummy."

1 hour to meltdown:

As we're near Biggin Hill I take him to look at planes only it's raining so they aren't in the air, but on the ground today. The training instructor offers to take the boy outside to see them, so kitted out in high-vis jackets we wander round and my boy is in his element looking at 2 seater planes. The owner of the flying school shows the boy a vintage Rolls Royce propeller and all the instructors wave us off saying, "See you in a few years for your first flying lesson." 

45 mins to meltdown:

I have to drop off some leaflets at Kiddicare so we pop in and he has a play and we go to his favourite toilets. He wants to play some more so we agree he can play for five more minutes and then we have to go. 

5 mins to meltdown:

Time is up and when I call him to leave he runs off pushing a lovely pink buggy. I call him back. 

He leaps head first into a play house with his feet in the air and his trousers at half mast. I pull him out by the feet as another parent watches in horror. 

I carry him out of the shop as he screams at me that he doesn't want to leave.

Meltdown:

In the car he yells at full throttle. 

I turn the volume on the car radio up to 35 to drown out the sound of his screams and the noise of my swearing. 

He's hungry, tired and very upset. 

I'm all of the above too and I have to drive us both with the emotions in the car turned up to 11 !!

30 mins post meltdown:

He has a mini-screech in the temple because he's hungry and can't get the food inside quickly enough. 

Finally he calms down and eventually smiles and says.

"the food is reaching my tummy Mummy." 

I still haven't eaten yet. 

1 hour post meltdown:

He's in his cot on the new mattress asleep.

For some reason I can't fathom his trousers are on inside out and his pants have been discarded. 

I pop a blanket on him and go downstairs to drink a cup of tea and get something to eat. 

Oh don't you just love rainy days ? 

Nope, me neither.

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) 

Flash, bang, wallop what a picture…

We've been talking about booking a holiday for a while now. Well, since before it turned hot and sunny here and didn't feel like living in Narnia that is. We have so many destinations in mind with friends in France, Greece, Cyprus, Turkey and California and family in India, Australia and New York.  The main sticking point was that we don't have a passport for the boy and I am so incredibly worried about travelling with a toddler who refuses to listen or sit still for any length of time. My passport is still in my maiden name as I had it renewed the year before we were married and I was loathe to pay for a new one just to use my married name.

So both me and the boy need passports. Today we popped in to see my lovely friend Lucy - who works for a photographer's studio - to get our passport photos done. If that seems a bit extravagant let me explain why we decided to call in the professionals. I have taken many, many photos of my boy since he was born. He was always pretty happy to oblige with a cheesy grin and a look straight to camera or iphone or ipad or camcorder, etc.  Then something changed.

If I ask him to look at me for a photo now he does this:

So the photos we have of him are wholly unsuitable to be used for a passport.

Like this one where he has his hair over his eyes and his fingers in his mouth. All no-nos for a passport photo apparently:

Can you spot why this one would not be suitable ? Yep it's the hat and sunglasses and the fact that he has his mouth open:

So to get him to sit for his photo I had mine done first - and yes it does look like a mug shot - and I did have to have some photos taken with Jiggles bear on my head in order for him to agree to have his done. Only then he kept:

• turning round on the stool
• climbing off the stool 
• trying to grab the door handle next to him

Finally we got a photo that may just pass - and yes it does look like a mug shot. Then he spotted an open door to an office (big mistake !) so he went off to:

• line up all the phone handsets
• count the handsets
• sit at the computer to 'work' 
• open and close the tape measure 
• count the fans in the room 

When I tried to get him to come home he told me to go and "leave me to do some work Mummy."

Then when I finally got him home I popped in to check why he was taking so long on the loo. He decided to impersonate an Andrex puppy and had unravelled the entire loo roll onto the floor.

I'm exhausted just from getting the photos done - not sure I can cope with taking him on holiday just yet !

Anger management course week 3: From Breakdown to Breakthrough

Something happened for the first time in our relationship the other day. I said to Hubbie this weekend words he's never heard before. 

"I don't know what we're going to eat tonight. I haven't bought anything or thought about it." This from a woman who has the meal plan on the fridge and a shopping list planned meticulously around what we're eating on every day of the week. 

Now if you're a randomer who flies by the seat of your pants on important issues like meal planning you won't get the significance of this. You see being organised is my raison d'etre. If I can't plan a meal, how on earth can I manage anything more complicated like dealing with a toddler's moods ?

