National Portrait Gallery – 27/11/12

Posted on November 29, 2012 by katese11

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)

Posted in Token attempts at culture (museums) | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

London with a Tiddler

Posted on November 27, 2012 by katese11

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…

Posted in What I suppose you'd call "tips"....? | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Experimental Sound Art with a Toddler

Posted on November 21, 2012 by katese11

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)

Posted in Just wandering.... | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Chasing the ducky boat

Posted on November 19, 2012 by katese11

 

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

Posted on November 11, 2012 by katese11

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!

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

An Evening in A&E

Posted on November 11, 2012 by katese11

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

Posted on November 10, 2012 by katese11

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

Posted on November 7, 2012 by katese11

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

Brunswick Park – 01/11/12

Posted on November 6, 2012 by katese11

Last week had a theme running through it. Friday saw us mooching around the Brunswick Centre, prior to our trip to Coram’s. Thursday was a jaunt to Camberwell to Brunswick Park. Who is this Mr Brunswick who’s splattered his name all over London? Or is it a Mrs Brunswick? Even “Brunswick Park” isn’t unique within the M25 – there’s a whole area of Barnet with the same name. Sadly, extensive research (aka Google) has failed to find the answers. Go on internetters….enlighten me!

We were back in Camberwell to see Roo’s friend Rufus, after our visit to Lucas Gardens a few weeks back. Lucas Gardens was a bit of a nostalgia trip for me, being right next to the flat we lived in as newlyweds. Brunswick Park, on the other side of Peckham Rd, was a complete unknown. Despite being a large park a few minutes’ walk away from our flat, we never went there.I guess that’s what life before kids was like – not so much hanging around parks in the winter.

But that was then, this is now. Once again, Roo and Ru had cabin fever, so slightly-chilly-park it was! And it was a perfectly nice park – a large grassy bit, tennis and basketball courts and – of course – a playground, with swings, two climbing frames and one of those inexplicable yellow spheres on a pole. Once again, I ask the internet – what are they? There were kids throwing things at it, so it could be a thing to throw stuff at. But that doesn’t narrow it down – this being Camberwell, it would be easier to make a list of things that kids didn’t throw stuff at.

A nice park then, if unremarkable. Apparently there will be a cafe coming soon, hopefully one in view of the playground so Rufus’ Mum and I can sit in the warm with our babies while the crazy boys run around. There is also apparently an albino squirrel called Boris who lives in the park, but I didn’t spot him. Maybe next time.

What is remarkable is that this was the birthplace of the “Zoom, zoom, zoom” game, now famous in countless homes around South London. OK, countable homes – ours, Rufus’, Roo’s friend Ayla’s. Three homes, I guess. It was created by Rufus’ Mum and it goes something like this – take the popular preschool song “Zoom, zoom, zoom, we’re going to the moon”. Replace “moon” with any other noun (e.g carrot). Giggle insanely. Repeat. It sounds simple but…well, it is. But the children went crazy for it. And we play it most days when Roo needs a quick pick-me-up. So there’s a tip for you right there!

VERDICT: A nice green park, not the most exciting but fine for a hour’s entertainment

More details here (official website)

Posted in Token attempts at fresh air (parks) | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Children’s fireworks in Corams Fields – 02/11/12

Posted on November 2, 2012 by katese11

If I told you that the words “parenting genius” had been applied to this day out, would that be raising your expectations to an unmanageable level? If I told you that those same words had been used with a question mark, would that be more the level you’ve come to expect from this blog? Good. Now read on…
Fireworks! Oooh! Aaah! Exciting! I like fireworks. I’ve made an effort to go and see them most years since we’ve been in London. 2007 was a year when we made more effort than usual. We were homeless at the time, having sold our Camberwell flat and not quite bought our current house. So we were crashing in a friend’s spare room in Stockwell. One Friday we’d been due to exchange but once again it had fallen through. I chose to deal with this by going to Primark straight from work and buying huge armfuls of clothes. Nathan dealt with it by going to the pub and drinking huge amounts of whiskey. I was on the bus home, round about Victoria when I got a call from Nathan’s phone from a man called Dave.

Dave told me to go to Southend with him and Paul, the IT technician from Nathan’s office. I didn’t know Dave. Neither did Nathan. But Nathan knew Paul and Paul knew Dave and Paul and Dave had persuaded Nathan to go to Southend with them. I had nothing better to do, so I jumped off at Victoria, went to a shop that sold boy clothes so I could add them to my Primark stash, hopped on the tube to Fenchurch St and bought myself an Angry Whopper. Then we all went to Southend for the night.

In case you needed this realllllly spelling out, this was before we had kids.

So we woke up in Southend the next morning, got the train back to London to go back to Stockwell to change, then to Finchley Central for my Uncle’s 60th birthday party, then to Battersea Park for a pre-arranged fireworks date with friends from church. Don’t ask me how or why we did all that, but we did. Here we are at the fireworks:

That is not just a picture, it’s an EPICture.

