There are a couple of very mainstream parenting boards I read and post on occassionally. There is something I’d dearly love to post about but I don’t think I have the guts! I really need to rant though, so I’m going to do it here:
Why, why, why do people force their babies and children to do things that are so upsetting to them? There are so many posts saying “my daughter hates school, what should I do?”; “my son screams in distress whenever I drop him at nursery”; “my daughter’s just started wetting the bed since she started school”; ”my son’s being bullied and he’s only 5!” and so on and so forth. I always try to find out if the parents are needed to work to try and make myself understand why they are forcing their children to do these things despite all the signs of emotional distress, but mostly there is no reason other than that making your child do these things is part of being a parent. People even write about how they feel pathetic when it upsets them seeing their child in distress! The same sort of thing is written by parents who are having trouble doing controlled crying with their babies. Why can’t people hear their instincts screaming out to them “this is wrong…stop doing it!”? Why can’t they hear their children screaming out “I’m not ready for this!”? Sometimes I wonder whether it’s because they just don’t know any other way…but then when I try to suggest ‘other ways’ I get shouted down. So it’s not that they think there is no alternative - they truly believe the alternative would be more harmful than what they’re doing already. In response to a query about whether or not to bring a distressed baby into the parents’ bed in the night, one poster said “I wouldn’t. You might find it hard to get her back in her own bed and who wants a toddler sleeping in their bed???”. Is a toddler in your bed for a few years better or worse than your baby growing up into an emotionally insecure person for the rest of his life? There is so much evidence showing how it really is damaging to a baby’s brain to be left to cry and not to be able to form secure attachments to a small number of significant adults but people just disregard it. A colleague of mine said, in response to the programme to be screened on C4 (comparing different parenting strategies) that if they proposed doing an experiment whereby children from one family were fed refined-sugary foods for a week and another on really healthy food, no one would ever take part because the role food has on health is well documented in the media. But the effect on a child’s health of bad food could easily and quickly be reversed, unlike the experiment of leaving a baby to cry vs. meeting his needs…the results of which will affect that child for his entire life.
Edited to add: So, I got up the guts and posted it. Immediately got flamed. The answer to my question is that parents just refuse to believe the evidence and truly, truly trust that if it’s in a book, and in a book that’s popular, then it must be right even if there are other books saying the opposite that are actually evidence-based rather than opinion-based. But, I still don’t understand why parents refuse to believe the evidence?
Edited to add again!: When I posted my post, I initially regretted it when I got flamed. I’ve since had some much more helpful responses and I am starting to understand a bit more. The thing is that I am lucky. I’ve not only been brought up trusting in instincts, but have been supported and encouraged in that trust. I’ve read books and spent time with people who also feel the same way. There’s a new mum at our HE group who plans to HE and plans to do it autonomously but is very wary that it might mean her children won’t learn key things. Don’t we all worry about that? But doesn’t the extent to which we worry about it diminish the more time we spend with other autonomously HE’d children older than our own and the more we see our children learning without our teaching them? So, whether or not we’re exposed to alternative ideas, if we don’t have support for them from those around us, and, perhaps more importantly, don’t see them working out for other families older than our own, then we may never truly have the courage to trust that the alternatives really do work and really do allow children to be happy and fulfilled and to grow into independence. People are saying things like ’well it’s all very well but what happens when they’re still running to Mummy when they’re 18?’ or ‘taking a bullied child out of school just teaches them to run away from things’. Unless parents see what happens to children who are removed from unhappy situations; unless they see that these children flourish and become happy, self-confident individuals who branch out into genuine independence happily and securely at an appropriate age; they will never trust that responding to their child’s distress and alleviating it as soon as they can will be the best option. To so many parents, stopping a child crying by cuddling it will spoil them and no research will persuade them otherwise unless they repeatedly see real-life examples. I wish I could package up all that I’ve been lucky enough to learn and experience and hand it to other parents, but I can’t. All parents have to make their journey themselves and I have to just hope that the small exposure they may have to how we do things, and to how our children turn out, might add to any other exposure they have to similar families and might, just might, give them the confidence to trust their children.
