Friday, 10 June 2016

Family Friendly Lakes Break:

                      How to do the Lakes in Family Friendly Style


If I had to choose a location for a family break in the UK, the Lakes would probably be it. Located just a couple of hours away from Manchester and Cheshire, it’s a whole new world of fresh air, sheep, gorgeous food and hotels and, of course, the beautiful lakes themselves. Everyone’s Lakes holiday is different; you can have action-packed adventures, boating and climbing, or you can sashay round sophisticated boutiques, eat in Michelin-starred restaurants and stay in five star spa hotels. When you have the kids (and possibly the dogs) to consider, it’s good to find a happy medium that keeps everyone happy. Here are my recommendations for great places to stay, eat and visit on a trip to the Lakes; do feel free to comment and add your own!

Where to Stay

There’s no shortage of choice when it comes to accommodation in the Lake District. From top hotels to farm B&B’s, from log cabins to glamping, there’s a whole host of options. When Lemon Pie Daddy and I go away by ourselves, we like to stay in a nice boutique hotel like The Cranleigh; however, when we have Amelia and Jack (Jack being the dog) we find that a cottage is a much better option. You have the freedom to do what you want, when you want; you can make your own breakfast in the morning, and in the evening, you can put your little ones to bed while you (Netflix and) chill. It’s also a good idea to have your own enclosed garden for the kids/dog to play in. We stayed at The Garden House in Coniston, a small but perfectly formed cottage with two bedrooms and a gorgeous garden for sitting out in (weather permitting, of course). You can find The Garden House and similar cottages on www.lakeland-cottage-company.co.uk.
                                

Where to Eat

The Lake District is home to a whole host of tempting eateries and it would be impossible to visit them all in one trip (although you could have fun trying!). You will find that most restaurants and cafes are concentrated in the bustling hubs of Bowness and Ambleside, although there are plenty of hidden gems that are worth seeking out. One of these is Chester’s by the River, a café and shop which is situated, as the name suggests, on a picturesque riverbank on the road from Coniston to Ambleside. A few things you should know before you visit:
1.     The menu is completely vegetarian. This wasn’t a problem for either of us, but if you turn up expecting a full English, you may be disappointed.
2.     You can’t have a sandwich in the café. Sandwiches are only available from the takeaway sandwich bar. I have no idea why they have this rule but it doesn’t seem to affect their popularity. Which brings me on to my next point:
3.     It gets very, very busy at lunchtime, so be prepared to wait for a table. We waited about ten minutes, but we were lucky; the people behind us were waiting for half an hour.
4.     If you can get past all this, you will be rewarded with a lovely, light-filled café, serving seriously delicious food, good coffee and amazing cakes. There’s also a shop selling lots of gorgeous (but expensive) paraphernalia, from books and toys to cards and gifts to Matt and Nat “vegan” handbags (surprisingly good pleather; had me fooled). An excellent option on a sunny day would be to visit the sandwich and cake bar and curate the perfect picnic.


My favourite family-friendly restaurant in the Lakes is Fat Olives in Bowness. The menu is extensive and caters for every preference, the staff are welcoming, everything is fresh and beautifully presented and the place just has a lovely ambience. There’s a children’s menu which offers quality, fresh food for your little ones; no chicken nuggets or baked beans here.

And if you’re after an authentic, old-fashioned Italian restaurant where children are welcomed and fussed over, then head to Villa Positano and do what we did; order the (adult-sized) melon starter for your toddler. It’ll go down a treat and you’ll be able to enjoy your own starters and mains without using up a whole box of breadsticks and a bag of Babybels. We enjoyed steak (Jon) and sea bass (moi) while Millie tucked into pizza followed by ice-cream. Everyone was happy- and not a children’s menu in sight. 

                                      

What to Do

There’s so much to do as a family in the Lakes, although on this particular trip we were sadly limited by the inclement weather. On previous trips we have enjoyed days out at places such as South Lakes Animal Park, which is awesome, and we would have loved to go to Brockhole Nature Reserve- maybe next time!
The World of Beatrix Potter in Bowness-on-Windermere is just made for a rainy day (although you should still go if it’s sunny) You and your littles will have endless fun spotting all your favourite Beatrix Potter characters as you walk round the exhibitions. And needless to say there’s an old-fashioned tea room and expensive, but unavoidable, gift shop for your enjoyment.


Clambering onto a boat of some kind is a must when in the Lakes- you can experience anything you like from a kayak to a huge steamer. We did a tour of Lake Consiton on the beautiful Royal Gondola (see below). But even without going on a boat, walking around Lake Windermere, eating ice cream and making friends with the swans and ducks is a pleasure.

