Posts Tagged "family"
Guest Post – Response to ‘Touch’
I have a guest post for you tonight. Its author emailed me yesterday asking if I’d consider publishing this as a way for her to tell her story anonymously. Of course I said yes.
I’d love if you could give this honest and brave piece of writing the attention and support it deserves. Josie. x
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“I’ve written this in response to your beautiful blog piece, Touch, just a few of the words and thoughts that spill through my mind.
Never judge a book by its cover, or so they say, but we do. We judge frequently, make snap assumptions, always thinking we know best, so let me tell you a story. When I was 8 my father committed suicide, he shot himself, at home with a rifle, whilst my sister & I were there. He & my mum were getting divorced, he decided it was his only way out, so what happened? Well naturally, people judged. They banned their children from playing with us, they would cross the street to avoid talking to us. My poor mother took an almighty amount of crap from people judging her, that evil woman who had driven her husband to suicide. But you see, what they didn’t know was that my father suffered terribly from mental illness. He would be high as a kite one minute, dark & brutal the next. He drank bottles & bottles of whiskey when down and when he was up he would race fast cars, motorbikes and shag endless streams of women. In this day & age, knowing what we do, my father would probably be diagnosed as bi-polar, given suitable drugs and his life may have been extremely different. Possibly. My mum, fell out of love with him, he was too much to deal with, too crazy in a house of young children, she fell in love with another (wonderful) man, that was her crime.
Read MoreThe In-between Bit
So here we are. In this post-Christmas, pre-New Year inbetween bit which I think should have a special name but I can’t think of one. Possibly Leftovers Week, or Tripping-Over-Piles-of-Presents Week, or Kai-Will-Not-Stop-Screaming-Unless-Thomas-Is-On Week. Yes, one of them. Only wittier.
How was yours then? Cause mine pretty much rocked. I’m serious – this has been the best Christmas ever. You know ever so often the planets just seem to align for a moment in a mystical combination that means no one gets ill and nothing gets broken and Kai sleeps through the night for five nights out of seven (oh YES!) and everything, just for a moment, is perfect? It’s been one of THOSE Christmases.
I have lived off delicious food served by lovely people that I didn’t have to make. I have had frequent, long naps. I have received new books and things to make me beautiful and TWO pairs of slippers. I have eaten more Christmas meats than should probably be legal.
And most importantly, I got to see my boy’s face look like this:
and this…
and this…
and THIS…
Needless to say he’s had a brilliant time. He found the present opening bit slightly overwhelming though it has to be said. Because in the toddler mind it of course goes:
“Oooh look a present! I shall unwrap it – I am good at that. HOLY FRICK IT’S A TRAIN!!!! *uncontrollable excitement* I must play with it IMMEDIATELY! Get it out the box dad get it out the box dad get it out the box dad… oh this is amazing. What? Another present? But I’m playing with this one! Give me half an hour or so to gaze at it adoringly and I’ll be right with you…”
After three or four of these he was almost catatonic with the sheer wonder of it all and had to go and have a little lie down for a bit. (In his nap castle… did I tell you he had a NAP CASTLE?! That I can fit in?!!!)
And of course there was the digger. The real life oh-my-god-I-think-I-just-pooed-my-nappy-I’m-so-excited digger.
We’re still going. There are presents to unwrap today, and probably tomorrow too. I have never known such a lucky little boy – thank you so much to all of you that made it so special for him (and by association, so special for me).
We have another busy couple of days ahead of family, food, fun and other things beginning with F. Festivity? Frankincense? Who knows…
I hope you’ve all had a wonderful Christmas and are now nicely fat and jolly from mince pie eating and general festive cheer.
See you in a few days xx
Read MoreGagging Not Choking
I survey the carnage.
I have been cooking. With three cupboards, an oven that doesn’t work properly and one work surface measuring less than half a metre wide, preparing food becomes a complicated dance of pirouetting, rearranging and balancing, with a few swear words thrown in for good measure, and giving everything at least 10 minutes longer to cook than it should.
The dishes are piled high in the sink, with me somehow managing to use every utensil I own just to cook chicken and rice. I have spilled sauce on the hob and on me and may have inadvertently ‘lost’ some onion down the side of the cooker. You know nothing ok? We’ll just pretend that didn’t happen (or that I dropped some pasta down there yesterday).
