Category Archives: Parenting

August 5, 2010 · 10:00 am

Top tips for holidaying with kids

The only way to endure camping

YOU’VE waited all year for this moment and now it’s here, you’re not quite enjoying it yet.

 

Yes, holiday season is here and anyone with children is frantically writing lists, buying up first aid kits and worrying about passports.

That’s before the little darlings have even got to being sick in the car/train/ferry or needing a wee just after you’ve left the service station.

Holidaying with kids is hard work. But with a few simple tips your break might just end up being the relaxing family break you need.

  1. Packing: Make a list of everything you use on a daily basis. Then halve it. Then halve it again. Think of things that it would be uneconomical to buy or hire once you get there, like car seats, travelcots, listeners and buggies. Luggage charges on flights now make it very difficult for families with young children. A pack of nappies is heavy. A few in your hand luggage isn’t. Other countries do sell nappies. If you have older children, share items out like spare socks, water bottles, books and their toys in a backpack they are responsible for.
  2. Food and drink: If travelling by car, don’t overload them on sweets as soon as you’re five minutes from home or you’ll be smelling sick for the rest of the journey. Give treats in moderation, when bribery keeps the peace. Don’t forget drinks, and don’t believe them if they tell you they don’t need to go at scheduled stops. Packing a few sandwiches and fruit for a journey will save you a fortune too.
  3. Embrace technology: We played I-Spy and Count-the-Green-Cars. They play Fifa 2010 and Super Mario on their games consoles, listen to MP3 players and watch in-car DVDs. Make sure everything is fully charged before you leave. And leave them to it.
  4. Make a first aid box. Just to keep your mind at rest. A plastic tub with a lid containing Calpol sachets, headache pills, antiseptic cream, antihistamine, a bandage, sling, plasters and antibac wipes goes on holiday with me.
  5. Swimming: If you know there’s a pool or beach, take trunks, cossies, goggles and armbands, and do not ever assume someone else will watch your children.
  6. Weather: This is the tricky one. I always over pack for changeable conditions. Thinner waterproofs and layers is lighter than carting your winter coat with you. Unless you are going skiing.
  7. Shoes: Again, try and keep it light. Wellies, Croc-style slip ons or flip flops, something everyone can walk in and if you can squeeze them in, something nice for you for evenings.
  8. Beware of airport restrictions: You may think you can persuade them otherwise, but security staff at airports will make you dump the eight cartons of baby milk and juice you’ve just bought, only for you to have to buy it again at the other end. They will even take baby bottles from your screaming tot and pour it away. Take powder and mix bottles with fresh water once through the barriers. Hot water should be available on flights.
  9. Essentials: Whatever age your children, carry baby wipes, something to draw/write on, a small ball, Top Trumps, a mobile phone and your sense of humour. Holidays are meant to be relaxing, so don’t try to stick rigidly to a schedule or panic because the eggs aren’t organic. Break the usual rules a little.
  10. The Stupid Family Game: If you don’t have one, you should. Ours is “Guess Person Who?” and is based on the traditional game where someone thinks of a person and the others have to ask questions to guess who it is. Ours gets very silly, and usually takes at least an hour before everyone gets bored or falls out.

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , , , ,

July 29, 2010 · 9:41 am

I am a smug mother

 

I HAVE to hold my hands up and be an utterly smug mother: Dougie got the ‘Churchill’ leadership prize on his last day at primary school. Shared with his good friend and all-round top lad Tyrell Bernard.

At home, Doug is fairly typical second-born: fiercely determined to make sure everything is ‘fair’ but also quite happy most of the time to let his older brother get into trouble first while he pootles around with his head in the clouds. But at school, this year he’s matured enormously.

I was bursting with pride (and a little moist-eyed) when they called his name out to go up and take hold of the trophy – a ceramic statue of the war-time leader – and terrified he would drop it.

