I'm a loser, baby...

You all know this song, right?

So the radio is on quietly in the kitchen and I am singing along as I flit between rooms sorting out the kids' tea. The lyric comes along: I'm a loser, baby... so why don't you kill me? Except in the pause the inappropriateness of singing this in front of my 3 year old and 16 month old suddenly hits me. My mental process reaches for a substitute word, strikes 'thrill' from the register as also not ideal and before you know it the lyrics hit and I'm singing:

"I'm a loser baby... so why don't you say hello?"

Why 'say hello'? I honestly do not know, other than I clearly am indeed a loser.

But then:

"Hello!" pipes up 3 year old, "Bonjour! Ni Hao!"

I give you The Lingo Show, and a timely reminder to self that kids really do pay attention to what they watch on TV. I quite like the Lingo Show; it's fun, cheerful and just a bit silly. What's going to be the best food for a bug to karate-chop? Will it be banana or orange juice...?

It's well complemented by the Lingo Show Game on the Cbeebies website, which The Girl can mostly manage on her own. Her favourite bug is Wei, the Mandarin-speaker, so that's got to bode well for her future global competitiveness, right? As let's face it, at least one of the kids is going to have to earn enough to support me and Himself in our elder years, as any hope of saving a liveable pension is quite frankly screwed - it's either that or we take the Logan's Run approach. So perhaps if I look at it that way, we're actually investing in our futures by watching Lingo, right? It's not lazy parenting at all...

I'll leave you with the thought that 'Loser' was out in 1993, way back when a second class stamp cost 20p and petrol was 45p a litre. *counts pennies and sobs*

Poc Poc cakes

Make the banana muffin recipe a la Dora the Explorer. Kid yourself you know it off by heart, and forget to put in the oil. Pour mixture into cases using either the spout of your mixing bowl or a jug.

Voila.

Angry Bird Pop Up Book

I'm perversely proud of the fact I have had the same mobile phone since 2004. It is a Nokia, of some description, which has survived various soakings, droppings and assorted toddlers that would see off most whippersnapper smart phones. I do not have the technology to have apps though, and so the Angry Birds phenomenon largely passed me by. Until The Girl wanders off to play on Grandad's laptop, and shortly thereafter loud explosions can be heard. Cue maternal intervention...

So some time after, the The Girl says she would like a pop-up book. It's been a while since I've done any paper engineering, but birds I can do. It's only after I create it, I realise it does bear a resemblance to an Angry Bird. But never mind, eh? At least it wasn't Plants vs zombies... I didn't really want to have to explain zombies to a 3 year old. I would much rather have the conversation that goes:

"Why are the birds angry, Mummy?"
"Because the pigs stole their eggs, darling."

Than:

"Why are the zombies attacking, Mummy?"
"Because they want to eat your brains, dear."

If you would like to make your own Angry Bird pop up, take:

2 pieces of paper
Pritt stick
Felt tips
Optional stickers

Fold each piece of paper in half
Take one folded piece of paper, and with the outer edge of the fold facing you, snip a 2 inch or so slit in the paper.
Then bend the paper so that the slit folds up to create a diagonal fold between the edges of the slit and the middle of the page. Do this both at the top and bottom of the slit to create the 'beak'.
Stick the outer edges of the paper with the 'beak' (beak side out) to the other piece of paper to create a 'book' fold.
Add features to create your bird! Open and shut the 'book' to make it 'squawk'!

The bird's beak can also be adapted to become a frog or fish. Or, if you are feeling adventurous, a dragon. But definitely not a zombie's toothless maw...

Orchard Games Farmyard Opposites

As played by Father Dougal...?

Lemon and carrot muffins

This recipe is largely adapted from the Dora The Explorer magazine's banana muffin recipe. The carrot on top is at The Girl's request, as apparently carrot cake cannot be carrot cake unless it has white icing and a carrot on top, as that is what carrot cake is like in Peppa Pig. All hail Peppa Pig, culinary reference point for preschoolers. This particular decorative carrot is made out of carrot, funnily enough, and bits of cucumber skin for leafy bits. Random, but best I could do at a moment's notice.

I do feel a bit like "Great Aunt Loretta" from "Grandpa in My Pocket" with some of these random additions to my cookery, but needs must... I'm not so desperate yet to try anything so nuts bold as a curry trifle however. And I have to say, I really dislike Grandpa in my Pocket, possibly more so than anything else on TV at the moment.

This distresses me, as I am otherwise a fan of James Bolam, but as the Grandpa of the title he seems to be some sort of geriatric vigilante, a busybody interfering in rather a bullying fashion. A "kids of today, I know best" attitude seems to dominate his motivation. He harangues teenagers, his sister (who he seems to detest), random visitors who he deems to be behaving unacceptably... and rather than dealing with it in a way which models positive attributes, like, say, honesty and talking to people to resolve conflict, it's all devious and underhand. Oh, sorry, did I say devious and underhand? Obviously I meant clever and fair... The throwaway comment about "teamwork" at the end of each episode is a bit ingenuous, if you ask me, as Grandpa yet again makes his grandson an unwilling accomplice. ("Not the shrinking hat, Grandpa!" - you can say it every episode Jason, he'll still ignore you.) The whole thing is a bit mean for my taste.

