The Christmas Pudding Race and the “Rise of the Guardians” Funland – 01/12/12

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Longest blog title. EVER. What it should have said was “we wandered around Central London a bit in the cold”. But in doing so, we both watched “The Christmas Pudding Race” and visited a winter playground in Leicester Square. I may have mentioned that it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas and this was our first family Advent activity.

We were meeting C and his family at Waterloo, so we started off with a walk along the river in the early morning mist. It was very scenic. Just look at these seagulls:

DSC02102That was a gratuitous photo if ever I saw one. Anyway, it was a nice wander down to Waterloo, and Nathan stopped for a coffee at Magic Coffee Man, which made him happy. When we met C’s family, C’s Dad hadn’t had a coffee, which made him unhappy. Through this, Reuben learnt the simple rule that”coffee makes men happy!” That’ll serve you well, small man.

Luckily there was a Starbucks on the walk to Covent Garden (who knew?!) so we could sort out that particular situation. There was also a “funny tree” outside the Southbank Centre that caused some hilarity for Roo and C. The funny tree has been for some time (I thought it was part of the Festival of the World but it seems to have outlived it) and Roo has both seen it and climbed on it before, but when he saw it with C it was as if for the first time….and it was hilarious. The whole walk across Waterloo Bridge was punctuated by shrieks of “that’s a FUNNY TREE!”.

We got to Covent Garden and the location of the Christmas Pudding Race wasn’t immediately obvious. They had a Christmas tree made out of Jack Daniels barrels and a giant reindeer, both of which I wanted to get a photo of, but we were in a bit of a rush to get to the race before it started and I thought we may have missed it in the ten minutes that we were late.

I’ve never been quite so wrong.

We did find the race course – at the Punch and Judy end of the Plaza and we seemed to be in time. We found places near the giant inflatable slide and we waited.

DSC02105And we waited. DSC02110Then we waited.

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And some more. Bear in mind the situation we had here – temperature hovering around zero degrees, two overtired babies, two 3-year-olds, four grumpy parents. Half an hour seemed like a long time. Roo ran off and lost our space. He and C waited at the fence, getting colder and grumpier. They bought badges to wear on their hats:

DSC02118C’s Dad was despatched to buy child-size hot chocolates to warm them up. We could hear something going on down the other end but didn’t know what. C and Roo both climbed into their buggies. C snuggled under his mother’s Oscha wrap and went quiet. Roo’s mother doesn’t own an Oscha, so he sobbed hysterically; “I’m cold! I don’t want to see a funny race!”. Eventually, I asked one of the race elfs when the race was starting and she said 12:00. That was another 20 minutes away. To kill time, I took Roo for a pee and paid 50p for the privilege. C’s Dad was still missing. Roo resumed sobbing. I think the novelty of watching the funny race had worn off and he wanted to either go home or have a go on the funny race-track himself. Nathan darted off to have a look at the giant Advent Calendar:

SAMSUNGAt around 12:10, the race started. Hooray! For a few minutes, Roo forgot his tears as he watched elves, cats, Santas and a Christmas tree struggle round the inflatable course. He giggled as the elves got stuck on the slide, and was most excited to see a man dressed as a dinosaur. That was only one of the heats though. There was more to come, apparently. But we’d all had enough of the cold by this point, and Eva was squealing for milk so we headed to Benito’s Hat for lunch and some warmth.

DSC02123Did Roo and C behave over lunch? How would you expect 2 recently thawed-out small boys to behave when they get hugely overexcited by each other’s company? Let’s skim over that bit and move onto the “Rise of the Guardians” Funland in Leicester Square.

IMG-20121201-01868As you may have discerned, this was a marketing exercise to promote a new Dreamworks film, and yes, both boys are now clamouring to see it even though it looks a bit dark-side for them. But hey, it was free! There was a huge “Jack Frost” slide, with rubber rings to sit in as you went down, but the boys were too small for it (minimum height 110cm). We quickly moved them on to the “Easter Bunny” maze, with a giant egg in the middle.

IMG-20121201-01864We never did make it to the middle – Roo was too busy running round the maze and shrieking “Dead end! There’s another dead end!” (I later found out that he’d learnt what a dead end was from “Octonauts and the Great Christmas Rescue”). He found the way back out, which he thought was the aim of it all. C and his mum made it to the middle though.

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What else was there? The “Tooth Fairy” bungee was closed  – just as well, seeing as Roo would probably have been too small for that too. We all got our photos taken with the Sandman (see above) but we weren’t allowed to linger or play in the sand. So we went to write a letter to Santa and post it.

DSC02139Oh, and play in the fake snow. Did I mention the fake snow? Scratchy stuff with an authentic London yellowness to it? Roo spent a loooong time playing with it, picking up handfuls and chucking at me (not really allowed) and hiding behind the fake rocks with C (definitely not allowed). After we left, he was still wailing to go back and play with the snow some more. He was momentarily distracted by the glockenspiel performance at what used to be the Swiss Centre (but is now a Swiss pole). He was interested in the noisy cows, but by the time we got home all he wanted was to go back to the snow. Sadly for Roo it’s only on till 9th Dec. Maybe if it gets any colder we’ll have real snow!