You tend to think the really noticeable changes in your children happen in the early, crawling,walking, talking years. When they get to the ‘tweens’ they might not change much physically – they get taller, fill-out, smell more – but basically have all the practical human characteristics to take them through the rest of their lives.

But in their brains, it’s all going bonkers. Hormones, being the eldest in school, seeing the opposite sex in a new light, it’s scary stuff.

Somehow, Doug has embraced all of these changes and the absence of his older brother with relish. Brothers as close in age as Jed and Dougie have the benefits of a constant companion, but also need to retain their individuality.

I can’t quite believe my cuddly, thumb-sucking little boy is getting all grown-up. (Actually, he does still suck his thumb when he thinks no-one is looking. . .)

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , ,

July 28, 2010 · 9:36 am

A dog, in a hat, on a bike. Singing.

 

WE had a great day on Sunday, just by going to the park. We saw one of the most surreal things I’ve ever encountered.

Yes, we’ve been to Abington Park, in Northampton, hundreds of times. If you get time this holiday, I’d recommend it. And it’s free.

We’ve had picnics before, bought an ice-cream from the Park cafe, listened to a brass band play on a sunny Sunday, visited the birds in the aviary, looked around the museum, played football, wandered around the rose garden and fed the ducks.

But never, in all my years, have I seen the dog on a trike.

The boys were very casual. I asked what they were peering at through the trees. They answered: “A dog on a trike.” Naturally, I thought they were joking.

I blame Bloke. I’m so used to his surreal statements that I am instantly sceptical and dismissive of anything that sounds a little odd. Like, “Oh look, there’s a dog on a bike.”

But they explained further. It was a blue dog, actually RIDING the trike, unsupervised.

“Shush kids, enough now, this is silly and you shouldn’t tell fibs.”

Then I saw it. A blue dog, wearing a bowler hat, riding a trike. Singing “Who let the dogs out.” With no sign of anyone controlling it remotely.

The Chron actually came up with the answer: He was a remote controlled robot dog owned by a local who hires him out. His roaming was controlled by a headset from a distance. Brilliant!

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , , ,

July 28, 2010 · 6:00 am

Aloft, in the loft, sits. . .camping stuff

  WELL, here we go then. We’ve got to entertain our kids for six weeks. It’s the holidays.

Actually, it’s five and a half weeks for some. And the next fortnight must be the quietest on local roads, as just about everyone with children will be off.

So what do we do with them? In the current economic climate, do you do two weeks in Spain? Visit the relatives? Or just stay at home and do over-priced day-trips?

At some point we’re going camping (which I hate) in our decrepit campervan (which I hate slightly less). Not only do I have to do the dreaded clothes packing for six, but there’s all the camping kit too.

Bloke is putting it off, because he knows he’s got to face The Loft.

The loft, in our house, is actually a big cupboard with poor lighting which is stuffed to the brim with. . .well. . .stuff.

Somewhere under the piles of empty boxes, broken computer parts, outgrown baby items, a dismantled kitchen table and the Christmas tree, is an enormous tent/awning, several inflatable mattresses, a camping kitchen, burners, lamps, sleeping bags and a folding table.

We aren’t organised. The stuff will have all the muck and mould from being packed away last year. Our dread of The Loft will mean we won’t have time to check, and it will be just thrown in the back of the van along with too much luggage, too much baby stuff and too many kids.

Then we’ll get there, unpack it all, have a lovely-albeit-wet-when-it-inevitably-rains time, pack it all back up again and head home. Where we’ll end up shoving it all back in the loft.

I think the next few days had better be spent having a loft clear-out, welly-trying session and round-up of waterproofs. Oh, and someone needs to dig through the shed to find the camping toilet/bucket with a lid. There you go kids, who says the school holidays aren’t fun?

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , , ,

July 22, 2010 · 6:00 pm

By heck Grommet(s)!

BILLY has finally got his hospital appointment to have grommets fitted. *Shudders.

