What this mummy does....

I started today by writing a list of housework that needed doing, the fact that one of the points I listed was "incinerate bedroom and hope that clears most of the mess" should tell you how long the list was and how much it all needed doing.

I've done nothing. Nothing at all on my list. Here's what I've done instead:

• Nursery run x 2. The first time with a crying Moobles "I don't like nursery *waaaaiiiillll*" and VB who was wearing a coat over his pyjamas, the second run was much more pleasant thankfully.
• Sung Old McDonald countless times. VB is just getting the hang of talking and now requests "E I O" with whatever object he'd like you to sing about. We started with animals, today I was singing about the shoes, bees and hair Old McDonald has.
• Read many, many books
• Watched Shrek (or Far Far 'Way as Velcro Boy calls it)
• Made cards with Moobles
• Made finger puppets with Moobles
• Done ceramic painting with Moobles
• Cleared up the aftermath of all 3 activities
• Refereed the on-going brother/sister wrestling match. Actually, today hasn't been a bad day, we've only had one time out on the stairs and Moobles has only had her hair pulled a couple of times.
• Cooked dinner - no mean feat when you have small children demanding refills of their hot chocolate, wrestling in the other room or hanging from your trouser leg. We had Spag Bol tonight and Moobles actually voluntarily ate some, which is marvellous as we usually have to resort to bribery or threats of immediate bedtime in order to get anything that isn't cheese, crackers or a strawberry yoghurt into her.
• Did a food shop. Moobles was in the buggy as she claimed to have no energy in her legs for walking so VB was happily wrapped up on my back in a gorgeous wrap called Hoernum Fish by Didymos which is my current favourite. Getting there was fine, doing the shop was fine (except I lost count of how much I'd spent halfway round so had to go to the self service counter for fear of having to admit to the checkout lady that I needed to put stuff back - I didn't as it happened, hurrah!) Getting back home was, er, fun. Moobles decided she wanted to get out of the buggy, having rediscovered the energy she'd been lacking earlier, I said no as I had neither spare hands to hold hers nor the inclination to run after her with the buggy. This resulted in a monumental banshee shrieking style tantrum. Marvellous. She wailed and screamed all the way home and I perfected my mummy poker face and stared at a point in the distance, trying not to laugh.
• Provided a seemingly never ending supply of snacks; hot chocolate and crackers for Moobles and Wince Loddet (translates: drink chocolate aka hot chocolate) and Peed It (Peel it aka clementines) for VB.
• Had lots of kisses and cuddles and conversations about princesses and parties and nonsense and all sorts of very important things.
• Bathtime. On my own. Yikes! It wasn't too bad we even managed to wash hair although the bathroom is now decorated in crayon and covered in 1/2 inch water.
• Bedtime. On my own. This took forever, but was actually quite nice. I sat in between their two beds and listened to Moobles singing "Away in a Manger" and rolled my eyes at VB who spent well over an hour rolling, crawling, standing, sitting, doing headstands, jabbering away, laughing, demanding more songs, cuddling me and then poking me in the eyes because I'd dared to shut them for a second. He finally fell asleep thankfully, hopefully the next time he wakes the husband will be here to deal with him.

So, I feel less of a failure now. I did no housework, but I did lots of nice stuff with the kids and we all managed to get up, dressed, fed and back to bed again with minimum aggravation so it must have been a good day.

Anyway, Gadget Man is due home at 10pm (but he's going to the pub, so it'll be closer to 11pm) so I have a little while to some of the stuff on my list, I might at the very least hoover up the grated cheese in the front room and try and rescue the kitchen a bit.