Luckily, the fireworks at Battersea Park were epic too. Not so luckily, the admission prices were even epic-er, so we’ve never been back. This year it was a tenner!

The next year, we went back to our old favourite, Brockwell Park. They were pretty good, as ever. Afterwards, we walked up Denmark Hill and back to Camberwell and a curry at Indiaaaaaah. I toyed with my curry and toyed with the idea of telling people I was pregnant. I didn’t. It was still quite new news at that point.

The year after that, our lives had been turned upside down, so we didn’t bother. Then, in 2010, it was Clapham Common, as Lambeth were too tight to put on more than one show. No buses were to be found at Oval, but a friend of ours was so we walked all the way to Clapham with Roo in the buggy, a metal rucksack carrier on my back and painful new boots. The fireworks were alright – a little “budget” that year. We went to get the bus home and whooped as we squeezed on to the first one outta there. We weren’t still whooping when we were still at Clapham Common half an hour later. Walking is definitely the way to get home from fireworks in London.

All of which brings us slightly raggedly onto the fireworks at Coram’s Fields today. My friend (C’s Mum) and I had deftly avoided transport problems on the way in by arriving at Coram’s six hours before the fireworks were due to start. And staying there. There are a host of reasons why we did this, but the upshot was we spent a full day at Coram’s and hung on for the fireworks at 5:30pm. It was quite surreal, playing on the aerial runway as it got darker and darker and having tea at Kipferl, the Austrian cafe in the corner. Some would say that planning to spend seven hours in a playground when it’s approximately seven degrees outside is madness. Others would say it’s “parenting genius”. Or if you want to be exactly exact “parenting genius?”

So, this is how you spend a full day at Coram’s. Arrive around 10:30. Visit Waitrose and pick up lunch and snacks. Meet friends. Run around in circles going “aaaaahhhhhhh” (mainly Roo and C doing this, not the mothers or babies). Take 3-year-olds to toilet. Eat picnic lunch at 12:00. Play on the aerial runway. Round around in circles again. Get friend to buy your hot chocolate because your extremities are beginning to ice over. Take 3-year-olds to toilet. Eat fruit. Rain starts at 14:00 – hastily bundle children into cafe for star biscuits and pineapple juice. Wonder why they both chose pineapple juice when neither of them have ever shown interest in pineapple juice before. Feed babies. Rain stops. Chase after boys as they run in very big circles around the whole playground. Take 3-year-olds to toilet. Back to the cafe at 16:00 for boys’ dinner (sausages and a hunk of bread, plus ketchup). Feed babies again. Chase after boys again. Notice it’s getting dark. Take 3-year-olds to toilet. Find a spot and wait for fireworks. Buy glowsticks.

Or something like that. I forget. There was some feeding, a lot of boys eating and going to the toilets, a lot of playing and one nappy change (not for Eva, sadly. Poor girl). As it got darker and more crowded, I got steadily more paranoid about losing one of the boys as they ran about. There were a LOT of people there, and a lot of small children. So we bundled them into their pushchairs and at 17:25 we were positioned and ready.

So, what should happen next….Eva waking up and demanding a feed? Seems unlikely. But unlikely as it seems, that’s what happened! So I sat in the mud at the base of a tree and fed her quickly while those extremities froze again. She finished just in time for the countdown and then WHIZZ! BOOM! BANG! SHANG-A-LANG! The fireworks were off!

We rapidly changed spot as most of them seemed to be behind a tree, but once we moved, the boys just stared in rapt awe at them. They weren’t the most spectacular fireworks ever, but they were pretty good and definitely enough to impress a pair of 3-year-olds. Eva screamed throughout, maybe because of the bangs or maybe cause she felt her feed had been unfairly truncated. I took her off to check her nappy but it seemed clean enough so sorry, still no fresh nappy for you Eva.

The display lasted 20 minutes or so, and there was a small wait to get out. Once we got through the gates the crowds dispersed a bit and we dived straight down Lambs Conduit St. We had vaguely thought about getting a bus, but there were people everywhere so we just decided to walk to Waterloo where C’s Mum could get a train and I could pick up a bus. It was a nice walk, not as far as I’d expected and pretty bracing. I was still wearing four layers and a baby who was also in four layers so by the time I got on the bus I had a face like a small radiator. I think people were staring. I didn’t care too much. I had taken my boy to the fireworks and that’s what mattered. He woke up briefly when we got him home and put him to bed, to murmur something to Nathan about how much he liked fireworks. And that makes it all worthwhile. Didn’t even have to go to Southend.

VERDICT: A nice early start, which makes it easier for small children and an impressive enough display.

More details here (official website)

Posted in Creating precious childhood memories or something (days out) | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments