Category: Parenting

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Sleep is for the Weak

Image: m_bartosch / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

After reading  Jane’s blog yesterday at Northern Mummy with Southern Children about the 7pm bedtime routing beginning to change, I had to laugh as I saw it at about 10pm, while I was trying very hard to ignore the 2 reprobate children who were still wandering the house looking for snacks and drinks.

I can’t remember how or where it started to deteriorate.  The boys have never been good sleepers and one is up with the sun and goes to bed with the sun.  In summer, he sleeps for about 4 hours a night.

It was a very fast progression, this bedtime lark.

Within a few short months, peace and tranquility at night-time  had gone.  To clarify, in my humble estimation, peace and tranquility is only broken if more than one child spends upwards of an hour or more screaming their heads off at bed time.

The deterioration of the bedtime routine clashed with the onset of cot side climbing and big boy beds.  Overnight, the children constrained by cot sides found the freedom that they had longed for.  No longer were we able to keep them from moving.

In middlers case, the next step was to move a child gate to the door of his bedroom to give him that little extra room to manoeuvre, without being let loose on the world at a moments notice and without anyone watching his back.   I thought I was so clever with that little trick  and congratulated myself on my cleverness with smug smiles to all.

Smugness laughed in my face as within a week or two, middler had managed to learn to climb over the gate.   Red raw eyes over the next few weeks of staying awake and outside his door to stop him heading off in the middle of the night made me look as if I had a huge vino habit.

Smugness reappeared when I found a dog gate in Argos that looked the same as the child gate, only much taller, and the red-eyed eyed witch disappeared as sleep came back to the mum of the house.

All too soon, the returned smugness evaporated when he realised he could throw a wobbly, lob a huge kick in the direction of the gate and it would fly off the door in a testament to his strength and ability to grab the fleeting tastes of freedom that he had managed to acquire before.

Elder and littlest get tablets to help them sleep.  It must be something that runs in their birth family.  This permanently awake condition is totally alien to me.    I was the poster child for the long lie campaign as I only ever wanted to get up out of my cosy little pit when I had to.

To this day, I still need three alarm clocks set to get me up, yet the slightest whimper from a child usually wakes me (oxymoron I know).  I do say usually as I sometimes sleep through all madness with oblivion.   There are only so many waking hours that a sane person can survive on (who said I was sane).

My boys are fast approaching the teenage years, and with so little sleep in their lives so far, I can’t help but think that they are going to grow up into insomniac nightwalkers, destined to walk the streets at night.  My paranoia knows no bounds !!

I have long given up the fight for bedtime as it is impossible to make someone sleep if they don’t ever feel tired.    The tablets are wonderful when they work and if I catch the odd glimpse of a yawn, I take that as my excuse to race to kitchen, fill up a pint glass full of milk to help tip the almost sleeper over the edge with a full belly.

They say Margaret Thatcher only ever got 5 – 6 hours sleep a night and since she was dubbed the “iron lady,”  I guess that really means that sleep is for the weak, and the rest of us are chicken lily livered sleep loving bedaholics.

 

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Why is Baby Food so popular?

Baby food seems to be an emotive subject.  I stated my opinion on it on twitter, and I was rapidly unfollowed by 4 mum bloggers.  Who knew that baby food mums took it so seriously.    Nobody said anything in defence of baby food which was surprising, but there were plenty of us who think that jars (and the ready-made tubs ) of baby food for older children are just not needed.  I can see the snacks being useful, but the need for the meals confuse me.


Image: Sharron Goodyear / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

My youngest came to me at 9 months old.  I was told that he had been fed on cow’s milk, and he didn’t like pot noodles, so I decided to take it from there.  I didn’t know any better, and with my mothers yada yada yada in my ear, I really never thought there was any other way of feeding a child, other than making something for them to eat.   From day 1 in my home, he began eating the kiddie sized portion of what we grown ups and his older brothers had for meals.

Saying all that, before I get struck down with some bug from a curse from the mothers rights brigade, it is every mums’ choice of what to feed their child.  The fact that their childrens’ taste buds might suffer eating bland gunk for so long in their lives is their choice.

