Sometimes as a parent it's hard to relinquish control over the bodies of our children.  To realise that although they're our child, they're their own person.  It's their body.

They spend the majority of their days in uniform being taught to conform, to be the same.  They are told what to wear and how to wear it even down to their shoes and socks.  They have no freedom of choice or self expression.  It's all decided for them and then dictated to them.

The Emptying Game

Following on from What Babies Really Want To Play With, you'll note there's a reoccurring theme, that of Moomin's passion to empty things, all the things, every things. Bags, purses, packets, shelves, cupboards and her personal favourite, a packet of baby wipes.  Now I could fork out £20 or so and buy a shiny plastic toy designed to put things in and take them out again, or I could just be a cheap skate and make one because, newsflash, she actually couldn't give a toss what it looks like, it's the act she likes.

I had copious amounts of old cloth wipes that we no longer use (thanks to the lovely Cheeky Wipes that have replaced them!) They're just small baby flannels that you can buy in packs of 5 or 6 from the pound shop.  The Dude had recently got some new trainers, so I wrestled the box from him, tapes it together, made a slot in the top (and taped round this too) and stuffed it with the flannels (and a load of used gift cards, don't ask!) Voila.  Best game ever.  She can now empty to her heart's content, granted she doesn't want to put them back yet but that's all part of the game, if you attempt to refill them it's a race against the Moomin as she crawls at hyper speed to empty them as fast as you put them back!

The money saved?  Can be put into the fund for a trip out somewhere, after all, memories are priceless.

What babies really want for their first birthday

Even as I type this I still find it hard to believe that Moomin will be a year old at the end of this month.  A whole year old.  How?!  It's cruel how quickly time slips through our fingers, I can still remember going into labour to birth her.

As she's our fourth baby, she already has a toy shop worth of toys that were once her siblings as well as token additions just for her.  Advertisements, shops and catalogues are near exploding with noisy, shiny things that she absolutely needs, apparently.

She can't talk yet, what with her being 11 months old and nor can she write her own birthday list.

What would she want though if she could tell us?  It's not hard to work out, all it takes is an exercise in observation.

So I present to you, the birthday list of what a one year old really wants to play with:

Why I rarely get Moomin weighed.

From the moment our babies are born their lives are dominated by numbers, how many weeks pregnant was their mum? How long was labour?  How much did they weigh?  How long are they?

Then it's how many feeds to they have?  How often are they feeding?  How long do they sleep? How many wet nappies are they producing?  How many dirty nappies?

It doesn't stop.

Our babies become defined by these numbers.

How many teeth do they have?  How much weight have they lost/gained?  What percentile are they on?  How much are they drinking?    How often?

Crunch.

If you've ever read my brief bio you'll note the phrase 'semi-crunchy' a term I use somewhat tongue in cheek.  There's lots of terms and labels we can attribute to our parenting styles, yet often I think we should let our parenting define the type of parent we are as opposed to the label we're adhering to, afterall, parenting isn't being it's doing.  I think at times we can become a little fixated with keeping up with the mumsies of whichever parenting style we associate with.

So what is 'crunchy' ?  Are there degrees of crunchiness?  Am I crunchy enough?

The internet Mum-doctors.

If you're a Mum you've probably at some had an ill baby or been concerned something may be wrong yet you're uncertain what to do, you don't want to be labelled the neurotic Mum at the Dr's nor do you want to not go and risk your child growing a second head that then explodes.  You crave advice or validation or even just good old virtual hand-holding.  You've learned from the past not to ask good old Dr Google seeing as you start with a mere splinter yet end up with something you can't pronounce that's possibly terminal.  So you turn to people you think will understand, other parents.

World Book Day

World book day.  Three small words that strike fear into every parent of a school age child, or at the very least a muttered 'Arse'.

Don't get me wrong, I love books.  The spawn love books.  I'm incredibly pleased that they're having jaunts to the library etc to celebrate it.  But for the love of Valium, which cretinous sadistic person thought dressing up for it would be a good idea?  For the record, if it was you, I hate you.

Generally children love dressing up.  Dressing up as Ninja Turtles, Spiderman, Elsa or Buzz 'effin Lightyear that is.  As literary characters?  Not so much. In over ten years of parenting I've never once had any of The Spawn ask to dress up as Fantastic Mr Fox or Hairy Mclary.  Never.  Never ever ever.

So it falls upon us mere parents to run about like headless chickens trying to cobble together three, yes three, costumes that will be worn for one day.  The Pinterest mums all have hard-ons over it as they give their glue-guns a quick wank yet us mere mortals however are sat gulping Gin mumbling 'Fuck it.  Bastard schools ' repeatedly until it all slurs together and sounds more like 'more Prozac please'.

Those of us that are craft-inept or shall we say creatively constipated, are weighing up the possibility of beans on toast every night for a month to free enough money to just buy some costumes.

I'll admit to lingering over the possibility of just putting paper bags over their heads as surely most characters will go shopping at some point, right? Or spraying The Spawn blue or green seeing as most books will at some point mention the sky, or grass.  Then my sensibilities travel to the gutter and I seriously contemplate sending them as Mr Grey or Ana, just to make the teachers feel grotesquely uncomfortable as punishment for inflicting this ridiculously pointless activity on us.

Here's a thought, how about in future, each class pick a book and then at school, as a class activity (in school, that bit is vitally important) they create a mask or something each for a character out of it.  Yes, I'm a genius.  You can thank me later.

For some unfathomable reason, The Spawn's school are doing World Book Day dress up on the 15th.  At this moment it's a toss up as to whether they'll all mysteriously have a 24 hour bug that day or else sending them in costumes they already have, after all, iron man is from a comic book, right?

Through the eyes of children

I challenged myself to stand, starkers, in front of a full length mirror and pick one thing about my body that is 'okay'.  It was a harder task then it sounds. I saw my lank hair.  I saw my weary eyes.  I saw my straggly brows.  I saw a double chin.  I saw bingo wings. I saw a thick waist. I saw a forehead scored with creases and lines.   I saw a large overhanging belly ravaged with stretchmarks. I saw back fat. I saw tits I could dust my toes with.  I eventually decided on my knees. My knees are okay.  I could look at my knees without feeling sick.  They're not fab knees by any means.  They're just inoffensive. 

If I had to describe myself I'd say 5 ft 7 ish, blue/green eyes,  dark red hair, pale skin, pierced,  tattooed, dowdy,  aged,  fat and ugly.  

The next task was even harder; to look at my inner reflection.  The 'Me'. My inner reflection is crippled by mental illness.  I used to be lots of things.  I had infinite likes and dislikes.  I could inspire and be inspired. I was opinionated and present.  I could lead. I was alive. I had a look. I could be vibrant,  quirky,  bubbly,  intense and yes.... fucking annoying.  But I was someone (at times it felt like I was several someones) I was something.  

