Play

PostingLearning the lingo

036_Small.JPGReading a piece in The Times about neologisms that are creeping into the language, I started to think about some of the mother-and-baby ones they missed from their list, which included gems like blogosphere (hurrah!), biopiracy, embed and podcast.

Here are some newly coined words and phrases for parents that I've encountered recently. Please let me know if you agree or disagree with them, and about others you've stumbled across.

1. Travel system

Or, to give it the full title, a 3-in-1 travel system. A complex arrangement of plastic, wheels, buckles and straps, costing the annual GDP of Moldova, that mysteriously transforms into car seat, forward-facing pram, rear-facing buggy, rocket ship and Formula One racing car. With optional footmuff and air conditioning. Special prizes available for anyone who can fathom the crypic instruction manual while pregnant or recovering from childbirth. (Pictured above is another kind of 'travel system' altogether)

2. 'Bye bye' - as transitive verb. 'To bye bye' meaning 'to dismiss'

Not strictly a neologism, but usage has changed. 'To bye-bye' is to wave away undesired objects. Example: "She bye byed away the broccoli as she was no longer hungry and waved for Petit Filou." When Beanie gets bored with something she says 'bye bye' to indicate I should remove it.

3. Develo-play

Wheeze to persuade parents of young babies that buying certain toys will boost early motor skills. Often billed as 'interactive'. How the human race survived so long without this stuff at its disposal I can hardly begin to imagine. It wasn't like this back in the late 60's when I was a kid. Cue Last of Summer Wine music.

4. Infant stimulation

The big buzz word of childcare. Surely a ruse dreamt up by toy makers' marketing teams, who have realised they can persuade parents to shell out on tonnes of unwanted and largely useless plastic by laying a guilt trip on them and suggesting that without these toys, children's development will be delayed? Baby Einstein provides CDs of classical music suitable for under-ones.

5. Baby gym

A nest of fabric and colour, with toys dangling from above, for newborn babies to explore.

6. Soft play

Perhaps designed to soothe our fears that children might get hurt while engaging in the rough-and-tumble normal to early childhood.  Little about this experience is soft.

7. Discovery cards

Remember flash cards? They've had a make-over. This is: "the perfect on-the-go learning activity for babies and toddlers"

8. Teether book

Book with plastic edges for babies to bite and chew on while teething.

9. Pacifier

Dummies are increasingly popular with modern parents. And they have a new name, borrowed from North America. Let's face it, pacifier doesn't have the same negative connotations as dummy.

Anyone know of any others?

Posted 30 August 2007 09:40 | Number of comments: 23 | Comments

Childcare Etiquette Kit Perfectionism Play

PostingSleep no more

The Bean is scrabbling at a kitchen cupboard door that her dad and I have barred against her. She tugs at the shiny cream surface, tugs again harder, loses her balance, teeters for a moment, then falls backwards onto her bottom. She emits a shriek of distress and indignation. Mishaps like this happen approximately twenty times daily, but don't normally bother her. On this occasion, however, because she is tired, the fall causes her alarm and distress. It is 9.30am, and we both know she is upset because she's now been up for two and a half hours and is due her morning nap. I silently wonder again how the researchers of a large US university could have decided in their infinite wisdom that letting young children nap could be harmful for them.

Looking smaller than usual sat down on the floor, she lifts up her arms to signal she wants to be held. I bend down to pick her up, cuddle her close to me, and carry my small, disconsolate daughter through to her bedroom, where I draw the window shutters, and lay out her sleep bag in her cot ready for her. She is too tired even to demand to play with her dreamcatcher or inspect her flowery chicken mobile that hangs from the ceiling. Go straight to the cot. Do not pass the toy basket. Do not pause to play with festive Santa bib.

I lift her into the cot, get her left arm into the hole of the sleep bag, then manage to remove her right-hand thumb from her mouth long enough to get the other arm into the bag. In another well-honoured part of our morning ritual she reaches out for the well-chewed form of Mr Bear, her faithful bed-time companion, clutches him to her, and reinserts her thumb in her mouth. "I'll be back when you've had a sleep," I tell her, but she's not listening. She's already shut her eyes, curled onto her side, and is slurping on her thumb, zoned out.

Every morning that The Bean is at home (not nursery) she has a nap on similar lines to this one she had this morning. Not just so that I can use the time to clean, do emails, chat on the phone or catch up on work, though, my goodness, it's great to have the chance to do that, but because she needs the rest, otherwise life becomes too much for her. She hasn't got the energy yet to get through a full day without a sleep top-up.

