School days

So it finally happened...

I remember, back in the haze of exhaustion of looking after a toddler and a baby, I foolishly calculated how long it would be before my boys were both at school.  It was a long time away; I must have been crazy to even think about it at the time.  I think sleep deprivation makes you go a bit bonkers.  Don't get me wrong, I love both my kids very much; but during the relentlessness that is parenthood with tiny ones, I briefly looked forward to the halcyon day when someone else would be responsible for them - if only for a portion of the time...

We're now over half way through Nathan's second week at school.  How did that happen?  The baby mentioned above is now a truly handsome four year old.  Astounding.

He's enjoying school.  I know it helps that he's been going to the school each day with Joel for longer than he can remember - in fact when Joel was in Reception, Nathan used to cry each morning because he wasn't allowed in!  Nathan also did his Pre-school year at the School's Nursery; so he's feeling pretty at home.  He knows about half of his class already; so I guess it's just like he moved room for him really.

It's going to take a while to build up the stamina for school though.  They're all a bit tired out by doing five full days.  According to their super-TA, one of them fell asleep yesterday afternoon during their story time.  Ah well, I can think of afternoons when I would happily do the same.

So, to my lovely friends still battling the baby / toddler phase.  It really does go faster than you think.  Enjoy your little ones.  Nathan's still little really; in comparison to Joel (he's 6 going on 36) - who's coming home full of details of the scientific experiments they've been doing, and asking me ever more difficult questions such as "why can't you see gravity?"...

Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think...

Let's look at the map

Last week, as it was half term, it seemed like a good idea to let Joel (and thus, all of us...) have a go at orienteering...

Paul (aka Daddy), really enjoyed orienteering at school, and at university - as it combines two of his great loves; running and maps.  Recently, Paul has done a few orienteering events with a local club - The Octavian Droobers - and having talked to Joel about it, he was really keen to have a go.

So, on Wednesday afternoon, we packed a picnic, put on our sporty clothes(!), and set off for some woods near Harbury.

I have to confess to being slightly dubious.  After all, I am really not built for running; I'm pretty terrible at it.  I'm also prone to turning the map round when navigating, much to the amusement of my husband...  Also, the event started at 6pm - which is always tea-time in our house...  I wondered if the changes to the usual routine and general exhaustion might be a recipe for disaster.  Not to mention wondering what would happen if the smallest boy just decided he couldn't go any further... 

We got there early, and thanks to some spectacular organisation (by the organisers...) we were actually able to start at 5:30pm...  Marvellous.

They gave us a map (see below...), and an electronic gizmo, and then we had to start at the triangle, and navigate ourselves round the course - using our clever gizmo to show we'd found all the control points.  (NB - for the uninitiated - these are red and white flags, with numbers to search for...  A genius plan if you're trying to get children like mine to find anything: 'Come on, who can find number 118??'  Very clever...)

My cunning plan was to all stay together, but let Paul and Joel run ahead a bit - which allowed Nathan and me the chance to catch up whilst they were navigating where we were going next.  Amazingly, this pretty much worked...  Although it required running - it was short sharp bursts of running, whilst encouraging Nathan along - the best sort of running.  Nathan did also require the occasional piggy back - whilst also had the additional feature of slowing Paul down.  Very useful.

We made it round in the respectable time of 30:36, which wasn't bad considering three out the four of us had never done anything like this before...  We were also pretty chuffed when we discovered our Result! (click on the link and find us if you can...)

We all felt we'd very much earned our picnic afterwards; although (naturally) Paul didn't eat anything until he'd gone out and completed a much longer and more difficult course...

So - all in all, we had a good time together out in the sunshine, with exercise, and maps, and a crash course in how to use a compass, and a picnic tea.  Can't be bad.  Worth trying if you fancy doing some running, but don't want to be bored...

Always look on the bright side of life?

