How U Are You?

Would you be annoyed if you child’s teacher told them to say “pardon”? Are your children banned from asking to go to the “toilet”? Do you advise your children that saying “serviette” is worse than saying “fuck”?  

Welcome to the wacky world of U and non-U words; the U standing for “upper class”, in case you haven’t guessed. This concept was coined in the class-obsessed 1950’s by British author Nancy Mitford in her book Noblesse Oblige, and is still very much alive and kicking today. I’ve lost count of the number of Mumsnet discussion threads that have ended in a debate on this very subject (the reason I googled U and non-U was because, I must admit, I didn’t know what it meant) and Carole Middleton was famously berated for saying “pardon”. Not that this seems to have fazed the Middletons any; Kate remains the poster girl of the aspirational middle classes, and a style icon in her own right. However, in the upper echelons of society, there will still be those who look down on her for being of “common” (non-aristocratic) birth.

Personally, I find it extraordinary that someone can be dismissed as a worthless peasant (or, more accurately, a lower-middle class wannabe) for saying the word "pardon". However, I still pored over the Wikipedia article of U and non-U words, as if I had stumbled across some ancient secret code; which, in a way, I suppose I had.

So- are you dying to find out how “U” you are? Of course you are! Answer the questions below as honestly as you can, then add up the points to get your final score. But don’t get too excited if you score highly; apparently there isn’t much difference between upper class and lower class words- it’s only those dreadful lower-middles who refer to pudding as “dessert.” Who knew?

Do you say:

        Scent (1 point)                              Perfume (0 points)

        Vegetables (1)                               Greens (0)

Glass (1)                                     Mirror (0)

Napkin (1)                                   Serviette (0)

(in a game of cards) Knave (1)     Jack (0)

Sofa (1) or Settee                        Couch (0)

They have two children (1)          They’ve got two children (0)

Lavatory or Loo (1)                     Toilet (0)

Chimneypiece (1)                        Mantelpiece (0)

Pudding (1)                                Dessert (0)

Graveyard (1)                             Cemetery (0)

Rich (1)                                      Wealthy (0)

Died (1)                                      Passed away (0)

False teeth (1)                             Dentures (0)

For midday meal: Lunch (1)         Dinner (0)

(Score an extra point if you say “luncheon”).

Good health (1)                          Cheers (0)

Drawing room/sitting room (1)     Lounge (0)

What? (1)                                   Pardon? (0)

How do you do? (1)                   Nice to meet you (0)

Headmaster/misress (1)              Headteacher (0)

Scores

0-4: Oh, you really are the height of vulgarity. You probably wear Juicy Couture tracksuits and have a large TV mounted on your living room wall. How ghastly!

5-8: You’re the classic "Hyacinth Bouquet" type; always trying to impress the right people- but usually getting it oh-so wrong. Are you sure you wouldn't be happier just being yourself?

9-12: You’re middle-class with ideas above your station. Good for you, I say!

13-16: You’re posher than posh. You probably wear tweeds and eat game pie and, every so often, you find yourself in a part of your house that you’ve never been to before.

17-20: You’re the Queen, right?

                               Carole Middleton: Sooo non-U.

  

I Can't Imagine Life Without...

Today, as I was gazing with that lovesick-mummy feeling at my baby girl fast asleep on my bed (currently the only place she’ll  nap), I was suddenly struck by a weird thought. What would I be doing now if I didn’t have her? If she had never come along, would I be sad? Happy? Lonely? What would my life be like? And the truth is, I couldn’t imagine it. My baby is so much a part of my life now that I can’t conceive of a world without her. And this got me thinking… what else did we used to live without, but now can’t imagine not having? These are my top ten, but do let me know if you have any more!

 

 

 

 

1.     GHD’s. Seriously, did I really ever just wash and blow? And what must my hair have looked like? (Thankfully, this was pre-Facebook).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        Mobile phones. I honestly, honestly cannot begin to imagine the nightmare of arranging to meet a friend in town, or a car breaking down, or simply getting separated in a shopping centre, without a mobile phone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3.        Speaking of shopping: the Trafford Centre. Can you imagine a world where every time you need something, you have to drive all the way to town, pay £12 an hour to park and run to Zara in the pouring rain? Nope, me neither.  (Disclaimer: the Trafford Centre isn’t paying me to write this, and I’m not even its biggest fan, to tell the truth. But it is convenient).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4.       Leggings. What a godsend they are, pregnant or not. Okay, I know that leggings were around pre-2010, but only for children or the seriously athletic. Now, however, anyone can get away with them, and look okay- even me. What a relief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.       While I’m on the subject of clothes, can you remember when jeans were only worn for events of extreme casualness, and you would never go “out-out” in them? I mentioned this to my mum, and she told me that back when she was young*, a lady wearing jeans with high heels was considered to be very slutty. I kid you not.