Finally, the teeny-tiny village of Grasmere is often overlooked by visitors to the Lake District, but I’d highly recommend it for an afternoon of joyful, aimless pottering. There are cute shops, pretty gardens to walk round, nice cafes to stop at and the famous historic Grasmere gingerbread shop.
If you have been up to the Lakes recently and done something I haven’t mentioned, please do let me know- I’d love some new ideas for next time!

Friday, 6 May 2016

Monday, 28 March 2016

10 Common Misconceptions about Stay at Home and Part-Time Working Mothers


To work or not to work? It's the eternal question that tortures every new mother and mother-to-be, and sadly, there is no easy answer. I know mothers who work and miss their children; I know mothers who stay at home and feel that the reality doesn't match the dream. I work part time and , far from feeling that I have the perfect balance; I just feel doubly crap- like I have sacrificed my career but am still very far from being the perfect wife and mother. Everyone has their own point of view, but from where I stand, there are a few misconceptions I encounter time and time again. I'd love to hear from you if you have your own to add!



10 Common Misconceptions about Stay at Home/Part-Time Working Mothers

 

 

·       We spend our days swanning around Harvey Nichols with our husband’s credit cards.

If we’re lucky, we might get the occasional hour swanning around Primark with (our own) credit cards. Then, when we get to the till and are told we’ve spent £80, frantically try to mentally calculate the credit card bill that will be landing on our mats in due course.

 

·       We don’t care about our jobs anymore.

When you have a baby, you change. But you don’t change that much. You don’t stop loving your job or believing in what you do (or did). For example, if you are in a caring profession, like nursing or teaching, you don’t simply stop caring about the people you work with. If you were passionate about your job in the first place, you’ll find that passion is a pretty tenacious thing.
 
 

 
               ·       We never question our decision.

But we do, and that’s the hard bit. When your work availability or level of commitment is limited, you will necessarily miss out on some opportunities, and you have to be okay with that. When it happens, you’ll be just as gutted as the working mums are when they can’t take the day off for their child’s birthday.

 

·       Don’t make friends with us on Facebook as we’ll clog your news feed with endless boring pictures of our kids eating, sleeping and sitting on the potty.

I promise we (try to) only post the good/funny ones. Trust me, if posted every picture I took of my child, I’d break the internet.

 

·       We think we are better mothers than the working mothers.

Of all the untruths, this is the most untrue. My ability to admire a working mother and recognise the sacrifices she makes is not diminished by the hours I spend at home wiping yoghurt off the ceiling. Being at home instead of out earning doesn’t give you a sense of superiority, in fact it does quite the opposite. I can’t speak for others, but despite having side-lined my career, my constant doubt about whether I am a good mother remains indestructible.

 

·       We won’t want to go out for Friday night drinks.

      No, no. We do. Just let me get my coat.

·       Our houses are immaculate.

Sure, if you come round to my house, your eyes will meet a moderately clean and tidy scene. But that’s only because I knew you were coming and I’ve just spent two frantic, sweaty hours hovering up dog hair, scrubbing dried-up spaghetti bolognaise off the kitchen chairs and trying to find somewhere to stash that pile of crap that seems to grow when I’m not looking, all whilst watching the clock and having full-on palpitations.
 
 

 

·       We’re permanently smiling Stepford Wives who always have a delicious hot supper waiting for our husbands as soon as they arrive home.

Bathing the baby with one hand whilst dialling for pizza with another is a more likely scenario.

 

·       We know every episode of Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom off by heart.

Okay, I’ll admit it. That one’s true.
 
Joanna Voss Allsop

 

 

Thursday, 28 January 2016

Our Best New Books

Our Best New Books

Father Christmas must know how much we love reading because we got looooaaaaaads of new books for Christmas! They’re all lovely, of course, but there are a few that stand out as being special; modern classics that we will treasure forever. So to give you some inspiration for the new books you and your little ones need in your life, here are our top five:

1.  Helen Stephens, How to Hide a Lion.

When a friendly lion is chased out of town by terrified locals, he finds an unlikely friend in Iris, a little girl who decides to hide the lion in her house. This beautiful book depicts the relationship between child and beast in a manner reminiscent of The Tiger Who Came to Tea (one of our all-time faves) and the vintage-style illustrations are so old-fashionedly gorgeous that I was surprised that this was published in 2012. If you love the innocent charm of Judith Kerr’s books then this is for you. There’s a serious message here, about not making negative judgements and getting to know people before you, you know, chase them out of town with a pitchfork, but the story is so much fun that your little one will want to hear it again and again (and again and again).