This morning, my children got up - and having had a brief cuddle in bed with us - went downstairs to find something more interesting to do.  Halfway down the stairs, they paused, and looked out of the window.  This is the interchange I heard...:

Nathan: "Look Joel, it's a lovely day."
Joel: "But there's grey clouds, and it's been raining."
Nathan: "Look, it's a lovely day; it's not snowing!"
Joel: "Ahh. It doesn't look lovely to me; but you're right - it's not snowing..."

I love it when you get to overhear a bit of what goes on in your children's heads.  Especially when they don't know you're listening...

As I lay in bed, I mused about their differing perspectives on the same view. 

Nathan does seem to be a die-hard optimist.  I guess this is partially just down to being three, but not entirely.  His outlook on life does tend to be sunny.  He has a gift of being able to see the positive in things, as evidenced by the above conversation.  He's also very encouraging; last week at church, I was playing the guitar and leading the worship; we sang one of Nathan's favourite songs.  In the brief pause at the end, Nathan exclaimed (at classic 3 year-old volume - ie loud): "That was great Mummy, Well done!"

There's something great about receiving encouragement from someone too young to have learnt how to be economical with the truth... You know it must be genuine.

I think Nathan has probably got his positive and optimistic outlook on life from me.  All that celebrating small victories has rubbed off on him I guess.  I know I've said this many times before, but when you're parenting small children, you never know when the next big victory is going to come - it might be ages; so celebrating the little ones is vital for the mental health I think... "You put your socks on yourself!...HIGH FIVE!"

Joel is very much a realist.  He lives in the real world at all times; and at five - going on thirty-five - you can already trust his assessment of a situation to be reliable.  Joel lives in a very black and white world, and not just because he's colour blind...  He doesn't like uncertainty, or maybe, or possibly, or in a bit... He likes empirical, yes/no, and today we'll be leaving at 16:38  which means we'll be staying here for another 98 minutes.

This doesn't mean that he can't be encouraging; it just means that he'll do it in his own way - and entirely in line with his view of the world.  No exaggeration allowed...  This does mean that any positive comment from him carries even more weight.  On the day when I score 9.3 out of 10 for the evening meal that I cooked (you see - empirical!) like I did yesterday, I know that I really did do well...

I think there's a balance to be struck... Can you be an optimistic realist?  I think so.  I hope that I am...

And there's the thing: Hope.  Not some sort of airy fairy optimism that hasn't got any roots or substance, but hope, which can look down the barrel of the difficult thing - and hope anyway, knowing that all things are possible with God.  In a well known passage from 1 Corinthians 13 it says:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

I think God probably is an optimistic realist...  What do you think?

Curve-ball Questions and Winter Warmers

Yesterday I went on a school trip with Joel to Kenilworth Castle.  This was good fun, although it was exceedingly cold...  It was bitter, particularly in the morning when it was grey and blustery.  The sun did make a valiant attempt to break through later on though; unfortunately, by the time it had had any noticeable affect on the temperature - it was time to get back on the coach...  Oh well, that's life I suppose.

We had never been more appreciative of coats, hats, gloves, scarves and wellies. And for the flask of tea which I'd brought...  We huddled together for warmth like penguins.  Shivery doesn't cover it.

Part of the day was spent following 'English Heritage James' around different parts of the castle.  EHJ had an interesting job keeping the kids interested, but he did it well; asking the children to compare the rooms / ruins we were in, with their equivalent rooms / ruins at home.  The things that are obvious to adults aren't always the things children notice however - and this did lead to some slightly unusual questions and comments from the little darlings...:

"When is it lunch-time?" (When we'd just arrived...)
"If I was rich, I wouldn't have a picture of Samuel Pepys on my wall"
"Are you a doctor?"
Child: "Oak isn't wood" EHJ "Yes it is, it comes from oak trees" Child: "No it doesn't"
"Where are the horses now? Are they dead?"
"Did the princesses do any jousting?"
"I couldn't find any treacle balls..." (trebuchet - I think...)

EHJ coped manfully with the curve-balls he was thrown, considering the complete unpredictability of children and what they will ask...  The children left happy, having had a brilliant day.  To be honest, they were thrilled just by the coach ride there and back; so all the fun in-between was just a bonus.