But perhaps Grandpa has just become bitter and twisted as a natural reaction to the manic happiness of the rest of the Mason family. Do they put Prozac in the water in their hometown of Sunnysands? Watching that programme gives me the slightly sick feeling you get after mainlining a full bag of Haribo... but without the sugar rush.

If you, however, fancy indulging your own sugar craving, these muffins are rather yum. And as they have carrot in, you can kid yourself it's one of your five a day. It's got lemon in too, so if you count that, that's two of your five a day, right?

Lemon and carrot muffins

Take:

zest of 1 lemon
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Handful of raisins
100g carrots
200g self-raising flour
80g sugar
100ml milk
2 tablespoons oil
2 eggs
Philedelphia cheese (a dollop - 2 tablespoons?)
Icing sugar (enough to get the right texture for icing - 100g?)

Combine the lemon zest, lemon juice, raisins and grated carrot in a bowl.
Beat eggs and add to the mix.
Add oil.
Add flour and sugar and beat well.
Add milk - consistency of the mix should be moderately firm.
Put mix into muffin cases (makes 8).
Bake at 190 degrees for approximately 20 mins.

Combine about 2 tablespoons of Philedelphia cheese with around 100g of icing sugar. This will give you a tasty topping approved by my preschooler!

The Library Experiment

We're regular visitors to the library, even if I have to keep reminding The Girl that we're not there to borrow copies of books we already have. It's a on the list of "cheap things to do with the kids" that gets rotated regularly.

I love reading, and The Girl seems to love books too - Toddler Boy seems to like turning the pages more than looking at what's on them, but I've just about got him to understand they're not for throwing, so there's hope yet. (As you can imagine, the latter can make for 'interesting' library trips...)

By the time we've been to the library and they've looked at and chosen a couple of books each, my nerves are usually shredded and I either decide I can't face wrangling them while I try and choose a book for myself or I plain forget. However, I've now found a semi-cunning plan to address this: I let The Girl pick my books for me.

So far, it's been quite a successful tactic. She picks things I wouldn't, and for the most part I've enjoyed her selections. I give you my potted reviews:

Mendel's Dwarf - Simon Mawer
I remembered Mendel from GCSE Science, hereditary genes and all that... This book was an intriguing mix of the "proper science" with an imagined past of Gregor Mendel interspersed with a first-person autobiographical account from the fictional Dr Benedict Lambert, geneticist, distant relative of Mendel, and dwarf. Dr Benedict is an engaging, but not always sympathetic, character and the story has a few twists and turns to keep you guessing, although I was willing the ending to be something other than it was... It stayed with me after I'd finished it: compelling yet disconcerting.

The Seamstress - Frances de Pontes Peebles
Two sisters escape their hometown in very different ways - one by an unsuitable marriage, the other (willingly) abducted by the cangaceiro, or rebel bandits, that roam the countryside of rural Brazil. I was utterly caught up in the South American world, in the fates of the sisters and their struggles against the societies and circumstances they are caught up in. Vivid, passionate and brave, I really enjoyed this one.

The Ghost Agent - Alex Berenson
My daughter's choices are nothing if not eclectic. I hated this book. In fact, I didn't finish it, and it's not often that happens. I can't tell you much about it, as I didn't get that far. It was written as if it was a book of a film; the kind of film you put Steven Segal in, because Vin Diesel's busy and Matt Damon won't return your calls. It was based on real-life political tensions, largely centered on China, North Korea and America. The central hero would fit in perfectly with 'Team America', but at least in that film machismo and arrogance were being sent up rather than taken seriously. Not my cuppa.

Angel with Two Faces - Nicola Upson
Back to enjoying the books again! This was a lively "whodunnit", set in England in the 1930s. I did find it was only the references to World War I that kept reminding me it was supposed to be set back then, and that the central characters were swept along by, rather than proactively solving, the case. But it was entertaining, and the differing ways in which the two key protagonists responded to a certain controversial issue was certainly thought-provoking.

The Girl's latest pick is Shadow Sister by Simone van der Vlugt. It's a crime one, which is not my usual thing, so I'm waiting to see what I make of that. It's one way of getting out of a reading rut, anyway!

That's Doctor Ariel, to you...

So when I found out my firstborn was going to be a girl, I took a bit of mild ribbing from some quarters about what I'd do if she was a girlie-girl, given that I'm, well... put it this way, I never played with Barbie or Sindy as neither held much interest for me, but I can hold my own in any conversation about Transformers, He-man or Thundercats (not the new versions, mind!) The joys of having a brother! Although I'm pretty sure that the He-man figures were mine first...

I do remember some princesses featuring in my childhood though... how I longed for the more exotic name of "Melisande" - the princess from "Flight of Dragons"- which after "Samantha" (worryingly, after Sam Fox) I thought was the most beautiful name in the world, ever. And wishing I had long blonde hair, something they both had in common. I was definitely mid-primary school when the name-changing blonde-hair yearnings began.

I'm not sure why Ms Fox passed across my childhood consciousness, but I think just from hearing her talked about in the media, in the way that Jordan is now (only with Ms Price it's even more so). Possibly also Top of The Pops, which tallies with the timescale. So in the context of page 3 girls, are Disney Princesses comparatively harmless?

