Fitness Friday :: the Milkman does the Great Scottish Run and Zombie Night Run '13

My exercise levels have tumbled in the past couple of weeks. My back went out, as it often does, and with it my momentum. I've felt better this week, but apart from a fair bit of walking around Glasgow (does shopping count as exercise?) I haven't done a whole lot of much.  Guilt is starting to eat at me - goal #02 of my 101 things in 1001 days is to complete a couch to 5k training programme (and goal #45 is to take part in the Race for Life 5k), and my mind keeps straying to this.

I keep reading articles about the benefits of running, the enjoyment of running, the cult of running...but I honestly can't imagine getting in to it.  Of the smattering of times that I tried, I can't really say I liked it. But at least I can say that when I have tried I've at least been able to do it, as my brief venture into the world of bootcamp-style training showed me in July. I used to say that I couldn't run the length of myself, and admittedly whilst I struggle to run any sort of distance I at least managed more than I thought I could. But I want to do more, I want to rake in all the benefits the members of the running cult claim I will, and I want to enjoy the experience.

My motivation and inspiration for all this is the Milkman. To be honest, his nickname on here should be the Running Man, but I don't want to mess up my little milky theme I've got going on. Plus, I want to avoid the brutal connotations from the film. But he is such an inspiration for me to work on my fitness in general, and not because he nags me into it but simply by setting a really good example. And running is his thing.

Great Scottish Run 2013...the Milkman is in there somewhere

Over the years, he's gone from simply pounding the treadmill at the gym or street jogging, to building up a whole season of running events each year.  He started with a series of 10k runs each spring, and then a few years ago stepped it up a notch adding two half marathons each summer/autumn.  One of these is the Great Scottish Run, which this year was a bigger event than it's ever been before in the build up to the 2014 Commonwealth Games.  It was even televised, and so we finally got to see him cross the finish line (something we never manage in reality, as it's always too busy to get close!).  He wasn't keen on the course this year though, saying there were long stretches without many distractions or atmosphere.  We walked along the Broomielaw this week, which formed part of the course, and I could see what he meant.  It isn't the most picturesque of places, and isn't somewhere many crowds would be likely to gather to cheer the runners on.  The route just stretches out in front of you with no end in sight!  And I think that is a major reason why I struggle to get into running, because I would be equal parts bored and intimidated by a long course ahead of me.

The Milkman seems to be on the lookout for new running challenges.  Not being a runner, I thought the obvious step up would be a marathon.  But he seems to be looking more for excitement than endurance, and I can appreciate that.  It baffles me that on half marathon days I can have a little stroll about the shops, a nice cup of coffee and a cake, spectate for a bit...and in all that time he has been running.  For over 90mins, he runs.  To think of him running for double that amount of time makes me feel a little queasy...I'm not sure it's even natural for the body to be put through that!

not your average running gear

I think he's swaying more to the Tough Mudder sort of experience as a way to get his running kicks.  He got his first taste of that sort of run last weekend when he took part in the Zombie Night Run.  This was an event put together by the guys in the Helensburgh Round Table (who also organise the Helensburgh and Lomond Real Ale Festival, which I really enjoyed earlier this year), and was pretty impressive.  The concept was that runners were either zombies or survivors, and had to complete an 8k hill run through the forest...in the dark...through a lot of mud and obstacles.  Survivors had a five minute head start, and wore tags which the zombies had to grab.  It looked like a lot of fun, and I know the Milkman is hoping to do it again, but the photos sum it up better than I can!

I would love to be involved in an event like that, and I really want to be in a position where the Milkman and I can take part in runs together.  That is the thought that has got under my skin, the kick up my bum to get my act together and give a couch-to-5k training programme a proper shot.  I've found a couple of different ones, and whilst I guess they all work on the same principle I need to do some research and see if an app, podcast or playlist will be the best way for me to go.  I'll no doubt update on what I find!

Who inspires you to get fit?  Or maybe you're already at the Milkman's level - what's the most exciting run you've ever done?

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Thriving Thursdays :: Treasure Trails [Glasgow Cathedral murder mystery]

Last week was half term for the kids here, so Half Pint and I got out there on one of the few dry days and made like Taggart to solve a murder mystery in Glasgow city centre.  Don't freak out, no one actually died in the making of this day out.  This was for goal #83 of of my 101 things to do in 1001 days - Do at least five Treasure Trails.

Treasure Trails were something I came across when looking for inspiration for my 101/1001 list - they're themed walks with clues to solve, adding an element of fun to a day out and getting you to look closer at a place than you perhaps otherwise would.  We chose to do one close to home, the Glasgow Cathedral trail.

I'll admit, I was a little nervous about paying to download our first trail - I didn't know what to expect and the price is a little steep at basically £7 a pop.  I actually downloaded it during the summer holidays when we were at the Necropolis and Cathedral (you can read about that day out in this entry here), but we didn't end up using it that day as we didn't have enough cash to feed into the parking metre.  I wasn't going to let it go to waste though, and was particularly keen to do this one as it is an area of the city I know well after seven years spent studying there. That background knowledge maybe helped with some of the clues, but the trail is so well put together that I don't doubt you could follow it having never been there before.

The trail itself is easy to follow, there is no map reading involved and you simply follow the directions and clues from step-to-step.  That isn't to say there is no challenge here though - you need your thinking cap on and you have to keep your eyes peeled.  Half Pint and I walked past one clue completely and had to retrace our steps a bit, and we spent a good while on a detour in a church yard because we misunderstood a clue.  We also had to resort to Google at one point too!  There is actually a text line if you get really stuck, but we didn't need to use it.  The trail follows pavements and paths the whole way, and is fairly level save for a couple of hills so it isn't challenging.  It does cover two miles though, but there are plenty of places to rest or even stop in for food and drinks.

one of our finds on the trail

Even though I thought I knew the area really well, the amount of new things I discovered on our walk was impressive.  We also made some pit stops in the Provand's Lordship (the oldest house in Glasgow) and St Mungo's Museum of Religious Life and Art*, which aren't places I think I'd have ever visited had it not been for this trail.  Both were actually quite interesting (and free!).

One of the clues related to a building that is actually being pulled down, which is where my local knowledge came in handy as we were still able to solve the clue.  But as I said, I downloaded this a good few months ago and I know from looking in my local area that trails are updated and monitored - for example, Helensburgh has it's own trail but as the town is undergoing major regeneration works the trail has actually been taken offline for now.  I don't doubt that the current version of the Glasgow trail we did has either been updated or is currently offline now that one of the clues is compromised.

I was a little disappointed that there wasn't more fanfare when we finished the trail and solved the crime. You do get entered into a prize draw, but I would have hoped for some sort of follow on story or conclusion(why was she murdered?!). And I do think that there is a lot more that could be done with the website in terms of showing your achievements or interacting with other users who have also completed the trail too, to give it more of a community feel.

On the whole, both Half Pint and I had a really good time doing this trail.  It is something fun, different and I'm sure from a kid's perspective transforms a boring sightseeing walk into something a lot more exciting and memorable. There are trails all over our area of the country, and the UK in general.  I think they would be great either when sightseeing in a new area or - like for me and Half Pint - a new way to explore your own patch.  I definitely want to do more local ones, and will be checking for ones in any other places we visit.  I will return to my grumble about the cost though, and say that I'd probably do a lot more if there was a cheaper price tag!

Any other Treasure Trailers out there?  I'd love to hear which ones you've tried, and what you thought.