Whilst looking out the window on the way home, we noticed a field of horses - also wearing their winter warmers...  They had quilted coats on.  You know it really is cold when the animals need clothes.  I was musing with a fellow mum that maybe the horses could have done with hats, gloves or maybe ear-muffs...  Oh how we laughed...

Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy

Last night we had an unwelcome and unexpected visitor...

To be honest, Joel had probably been carrying the little blighter around for a few days.  No, not head lice...   Worse; a vomiting bug.  Marvellous.

I was a bit surprised, as often you do have a clue when your kids are going to be ill.  They're a bit grumpy / badly behaved / off their food / just not right...  None of this happened yesterday; Joel was on good form.  Sadly, that wasn't much consolation when I was helping to catch (maybe) the 14th lot of vomit at four in the morning...  I had actually lost count by then, and so had Joel...  He must have been ill...

So today, Joel didn't go to school.  He's actually been surprisingly perky, and although not eating completely normally, he seems well on the way to recovery.

I wish I could say the same for me.

One night of rubbish sleep, and I'm a wreck.  Where did my stamina go?  Actually, in my defence Joel probably slept better than I did; as he went straight back to sleep each time, where as I just lay there waiting and listening for the next installment (I know, lovely this isn't it...)

The thing is, back when my children were tiny - I remember feeling fabulous (OK, pretty great - mustn't exaggerate too much...) if I could just get four hours sleep together. Despite the fact that the sleep deprivation phase just seemed to last forever.  I also remember wondering if I would actually ever sleep a whole night through again - it just seemed so unlikely.  I was wildly jealous of the people getting full nights of sleep, who weren't appreciating it...  It just seemed so unfair, that as the tiredest person in the world (sleep deprivation obviously leaves you entirely rational) I was getting the least amount of sleep...

In my time as a midwife I lost count of the number of times I reminded people that sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture, and that it wasn't surprising that they felt pretty shoddy.  I know, I was a little ray of sunshine, wasn't I?!  (In my defence, I was probably trying to explain to them that they were experiencing normal motherhood, and that there wasn't something terribly wrong with their little bundle of joy...  Midwives should all carry a neon sign that says: "Yes, it's normal", because it normally is!)  Still, having had two babies of my own, I truly empathise with the long term sleep deprived mother...  It does get better. 

So now, predictably, I am going to have a nice bath, and go to bed, hoping that I get to stay there; and that there's no more vomit in my house (or anywhere else in my life for that matter) for at least a month.  Optimistic or foolishly unrealistic? 

Ah well, wish me luck.

Sweet dreams xx

Normal? I'm sure I've heard of that...

This week one of the lovely ladies at nursery asked me if she could 'have a word'.  I don't know what it is about such an innocuous sentence that gives every parent the heebie-jeebies...  Maybe it harks back to memories of your own childhood discipline; or maybe something you heard once from a doctor with less than positive news.  Whatever it is, I certainly felt a bit apprehensive as I waited for all the other parents to collect their little cherubs...

It turned out that she had some concerns about Nathan's concentration, and just wanted to know how he was at home.  I told her the truth, that I wasn't wildly concerned about it, because he is quite capable of concentrating when he feels like it - provided of course that he's not exhausted, hungry, or distracted by something else...  I'm aware that he spends more time with his head in the clouds than his elder brother (Joel 'always-in-the-real-world' Taylor), but comparing any child to Joel is a recipe for disaster, so I never do.  I always assume Nathan is normal unless someone tells me otherwise.

It made me think again about how no child (and no-one actually) is 'normal', because we're all so different.  We all have things we find easy, and things we find difficult.  I find it helpful to always remember this, and it's something I've spent a fair bit of time talking to Joel about.  Joel is fabulous in a lot of ways, but one of my favourite things about him is how honestly and generously he praises others, even if they have done something that he himself could have done really easily.