It’s been a on-going problem, as previous detailed in these pages. Six-year old Bill can be very shouty. The consultant ear-docs and audiologists finally persuaded me that it’s just gone on too long to keep ‘waiting and seeing’ if he’ll literally grow out of it.

His glue ear, a very common problem in young children, could be fixed now by having tiny tubes called grommets surgically inserted into his lug-holes under general anaesthetic.

Now, I’m not unduly worried about the operation, but the thought of watching my baby go under anaesthetic makes me want to weep. Already. But not in front of him. I am cheerful and matter-of-fact in my smiley explanations to him about his ear-op, and the subsequent antibiotics and cotton wool plugs at bath-time to prevent infection.

My friends who have already been through worse hospital operations with their kids tell me it will be fine, and that I’m being a wuss.

Doesn’t stop me stressing though, to the point where I’m buying weird nose balloon contraptions on the internet to try and fix it without the GA. I’ll keep you posted. . .

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , ,

July 22, 2010 · 9:00 am

She sets off alarm bells

 SOLVED a great mystery this week. For months and months, every time I walked into and out of a shop the security alarms would go off.

Actually, sometimes they’d go off going in and not going out. I felt like a reverse shop-lifter. A shop-dropper, perhaps.

Many security guards have rummaged my bags. Many more have waved me on after seeing the fury and indignation on my face. I was convinced it had something to do with metal pins in my knee after surgery 20 years ago.

Then one very nice lady in a shoe shop, on hearing how often it was happening, offered to let me walk in and and out with various items, to see if the alarms went off, as a process of elimination. We tried the nappy bag, just me, wearing coat, without coat, with purse, buggy and so on, until we found the culprit. My Filofax. A leather Filofax. No security tags or labels anywhere in it visible to the naked eye. A Filofax I was bought for Christmas. Well, at least I hope it was bought. . .

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , ,

July 21, 2010 · 9:46 am

Where’s your Daddeee gone?

GETTING my Bloke back this week, for a fortnight anyway. He’s been working in Edinburgh for the past couple of months and so we’ve only had him home for weekends.

It’s been a bit like being a single mum, without the emotional trauma and reduction in income.

Or a Forces wife, without the anguish and concern for his safety. I do worry, every Monday and Friday, when he’s getting on trains and planes. Not quite the same as worrying about him stepping on an Improvised Explosive Device or shot by friendly fire.

Being on your own with four kids is fun but knackering. It’s also pretty lonely. You miss having someone to talk to, and you can’t really go out on your own. I can never really justify the cost of a babysitter just for me.

The last few months without Bloke have been weird for us all. Our eldest said he was seeing less of his Dad than his friends whose parents were divorced, but without the extra presents. The novelty of living in hotels wore off for Bloke after about a fortnight.

The most annoying thing for me is having to put the bins out. I might cope with all the rest but it’s HIS job. And he does it with ruthless Man efficiency.

I wake up at 2am when I finally remember they need doing, clatter around the house collecting what needs to be put out and shuffle out into the street in my dressing-gown, clutching smelly black bags and cursing under my breath.

At least we’re all back together for the next fortnight. Bin duty reinstated. Someone to yak to about everything and nothing. Order restored.

He’ll be desperate to get back to work.

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , ,

July 15, 2010 · 2:09 pm

Transfer Day

IT was Transfer Day on Monday. To those of you without children, this is when they get a ‘test day’ at their new class, with their new teacher for September.

It’s all very well if you are just dropping them off at a new door, but for those with children changing schools, it’s a little more complicated and for some, worrying.

We’ve got a complicated set-up, having four children who need to be in different places. Doug went to his new secondary school, Northampton School for Boys (and yes, I do still feel guilty). Thankfully they wanted him earlier, so that was an 8.30am drop-off.

Then Billy went to his normal school but a new classroom. Bonnie met Childminder Clare at the school gates, while Jed had a more confusing set-up.