Now? I'm nobody.  I'm nothing. 

It's not an emo thing.  It's an empty thing. 

I rarely leave the house. I don't speak to anyone.  I have no hobbies or interests anymore.  The few friends I have, live in my computer.  I rarely wear makeup.  I often forget to brush my hair.  I  have only a handful of clothes; they're bland.   I have to concentrate to remember to talk or move or even just to be. I'm insular, anxious, sad, angry, lonely boring, numb and empty.  I enjoy very few things other than The Spawn.

I can't define myself because there's not enough me to define.

I worry that my kids deserve better.  That they deserve more.  That they'll resent me for hardly going out.  For not being interesting or funny or beautiful.  For failing at Pinterest. 

So I asked them to describe me.  And they did. 

Kids are brutal.  And honest.  I expected them to say that I'm fat, cross, sad, boring and never go anywhere or do anything with them.  

Never assume how others see you.  Don't let who and what you think you are define how you think others see you. They have their own eyes and minds.

Take a walk outside your mind.

You only have one life. It's wasted if you live it inside yourself.

We are our own prison.

I'm Mamaundone,  I have okay knees, awesome kids and my story isn't over yet .

There's a lot of blank pages to fill.



Look in a mirror today.  Tell me:

* One part of your body you like
* Something about your face you like
* Three positive things about your personality.

Family traditions at Christmas

There's something about being a parent that makes you want to create memories to Cherish.  You want your spawn to grow up with fond recollections of what you did and to see them carry it on.  Traditions.  You want to make traditions.

The problem with traditions however is that you have to commit to them, like the pig did to a cooked breakfast. 

Think about it.  Every year.

When I was a kid my parents never went hugely festive.  Sure we had the tree etc but other than three things everything else was more rules than tradition such as no going into the lounge until everyone is awake and no opening presents until the dog had been let out in the garden to pee and a tea tray was ready.   When we were all older The Mother tried to replace the every man for himself with an elongated process of taking turns to open one present at a time.  Now I'm a parent I totally understand the wanting to see everything part but as a child ... who wants to watch everyone else let alone have everyone bog at you every time you own something forcing you to display over exaggerated expressions of gratitude for socks.

So let's talk about some of the traditions I've come across, we're not talking cultural ones we're just talking common popular, well known ones.   Before I get stuck in,  I'm not dissing them per se, I just can't relate to them.  So wind your necks in,  If it works for you.... I'm glad, possibly even envious.  I never said I wasn't a Grinch.

Pyjamas

I won't even pretend to understand the relevance of new PJ'S on Christmas Eve.  Apparently it's a 'thing'. A very popular thing even.  To me however it's just alien.

Stocking

I've never in my life had a Christmas stocking.  Ever.  Neither have The Spawn. In fact I think if they found some new underwear, chocolate coins and a toothbrush in the bottom of a giant Xmas sock their 'WTF?!' Reaction would be warranted. 

Elf on a shelf

The creepy little fucker that gets up to all kinds of stuff that if your kids ever did they'd get bollocked for whilst the parents Facebook all the scenes they spent their evening setting up to try and out-elf all the other parents on the Internet and win the precocious Pinterest crown.  The elf then pisses off back home on Christmas Eve. 

Ok so I admit.  The Dude would possibly find this hilarious.  Maybe.  But think about it... That's 24 different stunts or pranks every December for years. I'd end up hanging it with a noose.

Not to mention it's another little sod you have to clean up after. 

Christmas Eve boxes

A lovely idea.  No, really.  I'm not even being sarcastic here.  Seriously. 

If you have one child.

Or a fat wallet.

I was going to do one this year but I'd either have to replicate everything four times or else endure a real life Hunger Games as The Spawn battle it out.

Gifts for teachers

Just no. They get paid. Plus it's never just 'a' teacher these days.  It's three part timers and leagues of Teaching Assistants. Not to mention the Dinner Ladies, caretaker and office staff.  We're skint and I'm scrooge. Bite me.

Gingerbread houses.

There isn't enough gin or prozac in the world to make me endure the masochistic task of attempting this with The Spawn and the ones you buy and assemble taste like shit.

So what do we do tradition wise here? !

Santa Snacks

Who doesn't?  No wonder he's obese.  Surely leaving out a snack and drink for Mr C and a carrot for Rudolph is the law?

Christmas Lanterns

Two years ago The Spawn decorated some jam jars with tissue paper and glue.  We put a tea light (which my phone just tried to auto correct to Taliban... How absurd,  they wouldn't fit) in them.  We leave these next to the santa snack to glow and guide him to our home.

Pillowcases

As a kid we left Pillowcases out in our room and Santa would collect them,  fill them with presents and leave them in the lounge.   I have The Spawn do the same.

Reindeer food

I'd never heard of this until the inlaws bought The Spawn some from a charity shop a few years ago.  Every year since I fill bags with oats and glitter and the kids sprinkle out the front door (and all over the bastard carpet.  Gits. )

End of bed present

When I was a child, every year,  Santa would leave us a present on the end of our beds which The Parents geniusly named 'The End Of Bed Present'  catchy isn't it?  It was usually an annual.  The reason behind it was to keep us occupied (aka quiet) until everyone was awake and we were allowed downstairs.  This is something we've carried on with a The Spawn.

Chocolate Fingers

As a child, we always scoffed chocolate fingers for breakfast as we opened presents.   Whenever I remember I buy them too for Christmas morning.

Tree presents

Another from my childhood.  Every year my mum would buy us all a small gift which went on the tree. They'd stay there until New Years Day when they'd be placed next to our cutlery and a Christmas cracker at the dinner table.  Sure enough there's currently 5 presents (I don't bother getting myself one) on our tree.

There's so many cute ideas out there such as sooty/snowy footprints but like I said,  It's the commitmaent thing (and the mess)

I always thought I'd let each spawn choose a new Christmas bauble each year yet I never seemed to have the money at the right time and after the first year of parenthood passed it seemed daft to implement it randomly. 

What are your Christmas Traditions?  Did you create them yourself or are they from your own childhood? Are there any you regret starting or any you wish you had started?

Review: Monkey Mama Teething/Fiddle Necklace

www.tiarasandprozac.co.uk

I've spent a lot of time nursing.  In total I've nursed for over 7 years.  A lot of baby items I find superfluous and terribly gimmicky and thus refuse to be lured in by their ridiculous beguile.  Other items are just absolutely necessary.  Then there's those items that you never knew you needed until in a sleep deprived frivolous mania you buy one and then wonder why on earth you'd never bought one sooner.