But, I’m done. And nothing is burnt. Bonus.
I stick my head round the door of the front room where Kai and his dad are zoned out in front of Gigglebiz – ‘Little Britain for toddlers’ my hubby has described it as. Spot on. “Kai, do you want some food?” I ask while doing our ‘food’ sign that Kai’s just beginning to start to copy “It’s time for tea!”. “Yeah Yeah!” shouts Kai jumping up.
Wrestled into his highchair Kai is soon tucking in with gusto to his rice and chicken. He grabs his fork for good measure and gives a few half-hearted stabs but it is soon forgotten in favour for great big fist-fulls alternated with delicate pincer-grip motions, picking up tiny grains one by one and examining them before down they go with a enthusiastic lip smack. Big bits of chicken are chewed and quickly devoured. Water is quaffed and waved about and dripped onto the high chair tray to make patterns with. When interest starts to wane, daddy steps in with the forgotten fork and I watch as they share their special mealtime game of ‘one for me one for you’, amazed that Kai is finally letting us near him with utensils after months of refusing to eat anything off a fork or spoon except Kai ambrosia (yoghurt) and that only because hands just don’t get enough in quick enough.
I love mealtimes.
They are my favourite part of the day. Ant is home from work, bedtime is fast approaching and ensconced in his highchair with a big plate of food before him Kai is (usually!) at his most charming and entertaining. Mouthfuls for him are usually alternated with tidbits offered to daddy and me, and sometimes the cat for good measure. He sings, he chews his way through enough food to feed a small army, he pulls glorious and comical faces as he tries and assesses new tastes and at least half the offered food ends up on his lap, in his hair or on the floor.
It is glorious.
At not-quite fifteen months old I have to say that I think eating is one of Kai’s party pieces. The way he gets through a meal is usually enough to stop most people in their tracks, and make them smile and comment especially when they realise how old he is – an age when a lot of his peers are still only just being weaned of mush and onto ‘grown-up’ food.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am far from proud or sure of many things I have done as a mother. But Kai’s weaning is one thing I think I’ve done rather well. In fact, both Ant and I are in complete agreement – weaning Kai the way we did was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made as parents. I talked a little about it previously, but the long and short of it is this:
We held off weaning until Kai turned six months old, despite everyone’s abject horror and insistence that we were starving the poor child. And then we did something that everyone thought was completely mad (and by everyone I mean my mother – come on mum I know you’ll admit it). We didn’t give him pureed baby food, we just gave him big chunks of proper food to pick up and gnaw on himself. He could choose what to eat or not to eat and how much. And if he didn’t want anything at all that was fine too. It’s known as ‘Baby-Led Weaning’ but personally I think it should just be called ‘common sense weaning’.
“But he’ll choke!!” was the first objection. Well actually, no. He didn’t choke. He did gag a lot to start with which everyone PRESUMED was choking, but look – he’s just coughing and learning to move food around in his mouth and not bite off quite such a big bit next time. And he’s already tucking into the next piece. It upset everyone else far more than it upset Kai… Gagging is a natural and pretty essential reflex if you’re going to learn how to eat safely.
“But he’s not really eating anything!!” was the next concern. OK – granted, not an awful lot got ‘consumed’ as it were in the first few weeks of weaning (although the first time it did the resulting nappy was a shocker I can tell you!) In fact, not really till Kai hit about 10 months old did he start eating consistently. But look again. This boy is hovering above the 75% percentile on his growth charts and I’d done my research – milk, breast milk especially will meet up to something stupid like 98% of his nutritional needs for the first year, and still provide the vast majority well into his second year. So there was no rush. Exploring tastes and textures were always the priority to start with – if in doubt I just kept repeating the mantra “Food under 1 is just for fun”. It worked – just look at him now.
“But he’ll be a picky eater if you let him choose what to eat – he won’t eat the right things!!” I never really got this argument. He has tastes, of course he does, and preferences same as anyone else. He still thinks broccoli is the devil’s fare no matter how many times I offer it him. He loves sweet things, but will choose fruit over a biscuit any day. Strawberries don’t even touch the sides. Some things (like potato) he took a long time to warm too but now are his favourites. Other things, like carrot, he seems to go through phases of liking. One thing I have noticed that if offered a good variety of foods, over the course of a week Kai will usually eat a good balance of protein, carbs, diary and fruit and veg. 
