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The strangest thing happened on November 3rd 2012. I was breastfeeding my daughter when suddenly something changed. It was as if the milk realised that she was six months old and, like Lily Potter’s enchantment when Harry turned 17, it could no longer protect her. That blue glow she used to carry around with her disappeared. Her little baby immune system was vulnerable to any virus or bacterium going, and as I looked out of the window I could see them all trying to get in and infect her with their virusey fingers. E-coli! MRSA! The common cold! They all wanted a piece of my little girl and, thanks to breast milk suddenly losing its magical powers after six months, she got them all. Oh the mess! Why did no-one tell me that this would happen? Why did no-one say, like TV’s Dr Christian did in “Closer” magazine, that “Breast milk boosts a baby’s immune system, but only for the first six months. After that it has no effect.”?
Why did no-one say that? Maybe because it’s not right. Maybe because even “Closer” has been forced to clarify their position, posting a longer statement that this was part of. That’s why no-one told me. And that’s why Eva didn’t really lose all her immunity on the stroke of 26 weeks – it’s just not true.Not even the bit with the MRSA.
It’s not the first time that Dr Christian has caused upset among breastfeeding mothers. After all, it was his column that in 2010 proudly proclaimed “Breastfeeding can make your boobs sag – FACT!”, which the Press Commission defended, saying that the word “can” made it conjecture rather than fact, despite the word “fact” being in capital letters with an exclamation mark at the end. Well, that works in all sorts of ways – reading books can kill you (just ask my great-grandfather), drinking can cause trips to Southend (just ask Nathan) and having friends can cause you to become tied naked to a rugby post (just ask my brother). It doesn’t mean that one thing necessarily will lead to another, it’s just that it has happened somewhere in the world at some point. FACT!
He calls himself a breastfeeding advocate, and says that this response was taken out of context but they are his words and they are wrong. If he doesn’t want “Closer” to publish misleading lines like “After that it has no effect”, then he should take it up with the magazine. And as for the condescending next line about “as long as the child is having a healthy diet, there’s no harm in breastfeeding” – well, thanks. I feel validated now, even though you’re making it clear that breastfeeding has no value after a child starts on solids and we just do it more out of habit than anything else. He doesn’t mention the nutritional aspect of breastfeeding, but why should he? That wouldn’t be controversial at all. And controversy, as we know, sells.
So, is there any value in breastfeeding past six months? After all, doesn’t it just turn into water? Well, supporting that point of view, in the Gwean Corner we have Dr Chris, if I may call him that, a confused person on Yahoo! Answers and some random OB. In the Bloob Corner, we have the WHO, the NCT, the AAP and the NHS who all talk about time periods like “into the second year”, “two years and beyond” and “as long as you wish”. Which side would you pick in a fight? In the grand scheme of things, six months is still very young and they need the nutrients from milk that they don’t get from any kind of solids (no, not even purees…they’re mostly water).
What I’m conflicted about is who to be mad at here. After all, the magazine backed down and retracted its advice so they’re clearly sorry. But it’s not good enough, is it? Fact is, they printed it, Dr Christian put his face to it and someone sitting in a baby clinic with a 6-month-old will have read it and be scared into weaning so that they don’t get a “psychologically dependent” child with “behavioural problems”. There is nothing wrong with stopping breastfeeding at six months, six weeks, a year or any time as long as that’s the right decision for the mother and child. What is wrong is the media quoting an “expert” with the headline, again in capitals “AFTER SIX MONTHS THERE’S NO NEED”. I’ve ranted a lot about misinformation before, and it’s a sad old world we live in when magazines publish advice they know to be misleading for the sake of a headline. And yes, they knew it was – how else would they have been so ready with an apology? It’s all in the name of generating publicity for the magazine, which once again they’ve done but how many breastfeeding relationships have been truncated because of the good doctor’s advice? Now excuse me while I go and fight off the latest bunch of viruses who have turned up at the door looking for Eva….