* I am a concrete atheist and not in the least bit spiritual, but even I took something away from this museum.  I learned something about the part different religions play in Glasgow, as well as refreshing my memory of RE lessons at school as to what different religions and cultures believe.  I think it's important to know these things, to understand and respect other people.  It would have been nice to see some non-religious belief systems - such as humanism - represented too though, if for no other reason than balance.

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Broody Tuesday :: Tick Tock Books [ My First 100 Words / My Big Truck Book]

You need only step into our living room to suss out that we are a family of readers.  Two floor-to-ceiling bookcases lean against one wall, stuffed with books for every member of the family.  I am a total book obsessive, so the biggest chunk of these is mine, and even then those are just the ones in my collection that I haven't read yet.  But the Milkman and the boys also have their own shelves - one of the first things I did after Mini Milk's birth was to dig out Half Pint's old baby favourites to be enjoyed again!

I want to pass my book addiction on to my kids (and it seems to be working so far with Half Pint), and so keep Mini Milk's books where he can reach them.  I want them to be just as accessible to him as toys, though he is quite hard on them so I may have to move some of the more delicate ones for now and build up our board book stash to fill the gaps!  Generally, all Mini Milk is interested in doing just yet is to pull them all off the shelf, and he is such an active baby that he doesn't often sit still long enough for us to read a full story together!  But they are part of his environment, and so that's a good start.


He does love to turn pages though, and recently has started to show an interest in two books in particular that we were very generously sent by Tick Tock books.  At first, I thought they were a bit too old for him so added them to his shelf with thoughts of coming back to them in a few months.  And I have to admit that as they aren't stories, I wouldn't have picked them for Mini Milk myself.  But...he loves them!  They have actually made me re-think the sort of books I would chose for him.  Looking back, some of his brother's favourite books were non-fiction picture books too - I remember one in particular which was shaped like a truck and even had wheels!

We've had the books for a good few weeks now, and Mini Milk will specifically bring them to us to share with him, or sit by himself looking through the pages.  He even recognises things in My First 100 Words - particularly the lovely bright images of foods or toys similar to his own - and I can see that this is helping him make sense of his world.  My Big Truck Book is by far his favourite of the two though, but I suppose that is to be expected when he has a mechanic, motor racing fans and petrol heads in his bloodline!

The images in both books are sharp, colourful and have a good variety of sizes, positioning and subjects.  I think this is the big grab for Mini Milk, as there is so much to explore on each page.  From a practical point of view they have good quality pages and must be sturdily bound, as Mini Milk fair flings them about and can be quite rough on the pages and they are still intact!

As Christmas approaches, I will definitely be looking at other similar books for Mini Milk.  The books by Tick Tock seem very good value and they have a lot in their range, so I think Santa may be looking to them for some inspiration this year, and in years to come.

I offered to review these books in return for our copies, but all views in this entry and in the blog in general are completely my own.

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Sanity Sunday :: Adam Buxton's BUG live at the GFT

There's no point in sugar coating this - I have been treated for depression on and off for more years than I can remember.  Currently, treatment status would be "on" but one of the best forms of helping me feel as if there is colour in my world doesn't come in the form of anything prescribed by my GP.  Finding things to smile about, getting out there and really living life - that is what is the best medicine for me.  My depression isn't something I shout from the rooftops, but at the same time it isn't something I feel I should hide.  It is what it is, and so occassionally I'll write these Sanity Sunday posts to either get something off my chest, explore an issue or celebrate the things that make me feel better.  And so this first post is one such celebration, as I got to see Adam Buxton doing his "Best of BUG" show live at the GFT in Glasgow.

I first discovered BUG in it's televised format on Sky last year, and was hooked from the first five minutes.  For the uninitiated, BUG is where Buxton shares some music video gems (though whilst some are gems for their creativity and artistic yums, some are just gems for all the wrong reasons) and sometimes dips into the quite frankly mental world of the comments left for them on YouTube.  All of this is done with Buxton's incredible delivery and comedic ability, and he also throws some of his own amazing music videos into the mix.  It's possibly the best thing I have ever seen on TV, and seeing it live was even better!

countdown to BUG!

Adam Buxton is an incredibly funny man, and unlike a lot of comedians he doesn't rely on shock or nastiness to get a laugh.  Obviously, he is poking fun at some of the ridiculous comments people leave on YouTube, but he lets their rudeness, arrogance or stupidity speak for itself.  His comedy doesn't leave you feeling uncomfortable, and I love not having to question my enjoyment.  He also knows how to tell a story, layering the details and building up to the punch line.  I could listen to him talk all night.

I thought the video selection was great.  That may seem an obvious statement given it was a "best of" and some of the acts (Bloc Party, Arctic Monkeys, Passion Pit) were straight from my play list.  But even when the style of music wasn't something I'd chose to listen to I was still captivated by the videos.  In every case it was a video that perfectly suited the music, not just chosen for the visuals at the expense of the audio element.  And comedy aside, that is what I love about BUG - it celebrates music videos as an art form, something that is getting more and more muddied when all that any of the music channels seem to want to show are videos with the most sex and the least clothing.

The Milkman and I went with my friend and her other half, and they all seemed to think the show was amazing (obviously...I wouldn't associate with people with poor taste), but argued it was maybe too music heavy.  They wanted more comedy with shorter video clips.  I totally disagree with that, because the music is the point and there are other Adam Buxton shows with different agendas.  I think the balance was spot on, and I was very sad when the final segment came to an end.

BUG is actually performed bi-monthly at the BFI Southbank - if I make a trip down to London, it will have to coincide with one of those performances!  I don't know what I'll do in the meantime, as I'm not sure if it will be coming back to Sky...how do I fill the BUG shaped void in my life?!

Any other BUG fans out there?  Join me in a fangirl/boy moment in the comments...

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Weight Loss Wednesday :: Diet Bet

I lost 9lbs in September. And I didn't do it with meal replacements, living on juices or popping pills. And for the first time in my life, I also didn't do it with Weight Watchers or any other slimming group. This is the second of three posts on how I did it (post one talked about the incredible online fitness instructor I've discovered).

When it comes to dieting, I always think that there is one tool that you simply can't do it without. You could have a personal trainer, your own low-cal chef, daily weigh-ins and a home gym...but none of it would get you the results you want without this other tool. All the trappings money can buy wouldn't stop you sneaking off to gorge on chocolate when no one was looking, they wouldn't give you the spark to push yourself ever harder physically, and they wont give you the momentum to make a permanent change to your life.

This tool is the fuel of any successful attempt to lose weight, get fit and live healthily. Motivation!

Everyone has their own motivations. I know I have a few different ones like getting back into my smaller clothes which are all packed away in my loft, or improving my long term health so I can be one of those incredible old people who still do all their own stunts. But like anyone on a long journey, I get tired. My motivation to slip into my size tens isn't so strong now that I've dropped a couple of sizes already, and now that I don't feel as obvious as a whale when walking down the high street the desire for change is less of a burn and more just a tingle. Of course, the knock-on from this droop in motivation is that my progress had ground to a halt. Actually, it had been reversing a little...some pounds had crept back on. Not cool.

 Looking for inspiration, I came across Cassey Ho and her Blogilates site. In the run up to the launch of her #Sweatember workout calendar, Cassey was also promoting something called a Diet Bet that she would be running alongside it. Diet Bet sells itself as "social dieting", but basically people can create games (which is what Cassey did) and participants join and basically pay to bet a set amount on themselves to lose 4% of their weight in the 28 day duration of the game.  If you manage to lose it, you share the money in the pot with everyone else who hits the target too.  In the Blogilates game there was $119,600 in the pot!