*        *I won’t name the decade, she’ll kill me.

 

 

 

 

6.
Google. My niece and nephew don’t believe me that when I was in school, we had to look things up in actual books.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7.      BB cream. I shudder to remember a time when the choice was naked face or cakey, orange foundation. Yeah, I know there were tinted moisturisers, but they never really worked, did they?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8.     MP3 storage devices, be that your iPod, phone or tablet. Now that every nook and cranny of my house is crammed with baby items, I dread to think where I would store 500 CD’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9.      On the subject of baby items, I have no memory of living without them, but I say a little thankyou once (or twice) a day for the invention of the disposable nappy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1   Gel nails and/or Shellac polish. Did anyone ever really think that acrylic nails with massive white tips was a good look? Yikes.

 

 

 

 

Top Ten Reasons Why We LOVE Our Baby Sensory Class!

Since Amelia and I started Baby Sensory classes with class leader Laura Bannister at Croft Memorial Hall it has become the highlight of our week. I have genuinely never seen Amelia so engaged and fascinated with everything that is going on around her! Here are our top ten reasons why we BOTH love Baby Sensory:

1.      Laura is one of those calm, confident people that I secretly wish I could be like; she just instinctively creates a lovely atmosphere in the class. She also explains, at the start of every activity, how it will aid your baby’s development.

2.      There’s a good balance of structured activities and baby-led play; babies get some time to chill out, but not enough to get bored.

3.      There is a wide range of fantastic toys for babies to play with; not only that but the toys are different every week (it makes me wonder where Laura keeps them all!).

4.      It’s like having two classes in one, as there are lots of “sing and sign” activities as well as the regular baby sensory stuff.

5.      Everything is clean. I can’t tell you how relived I was when Laura came round with two baskets, one for toys that had been mouthed and one for those that hadn’t. I’ve been to classes where you can’t touch the toys without having to go for a tetanus jab afterwards.

6.      The variety. Every week there is something new for babies to be amazed at. The only things that are always the same are the “Hello” and “Goodbye” songs. These are what you’ll find yourself humming/singing as you push your trolley round Asda.

7.      Two words: bubble machine! This is currently Amelia’s favourite thing in the world.

 

8.      The other mums are genuinely lovely; everybody talks to everybody and I can honestly say there is no “cliqueiness” whatsoever.

9.      Places are limited, so while this could mean you spend a couple of weeks on the waiting list, it also means that classes are never overcrowded, and there’s always enough space/equipment for your child.

10.  The class ends on a calm and gentle tone, usually with a song and a light show on the ceiling, so that babies aren’t overexcited at the end of the class, and may even have a sleep in the car on the way home!

For more information or to find your nearest class visit babysensory.com/en

 

In Which I Butcher My Pants

Postnatal exercise is all very well. But when you’ve got a night out with your NCT girls coming up- as I did, last weekend- then you need a quick fix. And when it comes to quick fixes, there is only one thing that will work.

Head to your nearest department store. Locate the lingerie department. Walk past the wispy lace panties. Leave behind the silk satin thongs. Bid adieu to those scrappy little suspender belts. Say au revoir to anything frilly, frivolous and fun. Keep walking (for it is always right at the back) to the section labelled “Shapewear”. This is your world now, and you must learn to navigate it.

There are things here that look like torture devices. There are things that I can’t even begin to figure out. There are things that words can’t describe. But all I basically want is a pair of knickers with a wide “control” waistband that will squash and flatten everything down and make me look like someone who hasn’t just been pregnant for nine months. The control panties are arranged in three columns; one labelled “Light Control”, another “Medium Control” and the third “Firm Control.” I go straight for the firm; there’s no point messing about.

They are flesh coloured, and hideous, obviously. But the waistband feels reassuringly tight when I stick my hands in and try to stretch it. So far, so good. I glance at the price tag. £45.00! For a pair of pants! I resist the urge to hang them back up. I take them to the till, telling myself they’ll be worth every penny if they work.

I haven’t left myself any margin for error, as the night out (cool restaurant, swanky cocktail bar) is happening that very night. By the time I’ve applied the necessary amount of make-up and have battled my hair into some kind of submission, I have exactly nine minutes until my taxi is due to arrive. Off come the pyjama shorts. On go the fat pants. With the tags ripped off, obvs.

I look at the front. It’s all pretty impressive. The flesh-coloured waistband has whittled my waist into something approaching an hourglass shape and the front control panel feels like it’s doing what it should. So far, so awesome. Until I turn around and gasp in horror. Everyone gets a bit of VPL from time to time, but this is on a whole new level. Each butt cheek is perfectly cut in half and under a tight dress, my bottom will look very strange indeed.