Mopsy is currently honing her fine motor skills by attempting to (and succeeding in) eat a chocolate cupcake with a pair of tweezers 
Just got a great wooden kitchen off freecycle. We’d wanted to get a wooden one in the first place but plastic is just plain cheaper! So that’s what Flopsy got for her third birthday. This wooden one we’ve just got we’d never have been able to afford and Flopsy and Mopsy are chuffed to bits with it and so we’re freecycling the plastic one.
We’ve been having a sorting craze lately, since sorting out the linking things the other day. Mopsy’s been sorting bricks into colours and then into shapes. Flopsy’s been sorting words out - I made a load of cards with words starting with sl; sp; sh and st and Flopsy sorted them out then wanted to do more so we did br; bl; th and tr.
This is a programme due to be screened next week on C4 in the UK. Not sure if I’ll be able to watch it without exploding in frustration. Here’s an article about it. And this is what I posted in the comments - not sure if they’ll get published though:
I can’t think of an easier, happier way of doing things than following your instincts and responding to your baby’s needs. Leaving babies to cry is distressing and harmful to their emotional development. Buggies are a pain in the neck and bad for the development of babies’ language. Cots mean you have to wake up and get up frequently. On the other hand meeting a baby’s needs before he has to cry means fewer stress hormones rushing round his little body, bathing his brain and damaging his delicate new neural connections. Carrying baby in a sling gives you two hands free to do whatever you need (wash up/hold toddlers’ hands/whatever) and keeps your baby calm. Sharing sleep means that, not only do you get less tired as you don’t have to wake so often, but also your presence helps your baby to regulate his breathing, temperature, heart rate and hormones ie. it’s safer.
Oh yes, and being close to your baby is so wonderful and lovely too
The Continuum Concept mum said that it’s hard work doing it that way…surely it can’t possibly be harder work than fighting your instincts, being a slave to a routine and making up bottles? Mothering is hard work. Too often breastfeeding/co-sleeping/baby-wearing is blamed when actually these things make the hard work of mothering easier, not harder.
As we had such a nice day today, I thought I’d document it. It started with myself and Flopsy getting up at 8ish to get dressed while Mopsy and Cotton-tail slept on. We were due to be at a new toddler group run by friends of ours at 9.30 so I’d planned to wake the younger two at 8.30 if they hadn’t already woken. They woke at about 8.15 so we made our way downstairs and had breakfast while watching CBeebies. Then we went out. When we got there we found I’d got the wrong week so we decided to walk to the local library that I knew was close by. It turned out we had twenty minutes to wait until it opened but the girls were keen to wait so we did. The librarians turned out to be really lovely and I was a bit sad that the library is so far from our house! We got some books out and I picked up (eventually) the bookstart packs for Flopsy and Mopsy’s age group which meant six brand new books to add to the new ones Cotton-tail got the other day. We also took some more books out and paid some fines 
When we left for home it was about 11am and we were really hungry having had breakfast so early (for us!) and I knew it would take ages before we could settle back home and make lunch so we decided to have a *gasp* McDonalds which the girls were chuffed to bits with and ate every last morsel. Then we examined the bookstart packs. Flopsy also had the last one which was a sturdy cardboard ‘treasure chest’ so, after reading the books and doing a bit of colouring in with the free crayons they played ‘hunting for treasure’ which involved filling the box with random things and then burying it under whatever they could find - Cotton-tail’s discarded clothes; beanbags; books; cushions; pens; toys - and then digging it up by hurling all the stuff over their shoulders! It amused them for a long time so I tried to grit my teeth about the mess they were creating.