What does annoy me is having to stand in a supermarket trailing my three hyperactive kids, who have little skills for waiting in line, to have to listen to a mummy righter blagging on about the baby food tub she had just bought in the shop – and wanted it heating up.  On and on she went about how was she going to feed her baby now.  The man behind the counter remained as calm as could be, although it was obvious he was dying to tell her exactly where to go.

She started off trying to persuade him to use the kitchens microwave to heat it up, but he explained that he couldn’t use industrial microwaves, then she tried to get him to let her go into the kitchen and heat it up herself.   He explained that it was against company policy to allow that.   I don’t know how often he said it, but eventually she paid for her food and walked away from the counter.

I had some sympathy for her, and stayed behind her in the queue without saying a word, as I could see that she was obviously getting stressed out about how to feed her baby.  When she asked what she was going to do now to feed her baby, I almost felt like joining in and championing her cause.

When I had my childrens’ food paid for and got seated, I found myself facing straight towards where she sat with her friend and her “baby”.  I felt a little jar of shock when I realised that this “baby” was well over a year old and possibly two or more.    The kids menu had several choices of things that would have suited that child perfectly well.  In the end, the mum mashed up some of her food, and spoon fed the little one.

My shock was at the fact that not only was she wanting baby food for such a big toddler, but that the toddler was getting it all mashed up, and not allowed to use a spoon or anything to eat it for herself.   Far from being unable to feed herself through some disability or special need, I spied the “baby’s” dexterity with toys and the ability to be able to potentially eat for herself was evident.

It’s the mum that seems to want to keep her baby as a baby, and not let her grow up.  Either that, or total laziness in feeding her child, so that the only thing she will eat is blah, blah, blah.   I have tasted the jars and tubs of baby food, and they are completely disgusting.  I suspect most children would turn away from them once they had “normal” not processed food to eat regularly.

I am not adverse to sticking on the odd packet of chicken nuggets, or pizza when I don’t have time to cook from scratch, but surely feeding toddlers that big on baby food is just silly.

If you want to unfollow me for that feel free, but I’d rather you debated the reasons for using it for older children with me.

I’d love to know the rationale and why baby food is so popular.  Feel free to comment below.

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The Lure of the BMX Bike – Peer Pressure at Work

 My eldest wanted a new bike at christmas, but it couldn’t just be any bike.  It had to be a BMX.   The reason for that was that he wanted the “cool” badge at school by having one.    He also wanted to be able to start doing stunts, and needed a bike that you can turn the handlebars right round in a 360 degree circle without any cables getting in the way.

I think it looks ridiculous to see those big lads on those teensy bikes, but that’s what he wanted, and thanks to a sale in a toy shop, that’s what he got.  He is happy as larry, and enjoys spending time with his BMX.

What it also raises is the red flag of the peer pressure and how it affects our children when they are only really very young.  Right from babies, on TV there are adverts aimed at them.  Cereals, sweets, toys from October onwards, and there seems little we can do to shield them from it. 

Even if we self consciously ban TV channels that carry the adverts, and keep them away from films and programmes that we don’t approve of – they still ARE going to find out all about them in the most gory sense of the words, and without the benefit of censoring.

School playgrounds and parks are hotbeds of gossip, slander, and peer pressure.  If you are at a non-uniform school and happen to wear the wrong trainers, the consequences can wound you past adulthood.

When my children were very young, I decided that I would not bow to peer pressure, and that my children would wear what I bought them and be done with it. 

Several years on, I am glad that there are some discount sports shops and ways to get hold of sports gear and shoes at reasonable prices, or I would struggle to meet the demands that our children place on themselves, AND have placed upon them by others.

Yes, there is the argument that there are children worse off than ours, and that ours should be grateful for what they have.   I have had a lot to do with disadvantaged children, and believe me, that argument won’t hold water with your children, or stand up when they are being made a fool of by the children who “have”.

Our children live in the socio economic circles of their peers (in most cases).   They can no more understand the difficulties surrounding children who have little, than we can understand how our great great grandmothers cleaned and cooked and provided for families of 14 children or more in two rooms.  

What we can do, is try to keep it within reason, and not try to keep up with the children who will always have everything.  Most of those children who get everything will never appreciate the value of their money, or the ability to manage a budget (you know the ones, with every new product going, and a new toy nearly every day).