On any given week I plan a radio show, the week's meals, my son's outfits, my lunches at work, the complex range of classes I go to in the evenings and ensure we don't run out of milk or bread. It's because of all these things that I run the daily risk of going to work on the train wearing 2 different shoes (best case scenario) or trousers that don't fit me and fall down as I run for the train (worst case scenario and yes this did actually happen to me). 

I can only surmise that something is going wrong and it's now that I've done 3 weeks of anger management for parents that I have any idea what it might be:

1. I've returned to work and it is a stressful job

2. My boy is properly going through the terrible twos and it's very, very hard work

3. I'm trying to do too much (clean the house, go to work, plan and cook meals, exercise to lose weight) and there is only one of me

4. I'm just so bloody tired all the time

I feel broken into bits - tired in body and mind. The kind of tired you are when you're a new parent and you can barely function. I can't think straight and my normal levels of organisation and planning have all but gone. I am not someone who asks for help and I do not tell anyone when I am falling apart. I keep going. I keep trying to do everything. It's a mechanism I have developed over the years to stave off depression as you can't have time to feel depressed if you're busy can you ? 

So I knew it had gone too far when this weekend after two days of being away from my boys I didn't actually want to spend time with them on the one day we had left together. Now I take my family time with Hubbie and my boy very seriously. When I'm not with them I ache from missing them so much - going to work is a great distraction as I can't think about not being with them if I'm busy. Feeling so upset that I don't want to be with them when they are right there is not a good sign. 

We all have bad days. Being told that the boy has broken something or hit someone at nursery is pretty bad. Not caring about it is worse. I've been doing the anger management so that I can use coping mechanisms to deal with his tantrums and to stop me having a meltdown of my own. I love him, but I have to be clear about what is not ok to do and not lose my mind at every small transgression. Being upset because he's run out into the road is understandable, but yelling the house down because he's dropped a biscuit not so much. 

So consider this post my public declaration of a cry for help. Since I started writing it I feel loads better just for saying it out loud. There is a lot more to say, but I'm going to bed early tonight to get some rest.

Only one more week of the course to go...

The Sporting Life

It's a rite of passage for a boy to watch football with his father. We know this because it's the basis of Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch and Russell Brand's autobiography refers to his love of West Ham coming from the time he spent with his father Ronald going to watch matches at Upton Park. My son started going to football with Hubbie when he was a few weeks old. In fact I had to go with them the first time as I was still breastfeeding and had to be there to provide a half time snack for the boy.

I owe a great deal to sport as when my boy was first born Hubbie used to stay up late to watch the San Francisco Giants play and he would take the baby downstairs with him when he woke up at night for a feed. It meant I could do a sleep feed and go back to bed while they boys watched their team eventually go on to win the World Series. Hubbie is convinced that our boy broke the Giants' 30 year losing streak although I draw the line at keeping him awake to repeat the feat again this year.

They don't just watch sport together, they also go to a football activity for toddlers on a Saturday morning and this week I took the little man to an Easter camp where he played football, tennis and basketball. I've mentioned before that he has bundles of energy to burn off and it's lucky that Hubbie loves to do these activities with him as I have zero interest in any sport at all.

Since the early days we have fine tuned the Saturday morning routine and have narrowed it down to the trinity of essentials to keep our boy happy for the afternoon: Snack bag, snowsuit / suncream (delete as seasonally appropriate) and spare clothing. This way he has a snack at half time and is prepared for any weather conditions which considering when the football season falls is pretty important.

Aside from the bonding between father and son this regular activity has given my boy an impressive repertoire of football chants which thankfully are still repeatable in front of his grandparents. He has a friend who he plays with during the match and has been known to snaffle a biscuit from the board room during half time. In later years I expect he'll sample the delights of the snack bar and come home holding his belly and groaning. Today he took a new friend to football, a dog that he has named Woof Woof, and impressed his pal Freya who has been going to matches since she was a week old.

It was a conversation with Freya's mum that first made me realise how beneficial this whole Saturday football could be for me. I asked what she did while her husband and daughter went out and she said, "I have a bath, read the paper, go shopping. Anything I like really." The lightbulb lit up over my head and I realised that the faff of getting the boys organised was more than worth it for the sake of having an afternoon all to myself.

My usual Saturday afternoon is spent catching up with friends or having some pampering without having to rush home to feed anyone. Today I was massively productive and managed to go for a run, clean the bathroom and fridge, have a pedicure and baked some cookies. I also indulged in some kitchen porn and added a dishwasher, washing machine, cooker and fridge to my John Lewis online wish list. It's a far off dream, but when there are no distractions from the boys miaowing for biscuits, whining for milky way stars or asking me what's for dinner I am free to meander online and plan my ideal kitchen.