If you're a breastfeeder chances are you've been scratched, pinched and poked by the talons of your vicious spawn mid feed as their wandering paws 'explore' your landscape leading to you exploring the depths of your blue vocabulary.  It's not that they're gits per se... They know not what they do. Honest.   They're just curious little beasts. They're also easily distracted and without something to focus on can become fussy at the best resulting in stretchio-nippleo syndrome (yes, I did just absolutely invent that term) as they attempt to pull away and look at something whilst still in the process of nursing.  Ouch. Sods.

With Thing Two I bought a 'nursing necklace' which was basically a long necklace of lurid plastic beads.  It was supposed to enchant her. It was supposed to entertain her. It was supposed to stop her gouging into tits with itty baby claws .  Yet the only thing it achieved was making me look like a prat.   Even The Dude wouldn't entertain it unless he wasn't feeding and he could wear it.  Much more fun to grab a fistful of my flesh and pinch whilst feeding.  But hey,  it's okay, he stared adoringly into my eyes as he did it.

The only thing that occasionally engaged their hands was a muslin placed between their grappling fist and my ginormo boob of doom.  If the muslin remotely attempted to impart an iota of modesty to us it was ripped off with an angry growl through a suckling mouth full of boob. What can I say?  My kids are proud of feeding and like to show it.

With Moomin being our last ever baby I'm on a mission to try the things I've been curious about.  I've been drawn to the beautiful simplicity of wooden fiddle necklaces for a while.  They're beautiful and wearable. They're understated and tactile.  They don't scream out baby or functional. Then I found the teething necklaces.   Thing Two was rather partial to teething on the leather strap of my Mother's handbag; strange child.  It still bares the teeth marks.   As I'm a babywearer it would be handy to have something always  at hand for Moomin to chomp on with the added bonus of being able to fiddle with it instead of yanking my hair. I bought mine from the lovely Monkey Mama Necklaces.

As soon as it arrived I put it on. It has an adjustable cord so can be worn as a long pendant when nursing for baby to fiddle with or to chomp on when sat on my knee. Worn shorter she can access it when in the sling.  Without a baby it simply looks like a funky necklace.

What can I say?  She loved it.  As soon as her hands began to stray and grab fist fulls of my flesh I'd dangle the pendant near them and she'd grasp it.  She's since fallen asleep several times clutching it tight.  It was invaluable at entertaining her at the recent influx of school performances keeping her occupied in my arms and on my knee as she fiddled and gummed it.  She evidently finds something satisfying and comforting about the tactile nature of the wood and the beads.

The only problem I face now is that as I wear it daily I find myself wanting a selection of them in different styles and colours! 

I highly recommend them regardless of wether you breastfed or babywear as all babies have curious hands and pesky gums. 

You can buy one from Monkey Mama Necklaces.  She makes a variety of fiddle necklaces and teething necklaces varying from natural to subtle to fun and colourful.

***Disclaimer: I received neither payment nor gift for this review.  I bought the necklace myself and was impressed enough to share.  All views and images are my own.

Please note these are not a toy.  These should be worn by an adult and babies and toddlers should be supervised at all times.

www.tiarasandprozac.co.uk

The Vest Epiphany

Using this image without linking to here isn't sharing it's just theft.  

You've heard the old adage 'you learn something new everyday' or even 'you can't teach an old dog new tricks'? Well this old dog recently learned a very new trick.

Ten years I've been a Mum, ten years.  Not once in these ten years did I question why baby vests have envelope shoulders.  I just blithely accepted that this is how the world is.  Sure, it makes them a bit easier to get them over baby's head but that's about it.  Then somebody on a FaceBook parenting group enlightened me with the news that the shoulder design serves a purpose.  We've all been there, your baby has created a poonami.  Shit (or vomit) has quite literally hit the fan (and everywhere else).  You need to strip baby and hose them down. You fear things couldn't possibly get any worse until you try to get the vest over their head (something many babies object to even when the vest isn't dripping with shit) cue poo being moved up over their chest, shoulders and in their hair.

So what if I told you that you can roll the vests down and take them off that way?  Crisis averted.

If you already knew this, why didn't you tell me?! If this is news to you, like it was to me, welcome to enlightenment!

Ever the cynic I decided to try this strange witchery out.  It works.  Better still, it works one handed! How do I know this? why, I filmed it of course!  Actually I filmed it twice.  The first time was a genuine poonami situation yet I feared the site of explosive breastfed poo splattered baby may traumatise you so I did it again with a clean Moomin then tossed a coin as to which one I blogged.  Excuse the crap video, I'm not a V-Blogger, it was midnight with shit lighting and it's filmed one handed with my phone. Oh and yes, Moomin did infact poo mid video.  She's her Father's child.

***Disclaimer: this entry is a bit of fun, a parenting hack. Obviously I don't know if this is officially the reason they were designed this way but it's certainly made my life a whole lot easier!   I should imagine they're intended to make it easier to go over their disproportionately large heads ;)

When the emotions are bigger than the child.

As an adult I think we're often guilty of neglecting to acknowledge the immensity and complexity of emotions that young children experience.  For some absurd reason we seem to assume that until they reach puberty they rely heavily upon the basic instincts of emotion such as sadness, love, happiness and anger.  To an extent they do, yet the problem is that for crude basic emotions, they're actually incredibly large emotions.  A tantrumming child isn't merely being a brat, they're often struggling and lacking the capacity to contain a reactive emotion.  Sometimes an emotion simply becomes too hard and too big to manage.  It has to go somewhere so quite literally it explodes. It comes to the point where they can't control the emotion so the emotion begins to control them. They're furious, indignant and upset. Words are eaten by the flames and the ability to rationally communicate is replaced with lashing out and primal verbalisations.

Occasionally if we're lucky enough we can spot the signs of it brewing and intercept through validating it before it escalates and helping them to understand it; to reason through it with them.  Other times, we're not so lucky.  At this point reasoning is futile.  They're unable to contain the emotion, the emotion is controlling them so they have an inability to reason with it, let alone with you.  The more you try to invalidate and extinguish it, the stronger hold it takes over them and the harder they'll fight against you and reason.  It's tempting to issue sharp words yet since when does fire cancel fire?  Rather than diluting it, in our quest to extinguish it we only feed it.  Their campfire is now a bonfire

It doesn't matter how ridiculous/annoying/pointless we feel the catalyst was, to the preschooler experiencing it, it matters. At this moment in time, it's all that matters.

They're not thinking, they're feeling.  The worst part is they can't stop feeling.  The feelings are consuming them.  And growing.

Yet anger and frustration can be contagious.

Our job is to try and not catch it.

They need us to remain calm more than ever.  They're neither ready nor able to be calm right now yet they need us to be, to represent the calm after the storm.