Now, I'm not a gambler. But I worked out what 4% of my weight would be and decided that it wasn't an impossible amount to lose in four weeks. That made the odds a lot better, and with my motivation failing me in every other form I decided to see if this could give me the kick I needed.

And what a powerful motivator money turned out to be! Not so much the chance of winning money, but the idea that if I didn't lose the weight I would instead lose the money I had bet on myself. I'm really watching the pennies right now, so there was no way I was going to let that cash get flushed down the drain simply because I couldn't say no to cake! Weighing in each week kept me focused, and I was really pleased with my progress. In the end, I smashed my 4% target by losing nearly 6% instead, which meant not only did I win my initial bet back but I also won nearly the same amount over again.

To me though, the money is secondary.  The real prize is being ale to say that I lost in a month more than I had gained in the months previous, and that I am now on the verge of being back at a healthy weight.  That means I am just 8lbs away from the goal weight I’ve had in my sights since Mini Milk was born last September.  Money can't buy that sort of prize, and the motivation keeps on giving once the game is over because my passion for weight loss has been reignited.  I would definately recommend getting involved in a Diet Bet to anyone who is struggling with motivation. Even if you don't win, you're bound to lose at least some of that 4% and any step towards your goal is surely worth at least a $25 bet!  I know I'll be taking part in another one soon, possibly in November, just to keep my efforts up...it would be amazing to be at my goal weight for Christmas!

What motivates you on a weight loss mission?  I'm always looking for tips, so feel free to share!

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Broody Tuesday :: Kids in Clubs

This weekend saw not one but two marathon events. There was of course the Great Scottish Run, which the Milkman took part in for his third or fourth year. But as this is a Broody Tuesday entry, I'm going to talk about the other marathon event - Half Pint's swimming Club Championships!

can you spot the one that isn't for swimming?!

Eight hours of swimming split over two days! Eight hours of sitting poolside, sweating it out in the mock tropical atmosphere with your bum numbed by hard tile seats just to see your child swim for a total of about five minutes! What's not to love?!

Actually, it isn't quite as bad as it sounds.  For anyone who has a child that has taken that step from swimming lessons to swimming at a competitive level (or indeed a child who has taken any passion to the next level), seeing them do what they love and do well at is a total joy.  It shows that all the shuttle runs to and from training, all the fees and money spent on kit, all the rearranged plans and times you say "sorry, I can't - that's a swim night" are worth it.

This is Half Pint's second championships - last year he walked his age group by scooping gold in four out of five events (breaststroke, butterfly, backstroke and his medley) with a silver in his front crawl, and being awarded the shield for being the fastest boy in his age group.  However, this year was tougher as he's gone from being a ten year old in the 9-10's to an eleven year old in the 11-12's.  There's a big difference between someone who's just turned eleven and someone who is soon to be thirteen, I can tell you!  We prepared him for the fact that this year would probably be more of an experience and chance to better his personal bests, rather than being about medals and trophies.  But he held his own, doing so well in his heat for the first event that he got put into the faster heat for the other four.  He came a steady fourth in all those faster heats, so although he only got participation medals he is chuffed to be the fastest eleven year old!

Now, I'm not someone who is a fan of watching sports.  And I'm not someone who can really get myself excited about how other people's kids get on (I know, I know - hardly team spirited, am I?).  But even I find those heart-thumping moments when Half Pint is actually racing exhilarating.  And actually, I like events like this as a chance to spy on him.  Not in some weirdo stalkermum way, but as kids get older more and more of their lives are played out away from your watchful eye.  Sometimes it's nice to be able to observe Half Pint interacting with his friends, handling himself in serious situations and just generally being him.  I'm always struck at events like this just how grown up he is these days, and I do think his swimming has played a big part in shaping the young man he is turning out to be.

I was featured in a national newspaper recently, in an article about mums with busy kids.  It was a positive article, and in my discussion with the journalist we got talking about how beneficial an extra-curricular commitment can be for kids.  I'll be honest, apart from it being something he enjoyed doing, I didn't really consider the benefits when I first let Half Pint try out for the team.  But now it's such a big part of his life (and an all-consuming part of the family's life too!), I can really see the impact it has had on him.  And that goes far beyond the physical and health benefits of a sport, or the confidence boost of a medal.  His ability to mix with a diverse range of kids - including those older than him - has grown, and I think that sets him in good stead for high school next year.  He's also had to navigate the world of competitions without me to guide him, which has built him up and boosted his ability to deal with pressure and new situations.  He even has a whole door of opportunities for study and career choices later in life thrown open to him that he may never have even been aware of.  The list is endless, when I sit down to think about it!  And if all I have to do is give up a few of my weekends - as precious as they are - to support him, then I don't think that's much to ask.  After all, it could be worse - at least swimming is interesting to watch, and is indoors!

Any other swim mums out there?  Or are there any other parents whose kids do activities outside of school?  Do you agree that there are benefits beyond entertainment or honing a skill?  Or do you think there are drawbacks?  I'd love to hear from you!

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Fitness Friday :: Pilates and Blogilates

I lost 9lbs in September. And I didn't do it with meal replacements, living on juices or popping pills. Plus for the first time in my life, I also didn't do it with Weight Watchers or any other slimming group. This is the first of three posts on how I did it (post two talks about a fantastic motivational tool I discovered).

Even though I have taken my eye off the ball recently in terms of my 101 things to complete in 1001 days, I managed to complete a task!

Goal #10 Take a Pilates class

the view from the yoga mat

Doing Pilates in a class format was really beneficial for me in terms of form and breathing. I took away a lot more from those two classes than I have from years of different workout DVDs. And an instructor behind a screen just can't give you the hands on training you get from being in the same room as someone. For example, I have been totally unaware all this time that my right hip dips considerably when I do things such as leg raises on all fours. I thought I was keeping my hips pretty set, but an instructor can give you real feedback. Perhaps this is why I sometimes feel as if my back has taken a hit from a workout, because I'm not correcting my natural wonkiness.

Unfortunately, the class I picked was run during lunch at my work, and I was the only person in the whole place who felt like getting some exercise on their break. After two weeks, it disbanded. But even though I was the only participant the instructor put me through my paces like it was a proper class. I thought it was pretty tough, and whilst I like to think it's because I was the only person she was focusing on, in reality she was probably going easy on me! I push myself more in classes than I ever would do working out at home, so I really felt it...both in terms of muscle fatigue and in terms of shame - my core and balance are appalling! Particularly in side-plank (or really anything that involved holding my weight on my side) I was wobbling and tipping over on to my back like a drunk tortoise! I guess that just shows that a combination of not pushing myself hard enough at home and being pretty sporadic with my efforts has meant that I still have a long way to go before I feel strong!

The class at work came along just as I was discovering the fizzy, bubbly, crazyhappy world of Cassey Ho and her Blogilates website. Gah, I love this girl!! She is gorgeous, has amazing hair, a body to die for, can work out like a machine, always has something positive to say, is wonderfully creative, has a great mind for marketing and is pretty darn smart. She is the only person in the world who can cheerfully talk about what colour she has painted her nails, whilst doing a round of ten sidewinder burpees. I am so envious that by all natural laws I should hate her. But I totally adore her. And I think the reason is because she is so committed to what she preaches - training mean and eating clean.