I have to say I'm really not keen on some of the messages that 'Disney Princesses' in particular put out there - the point of life is to be pretty above all, to be passively rescued from your fate, meet your Prince, get married, keep being pretty, yawn - but my position's been challenged lately, as the Girl's friends are big on all that franchise... So the dilemma then becomes how my principles mesh with the reality of child-raising. I'm not raising my child in isolation from other influences. How can you? But do I exclude her from 'princess parties', grudgingly go along with it, or try and keep some perspective...

I'm aiming for the latter, and taking the line that princesses are probably like a box of chocolate: not that you never know what you're going to get, more that if you have the odd one now and again, in context of an otherwise varied diet it's fine.

And while I'm not a fan of princesses, I will make an exception for Princess Pearl. She of the 'zog' book, from the 'Gruffalo' stable of Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler. I'd forgotten about her, til we had that story for bedtime tonight. She gives up being a princess to become a doctor - sensible choice in these stormy times - and with a small suggestion from me, the Girl was pretty keen for me to make a 'white coat' for her Ariel toy. Although she's still a bit confused as to why Ariel wears 'silly shoes' that she can't stand up in (that'll be because her hair makes up about half of her bodyweight, dear).

"You don't wear silly shoes, do you Mummy?"

Um. Well, sometimes. Maybe. *cough*

If you want to make a white coat, take:

Some white paper or plastic.
Cut a rectangle of appropriate size.
Cut holes for arms, and put on doll.
Secure with appropriate fastening (yes, I know the rubber band makes it look more like a kimono)
Bodge together optional stethoscope with pipe-cleaner. Ta-dah!

Princesses. Huh. These days, I'm more likely to be carried off by a man in a white coat than a knight on horseback, but hey...

Three years in shoes

"They grow so fast," they told me, with wistful looks in eye. "Goody," thought I, wishing myself ever further from the broken nights, sore nipples and sundry other joys of babyhood... and feeling guilty for wishing their lives away, but wishing it all the same.

I do have the odd moment of nostalgia, before sanity kicks in. I can remember when her foot was the same length as my little finger, yet now I am the proud mother of a 3-year-old. I really can't get away with calling her ToddlerGirl anymore. The Girl's not really been a toddler for ages, but just lately I look at her and I see how much she's changed. My desktop wallpaper is a picture of her with BabyBoy (who I should probably call ToddlerBoy now, really) from six months back, and even there I can still see something of the baby about her.

But I look at this assortment of shoes, each one a milestone in it's own little way, and I realise two things. Firstly, they're right: they do grow fast. And secondly, I need to sort out the shoe cupboard more often...

These shoes are made for running...

The difference between being 33 and 3 is that the response to someone who says "I'm going running," aged 33 is "Good for you!". When you're 3 it's "Can I come too? Please!"

I'm not sporty. PE lessons at school pretty much put me off sport for life. Nothing to do with the teachers/teaching, and everything to do with communal changing rooms, teenage girls, and self-consciousness.

Since pregnancy #2, the ligaments in my lower back are permanently weakened. That's the bad news. The good news is that since my osteopath did his thing, I am pretty much pain-free, and although my ligaments are no longer to be trusted, as long as I keep my core muscles strong then they compensate accordingly. So, the silver lining to the cloud of having to pay much more attention to my body than I used to is that as a result I am substantially fitter. I have to make exercise a part of my life in a way it never was before. This can only be a good thing, as hopefully my kids will see that as 'the norm' and perhaps be more likely to continue to enjoy exercise. I don't come from a sporty background at all, and I do wonder whether it is nature or nurture that made me a 'not sporty' type...

But then I look at my kids and think, surely nature doesn't make 'not sporty' types? Because they, like pretty much every preschooler I know, love physical activity - my 14 month old spends his life in search of things to climb, and my 2 year old loves running (okay, often away from me) and jumping (yes, often in puddles). At what point do we lose that? Is it just about developing a sense of self and the self-consciousness that goes along with that? Or is that some days, getting two small kids ready, dressed and down the park seems such a huge effort that it's easier to stick on Cbeebies and pray they sit engrossed while you try and drink just one cup of tea before it's tepid? Because looking after two small kids is sometimes so knackering that you don't have enough energy of your own to help them use up theirs? Is that the start of a slippery sedentary lifestyle slope?

Fear not though, for the healthy living/active lifestyle is already promoted to 2 year olds via your TV! In fact the Government teamed up with kids' programme LazyTown last autumn to launch its own Change4Life programme aimed at 2-5 year olds. For those unfamiliar with LazyTown, it promotes healthy lifestyle choices via its hero Sportacus and the characters who live in the eponymous town. (There's a kid called Pixel who needs to be prised from his computer to exercise, fruit is 'Sports Candy', you get the gist - though I'm not sure anyone's fooled by that 'Sport Candy' idea. It's actually quite fun to watch, and less preachy than it sounds.) But then as adults, most of us know about healthy living and sensible choices, and the trend is still towards a state of increasing obesity.