This isn't to say we mollycoddle them and encourage their outbursts. They'll say hateful things ("I HATE you!") they may even lash out physically.  We need to remember this is the emotion not the child.

Often I'll  try to stay calm (no easy feat for me an i'm only human, I often fail) and let them know i'm here yet I'm not talking to them until they're able to listen. Sometimes, when it's got this far all you can do is let the emotion burn itself out.  Don't retaliate.  If he's screaming at me, I'll turn away.  If he's hitting, i'll block.  The idea is to dilute this.  If only one person is screaming or lashing out without a reaction or retaliation, it will eventually cancel itself out.  Starve the fire.

Eventually they will calm.  Often he'll storm away and remove himself from the situation be it hiding under his train table or sitting in the hall.  On a good day he'll even return and apologise, here is the opener, he's ready to talk.  More importantly, he's ready to listen.  Sometimes he'll just look so exhausted and scared by the enormity of his emotions that if he appears calmer i'll ask him if he'd like a cuddle to help him calm down.  This isn't a reward nor a forgiveness, this is the basic human need for contact.  For security. This is where we can dissect the emotion that triggered all this, to talk about what happened and to reiterate why things happened or decisions were made.  To explain the effect their behavior and emotions have on others.  There is no blame here, only acknowledgement.  You can still acknowledge that perhaps something you said or did caused this whilst maintaining that what you said or did was appropriate and right.  It's important we validate the emotion, it's okay not to like what they're told or asked to do, it's okay to feel angry etc whilst still enforcing that screaming/lashing out isn't okay and your initial decision isn't changing. Reiterate why you made your initial decision, the one they so disliked.  If we want them to lean to accept what we/decide, we too have to learn to accept their feelings towards it.  We can tell them what they can/can't have, where they can/can't go etc but we should never attempt to tell them what they can or can't feel about it.  You can still accept something without liking it.

They probably don't understand their reaction themselves, they'll be exhausted and a little perplexed.  This is why we need to trace it back to the emotion that triggered it.  The more we teach them it's okay to feel something, the easier it will be to then explain that it's not always okay to act on it.

Use feelings in explanations.  Tell them how being shouted at or hit made you feel.  Explain the impact their words have on you.  Ask them how they'd feel if someone they loved said they hated them, or hit them.  Use basic rudimentary emotions that they are struggling with to explain this such as sad or hurt.

I never ask for nor demand an apology.  I feel prompted apologies are meaningless and strip the child of the process of reflection and regret.  They become a get out of jail free card and meaningless. As such, he apologises in his own time.  When he feels it.  When he thinks it.  I'll often thank him for apologising and ask him what he's sorry for/about again opening up the channels for reflection and understanding.  It's important they understand why they're sorry, to do that they have to feel it.  Sometimes the sorry may come immediately other times it will take it's time yet strangely as much as you crave the 'sorry' it's often more appreciated when it's later then you expected it.  It shows they've thought about it.

Recently The Preschooler opened my eyes to another aspect of emotion that I'd somehow not considered before, their inability to combine two battling emotions.  They can feel frustration and anger, they can feel happiness and excitement yet what they can struggle to comprehend is love and anger, love and hate etc.

The Preschooler frequently screams at me lately that he hates me, to which i'll reply along the lines of how that's quite sad or a shame because I still love him.

One evening when he'd been particularly inflammatory and made me terrifically cross, I told him I loved him.  He surprised me when he replied that I can't love him because i'm angry with him.  He genuinely couldn't grasp the concept that you can be angry with someone, hate what they say/do yet still love them.  He appeared to believe that all emotions are transient and you can only occupy one at a time.  This explains the 'i hate you!' in place of 'I hate what you're saying/doing'  The emotion is a whole and the person is a whole, thus if you dislike what the person has done you must thus dislike the person along with it.

I'll admit I've never given thought to this before; the difficulty a child faces accepting multiple emotions and worse, tangled emotions.  Sometimes we have to go back to basics.

Yet it absolutely reinforces that my initial reaction to his hate speech was to state that I loved him.  This is the seed that will grow the understanding that you can love someone yet dislike them at the same time.  That some emotions are unconditional.  That you can love someone in-spite of them as well as because of them.  That he realises even when i'm horrifically cross with him, I still love him.

At times he'll try to make sense of it and when calm he'll either say 'I'm sorry for saying I hate you' or more amusingly 'I hate you a million and love you one' the latter is new.  The latter is showing the growing understanding that you can feel conflicting emotions about someone simultaneously.

I don't think we always give children enough credit for the steep learning curves they go through emotionally.  We often underestimate their level of understanding and their ability to cope with what they feel.

Not being allowed to play ball inside might be logical to us yet that doesn't mean that to them it's not the end of the world.

They must learn to understand themselves before they can understand the world around them and sometimes, maybe, just maybe we just need to remember to try and understand them too.

Fun With Water Beads

If there's one thing the local town has in abundance, it's pound shops.  They appear to be everywhere.  I'll admit to rather liking them at times, obviously some are considerably more palatable than others.  Some are a sweaty dark caverns of doom with over stacked shelves looming over you with tit and tat that you'll never need yet judging by the price you convince yourself you might need it, someday.  Yet others are simply bargain central.  I can't for the life of me remember the name of it yet there's one in particular that is light, airy, tidy and well presented.  The perfect stop for those pesky hairslides that Thing Two inevitably loses, all the time.  I refuse to fork out extortionate amounts for them when I can get 30 for £1!  Their six packs of baby flannels make excellent reusable nappy wipes and it's a little haven for cheap craft and art bits and bats for The Spawn.  It also means, after a boring shopping trip we can afford to treat The Preschooler.  He easily finds something he'd like in there every single visit and at a pound a pop, why not?

On our last visit there I was drawn to something I've been tempted to try for some time, water beads!  I'm not one for popping into florist supply shops on a whim and I never quite got round to ordering them online so this seemed almost like an omen.  I'll admit to being a trifle suspicious at what we'd get for a £1 so the skeptical side of me purchased two boxes just in case.

It's a rather simple process, you simply add the minuscule little packets of colourful doo-dahs to water.  They came with their own test tubes with the suggestion you fill it with a colour of your choice.  Sod that.  It would be akin to picking out a particular colour from cake sprinkles.  Never to do something by halves we opted instead to dump both packs into a large bowl of water.  The idea is you then observe as they grow.    I'm never quite sure who has the least spectacular attention span, myself or The Preschooler, regardless, neither of us were bored enough to stare at a bowl of water for longer than a few minutes.  Granted they did grow, yet they seemed to stop producing a deflated 'is that it?!' reaction from the both of us.  To say it was underwhelming would be an understatement.  I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt as the instructions have no indication as to how long it should take for them to expand fully.