Cassey has more free workout videos than I could count (let alone do!) and I love how they are designed in a way that they could be done as short blasts when you are pushed for time, or combined for longer sessions, either pick'n'mix style or by following a series. And if you can't decide, then there is always a monthly calendar which Cassey puts together with links to the workouts she suggests you should do each day.


I started by dipping in and out of the beginners' calendar, but took the leap to commit to following her Sweatember (September) calendar almost to the day. Trust me, that's a big leap! She doesn't go easy, and some of her moves are insane (donkey kicks, anyone?!). But she is a great instructor, and as long as you like chatter then she can keep you motivated and distracted from the pain ripping through your shell-shocked muscles. The music isn't always my cup of tea, but pop music does have more of a place in her routines than indie does so I just let the cheese wash over me!

And trust me, this is the kind of fondue that is actually good for you - in just a month I can see myself making progress. I did her all-in-plank workout Playa Del Plank at the start and then again the other day and the difference was impressive. I also think my thighs are looking more shapely than they have looked in my entire life, and I actually have some definition in my upper arms. And I can actually see where my thighs stop and my bum begins, which is a new development for me!

I will end with a warning though! If like me, you have a partner or tween son kicking about, don't let them in on your secret weapon. Cassey may train you like a beast, but she isn't shy about flaunting her beauty and is a big fan of "booty shorts", so you may end up with an audience every time you hit play!

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Thriving Thursdays :: Jesus Christ Superstar :: Glasgow Hydro

The Milkman and I had a nice surprise through the post last week - tickets to see Jesus Christ Superstar.  We had totally forgotten that we'd ordered them! 

Now, I have to whack in a huge disclaimer here - I
know nothing about musicals.  I watch Glee, but something tells me that isn't exactly the same thing.  When it comes to a live stage performance where there is basically no spoken dialogue that isn't part of a song, I was a virgin until Tuesday night.

So what possessed me to buy tickets?  One word - Minchin.  Tim onlyagingercancallanothergingerginger Minchin.  I go all fangirl when I try to describe how much I adore this guy.  He's a genius.  I fell in love with him the first time I saw him on tv back in 2008 at the Secret Policeman's Ball, I've seen him live in both a dingy festival tent and in a concert hall with a full orchestra and he is always incredible.  The sharpness of his wit, his way with words, his voice...gah,brain melting.  Love him.

Sorry, I'll mop myself up off the floor.  But yes, the fact that Tim plays Judas was really the sole reason we bought tickets.  It was even through his Twitter page that I knew it was on at all.  I didn't know anything about the musical - seriously, I didn't even know that the storyline is taken basically straight from the bible.  You'd have thought the clue was in the title, right?

approaching the hydro

The other interesting part for me was that it was being shown in the newly opened Hydro in Glasgow.  I've watched this building emerge, so it was very cool to be seeing a performance in it on only it's second night of being open to the public.  Our seats were a couple of tiers up, and even though I am never bothered by heights (I'd even say I love them) I felt a bit nervous as we made our way to our places!  The scale of the place is incredible.  It does look a bit unfinished, with lots of exposed concrete, but I don't doubt that was the look they were going for.  The seats were suprisingly comfy too, despite looking like the soft of cheap plastic things people are always injuring themselves on in You've Been Framed clips!

The performance itself really impressed me.  As I said, I'm not a musical aficionado.  My view is simply based on one criteria - did I have a good time?  And yes, I really did.  At first I found it hard to get into the fact that everything was sung.  I was even getting a little irritated.  But something clicked about ten minutes in and I gave myself up to the momentum of the show.  And what momentum!  The show barely pauses for breath, and there are always so many things going on.    I loved how it was all staged on a staircase and kept very clean looking, with little touches of scene like the bonfire and pop up tents in the protest camp.  And Judas' exit was incredibly hard hitting.  The only part I felt my attention slip was the boardroom scene, though I appreciate it was a vital plot line element.  The finale kind of lost me a little too, as it all got a bit cheesy.  But I assume that was Jesus hallucinating in his torment, and it added some breathing space to stop things getting too heavy.

the stage is set...

The cast is incredibly strong, there wasn't one vocal that sounded weak or made you cringe when they couldn't hit a note.  I was most surprised by Mel C, who blew me away and kind of stole the show with I Don't Know How To Love Him (a song I actually knew...I just didn't know it came from this!).  Ben Foster, who played Jesus, was a bit too musical theatre for me at times (yes, I am aware that only a newb would criticise that in the context of musical theatre), but he sure can hold a note and I thought his portrayal had the right mix of arrogance and conviction.  And of course, Mr Minchin didn't disappoint - he brought the torment of a torn friend, the frustrations of someone who can see their ideals being muddied and the string of jealousy of someone left in the shadows.  And the guns of someone who's been working out!  It was strange seeing him do something so removed from what I love him for - and I have to say I far prefer his comedy - but had I not known who he was, I wouldn't have thought he was anywhere else than where he belonged. It was just a shame Chris Moyles was in it.  And I don't just say that because he's a sexist, self-absorbed twat.  I just felt his being there was a bit cheap, as he wasn't as strong as the rest of the cast.

After the hell of getting out of the Hydro car park, the Milkman and I had a good chat sparked by the performance.  Neither of us are even slightly religious, but we both have the same opinion in that we do believe a man named Jesus existed.  The fact he was the son of god and could perform miracles was probably either a myth perpetuated by himself or those around him, or urban legends that snowballed through the grapevines of the times.  Maybe everyone knew someone who knew someone who was at the wedding where the water turned to wine...just no one was actually there themselves.  Whatever the details, I think the fundamentals that he preached are very valuable - compassion, living a good life, not judging others.  Religious or not, those are all values that should be upheld by us all.  It's a shame the fat, middle aged git in a Fiat Panda who threw a tantrum in the Hydro car park missed that memo...

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A change will do you good

Just a quick heads-up to anyone who might be reading...a small audience, but a very valued one indeed.

I haven't abandoned the blog. I just had to take a step back from things as I've been feeling overwhelmed and quite blue lately.  Not that that has anything to do with the blog, but it's given me time to think.  I feel as if I'm making very little progress both in giving this blog an identity, or finding it a readership.  

The big wide blogging world is a bit scary to someone like me.  The Twitter conversations flash by too fast, the linkies seem to close before I even fire up the laptop, and I constantly seem to be reading blogs a week behind.  It's just yet another cool kids' gang I can't seem to fit into.  That hasn't helped the dip in my mood these past few weeks, so I had to take myself out of that headspace.

This blog began with the idea of a diet blog (hence the name)...but I fell off that wagon before I even got this place off the ground.  Then I tried to shape it around the 101 things I am trying to achieve in 1001 days, which is fun for me but probably not so interesting for anyone else.  My biggest hit counts have been for my mummy/family posts, which is great...except there are a lot of mummy bloggers out there, many of whom run rings around me both in terms of quality and prolificacy, not to mention their social media presence.

So what to do?  It was time to strip it back...why am I even blogging?  Well, I blog for various reasons.  First and foremost, I love it (I have kept a personal one since the internet first landed in my house back in 1999).  I love recording my life, getting my thoughts out, and writing for writing's sake.  I also blog to feel part of something, to have a base to refer back to when I go out reading all the other blogs that I love.  But no blogger can deny that they also blog to be heard.  I'm not talking about Big Brother "star" attention seeking, or even hundereds of followers on Twitter.  I just want to be read by people who get me, connect with people who get me, and make friends with people who get me.  Particularly when it comes to my role as mother, and various other interests (like blogging!) I don't have anyone in my daily life who is on the same page as me...and that can get pretty lonely.

