Telling the Truth About the Tooth Fairy

Over the Summer, Bean lost a front tooth. Cue the obvious visit by the tooth fairy.

The next day, he called me for a private conversation, away from his brother’s prying ears.

I had no idea what it was going to be about.

With a coy smile, he asked me who the tooth fairy was.

A little taken aback, I asked him who he thought it was.

He immediately replied; “You!”

I thought about continuing the lie, but as promised (mostly to Mr. Strawberry) I resigned to tell him the truth. We always said, in those ‘how will we parent our children’ discussions, we would go along with the fun and games of Christmas and tooth fairies and all that palaver until they asked with straight faces.

“But it’s a fun story don’t you think?” I asked in reply.

We then chatted about how sometimes it’s nice to believe in stories and how boring life would be without stories and imagination.

I’ve written about this before, so it’s obviously something that is close to my heart. I love all things fantastical and my life would be genuinely awful without my nightly escape into someone else’s world when I tuck myself into bed with a book. Everything I said in this blog post, only a year ago, I still stand by. I didn’t tell Ed the truth that day because I knew he wasn’t ready, but Bean obviously was this time. He has lost teeth since and has put them under his pillow with gusto, so my truth telling clearly hasn’t destroyed his childhood.

My worry is, as we head into December, Timmy Twinkles will of course be returning and I can only hope he gets a good reception….

Knicker Flashing

Okay, so I don’t have any little girls, but if I did, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t flash their knickers in public.

When I pick the boys up from school, their teacher sends them to me, but after a brief hello they go straight to the trim trail in the playground and climb on it until I insist that actually, I’d really like to go home now, if only to feed them.

Boys and girls from both infants and juniors do the same, and there’s always some knicker flashing involved.

A friend of mine, when I expressed these concerns, told me she didn’t think it was any different from wearing a bikini, or playing on a beach in your pants. But I can’t help but think it’s about appropriateness. You wouldn’t let your kid go to school in a swimming costume would you? The only places you can go out in a bikini yourself is on holiday or those stupidly hot days, but it wouldn’t be round the Birmingham Bullring, it’d be round some tourist coastal town. And even prudish me has let the boys play in a local park paddling pool in just their pants on an unexpectedly roasting day.

My lovely friend also made a very sensible point that these days, kids are over sexualized. And she’s right of course, but for me it’s more about equality. There aren’t any boys flashing their pants, and why is that? Oh, it’s because they don’t have to wear a stupid skirt. In shorts or trousers, they are free to climb and jump and hang upside down without flashing their pants. Bellies maybe but not pants. Some of the older girls wear shorts under their skirts and that’s super, that’s how I spent my teenage-hood (there was a fair amount of skirt lifting when I was at school so shorts were the only way to go).

It’s not that I’m offended by the sight of underwear, I just feel bad for the girls. I would never let my boys flash their pants outside the house. I guess some parents of girls just don’t feel it’s an issue. Girls like to do handstands, cartwheels and dangle from the climbing bars too, and no-one should be stopping them. Maybe parents of girls just don’t get time to think in between frozen sing-a-longs, dance/martial arts class and the usual “Mummy, watch me, I made a dance up, watch me Mummy!” They should be applauded regardless because it must be a hell of a job. My memories of being one myself and watching my baby sister grow up tell me its a fuck load of drama.

I’ll be honest, if you come to my house, expect to see naked boys. I insist on underwear if we have a guest (even if it’s my sister) and clothes if it’s someone we don’t know very well (like when a SafeStyle salesman came to give us a quote).

But while only wearing underwear, they know only too well they aren’t to play in the windows or come to the door. I’m protective over their man bits because someone should be until their old enough to take charge.

And, just so you all know, I wouldn’t have a problem if my boys wear skirts if they wanted to, but I’d probably insist on a little pair of shorts underneath.

What do you think?

Raising Girls Must be Easy

Girls have it so easy.

They get their choice of colours, hobbies and a massive array of clothing.

