Some Time for Me. Yes… Me!

If you’ve read my blog before then you’ll know how excited I am to have recently become an Auntie. You’ll also know that my brother and his wife (and therefore obviously my new nephew!) live in France so unfortunately meeting the newest member of my family wasn’t as simple as popping in with a casserole.

Just before my nephew was due to arrive I told Mr C that I’d like to go and visit my family in the New Year. It would mean he needed to take a couple of days off work to look after the boys but I think he liked the idea of getting them to himself for a while! However, as my trip approached he started to worry about looking after both of them on his own for 4 days. The scariest part being that E (who is now nearly 2) is going through a clingy stage and will only go to sleep if I put him to bed. There was a real possibility that none of them would get much sleep while I was away.

As the trip got closer I also started to feel a bit strange about leaving them. My 5 year old has slept over at his grandparents just a handful of times and my 2 year old has never been apart from me. But hey, I was desperate to meet my new nephew and I knew that whatever happened while I was in France, they would all survive without me!

France, Here I Come!

My adventure started out with a very early morning drive to the airport. I was in the car alone so I turned the music up LOUD. There were no nursery rhymes playing, I didn’t have to answer the usual million questions posed by my 5 year old – it was just me and the early breakfast show . I arrived at the airport grabbed my bag (oh yes, I had just one bag of hand luggage) and headed for security. It’s been 6 years since I’ve flown by myself and not had to deal with the hassle of carrying liquids/milk, folding pushchairs with one hand while holding a wriggly toddler and rude airport staff who could not care less that you’re struggling with young children. I breezed through security in no time (who incidentally were very friendly) and headed for a peaceful breakfast.

As I sat drinking my coffee I realised I had become that lady in the airport that I’ve been looking at enviously for the last 6 years. You know, the well groomed woman leafing through a magazine and casually browsing the shops. I read my book, drank coffee and waited to board – there was no one to entertain but myself. I’ll admit there were a few moments when I felt a little lost. Let’s face it I’m so used to looking after other people that just taking care of me was odd at times.

Anyone For Coffee?

During the flight I read and ordered a cappuccino. I didn’t particularly want another coffee but I was determined to enjoy it. If you’ve ever flown with young children then you’ll know that hot drinks are a no, no. Small spaces, hot drinks and grabby hands are a recipe for disaster. I arrived in France with my hair brushed, make up touched up and not feeling the least bit hassled. Amazing.

The next couple of days were spent catching up with my brother and sister in law and having many, many cuddles with my gorgeous nephew. It was quite strange getting up and having time to shower and get myself ready without being rugby tackled by a toddler or without having to pester my 5 year old to get dressed. I got to spend some quality time with my family and it was so nice to have them to myself! On the Saturday evening my brother and I stayed up until 4am chatting and drinking wine… I honestly don’t remember the last time we did that.

For those few days in France I felt like the old me again. Of course, I am still me at home but it’s a different version of me. I’m L and E’s Mum first and then I’m me second. For that short time I had a little bit of freedom and it felt really good. It made me realise how important it is to make time for myself. I’ve never really done that and honestly, I’ve never really felt the need to before.

When you have children people tell you to make time for yourself but for me, and I suspect many others, that simply doesn’t happen. Not while your children are very young anyway, there is far too much going on.  This trip away was such a lovely little holiday and a definite reminder that time for me is important too.

Did You Miss Mummy?

However wonderful my trip was, I did miss my boys! Listening to their voices on the phone was so strange… Because I’m always with them I hardly ever talk to them on the phone and they sounded so different. Thankfully they had a lovely weekend all together. Everybody slept well and I came home to a clean house, happy boys and dinner being cooked. Maybe they could have missed me just a little bit! Mr C enjoyed spending so much time with the children and as a result E will now settle just as easily for him as he does for me. So after a successful weekend all round, I’m now wondering where I escape to next!

I Thought it Was Meant to Get Easier…

I’m one of those parents who finds the whole baby thing really hard work and I’m much more comfortable once they reach the toddler stage. Perhaps it is because my first little boy always had trouble sleeping and I was permanently exhausted. My second son had reflux until he was ten months so the early days were spent covered in vomit while I constantly tried to find a position that was comfortable for him. I found them both so much easier once they reached six months and started responding and interacting with me; When I began to get smiles, giggles and hugs and when the boys learnt to move around. In fact, most people find it hard when their children start moving but for me it was a blessing. Both boys got extremely frustrated and would lie on their tummies waving their arms and shouting! Once they moved they were so much happier!