But woe betide me! For now research from Florida University says that daytime napping prevents children sleeping well at night - and could even impair mental performance. They say children's puzzle-solving abilities can deteriorate when they take longer daytime naps. I might have known it. Is there no area of parenting free of some controversial new recommendation? Pregnancy, toys, food, sleep.... none of it simple, all filled with advice from the so-called 'experts'. Who could be more 'expert' on whether my daughter needs a nap than me and her?

Now, I haven't read the full findings of the Florida survey, which I'm sure is well-intentioned and thoroughly researched. I read a summary of its findings over on Mumsnet. But the idea that day-time naps are harmful completely contradicts my personal experience. There's no way The Bean - 14 months old - could cope with a day lasting from 7am to 7pm without at least one nap. She'd be hysterical and grumpy.

This latest research into naps reminds me of last week's story that pureed food was bad for babies. What have we parents done to deserve so many scare stories that overturn so much received wisdom? Maybe the answer is that young (well, okay, I'm no spring chicken, nearly 40, so not that young) parents are a good target market for this material - you know, largely clueless, impressionable, desperate to do their best, lacking instruction manual or, indeed, clear instructions from the child herself. Ready to listen to anything that promises The Solution. Well, that's what I'm like, though in fairness I've gained a lot in confidence over the past months.

But it seems like the advice to parents changes all the time. This year's new parents are told to put baby to sleep on his back, scared witless by stories about what might happen if they don't. The previous generation was given exactly the same lines about how babies should sleep on their fronts, for the same reasons. In another ten years the 'experts' will doubtless change the advice again - but stick with the same dire warnings.

What really gets to me is that all these parenting gurus like to impart their advice with the message that if you don't follow it to the letter, disastrous consequences will ensue - with the pureed food research the authors said babies could get addicted to gloop, constipated and eventually obese. That surely can't be true, can it? In this instance, it's the threat of impaired mental performance. I don't know. Maybe they're right, and I'm stupid and cynical to suspect otherwise. What do other people think? Are we right to give our children day-time naps? Are we being preyed on by a parenting advisory industry?

Posted 29 June 2007 23:09 | Number of comments: 13 | Comments

Daughter Dilemmas Health Home Parenting gurus Play

PostingJob for life

Apparently if the typical stay-at-home mother were paid for her work, she'd earn the annual equivalent of £70,000, at least according to a set of so-called "compensation experts" based in the US. Unfortunately, the survey doesn't make clear who's going to fork out the moolah for all our hard work. Government? Husband? Children? Will our kids add this to their student loans? But still, it's nice to know we have some earning power left, even if it is mostly theoretical. I first read about this at Manic Mama.

My main objection to this survey, produced by Salary.com, is that I think they've missed quite a few important activities from their list of maternal roles, which falls far short of covering the full job spec. So I've listed a few additional roles they might want to consider next time they're doing the survey.

This is their list of jobs making up the £70,000 salary: 1. Housekeeper 2. Cook 3. Psychologist 4. Day care centre teacher 5. Laundry machine operator 6. Van driver 7. Facilities manager 8. Janitor 9. Computer operator 10. Chief executive officer (though try telling that one to Dad).

And here are the ones I think they missed. Apologies for some of them being so medieval. Please let me know your thoughts on any others that should be on the list.

1. Nightwatchperson   Okay, gone is the lantern or candle of yesteryear, replaced by more up-to-date equivalents, like the Tomy baby monitor. And it's more dressing gown than big caped cloak and boots. But there's still the same lonely, cold pacing around after midnight, to check that all's well, investigating cries in the night. And what about some extra money for unsociable hours, I'd like to know?

2. Dancer/Singer   Before having my daughter I considered myself a fairly shy and inhibited person, except when drunk. Now I never drink but will sing, dance and cavort almost anywhere if I reckon there's a chance it'll make my daughter stop crying. "Old McDonald had a farm, ey-ay-ey-ay-oh!!!"

3. PR Officer   "You'll never guess what our beautiful daughter did at nursery today! She pulled herself up to standing using just a shoebox for balance!" I almost have to stop myself from issuing a press release. And unlike many esteemed PRs, I actually, really, truly believe in how marvellous this all is....

4. Health and Safety Officer   Detaching Mr Bear's pink nightcap, lest my daughter swallow it, nagging long-suffering husband to nail bookshelves to the wall, covering sockets, hiding toilet cleaner, keeping daughter away from dishwasher and oven, begging kind neighbours not to paint their front door while we're around...

5. Journalist   I've filled notebooks with detailed accounts of my daughter's exploits that I plan to keep for posterity.