Cotton-tail started to get quite sleepy by this time and Flopsy started playing on the computer while I fed her to sleep and put her in bed. Mopsy was pottering around her and discovered some pritt-sticks in the computer desk drawer so decided to do some sticking, and asked me to do some too which I did. Flopsy came over and joined in which was lovely. Then I checked my emails and listend to Flopsy pretend to be a CBeebies presenter showing Mopsy how to do things: “You need to get a grown-up helper to help with this bit…it’s very tricky”. When they tired of sticking, Mopsy went to the fridge to get the playdough out. I helped them clear up the sticking and went to get the playdough cutters etc. out which reminded them of some plastic linking shapes my cousin bought Flopsy for her birthday to make necklaces with so the playdough went back in the fridge un-played-with and we started to make necklaces. I suggested we sort them out so the girls went eagerly to find bowls to sort them into and we all got stuck in:
Then we made necklaces for rag doll and for Mopsy’s baby and then decided to put them away and play Happyland instead. Then they changed their mind and asked to play ’schools’ which involves me ringing the kitchen timer and sitting at the table with them and their workbooks and pretending to be a teacher and ringing the kitchen timer again at random times to signal playtime and lesson-time. They invented it…honest!
Then Mopsy woke up and we got ready to go to Cheltenham (where DH works) to buy new shoes (for the winter), vests, socks and tights and nightdresses. We did the Park and Ride, successfully got shoes for Flopsy but there were none that fitted Mopsy properly so we’ll get her some from a different shop tomorrow. Flopsy’s desperate for a long-sleeved nightdress to wear this winter (she normally wears pyjamas) but I can’t find one anywhere! I’ve been looking online all evening and I’m starting to think I’ll have to make her one so might be out looking for nice brushed cotton tomorrow! Mopsy got a bit stressed out in town, but then both she and Cotton-tail have horrid colds and both have gone to sleep tonight with a slight temperature.
Oh, funny thing Flopsy said the other day: I was lying in bed with all three of them cuddled up to me the other morning before we got up. I said “Mmmm…this is lovely…I’m in Heaven”. Flopsy said “What’s Heaven?”. I said “It’s a place where everyone’s happy and everything’s perfect.” She said “Well you’re not in Heaven, Mummy, you’re in Gloucester”.
From The Guardian:
Call 999!
With the midwives stuck in traffic and his wife going into labour, Leo Hickman had to turn to the emergency services
I never thought it was worth writing a birth plan. Before I left for work in the morning, my wife, Jane, had said to me that “today could be the day” and that she just had a feeling when she had woken up. Jessie, our second child, had been born at hospital after a 45-minute labour, so we had been advised to have our third at home - it was likely that there would simply not be enough time to get Jane to hospital.
I wasn’t too alarmed by Jane’s prediction that morning. I arrived at the office with my mobile phone close to hand and fully charged, but was quickly distracted by the office. “Typical man,” some have since said. But I had been calmed by the midwives who had reassured us that they could be at our home in a few minutes if necessary.
The call finally came at just before 5pm. “Jane wants you to come home now. I think it might be starting,” said Jane’s mother, Margaret, who was staying with us to help look after Esme, our eldest, and Jessie during the birth. About 10 minutes earlier, Jane had woken from an afternoon nap. She thought as I only had an hour of work left it might be worth getting me home. By the time Margaret was off the phone, the contractions had started.
Thank God taxis can travel along bus lanes - I was home within 20 minutes. I unlocked the door to find a scene of mild panic. Esme and Jessie were in the sitting room watching a cartoon at full volume (to drown out the sound of their mother in labour); Margaret was shouting at me from the bathroom upstairs.
“The midwives are stuck in traffic. Call 999 now … “
17:28:12 999 call answered
Transcript of Leo’s 999 call
Operator: Emergency ambulance. What’s the problem? Tell me exactly what’s happened.
Leo: Hello, my wife is in labour and is having the baby at home, but she is really feeling the urge to push and the midwife, who is stuck in traffic trying to get here, said to call you if that’s the case.
Operator: OK, what’s the address you want the ambulance to come to, please?
Leo: Gives address.
Operator: And the postcode, please?
Leo: Gives postcode.
Operator: And the telephone number you’re calling from, please?
Leo: Gives telephone number.
Operator: And are you with her now?
Leo: Yes.