In my peronal blogging, a 'hook' was never neccessary.  It was (and still is) simply like sharing your journal or diary with a select few others who share theirs with you in return.  Blogging in the public sphere is different, and I appreciate that.  So I'm going to try and focus this blog a little more.  It will still be a mummy blog, it will still be a blog about achieving little goals, and it will most definately still be my blog.  But it will have a more defined flavour, and hopefully that will give it a bit more of an identity.

Now I just need to find time to do it...

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No-Added-Sugar Carrot and Sultana Cake

As Mini Milk's birthday approached, I swithered between whether or not I wanted him to have cake.  I've tried to keep his diet quite healthy, making most of his meals from scratch and limiting processed foods, excess salt and added sugar.  I wasn't totally in love with the idea of going against all that in the form of a birthday cake.  So I decided to head to Pinterest for inspiration, and discovered that actually there are a lot of options for healthy cakes for baby birthdays!

One site in particular really impressed me - Homemade Baby Food -  and I wish I'd found it earlier as it has loads of recipes, not just for cakes but for so much more.  I had wanted to make a banana-based cake as Mini Milk adores them, but I had to go with what I had in the kitchen and our bananas were too yellow.  So I opted for the sugar-free carrot cake (2nd recipe down), but made some tweaks based on what I had to hand.

I was a big hit!  And not just with Mini Milk, who wolfed it down.  I loved it too, and it is the perfect tv-time treat for someone who is watching their calories and trying to eat clean.  Half Pint and the Milkman also enjoyed it, which goes to show that cakes don't have to be loaded with sugar and fat to be good.

In fact, it went down so well that I made it again tonight.  And this time I took photos, with blogging in mind!  So without further ado, allow me to present...

No-Added-Sugar Carrot and Sultana Cake

What you'll need...
250g [2 cups] plain flour
1tsp baking bowder
1tsp bicarbonate of soda
Optional pinch of salt
300ml [1 1/4 cups] water
225g [1 1/2 cups] sultanas
1tsp cinnamon
1tsp ginger
1 large carrot (grated)
100g [1/2 cup] unsweetened apple sauce

What to do...
Preheat the oven to 190c and grease your baking tin
In a saucepan mix the water, sultanas and spices together. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer for five minutes
Mix the dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, bicarb and salt if you're using it) in a bowl
Remove the saucepan from the heat, and stir in the carrot and apple sauce

I wish this was scratch-and-sniff, because this smells incredible!

Combine the wet and dry ingredients thoroughly and pour the mixture into your prepared tin

Bake until the top is golden and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean (for me this is about 35mins in a fan oven)
Allow to cool on a wire rack before cutting into chunks and tucking in!

And this recipe isn't set in stone. You could switch up the type of dried fruit you use, maybe even add some nuts or use different spices or add more carrot or even add some orange flavours in there too.

The first time I made this I used a loaf tin as I didn't have a cake tin to hand.  It sliced into ten generous servings, and using My Fitness Pal I calculated it to work out at 200 calories per slice.  I found that even half a slice with a cuppa was a nice wee treat.

Obviously ingredients vary, so if you are seriously watching your calories I suggest you use MFP's recipe builder to total the calories for your own version.

Let me know what you think if you give this one a try!  And if you've got any other healthy baking recipes I'd love to hear from you.

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My Baby Was Born On A Zebra Crossing :: when birth doesn't go to plan

When birth doesn't turn out the way you had pictured, it's not always easy to make peace with your experience.  That isn't to say that I was disappointed with my birth experience for either of my boys.  My babies arrived alive, healthy and with no real trauma for either them or me - there are a lot of women out there who can't say the same thing, so in the bigger picture I know I am lucky.  But when your birth experience plays out differently from your expectations, it can still take a while to wrap your head around what has happened.

I got pregnant with Mini Milk just a few months after we started trying for him, but while he was conceived fairly quickly he was many years in the making as we waited for the time to be right.  And those years involved a lot of worry and uncertainty about the state of my fertility after cysts robbed me of most of my ovarian reserve, culminating in basically being told not to leave it much longer.

In those years I saw many other births.  Actually, I did more than that - I delivered many babies.  My experiences as a student midwife taught me many things, but the biggest of all those was that that you can never predict how a birth is going to play out.  It made me even more of a realist than I had been when I had Half Pint, and I went into my pregnancy with Mini Milk with my mind wide open, no concrete ideas and the acceptance that a fluid birth idea is better than a inflexible birth plan.

But I would be lying if the idea of the kind of birth I'd like wasn't very much what I had my heart set on.  I knew I could cope with minimal pain relief from my experience of having Half Pint on just gas and air, so that wasn't an issue.  What I pictured was a chilled pool birth, with my choice of music playing in the background.  A simple idea, and one I accepted may not happen if by chance I went into labour at the same time as another water-loving mamma.  But as my pregnancy went on my heart settled on that image of birthing in the water, and when I was told that I couldn't give birth in my local midwife-led birthing unit and instead had to make the 40min journey to the nearest maternity hospital, I was crestfallen.  But there was a pool at the hospital, so it wasn't the end of the world...right?

where the magic actually happened

Wrong.  Instead of a calm, relaxed labour I spent a lot of it in the car.  Instead of enjoying pushing my baby into the world, I was desperately trying to hold him back in fear I would give birth on the Erskine Bridge.  Instead of birthing in a warm pool, I delivered on a zebra crossing with an audience of smokers (one wee guy in particular I don't think will ever recover).  I'd carefully packed my hospital bags for nothing, and didn't even get to listen to the playlist I'd made.

But as B-movie as my story sounds, I do try to focus on the positives of Mini Milk's birth.  And actually, there are quite a few.  For one thing I fulfilled my ideal of using as few drugs as possible - a grand total of two paracetamol (and a TENS machine, which to put it bluntly was a pile of pish).  I also got to eat in labour...the fact that what I ate was a McDonald's is neither here nor there.  And I didn't totally miss out on the benefits of water, as I got to spend an hour or so in the bath at home before our mad dash to the hospital (even though I did have to stop the Pooch from using the tub as a giant water bowl).  I even managed to give birth in public without flashing my bits to the world, thanks to some incredibly roomy Primark jammies.  Above all it was quick, and there was not one bloody doctor with their trigger happy interventions in sight.

And of course, there is my gorgeous little baby.  A baby who was delivered by his daddy, and there aren't many who can say that.  But for the record, if ever get to do it again I'm having a pool installed in my house...even if that means a paddling pool in the back garden!

I'd love to know if anyone else has given birth in an unusual place...was it planned?!  And are there any other mums out there whose birth experience didn't go as they had hoped?  Have you been able to make peace with it...if so, let me know how.

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A summary to end all summaries

So Mini Milk has been one for less than a week, but although part of me is sad and can't believe how fast it has gone, the other part is excited about this time in his life and looking to the future as he grows into his personality and becomes more of a person.  I keep waiting for the wave of emotions to hit me, but they don't and I think that is because I'm just enjoying him too much right now to get caught up in looking back.

