Holiday

Alfie and I came back from our travels yesterday and it was quite an enlightening trip for me, not least because it is the first time that the family have been separated for any length of time since Alfie was born and it was interesting to see how we all coped. This isn’t a diary entry, I really just wanted to share some highlights from our time away.


The time we spent with Sal and her family was just lovely, not least because Alfie struck up a new love affair with Dan, their eldest. Dan was equally taken with Alfie and watching the two of them interact was just so beautiful it gave me heart ache.

On the subject of Dan, in years to come I hope I can explain to him that he really helped me this weekend.

For various logistical reasons I ended up watching Dan and Alfie on Saturday afternoon and it was the first time I have ever been ‘in charge’ of him. We played, had lunch and then played some more, all of which involved negotiation, and motivation.

I had always been determined that I was going to achieve both with my kids by positive reinforcement – so praising the good so they choose to display behaviour that gets a good reaction – but had always doubted that it could really work. I don’t doubt it anymore. Dan responded so beautifully to being given the opportunity to make the right choices it really made me feel like we both walked away from the day more empowered. The little dude is 3, so he’s not going to think about things like being empowered, but hopefully one day I can thank him for helping me be confident in my parenting choices.

Next we stopped off at mum’s, where I got a lesson in babyproofing. Alfie is mainly crawling at light speed and cruising with care. Within 5 minutes of hitting the carpet he had zoomed into the kitchen where he had discovered a new fun pastime. He has entitled it “How to pull the white twiddly things off the end of radiators leaving a lovely sharp spiky bit to chew”.

Dragging him away from his new toy, I chose one of the rooms to lay up in for the night and set up the travel cot. Several hours later I heard the noise I dread on a night alone, when Alfie decides he wants out of the cot and into bed with me. Luckily part of my choice of rooms had been around my ability to safely contain a co sleeping Alfie without a daddy shaped motion sensor to fence him in on the other side. Confident that there was a wall in place to stop any mishaps I cuddled up with him and after listening to his little baby snores for a few minutes, drifted off ...

... only to be woken up again by

*THUMP*

(Waaa-ROOOOOOOOOO)

My arm grabbed thin air where once there was a baby, my head was back in the primeval world of “where’s the dingo?!?” and for the life of me, I could NOT work out what had happened. I could hear him but I couldn’t find him.

Then I remembered the radiator and slowly my brain reached out to me like some Alec Guinness hologram.

“Check the gap Tash”

What gap you ask? The tiny wafer thin gap where the radiator doesn’t run the full length of the bed, that’s what gap. The gap so tiny I had looked at it and dismissed it as impossible for anything larger than a gecko to fit down. The very same gap where my child was now lodged and still bellowing in an amusingly muffled manner.

And I do mean bellowing, because that boy was PISSED.

It was all I could do to compose myself enough to reach down into the void and haul him out, I was laughing that hard. He was fine, no ill effects and not even much of a grumble after he was freed from the evil gap monster’s jaws.

Our last visit of the weekend was to see my little sister which involved, amongst other things, a trip to Wellington Park.

We had a ball, mushroom picking in the woods, swinging in the adventure playground and then petting small furries.

I would like to thank Otis the Guinea Pig for his patience and apologise for the attentions of my son.

Supernanny Sal

Firstly I have an apology: I have just got a new phone and I have gone a little crazy for a new widget I have downloaded that lets me do sexy things to photos. As a consequence, this post may end up looking like I'm stuck on shop demo.

Anyway, Keith recently started complaining that he was tired and needed a break, so I decided Alfie and I would go roaming this weekend.

Today we are staying with my best friend and since she is so close to my office, she was kind enough to say she would watch Alfie today for me as well. Now just to give you some context about how brave this lady is, she is currently at home with a 3 year old, a 1 year old (with allergies), my boy (with allergies), a fruit loop dog, and she is trying to get her laptop collected for repair.

It goes without saying I will be taking a large bottle of wine home with me this evening - and a straw, so she doesn't have to tip her head to drink.

Anyway, I have been kept fully up to date with my boy, who so far has chomped his way through a massive breakfast and is clearly in love with his new playmates beause then I got this ...

How Tired?

Shortly followed by

One down, one to go

Now if he'll just be that good all weekend ....

News, and chickens.