2.  Usborne Books, The Story of Coppelia.

Forget those horrible, tinny-sounding “musical” books that you have to hide from your children because the sound drives you crazy. The music in this book, whilst not quite MP3 quality, still manages to sound beautiful because the publishers have used real orchestra recordings. The book tells the story of Coppelia simply, with bright, bold illustrations that children will enjoy, but it’s the music that takes centre stage. Watching Amelia dance to the ballet music was heart-melting, even on a hungover Boxing Day. If there’s a place in your heart that loves ballet, beautiful music, or both, then you will adore this (and you might even play with it yourself when the kids are in bed).

3.  Julia Donaldson, Stick Man.

Whether it was the BBC screening of Stick Man on Christmas Eve, or whether it is just the fact that Father Christmas makes an appearance, I don’t know; but Amelia is obsessed with this book and asks for it nearly every night. Every time we go out for a walk, she’ll find a stick and yell, “Look! Stick Man!” The story of Stickman’s struggle to be reunited with his family is genuinely emotional. At the part where he is woven into a swan’s nest, Millie always frowns and says, “Poor Stick Man.” This is a good thing; she’s learning empathy. The repetition, “I’m Stick Man, I’m Stick Man, that’s me!” delights toddlers who will love to join in with it. And the association with Christmas makes this book extra special.

4.  Julia Donaldson, Hide and Seek Pig.

This book was supposed to be a present for someone else, but Amelia found my not-very-well-hidden present box and claimed this as her own. In a way I’m glad it happened, because this is one of the most child-engaging books we’ve ever had. Little readers get to open gates and lift up blankets to find out who is hiding behind them, and they’ll be genuinely thrilled when they “find” Hen at the end. The rhyming couplets are brilliant for building word awareness and memory, and the illustrations are gorgeous. This is just perfect.



5.  Julia Donaldson, Rosie’s Hat.

Little Rosie loses her hat one windy day by the sea. The hat has lots of adventures of its own until years later, by sheer coincidence, it is reunited with grown-up Rose.
Now let me just get one thing straight- I have no problem with pink, I have no issue with princesses, and I deeply love traditional fairy tales and would defend them to the death. That said, I love love love the fact that when Rosie grows up she is a fire-fighter (as well as a wife and mother, if you must know). I do believe that, somewhere between the pink tutus and the sparkly shoes, our daughters need strong role models and although this is only one book in a million books, every little helps.


I realise that three out of these five books are written by Julia Donaldson, and that’s not a deliberate thing. We parents are not the real judges of children’s books, our children are, and I have very much found that the Julia Donaldson books “last” with Amelia; that she keeps going back to them long after the novelty of a new book has worn off. I think, in the end, that that is the measure of a great children’s book…. And I’ll look forward to expanding our already-substantial collection next Christmas.

Sunday, 20 December 2015

Review: Father Christmas Experience at The Chill Factore



Last Christmas, Amelia was only one, and although some of my NCT friends had braved Santa’s grotto, it had generally ended in tears. I decided she was just too young, and didn’t bother. This year, however, Millie is much more aware of Christmas and all its accompaniments; she’s become obsessed with Christmas trees, reindeer and presents (I’ve tried to balance this out with references to angels, stars and baby Jesus, not that she understands) so I thought it was time we finally met “Farmer Mitmus”, as Amelia refers to him.

I started by researching my options and asking friends for recommendations. I’d heard too many horror stories of Santas who smell of Benson and Hedges and hour-long queues in the rain, and I wasn’t taking any chances.

After copious googling, I finally decided on the Chill Factore. You pay £15 for yourself and your child- additional adults cost extra, but as I was planning on taking Millie by myself, this wasn’t a problem. For this price, your child gets to meet the big man, receives a small gift and gets thirty minutes to play in the snow (the “Mini Moose Land” area is specially for children aged four and under, so no danger of being run over by a 16 year-old on a snowboard). It was only after I’d booked and paid online, that I read the small print and realised that the photo is an additional £10 (and taking your own pictures in Santa’s Snowy Kingdom is strictly forbidden). Oh well.

I received a confirmation email straight away, as well as a reminder the day before, not that we could possibly forget; we were far too excited.

The email advised me to arrive early, because “there may be long queues at peak times”. Happily, when we arrived, there was hardly a queue at all, and everything seemed to be organised and moving efficiently. I noticed a huge sign hanging from the ceiling saying “Queue here for Father Christmas” so I went over and enquired, perhaps stupidly, if this was the correct place to queue for Father Christmas. I was asked if I had bought a ticket and I replied that no, I had booked online ( I had the email on my phone, and had also written down the booking number just in case my phone was non-functioning for any reason). Strangely, however, the lady didn’t ask to see my email or booking number, and I was waved straight through. Note to self: get it free next time.
 