With my youngest now 20 months I definitely feel like I’m back in my comfort zone. Things are settling down nicely and the boys are beginning to play together and keep themselves a bit more entertained. I have more time to get things done, I even have more time to get myself ready in the mornings.

Wobble, Wobble

Now, just as everything seems to be running smoothly my 5 year old has what I can only call ‘a wobble’. He is a confident, popular boy who has been at school for 18 months and has always loved it. Suddenly he doesn’t want to go. I’ve spoken to his teacher who assures me he’s his normal happy self in the classroom and each night he comes home full of news and chatter about his day. However, getting him through the doors every morning is turning into a complete nightmare. He says the reason he doesn’t want to go is that he misses me. How can I argue with that? He just wants to stay home with me and his little brother. I suppose he’s going through a stage of emotional development but it’s so hard. I’ve had to explain that we have no choice, he has to go to school and he seems to understand that. But watching his sad little face as he waves to me every morning is breaking my heart. I feel like the Mummy from hell forcing him to do something he doesn’t want.

So, despite feeling safe in the knowledge that things are going well with my toddler, I’m experiencing new anxieties with my big boy. My confidence that things get easier as they get older has waned as I realise that the school years are introducing all kinds of issues that I don’t feel equipt for. It’s new ground and while all I want to do is give him a cuddle and let him stay home I know that we’re going to have to find a way to work through it. Parenting is a tough business and the hard work doesn’t stop once they’re weaned and out of nappies.

Whatever new challenges lie ahead, there is one thing that is for certain. As a parent you should never get too comfortable. Just when you think you’ve got everything sussed and things are going well, something always changes and bites you on the ass!

Merry Christmas

It’s been a busy few weeks with school plays, Christmas fetes, my birthday and the arrival of my beautiful new nephew. Now, Christmas is upon us and I actually think I might just have things under control. Presents are bought, cards sent, Christmas menu planned… I just have some wrapping left to do. Very organised!

Christmas is a strange time of year for me now. Up until relatively recently I always loved it but after losing my Mum a couple of years ago, things just aren’t the same. My brother and Dad live in different countries which means unfortunately I don’t get see any of my family over the festive season and I find it really hard. Most of the traditions and lovely memories I have of Christmas when I was growing up are sadly gone and they’ve left behind an empty space.

What I do have, is my two gorgeous boys who are beyond excited this year. My five year old is like a coiled spring, winding tighter and tighter as December has progressed, and it’s rubbed off on his little brother. We’ve done the visit to Santa, been ice skating, made Christmas lists, decorated the tree and with everything going on at school he is exhausted. I’m really hoping that once he finishes school we can have a little bit of calm before the madness of the big day descends. I can’t wait to see their happy little faces on Christmas morning; we’re just trying to decide what is the earliest we’ll let them get up and open their presents!

On Boxing Day we’ve got my husband’s family coming round and are cooking for ten(ish) people, which I’m really looking forward to. I think it’s fair to say that there will be a significant amount of bubbly consumed!

Whatever you’re doing, have a fabulous Christmas and a very Happy New Year. Enjoy the time with your families and try not to get too stressed. Embrace the chaos! My New Year’s resolution is to try to find more time for my blog. The intent is certainly there but whether I’ll manage to squeeze it in is another matter entirely!

Merry Christmas from Mum’s The Word!

A New Job for Mummy

Today I became an Auntie, and I am feeling right up there on cloud nine at the moment. My family is small, scattered across a couple of countries and we seem to have suffered a fair amount of loss over the last couple of years. I’m very lucky to be blessed with two beautiful boys but today has undoubtedly brought something new to my life. Today a new little baby was born who is a tiny piece of me. He might grow to look like me, or to share some of my personality traits – or he might not. But some of my blood runs through his veins and today a little piece of my heart became his and his mine, forever.

I hope I’m going to be a fabulous Auntie; I’m certainly going to try. Obviously I love my own boys dearly but being a parent brings endless responsibilities. My new nephew won’t need me to make sure he eats a balanced diet or gets enough sleep. He won’t need me to teach him table manners or nag him to do his homework. He will need me to read to him, play catch with him, make him giggle, spoil him and not worry about all the everyday dramas that parents have to deal with. I get to do all the fun stuff, to be the cool Auntie who brings him English chocolate, encourages him to jump in muddy puddles and lets him stay up late.