Joel's reception teacher once told me about how once in class, he was trying to get one of his class mates to add 35 and 65.  Quickly realising that this was too difficult, he changed the sum to 5 + 5, then helped them to complete the sum, and then celebrated their achievement.  His teacher was almost as thrilled as me.

I think Nathan will probably always be one of those kids with a slight tendency to gaze out the window...
I always took that as a sign of a good imagination, something Nathan has in abundance.  He might not be 'average'... but who'd choose average anyway?  He's brilliant.

Shepherd No. 1 - part 2

So here it is...

I can't believe Joel was the only 'Sainsbury's Shepherd'...  I thought they might all be wearing matching outfits!

Joel is the superstar stripy singing shepherd.  All that singing at church, and doing singstar with Aunty Sharon has obviously stood him in good stead!

I am so very proud of him.  But be proud of me reader, I clapped and cheered, but I didn't sob!

However, I still have Nathan's play to get through next week.  Who knows - the tissues may yet be required...

Shepherd no. 1

Christmas play season approaches... 

In Joel's class they've been learning songs for their Christmas play since they went back to school after half term, so it's not surprising that a small slip of paper came home with Joel this week.

On this small piece of paper were the four short lines that Joel (aka Shepherd no. 1) has to learn for the play.  This shouldn't be a problem for the boy who could tell you how long any given person from pretty much any series of Total Wipeout took to complete the Qualifier (Knock out Chris? Well, that would be 1 minute 10...)  Memory is one of Joel's strong suits.

The only slightly disconcerting element was found in the final sentence, asking me to provide a costume for the Shepherd, which needs to be in school by the end of the month.

How do you dress a Shepherd??  Last year I think I had it very easy actually, as Joel was a narrator - and just had to wear uniform.  I know the classic nativity shepherd attire would be a dressing gown, probably with tea-towel head gear; but Joel doesn't even have a dressing gown (I know - such neglect...  Well actually, he's always boiling - so he'd never wear one anyway.)  I'm not sure he's going to go for the whole tea-towel thing either.  Joel's never really liked dressing up anyway...

So - any ideas?  Particularly ideas that don't involve sewing prowess. 

All I need now is for Nathan's nursery play to also need a costume of even greater difficulty - like being the donkey!  There is no job in the world that requires as complex a skill mix as Motherhood.

Just the way you are

This week I took the boys to the opticians for a routine check up.  I wasn't expecting there to be any major problems - I was certain that they wouldn't be needing glasses.  I was slightly suspicious that Joel might be colour blind (or colour restricted...  I know, very PC) as he's always had trouble discerning some colours, especially the paler ones. 

The test was done very sensitively by the optician, who gave him the first 'Ishihara plate' to look at, (Have you seen these before? They are pictures with coloured dots on, with different colours making pathways, or sometimes numbers on them)  which was done purely on contrast - so at least he understood what he was trying to do.  However, when he got onto the actual test, he couldn't see any differences at all in the colours there, he looked quite blank really.  It was so odd to see him flounder like that, and heart-wrenching too - especially when he later had to sit through his brother completing the same tasks with minimal effort.

Joel is a very able child, and I think this will have been a new experience for him.  He so rarely struggles to complete the tasks put before him.  The optician was great at explaining to him (and to me) that it wasn't anything he was doing wrong - it was just that his eyes weren't set up to see as many different colours as some other people's.  It also shed light on the fact that Joel has always claimed his favourite colour to be brown - which I always thought was an unusual choice for a small child (although I guess chocolate is brown...)  It turns out that Joel sees the world in various shades of brown - so I guess it's good that he likes it...

I'm still thinking through the implications of this.  It feels weird to me that Joel might have some restrictions on his career choice, when he's always been able to do anything he put his mind towards.  I know that we will just have to deal with any issues as they arise.

I was so proud of Joel.  We left the opticians with him saying: 'So if I can't tell if something's yellow or pale green, I can ask Nathan and he can tell me'.  I love the fact that he was already solving the potential problem, and also that he was starting to handle the fact that his little brother could do something that he couldn't manage.  I suppose the earlier we understand that some people find some things easier or harder than us, and that's OK, the better life is for everyone.  I think Joel understands this more than the average five year old anyway.