We were placed in a short queue, in a quiet, separate area which was equipped with toys, books, mini chairs and other things aimed at small people, which meant that Millie could safely and happily play while I held our place in the queue. Our appointment with the big guy was at 11am and sure enough, at eleven on the dot, an elf popped out of a fairy-light tunnel and asked us to come through.

The elf introduced herself as Snowflake, which I doubt was her real name, but she was lovely nonetheless. She spoke to Millie and asked if she was excited and received, in reply, a slow nod.

At the end of the tunnel there was a 6ft tall plyboard castle draped with tinsel and fairy lights, and we were ushered in through what I can only describe as the front door. Inside there was a cosy scene; a red-carpeted room with a pretend fire in the pretend fireplace, a Christmas tree towering over a pile of identically-wrapped presents, and hundreds of fairy lights and other twinkly, sparkly paraphernalia. A second elf stood to attention, military-style, beside Father Christmas’ throne.

And of course, there was the big man himself. He was exactly as you’d always like to imagine him; festively hefty and satisfyingly old with a (real) snowy-white beard and half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his nose. Although Amelia was initially shy- and, I think, a little in awe- he chatted to her and she soon came round and started replying to him; she even, when he asked if she liked Frozen, gave him a short rendition of Let it Go, which I think was a little more than he expected.

We were probably only in there for about three minutes, but it was enough for a slightly overwhelmed two year-old. He asked Amelia to leave a carrot and a mince pie out on Christmas Eve, and she nodded gravely. So far, so heart-warming. Then, before we were shown out by Snowflake the elf, we were presented with a small gift bag, which we thanked him for, but didn’t open in front of him as it seemed presumptious to do so.
 

And with the formalities over with, it was time for our thirty minutes of playing in the snow. Woo-hoo!

This was the part where I wished that I had Jon with me. Pulling a toddler up a hill in a rubber ring whilst also carrying my over-stuffed tote bag is not the most fun thing I've ever done. Thankfully, after two slides down the hill, she’d had enough.

She pottered around in the snow for a while, where there were various things to play with; those ELC bouncy animals that you find at every Baby Sensory class, jumbo foam building blocks, a Little Tykes playhouse. However, it became obvious that we were not going to last for thirty minutes because, at the risk of stating the obvious, it was really cold. Although Amelia had gloves, I’d neglected to bring a pair for myself, thinking “I’m an adult, I’ll be okay,” and it was amazing how quickly I went from feeling fine to feeling like I had frostbite and was going to die. I asked Millie if she was ready to go, and to my relief she replied in the affirmative. So that was the end of our snowy experience.

We walked to the main exit, at which point Millie burst into tears because, I guess, it was all over so soon. So, feeling guilty, I U-turned into Frederick’s ice cream parlour, and let them tap my wallet for a cappuccino and a humongous milkshake because they “don’t do anything smaller”; it cost £4.50 and Millie drank about a tenth of it.

It was at this point that we looked inside the gift bag, and found a small, cheap teddy that had all the hallmarks of Poundland. I guess even Father Christmas has to think about his profit margins.
 

Sunday, 29 November 2015

The Truth About Breastfeeding


Breastfeeding: the easiest, most natural thing in the world. It’s good for baby, good for you. Your breast milk contains important nutrients that infant formula simply can’t replicate. It’s vital for the bonding process. It’s convenient- no mixing, no sterilising, just pull your top down and bob’s your uncle. It helps you to lose weight and get back into those size 8 jeans. It helps to avoid the risk of SIDS, allergies, obesity and oh, about a million other things. It helps your baby’s brain development- you don’t want him to be in bottom set for maths, do you?  If you get mastitis, don’t worry, just pop a cabbage leaf in your bra. Baby won’t latch on? Give your NCT counsellor a call and they’ll sort it. These are some of the things that I was told in my antenatal class and by various health professionals while I was pregnant. My only thought was, why would anyone not breastfeed?

I wanted to breastfeed. I bought shirt dresses, wrap tops and nursing bras in every colour. I bought two breastfeeding pillows, one for the sitting room and one for the bedroom. I bought a breast pump so that I could express if I was invited to a party. My cupboards brimmed with breast pads and Lansinoh cream. I read every book and leaflet I could lay my hands on (“Every Baby Deserves Breast Milk” was the legend emblazoned across some of them). I went to the NCT breastfeeding lesson as well as the free one at my local Sure Start.  No-one could have been more prepared. Everything was going fine, until an actual baby was added to the mix.