We checked on their progress about an hour or so later and this was more liking to what I had expected, we
had a slimy bowl of multicoloured marble sized balls in water.  It's impossible to gaze upon them and not plunge your hand into them.  There is something creepy yet utterly satisfying about the slippery slime of the water and these slippery balls.  Granted the little buggers like escaping and they're an arse to pick up off the floor.





Their charm proved irresistible to Thing Two also.  She couldn't stop herself from plunging her hand into them.  In her usual effortless way she encouraged play through asking The Preschooler to find certain colours to make 'potions' as I introduced some measuring cups and the test tubes.

Seeing water slop all over the show I drained the beads so they had the shiny, glistening, oddly textured little balls of delight to play with, without the added mess of water.  This proved equally as satisfying to them and just as beguiling.  I feared they'd have a limited attraction, a mere novelty yet they audibly groaned when I told them it was time to tidy up and the first thing Thing Two requested to play with upon arriving home from school today was the water beads.






They are tempting though.  Just a mere glance of them is teasing to the senses.  I'll admit to having dunked
by hand into them on several occasions today in passing.

I think they'd look stunning over a lightbox in a dark room.  They'd also be more engaging with a longer shallower tub to hold them in.

These are sublime for sensory play and are helpful in teaching colours and the notions of absorbing and expanding. If you haven't tried them already, I highly recommend you give them a go.

The Bad Mother's Handbook: how to successfully steal your child's chocolate.

Easter loot is much easier to store if you get rid of all the excess packaging and break up the eggs into bite size pieces.  These can then be stored along with the sweets etc in zip lock bags or tupperware tubs.  Write each child's name on their bag to avoid war breaking out.  

The other bonus of storing them like this is that you can routinely pinch their loot and they rarely realise.  It's not as obvious when pieces from a whole bag of pieces go missing. Likewise it's harder to keep track of how much should be in there.  Win!

I believe is terribly important that children learn valuable life lessons so also use easter as an opportunity to introduce the notion of tax under the notion of chocolate tax. Thus every time a child earns some chocolate it's your responsibility to tax it. Essentially they have to hand over some of their chocolate before they can eat some. 

Of course we're only thinking of their teeth. Honest. 

'I Hate You!'

It's easy to become complacent in parenting and then one of the little sods will throw us a curveball, just to remind us they're all so delightfully different.

The Preschooler has somehow picked up the phrase 'I HATE YOU' and will throw it at us whenever he feels we have done him a disservice. This is new to us. Things One & Two have never uttered this. We've always explained things such as the true meaning of words and to mean what you say. They know that they may strongly dislike something or someone but the chances are they don't actually hate them and vice versa with the term love. So it's somewhat trifling as to where The Preschooler garnered this phrase from that he throws around so readily. It seems we're having to go around this development somewhat arse over tit insofar as to say rather then emphasising the words power and meaning we're having to simultaneously strip it of it too. Why is this parenting lark never simple?

So how do you react to a three year old declaring that he hates you, or his siblings?

Things One and Two have that instinctive response of 'I hate you too' to which we have to insist they refrain from using, because they don't...hate him, not really.  They'll readily admit this when they think about it because that's part of what we're doing, trying to make them think about what they say. To only say something if they mean it. It's like when The Preschooler states 'You're not using my crayons, EVER again!' their instinct is to respond with 'well you're not allowed to use my [whatever] then!' Which isn't terribly helpful. rather than diffuse the situation it merely ignites it. It's teaching The Preschooler that his initial declaration was the right thing to do, that this is how we operate. This is how we treat each other and that too not share out of spite is acceptable.

I'll admit I'm working blind here but I respond to the infamous 'I HATE YOU.' with something along the lines of 'well that's a shame because I love you' I feel it's important to face adversity with security. That he realises no matter what he says, I still love him and he can't make me stop that. It often diffuses the situation. Other times I may reply with 'Oh, that makes Mummy feel sad as she loves you very much' which I feel, subtly without reproach, expresses the effect his words can have on others feelings whilst still re-enforcing that he is loved regardless.  Most of all it's accepting what he's saying.  I may not like it or agree with it and hell, I don't even think he means it but it's important that he feels his thoughts and feelings are valid.  Often we reflect more upon them once they're accepted.

Nine times out of ten within ten minutes he'll either spontaneously tell me he loves me or ever start a conversation with me. With the latter I'll occasionally respond with 'oh but I thought you hated me?' A rather sincere little voice will then tell me 'I don't really' he's had time to reflect on what he's said without being made too.

His other favourite phrase mid rage is 'I'm not talking to you anymore! ' usually said when you're trying to explain something to him. My usual response is an 'okay'. It's frustrating yet I know if I rise to the bait to make him stay and discuss something it will ignite. The lack of reaction is what diffuses this ticking bomb. Predictably within five minutes he'll start a conversation, this is where I remind him of his previous actions 'Oh but I thought you weren't talking to me? ' It's subtle and silent but this is where the penny drops and he realises the ramifications of his words and offers an indignant little 'But I am now! '

Often the above scenario is accompanied by a quality sulk. Usually if I'm trying to have a conversation with him or get him to do something I've asked of him the 'I'm not talking to you! ' is accompanied by him storming off to sulk somewhere. The Little diva even slams doors en route. The huntress within me is raging and indignant. How dare he walk away when I'm talking to him? ! How dare he refuse to pick the pens up that he threw! It goads me to chase and confront. To hunt him down until he submits.

And that urge? That instinctive indignant drive is exactly what fuels his behaviour yet how on earth is he to learn to control it if I can't as an adult?  Instinct is a powerful thing and we shouldn't smother it, the learning curve is that we shouldn't always act upon it.

Practising restraint I have to use the ancient art of patience. Not something that comes naturally to me so it's no surprise that with inheriting my explosive temper they'll also inherit my lacking patience.

Now it's the waiting game. Usually he'll either return with a sincere little 'sorry' or else he will ask something un connected.

If it's the former I'll ask him to tell me why he's sorry. It's important to establish whether he's understood what's happened or whether he just feels it's something he should say. Often he'll surprise me and relay what happened.

If it's the latter I'll calmly state that I'll happily talk after he's picked the pens up. This option he dislikes. It's important that whilst I'm not conversing with him I'm also not completely ignoring him as I feel ignoring is counter productive. To close communication channels completely is sending out a harmful message which could have repercussions on how and what your child communicates to you in the future.

However, I will firmly refuse to engage meaningfully until he's addressed the issue and embarked upon its resolution.

So for now it's the 'I hate you's' and the 'I'm not talking to you's' with the door slammings and sulks. Yes, he's a diva but he's our diva. He's also just a four year old learning how to deal with strong emotions and concepts. It's inevitable that he'll have to push some boundaries in the process. It's intrinsic that he feels secure enough to be able to do this. To know that although his reactions may not always be acceptable, they are valid.