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VERDICT: The Christmas Pudding Race was fun, but next year we’ll arrive an hour later and wrapped up a lot warmer. Funland was good for amusing them for an hour or so and not too crowded, but be aware of height restrictions.

Posted in Creating precious childhood memories or something (days out) | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Advent in London

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Is it time for some wintery London tips? It’s December tomorrow, apparently. And this week it’s felt properly cold, almost Christmassy. And just look at the difference two weeks can make in Spring Gardens..

Two weeks ago:

DSC02059And today:

IMG-20121130-01858Not a leaf in sight! We were on our way home from the Tea House Theatre, which has become one of our regular haunts. I may have mentioned it a couple of posts back. Roo likes it because one of the guys there knows all the words to the “Spiderman” theme tune. Which brings me onto my first Advent tip – Christmas kids movies! The Tea House is showing a kids’ Christmas film every Monday afternoon for the next three weeks. They start at 4PM, so fit nicely after nursery for us and the first one is “When the Grinch stole Christmas” next Monday (3rd Dec). Reuben loves a bit of Dr Seuss and I like a bit of cake.

Talking of Seuss, here’s the next thing I’m looking forward to: “Seussical the Musical!” I impulse bought tickets cause it was on Groupon the other day, and it’ll be Roo’s first theatre trip. It’ll be Eva’s as well, but she’s unlikely to know what’s going on. It’ not strictly Christmassy, nor are we seeing it in Advent (going for a New Year’s treat) but I wanted to share my excitement about it. It’s been a long time since I impulse bought theatre tickets. I think the last time was for “Dracula:the Musical” at the White Bear Theatre Pub in Kennington. That was when I was just pregnant with Roo and feeling the early stirrings of morning sickness, so being sung at by vampires in a small space was an obvious remedy.

You may notice a musicals theme here. I do love musicals. One advent tradition of ours is to watch “White Christmas” with our friend Ems and Baileys (except when I’ve been pregnant). Sadly, I’m not putting the details of that out there on the interweb for any festive-munchkin to find it. Our lounge isn’t big enough and we don’t have enough Baileys.

So, for something completely different: tomorrow, we’re going to watch the Christmas Pudding Race in Covent Garden. I know very little about it, except that it involves people carrying Christmas puddings over an obstacle course. That sounds fun, right? There is also reindeer petting in Covent Garden, but that sounds kinda cruel to the reindeer (the Plaza not being quite the tundra they’re used to) so we may give that a miss. There is also something kinda special on in Leicester Square at the moment, but I’ll report back tomorrow…

IMG-20121130-01853So, what else is cool to do? People often ask me about Winter Wonderland, but it is realllly overcrowded…or was last year, anyway. The Southbank Christmas market is a mellower alternative, if you really feel the need to buy mulled wine and ginger-y biscuits. If you’re free tomorrow and have the kind of children that can be babysat (ie not a 7-month-old velcro baby), I would heartily recommend the Buttoned Down Disco Christmas party. It’s ridiculous amounts of fun and we used to go all the time pre-kids. Look, here we are at the first BDD Christmas party back in 2003! Third photo in or just here:

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*Sob* I was so young and skinny then….if , like me, you are too old for clubbing but still want to dress up in Christmas-themed costumes you can always come to the City Gates nativity service on 16th Dec at the University of Westminster. Everyone dresses up, it gets very silly and is fairly light on that religion stuff. Reuben traditionally wears a star costume to it, but refused to last year so it may be passed onto Eva this year. He can be a Christmas dinosaur.

12637_243491035489_2356758_nTalking of carol services, we went to the most bizarre one in Covent Garden around 2007.  I was keen to sing some carols, so we picked one out of the paper and went. It featured a poem about a rotten banana and a man singing a song of thanks to a charity called “the Food Chain” to the tune of “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina”. We tried so hard not to laugh but sadly failed…Then we went to Los Locos and sampled their special Christmas menu, where everything that normally contained chicken was replaced with turkey and two quid added to the price. Good times.

So, that’s a few things to do at Christmas that you may not have considered. Oh yeah, and go skating. But everyone tells you that, right?!

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National Portrait Gallery – 27/11/12

This was meant to be in the last post, but that one went on a little bit, didn’t it? Turns out there are a lot of hours to fill while Roo’s at nursery and E and I enjoy being Girls About Town. This week I decided it was time for Eva to take in a bit of culture and we had to go to Paperchase at Charing Cross, so we popped into the National Portrait Gallery for a quick look round.

I’ve said a few times that I don’t understand art. But portraits I can do. It’s pictures of people. People are interesting. What’s not to understand? When I was new to London and had neither job nor friends, I used to pop into the National Portrait Gallery quite a bit, to have a nosey around and kill time. Nowadays, I have less time to kill but it was rainy (as you can probably tell from the photo) and I was feeling cabin-fevery so it seemed like a good choice.