For instance, he is starting to pick up on language.  He has known his name for months, and a month or so ago he imitated his first sound.  That word happened to be poop!  Considering he spent a good chunk of his first year struggling with his digestive system, there was something very fitting about that!  He has also imitated water and banana, and this week he also tried out cake as he was wild for the one I made him.  In terms of words he seems to know and is trying to use appropriately, mama and dad seem to be coming along best.  He also seems to be using dog too, much to the Pooch's disgust, as she is still terrified of him.

Physically he is coming along well too.  He mastered climbing the stairs a couple of months ago, and cruises around furniture easily.  He has figured out how to get off the sofa too, but still has no awareness for the edge or how it isn't a good idea to lean backwards whilst near it (*touch wood* no falls yet).  Standing unaided isn't really happening yet, though we had a breakthrough tonight thanks to the new toy his grandparents got him - he let go an stood for all of five seconds!  The girls at nursery think he's hilarious because the two snack tables are just a little too far apart for him to cruise between them, so he stretches out starfish-like still holding on to one table and not quite able to reach the next, but refuses just to take that unaided step.  Even if you try to hold him by just his hands and get him to step forward he often just sits down, so I think walking is still a way off.  His latest hand trick is to point at things.  Sometimes it seems random, but most of the time he does seem to be pointing at something in particular.  He still loves to clap and beat rhythms with anything he can hold, and is constantly waving goodbye/hello/just because. 

His eating is coming along quite well, I'm trying to introduce more texture into the foods I make him as he's coping well with more solid food that we give him off our plates.  And god, we have to give him food off our plates!  It's got to the point that if we go to eat out we don't always take an extra meal for him from home as he loves nothing more than to share ours (particularly off a fork, but as finger food too).  He loves bananas and bread, probably because he can get his teeth into them (I think we're on ten teeth now - four bottom front, six top front).  I have no idea what he weighs though, as I can't take him to the clinic now I'm at work and I haven't even popped him on the bathroom scales just to get a rough idea. 

He is sleeping fairly well, going down between 6.30-7.30pm, but he's in this awful pattern of waking up at 4am for a bottle before going back own again until about 6am.  He has one or two naps during the day too, which can be anywhere from 45mins to 2hrs.  We moved his cot into his own room about a month ago, and he wasn't phased at all.  I had hoped when he moved into his own room we'd be in a new house and I could decorate it and make it all his, but because Pink Milk uses it at weekends I can't really do that.  Her colour scheme around her bed is pink and turquoise, so I'm hoping I can bring the turquoise tone to Mini Milk's area of the room in some way and make his section more him.  But I'm not in a rush for that, because I am so not in the mood for decorating any time soon!

He had his first haircut at the start of July, and his second one yesterday - my hairdresser trimmed his fringe and a little round his ears when I was in there getting my hair done.  He coped so well, which is good because he has a ton of hair!  He's very lucky, Half Pint's first haircut was done by me, where I basically just cut a straight line above his eyes...poor kid, I look back at his photos from then and cringe!

Mini Milk is such a little character...I think he's going to cause us no end of trouble!  He's cheeky, and can be quite devious.  He seems to understand when we say "no" to him, but he often just looks at us and then carries right on with whatever he's up to.  And we've noticed that he'll try sneaky ways to do what he shouldn't - at his grandparent's house he wants to get into the ornaments on the fire hearth, so will throw his toys near them so that he has an excuse to crawl over to them.  When you catch him at things, he'll often give you a big grin and turn on the charm.  And what charm!  Sometimes I can't stand the levels of cute.  Especially now that he seems to tolerate snuggles a bit better!  He likes to feed me his toast, and even gives the occasional kiss. 

The reflux he struggled with for most of his first year seems to be a thing of the past.  Thank god, as looking back on those days where I spent the whole time stinking of puke and having nervous breakdowns as he ruined his outfit seconds before we left the house still make me want to curl up and cry.

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When Baby Makes Three - remembering to have a relationship when you become parents

By the time Mini Milk came along, the Milkman and I had been together for over five years.  We had both experienced parenthood separately, and our experiences of parenting with a difficult/awol ex-partner meant we both wanted to do it the right way if we ever became parents again.  We tried for Mini Milk once we had made sure our foundations were rock solid, and so although I knew there would be a shift in our relationship once a baby was added into the equation I didn't think it would be particularly noticeable.

But when I saw the man I loved holding our son for the first time, it was as if everything around us stopped and I saw him in a totally new light.  I hadn't thought I could love him more, but just like a parent is able to love a new child without loving their other child any less, I found a new reserve of emotion.  Those first two weeks existing in the sleepy newborn fog whilst the Milkman was off on paternity leave were a blissful cocoon of love and happiness.

Of course, reality has a nasty way of throwing open the windows and letting the cold air in to slap you in the face.  The Milkman went back to work, Mini Milk became more alert and demanding, and life happened once again.  That is when a relationship really gets tested, and I challenge you to find one couple who can truthfully say that they never felt the strain.  I was home all day with a demanding, crying, refluxing baby, struggling to dress and feed myself whilst keeping on top of the housework, whilst the Milkman swanned off to the adult world and his freedom, simply swooping in at the end of the day to indulge in some daddy moments before bed.  Or I was at home all day with no commitments, enjoying all the precious first months of Mini Milk's life while his daddy was working like a dog all day and only seeing his son briefly in the evening.  Sometimes I was jealous of the Milkman, and I dare say sometimes he was jealous of me.  We would often find ourselves at check-mate in a game of competitive tiredness as we ran on our own separate hamster wheels.

Thankfully, the solidity we had built before Mini Milk arrived and the continuing afterglow of that smug, Disney-esque start to our journey as parents together has meant we've never reached crisis point.  More than not, we have worked as a team and - whether out of genuine respect or simply a lack of energy - we have never come to blows in dramatic, blazing rows where things that can't be un-said slip out.

It is so easy to be caught up in keeping the kids dressed, clean and fed in a house which is (semi) habitable that the relationship becomes an afterthought.  It's kind of scary how you can live in the same house as someone, wake up with them every morning and sit with them on the sofa each evening but feel as if you never see them.  I think that is dangerous territory for a couple, but it is ground you can stumble into without noticing.  

A few weeks ago I read a great blog post by Glasgow Mummy called "Do you have a TV in your bedroom?" where she discussed some pitfalls in relationships, and how to keep a relationship healthy and happy.  I agreed with most of what she said, and so to keep our relationship thriving the Milkman and I are going to pop a vitamin in the form of a "date night" every month or so. With Mini Milk now a year old, I'm going to bite the bullet and leave him overnight for the first time so the Milkman and I can enjoy a night in the riverside Hilton and a grown-up meal for two at Red Onion!  I feel a bit cheeky doing this, as we've actually been lucky enough to have wedding shows to attend this weekend and last, so it's not as if we've been totally deprived of child-free time, but this will be different.  It's not time without kids that is the aim here, it's time to centre ourselves...and you can't do that in the pandemonium of a wedding show!  I'm really looking forward to the chance to re-connect, relax and be us for the night.

Has your relationship changed once a baby was added to the mix?  What tips do you have to keep your relationship healthy and happy whilst wading knee-deep through the swamp of dirty nappies, laundry and sleep deprivation?  Drop me a comment to let me know! 

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Teenage Motherhood vs Motherhood in my Twenties

As Mini Milk turns one, I've found myself reflecting on how different my experience of motherhood has been this time around.  There is over a decade of an age gap between my two boys, and a world of difference to my experiences of being their mother.  I had barely turned 18 when I had Half Pint (if he'd not been so late, I'd have still been 17), I had only just left school, and in the last few weeks of my pregnancy I found myself single too.  Ten years older, wiser and more settled, I became a mother again.