The first thing I have to announce is news of great ... actually I'm not sure what it's news of, right now it is news of great dread.

Hope you're all sitting down here ....

ALFIE HAS CUT HIS FIRST TOOTH!!!!

Seriously!! There is actual real life honest to goodness toofypeg sticking out of gum.

Why is that NOT news of great joy? Well recall the tale of Chicken Licken if you will, he of the falling sky. Now just imagine for one second what would have happened if instead of acorns, big feck off chunks of cumuli nimbus had hit the turf, closely followed by the sun, a full moon and a few million stars. Imagine his hysteria.

Welcome to my world. After 7 long months of worrying that his teeth were coming, THEY HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED. Now my son REALLY has something to be upset about!!

He has managed a few moments of happiness today though. One was first thing this morning, when his dad went on a daily courgette harvest (seriously, three plants is WAY too much for a family of less than 20) and found one that had previously slipped through the net.

Submarine net perhaps?

That beauty has made a vat of soup today in case you were interested in what one does with something like that.

The second was visiting his favourite member of the family - Delia. The two of them have this really weird connection thing going on. He adores her, and she in turn comes over to the fence and stands warbling back at him and NOT PECKING HIM.

I capitalise that because if there were angel chickens, and one came floating into their pen offering to show her the way to eternal happiness, that mean troll of a bird would waddle straight up to her and peck her in the face. She tried to steal my engagement ring the other day by attempting to peck the inconvenience finger, mine, into confetti.

Not my boy though, the two of them are clearly of the same world. Which worries me somewhat because I don't want the day to come when I have to hold my son back with a pointy stick.

Quote on Motherhood

I'm reading a book at the moment called Human Traces and I came across a page that describes this motherhood malarkey so perfectly I wanted to share. I might even make it part of my sidebar ...

"It was such a common human experience, thought Sonia - by definition, perhaps, the commonest of all; yet to each of them, she could see, it was a private rapture so intoxicating that they were forced sometimes to play at being blase, to complain about the work, the sleepless nights, the loss of time alone, when she could see all they really felt was incredulity that something so mechanically natural was in truth so sublime.

They were changed for ever, these women - changed by everyday transcendence that had lived through. She saw then stealing glances at their children on the grass or in the hall, rationing their gaze, hoping not to wear away the miracle by too much looking; but she did not mind that her own exultation was not unique; it reassured her to think that anyone might feel as she did."

I know I have also been a bit lazy in my legendary midwife collection too - so today I'm going to go old school and talk about Sarah Stone.

Sarah lived and worked in the West Country from about 1700 to 1740. She was the daughter of a midwife and the mother of a midwife and is remarkable for two things:

Firstly, in an age when most midwives learned on the job, she was an educated woman. She schooled herself in anatomy, attended autopsies, and wrote a book called A Complete Practice of Midwifery where she gave detailed instructions on how to deal with all manner of difficult birth scenarios.

Sarah was more exceptional though for her strong opposition to the rise of the "man-midwife". These men became fashionable after the Queen of France was attended by one and soon became the must have accessory for the pregnant dandy around town. Can women be dandies? Sorry Quaintrelle - there you go, word for the day.

Sarah, man-midwives, focus!

These new breed of birth attendants were 'medically trained' (in the loosest sense of the word, we're talking advanced butchery rather than the sort of skills a student doc might learn today!) and there was a growing trend of them attending the latter stages of birth when they would produce a baby - like a rabbit from a hat - and "command all the praise" that was due the midwives.

Now, I just have to say this. Sarah, how right you were! They were called men-midwives in your day, now we calls 'em consultants. Same deal.

These men were "well versed" in the use of things like the new finagled forceps, while people like Sarah had instead built up a lifetime of experience in working with the women to realign their babies during labour. She argued long and hard that what was needed was better education to support the practical knowledge of existing midwives, not the creation of a new strain of attendant.

Unfortunately her words of warning were not heeded and her prediction that man-midwives would increasingly be the first port of call was, in time, proven correct.

What the .... ?

Am I the only one who has moments in life that involve a confused look and lots of Stilted. Half. Sentences?

Usually these situations happen soon after a moment of surprise - like backing your parents' car into a pole you SWEAR wasn't there 10 minutes earlier (sorry mum) - and swiftly progress to muttering the sort of half sentences that start with questions, like "How the ... ?" and then trail off while your brain does a bit of cerebral lip wobbling.