First impressions are that it’s somewhere that’s good to take a sleeping baby but wouldn’t be so good with a lively 3-year-old. It’s a “looking” kind of place, and Reuben is very much a “touching” kind of child. Preferably by sticking his head into things. Instinct tells me that sticking your head into a rare renaissance cartoon is the way to get yourself chucked out. He would, however, enjoy the massive escalator, which this photo does no justice to:

It was huge. I went straight up it as soon as we went in, for no reason other than it was there. I was keen to get to a loo because my tights were falling down in a spectacular fashion and, for the same reason, needed to keep moving in case I lost momentum and whatever force was keeping them from above ankle-level was lost with it. I hate tights. I would wear skirts a lot more often if only tights weren’t so dang annoying.

So, with that precarious arrangement and weighed down on both sides by Eva and Eva’s changing bag, I went up the 2-and-a-half storey escalator, praying that I didn’t fall down it backwards. I didn’t. And I did find a toilet in which to sort out my hosiery malfunction. And I did manage to keep Eva asleep while doing so. So there. On my toilet quest, I even caught a glimpse of the London skyline from the Portrait Restaurant, though we didn’t have the time to stop for a cuppa there. I do like a good London skyline.

Onto The Tudors then. In the earlier stages of Mat Leave, teeny Eva and I watched hours of The Tudors (the soap-drama) while Reuben was napping. One time, it was while he was napping on the sofa. He woke up, so I paused it, only to accidentally skip back ten minutes to a scene where someone was having a red-hot poker inserted into his jacksie. I think I bundled Roo out of the room with my hand over his eyes.The point is, Eva and I are quite interested in that period and wanted to see the real-life portraits of some of the people wot we saw on the telly. I particularly was interested in the portrait of Anne Boleyn, as I had done a sketch of it in Art Class in around Year 7 and had gained the highest grade I would ever achieve in my whole Art Class career (it was something like a B+….but I was proud of it). So it was weird, but cool to see the original. Eva pointed out that Anne Boleyn’s necklace was the same one as Betty wore on “Ugly Betty” (another program we enjoy together). Yes, I said, I knew that already. Dumbass baby.

That last bit may have happened in my head. I think she was still asleep. Anyway, we mooched around Tudors for a while, swooped through Regency, ignored Victorians and then went to look at pictures of popstars on Level 1. I was considering going to the “Lost Prince” exhibition, but you had to pay for that and I wasn’t that bothered. So, we saw some interesting things but it was very much look and don’t touch. I’m glad I had time to drift at my own pace rather than chasing Reuben. Having said that, if I found myself in the rain in Trafalgar Square again I wouldn’t be averse to taking him there to shelter for a bit.

On the way out, we had more excitement. I spotted this car in traffic:

Now, we’ve seen this car a lot. Its owner lives on our route to Winchester, so we’ve driven past hundreds of times. In case you can’t read the number plate it’s “Not 2B” and often sits next to another car which reads “2 BE”. Get it? The theatrical reference made us think that it must be some kind of actor-type and we’ve often sat in traffic jams and speculated on who it might be. So I was excited to spot it out and about, with its (presumably) celebrity owner stashed in the back. I chased it down Charing Cross Rd and tried to see, but the windows were blacked out. I have since done some research (i.e. googling) and found out who it was, but you’re just going to have to do that yourself. It’s not as exciting as I thought it might be. But I was excited at the time….

VERDICT: A nice place to kill a rainy afternoon with a baby asleep in a sling. Not the ideal toddler runaround.

More details here (official website)

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London with a Tiddler

Yes, I’ve been hanging onto that post title for a long time. It was the brainchild of my friend Rufus’ Mum, who also invented the “Zoom zoom zoom” game. She’s a professional writer. You can tell, right?

Reuben is now in nursery four afternoons and one full day a week. The blog has suffered a bit as a result, but it does mean that Eva and I have time to ourselves every day to do mummy-daughter bonding things. That mainly involves watching Come Dine With Me, but we occasionally get out and do something more interesting, without having to do whatever Roo wants.

One such jaunt was to Pimlico in the rain (see above). We were with Eva’s friend R and his Mum (aka C’s Mum) and were in search of bargains at the Fara Kids shop. Well, R’s Mum was. I had already rinsed an NCT sale and a local jumble sale, so was on a bit of a tight rein, bargain-wise. But I did pick up a new handbag for myself, after my last one suffered total collapse (usual overfilling reasons…).  It looks like a changing bag, which is why it was in the kids shop, but I just use it as a general purpose bag. My handbag-standards have slipped a bit since having a baby…

Well, Eva likes it anyway! It has a strap that’s nice to chew on and it’s all shiny. That’s all she asks for. Anyway, R’s Mum filled bags with her bargains including some breastfeeding tops and a marble run for C. There are two floors of goodies and lots of nice stuff, but also some things I recognised from the 99p shop (babyproofing kit and a Mater book) being sold for £2+. So not everything was a bargain…

Another place I’ve enjoyed without Reuben lately was the Tea House Theatre, which is where the photo above was taken. After a crazy dash to Orpington and back last Friday morning, I dropped Roo at nursery (only ten minutes late) and headed there for a baby-date with Eva’s friend H. Eva spent most of her time on the carpet, playing with the shiny bag and H joined her down there. Handily, that meant that I could get away with eating something without Eva’s tiny hands trying to grab at it.

