How Too Many Horror Films Can Seriously Affect Your Parenting

The 4 year old has probably got Swine Flu. He probably got it from the 2 year old.

While the debate raged in the press about the pros and cons of getting vaccinated, I couldn't help wondering whether being vaccinated was more or less likely to help in a zombie outbreak. Or one of those virus outbreaks like Survivors...you know, Killer Virus finishes off 99% of the world's population and the remaining 1% have to roam deserted supermarkets with a gun (a bit like our local Coop actually).

If you HAVE the vaccine, could it protect you from the Killer Virus? Or might it actually cause the outbreak, which means only Daily Mail readers will survive (God forbid, although my mom would be okay which is obviously good. But then would I want to live in a society of Daily Mail readers? This is complicated.)

Then I have to weigh up the possibility that getting the flu might give you some resistance to said Killer Virus, therefore getting the flu (and therefore not having the vaccine) is good. Or maybe a natural resistance to the flu is an early indicator that you'll survive the Killer Virus anyway?

Yes, I also count the rows of plane seats to the nearest emergency exit (you can't see in a smoke-filled cabin) and have made a mental list of food that can be stored for years and doesn't need fresh water, heat or refrigeration. This should keep us going until the zombies / radiation has passed.

I also bear in mind the need to survive tsunamis, floods and militia attacks when choosing houses much to the disgruntlement of the Estate Agent. 

So basically, the Government can advise away about what we should / shouldn't do for our health and that of our kids.  I've seen Frankenstein, The Birds, When the Wind Blows, 28 Days Later and the Thriller video. That's all I need. Now where's my wind up torch...?

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The Nativity: Brighton Style

Me to the 3 year old: "So, what part are you playing in the Christmas play, darling?"
The 3 year old: "I'm the life coach." [pauses] "That's a type of bus, isn't it?"

Mary, Joseph & the life coach...you've got to love Brighton.

New Wave of Silver Surfers Dashes Mother-in-Law Myth

In a stark contradiction to traditional mother-in-law jibes, today's grannies-to-be are proving thoughtful, generous...and tech-savvy. 

Imminent grandmotherhood is drawing them into online shops, social networking sites such as Facebook and even online video-conferencing in an attempt to keep in touch.

Specialist maternity gift retailer, Milk & Honey Organics, has seen a big increase in the numbers of prospective grandmothers buying online.  "Grandmothers are normally looking for a very special gift for their daughter-in-law.  They telephone us for advice on products so they can choose the most appropriate gift for her stage of pregnancy. Their gift purchases are incredibly thoughtful", says Milk & Honey Organics owner, Rose Tighe. "Online security and managing the multiple passwords now required for online purchases is still a concern. Some prefer to pay over the phone rather than the internet."

Even the most technophobe mother-in-law is embracing online sites that enable them to get more involved once granchildren are in the picture.  Facebook's ability to unite family members through messaging and photo-sharing has driven dramatic growth amongst the 50-64 year old age group. 8.3m over-50s created accounts in 2008 compared to only 1.7m under 18 year olds.

Not everyone welcomes the army of Silver Surfers with glee. "My mother started adding all my friends to her friend list", says one 34 year old mother-of-one. "That wasn't too bad, but then she invited my ex-fiancee who I hadn't been in touch with for years!".

While some lessons in online social etiquette have yet to filter through, for most families the arrival online of the original baby boomers brings welcome support and marks an end to an outdated mother-in-law myth.

Christmas Can be Tough for Pregnant Party Princesses

Quite frankly, party season can be an utter pain if you're pregnant. While the social invitations flood in (you're the designated driver) it's not much fun listening to inebriated colleagues while clutching your tenth mineral water. So for our pregnant party princesses we have some extra special treats.

Feet need extra special care if they're to twinkle on the dancefloor. Natalia's Prenatal Leg Refresher is perfect for reviving Mrs Travolta's aching feet (and it's handbag-sized).

For glowing skin to complement those blooming assets, nothing beats the fabulous Prenatal Body Scrub, again by the wonderful people at Natalia. It's made from hand-harvested sea salt and has 100% natural ingredients that are safe in pregnancy. No parabens, no SLS,no harsh synthetic chemicals... which is just as it should be.

And if she's partied a little too hard into the wee hours, an Organic Silk sleep mask (essential for daytime naps) followed by the aromatherapy Prenatal Instant Revitaliser or Muti's Energise Me Mist might help her get back on her party feet.

But if her thoughts are more homeward-bound and she's loving the excuse to stay in, she can put the stilletoes away and snuggle up with a mug of fabulous Organic Hot Chocolate, wriggle her toes inside the softest Baby Alpaca Bed Socks and curl up with a cuddly Baby Alpaca Hot Water Bottle.  Sheer bliss.

What Not to Buy a Small Child This Christmas

Need to buy a Christmas gift for a niece, nephew or godchild? Suffering from gift-guide nausea because it's still only October? Here's our anti-guide telling you what NOT to buy. (They'd rather just spend time with you anyway).

1. Anything big. Unless it folds up really small. Most families don't have the space for large toys.

2. Felt tip pens (unless all the children in the family are over 6). Young children don't replace the caps so, after redecorating the furniture, floors and walls, they dry up. (The pens, that is).

3. Anything that's useless with only 90% of the original pieces. Any toy or activity with lots of pieces will be lost or inserted into a younger sibling's nostril before Christmas dinner.

4. Anything that can be inserted into a younger sibling's nostril.

5. Clothes, unless:
(a) You accept you're buying for the parents...what you and the child like is irrelevant;
(b) You are absolutely certain about the sizing (beware the winter coat that won't fit until summer); and
(c) You don't mind your gift being greeted with bemusement (children don't understand why an item of clothing is a 'present'!)