He’s not really got a new classroom to go to, because they haven’t made it yet. He’s not even sure the new Malcolm Arnold Academy will even go ahead now since the Tories have pulled the plug on the funding, despite the high-profile Tory donor who’s supposed to be running it.

So for now, he’s still a Unity (formerly Trinity) pupil.

I guess those new Year Sevens who were due to see their new school might have had an unenlightening day. All these kids – and the teachers – at Unity and Weston Favell (the nearly academies) have had enough uncertainty and disruption over the past two years thanks to Northants county council. It’s stupid, and it needs to get sorted. No politician or council officer responsible for the academy changeover should be allowed to disappear on holiday until it is.

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , , , , ,

July 15, 2010 · 9:05 am

She has Wii arm

I AM suffering from “Wii-arm” (pronounced: Wee-arm). It’s a relatively new condition.

The symptoms are a dull ache in the bicep, inability to fully straighten at the elbow, and a burning desire to try and beat your six-year old on a computer game.

We have too many computer games in our house. I can’t really moan as they were bought by the kids with their own money, but I often wonder if we need both an Xbox and a Wii.

The Xbox is newer and currently gets all the attention. But at the weekend the Wii came off the bench and kept everyone amused when it was just too hot to be active outside.

As the elder two were out doing Saturday clubs, it fell to Mum to be Player 2 while Bonnie reluctantly went for her nap.

Ten tennis matches, boxing, golf, bowling, and far too many baseball games later, I’d been roundly beaten by a six-year old and was actually perspiring. Still stubborn enough to do the Fitness Test though, to find that the machine puts my fitness age at 39.

“Don’t worry Mum,” consoled Bill. “At least it’s not your real age.”

No love. It’s one year below my real age. . .

Leave a comment

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , ,

July 9, 2010 · 10:30 pm

She peed in my shoes

The slippers (after a wash)

THE Terrible Twos are in full swing in our house. Our Baby Bonnie is no longer a baby but a full-on foot-stomping, screaming, temper-tantrum-throwing little madam.

 

I don’t ever wish to gender stereotype but she does seem stroppier than the boys were at the same age. It might have taken slightly longer for her to twig on to the power of an all-out bout of the screaming ab-dabs, but boy, is she making up for lost time.

Bonnie is now two and four months old. She can speak fairly well, is mostly good at making it to the loo in time and knows exactly what she likes (tomatoes, ice-cream, the garden and Peppa Pig) and what she doesn’t like (being told NOT to do something).

We’re now at that wearying stage where she is aware that she’s doing something she shouldn’t.

The tantrum stage is all about independence and testing boundaries. You want her in the car seat, she wants to go in Billy’s booster seat. Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough, Mum.

I can just about manhandle a twisting, kicking child into a car seat, but her wriggling out of holding hands and running off is testing both my patience and fitness.

Bonnie used to come when called. Not now. She will zoom off and when you call her back she will actually pick up speed.

I’ve attempted the tried and trusted Counting Backwards from Five technique (this still works with the boys who can’t resist the competitive element of racing back before “. . .one!”). But she’s not bothered. She wants you to have to run after her and then has a full on tantrum when you prevent her from being run-over.

Extra annoying, of course, is that she reserves this behaviour for me. The childminder will only get a mildly sulky version. Daddy gets adoration.

Despite ignoring her, or picking her up and taking her elsewhere when she does that blood-curdling scream, and resolutely not giving her whatever she wanted in the first place, it does wear you down. And girls don’t seem to forget how annoyed they were with you two hours previously.

The tantrums will pass, but by gum, you have to resist the temptation to join in.

On the other hand, she can be an absolute delight. She insisted on having “lady toes” when she found me re-painting my chipped toe nail varnish (my one attempt at femininity).

She loves shoes, and found my forgotten shiny silver slippers and insisted on wearing them around the house saying: “I a ladeee.”

Until the moment she looked me right in the eye and said: “Mummy, these are your slippers” . . . and then did a wee in them.

2 Comments

Filed under Parenting

Tagged as , , , ,