What fun this new business of being an Auntie is going to be. You are going to love me my little man, and I am already completely in love with you.

Breastfeeding – Is Money Really the Answer?

In light of the recent press coverage regarding giving financial incentives to encourage women to breastfeed, I’ve been thinking that monetary rewards are simply the wrong way to address the issue. With around half of all mothers in the UK not breast feeding at all by their 6 week check up, there must be better ways to promote breastfeeding while supporting new mums.

My oldest son was born in Dubai and I wasn’t pressurised to breastfeed at all. In fact I had to specifically tell the nurses at the hospital not to give my baby a bottle of formula! There was very little support available after his birth but thankfully he took to feeding with no problem and I carried on past the 12 week goal I’d set for myself. I was comfortable feeding him wherever and whenever I needed to as so many women there, of all nationalities, breast fed their babies.

We moved back to the UK when I was pregnant with my second son and it was a real eye opener for me. I planned on breastfeeding again as it had been straightforward for me first time around but I was definitely surprised by the difference in the attitudes of both health care professionals and other mums. In Dubai there was little or no pressure to breastfeed and yet most mums I knew chose to do it. Here in the UK there is incredible pressure (bottle feeding isn’t even discussed) and yet it seemed hardly anyone I knew was breastfeeding. I saw very few women feeding their children in public and I started to worry that I’d be stared at. I also heard horror stories of women being asked to cover up and leave cafes etc because they were offending people.

I was very lucky again and I had no problems breastfeeding second time around. It’s a good job really because after being discharged by the midwife I had very little support. The breast feeding advisers (who are supposed to check how you are doing) only sent me one text message. I didn’t even get a phone call or a visit, which I know is probably down to a lack of funding.

When my son was a couple of weeks old I got a nasty bout of mastitis which I managed to (painfully) feed through, aided by a strong dose of antibiotics. Afterwards my health visitor actually said to me ‘So what do you think you did that caused it? Was your bra to tight?’ Seriously, I could have punched her! How on earth is that helpful or supportive?

I did attend a ‘Baby Bistro’ morning for breastfeeding mums and although there were some lovely ladies there, I disagreed with a lot of what was said to new mums. Everybody was encouraged to feed on demand and it was stressed that routines just don’t work. I’m sorry but that is simply not true. While I don’t suggest a strict, minute by minute, Gina Ford style routine, my boys both fitted in loosely with EASY (Eat, Activity, Sleep, Your time). They were hungry boys (in the 95th percentile for their first year) so they fed every 3 hours but I certainly didn’t spend the whole time with a baby feeding. It also gave us a little bit of structure to our day. The health visitor didn’t agree and didn’t want me to share what worked for us. Guess what? Babies are all different and there is no one perfect way to raise them.

As for my concern about feeding in public, happily, there was no such problem. Sure, there weren’t many mums doing it but I never received so much as a sideways glance, a scowl or a negative comment from anybody.

I did however have a few issues with some other mums. Whenever it came up that I was breastfeeding anybody who wasn’t found the immediate need to explain to me exactly why they didn’t do it. Most were incredibly defensive and I think that is really sad. The huge pressure put on mums to breastfeed means women can be made to feel inferior if they bottle feed and then find it necessary to defend themselves. It’s an issue that has managed to turn women against women – at a time when you need all the support you can after having a baby!

I once walked into the baby clinic and a lady was bottle feeding her daughter. About ten minutes later I started feeding my son and the lady proceeded to whisper loudly to her friend that ‘urghh’ she could never do ‘that’ and that breastfeeding was selfish because it meant her husband wouldn’t have been able to feed the baby! Seriously, I would never have felt the need to comment on her bottle feeding and yet she thought it was acceptable to talk like this right next to me.

I think there is far too much pressure on mums. What is wrong with midwives saying to a mum-to-be, “Have you thought about how you’re going to feed your baby? Here are your options…” Discussing the pros and cons of breast and bottle feeding with each individual would surely help a mum decide what is best for her, and her baby. That way mums would be able to make an informed choice and hopefully be happy with the decision they come to. Pushing people so hard in one direction is bound to send some of them running the opposite way. If a mum doesn’t want to breast feed then offering her some vouchers after 6 months isn’t going to persuade her. So instead, how about using that money to help support those who are breastfeeding and struggling with it instead? The proposed new voucher scheme must feel like a real slap in the face for those who want to try to breastfeed but, for whatever reason, can’t.