So the best gifts for small children?

1. A bus or train ride. It doesn't matter where you go, just keep it under 20 minutes for your own sanity.

2. A trip to their favourite attraction, theme park, cinema or children's theatre. If you're really committed, Annual Membership to a local theme park or zoo is a present every parent will thank you for.

3. A term of kids' classes. Okay, so strictly speaking this is a gift for the parents. Whatever the age of child, there will be local classes in anything from yoga to baby signing to Spanish. Mostly they're as much about the opportunity to meet other local parents (and get out of the house for an hour) as to nurture the next toddler chess champion, but the costs mount up.

4. Baking. Get your pinnie on and spend an afternoon covering every inch of their parent's kitchen in flour and icing sugar. (Don't forget to include the child).

5. If you're determined they have something to open on Christmas day, it actually doesn't matter what you buy. Just make sure it's in a big cardboard box covered in lots of wrapping paper. They'll play with the box for days....


Rose Tighe
Milk & Honey Organics

The Alternative Top 5 Hospital Bag Essentials

If it's your first birth, and you have carefully researched your hospital bag contents, you'd better order 2 cabs to get you to the hospital. Once you've wrestled the suitcases, pillows, yoga mat, the first 15 pages of your Birth Plan, aromatherapy set, doula and giant exercise ball into the back, there's not much room for the swearing maniac insisting on doing the journey on all fours.

Watched in pursed-lipped silence by the cabbie who wishes he'd taken the call to the drunken stag do (we were warned by the hospital not to tell cab firms you were in labour), the perspiring dad-to-be will be diligently trying to stretch a seat belt around his foul-mouthed Significant Other and double-checking the only part of the packing he was allowed responsibilty for (Ipod with carefully selected playlist plus speakers).

So here's the alternative hospital list:

1. A really good foundation and mascara. There is simply nothing worse than panda eyes and a blotchy complexion in the post-birth photos. Your partner will have e-mailed these to everyone in his Hotmail address book before you've made it to the shower. (If you're using the birth pool, remember the mascara needs to be waterproof). And whatever you do, make sure you vet those photos if David Bailey spent any time at the 'business end'. There are certain images of you your boss would prefer not to carry with him to his grave.

2. A portable games console for the dad-to-be. This will stop him interrupting your tranquil self-induced hypnotic state. Only joking (sorry). Bring a selection of torture implements. For some reason being pummelled helps the pain, and if it doesn't you can use them on Him.

For after the birth:

3. A very large selection of dried fruit and the plastic jug from the jumbo boxes of washing powder. Don't ask why you should pack these, just do it. All will become clear.

4. A very good quality eye mask and ear plugs. Useful for daytime naps on the postnatal ward. Even more useful for avoiding unwanted visitors (unless they bring food. Always welcome).

5. Loose fitting yoga wear. No you won't be forced to do postnatal Ashtanga (unless you've just given birth in St John's Wood). Start as you mean to go on. Start sleeping in yoga wear and you won't be caught answering your frontdoor in your pyjamas at 4pm. (In fact they'll think you've just done postnatal Ashtanga. Impressive.).

The Unwelcome House Guest

Are you blissfully childfree and bemoaning how little you see of friends since they've had children? Don't. Really, just don't.

As we lumber our way up the motorway in a vehicle that's little short of a coach, we pass an enormous Winnebago towing a car. "Look" says Husband (with a little too much enthusiasm). "They're taking a car with them to use at their destination."

"Hmm" I think. "A couple on a weekend away with a new baby more like".

Glancing behind, our own brood are obscured from view by: an enormous bag of clothes; the bag of things that didn't fit in the first bag; 2 blow up beds; the travel cot; 2 scooters and associated helmets; a double buggy; a train set; a cool box packed with food; an astronaut costume (age 2-4); a laptop and DVDs; winter coats and sun cream; a large picnic rug; and a travel potty (thank God for the travel potty...the 2 year has unilaterally decided to un-toilet train himself and we're up to 3 changes of clothes a day.)

For us: excessive amounts of fine wine; toothbrush.

You need to be exceptionally well prepared if you're staying overnight in a fully equipped house in surburban Surrey, 0.25 miles from the nearest Sainsbury's superstore.

The sat nav informs us we've arrived at our destination, so we phone to find out how to get to the house. We park on the drive, our vehicle obscuring all light from the bottom half of the house.

On arrival we are given the proud tour of the newly refurbished residence, with its freshly painted vanilla walls, new beige sofas and the sort of cream carpets which cause people to instinctively remove their shoes on entry.

Thankfully for all concerned we start drinking immediately, the kids are on best behaviour and we pretty much manage to keep to our "3 Strikes And You're Out Rule". (This rule allows 3 unsolicited comments about your own children before you're politely asked to leave). At some point someone must sedate the children as their raucous awakening is delayed until 7.50am the next morning.

Shortly after breakfast the 2 year old has his first accident of the day and is frog-marched upstairs to be cleaned up. Undressing him, Husband looks at me. "Where's the poo?"

"What do you mean, where's the poo?", I reply. "Sally said it was in his trousers".

"Well it's not here now" he says, waving a small pair of tartan pyjama bottoms at me. "We have to find it!"

I trawl the newly laid floors and carpets, retracing the 2 yr old's steps, casually investigating any suspiciously dark wood grain with my toe and humming to avoid detection.

After 10 fruitless minutes I have to 'fess up to our hospitable hostess.

"Sally, I'm afraid we've lost a poo..."



http://www.milkhoney.co.uk/