'no hands' Larry

Tilly has several times today stood unaided, as I type she's carefully let go of the computer table to try out the new trick.  Only for a few seconds each time but she's doing it nonetheless. 

She's also just found the phone, put it to her ear and said "Da Da".  Wonderful moments are happening all the time now. 

"I don't know why you're the one crying"

 . . . no one ever likes having them done.  Alongside the media spotlight on Jade Goody's battle against cervical cancer came my reminder letter for my smear test from the doctors.  

The appointment was supposed to be last Friday evening but the nurse cancelled at the last minute, how inconsiderate - I'd waxed and everything!  I rearranged for today, not a great time, 11.30am - when I've got Tilly with me.  I tried to get Tilly to sleep early in the morning so she'd be happy to play by herself during the appointment.  I took a toy and a box a raisins, usually a surefire way of keeping her occupied.  The timing didn't work out, she was still tired and clingy when we got there, I set up her playing on the floor with the toys and her raisins but as soon as I walked a metre away to the bed she started to scream.  

Smears are always undignified, I mean how on earth can you have any dignity with your legs spread apart whilst someone shoves a stick up your bits 'to have a scrape around' for samples.  I'd cleverly worn a skirt, last time I hadn't thought it through and worn jeans and a top and there is that really awkward and embarrassing bit where you have to walk around with all your bottom half on display.  In the end, Tilly's screaming was so distracting that the nurse brought her over to see me and I had the examination with her sitting on my stomach, still howling her head off.  "I don't know why you're the one crying" I told her as the nurse was busy at the other end of the bed.  Believe it or not, it was actually weirdly better than all the other smear tests I've ever had!  The distraction of having her on my tummy and trying to calm her down meant I didn't have time to feel as embarrassed or uncomfortable.  

Examination over and I was able to get dressed.  The nurse and I laughed about little ones and she told me how it gets more difficult as they get older, mainly as they are so inquisitive that they often want to be down at the 'action end'*.  Phew, at least I got away with her just sitting on my tummy.  

*Mental note for the future: I must remember that next time I really need to do them when she can be looked after by someone else.

Going to the zoo, zoo, zoo

Today we went to Twycross Zoo for Richard's birthday.   I knew she was on the young side to enjoy it thoroughly but it is always lovely being out.  She didn't like the monkeys as much as I thought she would.  There was a moment when we were inside looking at a monkey that she did seem fascinated by, however all of a sudden another money flew through the door, jumped on a swing which banged loudly on the window and jumped off.   Tilly immediately started screaming, it made her jump (as did we all), after that she didn't seem to trust any of them. 

I spent the time walking around with Tilly on my shoulders and holding her hand, partly to wear her out and to stop her from being frustrated. She is always on the go now and so to keep her confined in the pram just gets her really cranky at the end of the day. 

10 years ago today

gosh, I met Richard 10 years ago today, which means I've spent a third of my life with him . .

Who'd have thought it that 10 years ago when we went to see a band called 'The Dizzy Club' in Sheffield that we'd be here in Coventry 10 years later, married and with a near one year old. 

Jeremy Paxman - a children's favourite?

This evening, after Tilly was ready for bed she was sitting on my knee watching The One Show, she roared with laughter every time Jeremy Paxman appeared on the TV.  I thought it was just a one off but every time he came on she started.  Weird. 

Starbucks family

We used to go to Birmingham all the time but since we had Tilly we've not been.  I think it is the time spent to get there in the car.  We mooched about, down the canals, to IKON gallery and a few other places as well as the traditional shopping trip around Bullring, especially Selfridges. 

Having a break for a coffee we went to Starbucks in Borders, always nice as it tends to be child friendly, near the children's books and keeps Richard happy as he can always have a browse.  

I took a seat while Richard bought the drinks.  No sooner than I sat down and a small child (7 ish) turned to me and said 'hello' and that he 'liked making friends'.  My polite smiles opened the floodgates as he then showed me his pictures in his sketch book.  This all sounds very odd but it was a beautiful thing.  The two brothers were sitting on the sofa in Starbucks, their parents heavily engaged in conversation with friends on the sofa next to them. The boys both had sketch books filled with stories they'd written with accompanying pictures, the table in front of them was full of stickers, pencils, pens and more.  

Early on in this encounter I was sorting Tilly out with her milk and the small boy asked if I liked being pregnant, a weird question but the then clarified by telling me his mum was pregnant again and it was the size of a small tomato.  The constant barrage of questions, explanations and stories continued and I learnt of their parent's desire to have a girl, that they both liked Batman (but had improved his powers in their stories and even designed new logos for every year since 1980), heard about every other 'friend' that they'd made in Starbucks, in fact there wasn't much they didn't tell me!  Their parents seemed very relaxed by this conversation and sat heavily engaged in their own conversations.  Richard approached quizzically as these boys were by now standing up next to me showing me their sketches, many of which were Batman logos, Starbucks logos and a picture story that hadn't been finished as he couldn't decide what should happen. 