Clothes shopping for boys is rubbish. As a Mum of two boys, we have one section, hidden amongst rows and rows of girls clothes and accessories, and even then it's mostly dull trousers shrouded by overpriced marvel t-shirts.

Once again my five year old, Bean, has been in my closet and helped himself to my perfume because Mia (at school) is allowed to wear perfume and she apparently she smells nice. When I asked him how many sprays he had used, he admitted to five, maybe six. I feel like my overloaded nose might explode, but I can't really be angry with him.

We made him his own using essential oils. He chose a rather fruity, citrus smell, which he can over spray to his heart's content, though he is learning quickly that two will do.
In case you're intrigued; we made the perfume using a few drops of essential oils we simply liked the smell of added to 10ml almond oil, give it a shake, add 5ml glycerin and 5ml vodka, shake again then add cooled boiled water. Shake before use.

Whenever I take a few moments to put some nail varnish on, the always insist on having some too, so I let them wear it on their toes because I can't send them to school with it on their fingers; not because they're boys, but because I think it's against school uniform rules (ever the avid rule follower and I still haven't ever used nail varnish remover on their little delicate fingers). In the school holidays they can have it where ever they want. I just know even if it isn't against school rules, the teachers may pull them up on it anyway and I don't want them to be embarrassed, especially if it happened in front of the whole class. How can I explain to a five year old that some people think boys shouldn't wear nail varnish?

Last Christmas, Bean asked for a kitten. I wasn't going to invest in a real live cat as we already have a rather nervous dog who would not take well to an intruder, so I got him a toy kitten which purrs and everything. Of course it was from the girlie aisle in the toy store. And it had a little pink bow on it's head. My terrified husband, being the 'man's man' he is, requested I snip it off, but I forgot. Bean didn't notice the bow. He was only cross that it wasn't real.

A week or so ago, Bean was sad because a class mate had told him he couldn't go to Ashleigh's birthday party because she's having girlie pamper party. Little do these Mum's realise just how much he would've enjoyed it and how ostracised he felt being left out.

When chatting to some friends about this, one of them had a similar issue with a party her son wasn't invited to for the same reason but it just turned out to be a crafty party which her little guy would've have really enjoyed.

At this young age, I think they should have more freedom do to whatever they want to, wear what ever they want to. Let them learn who they want to be before piling on the social restraints of 'being a man'.

Ed, my seven year old, is very literally minded and likes to put things into boxes in his head. I haven't told him 'pink is for girls' but I guess the kids at school have because that's what he believes.
I find myself constantly reminding both my boys that there's no sensible reason to turn down everything pink or purple, letting girls have all the choice, leaving themselves two colours short. I tend to buy our plastic crockery in multi-coloured packs, so if nothing else it means the pink bowls get used rather than disregarded because (apparently) they're too girlie.

I used to clean a preschool for a few hours every day and sometimes, the boys would come with me. Ed would usually play Minecraft on his device but Bean would often reach for the giant Barbie house and spend his time dressing the dolls. He got a lot of joy out of it and I loved watching him but why did it feel like he was going against some kind of grain? 

Why did it feel so unusual?

Yes, he put Ken in a dress.

After doing a spot of internet research, I've come to the conclusion that I just don't give a damn.
The world can be cruel and kids can be truly horrid, I can't protect either of them from that. All I can do is provide them with a safe place where they can grow into whoever they want to be and ensure they know they can always come to me.
During my research, I came across a comment by someone whose parents were not supportive of her preferences. They told her she'd be picked on for her love of Star Trek, that it was too geeky, so when she was bullied at school, she found it difficult to stand up for herself simply because without her parents loving support, she presumed they were probably right. That's awful! 
I would much rather be the parent who says, yes, you might get picked on for your pink nail varnish but screw them! You do want you want, you're an amazing human being. I love you, your friends love you and some people can just be really small minded. They're wrong, not you. You are the only you....I could go on.

Don't worry, I'm not naive enough to presume girls don't have their own issues regarding gender, it just seems to me that its more acceptable for a girl to be a tom boy than for a boy to be girlie sometimes. This issue has a lot more facets to it than I can put into sentences, this is simply how it effects us day to day.