I pull them down. But now the waistband doesn’t work cover my abdomen and I have a hideous muffin top. I pull them up again. The VPL returns. I have five minutes to go. Shit, shit, shit.

I could take them off and put a normal pair of pants on, of course. But from the front everything is fine and letting it all hang out isn’t an option. There’s really only one thing I can do. I grab a big pair of scissors from the kitchen. And I convert the short-style back to a thong-style back. In other words-  I’m just going to say it-  I cut the arse out of my pants.

I put them back on. They look terrible of course, but once my dress is on over the top, everything looks fine. Well, better than usual, anyway.

Ironically, a few days later I am in Asda and I decide to pick up a £5.00 version of the same as my “spare pair”- can’t afford another £45.00 on knickers. Also, what draws me to these is that they are labelled “No VPL!” which gives me some hope that I may not meet the same pitfall that I did last time. I took them home and tried them on and ladies, I can honestly say, they are bloody fantastic, and they will be getting a lot more wear than my butchered £45.00 pair.

I guess the moral of the story is, when it comes to control panties, expensive isn’t always better, so don’t waste your valuable cocktail money. Go to Asda, grab a cheap pair and go out and party. Because as long as those fat pants are hoisted up around your wobbly bits, you’ll look great.

In Which I Am Converted.

So today was B-day (Buggyfit day!) and I was a little nervous about surviving my first class. I’m not the naturally athletic sort and I had visions of skinny yummy mummies outsprinting me while I struggled to push my Silver Cross up a hill. I needn’t have worried. The other mums were lovely (there were about eight of us) and the instructor was friendly and welcoming. She also had her own baby with her, which was reassuring; it felt like we were all in the same boat.

The class was a mix of power walking, circuit-type exercises and some group and paired stuff using those stretchy resistance bands. It’s satisfyingly challenging but very doable, even for me; however you are always offered a less challenging alternative, for example, you can power walk instead of running. The hour flew by and the fact that we were outside in the sunshine made it more enjoyable; it was so much nicer than being in a sweaty gym.

Whether doing a Buggyfit class once a week will vanquish the mum tum once and for all remains to be seen, but I definitely felt happy and energetic at the end of the session, and felt that my week was off to a good start. I’ll definitely be back! Now all I have to do is cut down on chocolate…

For more on Buggyfit visit buggyfit.co.uk.

                                      

HELP! I’VE GOT A MUMMY TUMMY!

HELP! I’VE GOT A MUMMY TUMMY!

Having my daughter has been the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I genuinely wouldn’t want to change a thing. If I could go back in time, I would want to conceive at exactly the same moment with exactly the same outcome. Some people think that having a baby turns your world upside down. I think that my world was upside down before, and Amelia has turned it the right way up. Being a new mum was difficult, but six months in, things are pretty much perfect. There’s only one problem. One large, wobbly problem that’s impossible to ignore. No amount of dieting or exercise will shift it. Yes, I’m talking about the infamous and much dreaded Mummy Tummy.

Now, I’m not claiming that my abdomen was washboard-perfect before I got pregnant, because it wasn’t. There was always a slight convex incline, if I’m being brutally honest. I actually quite enjoyed having a bump, because it meant I didn’t have to worry about my tummy sticking it- if it was, there was an excuse for it. Now, however, the bump is gone, and all that seems to be left in its place is a saggy bowl of blancmange. It’s not pleasant, for my eyes or anybody else’s. I have decided therefore, that Something Must Be Done.

After a quick Google, it becomes apparent that I am not the only un-yummy mummy desperately seeking to restore her pregnancy-ravaged figure. There’s a whole array of postnatal exercise classes out there, the most promising of which seems to be something called Buggyfit. Buggyfit is a franchise which runs groups in a range of locations across the country. I have an initial mental image of athletic, Amazonian women sprinting with their prams, but the website assures me that there is definitely no running with buggies, and all exercises are specifically designed to help the postnatal body recover strength and restore its shape. Best of all, sessions are held in local parks and recreation grounds, so you don’t have to go anywhere near a gym. It sounds good to me, so I search for my local branch- Heaton Park- and sign up on the spot. I fill in a downloadable form and I’m done!  My first session will be 10am tomorrow.  

It’s only then I stop to realise that I am far form well-prepared. I don’t actually own a pair of trainers, and my jogging pants are more of the lounging-about-the-house variety that the go-jogging-in-public variety. However, I’m determined to see it through, and I’ve even persuaded a couple of my NCT group buddies to come along. I’ll let you know how it goes…!

Some of my favourites from our photo shoot with the fabulous Emma Carr!

You can check out more of Emma's work on her Facebook page: Emma Carr Photography.https://www.facebook.com/emmacarrphotography and on emmacarr.co.uk