I had such a moment over the weekend when I came into the lounge to witness the after effects of my son playing, a development which happened in a matter of a few hours. I went out for a run with a wriggly little piglet of a toddler and came home to a human wrecking ball.

So it is now official, he is a proper little boy. Every day is soundtracked by a lot of crash, some bang, mostly there's wallop and without fail, every last thing is done at 100 miles an hour. Also he appears to be the first human to actually harness the Power Of Stubborn into some kind of contraband tractor beam.

We put him to bed in pyjamas for the first time last night and it actually brought a lump to my throat to see how grown up he looked.

I love these photos taken yesterday on Keith's phone. Please don't adjust your sets, they are supposed to look like that.

As a friend put it perfectly this morning "his little pudgy legs are poised for ENGAGE ZOOOOM"

I think it's time to break out the cupboard locks ...

Days Like These

Keith is at home with Alfie today, and isn't feeling fantastic. He has still managed to send me some awesome mails from Alfie, which have just made being away from them both 100x harder:

from: Keith Batsford
to: Natasha Batsford
date: 13 August 2010 07:09


subject: Poor me mummy
 
Daddy makes me wear trousers that don't fit me so good!
 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

from: Keith Batsford

to: Natasha Batsford
date: 13 August 2010 13:12



subject: Picnic

Hey mummy



It may be raining outside but we still have fun. Daddy and me are having a picnic on my rug!


Miss you mummy


Xxxxx

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seriously, how damn cute is that? I'm especially loving the wary look in the last photo. That is a kid who does NOT want to be parted from his food!

Carry on Camping

Not content with a week of camping in a two man tent, we thought it might be fun to run up to the God of Camping and give him a wedgie by chancing our luck a second time.

This time we were in a slightly less glamorous location though, this time we were in Yeovil. Not that Yeovil isn’t in a lovely part of the country with many attractive features, but it doesn’t quite have the romance, nor the racing history of Le Mans (well dug that woman!)

We were actually there for a purpose: We were at the Haynes Museum for the Retro Rides Gathering 2010 meaning not only were we camping, but we were also trying to organise and run a car show for some 1,500 people at the same time. I can safely say Keith and I are united in saying we will NEVER repeat that experiment!!

So here are my top tips learned from these combined camping experiences:

Tip 1:
Layers are king! When packing for a week of camping expect hellfire and blizzard because if you don’t, that is just what you will get. Especially important is to pack more than one jumper for your son because after a few days of chilly mornings, the jumper will be so covered with breakfast it will prove impossible to put on without dislocating shoulders. This applies equally to the adults in the group if wearing jumpers with attractive teething toys attached (most people call these toggles).

Tip 2:
It doesn’t matter how hard you pump an airbed, there is no way of getting on and off it without waking your son. It doesn’t matter how deeply he is snoring beforehand, or how slow and delicate you are, he will wake, and he will not thank you for the interrupted sleep. In fact he will carry on not thanking you for best part of an hour and will wake up most of your neighbours into the bargain. They too will not thank you for the interrupted sleep.

Tip 3:
Do NOT experiment with food whilst camping in a tiny 2 man tent. If extremely kind friends make allergy friendly biscuits, do not allow son to chomp his fill before asking about ingredients. Not unless you actually find the smell of rancid baby farts attractive in the morning. In a tent that small, even a baby can clear turn the air green enough to make you gag!

Tip 4:
Do allow same kind friends to babysit son on show day because lord knows there is nothing worse than a trying to “work the gate” with 16lb of sweating infant strapped to your back. The plus side for all concerned is that the excitement of new friends who are wise to the ways of babies means he will sleep long and soundly throughout the day while you ruin yourself.

The cumulated knowledge from these two trips means that Keith is now more determined than ever that the camper should get finished before next year. It also means I am more determined than ever that we never try anything as foolish again. The days of the 2 man tent are over, never to be seen again.

Should I ever have my brain removed and decide to try camping again, it will be with a much bigger tent, with bedrooms, and separate beds, and cooking facilities. Some call it a hotel.

Miseducation and Misinformation

Blimey, there is nothing like the topic of breastfeeding Vs formula to stir up a royal shitstorm is there?