It’s been a while since our last LWAT adventure – a wet and work-busy January hasn’t been the ideal time for doing exciting things, but with an end in sight to the virtual pile of work, it was time to get out and see what there was to see.
Which started yesterday at the Horniman Museum with Maria and the family. It was busy, with a storytelling session in the pavilion but we weren’t going to that, so we managed to stay ahead of the crowds. It did involve eating lunch at 11:15, but I saw the look of the cafe at 12:30 and it wasn’t pretty. Even less pretty was the state of Eva after she had sat in a pile of mud near the outdoor instruments. Then she jumped in a muddy puddle, soaking her little pink shoes and tights. I blame Peppa Pig, but it’s my fault too. As Mummy Pig says, you must always wear your boots when you jump in puddles and Eva’s boots were at home. I guess I’d dressed her for indoors but there’s a lot of outdoor space at the Horniman. Lesson learned. On the upside, she made friends with some taxidermed owls (above).
Today, it was time to catch up with C’sMum, C and R at the Royal Festival Hall. Again, it was damp out. And eerily quiet inside. We were there at 10, and were practically the only people there, so free to roam around the primary-coloured chairs and jump on the big green cushion. And I really mean “we” – I joined Reuben on the floor and it was pretty comfy.
Then Eva decided to pounce on us too, and turned Roo into a tiger
But the favourite toy of all the children were some little plastic stool things that they pushed around and called “rhino horns”. I don’t know what they were actually for, but sometimes they were for sitting on:
And sometimes for sitting in:
But mainly for pushing around, in an overexcited way and shouting “charge!” There may have been one person there who was trying to do some work. but he knew the risks when he sat next to the brightly coloured chairs and tables. It’s not like there are no other bits of the Royal Festival Hall to work in. By this time, the ballroom was filling up with other small children of all sizes, and things were getting a bit overwhelming for R and Eva, who needed a nap. So, we went outside to play in the Earth house that’s left over from the Festival of the World but is now inexplicably pink:
All the other bits are now pink as well, and the little caves and giant snake provided a good few minutes’ entertainment for the 4-year-olds, even if the climbing fun meant that the toddlers were clambouring to get out of their buggies and join in, instead of sleeping. Further walking was required.
Down on the South Bank itself, we saw another distraction that amused the older ones and kept the toddlers awake. I’m not normally interested in the street art along there – it’s all a bit touristy really – but this man had a power that no-one could resist. The power to blow enormous bubbles!
Some of them were so huge that you felt like you were in a shower if one popped above your head (ask Eva just how that feels). I thought Reuben was going to dive into the river in pursuit of one but luckily we kept hold of all the children we’d come with. It was a pretty impressive show though.
With the toddlers still stubbornly refusing to nap, we gave in and took them to the playground which still only has two swings, but now has some new bouncy-chicken things which are perfect toddler size. For the big boys though, it’s all about the assault course:
And then Reuben ran out of the park after a pigeon and didn’t quite see why this was a Bad Idea. It was time for the change of shift. Daddies, tag in…!
There’s a troll under every bridge, apparently. The bridges near us tend to be of the Thames-spanning variety so could comfortably house an entire family of trolls, but checking underneath them would require a boat or a bungee cord. But this is the basis of “Walter Under the Bridge”, a new children’s book written by Dion Child and published by Maggie Taylor and Grahame Penny, who own a working toll bridge in Herefordshire. With a friendly troll called Walter living under it.
Reuben was very excited to have a new book to read when he got home from school. He’s a big fan of the “Billy Goats Gruff”, so is very au fait with the bridge/troll mythology. The basic plot is that Walter, the friendly troll, is bullied out of his home by some meaner trolls and has to find a new home under a new bridge. Roo enjoyed it, his favourite bits being when the swan swooped down and rescued Walter out of the sky and the appearance of a bouncy dog towards the end. I’m a bit of a sucker for a bouncy dog too, especially one with a protruding tongue, and the one in the story is based on a real-life rescue dog called Chester. 50p from every book sold goes to Dogs Trust, who rescued Chester from unspeakable doggy-hell and I think Nathan would agree that I’m a complete pushover when it comes to badly treated puppies. I have to be physically restrained whenever the Dogs Trust ad comes on TV otherwise I’d be donating the monthly food budget to buy blankets and chewy toys for tired terriers.