The first night in hospital after the birth was horrendous. I was exhausted, traumatised and- once family hours were over- terrifyingly alone. I was trying to feed a baby that would neither latch on nor quit crying. She slept in short snatches and I lay stiffly beside her, terrified of waking her up. I counted every hour of that dark night. Miraculously, when morning came, I managed to give Amelia a full feed, and the midwife let me go home. But little did I know that that night had set a pattern which would continue for the next few weeks.

Back home, I was faced with the realisation that I was already failing. Amelia screamed constantly and never slept for more than 45 minutes. All the milk I could give didn’t seem to be enough for her. She was rarely satisfied and cried just as much after feeding as she did before. I couldn’t pick her up without being scratched and kicked as she screamed for more milk; I was heartbroken that I couldn’t just have a cuddle. Perhaps because I wasn’t getting much of a break between feeds, the pain was intense- a toe-curling, fist-clenching, teeth-gritting sort of pain. But it was the exhaustion more than anything else that was tipping me over the edge.

I grew increasingly desperate. I remember the night that Jon suggested giving Millie a bottle feed before bed. We already had some formula in stock for “emergencies”, so it was simply a case of making up a bottle. I couldn’t watch, and sat crying on the bottom stair as Jon gave Millie the feed. That night, something amazing happened. Amelia slept for over two hours, and when she awoke, she was just making snuffly noises rather than screaming. This was such a dramatic contrast to what usually happened, that I had no choice but to concede that the best thing would be for Amelia to have a bottle every night… and maybe one in the day too…

From there on, she had more and more formula, and less and less breast milk, as she became frustrated and impatient at the breast when the milk came less quickly than from the bottle. The nightmare was far from over, as Amelia had full-blown colic for the next three months, but gradually the pain in my breasts began to subside and  I started to catch up on some sleep. A week went by with virtually no breastfeeding at all.

Then one night, I woke up having a huge panic attack, convinced that I had made a terrible mistake. Everything I had read about breast milk came flooding (no pun intended) back to me, and I was suddenly convinced that Amelia wouldn’t develop properly without it. I Googled “restarting breastfeeding”- apparently, it was perfectly possible.

I knew Amelia wouldn’t breastfeed now, but I could still express. Over the next few days, I sat for hours hooked up to a breast pump, but never got more than a few drops. I gave up hope. The breast milk that was meant for my daughter had disappeared, and I could never get it back.

It’s hard for me, now, to look back at that time- how wretched, useless and helpless I felt. I had let my daughter down. I had fallen at the first hurdle. I was selfish. I hadn’t tried hard enough. Et cetera.

Eventually, I got over it, but not for a while, and never completely. It takes a long time to gain perspective on a situation like that, and to look back and ask yourself honestly where you went wrong, and how things could have been different.  Even now, when I see someone breastfeeding a baby, I feel a surge of something that is part jealousy, part despair. How do they make it look so easy? Why couldn’t I just do that? And the one persistent question that’s been going round and round my head since Amelia was born, no, since she was conceived:

     What is wrong with me?

And the answer is, probably nothing. There is probably nothing wrong with me. Because, unless they are exceptionally lucky, most people struggle with breastfeeding at some point, in some way. It’s not the easy option that some health professionals- and the media- make it out to be. Sorry, but it’s not easier than sterilising bottles. It’s really not.

So why are we persistently told that breastfeeding is easy, painless and convenient? The objective may be to encourage new mothers to breastfeed- and it works. But it doesn’t encourage anyone to continue breastfeeding. Because when you think that you’re the only one who has a problem- that you’re producing too much milk/not producing enough milk/ have deformed nipples (delete as appropriate)- then you’re much more likely to quit. It’s not very encouraging, for example, to be told that breastfeeding “shouldn’t” hurt when you’re in complete agony. If we were warned about the potential pitfalls and difficulties from the start- if we were mentally prepared for them- then more new mothers might persevere, knowing that the problem is surmountable (if, indeed, it is).

Perhaps, then, the breastfeeding slogan should not be Every Baby Deserves Breast Milk, but Every Mother Deserves the Truth. We can handle it. And it might just make us more determined to breastfeed.

 

What are your experiences of breastfeeding? Did you ever feel under pressure to breastfeed? Did you change your mind about breastfeeding after you’d had your baby? What problems (if any) did you encounter? How long did you breastfeed for? Would you do anything differently next time (if there is a next time!)? I’d love to know…! X