Perhaps it makes sense then that the Government thinks we can't be trusted to make the right choices. Yet I have very mixed feelings about the school weigh-ins for kids, or "The National Child Measurement Programme" to give it its full title. My eldest will fall due for it at some point next year. I have the right to withdraw my child from it, and I am yet to decide if I will exercise that right. I view it as my responsibility to keep my kids healthy, and a long line of children being weighed, measured and recorded in schools strikes me as an image belonging more to a totalitarian state than the country I thought I lived in. But perhaps that is my naivety...

Regardless, I am trying hard to incorporate exercise into my life, and hopefully as well as keeping me pain-free it does set a good example. And so I've started the 'Couch to 5K', or 'C25K', 9 week running programme. Hence the pleading requests at bedtime from my daughter who would love to come with me... even in the drizzle. Meanwhile I try and remember the words of Phoebe from friends: "I run like I did when I was a kid because that's the only way it's fun".

1 week down, 8 to go and then we'll see if I actually am running 3 miles in 30 mins...

Wrapping paper jewellery

"And so this is Christmas, and the bin-men don't come / Our blue-bin's overflowing, and what can be done?"

Well, we'll just have to wait til next Friday when they will come. Stiff upper lip, chaps! Just step over the piles of coke cans and boxes in your way...

It's not that I think a weekly collection is necessary the rest of the year, but at Christmas they come late anyway and we have acres of packaging to dispose of. I am sure there is some inverse proportion between the age of the person getting the present and the size of the box it comes in. Fortunately, for once, this year what was in the big box - a play kitchen - was more interesting to both kids than the box it came in. Result!

In the meantime it's back to reusing whatever we can... Got too much wrapping paper left over from Crimbo? Turn it into fabulous jewellery!

The idea for this came loosely from decoupage, which I was reminded of walking along the river looking at the houseboats. Which in turn reminded me of Rosie and Jim, chugging along on the Old Ragdoll. Which got me to thinking about Ragdoll Productions. Bear with me, there's an interesting and random fact coming...

For some reason I thought Rosie and Jim was the first thing Ragdoll had done, but it turns out it isn't -but that's not the interesting fact. They've done loads of things, including DipDap, In The Night Garden and Teletubbies, and that I didn't realise that shows I really should be paying more attention to the TV. (Or perhaps the reason it hasn't registered is that I am paying so much attention to my kids. Yes, that must be it.)

Turns out the latest thing that Ragdoll are up to is my beloved Abney and Teal - that's not the interesting fact either, but here it comes - and looking on their website I discover that Shingai Shoniwa, who is the voice of Teal, is also the lead singer of The Noisettes! Who knew? I keep listening to 'Never Forget' and trying to superimpose "That was an adventure Abney!" over the top. It's blowing my tiny mind! Or perhaps that's the fumes from too much PVA glue again...

Fancy getting all gluey?

Take:

Old wrapping paper - the shinier the better!

PVA glue

A straw - or a pencil will do

Some string or old parcel ribbon

Cut the wrapping paper into long triangle 'pennant' shapes - the longer the pennant, the fatter the final bead.

Place the straw in line with the base of the triangle, and roll the paper around the straw once. Hold in place and then cover the rest of the paper with glue.

Roll straw to roll up the rest of the paper around it. The glue will probably squidge everywhere, but that's okay.

Slide the straw out.

Smear squidged-out glue over the outside of the bead to seal.

Place bead on-end on a surface you don't mind getting gluey - a plate, or something plastic is good. Not paper!

Repeat to make more beads, and leave to dry. You may need to wipe the straw between beads depending on how gluey it gets.

When dry, thread beads onto string or old parcel ribbon to make into bracelets or necklaces.

Teddy Sledge

Things we have had to explain to ToddlerGirl about Christmas this year:

* It's not guaranteed to snow on Christmas Day
* Just because it is snowing doesn't mean it is Christmas Day
* Father Christmas and Santa Claus are the same person; you won't get presents from both

Actually, she won't be getting presents from either, as we're not really comfortable with that tradition. Why? Well, we're not religious types and the idea of an omnipresent person who watches and judges you and rewards you accordingly isn't something that I choose to subscribe to. I'd ideally prefer moral compasses to be directed by internal values than external incentives. The whole "you must be good or you won't get stuff" thing can have unintential side-effects in the long-term, and I'd refer you to Alfie Kohn (or my previous post) for further info.

However, recognising this is a sensitive subject and trying to be respectful of other people's beliefs makes the 'not doing Santa' line harder to walk. Father Christmas already came to preschool and gave ToddlerGirl a book. I'm telling her that's her present from Father Christmas. She will be getting stockings and presents on Christmas Day, but that's not contingent on her behaviour; I don't have a mental tally of how good or bad she has been and therefore which presents she is or is not entitled to. Although it is amazing how many people just assume everyone does Father Christmas... How many times already has she been told "have you been a good girl for Santa?", "I hope Santa brings you lots of presents", or, when she doesn't want to leave somewhere she's having fun, "you have to go or Santa won't know where to bring your presents" (if he "knows when you are sleeping, knows when you're awake, knows if you've been bad or good", surely he knows if you are in your own house or not?)

You can't apply a logical approach to Father Christmas, though I know of several children that are terrified by the idea of a strange man breaking into their house, which seems utterly logical to me. And I know of children incredibly distressed as to how Father Christmas will get in if they have no chimney. At times, they're more logical than you'd credit, kids.