So, what did I think of the book? Well, it was a little long – it took me around 20 minutes to read to Roo. But he concentrated well through it, so I think the target audience of 4-9-year-olds would appreciate it. I can’t imagine Eva sitting still that long. It was a nicely constructed story, with just enough peril, but I was a bit disappointed that the baddies never got their comeuppance. Still, it had a happy ending with a bouncy dog so that was all OK. It’s a debut work from the author and it’s definitely worth checking out. It’s accompanied by some promotional activity at the bridge itself – you can go along an meet Walter, and get a sticker to say you have – e-mail walter@whitneybridge.co.uk to arrange it. the book also comes with bonus features (or “DVD extras” as Nathan calls them) – a make-your-own flip-flap, a colouring page and some pictures of the bridge (and the real Chester). It’s on Amazon now and available on Kindle download I believe.
We enjoyed it – hope you will too. Remember that some of the money goes to the doggies. I love the doggies….
Disclaimer: I was given a free copy of “Walter Under the Bridge” to review by Whitney Bridge Publishers. All views expressed remain honest and factual.
Reuben’s in bed, Eva’s still lively and Nathan’s just switched Pink Floyd off for being too psychedelic…this can only mean one thing. Time to watch “In the Night Garden”. Eva’s an addict, and if your toddler also likes to stand inches from the TV, swaying in time to the music, then you have a treat in store because “In the Night Garden Live!” is coming soon. Dates will be announced on Monday 27th January, but before they are, there is a special competition to win tickets.
Here’s how it works. You need to do two things – visit the official website to sign up for the competition, and like the Facebook page. This puts you into the pre-sale competition, where £2240 worth of ITNG tickets are being given away between 14th and 27th January. That’s one premium family ticket (worth £160) being given away every day. It’s definitely worth entering.
If you don’t win, being a Facebook fan of the page has other advantages – it gets you the chance to order tickets two days before they go on general sale (Facebook users can buy from 29th January, general public can buy from 31st January). There will be games to play and posts to share which will also help you skip ahead in the pre-sale queue. So if you want to see Makka Pakka, Upsy Daisy and those big balloon things, make sure you like the Facebook page before the presale competition ends. There may also be a giveaway on here, but more on that later. There may also be some details to clarify on the presale, but leave a comment if you have any questions and I’ll do my best to answer…!
And..don’t tell Eva we’re going. It might excite her so much that she never sleeps again…!
There’s one simple way to describe this parade – “soggy”. We left the house and it was drizzling. Then it got to be raining and at various times later it was definitely approaching pouring. But we’d spent a quiet day in on NYE, followed by a quiet evening in and I was in the mood to get out of the house and, more importantly, get the kids out of the house. Last year’s NYD idea – getting a coffee – had been a bit of a bust, so we decided to walk to the NYD Parade. Just because, in the words of 2013 Nathan, we could.
As you would expect, the crowd was a little thin. Still we couldn’t quite get to the barrier and Reuben was a bit grumpy about not being able to see, while Eva was in the buggy and could only see legs. So she came out and went on my back in the sling, Reuben went on Nathan’s shoulders (all tricky manoeuvres in the rain) and finally we were in position.
So, what was there to see? Well, Roo liked the marching bands and the horses made out of grass. I liked the Thunderbirds float, complete with Blue Peter-style Tracy Island. But Roo was grizzling again, so he got down, had an apple and found a place near the barrier where he could see better, thanks to some kind people who moved for him (and possibly thanks to the woman who fainted in front of us too…here’s hoping she’s OK). Then he was happy until he dropped his apple and then the whining started again. We tried to persuade him that his apple had run off to join the parade, but the magic was wearing pretty thin in the persistent rain and it was time to leave. Before we did, though, we spotted Roo’s favourite thing of the whole parade – horses in hats. Yes, real horses. Yes, real hats (straw boaters). Yes, it made him giggle for a long time.