Operator: And how old is she, please?
Leo: She’s 34.
Operator: And is she conscious and breathing?
Leo: Yes, she is.
Operator: How many weeks and months pregnant is she?
Leo: She’s one week overdue tomorrow.
Operator: Is the baby completely out?
Leo: No. No, she is just having the urge to push and the midwives said to call you.
Operator: Can you see any part of the baby now?
Leo: Er, hang on. I’ll just check.
Operator: Thank you.
Leo: Pause. No.
Operator: Is she having contractions?
Leo: Yes.
Operator: Is this her first delivery?
Leo: No, her third.
Operator: How many minutes apart are the contractions?
Leo: After asking Jane: About a minute apart. The last labour was 45 minutes for her second child.
Operator: OK. Is there any serious bleeding?
Leo: After asking Jane: Er, no.
Operator: Have you had any high-risk complications with the birth?
Leo: No, we haven’t had any high-risk complications.
Operator: OK, I’m organising help for you now. Just stay on the line and I will tell you what to do next. Do not try to prevent the birth. Do not allow her to cross her legs or sit on the toilet.
Leo: OK.
Operator: Allow her to sit in the most comfortable position and have her take deep breaths between contractions.
Leo: OK.
Operator: Pause. Right, where is she now?
Leo: She’s in our bedroom.
Operator: Is she laying down?
Leo: She is laying against the bed with her knees on the floor.
Operator: Is that the most comfortable position for her?
Leo: Yes.
Operator: Has she got her clothes removed below her waist?
Leo: Yes, she’s totally got everything off. Sound of Jane experiencing a contraction in the background.
Operator: Have you got clean towels and blankets?
Leo: Yep.
Operator: Upon hearing the contraction: Does she want to push?
Leo: Yes, I think she does want to push.
Operator: Right, I want you to look at her vagina very closely to see how close the baby is to being born. Pause. OK, do you see any part of the baby now?
Leo: Yeah, I think I can see a head. Yes, I think the top of the head. I think.
Operator: OK, you think, yeah?
Leo: I can’t quite tell.
Operator: OK, what we need to do is …
Leo: Yeah, I can.
Operator: With each contraction, place the palm of your hand against the vagina and apply firm but gentle pressure to keep the baby’s head …
Leo: To keep it in?
Operator: No, you do not want to keep it in. Place the palm of the hand against the vagina and apply firm but gentle pressure to keep the baby’s head from delivering too fast and tearing.
Leo: OK.
Operator: Do you understand?
Leo: Yeah.
Operator: As the baby is delivered I need you to support the baby’s head and shoulders and hold the hips and legs firmly. Remember the baby will be slippery so try not to drop it.
Leo: OK.
Operator: OK, how is she doing now?
Leo: To Jane: You’re not having a contraction now, are you? To operator: No.
Operator: Stand by. Pause. Is there anyone else there with you?
Leo: We’ve got two kids downstairs who the grandma is looking after.
Operator: Could you ask one of them to open the front door?
Leo: OK, I’ll do that now.
Operator: Is it a house?
Leo: Yes, we’re on the first floor.
Operator: Pause. How’s she doing? Can you still see the head?
Leo: Pause. Er. It’s retreated a little bit now that the contractions are over. It’s closed up a bit more. OK, there’s another contraction happening now.
Operator: OK, remember what I said?
Jane: Screaming: Ohhh, I need to push! I NEED TO PUSH!!
Leo: She needs to push.
Operator: Have you got the palm of your hand against her vagina?
Leo: Yes. Jane moaning and screaming in background. If the head comes out, what do you want me to do?
Operator: If the head starts coming out, you’ve got to hold the head, OK? And stop it being delivered too fast. You want to deliver it, but not too fast, OK?
Leo: I can feel it. OK, the head’s coming!
Operator: The head’s coming? OK, right. As the baby is delivered, you’ve got to support the baby’s head and shoulders. Can you see the shoulders?
Leo: Hang on. Wait, wait, wait. Yeah, it’s coming, I think.
