Soft play session: Sonny Jim and pal
I’ve been pretty good at avoiding soft play. Particularly – and especially – during school holidays.
But the other week, I capitulated. And Dante’s circles of hell have nothing on these padded-cell like death traps as far as I’m concerned.
I understand to the uninitiated, this probably seems unreasonable. What could be better for parents than indoor wonder worlds of mazes, slides and ball pits? So, consider this my attempt to enlighten you. Here’s exactly why I hate soft play centres…
1 Other people’s kids: You’d think no parent would want to be the one with feral kids. You’d think wrong on this. I don’t know what happens, but when kids get inside these centres they turn faster than a Mogwai in rain. Continue reading
“A good fireman is never off duty!” Sam has all the lines
Prior to having a toddler, clearly, I was never going to let any baby of mine watch children’s television.
But, well, real life happens doesn’t it? And sometimes the only way you’re going to be able to cook dinner / put a wash on / have a wee is to stick the television on.
And so, it has transpired that Sonny Jim has fallen under the spell of Fireman Sam.
And I have questions. Questions that our daily dose of Pontypandy life is not answering. Questions that I can’t be the only parent watching their gazillionth episode (I might be exaggerating a bit, but you get the idea) is asking themselves.
So, to get them off my chest, and in the spirit of solidarity with other Sam addicts, and hopefully, to stop me fruitlessly asking my agog toddler, here are some of the most pressing… Continue reading
Yum, yum: ‘That snail is not a snack, Sonny!’
Do you ever hear yourself say something, and then have to laugh at the ridiculousness of what has just come out of your mouth?
I’ve found having a toddler, this happens more often than the pre-child me could ever have imagined possible.
I was pottering a bit in the garden the other day, with Sonny Jim. The weather has been so blooming dire that as soon as even the smallest ray of sunshine can be seen, I bung his wellies on and we’re outside.
Anyway, all was well, until I heard the unmistakable “yum, yum, yum” coming from my two-year-old. Continue reading
Post-tantrum: Sad times
It’s Sonny Jim’s birthday next week… but he’s made a bit of an early start on the terrible twos.
The tantrums and the oh-so-dramatic tears would actually be pretty funny if, a) they weren’t so loud and b) it wasn’t my child doing it.
I know I’m not the only mama who is trying to navigate their way through their days without triggering a scene that would leave the Hunk looking like a calm and rational being.
So, in the spirit of solidarity, here are some of the reasons my child has cried this week…
- The washing machine stopped
- I wouldn’t turn the street lights on
- I gave him his lunch (he wanted his lunch)
- I didn’t let him stand in dog poo
- The washing basket didn’t fit in the washing machine
Little fan: Sonny Jim seems to approve of my new Cambridge Satchel Company number
Sonny Jim is only a few months away from turning two – and my changing bag is even closer to reaching that milestone.
I bought it when my due date was looming and I had no idea of what I would actually need in a changing bag, but I liked the fact it didn’t look too mumsy, was leather and it had decent straps.
And in fairness, my Mothercare number has more than delivered. It’s seen me through the newborn days, epic walks with a tiny tot who would only sleep in the buggy. Trips to the beach. Picnics. Our first family holiday. Leaking bottles. Forgotten bananas. Poonami nappies.
It’s only now that the inside sections have ripped that I’m kind of over it. And I didn’t really want to go buying another “changing” bag, when the amount of gear I need to cart around for Sonny Jim isn’t really in the newborn baby league anymore. Especially now he’s got his own (super cute bumblebee!) rucksack/reins for his snacks.
So, I needed a new bag. A less mummy, more me bag. But that would still be able to fit a few nappies, a beaker, an emergency toddler vest/trousers in. It needed to be practical. But stylish. And good quality. Something classic. But not boring. And a decent size.
And, this was when I discovered the Cambridge Satchel Company (www.cambridgesatchel.com)
Elf life: Sonny Jim and his little buddy
Eeek! It’s almost Christmas!
I’ve always loved this time of year. The anticipation, the festive songs on the radio, the way a few sparkly lights can brighten up even the darkest of corners. The fact it’s acceptable – encouraged even – to drink Prosecco at lunchtime.
When my now husband proposed, on a sunny beach in Corsica, I had no doubt I wanted a Christmas wedding. And when we did tie the knot, on winter solstice in 2009, we had our own bit of Christmas magic… it snowed!
For years, the only thing on my real Christmas wish list was a baby. Now, this year will be my boy’s second Christmas. And it’s unlike any that have gone before.
Last year, Sonny Jim wasn’t crawling. Or chatting. Or doing much else, other than looking like quite possibly the cutest Christmas pudding ever (honestly, he’s going to hate the photos when he’s big!) Continue reading
Little sleep thief: Imagine being this happy before 5am!
Honestly, I had parenting absolutely nailed… until I actually had a baby.
I don’t think I’m alone in this. I think most of us have pretty clear ideas of what we’d do as a mummy or daddy. What we would allow. What our child will and won’t do.
Which is great, until you realise that your child totally didn’t get the memo.
Here are some of my pre-Sonny Jim parenting fallacies:
* The baby won’t be sleeping in our bed.
Yep. That worked really well until he was poorly. Until he started waking up at 4am. Until he started staying awake for hours in the middle of the night. Now, at least part of the night is often spent with a tiny, wriggly third wheel in our bed. It’s that or we just don’t sleep for nights on end. And, quite frankly, I need sleep. Continue reading