OK, so it was a bit of a washout. The paraders tried their best to wave cheerily but we were at the end of the route and they were losing the will to wave a bit. One soggy morris man looked particularly cold. But here’s the thing – what else can you do on New Year’s Day? As far as I recall, family New Years always involved being dragged on a bracing walk around some kind of damp countryside, so this is just the Central London version. With morris dancers. NYD is inevitably grey and rainy, so you might as well just embrace it. We are British, after all.
Once more, Happy New Year!
We’re back in London after a long break in Hampshire that involved all eight of Roo and Eva’s cousins, a smattering of second cousins and all the aunts, uncles, grandparents and great-grandparents you could ask for. The drive back was going well – sunshine along the M3 (not a rainbow…that’s a photo from another M3 trip) and by the time we got onto the A316 both kids were asleep. Then we got stuck behind someone in a very blingy white Land Rover doing a 3-point turn just before the Hogarth roundabout, which I mention for no reason other than to laugh at his personalized number plate (“BIG MR X”).
Then the paranoia started. A funny noise here. A judder there. Something wasn’t quite right. By the time we got onto Earls Court Rd, there was definitely something wrong. We pulled over into Fawcett Street SW10 and a not-very-close inspection showed that the tyre had ripped and was now completely flat. The challenges we had with this were many and varied. For tedious reasons, I had an uncharged phone in a box with no SIM card and Nathan’s phone had 8% battery left. The spare tyre was under the carpet in the boot, which was packed full of Christmas presents and our suitcase. The rest of the car was stuffed full too. So, we decided to unpick this a bit and tackle the problems one by one.
The phone lasted long enough for a call to the A.A. Hooray! The space was more of an issue, but it wouldn’t be if me and Eva got out. She was awake by then, so if I took her out of the carseat and the buggy out of the boot we’d have enough space to rearrange it all. Needless to say, it had been raining a lot so transferring things in and out of the car involved a gutter full of muddy water. It added an element of jeopardy to the proceedings. Luckily, everything in the boot was wrapped in white bin bags, thanks to an unrelated boot leak although the overall impression when you opened the boot was that we had been caught with a flat tyre on our way to dispose of a body. The large spade and petrol can didn’t help.
So Eva and I waved bye-bye to Nathan and sleeping Reuben and set off on an impromptu version of one of our boys vs girls races. In the XY corner, a broken car and a snoozing boy. In the XX corner, a complete lack of electronic equipment and a stroppy toddler who, presumably, wanted to walk rather than go in her buggy (Over Christmas, we’d asked her if she wanted to go in the sling or toddle and she replied “doddle!”). It would be tough on us all. Yes, I love a challenge and yes, I had missed London but being dumped in the middle of Chelsea in the dark and having to find my way home was a bit too much of an initiation ritual.
Still, we were up for it and first stop was a Tesco to buy some crisps. I was hungry, and ToddlaGirl has survived on nothing but crisps for most of Christmas so a 6-pack of Walkers seemed an economical way of feeding us both. Luckily, I wasn’t in one of the most notoriously snobbish areas of London, so no-one would judge me. Oh wait…I was. The looks I was getting at the bus stop as I gave Eva a “bisp” confirmed that. Maybe I should have invested in a more socially acceptable brand of toddler snack, like a pack of Pom-Bears?
No time to worry about that, as we boarded the 211 and Eva tucked into her bag of Prawn Cocktail “bisps”. I should mention at this point that none of the buses from Fulham Road actually went anywhere useful – the first stop I found would take me to either Clapham Junction, or the World’s End estate. One of those I was pretty sure was in the wrong direction and the other was a few stops down the road. So, I looked at other options, including a bus to somewhere I’d never heard of (Sands End, anyone?), and was relieved to find the 211 that went to County Hall, albeit by a slow and roundabout route. I caught it outside Chelsea and Westminster Hospital and got off at St Thomas’ Hospital, making it a pleasingly themed route (we also took in the Royal Marsden along the way). I knew that the 360 went from somewhere in the area but memory told me that it was at the end of a long walk down Kings Road, and it wasn’t the kind of time for a long walk down anywhere. It was only 5:30, but there’s something about having small children out in the dark that makes you feel like a terrible mother, even before you factor in the bisps. I was also acutely aware that I only had enough Oyster for one bus – yes, I could use my debit card to pay (as we all know by now, surely) but that had failed on Nathan once and I wasn’t really prepared to take that risk when I was still miles from home. So, it had to be a bus that took me somewhere I could walk home from.