Richard always complains about his lack of understanding of what small children are saying and his ability to talk to them.  But that wasn't the case with them, I think it shows how much he has learnt and eased up with children since having Matilda.  He discussed and asked questions about their books and stories and the boys seem genuinely excited that he was interested and they excitedly nudged each other and talked louder to try to get his attention.  After about 25 minutes of this 'entertainment' we decided it was time to go.  Their father had finished talking to their other friends and apologised for them, there was no need to, they really had made it a quirky addition to our trip.  He told us to 'pop in anytime and say hi' which made both of us question if they were there every week, it certainly would explain the Starbucks logos in the sketch book dated 2006 and the boys revelations for customers that had been there.  I must remember that as a cheap parenting tool, let your children be entertained and learn socialisation lessons for free by spending Saturday afternoons in your local Starbucks!

Let it snow

The snow has pretty much brought the UK to a standstill over the last week or so.  Schools have been closed, buses and trains have stopped running and the whole country is snow obsessed. The majority of it hit Thursday and Friday this week.  

Tilly doesn't seem to be interested in it either way.  She is just a little bit too young to enjoy it.   

I thought I'd take her out in the crisp, undamaged back garden.  I spent about 10 minutes putting layers on her, jumpers, coats, hat, gloves, shoes etc and I took her outside and we spent about 2 minutes in it before coming back in again.   The snow was deep and her feet sunk down until the snow was up to her shins. Her shoes aren't really suitable for that kind of weather and she looked uneasy.  I gave her a little bit of snow in her hand, I took her glove off so she could feel it.  She hated it and so we came back in to the comfort of observing it from the warm inside. 

After two days of being stuck in the house as soon as Richard came home we went to the park for a walk.   It was a lovely evening, we went down to Allesley Park where there were loads of children sledging.  We watched them for a while and then walked to the playground where Tilly played on the swings.   As we walked to the playground the sun was setting and it was so beautiful as the snow reflected the fading light.   

The importance of child'care'

I was deeply upset last week when for the second week running, during the 'Box of Delights' course Matilda was having a shitty time in their free creche provision.  

The first week I forgave them for their misdemeanors and put it down to settling in. 

The second week was a complete disaster. 

So, week three: I have been tying myself up in knots about this creche provision. But I thought it only fair to give it one last shot.   

Once again as I arrived Matilda tensed up and started to scream as we walked down the corridor to the baby room.  The two care workers in their looked at each other, seemed to roll their eyes and carry on with business.  I already wanted to turn around and leave.  

I asked the main creche worker where she wanted me to put the pram, she didn't look me in the eye but humpfed and said begrudgingly that she'd have to move stuff out of the way.  It was them who asked me to bring the damn pram in in the first place, I'd rather not get it out of the car either.   

As I tried to calm Tilly down and take her coat off the manager walked in and I almost felt like I was being told off.   

"We need you to stay with her this morning to help her settle in" she said.  

I would love to, I would have loved to two weeks ago when the course first started but I was urged to leave.  I got Tilly out of her pram.  

The key worker who only a few minutes before was grumping had been whisked into a side room with the other care worker and the manager.  By this time I was sitting on the floor with Matilda still crying trying to distract her with some toys on the floor, whilst all the other children in the nursery were coming over to 'meet' us.  I got her to calm down a little but when I moved she gripped me so tightly and started to cry again.   

The realisation that I seemed to be the one in trouble seemed to have regressed me to a child myself once more.  I felt like a naughty child who had been told off by the teacher and was waiting to be taken to the head.  I started to well up, I was screaming silently in my head what are you doing?  I am a grown woman with a baby in her arms crying at a nursery.  A mixture of shock, anger, sadness for Matilda (how could I do this to her?).  I was going to call several times in the week to say I was dropping out but I hadn't. And now look.  I shouldn't have come back.   My instincts were right.   As all the different emotions rushed around my body the tears were more than welling, they had started to roll down my face.  With that, I took Tilly out of the baby room leaving the pram, coats and bags and went out into the corridor.  I just wanted to run away.  

I stood in the corridor making Tilly laugh by blowing a Chinese lantern, still with tears now streaming down my face.  I wished I could teleport or had access to a tardis to disappear.  I could not bare to go back into the room.  Eventually I walked down to the training room to let Irene the course leader know that I was leaving, for today  . . and the rest of the course. 

As I turned the corner, the manager of the children's centre was there. She was looking for me.  I was taken into her room.  In my head before I arrived there today I was going to give the three strikes and your out option to the key workers.  I had planned in my head to vocalise once more what I expect from their childcare. Only 15 minutes later I was sitting in the manager's office with my face all red, tears rolling down my face not being able to voice that articulate speech I'd prepared. I felt like the person who was going to do the dumping and who got pipped to the post. 