It also gave me the chance to tell Joel that I love him, just the way he is.  That I believe God made his eyes (and all of him) just the way He wants them to be.  I've since found out that colour blind people often have very good night vision, as they're so used to seeing things only with contrast...  Maybe he'll be some kind of superhero...

A tale of two instruments

At the end of the last half term, Joel had to make a musical instrument.  This was homework; the instrument could be anything - but it needed to be ready for the last day of the half term, when they'd use them all for making a piece of music.  This Magnum opus was to sound like a rain storm...

We started work in plenty of time.  Joel had decided that he wanted to make a guitar.  I had found a tissue box, and the ubiquitous elastic bands.  It was all going so well...

There was nothing in the brief about making the instrument look beautiful.  But with the time available, I decided (yes reader, I brought this entirely on myself, Joel was not bothered either way) that decorating the tissue box would be a good idea.  We set to it, cutting and sticking an array of different coloured paper all over the box.  It was beautiful.  However, it had already set us on the road to disaster...

I'm quite practical - or so I like to think - especially 'for a girl'...  However, I had not foreseen the effect that the gluing would have of the structural integrity of the tissue box.  Once the box was dry, it had warped beyond all recognition.  Joel was not amused.  It looked (and more to the point, sounded) pretty rubbish - which to all intents and purposes is exactly what it was.  Our failure was only compounded by seeing one of Joel's friend's attempts at a guitar; complete with correctly shaped body, neck, frets - the whole caboodle.

There was nothing to be done; we had to make something else.

I found the mouth piece from a party blower, a cardboard tube and a plastic pot; and left Joel and his Daddy to assemble a 'clarinet'.  I was already feeling chastened by my previous attempt, and to be honest I knew that with minimal time to spare (the rain storm concert was the next day), the instrument was more likely to be structurally sound if built by the engineer in the family...  I restricted myself to cutting the desired lengths of sticky tape.

And thus Joel went to school the next morning with an instrument that he loved.  Not because it was pretty, but because it actually worked.  He later told me that there had been endless shakers, guitars, drums etc. but his had been the only wind instrument in the building...  At least I can claim to have been the brains behind the operation, and the best sticky tape dispenser in Warwickshire!

Reasons to be Cheerful - 1,2,3...



I live with two of the most brilliant comedians in Rugby, or maybe even England.  The thing is - they are my children, and sometimes they're not aware of how funny they are.  I love the fact that they make me laugh every single day, and here are some of the reasons why:

1. Joel playing the guitar (attempting flamenco music!) - talking to Nathan playing the ukulele: "That's not rock music - that's just LOUD!"
2. Nathan's occasional mis-pronunciation of words: "Come on Mrs Harrington" (See previous post - Words)
3. In the garden recently - Joel comes running - "Mummy, Mummy - I've found a spider - his name is Henry!"
4. The way Nathan will not come and brush his teeth if you ask him too, but if you go into the bathroom without him, and start saying "Where's my Nathan - I can't find him - He must have gone missing" etc. He'll come running...
5. The way neither of the boys have realised the fact that the nightly 'Pyjama Race' isn't an exciting competition, it's just a cunning ruse to get them ready for bed.
6. The sound of them laughing
7. The stick game - How many sticks can you find to put in the green bin?  Current record: 164 (Otherwise known as a cunning plan to tidy up the garden...  I know, parenting requires an awful lot of cunning!)  This may turn into the leaf game over the next few months...
8. The simple joy of jumping - it just makes Nathan so happy. ("I'm jumping on the kitchen!"...)
9. Sweet Caroline (see previous post...)
10. Joel and Nathan's never ending encouragement - there's nothing more brilliant than being told you're doing well by someone too young to fudge the truth...