So, maybe we could all ease off a little bit? How about giving mums all the information they need so they can make practical choices about feeding their baby. Maybe we could even try to be a bit less judgemental and a bit more supportive of each other. And instead of offering financial incentives as encouragement to mums, how about using that money to improve the after care and support given to those women who want to breastfeed, regardless of their outcome at 6 months?

The School Run

This morning was the first day back at school after half term and the short walk to drop off my five year old once again left me exasperated. It seems every journey leaves me feeling more and more frustrated by the selfish attitude of so many of the parents at my son’s school. From dangerous parking to driving too fast, are the days of considering others a thing of the past?

Our walk to school only takes about five minutes and should be a nice pleasant stroll down a quiet residential street. However, we live in a village and lots of the children live too far away to walk so there are always lots of cars around in the mornings. On a regular basis we see somebody (having already dropped their child off safely) driving away from school at break neck speed. They are clearly in such a desperate rush to get on with their day that they are oblivious to the safety of anybody else.

This morning one of those drivers bombed along the road and straight through a huge puddle, sending a giant wave of water across the whole pavement. My 5 year old only managed to leap out of the way and avoid a complete drenching because he’s used watching out for these idiot motorists. The driver either didn’t notice us or wasn’t bothered in the slightest, he simply sped away. Is there any need to drive so quickly or recklessly?

When we get near to school I have to navigate the pushchair through a maze of cars parked up on the pavements. I can usually only walk on one side of the road, the other side has cars parked so far onto the pavement that I can’t fit the pushchair through the gap. Cars also park on the corners of the road making it difficult to cross safely and some people even block the dropped curb at the crossing points. I’m sure these parents would argue that they’re only parked there for a minute or two but is it really such a hardship to park a few more metres away? Although it can be difficult for me to manoeuvre the push chair I really feel for one of the Dads at school, he uses a mobility scooter and some days it is just impossible for him to get to the gate.

Once we arrive at the gate there is often a group of parents having a chat – no problem with that of course – except they stand right in the gate way and then look surprised when you say ‘excuse me’ and they have to move. For many of them it can’t be that long since they used a push chair and yet they seem annoyed at having to interrupt their conversation and move. Recently the pushchair actually tipped right up as I had to bump it down a curb to squeeze past; my 18 month was only saved from a tumble by his harness!

So, when did we become so selfish and wrapped up in our own lives that we stopped considering others? The school regularly reminds parents to drive slowly and park safely but for many it seems this message never sinks in. Are people in such a hurry that it doesn’t matter if they soak a Mum and her children walking along? Are conversations so important that we don’t even notice someone trying to get past in a wheelchair, or worse still roll our eyes when we have to move? I like to think that I’m considerate of others and that I’m raising my boys to be the same but perhaps we all need to open our eyes a little wider and start noticing the people around us again.

Fifteen Things I’ve Learnt as a Mum

I know a few people who are expecting babies and I’ve been thinking about the things I wish I’d known before I had children. Truthfully, I probably wouldn’t have listened to anybody who told me it was hard work. You learn it all for yourself as you’re going along, and pretty quickly! So instead, here are fifteen things I’ve learnt since becoming a Mum.

1. 7am is a lie in.

2. There is no such thing as my privacy any more. Bathroom doors do not stay closed under any circumstances – no matter how hard I try.

3. Eating cold food with one hand is a very useful skill.

4. A cup of tea does not stay hot for long enough but you should never, ever attempt to warm it up in the microwave – disgusting!

5. In a room full of babies I can recognise the smell of my own child’s dirty nappy.

6. Sometimes babies just cry. You might not be able to work out why, you might struggle to comfort them and you will probably want to tear your hair out. They will stop!

7. I sleep incredibly lightly. I hear every cough, grumble and noise they make.

8. Six hours of sleep IN A ROW feels great. Sleep deprivation sucks (obviously) and turns me into a crazy lady.

9. I can make myself look presentable in ten minutes. Give me half an hour and I can work miracles.

10. Having children has completely derailed my emotions. I cry whenever I see a baby being born on TV (including when Rachel had Emma on Friends) and ads for the NSPCC, WarChild etc have me sobbing on the sofa.