Operator: You need to support the baby’s head and shoulders and hold the hips and legs firmly.
Leo: Hang on. Long pause while Leo does an examination.
Operator: How are you doing?
Leo: OK, you know, I don’t think it is the head actually. (Leo is very scared now: instead of a smooth baby’s head, what he is looking at has become rippled and ridged in appearance and blotchy in colour. He realises that telling the operator he has doubts that it is a head will frighten Jane, but he knows he has to tell the operator everything.)
Leo: Something’s coming out, but I don’t know what it is. Jane moaning in background.
Operator: You don’t know what it is? Jane experiencing another contraction in background.
Leo: I think … I think it’s part of the sac.
Operator: Part of the sac?
Leo: … which hasn’t burst yet. Jane moaning in background.
Operator: OK, how far is it from coming out?
Leo: It’s got liquid in it.
Operator: Sorry?
Leo: It’s got liquid in it.
Operator: Liquid in it? Have you got a safety pin there?
Leo: It’s not the baby. Jane moaning and screaming in background.
Operator: Long pause. Right, if the sac hasn’t burst, you need to go and get a safety pin in case the baby is born in the sac.
Leo: I can’t hear you!
Operator: Right, you need to get a safety pin in case the baby is born in the sac.
Leo: Say that again.
Operator: Right, you need to get a safety pin in case the baby is born in the sac. You need to burst the sac. You need to do that now.
Leo: OK. To Jane: OK, wait there, Jane. Jane moaning and screaming in background. (Leo leaves the bedroom. He runs out on to the landing and freezes, trying desperately to think where he might find a safety pin. Did the girls have a badge he could use? But surely it would need to be sterilised? Would one of the barbecue skewers downstairs in the kitchen drawer be suitable? After 30 seconds of panic and incoherence, he returns to the bedroom to see that the waters had now started to break.)
Jane: There’s loads of meconium! Moans.
Leo: Re-enters room. You OK?
Operator: Is she OK?
Jane: There’s loads of meconium!!
Leo: There’s a lot of meconium. (Meconium - the baby’s first poo - can cause complications, especially in a home birth.)
Operator: There is? Pause. OK, you’re still going to need to support the baby. Is it the sac coming out? The baby must be in the sac.
Leo: Yep.
Operator: Is the head coming out?
Leo: OK, the head’s coming!!
Operator: OK, you need to support the baby’s head and shoulders.
Leo: OK.
Operator: Are the shoulders coming out?
Leo: Yep.
Operator: Right, you need to support the head and shoulders and hold the hips and legs, OK? It will be slippery so don’t drop him!
Leo: OK. Jane breathing heavily. Come on, little baby.
Operator: Is it in the sac?
Leo: No, I can see the head. I can see the face!! (The baby’s eyes and mouth are closed and there is no movement in his face at all. Leo had expected the baby to breathe as soon as the head was born, so is feeling frightened now.)
Operator: OK, that’s fantastic. Just keep supporting the baby, OK.
Leo: OK. Pause. Jane, you’re doing really well.
Operator: Tell her she’s doing fantastic, OK.
Leo: You’re doing really well, Jane. Pause. The shoulders are out.
Operator: OK, just keep supporting the head.
Leo: OK. Pause. There’s lots of waters breaking. Come on, little baby. Jane screaming and moaning. OK, one shoulder’s coming. (One arm is now out - in the panic, Leo has said “shoulder” by mistake.)
Operator: OK.
Leo: Come on, little baby. Jane screaming. OK, the baby’s out!!
Operator: Is the whole baby out?
Leo: It’s quite messy. There’s a lot of meconium.
Operator: Right, what I want you to do is wipe the baby clean. Pause. Right, is the baby crying or breathing?
Leo: It’s not fully out yet. (Perhaps it is the sight of the thick umbilical cord that makes Leo say this? The baby has in fact been born; he is covered in meconium, including all over his face. The clean towel referred to earlier is now dirty and of no use. Leo is on his knees holding the baby up off the floor, unable to put him down to run for a towel. Jane is unable to turn round to hold him because she can’t get her leg over the cord. Both parents are worried because the baby is not crying. He is only making very small body and facial movements. He looks very blue in colour.)