Weird

						weird
						adjective
						odd, bizarre
						awe-inspiring, awful, creepy*, curious, dreadful, eccentric, eerie*, far-out, fearful, flaky*, freaky, funky*, ghastly, ghostly, grotesque, haunting, horrific, inscrutable, kinky*, kooky, magical, mysterious, occult, oddball, ominous, outlandish, peculiar, preternatural, queer, secret, singular, spooky*, strange, supernal, supernatural, uncanny, uncouth, unearthly, unnatural According to Thesaurus.com, this is the entry for "weird" and all the associated words. Now, call me picky, but I don't think I'm creepy, dreadful or freaky. On a good day I might be funky and I'd quite like to be magical but, in general I don't think the above list of words has much at all to do with me. So why, why, why do people insist on using the word "weird", when they actually mean something else. I mean, if you mean unnatural, disgusting or wrong then just say that, or if you just mean different or unusual, then those are much kinder words than weird! This blog has been kicked off by a comment I read online about Attachment Parenting. We've become attached parents quite by accident I think, our kids didn't much like to be put down when they were small (and in the case of Velcro Boy, not so small!) and slept better in our bed. We prefer to follow their lead, encouraging and gently steering them rather than telling them how or what they should be doing. I don't like it when my kids cry, and I do like cuddling and loving them, so AP has been something we've fallen into. It's what works for our family. I'm aware though, that especially as they get older our parenting style is noticeably different to lots of other people's. That's fine by me, my parenting of my kids isn't a political statement, I'm not trying to make others feel bad or criticize alternative choices. But, somehow my choices seem to offend people, particularly the very visible choices, mainly slinging and extended breastfeeding, and I'm not sure why people take my choices so personally, as if I'm silently criticizing their own decisions by being so unashamed about how we do things. We get nice comments too, lots of people tell me how comfy VB looks in the sling and a lovely old lady stopped me when we were visiting Glasgow to tell me how brilliant she thought it was that I was carrying an exhausted VB so close to my breast (we'd just done a marathon car journey and VB was fast asleep on my front in a wrap) and how comfy and loved he looked. Anyway, please don't call me weird. It'll only wind me up and force me to live up to your expectations. I might start knitting lentils or weaving sanitary towels out of yoghurt just for fun :) And just to congratulate you for getting this far, here's a couple of random, unusual photos, of my frankly bizarre kids (I'm allowed to say it, I'm their mum!) VB demonstrating his feelings about facing out in a sling Moobles + Face-paints + 5 mama-free minutes = abstract art!

It's been a while!

I seem to have accidentally taken the summer off from blogging - oops!

We've had a busy few months with lots of changes for all of us. I thought I'd give you a quick summary...

Gadget Man - my wonderful husband started a fabulous new job, which he loves and is perfect for him. He's a drummer and has a real passion for music and sharing it with others. His new job allows him to do what he loves all the time and with kids who really benefit from it and love it as much as he does. Unfortunately this has led to my house being full of instruments. Not just drums (40ish Djembes and a couple of drum kits) but cellos, glockenspiels, steel pans and the entire brass section of an orchestra. *Sigh* never mind, the kids love it, I'll be glad to reclaim my house though!

Moobles - Has started pre-school! She loves it, really, really loves it! Which has made it so much easier to leave her there, although it is very strange having her "missing" for part of every day. We now have to decide where she'll go next year, so the Great School Hunt begins, wish us luck!


Moobles ready to go to nursery on her first day

Velcro Boy - Is now 19 months old and finally walking! He's a lot less Velcro recently, and prefers dashing off at top speed in whatever direction is likely to lead to most trouble. He's also talking and has come out with some hilarious things, mostly quotes from tv programmes, or his now legendary Cookie Monster impression.


The gorgeous, newly mobile VB :)

So, it's been a funny few months and we're just settling back down into a routine and enjoying autumn and now looking forward to Christmas! I can't wait!

Still breastfeeding, still none of your business.

I've breastfed both of my children, and am very passionate about the fabulous benefits breastfeeding provides for both mum and baby. The World Health Organisation guidelines recommend breastfeeding until 2, and the worldwide average age a child weans from the breast is 4.

Moobles breastfed until she was 19 months and I was 6 months pregnant with Velcro Boy. Lots of people were shocked that I was breastfeeding while pregnant, convinced that I was causing harm to my unborn baby or that it was just plain wrong, and weren't afraid to tell me so! Eventually the time came when Moobles and I were both ready to stop and gradually she asked less and less and I stopped offering, until one day she didn't feed at all.

Velcro Boy is 16 months old and still breast-feeding lots. He feeds when he's hungry, when he's tired, when he's upset, when we've been apart for a little while and just when he fancies it generally. We feed at home, and while we're out and about, although lately VB has taken to impersonating the Cirque Du Soleil whilst feeding, so discretion is a bit tricky at the moment. Breastfeeding is so much more than nutrition, it's a fabulous bonding tool and a way of calming and reassuring him when he needs it. I'm aiming to breastfeed him for as long as it works for both him and me, hopefully beyond 2 years.