I have always felt that I had it pretty lucky as a teen mum, in terms of attitude from others.  Maybe that was to do with the fact that I was an older teen, maybe its simply because people in my area hold their tongues better, but whatever the reason I've not had the same experience as other teen mothers I've met.  I know girls who actually had negative comments made to their faces, from utter strangers, when they were simply doing their shopping or walking down the street.  These have ranged from plain rude to outright abusive, and most of the time were sparked by nothing more than the fact the mother looked quite young. 

I also know I've been very lucky in the support I had from my family.  They not only helped me raise Half Pint, but also ensured that doors to opportunities such as a university education and the chance to still go out and have fun didn't slam shut in my face just because I had a child when I was young.

But even though I probably had it a lot more easy than some others, I can still notice inequalities between parenting as a teen and parenting in a more "respectable" age bracket.  I've tried to narrow these down to three areas, though I could probably write a novel on the topic!

Shocked Reactions and Rude Questions

looking too young to be his mum

The biggest difference I've noticed is that I no longer need to brace myself when I admit to being a mother.  People barely seem to blink when I say I have a baby these days...at least, until I drop the "and an eleven year old" bomb, and then all the old familiar shocked expressions get an airing.

I don't get the accusatory "but you don't look old enough to have a baby!" comments this time around either...comments that always politely insinuated that I was too young to be a mother.  Maybe it's because I look so haggard these days, but it's refreshing to not have to justify my status behind jokes about good anti-wrinkle creams.

I've also noticed that people seem to respect your privacy more readily when you are a mother of an approved age.  I don't think I've been asked once whether Mini Milk was planned, or whether I'm still with his father, yet with Half Pint this seemed to be the natural flow of the conversation.  Followed by the awkward silence when I answered their questions honestly...

And of course, this time around I also haven't received the patronising "well done you" verbal pat on the head.  Obviously once you pass 20 it is no longer a shocker that you can be both a mother and hold down a job/have a home/not look like Vicky Pollard/hold a conversation without calling in Jeremy Kyle/etc stereotype etc.

Place on the Mummy Totem Pole

I have never been in the mummy crowd, a crowd which seems to embrace all shapes and sizes and colours and classes and formats of mother...but not all ages.  As the only teenage mother of Half Pint's year group (despite the fact I was in my 20's by the time he started school, the hat seemed to remain firmly in place), I have always been on the fringes.  Women who you wouldn't ordinarily have grouped together seemed to mesh tightly at the school gates, but I never felt part of that tapestry.  There have been the stand-out few mothers that always have a smile and some polite small talk, but even now after seven years of parents evenings, sports days, birthday parties and school runs there are a noticeable number who still look through me like I don't exist.  In many ways this is more hurtful and has caused me more damage than I could imagine an ignorant comment from an old biddie in the Co-Op might have been.

This time around I am obviously yet to encounter the school gate hierarchy, but I can see the differences and also see the impact my past experience has had on me.  Though ten years has passed, I am still younger than a lot of mothers I have met at clinics or groups.  Even though that age gap is smaller now, I still feel it just as big as if I was 18 again.  It's a struggle trying to appreciate that I am now on a more even footing with most of these women, and am in fact older than a small number of the others.  I certainly feel accepted more readily, but I struggle to get comfortable in groups of other mothers thanks to years of always feeling like the outcast.

Baby Wrangling Confidence

This time around I made a point of signing up to a baby massage class and heading along to play sessions for under ones most weeks during my maternity leave.  This was a huge leap from how I was with Half Pint, when I didn't even have the confidence to attend my antenatal class post-birth meet up.  I didn't attend playgroups either (though my mum took him when I was at uni, so he didn't miss out), and on speaking to other teen mums it seems that is quite common - unless there is a dedicated young mum group or they have at least one other young mum friend to go along with, teen mums stay at home.

I have the confidence now to go wherever I want with Mini Milk in tow, but it was a lot different when I was younger.  I used to feel people were judging me when Half Pint cried or had a tantrum in public.  And now I've experienced those things with Mini Milk I have noticed that people do react differently - when I was younger I would either be drawn looks or have people telling my son that I hadn't done this/that/the other thing right.  Now, people either just share a sympathetic smile with me or just simply let me get on with being yet another mother with a crying baby.


And of course the biggest difference is that I feel no shame in declaring that I have kids!  When I was pregnant with Half Pint, I actually left my job at 30 weeks pregnant without telling anyone besides my boss that I was knocked up.  I even denied it when one particularly nosy co-worker asked me straight out if I was.  I avoided talking about being a mother to most people in my undergrad class at uni, and it would be the last thing I told anyone new I met.  Now, being a mother is who I am and I couldn't be prouder.  My boys shape who I am - Half Pint probably has more of a hand than anyone else in who I am today.  I wear my title as a badge of honour and I wont let anyone make me feel as if anything removes that privilege from me, least of all my age.  I just wish I'd felt that way ten years ago.

I'd love to hear what you think of my experiences, so drop me a comment.  Are you or were you a teen mum?  Do you identify with anything I've said or were your experiences very different?  Is there anyone else out there with two very different experiences of motherhood?  Let me know!

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You Had Me At Hello :: my baby turns one

Mini Milk turned one yesterday, and I had planned on writing a Broody Tuesday entry on the eve of his birthday to mark the occasion. Unfortunately he was up most of that evening screaming, which kind of nixed those ideas. At first I thought he was ill, as being struck by illness just before a major event is a specialty of my kids - Half Pint got his dose of the chicken pox at Christmas, broke his thumb at the height of his goalkeeping career and threw up on at least two birthdays...why should Mini Milk be any different?!  I now think it was simply a night terror that he had, but it took so long to settle him that my lovely entry got pushed to one side.  I didn't get to blog about how he was on the verge of having a number to his name or reminisce about the fact that exactly a year ago I was furiously bouncing about on a birth ball like a demented kangaroo, trying to force him to come out (and worrying that my vigorous bouncing may cause him a head injury...).

But as I lay in bed last night with my head still reeling over the fact that my tiny baby is already one, I decided that I would instead have a whole string of posts to mark this moment. After all, there may not be any more first birthdays for me to celebrate, and at one time it seemed as if the thought of celebrating this one was an impossible dream.

It's been one heck of a year. He kicked it off in dramatic style by being born in the hospital car park, delivered (well, more like caught) by his daddy on the zebra crossing. His birth sums him up so well - eight days late, but couldn't wait a minute longer. Mini Milk showed a strong personality from the very beginning, he knows his own mind and marches to his own beat

But I'm getting ahead of myself - I'll go into his development in another entry, and I'll also blog about his birth in more detail. I plan to blog about the differences between motherhood this time around compared to my experience of being a teenage single mother too. There will also be an entry on how having a child together has changed the Milkman and I's relationship, and one about how having Mini Milk has changed me as a person. Hopefully I'll also get the chance to write about his favourite books and toys, and I'll also share the "no added sugar" birthday cake I made him!

But for now, let me end with some cute...

A year ago today...

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Returning from Maternity Leave :: How to Survive as a Working Mother

If you have read my blog before you'll maybe be aware that I have gone back to work following the end of my maternity leave.  I would bet that's a fraught experience for any mother, whether she was dying to get back into the adult world or not, whether she's taken the minimum maternity leave or been a SAHM for years, and whether she returns full time or for just a few hours a week.  But I then added the nerves associated with starting an entire new career in a new field in a new organisation.  To say I was a little bit anxious is like saying that Nuts magazine is a little bit sexist.