Operator: Tell me when the baby’s completely out.
Jane: Get Mum!
Leo: Shouting downstairs. Margaret! Pause. OK, the baby’s completely out!
Operator: Is the baby crying or breathing?
Leo: Yes, it’s crying. The baby is making small crying noises.
Operator: Right, what I want you to do is gently wipe off the baby’s mouth and nose. And dry the baby off with a clean towel. Then wrap the baby in a clean, dry towel, OK.
Leo: OK.
Operator: Just wipe the baby’s mouth and nose first. Yeah?
Leo: (There is still no towel.) Shouting downstairs: Margaret! Quick!
Jane: Lift him up! Baby crying in background.
Operator: Have you got a boy or a girl?
Leo: Shouting downstairs. I need a clean towel! Quick!
Operator: You need a couple, OK. One to dry the baby off with and one to wrap him up with. Is it a boy or a girl?
Leo: Laughing. Er, I don’t know yet. Pause. A little boy.
Operator: Congratulations.
Leo: Margaret enters room. Quick, quick. Baby crying.
Jane: Oh, my baby.
Leo: Any towel! Long pause as towels arrive and baby is cleaned and swaddled. Shall I give the baby to Mum?
Operator: Is he wrapped up in a towel?
Leo: Yes.
Operator: Don’t pull the cord too tight and put the baby in mother’s arms. Now make sure to keep the baby and the mother warm.
Leo: OK.
Operator: Did you wipe off the baby’s mouth and nose?
Leo: Yeah, I tried to. It’s quite messy though.
Operator: Oh, all right then. That’s fine.
Leo: There’s a lot of meconium.
Operator: OK. Pause. Right, the ambulance is really close to you now.
Jane: Is it OK?
Leo: Yes. Pause. Knocking heard downstairs. OK, I think the midwife or the ambulance is now here.
Operator: It must be the ambulance. I’ll have a look.
Leo: The mum’s got the baby now in her arms.
Operator: How’s she doing?
Leo: OK.
Operator: She’s doing OK?
Leo: I think so, yeah.
Operator: How’s the baby?
Leo: She’s a bit … He’s a bit quiet, but he’s making kind of gurgling noises.
Operator: He’s still breathing, yeah?
Leo: (Two midwives enter the room.) OK, the midwife is here now.
Operator: OK, do you want me to leave you with her? The ambulance is extremely close now. It’ll be with you soon. You’ve done a fantastic job. Congratulations. (Two ambulance crews enter - there are now six professionals doing checks on Jane and baby Jacob.) Thank you. Goodbye …
17:39:28 Recording ends.
The cavalry had arrived. They immediately examined the baby and Jane, expressing some concern about his blue/grey colour. But once they saw the umbilical cord pulsing they felt reassured that his colour would return, and in five minutes or so he was a more healthy-looking pink. Soon they weighed him and he came in at 3.6kg (8lb). About an hour and 20 minutes later, with the baby already having had his first feed, Jane gave birth to the placenta in the bathroom and the remaining ambulance crew was stood down by the midwives. Once back in the bedroom, Esme and Jessie came to meet their new baby brother.
It was only once Jane and Jacob were asleep, and the girls were in bed, that Margaret and I had our first stiff drink of the night. I never did discover the name of the operator - I still only know her as “CAC1821″ from the London Ambulance Service call centre at Ilford, Essex - but none the less we toasted her too.
Oh dear…I’m getting broody!