Sweet Caroline

Those of you who know me well, know the truth about me.  I'm not a lean, mean, cycling machine; more like a wobbly, knobbly, cuddly mummy.  I feel I need to start with this fact - as I'm going to talk about going cycling - again.  I've confessed in a previous post (See 'I want to ride my bicycle') to being pleased about having finally found a form of exercise I enjoy; but to be honest - the main motivation has been having Joel master cycling over the summer holidays, and him wanting to practice his new found skill.

We went out today, on a mission to cycle round Draycote Water.  This is a local reservoir (the same one mentioned in 'One to One time') which is about five miles round.  This time we took a picnic (vital fuel for the intrepid adventurers), but we also took our new piece of cycling kit.

Our friends, the lovely Diane and Aaron, had passed onto us a tag-along bicycle attachment their sons no longer need.  This adds an extra seat, pedals, handle-bars and a third wheel to my bike, making it really quite long.  It opens up the possibility of cycling together as a whole family, as Nathan's only just mastered pedalling, and doesn't yet have the stamina to keep up with the longer legged members of the family.

I have to admit to being a little dubious.  Nathan is a wiggly child, and I wasn't sure he was going to be able to sit still, let alone for long enough for us to get around the reservoir.  So I decided to have a little chat with him about it before we set off.

We stood together looking out the back door, watching Paul assembling the tag-along.  He listened as I explained which bit was Mummy's seat, which was Nathan's seat, where he would hold on etc. etc.  I asked if that sounded OK to him.  He thought for a couple of seconds with his serious face on, and then replied that he was happy to go for a ride on Caroline.

Caroline?

I checked that he understood.  I know that Caroline is the name of a car in Thomas the Tank Engine stories, so I wanted to be sure that he understood that we wouldn't be driving round the reservoir...

He understood completely, he had just named the tag-along! 

And so it came to pass that we gained a member of the family.  I then had tantrums to deal with as both Joel and Nathan couldn't ride on Caroline at the same time.  In fact, one of us will probably have to take Joel out on it (sorry, her) later in order to keep the peace.

Our trip around Draycote Water was a storming success.  Joel managed to cycle all the way round.  So did Paul & I, and Nathan and Caroline were a beautiful, if slightly wobbly couple.  A picnic lunch had never tasted so good.

If I do manage to get fit, it won't be down to my efforts or discipline; it will be down to the boys harassing me for rides on Caroline... :)

Dance like a kid

I was feeling a bit glum earlier on having heard some sad news...  (Nothing major - so don't panic!)

It was then that I heard some exceedingly raucous laughter coming from my lounge.  Both my children have brilliant laughs - especially when they're uninhibited, and not being watched - It's one of the best sounds in the world.  I walk in, to discover the boys are having a silly dancing competition - taking turns to dance, and being awarded points for their efforts.  They are laughing and laughing - and (for once) it actually doesn't matter who has the most points.

Then the inevitable happens.  Nathan loses interest, and so Joel asks me to take Nathan's turn.  Well, what could I do? 

I give it my best shot.  Somewhere between the twist and the hand jive, with bonus points for pulling a silly face at the same time.  These things are less embarrassing if you throw yourself in whole-heartedly.  In fact, I discover that I'm really quite good at it.  So good that Nathan decides to join in - and so Joel gives us the best score so far: 9 out of 10...  Bruno Tonioni would be proud. 

And actually, I guess I win really.  As there's no room for being sad when you're dancing like a kid.  I think I knew this before - but sometimes you just need the encouragement to give it a try.  Go on, I dare you.
As Chris and Pui would say: "Show me show me your groovy moves!"

One to one time...

The sun shone today (hoorah!), and so the boys and I took the chance to go cycling at a local reservoir.  Joel (son number 1 - aged 5) and I set off together, leaving Nathan (aged 3) to pootle along at a slower pace, with Daddy for company.

We managed about 3 miles all in all, which I thought was quite impressive.  Maybe another day, with a bit more planning, and a lot more food, we'll actually make it the whole way round.