My main concern is raising two well-rounded boys, who won't judge other people for their own choices, who will ignore the opinions of bigoted idiots and be happy in their own sense of self.
Doing so without pushing them into gender opposing ideas is a fine line, but how will we ever be truly equal if there is a standard disregard for 'girlie' things by our little boys? If we let our little boys turn down nail varnish, or even bright clothing because 'it's for girls', how can we stop little boys saying football is only for boys?
If a boy is ridiculed for wanting to be a nurse or a carer, how will a girl feel when she goes for the CEO job?
Gender equality has to work both ways, but at the same time I won't be pushing my boys into donning the pink nail varnish. I'll let them do what they want, even if it is influenced by whatever the kids at school are saying. As a society, I think we've come a very long way in a short amount of time and we've become a lot more accepting of people and their life choices. Rather than pushing (and consequently making life difficult for my boys), I think I'd be better off letting it carry on evolving for the better. I'm pretty certain by the time Bean is in High School, people's attitude will be even further improved and if his preference for dressing well (and in the brightest colours he can find)........oh no.....I have to interrupt my sentence here because everything I'm thinking is a stereotype and I should know better than that. I'll put it this way; if Bean, or Ed for that matter, grows up and finds he prefers boys, he will know he is loved and I'm sure his school friends, whoever they may be, will support him in his choices.
Well, I hope so anyway.

Anyway, back to the subject of gender fluidity (yes, boys liking girlie things (the girls liking boy things) has been given a name), a few months ago, while watching David Walliams kiss Orlando Bloom on Comic Relief night, Bean exclaimed "I've never seen two boys kissing!" as though it was weird. 
I immediately replied with "Dude, you watched your Uncle marry a bloke only last Summer!" 
Cue a long conversation/rant about how love is love and it doesn't matter who you fall in love with.
Unfortunately, mid rant, it's difficult to get the balance right between ensuring my children know I'll accept them whoever they become and pushing what might be unnatural for them. I don't want to add to the confusion of teenhood. I don't want them to question who they are just because I gave them too many choices. Oh, it's so complicated and I'm concerned I'm saying this all wrong. 
All I want is for them to be happy. That's all.
And maybe I'll let them wear nail varnish on their fingers, it probably wouldn't do any harm to break a small rule every now and then...
I shall promise to worry less about what other people might think, trust my children to stick up for themselves and maybe not over think every little thing ;)

Brave Face: Teaching Children to be Honest

As adults we often find ourselves giving the world our happy face regardless of what's going on inside. We have people in our lives we can be truly honest with, who when they ask how we are, rather than give them the "fine, how are you?" response, we tell them the truth, good and bad. 

When I collected Bean from school on Thursday, he had his arms wrapped around his tummy and his little face was white as a sheet. He was obviously quite poorly and his teacher handed him over seeming oblivious. As soon as we got in the car he fell asleep and proceeded to spend his evening sleeping in the sofa, waking only to puke in a bowl. He perked up around 8pm and happily got ready for bed despite skipping dinner and sleeping for almost five hours that afternoon. 

He was fine after a good nights sleep but because he'd been sick in the last 24 hours he couldn't go to school, so we had a lovely chilled out day together. 

When we collected his brother at 3pm, I picked up Bean's homework from his teacher and asked if she knew he was poorly. Apparently, she had no clue. 

Now I know Bean had a rubbish short term memory so it's difficult to drag the truth about what happened, but when questioned he told me he had felt poorly both before and after lunchtime, which means my poor sausage had felt dreadful all day and not bothered to tell anyone.  I, of course, explained to both boys that if they ever felt poorly at school, they ought to tell a teacher and I'd be happy to come fetch them so I could take care of them. There's no reason to suffer though it.