The season was due to finish in about a month, but the weather has been so bad that there are a few postponed games to be played. I have to make the most of my beloved and precious Saturdays until then or hope that something else takes the place of football once the season does finally end.

I have my fingers crossed for baseball and good weather :o)

They don't do Hallmark cards for two and a half do they ?

My boy turned 2 and a half this week. It wasn't greeted with much fanfare, but he did enjoy a Peppa Pig cake at my parents' house on Good Friday and insisted on having candles to blow out. It has become a tradition when we visit that they get him a cake as he loves birthdays so much. We end up having to google whose birthday it is so that we have someone to celebrate for, but it is quite funny and I will enjoy telling him about it when he's a stroppy teenager.

Talking of which this new age and stage has heralded a surprising range of emotions. The tantrums we've already experienced, but now he can go from a standing start to a full blown tornado of anger or upset. He is also speaking fluently and using a lot more words - well I understand him anyway - so it makes for animated conversations when he isn't blowing up because I won't let him drive the car. Today two things happened that made me realise how much my boy is growing up.

Firstly, his small chewy flannel toy (Ellie, the elephant) was lost in the supermarket. I searched all the aisles and at one point had most of the staff looking for her too, but to no avail. A mother pushing a trolley round frantically asking, "where's Ellie ?" often causes concern as people have in the past asked me if she is my daughter. I felt sick in my stomach at the thought that we had lost the toy he'd had since he was born and that he slept with as it smelled comforting. Even though she was filthy and smelly she was also clearly loved by someone very much, so I hoped that she'd get handed in. A while back I bought some spare Ellies as a contingency for this event, so he has once met a replacement when the original was in the wash. Today as I got more and more distressed I told him that Ellie was lost and I was very sorry, he looked at me and said, simply, "new Ellie at home."

Later after lunch I let him have a mini roll as a treat. He hasn't had them before so I wasn't sure if he'd like it, but he seemed to as it was gone pretty sharpish. As I went to take him up for his medicine and nap he asked if he could have some chocolate. I reminded him he'd just had a chocolate covered cake. He went quiet. I said, " you just had one - remember ?" and he looked away from me and said, "No." I laughed and he gave me a very serious look and said, "No" again.

So today I have learned that my boy is mature enough to deal with loss (more than his mother) and that he will lie for chocolate.

I could not be more proud :o)

This too shall pass (I hope)

As it's that time on a Sunday evening when the looming spectre of Monday morning is only held off by the hope of a good night's sleep I have been pondering. I left school over twenty years ago and I left my job over a year ago so why would Monday hold any dread for me ?

Other than the logistics of getting the boy to nursery and ensuring I'm home to receive a delivery at almost the same time it's hardly the most trying of starts to the week. I also do my radio show on a Monday so apart from a little bit of a panic about my guest finding the studio I tend to look forward to it. By the time I pick up the boy from nursery and then Hubbie from the station we've all got stories to share about our day.

So why is it that by the time Hubbie is home - having commuted for a few hours and suffered a full working day - I hide in the kitchen with a cuppa and Radio 4 and let him deal with the boy ? After all I don't have colleagues to drive me crazy, or the travel delays to wind me up or even a toddler at home on certain days ?

Well my theory is that it is precisely because I don't have colleagues or a commute or delays that I have lost all sense of perspective. My day is punctuated with breaks for hot drinks and planning my needs around my son's. I no longer have a role at work or a salary to spend or even adult company to discuss office politics with. All those necessary components to keep my sanity and identity intact.

Later in the week I mostly escape to the kitchen at 6.30pm because it's been one of those days - again. The ones where I have bruises from being kicked changing nappies, a headache from being head butted in the chin, a ringing in my ears from being slapped across the side of the face and backache from wrestling to get the boy to sit in his car seat. To top it all off I usually also have a sore throat from saying "Stop !" and "No !" so often.

Try as I might not to I do mutter swear words under my breath or in the next room, but his supersonic hearing will catch me out eventually and he will cause a sharp intake of breath at a bus stop or in front of his grandparents one day and I will have to hide from them too.

So the phrase 'this too shall pass' is my mantra to get me through my son's terrible twos and my muddled middle age.

In the meantime any tips would be much appreciated.