6. Nutritionist   Poor performance appraisal here. People brandish Annabel Karmel books at me all the time, and I do my best, but follow her recipes in vain. Actually, I spend ages agonising over my daughter's food intake, still currently limited to apple puree, porridge and bread sticks, because I know it can't be that healthy. Her dad persuaded her tonight to add banana, raspberries and raisins to the list, which she did grudgingly. Anything I cook is a big no-no. Last week I had my head in my hands at suppertime, crying, I felt such a failure for cooking up this food she instantly rejects. She throws it at me, or on the floor.

7. Speech therapist   Daughter: "Haahlaahla" Me: "That's brilliant! Let's say it again." Daughter: "Laaaaaaa" Abrupt stop. Me: "Look, the little monkey in the book is saying 'Hug'. Isn't that clever? Let's try and say 'Huuuuuuuug'." I could go on.

8. Stylist   It's not as easy as it looks to achieve that casually thrown together boho-chic look for the under-twos. Especially when the under-two in question is determined to shed socks, shoes and cardi wherever she can, before regurgitating Annabel's rejected gloop onto her top.

9. Entertainments Officer   Playgroup, nursery, "playdates" - urgh, terrible expression, park. It all takes organisation, you know, even if the babies and toddlers mostly ignore one another at these various social events, except to "borrow" each other's toys.

10. Nurse   Bathing gunky eyes in salt water, kissing scratches better, clearing up sick, administering Calpol. Oh, I forgot, nurses are like stay-at-home mothers, another largely disempowered social group, being (mainly) female carers on a low wage.

Posted 20 May 2007 20:11 | Number of comments: 8 | Comments

Daughter Food Husband Language Nursery Play Playgroup Safety Work

PostingLineage and legends

It's been a grim six days, just how grim I realised only yesterday, when I recognised the unfamiliar physical sensation spreading across my stomach as laughter, an experience that's been notable by its complete absence from my life since I had some bad news last Friday. As usual, it was only as things started to get better, well, slightly, at least, that  I got an inkling of how awful they've been.

Yesterday my husband, daughter and I were all waving at ourselves in a big mirror. Lest you think we're a bunch of self-obsessed narcissists, (well, we are, but we try not to indulge it) let me briefly explain: like many babies, my daughter loves to wave at her glassy, unreachable self in the mirror. She even, once, when very little, in what looks destined to be a stock family anecdote, crawled over to a mirror and tried to give herself a big kiss.

So we were in front of the mirror, my husband with his arm round me, my daughter in my arms, helping her practise waving.

"Here, stand in front of me," he told me, before assuming a stern, wooden demeanour. My head slotted in under his chin (he's much taller than me). Our daughter, snug in my arms, despite giggling madly, consented to tuck her head underneath mine. We made a straight vertical line of three heads.

"There we are," he told me proudly. "Our very own totem pole."

Posted 17 May 2007 09:28 | Number of comments: 0 | Comments

Daughter Home Husband Play

PostingHome working: 10 drawbacks

Much as I hate to use this dreadful terminology, I joined the ranks of 'WAHMs', or 'Work at Home Mums', when Katie reached ten months. Before that I was a full-time 'SAHM' (Stay at Home Mum), though I didn't even know it at the time - it's only since I got back to work and had a chance to waste time browsing the net I found out all these new terms. The first six months looking after Katie I didn't miss work at all. Then my friends starting going back to work, one by one, and I got lonely.

Often when I'm talking to people about my work (journalism), they say something encouraging about how it must be easy to do that from home, combining it with looking after the baby. Well, it's not.

In my experience, the reality is that homeworking is really only for people with iron self-discipline, who are motivated and well-organised and aware of the drawbacks as well as the benefits. I am not one of those people.

Listed below are some of the things to bear in mind if you're thinking of becoming a work-at-home-parent. Most are based on personal experience, some from talking with other parents who live, work, eat and sleep in the same small flat.

Today I've written about some of the disadvantages to being a 'WAHM'.

It's not all doom and gloom. There are very real upsides to working this way. Please visit the site tomorrow, to read about the benefits to young parents of working this way.



DRAWBACKS TO BEING A 'WAHM'

1. Don't be deceived into thinking you'll spend more time with your children this way.

You won't. You still have to organise proper childcare for them. Anything else, and you're shortchanging yourself, your clients and them.

2. Home-based childcare will make it impossible to focus on your work

If you choose home-based childcare (for example Granny or childminder coming to your home), you'll find it hard to knuckle down while your children are playing next door.

3. Sleepy head. Just had lunch? Feeling like a little nap?

I'll put my head down for ten minutes. Oops. The afternoon just slid away again. All those hours gone, taken up with what was meant to be a short snooze. And no work to show for it at the end.