So I'm telling her Father Christmas doesn't come to our house. He may visit other people's houses, but we have lots of presents already. I'm hoping this is an adequate compromise. I don't want her to be "that" child in the playground the other mothers hate for shattering illusions, but equally I don't want to be railroaded into a tradition which has no real benefit. If I'm going to lie to my kids, I need a better reason than that. Anyone wailing about "the magic" will get short shrift. There's plenty of magic to go around; just watch my toddler playing in the snow. There's no need to fabricate it. I've long believed Father Christmas is more for the adults' benefit anyway. If Santa's so lovely, how come he's so often used as a threat? "If you don't behave, Father Christmas won't come!"

We're treating Father Christmas in broadly the same terms as Peppa Pig. Father Christmas is in around 90% of the Christmas Specials I've seen thus far anyway, I'm not going to be so "bah humbug" as to ban any mention of his name, or any image of his face from our home. In that spirit, when ToddlerGirl asked if I could make something out of an empty nectarine tub, I couldn't think of anything other than a sledge... It's not a Santa sledge, though she insisted it is pulled by deer.

Look at my beautiful balloon deer! Technically it's probably an antelope as it has horns rather than antlers but I've only been trying the old balloon modelling thing for three days so as improvs go, it'll do for me...

If you want to make a sledge for teddy, take:

* An empty fruit tub
* Wrapping paper
* Tinsel
* A bit of curling ribbon

Wrap the tub in the wrapping paper, sellotaping it down inside the tub.
Sellotape tinsel around the top of the tub
Sellotape ribbon to front so that sledge can be pulled along by optional deer.

Fairy hat

"Mummy, I need a fairy hat for the party, can we make one?" she says. My mind flicks through all my fairy-touchpoints, from Tinkerbell (the hatless hussy) to Fairy Godmothers (kindly but also hatless), and I can't think of a single fairy that wears a hat. I wonder whether the request comes from watching Ben and Holly's Little Kingdom, but Holly wears a crown and ToddlerGirl tells me that just won't do.

Turning to my old friend Google, I find this video on how to make fairy hats, and look, it works! And all you need is some newspaper, sellotape and curling ribbon. Not technically hats, as such, but I've made a couple and they turn out remarkably sturdy. They do not, however, stay in place when your fairy is bouncing on a bouncy castle, which, given she spent pretty much the whole party there, rendered the whole hat-making process somewhat obsolete...

Thinking about it after the event, as I tuck into some fantastic Victoria Plum jam (from Dream Preserves, aptly named), it hits me - why did I not think of Victoria Plum? She had the best hat ever!

Victoria Plum made a big impression on me as a toddler. So much so, that I wanted to call my baby brother Benjamin after her friend. Sadly my nan had named her dog that already, so it was not to be. I like to think Ben Elf from B&H's Little Kingdon is a distant relation of Benjamin's. Or maybe Ben is just a good name for elves. Take note, J.R.R. Tolkien.

When it comes to hats, it is hard to beat Victoria Plum's bindweed flower. I used to love picking these flowers for my toys to wear as 'hats', and never could understand why my mum hated the stuff. Even though it runs riot in the garden, I still think it is the prettiest of weeds. But you could probably make Tinkerbell's entire outfit out of one bindweed flower these days.

Maybe the feeling that Tinkerbell is a bit too sassy compared to Victoria Plum is just a sign I'm getting old, though I've never liked her; I thought she was quite nasty in the original Peter Pan book, albeit truer to the original idea of faeries as fickle and malevolent creatures. The smart-talking added-sass Disney version of Tinkerbell does not sit well with me either. Look at Betty Boop - a cartoon character aimed at adults in the 1920s, a self-confessed sex-symbol - and see how Tink's been borrowing from her wardrobe. Interesting how things change.

But then I look at the Victoria Plum and wonder just how practial a long skirt is for woodland-living, and wonder why no fairies wear trousers. Or capri pants, even. And as I look a little longer at Ms Plum, with her 80s hair full of fluffy bigness, I realise that's probably why she wore a hat. What a nightmare that would be to manage! But if ToddlerGirl decides she wants a fairy hat in future, I think that's the way to go.

Drum kit

(Note for readers: for some reason Blogger appears not to 'see' capital zs - so excuse the lowercase where it should be uppercase below - if anyone knows a fix to this problem, do share!)

I was vaguely aware of the launch of zingzillas, but I don't really like the 'people dressed up' style of childrens' programme. It was probably for that reason that I glossed over it until relatively recently. "Oh, people dressed up as monkeys pretending to play in a band, yawn..." said my brain. How wrong was my brain! The characters are growing on me, but the format of the programme looks at a different style or aspect of music (and sometimes associated dance) each week, and it's actually quite interesting. My 1 year old loves it - and there are few more hilarious things than watching a 1 year old dance. I'll put zingzillas on, he watches it, I watch him...

As musical introductions go, I'm much more a fan of that than Space Pirates. I chanced across that briefly a couple of weeks back. The gist is that some kids ask for music based on a theme (e.g. 'holiday'), and the Space Pirates find and play them three tracks; one a 'classic' music video, one a live performance and one a pop-song interpreted by spacerat-puppets. But I never needed to see this again, where I least expected it, lurking inside an apparently innocent kids' programme:

My ears! My ears!! Get back on the Vengabus, you Euro-pop-manglers!