I have accepted that my children can not match many of those children, but I provide for some of the things that they “need” to be accepted when it fits my budget.   The right trainers are do-able at the discount sports shops, as are some football kits.  I buy the football boots in the sales and stock up on the next sizes.   I don’t go overboard, and if my kids had their way, they would have every game console and game that is on the market (and believe me some of their friends do have that). 

There are times that we have to accept the peer pressure, and work within it to give our children the self-esteem that they need to live among their peers, but also be responsible enough not to let them be the pampered brats that grow up respecting nobody. 

It’s a fine line between showing off and being practical.  Sadly, it is the children who always end up at the end of it, suffering at either end of the scale.  The middle ground to me, has to be the right place to be.

Where do you sit in the debate?

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Foetal Alcohol in Newborn Babies – Do you know the possibilities?

I have had much to do with this issue recently.  I am aware of the effects, the guidance and the common sense.  Having never been pregnant, I have no idea how I would have reacted to drinking alcohol if I was pregnant, but what I do know is, that it is worrying when someone who is 7 months pregnant tells you to lay off when you query how much they are drinking, and tells you that if they drink 10 alcopops a day, that it is nobody else’s business, because it is “their” body.  You do begin to wonder where the rights and wrongs of the legal status of the new baby to come really are.

Do you know how much alcohol is too much when you are pregnant?

Do you know how you would live with a child who has either foetal alcohol effect, or foetal alcohol syndrome? 

Would you be able to control the situation, or would you wash your hands and walk away?

WHAT IS FOETAL ALCOHOL?

It is not just any one disorder, but it has a spectrum of degree, similar to autism, in the depth of severity.  The syndrome itself will usually show facial abnormalities, failure to catch up with their peers, and mental problems with learning difficulties and impulsiveness.

The effect, is a milder form of the disease, however just as difficult to live with, and may or may not have facial deformities.     It is said to be the most common reason for mental and behavioural problems with children, however, that can never be proven. 

Babies with foetal alcohol can be delayed, cry excessively, have weak grasp with trouble sucking and feeding.  Brain damage can even lead to epilepsy.

Approximately 70% of FAS children have very severe hyperactivity and often poor behaviour, head banging, rolling, or rocking.  It is possible that they could also be diagnosed with ADHD, or Attachment Disorder, or actually a few other things – when we are really talking about foetal alcohol effect.  There are so many disorders that “could” be attributed to similar symptoms.

IS YOUR BABY AT RISK?

Usually, the more alcohol that is drunk, the higher the risk of damage.   What that does not take into account is the genetic, or predisposition to the possibility. 

Women tend to keep prolonged alcohol use secret, and it is difficult to get help if nobody knows that someone drinks.  It is hard to say if a few drinks, or a few binges will affect any one child growing in the womb. 

My point is, why take the risk of learning difficulties, behavioural issues, deformities and the life struggle that it brings, when it is easy to take the possibility out of the equation by simply not drinking?

I have spent much time with foetal alcohol children.  Did you know that any alcohol that is drunk, passes easily to the foetus, and every growing baby is at risk as their liver is not able to absorb the toxins.

I have not put any guidelines down, as they change frequently.  The only thing that people can be sure of, is that you don’t know how much alcohol will affect any one baby.   All parents of special needs children worry that it is something that they did that caused the disabilities, so why people take the risk of being able to flog themselves for life with the possibility they caused a disability is beyond me. 

There is nothing anyone can do about a session of hard drinking  before they know they are pregnant, but surely, once people know they are pregnant, it is silly to keep on going and taking the risk.   

How many people live with the “it won’t happen to us” motto?

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School Trips and Gadgets – Opinions Please??

I am all for school trips and I think they are good for children, but there are times when I wonder if schools really have lost the plot.   They seem to think that pupils’ parents have a never ending pot of money to spend out.

I don’t mind the triple whammy of:

  1. cinema outings & shows
  2. museum and event trips
  3. sun cream
  4. uniform
  5. school shoes
  6. gym shoes
  7. gym kit
  8. book fairs (well I do, but that’s another story, more aimed at the people who organise and man the stalls)
  9. toy fairs (I might talk about that this week as well since it is relevant tomorrow)
  10. xmas present shelves
  11. xmas cards (sending a pack home your child has drawn and pretty much holding a gun to your head to buy them) 
  12. dinner lady white tickets you have to pay for, even if you gave your child a packed lunch that day.