I realised whilst we were out, how little time I spend one to one with Joel, and it got me wondering how common our approach is.  When Joel was small, it took both of us to look after him; although there were certain vital functions only I was equipped for.  Then when Nathan came along, we tended to aim to divide and conquer - I tackled the baby, Paul tackled the toddler - after all, Joel wanted as much daddy-time as possible, and I was still feeding Nathan, so the roles were pretty obvious.  We've pretty much kept things this way round though; me looking after Nathan, Joel with his Daddy; I guess the system wasn't broken, so we never tried to fix it.  After all, there are many times when we (particularly me) look after both the boys.

The thing is, now Nathan's old enough to be keen on Daddy time too.  In fact, he's quite a man's man.  If there's one solitary Dad at a park or soft play centre, he'll seek him out for a bit of manly interaction.  He likes to chat and pass the time with any man who'll listen to him.

Today made me realise how important it is to swap our natural roles around occasionally.  Joel and I cycled further than we ever could have done with Nathan in tow.  We also chatted about school, his friends, the universe and everything really.  Nathan got some well deserved Daddy time too, and I'm certain he will have loved it. 

Difficult though it can be; I'm sure it's worth blocking in some one to one time with our children.  I think it might be the thing that helps me get to know them best.  What do you think?

Wobbly Tooth

Sometimes the smallest things can be the most profound...

My son Joel is five, and he has recently discovered his first wobbly tooth.  To him, this is exciting; a chance to ponder tooth fairies and what he might do with the coin that might appear under his pillow.

I was surprised to find that this small piece of news made me feel a bit emotional.  After all, I expected this to happen reasonably soon - Joel got his teeth early, so I'd always thought he'd lose them on the early side too. 

The thing that got me was the fact that it's a whole new developmental stage.  It's like a line in the sand, or any other transition I suppose.  My son is not a baby anymore.  Actually - anyone who knows him, knows that he hasn't been a baby for a long time.  Maybe it's just that it feels like the end of something.  Time has passed, and it's weird to think that your children are only small for such a short time, particularly as when you're in the middle of it, the small child phase feels never-ending because it is so all consuming.

Also, I think, it's time to celebrate.  I've nurtured Joel for six years (if you count the nine months I carried him!) and he's growing up well and doing everything he should be.  It's good to step back occasionally, and realise that time is running by.  Carpe Diem everyone; seize the day.

Food is not 'bad'

Am I the only person worried by how much schools are pushing 'healthy' eating? 

My elder son Joel has just finished his first year at primary school, and during that time he's learnt a lot about all sorts of things.  He's loved school, which of course is great.  His school have helped him settle in, and generally been brilliant; so I don't want this to sound like a disgruntled parent rant...

Don't misunderstand me - I'm all for children eating healthily.  My children have a pretty good diet, plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, sensible-ish amounts of protein, carbs etc etc.  Not too many sweets.  Even the odd bit of oily fish.  They aren't over-weight and their teeth aren't falling out.  All in all, they're a picture of health and energy - they're certainly active enough to be exhausting me over the summer holidays!

The thing is, Joel now regularly reads packaging on food and tells me how many calories there are in each portion, or how much fat they contain.  He asks me if they have too much salt, or too much sugar.  And I guess all of that is fair enough; what bothers me is how each food has been given the label of 'heathy' or 'unhealthy', 'good' or 'bad'. 

Joel recently told me that chocolate was unhealthy, which personally - I thought was a major disaster!  Not to mention a gross over simplification...  Chocolate has actually been shown to be good for all sorts of things. 

I don't think there are many foods that could truly carry the label 'bad', and I guess they'd be the ones full of artificial additives and things which when given to children, you knew that within 20 minutes you'd be scraping them off the ceiling. 

I think talking about how much your body needs of something, rather than whether it is good or bad has got to be the more sensible approach, especially where children are concerned.  Children are so impressionable, and at this early stage words from teachers are taken as gospel truth.  I think labelling any food as bad is potentially dangerous too, given that so many younger and younger children are considering dieting, and the rates of eating disorders in children and young teenagers are higher than ever.

Food is GOOD

The boys and I have just made a chocolate cake - we just won't eat it all today...