But my, what a slow bus. Eva threw away the bisps halfway down Fulham Rd and demanded a “nack” instead. Of course, I’d left all the “nacks” with Reuben and Nathan and had foolishly thought a pack of crisps would last a short bus journey. So, she grizzled and failed to be perked up by the twinkling lights of Sloane Square.
We stopped at Victoria Coach Station for what seemed to be all the time in the world. An old man got very slowly on (he would later get off at Victoria station) and someone else hopped on for a 5-minute chat with the driver. Eva was still demanding snacks that I didn’t have and I didn’t even have a phone to entertain myself with. So we read “Mr Daydream” instead. Eventually we made it over the river to County Hall and stood for a few minutes pondering the chilly walk home along the river before hopping on an overcrowded 159 (es, the debit card worked).
It was good to be home, but at the same time it wasn’t really a race I wanted to win. I’d hoped that the boys would be waiting for us when we got there, so when we got back to a dark house my mind naturally conjured up images of them sad and lonely in the dark back streets of SW10. Luckily, they arrived ten minutes later with Reuben bright-eyed and excited about watching the man fix the car. Seems like they’d had a fine old time. Still, I think next time we’ll stay together, especially if we have no way of getting hold of them once we get home. But if you were wondering what the quickest way to get from SW10 to SE11 is, the answer is…not with a broken car. We’ve all learned something today.
Happy New Year!
Just a quick Christmas greeting from London With a Toddler. I hope your presents are twice as beautiful and half as stroppy as this one:
Merry Christmas!
I’m writing this as part of the Mumsnet Bloggers’ linky. Well, I was going to do it anyway but now I feel less bad about boring you all with stuff you already know…
It’s been an amazing year on the blog. No, really. So many people have agreed to work with us on stuff and as a result I’ve been able to do things I would have called “a trifling fancy” this time last year. Or this time 150 years ago. So, here’s a quick* round-up
*probably won’t be quick.
In January, I started the year as I meant to go on by ranting about some tabloid journalists. A lot of people enjoyed that post. We also skipped the queue at the Rain Room after some handy grizzling from Eva’s friend H.
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In February, I spent my very cold birthday at London Zoo and I ran my first ever giveaway…I think. It was a long time ago and I can’t quite remember. And of course, we took a ride on the ducky boat…!
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March was a quiet month for blogging, and a crazy month for other kinds of writing. Still, I found some time for a TfL rant. Never too busy for that…
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In April, I turned into an estate agent. These things happen to me around the time of the full moon. We also met Sportacus, of LazyTown fame, and checked out our new local soft play, Crazy Chimps.
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May was pretty busy with freelance work too, and disappearing off to Devon for a week, but we did get to see Chris and Pui and Maria got a kiss from Chris. Result!
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June saw us trying out the London Eye and the river cruise with our babysitter niece Natalie. And taking over another boat for Roo’s birthday.
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In July, the blog was 2 years old! So we celebrated with a very sweaty race through Central London. Like you do. We also interviewed the London Eye and the Duck Tours for our Summer Holiday Preview. And we went ravin’ at Big Fish Little Fish.
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In August, we went to LolliBop and enjoyed some Sid’n’Andy action…at least, I did. We visited Peppa Pig World in The Countryside and saw the Polyphonic Spree live (without the kids)
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Reuben started school in September, and I had an idea for an award…but more on that later…
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In October I launched the “London’s Most Toddler-Friendly Cafe Award“, which was eventually won by The Dish and the Spoon in Nunhead. We also went to the CBeebies premiere and met some exciting (by my standards) celebrities.