Oh yeah, cause Eva’s weaning now. The tiny,sleepy baby who snuggled in her wrap and never made a fuss has turned into a food-flinging, teething troublemaker. It’s was Nathan’s Dad’s birthday last week, so we took him to the lunch buffet at Zeitgeist after we dropped Roo off. I had a momentary lapse and thought that, without the 3-year-old, we could eat like civilised human beings while Eva slept. Not her plan. She was wide awake when we got there and didn’t enjoy being jiggled on my knee while I ate some currywurst. No, she wanted to get stuck in and wouldn’t be fobbed off with some cucumber. So I slung her up, walked around the pub a few times and eventually she went to sleep:

Incidentally, Zeitgeist is quite a find. It’s a German pub just off the Albert Embankment with a huge range of German beers and eccentric decor. When it first opened, the menu had descriptions like “this dish is untranslatable but trust us, it’s heaven on a plate”.  So tempting to order based on that alone. Nathan had his 29th birthday there (yes, this was a while back) and invited literally all his facebook friends. Around 290 of them. The event wall was filled with posts that said things like “Sorry Nathan, I thought you knew we’d moved to Canada” and “Sorry, but you know we have five children and live in Wales, right?”. He knew. He was just taking my mantra of “polite to invite, rude to exclude” to the extreme.  As it turned out, it was lucky that the full 290 people didn’t turn up, seeing as the party was on the same night as a Germany-Finland game and the pub was rammed with Germany fans. And just the one or two Finnish supporters, including our very loud friend Michael. We were lucky to escape alive. You only have to watch “Snatch” (where Zeitgeist features under its traditional name “The Jolly Gardeners”) to see how badly it could have gone. Incidentally, one person did turn up from Wales but that was mainly co-incidental.

Sorry, I digressed a little there again. What else do Eva and I get up to? We run around Kennington Park every Thursday morning as part of a Mums-and-buggies exercise class. Or if we’re being chased by a big dog. Or both. I’m no fitness freak – in fact I’m mainly an eating-chocolate-and-watching-Friends freak. So an hour’s gentle workout helps me justify all that TV chocolate. Probably. Anyhoo, it gets us out in the fresh air and Eva can talk to the other babies. It’s where we met her friend H. We train with Alice, who is super-fit but isn’t a scary robot.
I would recommend it if you’re feeling a bit stir-crazy. Eva often screams through it, but she’s not really a buggy baby and it co-incides with her normal nap time. If she’s napped on the nursery run, she’s all happy and perky and coos to the other babies.

The other thing I’d like to do more with Eva is baby cinema. I used to go to the Big Scream at the Ritzy with Reuben all the time when he was little. The picture about is from a screening of “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” when he was just over a month. In the early-parenting haze, going out and watching grown-up films helped maintain my sanity a bit. I remember shielding his tiny eyes from a particularly painful scene in “Bruno”. There are LOTS of other babies screaming, so you don’t feel bad about yours making a noise and some screenings even give you a free cuppa. It’s nice. Sadly, the screening times make it pretty tricky with Eva as they tend to be in the mornings when I have Roo (and they don’t let 3-year-olds watch Sacha Baron Cohen films for some reason). So the Poor Neglected Second Child has missed out again.

We did make it to one mums ‘n’ babies film – Skyfall at Peckhamplex on a Thursday, when Roo does a full day at nursery (again with R’s Mum). I had come straight from exercise class with good intentions of washing in the toilets and putting on some fresh clothes. Sadly, my fresh clothes were in Kennington Park still, in my rucksack. All my careful planning – bus picnic, things to keep Eva amused during the film – had fallen apart. So poor R’s Mum had to put up with the smell of SweatyKate while she should have been idly fantasizing about Daniel Craig. But the babies behaved relatively well, I got my rucksack back from Alice on the way back to nursery pickup and I made it to nursery on time. And Daniel Craig gave those baddies the beating they deserved. So it all ended well.

There you go – a whistlestop tour around the possibilities of London when you only have a tiny parcel and a few nappies to carry about. There’s more, but it’ll have to wait…

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Experimental Sound Art with a Toddler

So, we’ve been in quarantine again this week. As you may have discerned from my last post, we’re struggling with things to do. Lucky then that we were invited to view a friend’s MA end -of-course Sound Art exhibition at London College of Communication. I wasn’t entirely sure what it entailed, but it was a good chance for an outing, so off we went.

Happily for Reuben, this involved going to Elephant & Castle. Unhappily for Reuben, there was still no real Elephant there. You’d think he would have learnt by now. I showed him the red elephant on top of the shopping centre, but once again this was not right. Ah well, he can learn to be choosy when he learns to control his bottom.

Back to the exhibition…It took a bit of finding, as the entrance to the Nursery Gallery was in the car park at the side and the only likely-looking door was labelled “danger of electric shock, do not touch”. I guess this was a student thing, but I’m quite literal, so I looked at all the other possible doors before gingerly trying that one. It’s OK. I didn’t get shocked.