But not all in one meal – sometimes all he’ll want to eat is pasta, or cucumber. But the next day you can guarantee will be a ‘chicken day’. I’m working on the assumption that somehow, intrinsically, he knows what he’s doing.
“But you’re encouraging him to play with his food – what about table manners?!”. That’s for next year. At the moment we’re all about the fun. Babies wash. Floors wash. We wash. It’s not a big deal. Flinging didn’t last long and once Kai learnt what ‘no’ meant it got short shrift from us. But if you want to draw patterns in your spaghetti and smear Shepherd’s Pie in your hair? We’re ok with that.
Now, 8 months after starting on our weaning adventures, not one person questions our decision. The results speak for themselves. My dad is evangelising baby-led weaning to the girls in his office, my mum is humbly proclaiming that she has ‘learnt a lot’, and the mother-in-law is glowing with pride.
So there we go. One big success story. Nice to share one of them for a change!
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This post was written for the Carnival of Eating over at Tired Mummy’s Blog – please pop over and lend it your support.
And If you want to learn more about Baby-Led Weaning as an option when weaning your babies I would really recommend this blog and forum for tips, recipes, and much needed reassurance when you’re getting started. Or talk to me!
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Read MoreSupporting Cast
I think it’s about time I introduced you to a few of the other supporting cast members in this strange surreal stage-show that seems to be my life at the moment (I think I shall name it “Talking Bread People On Ice”). You’ve met me and you’ve met Kai, and you haven’t run away yet. Let’s see after this lot…
Introducing: my family. Who have all been given super-hero secret identities for the purpose of this narrative.
THE HUSBAND (a.k.a The World’s Most Patient Man)
Super Hero Powers: King of the random fact and endless movie trivia. Able to put up with wife’s irrational, slightly bi-polar behaviour and giant paddys without even a flicker of annoyance. To laugh and make-fun of aforementioned irrational, bi-polar behaviour thus defusing tense situations with ease (It is very hard to stay stroppy with someone calling you a “big head pixie wife” over and over again). In similar fashion has a unique ability to come up with new and interesting ways to make the Kai-ransaurus laugh – including such popular games as “Ninja Dad”, “Sock-Ear Dad” and singing and dancing to such self-penned classics as “Just A Little Nugget Of A Poo”.
Can magically produce cups of tea and treats at much needed moments. Champion Washer-Upper and ‘tidying’ in the form of putting things in giant neat piles.
Generally just a complete super-star. I’m still wondering quite what I did to deserve him and hoping very, very hard he doesn’t figure out his misfortune and do a runner anytime soon. I am currently having to share him with the love of his life his new HTC Hero phone but I think I’m safe as long as it doesn’t develop an app that cooks his tea.
Kryptonite Style Weaknesses: Colds, or illness of any sort. Anything breaking, especially something gadgety and electrical, is likely to bring on apocalyptic style melt-downs.
Super-Hero Accessories: Mobile Phone. Crisps.
Most Likely To Say: “Did I mention my phone can scan the night sky and tell you the constellation you’re looking at? No? Well it can” and “Do we have any snacks?”
THE MUM
Super Hero Powers: Green fingers able to grow vegetables of monumental size and deliciousness. Increasingly talented post-modern flower arranger. Spectacular ability to piss off the Christian Right at her local church with her ‘lifestyle’ choices, being both gay and a Christian and generally lovely and hard to dislike however much they try. I’m trying to encourage her to start a guerrilla flower arranging campaign and fill her church with phalic symbolism but she’s taking some persuading…
One of her greatest abilities is to have a busier social life then me and be out most of the time. Hence my longstanding and fulfilling relationship with ‘answering machine mom’ in her absence. Currently sailing the Med in an enormous boat, living it large, and being generally fabulous. The most empathic and caring woman I know. I love her and am so proud of her I could burst.