11. First pregnancies are about looking after yourself and getting ready for the new baby. Second pregnancies are all about looking after child number #1 and leaving everything else until the last minute.

12. Often there are not enough hours in the day to do everything. Something has to give.

13. I am turning into my mother. Despite being sure that I wouldn’t, l regularly say the same things she used to say to me. Yesterday, for example, “I don’t know why I bother spending hours cooking you a healthy meal”. I can almost hear her saying the words – oops!

14. My handbag is no longer my own, instead it’s full of nappies, snacks, drinks and toy çars.

15. It’s taken having children for me to really understand love. When I look at their beautiful faces I know without a doubt that I would do anything in the world for them.

I had no problem coming up with fifteen things I’ve learnt about being a Mum, in fact I could easily have written a list of 100! Hopefully I haven’t scared off any Mums-To-Be in the process. Parenthood is definitely a steep learning curve but I wouldn’t change a minute of it.

The Curse of the Tired Child

At the moment my 5 year old looks pale, distracted and his eyes are slightly glazed. Is he coming down with some horrible bug? No, he’s tired, really tired. In fact he is exhausted. Despite having a good night’s sleep most nights, going back to school after the summer holidays has completely wiped him out. I’m sure that being one of the youngest in his year plays a big part in his tiredness and I’m already counting down the days until half term when he can wind down and catch up. Let’s face it, tired children can be a nightmare.

Both of my boys are dreadful when they’re tired. My beautiful, smart, happy 5 year old gets grumpy, completely stops listening to me and develops an attitude worthy of a sulky teen. He becomes a totally different child. E, at 17 months, is a bit more obvious and his tired tantrums are at least predictable, if no less taxing. He trips over, screams and cries and sucks on his thumb ferociously for comfort. If they’re both really tired then it makes for a very stressful couple of hours before bed time.

When L was first born I had no idea how difficult it would be to get him to go to sleep. I thought babies just drifted sweetly off to sleep when they got tired. This wasn’t the case with L, he used to fight sleep all day long. I tried desperately to rock him and sing him to sleep before he turned into a screaming, overtired mess. We had lots of quiet time trying to wind down before naps and eventually, when he was 10 months old, even resorted to a short spell of the ever controversial ‘cry it out’ technique. L cried a lot when he was very small and now I realise much of it was because he wasn’t getting enough sleep and the poor little monkey was exhausted. As soon as he started napping properly in the day time he was a much happier child and I was a much happier Mummy.

When E was born I was determined he’d sleep better than his big brother and became an expert at spotting his tired signs and getting him into bed as quickly as possible. As a result he always napped really well and I got some much needed time to myself. Unfortunately it still took him a long, long time to sleep through the night!

I’m a big believer in ‘sleep breeding sleep’, the more they have the better they sleep. If my boys have a late night it’s very rare that they sleep late the next morning to catch up. They still bounce out of bed at 7am (if I’m lucky) raring to go. So I try to get them into bed at pretty much the same time every night, whether it’s a week day or the weekend, to make sure they get enough sleep and to minimise the amount of melt downs I have to deal with.

With three and a half weeks left until half term I know I’m going to be greeted with quite a few more sullen looks across the dinner table, I’m going to have to ask L at least three times to get himself dressed in the morning and I’m going to have to get used to his pale little face staring back at me. So, roll on half term when I get my wide awake, pink cheeked little boy back. And I know that the way the months and years are flying past, in no time at all I’ll be blogging about having to drag lazy teenagers out of bed in the mornings.

Back to Me

We were about to dash out to school earlier this week when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I was a little surprised and stopped for a second. The surprise was that the reflection staring back at me actually looked like me; Perhaps a slightly tired, slightly harassed version of me, but definitely me. My hair was clean and straightened, I was wearing make-up and I was in a new pair of jeans. I think it was the first time since E was born, almost 17 months ago, that I’ve looked or felt anything like the pre-baby me.

When you have a baby your life changes in an instant and you often find you have little or no time for yourself. For a while you lose yourself in nappies, feeding and taking care of this amazing new little person in your life. You always take second place and even squeezing a shower into nap time can seem like an impossible task. Whoever said that babies sleep all the time? Mine certainly didn’t.