I'm not too worried about being discreet, I think it's a good thing to feed in public, to show people that it's normal and that it's perfectly possible to breastfeed and carry on with life. When VB was small, I was feeding him in a shop, sitting on the pouffes they provide for trying on shoes when I finished a mum with a tiny baby asked me she was allowed to feed in public, as she'd just seen me do it. She also told me that she hadn't been leaving the house for fear that she'd need to feed her baby in public and was considering switching to formula so she could get out more. I quickly put her straight, and sent her to the nearest Starbucks, with instructions to buy coffee and cake and find a comfy chair.

I'm not sure why people think it's okay to question my parenting decisions, or comment on them at all really. But next time someone asks if VB is *still* being breastfed, I'm gonna say "Yup, we're still breastfeeding, and it's still none of your business!"

Tropical fishies

Out of all the slings I own, I think my wraps are my favourites. They're basically long pieces of woven fabric which can be worn in a wide variety of ways to carry a child.

They're very comfy, and obviously more importantly totally beautiful! I have a few, in different lengths and colours for different carries and different moods.

One of my favourites is by Didymos and it's called Deep Sea Fish, it's a dark, denimy blue with fish woven into it. It's lovely to wrap with, and very comfy but a little bit boring. So, last night, I cracked out the fabric paints.

You can see the results in the photo, the fish on the left are in their original state, and the ones on the right have been painted. I'm really pleased with the results, I've just got to finish it off and then iron it to make it permanent!

Help! I have a Threenager!

Today has been one of *those* days. I think most parents will know what I mean, the kind of day that no-one warns you about pre-children, when it feels like someone has set your childs volume control to LOUD AND WHINGEY.

Moobles is three, she's always been, erm, strong-willed but since turning three it seems she's decided to up her game. This morning mostly consisted of her following me around the house whilst crying, or throwing a strop, or jumping on Velcro Boy. This meant that VB was even more velcro than usual thanks to his stroppy sister, which wound Moobles up even more and resulted in even more wailing.

*SIGH*

Thankfully, Super Gran made an unexpected visit which perked everybody up a bit and gave me an excuse to escape the wailing for a few minutes as Super Gran needed tea and all the milk was off (I don't drink the yucky stuff, so was oblivious to it's cheesiness when I used it to make the kids breakfast, which might explain why they didn't eat it - whoops!)

They're both in bed now, Moobles is asleep, VB is rolling round in his cot poking his legs through the bars and talking to his blanket. The house is a pit, nevermind, tomorrow is another day!

(ps) the photo is not from today, but it reminds me that generally, she's lovely!

Thank goodness for Dr Sears!

Moobles wasn't a particularly difficult baby, she just puked a lot and fed a lot. We mostly got round the puking by keeping her vertical as much as possible and always having at least three muslins within arm's reach. The feeding wasn't a problem, I happily spent hours pinned to the sofa munching junk food and watching films, afterall, I had nothing else to do, the housework could wait (it's still waiting!).

Aside from the puking, which didn't bother her greatly she was a fairly happy baby, very independant and sociable.

Velcro Boy was a bit different. The clue is in the name really, he was a placid little fellow for the first six weeks of his life, I even remember gloating smugly at him falling asleep in his crib and going 2-3 hours between feeds. Then something happened and he began to cry. All. The. Time. Seriously, unless he was feeding or sleeping he was screaming. There wasn't anything obvious wrong, nothing we tried worked except holding him and singing. So we held him and sang, for about 6 weeks, until gradually he stopped crying quite so much and even smiled occasionally!

VB is still very much a Velcro baby at 16 months, he's happiest when he's being cuddled, he's not particularly adventurous and he's still prone to frequent tears. So we still carry him a lot, he still breastfeeds whenever he wants and we soothe him when he's cranky.

It's been tough, I had Moobles to consider and sometimes VB had to wait while I made lunch or put her to bed, or counted to 10! But generally we've managed ok, mainly thanks to co-sleeping, breast-feeding and a large collection of slings!

So, imagine my delight when I flicked through the Sears "Attachment Parenting" book to discover that VB isn't miserable, spoilt or manipulative (as suggested by some well-meaning baby gurus) he's simply high-needs. And guess what? These babies don't need strict routines, or to be left to cry, they need comfort and cuddles.

So, yay! It wasn't me who broke my boy at six weeks, he's just high needs and he needs extra attention from us all.

So, to summarize; Dr Sears rocks. Babies cry - it's normal and sometimes you won't know why. You can't spoil a baby with love, carry them, cuddle them, sleep with them, feed them, do these things as often as possible. You won't make any kind of rod for your back, you'll just create a happy child who knows they're loved and is secure in that love.