Kryptonite Style Weaknesses: Rampaging Badgers in her vegetable patch. Anything even vaguely sentimental or emotional likely to bring on fits of ‘leaking’ from the eye area.
Super-Hero Accessories: A pair of deadly, poison tipped secateurs. A rainbow fish window sticker.
Most Likely To Say: “I’m sorry I’m not here right now. Please leave your message after the tone”.
THE STEP-MUM
Super Hero Powers: My mother’s lovely wife. Ability to spot dust and dirt with radar-like precision and attack it in on sight – she would put the Stepford Wives to shame with her tireless enthusiasm for housework. Michelin-star standard cook (I’m thinking of moving back home just for the cooking). Enjoys arguing for fun and has an impressive ability of making out she knows a lot about something when she actually doesn’t. Vicious competitive streak – don’t expect her to bail you out of jail in Monopoly. Has a tendency to fall fast asleep mid conversation and then wake up and join back in when you’re least expecting it.
Also the most generous, thoughtful woman I have ever met.
Kryptonite Style Weaknesses: Time. Having absolutely no concept of it what so ever. Thinking that a spare ten minutes is ample time to clean an already clean bathroom, paint a shed and have a shower. Currently battling with her arch-nemesis the evil PHD monster that eats up all of her time and attention. Oh and fluffy socks that leave bits on the carpet.
Super-Hero Accessories: A hoover. A slightly evil cat.
Most Likely To Say: “I’m working from home today” and “Do you want a coaster for that?”
THE DAD
Super Hero Powers: Extraordinary ability to be loud and command everyone’s attention, making everyone like him in an instant (especially old ladies). Deserves special mention for being mostly responsible for my sense of humour (and thus this blog) having given me and my brother the very finest comedic education. Tireless campaigner for naughty children the world over – what this man doesn’t know about Governmental Children’s Legislation just isn’t worth knowing. Published author of several absolutely-not-boring-in-the-slightest but impressively influential textbooks.
Globe-trotter adventurer extraordinaire. Witty, brainy, unbelievably generous and warm hearted and deserving of several shiny certificates for bravery and coping skills. Has the ability to look EXACTLY like Captain Birdseye when he grows a beard. Has successfully fought off a mid-life crisis so far but I fear it is only a matter of time.
Open to offers (rich, successful, sane women only please – will be vetted by daughter).
Kryptonite Style Weaknesses: The recession and it’s spectacular timing, arriving as it did at a time when he is trying to sell two houses. Illness – which needs immediate treatment with sympathetic noises and a comic.
Super-Hero Accessories: A bum bag. A jaunty walking hat and shorts in all weathers.
Most Likey To Say:“Compare the Meerkat… dot com” and “It’s a Kai bear after all” (to the tune of “It’s a Small World”).
THE BROTHER
Super Hero Powers: World’s most devoted Uncle, ability to make Kai weak with excitement at merely the mention of his name. King of the argument, serial Devil’s advocate. Scarily clever and disciplined. World domination could quite easily be his if only he put his mind to it. Currently dabbling with being a young professional graduate after playing with being an unemployed bum for a while but not finding it to his liking. Does not yet own a Blackberry but, much like dad buying a sports car, I fear it is only a matter of time. DO NOT challenge him to an argument on any philosophical or religious topic. HE WILL WIN.
His hair should get a mention all of it’s own (probably counts as a side kick) given it’s amazing ability to resist all forms of grooming and being water repellent.
My partner in random humour. Still makes me laugh more than anyone else in the world. My best friend.
Kryptonite Style Weaknesses: Stupid ignorant people (same as me) who will never fail to bait him into an argument. A complete inability to concede a point or back down in a ‘discussion’. Taking his glasses off (no he’s not Superman – just can’t see a thing). An irrational fear of mime artists.
Super-Hero Accessories: A big cup of tea. A copy of Nietzsche “The Gay Science”.
Most Likely To Say:“Do you fancy a cuppa?”, “Did I ever tell you about the time I was relaxing in a Budapest Spa…” ”YOU’RE WRONG! REALITY IS ONLY A MATTER OF PERCEPTION!” and “Yeah? You fight like a cow!” (I could think of about a million more but won’t).
So there we go. My family ladies and gentleman. They assure me they are all delighted to meet you.