Panic took up every last scrap of space in my mind in the run up to kick off - sorting out a childcare strategy, being able to get out of the house on time, managing to get dinner on the table, preventing our home from becoming derelict from a lack of housework, squeezing in some exercise/couple/me time and finding time to sleep...  I couldn't even let myself wallow in my heartbreak at the thought of having to leave my baby, because my mind was so full of the logistics of it all.  I was certain I had bitten off more than I could chew and was getting more and more scared.

But thankfully, it hasn't been that bad.

My new job is a vast improvement from my old one, and I'm enjoying it.  I am working full time, as needs must, but instead of getting hung up on wishing I could be at home more I have decided to just accept that this is how life is, and unless I win the lottery it ain't gonna be changing!

Making peace with the fact that that this is how it has to be has actually done a lot to ease my transition back into work, and isn't a mindset I only apply to my hours.  This got me thinking whether there are any words of advice I could pass on to other mums on the verge of returning to work...or indeed, any mum who has already returned and is feeling a bit overwhelmed.  I'm definitely not claiming to be an expert, but these are things that are getting me through:

To Do Lists 

I am a list junkie.  I find solace in crossing things off a list (maybe that's why I'm doing the Day Zero challenge).  During my lunch break I draw up a list of housework that needs done, homework that needs supervised, appointments that need to be made...you name it, if it needs attention that evening it is on my list.  If I have time I even re-write it in order, fitted around things that will always need done, like cooking dinner and bathing the baby.  The result is that I come home with a plan in my head, my time is used efficiently and things get done without me rushing at the last minute or getting stressed (well...at least not as much!).

Zen

By this I mean making peace with the fact that you are human.  Not everything is doable, and it is OK to let little things slip either until the weekend or entirely. It's a judgement call between the less important things and your own sanity.  Always chose your sanity!

Sleep!

This came up on my FB feed earlier, how relevant!

It can be so tempting to stay up late to catch up on some reading or watch some of the inevitable backlog that is building up on your Sky+ box...but you will regret it in the morning!  This kind of ties in with "Zen" - some things just have to be put off until the weekend or ditched completely.  I'm trying to switch my perspective from "sleeping is a drain on my free time" to "wow, look at me - I'm making the most of my precious time by only spending it on things that I really love."  My earlier bedtime isn't eating into my freedom, it is simply using the time I would otherwise have wasted on crap tv or aimlessly surfing Facebook.

Tag Team

Now, as an ex-single mother I can fully appreciate that this isn't a luxury afforded to everyone.  But if you do have a partner, then it goes without saying that you should be sharing the load as equally as possible.  The way that works for us, at least right now whilst Mini Milk thinks 4am is an appropriate time to start the day (you are very much mistaken, little man), is to take it a day each.  It makes the early mornings less of a killer when I know that the next morning I'll get the treat of a lie in until 6am whilst the Milkman takes his turn!

Firsts only count if you're there to see them

This may not be the approach everyone would take, but I am a jealous woman by nature.  The thought of not being there for Mini Milk's firsts hurts me on a very deep level.  And so for some emotional armour I have decided that unless I was there, they don't count.  I don't really even want to be told that they have happened, though given that a large chunk of our childcare is provided by grandparents I know it would be a bit bratty of me to deny them the pleasure of telling me!  But still, I simply smile and put it down to their imagination, until I see it for myself.  This approach is working so far, but I have a feeling that the first unaided standing and first steps will be tougher to ignore if I miss them.



And at the end of the day, what always gets me through is the thought of coming home to my boys.  I may be tired when I turn up to collect the kids, but that all melts away when I see Half Pint grinning at me or Mini Milk power-crawling towards me for a cuddle.  Those moments remind me why I'm doing this, and are also my reward.


If anyone else out there has any working mum survival tips, I would love to hear them - drop me a comment and help me keep my head above water in this new stage of my life!

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Why I'm more scared about high school than my child is!

This will be the first of two Broody Tuesday posts on milestones, because both of my boys have hit (or are about to hit) pretty big ones.  This post is dedicated to my first baby...or rather the fact that he is most certainly not a baby any more.

Was this really six years ago?!

The summer holidays came to an end a fortnight ago for Scottish kids, and Half Pint is now in his final year of primary school.  In fact, if we were living in England he would have been starting secondary (or as we tend to call it up here, high school).  That is a thought that makes me come out in a cold sweat.

Children have an eerie talent of making time speed past behind your back.  I can still remember Half Pint's first day of primary school as if it were yesterday, and yet here we are on the brink of adolescence.  I am not ready for the next step. The thought of packing him off to high school and all the things he will be exposed to makes me feel queasy.

Half Pint is smart and picks things up easily, and so my worries about high school don't have anything to do with the workload.  He has never had any problem mixing with new people either - in fact, he's in a good position as he knows kids from all the different primary schools due to living outside the catchment area of his school and through his numerous sports clubs from over the years.

My worries are about the social side of high school, and the influence of the older pupils.  I only left high school 12 years ago, so I can still remember very clearly what that world is like. I can only imagine the conversations and sights he will be exposed to by mixing with older kids, kids who are practically adults...or who at least think they are.  My own memories merge with flashbacks from Grange Hill and I break into palpitations!

I doubt anyone could accuse me of being the type to shelter my kids.  However, I do think that childhood shouldn't be forced to end abruptly in the school corridor when 11 year old children who are only interested in Minecraft and Harry Potter have to share a space with 17 year old louts who go drinking on the weekend and are constantly trying to see just how deep in the gutter their minds can sink.  In this instance (probably only this instance) I think the American school system has a one-up on the UK - they have middle school, which appreciates the fact that there is a world of difference between a tween and someone approaching their 20's.

This weekend as I was mulling my fears over (again...), when I was struck by the realisation that such fears don't give Half Pint enough credit.  That whole blink-&-miss-it thing has been at play, and he's actually become more grown up than I had been willing or ready to admit.  This came to me me whilst I was watching him compete in a swimming meet.  From the spectator gallery I was able to spy on him as he sat with his team between races, and was struck by how mature his actions and way of carrying himself seemed.  He takes the pressure of these events in his stride, and in his way of interacting with his team mates and the adult coaches alike there was a confidence which seemed to belong more to an adolescent than a child.  I got to thinking that maybe I don't need to be so scared, because there was my gorgeous young man and he looked as if maybe it wont be such a stretch for him to be ready for high school.  In many ways maybe he is a little more ready than some, given that I have always raised him to be comfortable enough to have quite frank conversations with me about friends, feelings, sex, the meaning of some of the more colourful language he hears at school, and anything else that pops into his head.  His ability to ask questions and also to identify things that perhaps aren't appropriate (at least in front of adults...I'm sure we are all very aware of the sorts of things kids say and get up to when we aren't there!) probably puts him on a better footing than some who will be moving up to high school with him.

This doesn't totally eradicate my worries, but I at least feel a little more reassured.  After all, primary seven is a year of growing up and we're only at the start of it.  Maybe it won't all seem so scary come this time next year.
 

Anyone else out there having panic attacks at the thought of their babies heading off to high school?  Or even better, are there any parents out there who have been through this gut-wrenching stage of raising kids who can share their survival tips?!

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