The manager tried to explain the situation, the creche is on top of their normal provision blah, blah, blah.   I told her about my experiences over the last two weeks and that this was going to be the last chance saloon.  When I gave examples of the dummy incident and the being strapped tightly into the pram, she said that it was on the forms but maybe that had not been communicated to staff.  Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes -each time on arrival AND on departure I explained my requests as a parent for my child is that the dummy was only to be used for sleep and that she was crawling around a lot at the moment.  

I had raised the issues with them on departure but often I've been too upset by the sight that I have been greeted with to go full whack.  I was not going to have their lack of care blamed on my lack of communication. I have left them with clear guidance every time and if they don't listen I certainly was not going to have that thrown back at me.   At this point she backed down and then admitted she had no authority over the creche workers as they were brought in externally.  

 

I had got to that point where I needed to let it all out and have a good howl.  I haven't been like that for a while and what a time for it to bloody happen?  I wanted to be clear headed, reasoned and give a clear (non-teary) response and argument.  Instead I had a (thankfully) babbling Matilda giving her chirpy two pennies worth into a teary, half hearted debate into the quality of their childcare provision.   

Lots of solutions were put forward including Matilda having free settling in sessions during the week but I'd had enough I wanted to leave now.   I was certainly never taking her back to them.  

I don't want to be one of those mothers who thinks their child never does anything wrong.  I know that Matilda will be naughty, she'll say the wrong thing, do the wrong things sometimes and when she does I will be there to enforce discipline and structure.  I don't want the nursery to think that I am pandering to her needs on this one.  At her own nursery she'll practically run through the doors, smile as she approaches because they do provide child'care'.   One thing I noticed was that the key worker today didn't say hello to Matilda when she came in, such a basic need for any child, to feel welcome.   In fact, not just her, they didn't acknowledge me either.  

While the manager went to collect my things from the baby room.  Irene (course leader) was brought in.   I had to explain it all to her again.   I'd love to do the rest of the course but I'm not doing it like this.  As we were having the conversation the chavviest, noseiest chav from thr course kept walking past the door looking like her eyes would pop out and her ears had grown, so desperate to know what what going on.   Another reason for not continuing. I'm not a snob but I don't like chavs.  In fact scrub that I probably am a snob after that last admission. 

Box of delights? . . .no, a creche of disaster

The second week, I felt Matilda tense up and then scream as we entered the doors of the baby area.  I had brought her pram in (as requested) so she could sleep in comfortable surroundings and then  I repeated the instructions of no dummy when awake.  I left her howling hoping that it would soon stop and she'd be happily playing as soon as I was out of sight.   The whole lesson I wondered if she was OK but daren't check (if she saw me she probably only start screaming again), besides they said they'd get me if anything was wrong.   

The class was good, if a little basic. We have now been joined by a total chav group, who spent the whole session discussing the local housing association and regaling stories of so-and-so getting stabbed etc.   Nice.  

There are three of us who seem to not be part of that group.   The lesson was therapeutic and I enjoyed having a bit of time to just feel like I was playing again.  

I went to go and pick her up and I felt a combination of such sadness and fury as she was sitting strapped so tightly into her pram, red eyes and tear stains down her face with her dummy in.   I was absolutely livid.  She started crying when she saw me again.   I asked them why she was in her pram, she can crawl and explore now, she is never not moving and I think it is criminal to have a 10 month old strapped and effectively gagged indoors in a stationery pram.  They said she didn't seem to like it on the floor.  Bollocks, any good childcare worker should know that if you distract an unhappy child with a toy they will soon be entertained, it just takes some effort.  

I soon had one of the ladies hollering across the room 

"Matilda's Mum, Matilda's Mum"  

she then said "don't you leave her with strangers? It may be a good idea if you left her more often, or perhaps consider putting her into a nursery"   

"What?  Like your fucking one? This shit one here?" I wanted to reply.  

Instead I told them that she did go to nursery, 3 days a week for the last 4 months and she is very happy there, practically runs in.  Maybe she is just a good judge of character. 

I spent the day worrying over what it has done to Matilda, making it up to her.  That is not right is it?  I shouldn't have to do that.  Richard and Mum both think I should give up, but surely Matilda also needs to know that sometimes she may have to go to other places and that I always come back.   Maybe I'm just kidding myself.  Maybe I'm being selfish. 

A reading chair

Matilda often looks uncomfortable when she is sitting on the hard floor so we got her a comfy chair today.   It is a bean bag armchair.  Didn't go to get one on purpose but I sat her in it in the shop and she beamed and then I found myself at the counter buying it.  

When we got home, we sat her in it and she 'chillaxed'.   

Later she sat reading her books in the chair.  It is so funny watching her in the chair, she looks comfy and seems to like it.   Although she does sink into it slowly too and struggles to get herself out.