But it bothered me that Bean couldn't tell his teacher, who is lovely. I hope she doesn't feel bad about not noticing how ill he was. I know my boys and if they want to put on a brave face for the world, they will, keeping all their feelings saved up for when they see me. Ed is the same, he keeps everything bottled up all day only to release a tirade of emotions when I collect him. I wish they could be more comfortable with their teachers, though they have only been at this new school for five months, they need to be open and honest with their teachers.  Especially if new situations arise, like if someone started bullying them, they need to be able to tell someone at the school. 

I don't really know how to deal with this, aside from talking to them, encouraging them to be open with their teacher, instilling the idea that their teacher is a safe place and giving them more time to get used to their new school. 

On the plus side, despite how busy and distracted I can get, I am obviously still their favourite 'safe place' and I can't help but enjoy that feeling of being needed by my little people. I must be doing an okay job of being there for them when they need me *mini happy dance*.

I think the 'brave face' has a place in our lives, we can't go around opening up to everyone who glances in our direction, that would be weird (and we've all experienced that person at the bus stop who suddenly launches into their life story, which only leaves you thinking "why can't I drive?") but I think there needs to be a certain amount of people you can open up to. For my boys, I think they should have someone at home (obviously) and someone at school. In fact, thinking about it, the people who are truly miserable at work seem to be the people who haven't got anyone they can be truly honest with in that place. So maybe we need one at home, one at work, one at whatever social activity we do.

What do you think? 

Are things uncomfortable when you don't have a confidante in each surroundings you find yourself in on a regular basis?

Silent Sunday

How To Up-Cycle Your Kids Favourite T-Shirts

My boys have feisty opinions about what they wear and when they're not butt naked, they're wearing their favourite trousers and t-shirts. So, over the last few years, when they've grown out of their absolute favourites, I have been up-cycling the pictures on them onto new, plain tees. Sure, I could go out and get him a new Batman tee, but this way is much cheaper and they're made just for them. Sometimes, family members buy them designer clothes and worse than watching them chuck chocolate ice cream down a beautifully made tee is watching them grow a little tight around the edges, which is how this all started in the first place. I could never face getting rid of them and the boys loved them so much. Our favourite designer tees were all applique anyway so I was inspired to re-applique them onto new, bigger tees.

So, obviously, to get started you need a grown out of tee, an iron, some bondaweb and a sewing machine or a needle & thread. 

You can go as crazy as you like with this too, there are no limits, except your imagination.

I once cut out all the images on a pair of Buzz Lightyear trousers and lovingly hand-stitched them onto a Summer hat.

Here we go; 

1. Lay out your tee.

 

2. Cut out the image you want to keep. Chuck the rest. You want to cut it out quite roughly, there's no need to be pedantic. You'll need plenty of around the edges. 

3. Lay out your image(s) on the bondaweb. Trim it as close as you can, you do not want that stuff sticking to your ironing board or your iron. You can use some of your rough edges to ensure a close trim. 

4. Flatten everything nicely and iron until the bondaweb has stuck. Most kids t-shirt images can't be ironed on, so just do it from the back, but don't forget to check it's flat on the other side, jersey (t-shirt fabric) can have a mind of it's own.

5. Now trim the edges nicely. You can be as pedantic as you like, or you can make your sewing much easier by just doing a very basic shape or by rounding everything off. I tend to leave a small edge around the image so I don't have to sew on the actual image.

6. Lay out the new t-shirt and place the image where you want it.

Because you often can't iron directly on t-shirt images, I use a piece of A4 paper because I find it gives me more control than using a tea towel or something and the heat transfers well. You could also use baking parchment or greaseproof paper.

7. You're ready to sew.

I made a few since I'd bought a triple pack of long-sleeve tees for about £7 from Asda.

You can hand stitch it (bearing in mind a CHILD will be wearing it and we all know what they do with their clothes) or use a sewing machine.

I use a free motion embroidery foot because I want to practise with it more, so no, my stitching isn't perfect but the boys won't be complaining and it's not about perfect stitching. This is a free-for-all, go for it!

If you manage to follow my dodgy instructions, I'd love to see what you make, please show off your handiwork in the comments below.

Good luck and a Happy New Year to you all xxx

Learning Self Love.