He's learning important life lessons here like people piss you off and likewise you probably piss them off too.

And that's okay.

Honest.

Toddlers Guide to going out : By A. Toddler

Listen up buddies, huddle.  Yeah you at the back too, lets huddle and listen up.  This is important life stuff we be sharing here.

At times, parents will decide to take us out, into that big world place.  Like with everything we do we have rules and rules must be followed.

 It's important parents don't start off under any guise that this will be easy.  This will never ever be easy.  They got themselves into this mess and they can now deal with the repercussions.

Before we leave:

1. You'll see a bag, a big bag.  Mummy & Daddy can't leave the house without it.  In it you'll find a miniature world.  It has toys, nappies, wipes, nappy sacks, snacks, clothes.  All the good stuff.  Parents are playful creatures yet if we neglect to engage in games with them, they become lazy and bored and then they become destructive.  Now locate this bag, open it and....empty it.  Empty it good.  Done that?  Stay with us bro, you're not done yet.  Choose an item, or three and hide it.  Now we're talking.

2. Timing is everything.  Everything. You must be vigilant at all times, look out for the signs of departure such as rampant re-packing of the bag, shoes and coats going on.  Wait, wait for it. Now 1,2,3 SHIT. Doesn't that feel good? Flash that dimply smile, work it baby.  Now this is your shit.  You made it, you squeezed it.  Right now it's even warm.  They will try and take it! Why they think they can take it before we've finished rolling in it is beyond me, parents think in mysterious ways.  It's our job to rewire this thinking, to redirect these erranous ways.  Avoid being tackled.  Wriggle, squirm, kick and scream.  Now here comes the fresh one, all soft and clean.  No shit is complete without a wee.  Only ingrates will wee on a poo nappy.  They can take our nappies but they will never take our freedom,. Wee! that's it, right there.  If you have a willy, aim for the face dude! If you don't, even better.  It will make a nice warm little pool under you and you'll need clean clothes too! Bonus points!

In the Car

1. Some parents have brum brums.  You get put into this seat and get to stare at the back of a seat.  It's time to warm up those vocal chords my friends.  Wait until the vehicle is in motion and CRY. It's vital they focus their attention on you and not the brum brum.  Just before you arrive at your destination, sleep.  After all it's exhausting being a baby or ttoddler  This will then teach them the lesson of 'you put us in here now you work out how to get us out.  Without waking us'  This is a mental exercise and helps keep their logic and problem solving areas of the brain working and in tip top shape.

In the buggy

1. Excellent, your own set of wheels.   Check out the chrome on mine baby.  Yeah.  These are comfy as, comfy as i'm saying.  However, where's the fun, the effort in pushing one of these?  They hang their shopping on them, ruining the suspension and they're not concentrating on US. Rookie error on their part, it's okay.  The correction for this is simple.  CRY. If you cry hard enough and long enough they will pick you up.  This is more like it, now they have to carry us, jiggle us, shush us AND steer the buggy.  Their coordination skills are getting a thorough work out now.  If they're playing candy crush or if your mum is parked in the loos taking selfies there may be a delay in their reaction time.  Just cry harder.  Simples.  Cry like you're being tortured and look pleadingly to any passers by.  Give them your best 'rescue me!' look.  They then put the guilts on your parent and voila, we get the reaction.

2. When it's raining they use this absurd thing, like a bubble.  What the hell is that about?  Rain is good, it goes splishy splashy drip drop!  Yet for some reason, it starts to rain and parents get all flustered.  Resist.  Resist the bubble.  At all costs.  Don't they realise these come from baby hell?

Walking

1. If you're a walker, high five! When in buggy, demand to get out and walk.  If you complain loud enough they will release you from the restraints.  It's best to do this when they're in a hurry.  Rushing is bad for blood pressure and anxiety levels so it's intrinsic that we slow them down.  It's for their own good.  We need to take them back to basics.  Let them appreciate this here world.  For every 5 steps we take forward take 3 back.  Introduce them to the treasures the world has to offer like flowers, rocks and sticks.  Give them their own collection to hold and cherish.  There's so much to see! Birdies, clouds, an aeroplane, dog shit! The latter is a good one, the closer you get the more they squeal.  Hours of fun!

2.  Sometimes they need a little variety in life, try taking them the opposite way to which they were thinking.  It gets them so excited!

3.  Every five minutes demand 'up' , they need the reassurance of a cuddle.  They're get quite anxious when separated from us, physically.  Silly parents!

4. Be careful not to create a rod for your back, if we let them carry us all the time they will always want to carry us.  Be cruel to be kind.  Every 5 minutes of being carried alternate with demanding to be put down. Then utilise the model of rapid return and demand up again just so they don't get too distressed.  It's a long hard slog but we must keep it up if we want them to learn.

5. We decide when it's buggy time.  We are the authority here.  If they attempt to force our hand with an early return to it.... RUN.  Run like the wind.  Run to the hills.  They will chase, it's okay they may look like they can't breath but it's just exercise.  They need this.  If they get ahead of themselves, fall.  Immediately follow this with screams.  Not only will they rightfully get to feel bad, you get cuddles and if you've trained them right, chocolate!

In the sling

1. Too much of a good thing makes them complacent.  Complacency is a bad bad thing.  Parents thrive on unpredictability.  It keeps their wits sharp and their sanity strong.  We like the sling.  They like the sling.  But as much as we'd like to make this easy, it's our duty not to.

If they put it on prior to leaving, we're good to go.  It's comfy and snuggly.  If you're on their back you get to style their hair for them, snot makes great gel! You can even decorate it and prettify their hair with whatever they let you eat.  They will let you eat.  It's payment for not kicking and biting.  We've earned it.

2. If they keep stopping they'll never stay fit.  If they dare stop and join queues and what not, it's our job to remind them that this is unacceptable.  Stillness is laziness.  They stop moving, we start crying.  It's a bit like pinching them, they'll start to jiggle and move.  If they stop, cry again.  They need the reminder, the encouragement.

3. There's a secret babywearers look.  Mums and dads give it to others.  If you see another babywearer, it's reallllly important you smile back.  Alternatively, should you encounter one of those pesky none-believers you need to help your parents demonstrate how easy it all is.  Pretend you're being tortured, I know it's hard but it's important.  It's necessary.  Pretend the lovely comfy sling is a contraption of terror.  It's important our parents get to relate an array if emotions, this one will trigger embarrassment.  It's a very productive emotion.  Funny too.  Now we have their attention lets demonstrate the safety of the sling, we know and they know that we're safe but we must enlighten the none believers.  Lean it to the right, lean it to the left and throw yourself back.  This gives the none believer a rare glimpse into just how secure we are.