4. You may think you're only working two days, but will your clients and contacts?

Once, an all-important contact I was chasing like mad at the start of the week called back unexpectedly a few days later at the nadir, nay, the very trough of my day - Katie's supper-time. Hard-nosed PRs will call any time of day or night if they think there's a plug in it for a client.

6. You get landed with most of the housework

I'm really lucky in that my husband more than pulls his weight around the house. But being at home all day, I still end up loading, unloading dishwashers, vacuuming, cleaning away dishes, wiping worktops, and doing the endless laundry. As soon as I've done it, it all needs doing again. And it's so very, very dull.

7. Lack of company

It's lonely, being at home on my own all day. Chatting to the postman and the old lady two doors down doesn't fill the gap. Even my husband starts winding up phone conversations after ten or 15 minutes. It's why I've turned to blogging. You start to fall behind professionally, as well, if you're not in offices where you can keep up with latest ways of doing things.

8. You've got to have real self-discipline to get through the work

Otherwise the lure of the biscuit tin will get me every time. I falter and stumble, but have to keep things together because I need the work.

9. I can't appreciate my home anymore, it's also my place of work

I spend too much time here. I notice every piece of dirt, every crumb. I need to go on holiday before I can enjoy where I live again. Home's stopped being a retreat.

10. It's hard to draw a line under the end of each day.

Is it obsessive-compulsive to check emails at midnight?

Posted 08 May 2007 12:18 | Number of comments: 2 | Comments

Daughter Food Granny Home Husband Play Pregnancy Work Home working

PostingToys give children "no long-term benefit", finds report

New research says toys and books have no significant future associations with children's development. According to the Institute of Education, reported by BBC Online, the most important factor is parents playing and talking with their children. Err... doh!

"Toys and books have their place and do help children develop but what is important is having the parents interact with the child," says the Institute's Dr Leslie Gutman.

This should be so obvious. How do people get grants to do this kind of research? Surely it just confirms what every parent already knows.

So much of the report's findings sounds like common sense.

"To have parents read to their children is much more important than having a hundred books," says the report. Well, yes. Kind of a no-brainer, surely?

Children whose parents took them out grew up with better social skills, said the report.

Again, not a hard one to figure out. 

But actually, on second thoughts, maybe this is useful research. In fact, I wish I'd known this a year ago, before I accumulated sacks of unwanted toys.

I bought them partly because I didn't want people to think I was a tightwad who wouldn't spend on her child.

The toy marketing made me think K would suffer impaired development if I didn't.

I mean, my goodness, not having the musical mobile that plays Bach, complete with cows circling in mid-air above, might have hindered her hand-eye co-ordination and slowed her speech development.

Yes, maybe this does have all sorts of useful applications. Perhaps Dr Gutman could circulate her research to health professionals. That might deal with my health visitor who was on about why we needed a baby "gym" to help with "infant stimulation".

Parents might have more spare space in their cupboards if Dr Gutman's research got a good airing. Charity shops would probably come off worse, though.

Actually, what the research proves is that I should have listened to my daughter. She's had the right idea for months.

She's far more interested in parental interaction than toys.

Her top-favourite thing right now is when I put a muslin over my head, pop my sunglasses on top of the cloth and do my Mrs Muzzlepops/Yasser Arafat impersonation.

Posted 03 May 2007 21:24 | Number of comments: 3 | Comments

Daughter Home Kit Play Toys

PostingPros and cons of nursery life

Having spent the last few days fuming at stories about greedy 'have-it-all' mothers repenting their wicked career-minded ways by shunning nurseries and staying home to look after their kids, here are some of my thoughts on the pros and cons of nurseries, based on personal experience.

PROS

Making switch from bottle to breast

It was nursery staff who first persuaded my daughter, then aged 10 months, to take a bottle, something I'd been trying for weeks, with no success. Since then she hasn't looked back. I was beginning to fear I'd be breastfeeding at the school gates. Thanks to that breakthrough, people have now stopped saying things like: "Did you see that programme on extraordinary breastfeeding?"

Healthy balanced diet

At home, K survives on a diet of porridge, apple puree and biscuits. Believe me, it's not for lack of trying on my part. I have my Annabel Karmel cookbook and I'm not afraid to use it. But I cook up spaghetti bolognaise, fish pasta and cauliflower cheese in vain. Even my old stand-by of sweet potato and chicken is out of favour. However, the nursery staff can get her to eat chicken papaya, no less. I've been asking for tips on how they do it.

Keener to walk

Don't know if peer group pressure is altogether a good thing, but it seems to me that since K has seen other children about her age, or a bit older, starting to toddle, she's keener to do the same.