When I was younger, much younger, my friends and I would go to the MegaDisco.

If I remember rightly, it was a monthly event at our local leisure centre, a disco aimed at 13-18 year olds where we could pretend we were slightly older than we actually were.

The thing I remember the most about these events is the competition to kiss as a many boys as possible.

I don't know why I thought this was a good idea.

My friends didn't particularly take part, it was mostly my sister and I. 
Probably mostly me.

I vaguely remember having a conversation with my Mum about it, her asking why on earth I'd want to kiss that many boys and me trying to explain that it was just for a laugh.

Obviously the thought of it now, in my slightly wiser years, makes me feel a bit queasy. 
Sharing that many germs....ugh. 
And the obvious lack of self respect.

A tad off topic, but quite recently we had a slightly inappropriate moment when my 5 year old boy kissed a older boy goodbye after a period of time playing together. The next day we had a small conversation about who we should maybe save our kisses for. 
I think the same applies here. 

Kisses shouldn't be for just anyone.

Earlier on Facebook I read an interesting meme which said that kissing induces the same feel good chemicals as cocaine. Whether it's true or not, I haven't investigated, but I know how I feel when I kiss my husband, I know that flood of.....what's the word, without sounding gross......yumminess. Whatever it is, it's completely lovely.

What kind of bothers me is that if I had a daughter, and she told me about this, would I let her go to the MegaDisco again?
No. 
No I wouldn't. 
At least not until she'd learnt to love herself more.

(Yes, I can hear what you're thinking...she's a teenager, she'll find another way to do the hell she wants, she'll just not tell you anymore, etc, etc. Man am I glad I don't have any little girls!)
What worries me the most is, where does it end? A long list of snog mates? A few fumbles in dark corners? A quick bang round the back?

I can't help thinking this was the beginning of something horrible.

I wish I had know years ago that my self worth is not connected to who fancies me, how many boys I've kissed....and all the junk that goes with that.
Like a 'gateway' drug, is a kissing competition the start of a life of promiscuity? Possibly.

Being a Mum is hard, so I'm not trying to be judgemental on my own, especially as her own Mother was such a rubbish role model, but I wish she'd loved herself more, and therefore shown me how to love myself more.
I wish I'd known how much I matter when I was younger. I would've enjoyed my younger years a hell of lot more! You know the saying, 'youth is wasted on the young'? It's so very very true. I spent years hating myself, searching for love and respect in all the wrong places, trying to find justification for the space I was taking up and all that useful air I was breathing. I spent years worrying about what other people thought of me, and using their twisted opinions as the basis for my self worth.

I wish, when we'd had that conversation about how many boys I'd kissed, I wish she'd pointed out how much more I deserved, how disrespectful it was, how the focus of my evening should have been my friends, having a good old boogie and a great night. 
Not about boys.

I wonder how many years of sobbing over the crappy things teenage boys do to teenage girls would have been saved if the nail had been hit on the head then.

Maybe none. Maybe most of them. We'll never know.

But one thing we know for sure. If we teach our kids self love and self respect, they'll be much better off for it. And the only way to teach those things is to practise it in front of them. 

No one can fool a child into learning to love themselves when they know Mummy doesn't like herself that much.
So, go look in the mirror, find something you love about yourself.
Find something you're really good at.
Think about your great friends and family, and how much they love you.
Be happy with who you are not who you think you should be, and surely your small people will follow happily behind.

Ed's 5th Birthday

My eldest son Ed enjoyed his 5th birthday this week.
It's crazy to think it's been five years since I became a mother, how my world has changed! But I won't bang on about sleepless nights, cleaning up someone else's bodily functions or the severe lack of 'nights out' in my life now, I just couldn't let his birthday slide past without a mention. He had a lovely day, followed by a great party which left him with far too many new toys (which I now have to find homes for, straight after christmas too, what fun).
I love this photo because it epitomises how excited he was and how much he loved his cake, lovingly handcrafted by me.
Good times.
Thank you to all who came to the party, sent cards, gifts or well wishes xxx