4.  It's inevitable we'll be in and out of the sling whilst out.  People will stare, those none believers.  If our parents make it look too easy, people will get bored.  Our job here is to entertain.  To make them think on the spot.  Challenge them.  We must disguise how easy it all is and make it appear as awkward as possible.  The more flustered they get the longer it will take them to put us back in the sling and the more people get to watch.  Fidget, flail, whinge, squirm and struggle.  This is your moment to shine.  If you make it too hard they'll give up, we must reward their efforts.  Once secure and comfy, snuggle up.  It's of utmost importance you wait until you're alone and nobodies watching, then fall asleep.  It's safe now.  Your work is done.  It's exhausting work.  Relax.

In the shops

1. You get to ride in a big shiny trolley!  You gain extra height and increased reach.  Shopping is a tiring activity so it's our job to help poor old Mummy & Daddy.  We must put things in the trolley.  It doesn't matter what, get anything.  They're too self absorbed to notice or appreciate our help but the quicker we help fill the trolley the sooner we can all go home.  They make appear thankless, but it's okay.  We know we've helped and that's what's important.

2. If you feel they're taking too long, to recapture their attention try filling your nappy, it helps give them a change of scenery.  You could also remind them that you're hungry.  Really really HUNGRY.  A break is as good as a holiday.  By the time they've fed or changed us they'll have a renewed sense of focus.

3. Smile sweetly at the other shoppers.  Work it, work it baby.  Smile with your eyes.  Draw those suckers in.  You're beautiful.  You're adorable.  This means you will get more public support when your parents wrongly decide you can't have that new toy and you have to teach them a lesson by acting broken.  How dare your parents upset such a lovely child the shoppers will think.  Parents are the bad guys here and this will ensure everybody realises how mean they are.

On the Potty

Sometimes when we're out, Mummy & Daddy can really try and take advantage of our good nature.  They will say we have no time to chase pigeons, no time to go round the pet shop and no time to go round the toy shop yet plenty of time to go round their shops.  Remember too much of a good thing is bad for them.  We must teach them restraint.  If they've been looking in their boring shops for too long, it's time to go wee wee.  Trust me, they won't make you wait too long.

Once in the toilet:

1. They'll probably want to wee too, now is time to ask them questions so they don't get bored sat on the toilet.  It's important to ask them loudly because sometimes they pretend they can't hear us and don't answer.  Good questions include:

a) "Are you pooing Mummy?"
b) "Why is your front bum so hairy? / why is your willy so hairy?"
c) "Why does it smell so yucky?"
d) "Why are you opening sweeties in the toilet?"
e) "Why are you putting nappies in your knickers?"
f)  "You pumped!"

2. There's a great toy in here, it lets you pull paper out sheet by sheet! You have to see how many sheets you can pull out before Mummy/Daddy finishes weeing.

On the bus

1. You have a captured audience here.  This is the perfect opportunity to practice your new words.  to showcase them to your parents.  The special words that you have to be really grown up and clever to use.  they will be so proud! Start slowly and ease your way in with 'hiya', 'mama' and then wow them with 'shit'.  Watch your parents glow with pride!

2. If you've been talking a while, you can use your ability to help stop mum and dad becoming bored on the bus.  Keep them occupied otherwise they'll get bored and when parents get bored they get naughty.  Ask them questions about your surroundings like 'why does that lady have a beard?' 'why is that man so fat?' and 'why does that person smell so yuck?' it will increase their awareness of their surroundings and help them practice their talking.

15 reasons why Toddlers are just miniature drunks.

Ever wondered just how alike Toddlers are to drunks?

1. They both have questionable balance and have tendencies to walk into things.  A lot. They fall over, themselves, too.

2. Both will talk at you.  Not to you but at you.  As in you have no choice but to listen.  If you walk away, they'll follow.

3. Both will spontaneously laugh or cry, usually at absolutely inappropriate moments.

4.  Both have difficulty aiming wee into the toilet.

5. They both, apparently, love you.  Or so they tell you.

6. Neither can adequately achieve getting food into their mouths without making a mess, or wearing it.

7. Both decide they're hungry in the early hours of the morning when they should be asleep and empty your fridge.

8. Neither can be trusted to find their way home on their own.

9. Both can fall asleep mid chewing something.  Or mid conversation.  Or even sat on the loo.

10. Neither have any volume regulation when talking.

11. Both snot copiously, on you, when they cry.

12. Both find willies hilarious.

13. Neither can get a key into a lock.

14. They both tend to have an exaggerated and somewhat disastrous sense of their own capabilities.  In other words, they attempt inexplicable feats and inevitably fail. Painfully.

15. Neither should be trusted around water.

Swearing

Final rant, promise.  Well, for now at least.

[Apparently this post may offend. Just to clarify this is my personal rant reflecting my personal opinions and peeves. If it offends you then your opposing opinion probably offends me too! ]

I have what could be termed as a potty mouth.  I swear like a trooper.  However, I rarely ever swear at or in the vicinity of my children.  There's basic boundaries you should have, just like when  I was a teenager, you swore all day long to your mates yet you wouldn't dare swear at your teacher, parent or neighbour.  You just didn't.  Likewise you didn't expect them to swear at you.  It was basic respect.

The problem these days is that people have forgotten the purpose, the function of swearing.  Swearing is technically profanity, the use of expletives.  Swearing is not and should not be a fashion of bridging sentences together.  A true bridge would be a word such as 'and'.

A simple trip on the bus will surround you with conversation of 'yeah i fucking went and saw Si the other fucking day he was well off his fucking head the stupid c*nt'  What purpose really does that kind of sentence serve?  Does it makes the person appear literate?  Educated? Profound? Poignant?  Does the excessive and lazy utilisation of expletives make a point? No.  So many words in the dictionary, yet they can't appear to think of any alternatives.  It's not nice to hear this, it's irritating.  It becomes worse when travelling with your children and they become subjected to this atrocious misuse of the English language.  It's become so natural that people have no awareness that they're actually doing it and often appear none plussed when The Husband, for The Spawns sake, pulls them up on it and requests they adjust their language.

If you want to use profanity and expletives, do so by all means but have some grasp of the correct useage of them first! Educate yourself with a basic understanding on their purpose.

An expletive is supposed to have an effect, it's supposed to be vulgar.  An emphasis.

I'm absolutely appalled at how many parents appear to openly and routinely swear in front of and at times to their children.  It's unnecessary and in my opinion irresponsible.  It's why by age 8 your child may be swearing right back at you.  They've become so used to hearing it with no basic understanding of it that it becomes a part of their every day language.  I also don't appreciate you swearing profusely and needlessly right outside the Nursery whilst waiting for the Two, Three and Four year olds to enter/exit.