CONS

These probably reflect my shortcomings as much as the nursery's, but here goes:

Separation anxiety (mine, not hers)

I haven't quite come to terms yet with my daughter being pushed around the streets of Edinburgh, in the nursery's three-seater buggies, by someone other than me. The thought I might bump into her "out a walk" at lunchtime is wierd.

She's comes home smelling of someone else's perfume.

Disconcerting. I get a bit jealous. But I also take this as a positive, since it means that she must be getting lots of cuddles.

The, err, commercial aspect of childcare...

A nursery worker burst into the baby room yesterday. "Okay, we don't have to do Edward Simmons and Jack McLeod today. They're on holiday till the 17th."

It's painful to be disabused of fantasy everyone loves K as much as me

A couple of the people who look after her at nursery are fond of her. Everyone else is well-disposed. Nobody, strangely, seems aware of how special and wonderful she is.

Picking up bad habits

No long after starting nursery K started sucking thoughtfully on pieces of toast, before allowing them to slither out her mouth and down onto her front, where they linger, transformed into repellant brown slugs. Could never prove it, but suspect it's a lark she first saw at nursery.



Hotbed of germs

Babies pick up every bug going as soon as they start at nursery.

You can't get the days or times you necessarily want

Which seems to contradict the story about all these empty nursery places left vacant by repentant nasty hard career women. In my experience, any decent nursery gets booked up months, even years, ahead.

Posted 02 May 2007 11:04 | Number of comments: 3 | Comments

Breastfeeding Daughter Nursery Play Pregnancy Work Edinburgh Food

PostingAdrift in a sea of gloop

Katy gazes at the sea of cold green pasta stretching out before her and turns to give me a look that seems to say: "You must be joking if you think I'm eating this". She looks worried, unsure she'll be able to prevail, that maternal force majeure will compel her to perform the hideous task of swallowing this nastiness down.

Katy prefers her food orange (sweet potato, carrot, squash all top favourites), or beige (apple puree, "pairritch") - and she's indicated in no uncertain terms that both are more palatable warm. She'll tolerate spaghetti bolognaise in small quantities or a pink Petit Filou. Avocado - both the wrong colour and temperature - is a no-no.

Inside the pasta sea small fluorescent monsters are swimming. One has a long black hair wrapped around a tentacle. My stomach turns. But another little baby grabs at the baby-sized serving spoon adrift in the pasta and pushes at it. The fun begins. Katy holds back a while longer, watches and then finally starts to copy, relief visible on her face that this is just another bit of grown-up silliness she can laugh along with at no cost to herself.

The Mucky Munchkins class works on the basis that they let babies smear themselves in as much pasta, gloop and non-toxic paint as they want, then someone else clears it all up afterwards. When they say mucky, they ain't lying. Next to the pasta is a washing-up bowl filled near the brim with what looks to be vomit - a substance I've had enough experience with already this week, thank you very much - again peopled with monsters. Mess is what we're here for, I have to keep reminding myself.

I've been trying to kid myself we're doing this entirely for Katy, but the truth is that after starting back to work two days a week or so in January I've been lonely and out of sorts on the days I do look after her. However little I have in common with the other mums here, Mucky Munchkins is at least some kind of landmark we can organise the day around, an escape from the long, formless slump of home life, with the promise of some adult conversation.

So here we are, Katy covered in yellow porridge in a room at the local library, me twittering nervously about whether she can eat the gloop in safety. We move on to finger paintings, with me encouraging Katy to daub cut-out shamrock (a nod to St Patrick's Day next week) and rainbow shapes.

Come the end of the class, I want to find the shapes she "painted" and pick up a rainbow that looks like it might have been hers. Another mother clears her throat. It's clear I'm about commit some solecism. It turns out to be the work of her offspring, or so she says. "We're taking that home to show Daddy, aren't we?" I'm no longer sure which painting is ours. Bless them, but the babies haven't yet discovered a distinctive style and one besmeared shamrock looks very much like another.

Briefly, I consider forgetting the paintings and keeping Katy's vest as our memento of the morning - installation art for infants, if you like - since it's got more paint on it than any of the paintings. Nah. Too bizarre. Then I spot a shamrock that looks like it might be ours. Phew.

The woman running the classes wants to take it from me to lay it out to dry with the others but after my run-in with the other mum I'm taking no chances and hug it to me protectively. This might not be top-end office politics, but on the mums-and-babies circuit you do get a few opportunities to stretch yourself. I wrap the shamrock, lopsided from undried lumps of orange paint, in a binliner and pop it in my rucksack.

Posted 09 March 2007 18:18 | Number of comments: 0 | Comments

Daughter Play Playgroup Work