And I didn’t get too shocked by the exhibits either. I may have mentioned on our trip to the Tate Modern that I don’t really “get” art, but this was more accessible than I’d expected. Reuben was pleased that so many exhibits had headphones on, and happily stood and listened for a while to the “Arm-wrestling” film, which was  recorded on the streets form various parts of London. When I put the other set, all I could hear was “f@~#ing c@?#”, so maybe it was time to move Roo on… He thought so too and said “I don’t want to watch this anymore” and switched it off. When I switched it back on, it was just static…oops…Luckily one of the students came and sorted it out, while we wandered off nonchalantly.

One exhibit was actually filmed at the Tate Modern, sadly a week before we were there. A crowd of people walked in, each holding an MP3 player or phone that was playing an animal or bird so it produced a symphony of nature noises in the Turbine Hall. It was pretty cool, and Roo was excited to see somewhere he’d been with his friend C. Another film was of the Barbican, which we’ve also been to fairly recently. I never blogged about that, did I? It was on my due date, it all went wrong, we got stuck in a lot of traffic. Painful memories. Turns out it was all based on an American’s assumption that the Barbican was on the South Bank. She blogged about it here.

Roo’s favourite thing were the vintage toys he found scattered in various corners of the room. I wasn’t sure they were really for playing with, but he had a sneaky play with them before we moved on. I liked the vintage maps and the red cassette tapes, even though I had to explain to an incredulous Roo what they were. I feel so old.

We weren’t there long, but it was more of a hit than I’d expected. I didn’t get many photos as I was a bit busy trying to control him. And i didn’t get much time to look at my friend Greta’s exhibit – several simultaneous films on the meaning of sound – but it was pretty cool. It’s only on till 24/11, so if you want to go, go quickly!

More details here (official website)

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Chasing the ducky boat

 

So, I took a week off blogging as part of my social media holiday. I was considering a “wot I did on my holidays” post but it really was too dull for words. The short version is that Roo contracted a virus which made his tummy a little….err…unpredictable and kept him at home most of the week. I won’t dwell on it. We’re still home. But at least I have the internet back.

We did manage to get out for one afternoon, to do something we’ve been meaning to do for ages. This will require some preparation on the parents’ part – if you do it just off the cuff, it might be a bit rubbish. This activity is called “chasing the ducky boat”.

(No, that’s just a duck)

You know the ducky boat. Some people call it “London Duck Tours” but they don’t spend all day in conversation with a 3-year-old. It’s a ducky boat. But get this – it’s also a ducky car. We often see it out and about in Central London and if we’re lucky we’ll get stuck next to one in a traffic jam, so that Roo can wave manically at the passengers. Sometimes they wave back. So, try telling Reuben that the ducky boat and ducky car are the same thing? He just won’t believe you. It seems like crazy talk. To be fair, I never believed it until I saw it for myself. So, that’s the preparation you need to do – get the preschooler obsessed with spotting the ducky boat on both the river and the road and then tell him these wild stories about cars that can drive on water.

The ducky boat/car is more properly known as a ducky amphibious vehicle. You remember the episode of Top Gear where they try and cross the Channel in cars? Well, just like that. But a bit less rubbish. And a lot less Richard Hammond, though I see here that David Tennant has been in the vicinity of one, which is even more exciting. Anyhoo, it’s a car that goes in the water. And I was determined to prove it to Roo.

We wandered off down the South Bank towards sunny Vauxhall and took the Thames Path just by the Tower Of Ultimate Evil (so called because both Jeffrey Archer and Peter Stringfellow live there). If you follow the path round, you end up next to a slipway between “Charity Towers” and “That big sinister building with lots of CCTV cameras that featured heavily in the recent James Bond film”. That is the ideal vantage point for watching the ducky boat splash in. Five minutes past the hour is about the right time too. We only had enough time for Roo to get minorly restless before we spotted it coming over Vauxhall Bridge. And then it turned into the slipway. Do you want the action shots? OK, as you asked so nicely.

READY:

STEADY:

SPLISH!

Well, that was exciting! How to top that? A trip to Tesco Metro at Vauxhall station didn’t quite do it, so we walked back through Spring Gardens and looked at the pretty autumn leaves:

And then to Peddlar’s Park, where we found more autumn leaves and a squirrel. Can you see it?

It’s a bit like the squirrel version of “Where’s Wally?” isn’t it? Well, Roo was fascinated by it and chased it around the park before it escaped up a tree. He decided it was off to bed, so stood at the base of the tree and serenaded it with his very own “squirrel lullaby”. It went something like this: “Go to sleep squirrel, go to sleep squirrel”.

I know. He’s a genius. Just like his Mama.

And that was it for excitement for the day. I’ll leave you with a picture of Eva cause, yknow, she’s cute and she’d never been on a swing before. Awwww…

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A Social Media Holiday

No, not a fun, facebook-themed trip away, but rather a break from all social media. For a week. Reckon I can do it? Nah, me neither….but see you on the other side!