Where has the basic parenting gone?  Surely it is common sense that you don't swear at nor in the vicinity of Children? Why on earth would you? There's thousands of  none expletives!

It makes me sad.  It makes me angry. It's irresponsible and lazy.

We're not perfect, occasionally the odd expletive slips out, usually a b-grade, rarely an A-grade expletive. We're only human.   Granted The Husband is guiltier than me.  Especially when he's wrong or losing an argument.  It's an awareness of it that matters.  Taking the effort to refrain.  Behaving appropriately around children.

Then again I'm also a firm believer that if a parent must smoke, that too should not be done around nor in sight of their children.  Children learn through replicating the behaviours and attitudes they see around them.

As parents we are their role models, surely part of that responsibility to to try and continually be a better one.

Granted once the kids are out or asleep, the air turns blue with my somewhat colourful language but that's all part of the job.

The Naming Game | How to Name, or not name your child.

Have you ever looked back to when you were a little girl?  When you knew exactly how your wedding would be and you'd already named all your kids?  Then you have a real wedding and real children and everything changes.

I love naming. I love names.  Even though I know I shouldn't, as soon as those two lines stare at me my mind is already making name lists.  Generally by the 20 week scan we have our names sorted and as soon as we find out the gender, baby is named.  Occasionally we'll change or rearrange a middle name yet for the most part, that is the name our child keeps.

However, once you've got past the first trimester you realise that it's not just up to you, oh no, him indoors has a say too.  This wouldn't be so bad if they actually contributed something other then 'No' to every possible name you suggest.

With each pregnancy, our short list of names have been entirely different.  As far as I can remember there has only been one first name that has appeared on the shortlist for two different babies and The Husband said absolutely no both times.  He's an arse like that.

His sole contributions have been 'Lucy' for a girl and 'Kurgen' for a boy.  Every time.  Everytime I say no to the first (lovely name yet my first dog was called Lucy) and no to the second because cool The Highlander connotations aside, it's ugly and crap.

Moomin already has her name.  Sorry but I won't be sharing it as the kids have a right to anonymity on here.

It's not like I don't give The Husband enough choice, seeing his own lack on input yet quickness to discount my suggestions.  Indeed when pregnant with The Preschooler I gave him a long and varied list.  He either straight out vetoed a name with no excuse nor reason given or else he would offer the most tremendously obscure reasons ever.  I'll share some with you but i'll omit the names the comments relate to, you know, because one of your kids probably has one of the names.

"Albatross"

"Sounds like a tropical disease"

"Too biblical"

"One of my cousins (that we never see) has an adopted daughter (that we never see) called that"

"It makes me think of Salmonella"

"It's a cat's name"

"It's a doll from playschool"

"It's a 'nothing' name"

"Too Welsh"

"Too celebrity"

"Too predictable"

"Sounds like a skin disorder"

"A dog's name"

"That was name name of Rocky's wife and she was a shit character"

"Too boring"

"Something to do with a serial killer"

"Too stuck up"

"Too royal"

"Too boring"

"Too much like a stone"

"Too much like a daft bint from X-Factor"

" *just laughter*"

"Too Hollywood"

"Too hilarious"

"Too normal"

"Sounds like a waiter"

"Too Scottish"

"Too poncy"

"Too Swedish"

"Reminds him of Cher"

"Sounds like it should have Fever after"

See what I was up against?

So what do you take into account when naming your child?  Below are some of the questions you should perhaps mull over in your mind when choosing names:

1. Do I know anyone with that name? Do I like that person?

2. Have I ever shagged anyone with that name?

3. Have I ever had a pet with that name?

4. Does it mean 'evil git' or 'Wanton Whore' in some ancient language?

5. Does it spell something gross backwards?

6. How easy is it for someone to butcher the spelling of it?

7. Will my child have to forever spell it out to people?

8. How easy is it for people to fuck up the pronunciation of it?

9. Is there a particular pronunciation of it that I despise?

10. Have I ever met someone I absolutely abhor with that name?

11. Does my partner have an ex with that name?

12. What is it most likely to be shortened too by annoying cretins who insist on shortening names?

13.  Is my child likely to be in a classroom when they're older with several peers with the same name?

14. Would it make a good name for a film star? Prime Minister? Nurse? Bin man? Check out assistant?  News reader? Scientist? etc.

15.  Does it sound porny?

16. If you have other kids, can they pronounce the name? 

17. Does it rhyme with anything negative?

18.  Do the initials spell out anything obvious like BJ, STD or SEX?

19. Can you imagine yourself shouting it across the park?

20. After all that, do you actually still like it?

There have always been some personal pet hates I've had with names:

1. When people purposefully fuck with the spelling to make it 'cool' (this doesn't include legitimate alternative spellings)  Stop bastardising the names, if you don't like it choose something different!  A 'unique' spelling doesn't say 'this child is cool' it says 'this child has illiterate fuckwits for parents'  Stop swapping I's for Y's etc.  You may as well give them 'Jezza Kyle Fodder' for a middle name.  Remember when trying to define your future child, your name choice can say more about you than them!

2.  Choosing a full name when you have no actual intention of ever calling them anything other than the shortened version of it.  Ever. If the shortened version is name enough to use, then have it as their given name!

3.  People who choose a name yet can't actually pronounce it.  I came across a story of a child called Siobhan.  Her teacher naturally called her Siobhan (sh-vaun) until the parents corrected her, apparently their daughter was called Siobhan as in 'Si-o-ban'

4. The name Nenvaeh.

So Moomin is my last baby yet I still have so many names I need to use, oh well...better start buying some more cats then!

16 reasons why your toddler may in fact be a dog (& vice versa)

I miss The Dog terribly, there is an incredible hole in the family without him, yet if you think about it...... if you have a toddler or preschooler, they're practically the same.  One is just slightly less furry than the other.....

1. They both randomly lick and slobber on you.

2. They both get pissed off if you go out without them.

3. Both like walkies

4. Both announce in their own special ways when they need the loo.  Then expect you to clean up after them.

5. Both need grooming.

6. Both nick your food

7. Both will jump all over your furniture, with mucky paws.

8. Bath time is an... interesting and incredibly wet affair with both of them.

9. Both fetch you their toys and demand you play then have the audacity to get pissy, because you have their toy.

10. Both wait until you finally sit down and relax before they full on assault you with a physical display of their uhm ... 'Love'

11. Both physically attach themselves to people that dare to visit your home.

12. Both have a special relationship with the postman/letterbox.

13. Both follow you around the house, get under your feet and threaten to be the cause of you tumbling down the stairs.

14. Both insist on accompanying you to the loo.

15. Both can be trained to fetch your slippers, yet will try and keep them for themselves.

16. They're both noisy little sods.