Continuing the musical/ear-punishment theme, I 'made' BabyBoy a drum kit, very loosely based on Tang's from zingzillas. It's approximated as best one can when one's working in the medium of rubbish... 'Made' sounds rather grand when it basically involved collecting tubs and kidding yourself that you needed more Betty Crocker icing. He loves it though, and the sound is not bad... Certainly quieter than the real thing, which is a plus in my book!

The drum-sticks were more properly 'made', to please my husband's paranoia of eye-putting-out, and have taken a fair amount of battering well. They are firm enough to get a decent "whack" but not so pointy as pencils or whatever else might work for impromptu purposes.

Take:
Tubs of various sizes
Some newspaper
Sellotape

For the drums, clean and arrange tubs... Er, that's it.
For the drumsticks, take two sheets of newspaper and roll them diagonally to form a long tube.
Twist the tube in on itself to make a stronger 'pole'
Bind pole tightly in sellotape.
Chop pole in two and tidy the ends. (I also wondered about 'frilling' the end of the newspaper before binding in sellotape, so you could create a 'sweeper' brush for the drum, but I haven't as yet got round to it.)

DIY story book

I suppose, if anything, Driver Dan's Story Train inspired this activity. When it comes on, I always have to pretend to be Driver Dan, ToddlerGirl is Hip and BabyBoy has to be Hop (rabbits, donchaknow). Sundry cuddly toys get to rotate the task of being Twinkle. The redeeming feature of the programme is the stories, which the eponymous lion reads in the later half of the episode - proper books! The first half is some loosely thrown together plot which has something to do with the following story. I'm not really a fan, but it is completely inoffensive and it is a good introduction to some stories I, sorry, we may not otherwise encounter. I've recognised a couple that have come on, but most are new to us. (Another way to find new books is #fictionfriday on Twitter, championed by HomeDad.)

ToddlerGirl's very into her imaginative play. She has a slightly disturbing fascination with pretending dried apricots are babies, and that she is a troll who lives under the bridge (for that, read dining table) who pops up to steal the babies and eat them. She likes it best if I pretend they are my babies and she has to wrest them from me with some semblance of a struggle... There is some deeply disturbing sibling rivalry subtext to this, isn't there? She also likes pretending to sail boats, while pretending her brother's a big fish roaming the seas, so it's not all baby-eating. Honest. She throws him back most times.

Anyway, today I decided to try and channel some of that imagination, as I was tired and wanted to do something sitting-downy. So I made a blank book and got her to tell me the story while I wrote it down. She then drew pictures to go with the words. It was quite good fun!

Take:

Some A4 paper, folded widthways in two (I used 5 sheets)
A needle
Some thread
Coloured pens

Take the folded paper and make two big stitches in it with the needle and thread to hold it together as a book. You could use staples if you wanted, but I couldn't find the stapler. And this way I don't have to worry about the staples coming out and getting eaten or embedded in feet/fingers/other.
Get toddler to tell you a story, and transcribe!
I went for the minimal intervention approach, although I did point out when we were starting to run out of pages that maybe we were getting to the end.

For those of you who are interested, here is the story ToddlerGirl wrote:

Once upon a time...
There was a car and a rabbit.
The rabbit was stuck up a mountain.
The car was stuck in the water. The car was sinking.
Fireman Sam likes rescuing things.
He is going to rescue the rabbit first.
He is going to climb up a ladder and rescue the rabbit.
Now the rabbit isn't stuck any more.
Fireman Sam is going to sail in a boat and rescue the car.
Fireman Sam loves me.
Let's have a picnic for Fireman Sam.
Everybody is happy!
Then Fireman Sam got stuck!
What a silly Fireman Sam!
The car can't reach him.
But the rabbit can jump up high and reach him.
The rabbit jumped high and rescued Fireman Sam.
What a clever Fireman Sam!
Now Fireman Sam isn't stuck.
The rabbit jumped down and they had a picnic and a tea party.
And nobody got stuck again. What silly things!

Small potato prints

I love Small Potatoes. It's like Creature Comforts but with potatoes: sing it with me! "Small potatoes on the moon! Small potatoes in the sea!" Utterly random, but hilarious. And remarkably short at 3 mins or so.

Being so enamoured, I did then feel a bit like a axe-murderer as I hacked into my Baby Charlottes for a spot of spud printing.  I was doing my Christmas shopping online (yes, I am that organised, sometimes) and found ChattyNora's wonderful posters, which although they are hand-drawn have a lovely retro-print feel. And then I had this idea that the kids would like making Christmas cards for the nearest and dearest - told you I was organised - and wouldn't it be simply darling for them to print lovely festive symbols and then shower them with glitter?

Yeah, right. There is a place for glitter, and it isn't all over my floor. I am reminded of the conversation I had with my husband earlier this week about getting a real fir tree for Christmas. There are not enough hours in my day for that amount of hoovering. It gets everywhere. And, with a TMI warning, I mean everywhere - and what goes in must come out. You know what I'm talking about. Glitter makes many things nicer, but the contents of nappies remain unimproved.