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An Evening in A&E

In my last post, I promised to tell you about what we did on our Friday night. We had a rocking family trip out. To A&E! I told you it was fun!

So, Reuben fell off something at nursery. He says a plank, but no-one really knows. He split his lip. That was all fine. Later, he said that he was feeling dizzy and sick and he couldn’t lift his arms. That was all not OK. We phoned NHS Direct and on their advice went to A&E at St Thomas’.

And so began the waiting. The system wasn’t immediately obvious to start with, but once we found the ticket machine behind a wall, we took a ticket. And waited. It was like Argos in Hell. I’ve been to Argos in Peckham on Christmas Eve, so I know what the Hell branch would look like. A lot like a Central London A&E on a Friday night.

We had ticket 250. The 2 desks behind us were displaying numbers 248 and 249 but there was no-one behind either desk. Someone came back. Hooray! They saw someone else. Boo! What number ticket could these people have that could possibly be between 249 and 250? Were there fractions?

Eventually, we were seen. It had been half an hour and Reuben had been jumping about, failing to look ill in the slightest. As soon as we were sitting down though, he pulled it out of the bag “I feel so dizzy. I feel sick”. All the time I was trying to talk to the nice lady. But at least we were registering. What? You thought we saw a doctor after half an hour? Noooo…this was just to say we were here and to gain access to the paeds section.

Once we were through the doors, things got a little better. There were toys! And a playhouse! But there were also other children and Reuben was not in a sharing mood. Luckily for him, some of them were actually ill and didn’t bother fighting back when he snatched toys. Don’t worry, he still got into trouble for snatching, head injury or no head injury.

By now, it was 9ish and Roo and all the other children were up past their bedtimes. Ever tried running an evening creche? Don’t bother – they were all on a knife-edge, permanantly close to meltdown. It was surreal. There was a small girl being sick, another with a bloodied ear and of course a schoolboy who’d broken his arm on a trampoline. There’s always one.

Then, we were seen again! By a very lovely nurse this time, who took Roo’s temperature and tried to get some sense out of him as to what had happened. “Is he delirious?” “No, he’s always like this”. She had pictures in her cubicle, and a pot of bubbles which Nathan blew for Roo to catch while Eva shrieked in delight. Once again, Reuben was not acting as ill as he could have been. Then it was back to the waiting room to wait for the doctor.

9:45PM, or bedtime+2.5hrs. Roo munching chocolate after severely flagging, Eva feeding after a big wibble, still waiting…..

At 10ish, Reuben had a major meltdown. Nathan took Eva, and Roo curled up in my lap sobbing “I want to go home. I want my bed”. I think it’s fair to say we were all feeling the same by that point. We’d spent a long time in a small, full waiting room and Roo badly needed some time out. So I suggested we go into the playhouse together,  which we did. Roo made us some imaginary beans on toast, and we watching Finding Nemo on the imaginary TV.

And just like that, he had his second wind! Well, more like a fourth or fifth wind by this point. He started charging around the waiting room, gathering the toys up into the playhouse and putting out pretend fires with his fire engine. Eva hadn’t slept all evening, so I paced up and down past the cubicles with her in the sling, trying to get her to sleep. No luck. Roo joined us, and hopped on the leaves on the floor until….we were called!

The doctor looked Roo over, which he loved cause it was just like Dr Ranj on CBeebies. He wriggled and roared like a lion when asked to, hopped on and off the bed and generally behaved like a child that had no need of an A&E department. After three hours in aforementioned department. Unsurprisingly, the doctor said he was fine but that we’d been right to bring him, Phew! I’ve been brought up to respect doctors and so have a fear of Wasting Doctors’ Time, but she agreed that a 3-year-old with a head injury and dizziness needed checking. Then she prescribed a litre tub of ice-cream for me and Nathan, with sides of crisps and beer. Or maybe we prescribed those ourselves…..

So, a fun place to spend an evening. There are lots of things around the place to try and keep children entertained, but three hours with two small children in a small room is always gonna be a tough one. Thanks to the doctors and nurses who saw us – you were all lovely. We’ll see you next time he falls off something…

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A post-baby social life

It’s Saturday Night. I’m blogging this from a groovy Soho bar, where I’m sipping cocktails so trendy that no-one has ever heard of them, and later I may shoot some tequila off David Tennant’s chest.

I took that too far, didn’t I? You got me. I’m at home, watching Alex James and Phil Daniels face off against the Cheeky Girls on “Pointless Celebrities”. Thrilling stuff. But that’s OK, because we have already been out partying today. A real party with champagne, posh cake and fireworks. It just so happens that it was a 3-year-old’s birthday party but that’s besides the point. It was Konditor & Cook cake! The point is that we have a baby and a preschooler and we’ve been to a party today. And you don’t yet know what I did on my Friday night, but it’s a blog post in the making and trust me, it was rocking.  This, my friends, is a post-baby social life.