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In November I wrote a little post about Katie Hopkins which went absolutely nuts and made LWAT the fastest growing blog on WordPress…if only for a few hours. I also went to Mumsnet Blogfest , went self-hosted and saw a wonderful play about Julie Andrews. Busy month!
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Lastly, in December we cried over Old Jack’s Boat and cried (but with laughter) at Potted Panto. And now we’re heading to Winchester for a long-overdue rest.
Thanks everybody for your support this year, for cheering us on as we stumbled down Tottenham Court Rd and for sharing my sad-eyed rant around the web. No idea how 2014 is going to live up to this…!
So, this was an exciting theatre trip, not least because Nathan, Roo and I had jettisoned Eva and left her in the care of a 4-year-old (and her parents). But also because we were seeing Dan and Jeff, of “Potted Potter” fame. I think I mentioned before just how hilarious 2007’s “Potted Potter” was, so when we were offered tickets to “Potted Panto”, I was worried that it wouldn’t hit the same standards. I was also worried that Roo at 4-and-a-half would be too young for it (the recommended age is 5+). But I needn’t have worried on either count. By the interval, my face was hurting from laughing so much and as for Roo? Well, he enjoyed it too.
You see, Reuben is going through what you might call a “toilet humour” phase. It’s pretty standard for boys when they start school, I think. But bodily fluids are the epitome of 4-year-old comedy and “Potted Panto” had plenty of bodily fluid gags to keep him happy. From the beginning, when they discussed their Hundred-Acre Wood idea, “Potted Pooh” with a suitable visual aid, Reuben was overjoyed to find people who seemed to be on his level. When we asked him what his favourite bit was, he said it was the French Fairy Godchicken saying “oui oui” a lot, but he also enjoyed the scene where someone got hit in the face with a custard pie. There was a lot of slapstick alongside the poo and sick gags, which had Roo transfixed.
But there’s so much more to it than that. If you don’t know what “Potted Panto” is, it’s quite simple – 7 pantos in 90 minutes by double act Dan and Jeff , rattled through at breakneck speed, with explanations of panto tradition along the way (yes, there is plenty of opportunity for audience participation). It’s irreverent and hilarious, turning the well-worn stories on their heads, hence the Godchicken. Dan and Jeff take on the majority of the roles themselves, with the Assistant Stage Managers popping up for occasional cameos. That means rapid role-changing and a lot of men in dresses. There’s the kind of banter between the two of them that only comes from years of performing together and it’s that same banter that really makes the show. Especially the description of Jeff overindulging on cocktail sausages at a Christmas party (“it’s a fountain of vomit!”)
There’s a lot that will go over a 4-year-old’s head, like the traditional panto “blue” jokes (e.g. a joke about “being caught by the ghoulies”) and also the pop culture jokes that the show is stuffed with. For instance, Prince Charming is modelled after Lord Flashheart of “Blackadder” but you don’t need to know that to find him funny. And yes, it’s the same Prince Charming for Snow White, Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella although his date of choice was a balding man from the audience. There’s also a lot of song-quoting, from Jack’s cow telling us that her “milkshake brings all the boys to the yard” to Cinderella’s sisters being “U.G.L.Y” and no, they don’t have no alibi. They ugly.
The humour might be infantile in places, but it never goes too far. It’s entertaining rather than offensive, and even their political satire is very gentle (if a biting take on Westminster is what you’re after, try “The Duck House”, also on at the Vaudeville Theatre). There’s also some comedy violence, which Dan worries might not be suitable for kids, but don’t kids just love over-the-top gore, even when it’s mimed? Mine lapped it up anyway.
I’m not going to say too much for fear of spoilers, but it was just brilliant. So sarcastic, high-energy and charming, even with all the poo. It’s on until 4th Jan at the Vaudeville Theatre, so go and see it while you can!
More details here (official site)
Disclaimer: I was given free tickets to the show for review purposes. All opinions remain honest and my own.