But if you wish to pursue the potato printing route, sans glitter, take:

Some small potatoes
A sharp small knife
Some paint
Some paper

Cut off the end of the potato to create a flat surface to work with.
Cut shape/pattern into the end of the potato - simple is best, in my experience. Holly leaf, snowflake and stars, for instance. The areas left raised are what will print, so you need to cut away quite deeply in order to get a clear stamp.
Splat spud into paint, wipe off excess if possible.
Make prints.

Needless to say, potatoes are not suitable for eating after use!

Plant races

Let it never be said I don't share my failures as well as success.

I stand by the concept as sound in principle, but let down by poor execution and maintenance. Time has been at a premium of late as I have been prepping like mad for job interviews, fending off vomiting babies and slumping glassy-eyed on the sofa at the end of it all. The more eagle-eyed among you may have noticed that blog output has dropped accordingly.

I can't blame that alone on the failure of this project, as it has been some weeks now and the plant pots are resolute in their determination not to hint at any sign of germination. But hang on, you say, what exactly was the project? Allow me to divulge...

Having watched the Mr Bloom episode on 'growing', and having had some genuinely interesting conversations with ToddlerGirl about the difference between something that is made and something that is grown, the idea was to plant two fruit stones and then race them, to see which grew first. The result, as you can see, is a dead heat. Possibly with the emphasis on dead.

I may un-inter the fruit stones and see if anything at all had started to happen before I lapsed in my watering efforts but, as I may have mentioned previously, I'm a bit rubbish at growing stuff.

If you want to try such an enterprise and have more commitment to the cause than I, take:

2 plant pots
Some compost
2 fruit stones of different species - we used plum and peach

Stick compost in pots.
Plant stones in pots.
Water regularly.
Wait.
And wait.
And wait.

All rights reserved to give up and revert back to watercress...

Watercress Oakley

I was in the pub with a friend (pre-kids, so long ago!) who was trying to describe this programme she had seen with blue rabbits and talking trees and it all sounded nonsensical and surreal... Not uncommon for things to sound nonsensical and surreal after a few bevvies, but I have latterly come to the conclusion that she must have stumbled upon Everything's Rosie.

It's got talking trees! The last kids thing I watched with talking trees was The Last Unicorn film. And that was a rather over-familiar, one might even say 'fruity', tree. If you have seen the cartoon, you'll know what I mean. If you haven't, here's the clip.

Is Oakley a derivative of that proto-tree? You decide...

If you want to grow your own Oakley, take:

A section of kitchen roll
Some Tipp-ex or white paint
A black felt-tip
Some cotton wool
Watercress seeds

Draw an Oakley face on the kitchen roll - using white paint or Tipp-Ex makes the eyes stand out
Stuff the roll with cotton wool
Sprinkle watercress seeds on top!
Water the seeds - keep the kitchen roll tube slightly damp to stop the seeds drying out
Wait a few days for Oakley's 'branches' to grow!

(THEN EAT THEM!! MWAH HA HA HAA!!)

Stick horse

Mock me, will you sock? Roaming defiantly un-paired? Well HA! This'll teach you.

I'm not a fan of princesses in general, but for Little Princess I will make an exception. She's 4 years old, charming, frustrating, stroppy... did I mention she's 4 years old? I'm told she's very like I was at that age.

Visually, it reminds me of King Rollo, but it's actually drawn by Tony Ross of Horrid Henry fame. Little Princess lives in a castle, with her Mummy, Queen (who's permanently wearing a headscarf, crown balanced on top) and Daddy, King (usually wearing a tie and scruffy jacket). They are pretty much a normal family but they happen to be royal. And there's sundry other supporting characters who live with them in the castle - take the Prime Minister, for instance. To quote his biog on the Little Princess website, he'd "rather ride around on his tricycle with the Princess than run the country". Obviously a Tory then.

It's very wittily observed. Little Princess is pretty much at the centre of all things, and yes, I can relate to the feeling that your household is run around your preschooler. Of the staff, the General is my favourite, all well-meaning bumbling and 5 o'clock shadow. He rides Nessie, the stick-horse which inspired this activity. Have you seen Monty Python & The Holy Grail, where the knights pretend to ride horses but are just followed by a chap clapping coconut shells together? It's that sort of deal with the General's horse. Plus there's a wonderful romantic subtext going on with the General and the Maid that's begging for it's own ITV2 miniseries. (How I wish I had a Maid! I'd settle for a General though, if he was good at washing up... heck, I'd settle for a dishwasher.)

I'm not keen on princesses, all beautifully useless waiting for their princes. And I do think that the 'princess' message pushed at our kids is potentially damaging, especially when there are books like this in school libraries today (as dissected in an excellent blog post by SenseofEntitlement). However Little Princess is much more "real" than the usual princess fantasies; being 4 years old helps, of course, as even princesses have to learn how to use the potty. All in all, it's one of the programmes that I will hop across to Five for; it foregrounds relationships in most of the plots, getting along with people, helping each other, and that sort of thing, but not in a preachy or idealised way. It's a world much closer to one that I recognise... apart from the Maid thing*. But if we had a maid we wouldn't have stray socks available for horse-transformations, so there's an upside for you.