 I can forgive almost all of those as ideas that might be appropriate, if they were dealt with slight modifications to how some of them are done at the moment.

My oldest was away with the school for 1 night in April.  It cost £85 and they had to be given £15 spending money.  

A couple of months later, they want another £300 for him to go for a 5 night residential sports outing.   On top of that, there will be spending money and lots of other clothes etc.

I can take my whole family away in the caravan for a fortnight for that price.  I have said no, that he is not going on the trip.    This now makes my son the odd one out, as it seems that out of a year of 70 odd primary children, he is the only one not going.  To top that off, he has also been given £5.00 to take home to start a car wash / baking initiative to help grow that fiver to take a little of the cost down for those who are going.  He has been included in it, even though he is not going.  He is asking the teacher if he is going to be allowed to keep anything above the £5 he earns since he is not going.

I am immensely proud of my boy for how he has taken not going away with his class.  My reasons are not purely monetary, as on the last trip away for the night, they put with two boys who are much more streetwise.   They proceeded to describe 18 horror films in-depth and I guess you can get the picture, along with the not doing anything your parents say as it’s “your life”.    He came home after one night away and it took us all about a month to recover and reset the boundaries.   I am not ready to go through that again. 

Then comes the news that the kids are all going to be issued IPad 2’s next year, which all parents will have to pay for on a monthly subscription.  Now understand, that all the kids have been told they are going to get these things, and nobody has asked the parents if they are willing to pay for it.   I have two children at that school, so that will be about £25 – 30 month they want me to pay (and have told my kids they will get).   My boys are coming home more and more excited at when it is all going to happen, and all I know is that I am going to be expected to find about £360 a year for something we hadn’t planned for.  

I have decided that the ipad2 are more important long-term, given the way the school plans using them than one week of activities.  I am budgeting for affording that, and our trips away which we need as a family with high needs children.

Logically I do know it is the right decision for us as a family, but why, oh why, do I feel so guilty for not letting him go on that trip?

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What age is appropriate for pierced ears ?

Many of you won’t have come across this issue yet.    It is one that has many parents from all walks of life debating on the rights and wrongs, or the reasons for and against.

I am against and I also have pierced ears. 

So why, oh why did I agree to boyo here getting an ear pierced when he was 10 years old ?

Lets look at it this way.  Boyo spends a lot of his life missing out on things that he should be able to take part in as he has a brother with a disability.    He spends his life defending his brother on one hand, while also feeling resentful and upset at what he misses out on.

He really, really wanted his ear pierced, and because I say no to so many things that he asks to do, I had to think hard.  I skirted around the subject for a couple of weeks, saying neither yes, or no.  I exaggerated how painful it was to get done and regaled him of tales of festering, pain and misery.   One day I looked at his face, animated as it was while he was asking for this one thing from me.  I realised that it  is not an issue at all.   This was one thing that I could say yes to, and make him happy.

Some people may not like it, and I certainly don’t.   It did however give him a massive boost to his confidence and his face has beamed with pride wearing his ear-ring since the day it was done.   For his confidence, it was worth every second of disapproving looks that come our way.  If he needs to, he can take it out for jobs and interviews as he grows older, and he may decide on his own to remove it. 

He knows it will be the one ear-ring and I am not going to agree to multiple piercings.  Having the ear done has certainly done away with any talk of future piercings in other bodily places.

Was it the right thing to do?  Yes it was.  It’s a non-issue. 

A twitter pal said to me that she couldn’t argue with her daughters request for pierced ears with just the reason that mum didn”t like it.  I agree with that.  There are soo many other battles that need to be won in the parenting department, that are actually important. 

Then it comes down to the appropriate age. 

  • I am glad the issue didn’t come up pre 10.
  • I am glad my other two don’t want an ear pierced.
  • I am glad I don’t face the girl child debate for both ears done pre-school.    

I will never forget my mums words as I grew up pleading for my ears to be pierced. 
“If you were meant to have holes in your body, then you’d have been born with them.”