I don’t want to sound like I’m showing off. But I’m a passionate believer in the importance of having a social life after having kids. I know I’ve mentioned this before, in the context of boozin’ with a baby (well, kinda) and also breastfeeding out and about, but hey let’s expand on this. I feel like unleashing some poorly-researched Pop Psychology on your asses.

In case you didn’t gauge this from the last paragraph, I am not a qualified psychologist. Heck, I’m barely qualified to be a mother. But I am a girl With The Internet and that means I can say what I like and you can choose to read or not. So, lumbering in with my postnatal size 40 feet, I’m going to tackle Postnatal Depression. See, I have a theory.

I might be wrong. But I believe Postnatal Depression is a separate thing to depression. As far as I (and Google) know, PND is hormonal and therefore biological. It’s something that happens to some women after birth and no-one exactly knows why. But I believe that a lot of women who are diagnosed with PND are actually just depressed, and it’s a result of circumstances rather than hormones.

What circumstances? Maybe feeling like they have no contact with the outside world, maybe feeling like their world has completely changed and their old life is sunk without trace, maybe feeling that their identity is tied up in being a Mother, whereas before they actually had a career and Did Things and now everyone judges them on how well they do this mothering thing when it’s really hard to do, especially at first. Maybe the breastfeeding support was so rubbish that they just gave up and now feel like they’ve failed at mothering before they’ve even begun and it’s just another thing that all these judgers are judging them on. Any of these sound familiar? I’m sure most experts would lump them all in together as PND and I know there’s a lot of crossover. But this big mass of things can be unpicked into individual issues. And individually, these things are solvable. Let’s go through it bit-by-bit. And I’m going to drop this weird third-person thing if that’s OK. Let’s go straight to second.

So,  feeling like your world has changed? It’s true. Having a baby does turn your life inside-out like nothing else.. Your sudden sole responsibility for this tiny thing is a shock to the system that no number of antenatal classes will prepare you for.  But that’s where contact with the outside world comes in. If you meet other shell-shocked mothers, you will soon realise that you are not alone. True,there are things you can’t do just after having a baby. I’m not suggesting you ditch the baby and go out dancing at a week postpartum. Well, unless you feel like it. But there’s a lot you can do with a baby in tow. And anyone who says you shouldn’t or couldn’t isn’t worth listening to.

Here’s a shocking fact for you. In half a year of having Eva, I’ve only ever left her to go to Tesco and once to go to Bravissimo. She is the archetypal product of Attached Parenting – a “clingy” Mumma’s Girl. But dya know what? I don’t mind too much. When Reuben was Eva’s age, I was desperate to go back to work, but this time I don’t mind having her with me around the clock. She’s an easier baby. Whether that’s because of AP or just a co-incidence, we’ll never know. But for now she goes where I go and that’s OK. Why? Because it doesn’t stop me doing anything I actually want to do. Do I want to go clubbing? Nah, can’t be arsed. We only decided to have kids when we realised we were getting to old for all that. Do I want to go out drinking all night? No, I still have Reuben to deal with tomorrow and that’s not easy on no sleep. Oh, and I am a total lightweight since having Roo even when not breastfeeding.

So what do we do? Well, I have a whole other post brewing on me and Eva’s adventures while Roo’s at preschool, so I won’t spoiler that too much. But when Roo’s around we do pretty much what we did before Eva was born – we go to playgroups, we go to the park, we go to the cafe and eat cake, we go to museums…you get the drift.  We go to parties that start at 2PM. We attend childless friends’ birthday lunches and picnics but not dinners. We go to weddings and leave early.

But mainly it’s parks and playgroups and stuff. We’ve been blessed with some good parent-friends to do this kinda stuff with, but finding those friends has sometimes taken effort. It’s meant going to playgroups where I haven’t known anyone, meeting strangers from the internet (in public places, obv), accepting invitations from people even when I’ve been feeling shy and tempted to stay home and watch Project Runway. Second time round, it’s easier cause you already have some of those people in place and if you’re lucky, they may be sprouting second children too. But in London, people move away all the time and you have to start again.

You may be reading all this and thinking I’m being patronising and obvious – “just go out and make some friends, it’ll be fine”. Sorry if I come across that way. I know it isn’t always easy. It just helps so much to have other people around who know what you’re going through. Even if they’re virtual ones. If you’re in any way considering weaning your baby in a baby-led way, visit this forum. It’s saved my sanity many times and I’ve even made real-life friends there. Whatever our parents’ generation may think, there is nothing sad about making friends on the internet. It’s just the 21st century way. You’re reading this, so I assume you’re at least slightly internet-savvy.

But what about those lonely early days when you don’t know a single soul with a baby? It still pays to go out. When Roo was tiny and kept us up all night, I would take him to Tesco every day in the knowledge that going for a walk would send him to sleep. I just needed to see that life carried on outside the confines of our house. Later on, we got a lodger, which handily provided me with some adult company when Nathan was at work (she was a student, we’ve had various others since). Roo and I would sling up and go and meet working friends in their lunchbreaks. Sometimes we even met Nathan if we were desperate. We went to baby cinema on our own (more on that in another post). Even now, whenever I feel myself skirting round the edge of despair (and every mother gets close to that sometimes), I get out of the house. Doesn’t matter where. Doesn’t matter if I end up buying Roo junk food at the newsagent as an incentive for walking there. It’s just good to get out.