Anyway, you can buy yourself a real "Nessie" for the princely sum of around £15. Or you can fashion your own by using the inner tube from some wrapping paper and a sock.

Take:

One sturdy tube of around 1m length (ours was from some old Xmas wrapping paper)
One sock - white for preference
Some newspaper
A rubber band
Some white paper and some brown/black paper - or fabric if you want something more permanent
Some felt-tip pens - washable, if you're bothered about re-using the sock

Take the sock and stuff it with newspaper, up to just beyond the heel.
Insert tube into neck of the sock.
Sellotape edge of sock to the tube, and loop a rubber band around it for added security.
Draw a face and spots on the sock
Cut out two 'arches' out of the white paper and fold in two lengthways.
Use sellotape to attach these 'ears' to the horse.
Cut a length of brown or black paper and frill it for a mane.
Sellotape mane to horse - I cut tabs and alternated the side I stuck the tab down to make the mane stand straighter.
(You could use fabric and stitch the mane and ears on instead - I was going for a fast make so didn't bother. If the appeal proves durable, I may re-make it in that fashion. If I can be bothered.)

Gee up! Get busy with the boxes and toys for an obstacle course/jump race for the littl'uns...


*And we don't have a pond either. Or an Admiral stood in it. Or in fact any staff at all...

Are you living with a toddler or foreign exchange student?

Let's check:
* Are you struggling with the language barrier?

* Do you regularly suffer from cultural misunderstandings, or appear to have mis-matched cultural norms?

* Do they have strange ideas about what constitutes weather-appropriate clothing for your climate?

* Do they regard with suspicion any food you present them with, or refuse to eat it at all in preference to their own tried and trusted favourites?

If you answered yes to all of the above, please check you haven't accidentally taken a stray foreign exchange student home from the supermarket instead of your own toddler. It's an easy mistake to make.

My parenting bookshelf

I know some parents dismiss parenting books out of hand - "I don't need books to tell me how to raise my kids!" - but I hope I wouldn't be so arrogant as to think there's nothing left to learn. (Arrogant, moi? Only when the mood takes me.) One thing I do know is that there's no one right way to parent: that's why there's so many different approaches and books on the market and not a single "Parenting Bible". Now, some may be more right than others but that's my personal opinion, of course...

So many of these books are just that though, opinion based. A book I really rate is 'Unconditional Parenting', by Alfie Kohn. It's one of the rare books that backs up what it asserts with proper research studies. Something that I think you will find lacking in many of the 'popular parenting programmes' on television today. Kohn takes a bit of a kicking from people who don't really understand his approach, and in part I believe that's because his book outlines the approach without really tooling you up on how to apply it. You have to think, quite a lot, about how it applies to you, your child, and the situation you're in. It's not a 'one-size-fits-all' naughty step for two minutes, forced apology and hug approach.

Being a parent is, to state the obvious, hard. I've always been either in education or employment and with the former you get grades to let you know how you're doing, and in the latter you have objectives against which you are appraised. Basically, there's always someone else there to sit you down and say "you're doing okay, good job!". With parenting, I miss that structure. I am Lisa Simpson, screaming "Grade me, grade me!" now school's shut down. (Which ironically is one of the points Alfie Kohn makes about how damaging reward-based discipline can be. You lose your ability to trust yourself, seeking praise and valuing only what others tell you is "right" or "good".)

With a few parenting years under my belt I am learning to trust myself more, particularly now I have a second child and know the world won't end if he accidentally eats dirt from the garden. I am learning to trust that I will make the right decisions for them, mostly - and if in fact I make the wrong decision sometimes, that's still a useful experience from which to learn and improve. But it's nice to be able to reach for a book at times when whatever's going on is foxing me a bit, or I get to the end of day like today when gritted teeth are the only thing that's got me to bedtime and I need some fresh resolve or ideas.

My general slant on parenting, the one I strive for, is a "working with" rather than a "doing to" approach. It's not always the one that comes easily, but it is the one that I aspire to. So, my parenting bookshelf includes:

Unconditional Parenting - Alfie Kohn
How To Talk So Kids Will Listen (And Listen So Kids Will Talk) - Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish
When Kids Push Your Buttons (And What You Can Do About It) - Bonnie Harris


These are the ones I would recommend, and they all cover "toddlers to teens", so I expect to continue to get plenty of mileage out of them! I've read plenty of awful books too, but won't name and shame them here (who knows, maybe they work well for others). The Kohn book emphasises an approach, How To Talk So Kids Will Listen gives practical tips, and When Kids Push Your Buttons looks at how your own 'agenda' as a parent can create stress-points that cause showdowns between you and your child, and how adjusting your own attitudes and expectations can yield better outcomes.

I find the books helpful because they encourage me to think about things from different perspectives and consider what underlies the behaviour of my children, to try and deal with the cause and not the outward symptom. It also makes me think about how the effects of what I say and do as experienced by the person on the receiving end is not always the same as what I intend. For instance, when was the last time you were sent to your room to "think about what you've done" and actually thought about what you'd done as opposed to "this is SOOOO UNFAIR!"?! The toddler years are interesting in all sorts of ways, but boy, I'm glad I've got plenty of time to prepare myself for the teenage stage...