Well lets see.  If we were meant to wear make up.  If we were meant to dye our hair.  If we were meant to wear high heels.  If we were meant to be free of underarm hair.  If we were meant to have a tan.   Where does it start and where does it stop?

What do you think?  Where do you sit on the piercing debate?

I certainly don’t know what the “right” age to have a piercing is.  I don’t think there is one.

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Eating Out – Childrens’ Portions

I am guessing that you are all sitting waiting for some huge revelation into the type of food (or packet gunk) that they might be serving up, but no, that is not what has me champing at the bit when we eat out.

Picture this

Small fingers, trying to manipulate knives and forks that are not fully compatible with the small hands that are trying to hold them the same way that mum and dad do. 

The plate is small, and the food is tightly packed onto the plate.  With no room for manoeuvre, the food spins out of control, whirrs off the plate and invariably ends up on someones’ clothes.

How difficult is it to give a young child a plate that is big enough for them to use their cutlery.

I’d love to tell the PR and media types who deal with restaurant chains, hotel kitchen outlets and supermarket food courts that they are not fooling anyone into thinking there is more on the plate, simply because it is miniature sized.

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Children and Animals can Die in Vans and Cars

It’s got to the time of year again when I find myself struggling with a small proportion of my fellow humans as I go out and about. It stresses me to the point of irrationality, and really gets my back up.

When it starts to get warmer outside and out pops Mr Sunlight, the animals that have spent the winter hibernating at their pathetically selfish and lazy owners request begin to appear again.

That aside, some of these fair weather dog walkers seem to think it’s ok to take their beloved to the supermarket, or the library, or the local MacDonalds, or the pub, or their work, and leave them there. They think that it’s ok to leave a window open an inch or two and that their faithful canine friends will be ok. On some occasions, they may be.

Is it worth the risk?

It only takes 20 minutes for a child or a dog to die a horrendous death in a hot car. And it doesn’t have to be blistering hot outside for the inside of a car to literally boil them to death from the inside out. Is that the kind of death you want for your child or your best friend.

Every year I come across self-centred, egotistical it won’t happen to me types, who think it is ok in hot weather to leave their dogs. Each time I feel compelled to stay and make sure the dog is ok. If you are one of the several I have called the authorities over, then that is just tough. I’d rather you hated me for reporting you, than risk the life of a dog that I could have saved from an awful death.

A woman at one of the local shops last week left her baby in a car with the engine running, and her handbag on the front seat and was happily queuing inside the shop for more than ten minutes. She got angry when she was challenged about how dangerous that was for the heat, and for the possibility of theft.

My children have had the SSPCA at school. They have been made aware of the dangers of animals and children in hot cars. Seeing a dog left while their owners totter off upsets them. It upsets me.

Don’t risk it.

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Overweight Children – Whose Fault ??

I switched on the TV tonight, and the programme that I stopped at was the Half Ton Teen on Living Channel.  The mum states her child is her reason for living, but she is the one going to the supermaket and buying all the hugely fatty foods that her son is eating.    The doctor thinks that the teen is eating 30,000 calories a day to keep him like that.

The biggest problems he has are his mother and father.  The programme calls his mother the “enabler”.  I find it distressing to watch his parents asking him if he was going to “do it” this time (lose the weight and have surgery).    She is the one buying all the junk he is eating, and I felt like flinging the skin of the tangerine I was peeling through the TV at her.

I see this on a much smaller scale at home as well.  There are children locally who are struggling with their weight.  I feel so sorry for them on a day to day basis, as most children (and adults) want to be part of the group, and accepted, and weight can be a factor that excludes children from the “in” groups.  

Most overweight children are at the mercy of their parents food and lifestyle choices, and I do feel sorry for them.   I have been lucky in that I have three children, of who two are very thin, and one is average for his age.  All my children are able to eat a lot of food without becoming obese, and for that I am thankful. 

I also have my children do a lot of exercise as I don’t want them to spend their lives as I have, constantly fighting to either get to, or keep my weight at a normal level.    With the computer society, and parents keeping children inside when they can’t be there to watch them, it is difficult to find the right balance.  