Of course, this is all strictly voluntary. It’s what works for me, and I would be the last person to force someone to go out who wasn’t ready or didn’t want to. In fact, I rarely force anyone to do anything (unless it’s Nathan). Don’t call me Gina Ford. But I’m here to say you CAN do it. It may take some military planning. It may involve some parenting fails. Trust me, I will have done them all before you. But there are solutions to every fail. In London you’re never far from some shops, so if your baby poos through every outfit you have with you, you can buy some more (or put her in her brother’s t-shirt as a dress). You can buy nappies out and about if you’ve forgotten those. It will be OK. If you encounter a flight of steps you can’t get the buggy up, someone will help. Eventually. If you encounter a rude bus driver who tuts as you try and manoevure your pram, punch them in the face.

No, scrub that last bit. TfL WILL prosecute. Maybe just read my guides to bus etiquette and getting around London so you’re prepared. Feel free to ask me a question if any of it seems daunting.

I’ve rambled on a lot already. And I haven’t even talked about how to establish your post-baby identity or what to do if you’re struggling with breastfeeding/struggling with your feeling about having given up breastfeeding. But those aren’t my areas of expertise. Trips out with one or more child are my area of expertise. And getting out and about will help you feel like more of a person again, honest. It’s never going to be the same as doing a job you’re really good at and having a team of people jump to your every command, but it will give you something else in your life other than just feed-burp-change-feed-burp-change. It can be feed in Starbucks-drink Starbucks-burp in Piccadilly Circus-change on the steps of Eros next to a tramp. Or whatever suits you.

And on  the last point, take this home with you. You are great. Whatever milk (or gin) you’ve put in that baby’s mouth, it still loves you. It’ll REALLY love you if it’s drunk.

Hang on, scrub that. Again. The point was, your baby loves you and that makes you awesome. Pull on those Wonderwoman pants and step out of the door. You are slowly but surely getting your life back.

Posted in What I suppose you'd call "tips"....? | Tagged , , | 5 Comments

A Simple Guide to Bus Etiquette

Cause some people out there need it. I’ve touched on it before (here and here), but it seems like some of the 7 million Londoners are still unsure about it. Let’s go:

1) Whoever gets to the bus stop first gets on the bus first. That’s easy enough to understand, hey? But wait! This is a double edged sword, for….

2) Whoever gets on the bus first has to push their buggy past the pole so that the other person can fit theirs in. That means facing the window, not lengthways on. Diagonal is acceptable if you have a monster buggy and/or a potty attached to the handlebars.

3) To establish the correct buggy-order, we may need to communicate a little bit about who’s getting off first. Only a bit. Don’t feel like we have to talk all the way. I have facebook to check, after all.

4) If we establish we’re getting off at the same stop (woo! that’s a coincidence my Grandmother would be proud of), don’t feel like you have to wait for the bus to come to a complete standstill before even moving out of the seat. Here’s a GCSE-type maths question – if my buggy’s behind your buggy and I’m behind you and you only move you and your buggy at the stop, how much time does that give me to get off the bus myself? That’s right, minus forty-seven.

5) A seat next to the buggy spot would be nice, if there is one. If you’re in any way old, pregnant or disabled, I don’t expect you to move. But if you’re sitting on the outside seat, it’s nice to at least let someone past to sit down (yes, YOU! grumpy old Greek man! Who can walk perfectly well.)

6) (This one’s for Roo) If there’s a sinister looking man sitting next to the buggies with two phones, don’t repeatedly ask me “Why that man got two phones? You got one phone? Why he got two?”. I don’t know, Roo. Maybe he’s a drug dealer. Or he’s having an affair. Or he just likes having more than one phone  but please stop asking.

7) If you see someone look slightly unsteady (maybe they have a baby tied to them and a load of bags, or maybe they’re just using both hands to text and so not holding on…or maybe all three), it’s fine to extend a hand to steady them. When they regain balance (and have finished writing that text), feel free to take your hand back off their elbow. No really, thanks but…the moment’s over. Thanks again.

8) Are you a serial killer? The bus is not the place to share that information. Save it for Jeremy Kyle.

9) Do you feel like you’re about to be sick? The bus is not the place for that. Maybe that one’s more specific to the night bus….

10) (This one’s for me). I understand how confused you get by new things, Kate. I know it’s hard for you now that your contactless debit card stops your Oyster card from beeping, so you have to take it out of the purse in order to beep it. But an H&M gift card is never going to work. Even if you’re only going as far as Vauxhall, they just won’t take it. Keep working on it and you’ll get there.

So, I hope this has cleared up some confusion. All the nuts and bolts of just how you get that darn buggy onto the bus in the first place are covered in my previous post, here, but it’s nice to have a reminder now and then. Happy travels!
(For anyone who’s wondering, yes I DO feel better for getting that off my chest. Thanks for asking).

Posted in Rants | Tagged , | 2 Comments