After L was born I breastfed every 3 hours for what felt like forever and I could hardly fit in eating and washing, let alone a trip to the hair dresser for a trim. There were times I felt like I’d never be myself again, but of course I was. The overwhelming, all-consuming job of motherhood finally gets easier and you also get better at organising your time and making the most of every spare minute. For me, it took just over a year to feel ‘normal’ again. I’m sure there are other Mums who manage it sooner but for me those first 12 months were all baby and very little Mummy.

By the time I had my second little boy I was more prepared for the upheaval and I also knew that it was temporary. I had my hair coloured a little darker (less maintenance), resigned myself to no ‘beauty treatments’ (I’m talking about using a hairdryer and painting my own nails, nothing flashy!) and switched my shower time to after the boys went to bed so Mr C would be at home. I think I had more realistic expectations second time around. And while I knew that eventually I’d find time for myself again there were many occasions I looked in that very same mirror and sighed. What I saw was an exhausted Mum with a lined faced, bags under her eyes and untidy, thinning hair. I could barely remember what I looked like before.

Even at my most tired there were a couple of things I couldn’t bring myself to compromise on. I’m the kind of girl who can’t go out without makeup; No one wants or needs to see me barefaced on the school run so I always squeezed in foundation (the easy compact style) and a quick coat of mascara. I also really need to wash my hair every day and some days that was downright impossible. Lots of mornings I relied on dry shampoo and it was an absolute lifesaver for me.

Slowly over the last couple of months I’ve noticed that I have a few extra minutes here and there and most nights after 7.30pm, the evening is mine. I’m pretty sure I still smell of Sudocrem rather than Chanel but my hair is highlighted, my toe nails are painted and I’m wearing clothes that are definitely not suitable for breastfeeding. I’ve even just treated myself to a lovely pair of shoes in preparation for Christmas. That should be fun, it’s been a while since I’ve walked in heels! I am definitely feeling like me again, and it’s good to be back.

Under Pressure

An old friend of mine recently had her second child and is asking for advice on how to keep her 2 year old entertained while she’s feeding her newborn. She’s worried that her son will end up watching too much TV while she’s busy taking care of the new baby. Her situation is not unique, I think we all have moments where feel we can’t manage to do everything as well as we’d like and we fall short of our self-imposed perfect parenting standards. It made me realise how much pressure we put on ourselves; why do we think we have to be perfect?

The pressure to be a good mother starts before your baby is even born. Once you find out you’re pregnant your diet and lifestyle are suddenly dictated to you and this is re-enforced by what is seen as socially acceptable. You are harshly judged if you dare to stray from the pregnancy rules. Pre-natal classes talk about drug free births and the importance of starting breastfeeding and bonding straight away. It’s no wonder that when your beautiful baby arrives you already place high expectations on yourself about what kind of mother you will be.

When my oldest son was born I read lots of books and websites about how much sleep he should get and how much he should be feeding; he didn’t seem to fit in with any of it. I worried massively that all my friends were much better mothers than me. When my second little boy was born I was more confident and knew that every child is different; there is no set formula for raising a baby. That’s not to say I didn’t (and still don’t) have my moments. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor crying because I couldn’t get E to go to sleep. Mr C had taken him out for a drive and I felt like a complete failure. Believe me, as I sit writing this I can see how crazy the whole situation was.

Increased access to the internet and social media is surely another factor contributing to the unrealistic pressures we impose on ourselves. We are bombarded with photos of celebrity Mums fitting back in their skinny jeans just a couple of weeks after giving birth, or Tweets about being a ‘natural’ and how amazing motherhood is. And we all have that Facebook ‘friend’ who manages to make us feel inferior with their regular smug status updates about their perfect [fake] life.

As a parent there is always something to feel guilty about, something you aren’t doing ‘by the book’, and there are many, many books out there. If you’ve ever tried to fit your baby into a Gina Ford routine you’ll have realised that it might be workable, if you don’t have to do anything else but take care of your baby. No shopping, no school run, and certainly no working! Real life just keeps getting in the way.

So, my friend definitely needs to give herself a break. I doubt very much that her 2 year old is going to mind an extra couple of episodes of Peppa Pig while she is feeding her new baby. Those hectic first few weeks soon pass. Most of us do the best we can to bring up happy healthy children and now and again we have to admit we can’t do it all, not all of the time. There is no perfect, text book way to raise a child and most of us muddle through, learning as we go. ‘Muddling Through’, now there’s a good name for a parenting book!