You may have seen an article in the Telegraph which accused the NCT of throwing its toys out of the pram about a recent exam question.

Personally I think we need to see what the fuss is about, so here is the question. I would point you to the link on the exam board website, but it has now been removed, so here it is copied from the NCT site:

From question 2 of AQA Unit Chemistry C3: 2 (b) Read the information in the box below and then answer the question:

Calcium carbonate occurs naturally as marble and limestone. They are important building materials and are often used for gravestones. Calcium carbonate is also an essential mineral for good health and is present in many baby foods in small amounts. My Baby Food is recommended as being the closest to a mother’s own breast milk. It is given free to mothers in the developing world – without it their babies might die of malnutrition.Responsible Mothers Are Us (RMAU) is a United Kingdom pressure group. They want to ban chemicals in baby foods. The group was founded by Mrs I. M. Right who has made a career in ‘goodness’ and is paid from donations given to RMAU by members of the public. When interviewed, she said: “Calcium carbonate is a chemical and so it is a pollutant. My Baby Food must be banned to prevent the mass medication of babies. I don’t feed my baby the stuff of gravestones.”

Many people do not agree with Mrs Right’s ideas. Suggest why.

Now, the Telegraph writer seems to think that the NCT are one step away from donning foil hats by suggesting that this question might have been worded with the help of a formula manufacturer. Because obviously, this is something that has never happened before ...
 
is it?
 
The question to me isn't whether this was written by a formula company, it is that this question, and another similar one in the SATS appeared at all.
 
If the point of this is to discuss whether Calcium Carbonate is an acceptable food additive then why not just ask that, why give it the baby formula 'wrapper' and add such partisan content? Content, which I would just like to add, would actually be ILLEGAL if it weren't dressed up as a ficticious brand.
 
I mentioned before the hypocrisy that women face when becoming mothers in the UK, and to me, this speaks to exactly that point. It also makes me profoundly sad that the UK still hasn't got its head around the fact that by pushing formula in this way, to young people on the cusp of forming their views on parenting, means that you are effectively removing breastfeeding as an option for them. Normalise formula, you marginalise breast feeding and no amount of National Breastfeeding Weeks is going to make up for the adverse impression that statements like this can create.

Mila's Daydreams

Oooh this is what I love about subscribing to so many blogs, they come at you with some really cool stuff that you would never have found yourself.

This was linked from Letters to the Editor and at first sight, yeah it looks a little ‘done’, a bit Anne Geddes perhaps, but there is such a sweet story behind it, and there’s something about these photos that I really love. Perhaps it’s because I can almost see Mila’s mum Adele creeping round her putting these scenes together.

Also, knowing how hard it is to get a baby to go down and stay down now, fair play to you missus, either you are one lucky lady, or you’ve invested heavily in baby sedatives.

(Note, clearly I don’t actually think she is drugging her child to get these pictures, so don’t go getting all face sucky on me)

Anyway, this blog is awesome, it’s called Mila’s Daydreams and it is supposed to show Mila in her dreamscapes. I really love it.

Yum

So, last Friday I took Alferoo to see a lovely lady to talk about food. It was a pretty cool experience. First we got to play on the bead tables, which Alfie LOVES, and then we got him weighed and lo, the child was on the same curve as always (or in other words, he's not losing out on weight gain because we're BLW) and then we got to have a chat with Sarah, who listened, asked questions, had a discussion with me (midwives of Lister, are you taking note??!!) and concluded that yeah, we're doing pretty damn well.

I nearly skipped away from that appointment.

I didn't think the day could get much better, but when I got home, I had a parcel waiting for me with the coconut oil for Alfie's cupcakes. That was all the excuse I needed to cook up a batch of possibly the most anticipated cupcakes of recent times.

Not since Marie Antoinette has anyone put as much faith in cake as I had in this new recipe. I was actually nervous cooking them, and not just because I'd blown a small fortune on the ingredients. Every mother wants their child to experience the pleasures that life has to give. I know cakes are a small pleasure to most, but to a little boy who can't have them, it can be a big pleasure.

Luckily for all of us (by that I mean me) the cakes turned out delicious. I mean seriously yummy. And in this particular matter, my son decided he agrees with me, cake is yum.

Now we share one as pudding after dinner each night.