I do also think tendancy to put weight on has a bit to do with our genes, and our state of mind at any one time, and that it is difficult to put the blame decisively on any one person or place unless we know the circumstances.  I am not exactly stick thin myself, but when I see an overweight parent of an obese child filling up a grocery trolley with chocolate and stodge, I feel so sad for the children.

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Nothing Happens at School

The events of the school day always amuse me.  In an average school day, nothing much seems to happen.  I know this for certain, because my children tell me so, each and every day that they come home from school.   You know how it goes.

Mum “Did anything nice happen at school today.”
Child “Nothing much.”

Mum ” Did you have gym, or language.
Child “I told you mum, nothing happened.”

Mum “So you went to school, you didn’t do any work, you didn’t see any friends, you didn’t eat any lunch, and you haven’t got any homework.”
Child “Haven’t I just told you that.”

This is one of the universal truths that I seem to come across with boys, and not just my boys.  I have heard of a few boys who do actually go home and tell their parents how the day goes, but in general, most of us parents of boys seem to get the same answer.  Girls on the other hand, seem to me, to tell their mothers what happens day to day and piece by piece. 

That got me to thinking back to whether I was like that as a child.   I made myself a coffee and sat down to relax.

“Did I always tell my mother nothing happened at school.” I asked myself.  “No” I convince myself, as my mother and I were ‘friends’.   And there we are.  I am as smug as a bug in a rug that I was right about the boy/girl divide in school nothingness.

Grandma was here at the end of the school day today, and as I brought the boys through the door, she puts on a great big smile.

“What happened at school today boys, come and tell me all about it.”  I hear this and think that there will be no reply to it.   I wait for a few seconds and I am not disappointed. 

“Nothing, nothing much, that’s boring,”  come the replies.

 This is repeated a few times and grandma throws her hands up in the air and exclaims.  ” They’re just like you were at that age, they never tell anyone anything.”  And with that, off she flounces to the kitchen to put the kettle on in exasperation.

My first thought was “wow, no wonder no-one tells her anything,” then I remember how I act when my boys walk in the door, and I realise that I do exactly the same when I get exactly the same answer. 

Like mother like daughter.  Who?  Me?  No.

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Umbrella’s at Dawn

I have been moved to blog about the growing band of mummies who stand at the school gates with brollies big enough to lose three people in.  I really, honestly and truly do not like brollies of any shape, size or colour (unless they are attached to a buggy and shading a little one’s eyes).  I really do not like them. 

People barge into you, spokes hit you on different parts of your head and body and you try to squeeze past on paths and pavements, and they rarely lift the spokes up to avoid hitting you.  Then there are the head turners, who suddenly hit you with the lower end of the brolly which is behind their head and leaning on their shoulders.

This morning, set the scene, I am trying to lead a very wet dog and three neighbours children though a rainy public path.    That is on top of the two children who belong to me.  We go single file to walk through the mummy chat zone, but I have a problem.  Mummies are lined up right along the path.  There is nowhere to walk, they are blocking the whole path.   There is a lot of noise on the walkway 6 feet up, and the rain is drowning out a lot of noise.  They are also shouting to each other to be heard.

Neighbours child no 3 asks politely if one “lady” will move, no luck.  She asks if another “lady” will move and gets swatted away as if she were a fly on her coat tails.   We can’t see any faces, as they are brandishing large umbrellas which are spoke to spoke as they chat selfishly.    The hackles are rising on the back of my neck as I call all the children back to behind me. 

Then I spot a car drawing up behind us on the road and move swiftly to the passenger door.  Inside is a well known other brolly hater.  I ask her if she has a lovely big brolly in her car, and to my amazement she has.   I leave her car, also with two of her children in tow.

Armed with the large green umbrella, I make my way back to the mummy brolly tent and shove my green one into the spokes of the other mummies brollies.  The onslaught brings a parting of the path, which allows me to get my forming brood through in one piece, and without this mummy getting someone else’s brolly spokes in her eyes.  I politely mutter sorry, sorry, sorry in passing while trying to keep a straight face.  Strangely none of them seems to mind this at all.  

All of which brings me to the absolute loating I have for umbrellas at school gates, or anywhere near a school, and why, for the safety of my eyes, I am going shopping this afternoon for my very own brolly tent.

if you can’t beat em, join em.