There are a lot of things I would be doing differently if other parents hadn’t shared their theories, experiences and reading with me. I am constantly asking myself whether, on mainstream discussion lists, I should continue this by offering my own experiences and learning with other parents. The downside of doing this is the risk of being flamed but the upside is that it may give confidence to another parent who is finding conflict between a more mainstream way to bring up children and his/her instincts. I really wouldn’t be where I am today on my parenting journey, doing things the way I am and the way that feels so right if people already doing things this way hadn’t shared it with me on mainstream discussion lists. It’s tempting to want to just ‘hide away’ among the groups of like-minded families I’ve found and made friends with - no criticism, just support…and the opportunity for a good rant . But what about supporting other parents who haven’t had the chance to know some of the things I’ve had the chance to know? When it comes to breastfeeding, my job is sharing information in a supportive way…it’s what people expect from me…they ask me for that information (if they know I’m a BFC). When a mother’s saying ‘my child hates school and cries every day and has started wetting himself’, if no one said ‘what about HE?’ she’d never have the opportunity to think about whether that would be an option for her and her son. If someone does say it, they invariably get at least one negative response from other ‘helpful’ parents. It doesn’t feel nice. So sometimes I take the plunge and respond…others I take the cowards option and hope they find out about alternative ways of doing things some other way!
Last night Mopsy and I got ready for bed and went upstairs ready to settle down to a breastfeed while she went to sleep. I was just getting my nightie on when I heard a huge bang and just knew that Mopsy had hit her head on the radiator. She’d flung herself back and had cracked her head really hard. She didn’t black out but screamed so loudly while I held her that I just knew she’d done more than just her usual bump. I yelled for DH about three times before he appeared. When he arrived I looked at the back of her head. There was blood although it wasn’t gushing out. Being on the back of the head, though, and being a nurse who knows that back-of-the-head injuries can be quite dangerous, and being a panicking, upset mum, we called 999 and an ambulance came within 5 minutes. Poor Flopsy was so worried and upset and didn’t want Mopsy to go to the hospital. We rang Mum and her and Dad came over to look after Flopsy and Cotton-tail so Dh could join me at the hospital later. Mopsy and I got a ride in the ambulance with me lying down and her on my tummy. She was subdued, and tired, and upset but ok otherwise. When we got to the hospital and I got to look at her wound properly I realised it wasn’t that terrible when I put my nurse hat on, but the minute I took it off and felt like her Mum again it looked like the most terrible thing ever! It’s the biggest injury any of them have ever had, and the most blood :-( It needed glueing so we did the right thing in going to A&E and, although the ambulance turned out to be not necessary, I wasn’t going to risk her suddenly deteriorating in the back of the car if I’d driven her myself! Mopsy was so brave. She said it didn’t hurt and let the nurse clean it without a squeak and with no pain killers. She only cried after it was glued and then it was mostly from relief of it all being over as she started the minute I said “so we can go now…and here’s Daddy come to get us”.
Needless to say, the radiator is now covered in pillows! When we got back, Flopsy had made Mopsy a card with a picture of Grandma (my Mum) on the front and a dictated message written by Mum: “Dear Mopsy, Please don’t do that never again please. And please fall in love with me when you grow up and when I grow up. Love from Flopsy xxx”.
She’s been fine today, not even particularly grumpy which I’d expected her to be being tired and probably with a headache. She bumped it once and it started to bleed a tiny bit but it didn’t open up, thank goodness! We can’t wash her hair for 5 days though, which, for someone with hair like Mopsy’s, is going to mean incredibly frizzy, messy hair. Never mind…I’d rather have her in one piece looking messy than otherwise with neat hair.
I’m sure I’m not the only parent who has noticed that there are a quite a few books written for children, the blurb for which say how children love them because they recognise the feelings and experiences themselves, that are actually cautionary tales for parents? Consider the evidence:
1. Not Now Bernard - For those who don’t know it: Bernard tries to gain his parents’ attention repeatedly, only to be told “not now, Bernard”. He tells them of the monster in the garden who intends to eat him. They respond with ‘not now, Bernard’. He goes into the garden and gets eaten by the monster. The monster goes into the house and roars at the mother and bites the father - “not now, Bernard”, they respond. They don’t notice that they’re talking to a monster, not even when he goes to bed saying sadly “but I’m a monster!”. The mother simply responds by turning off the light and saying “not now, Bernard!”.
Yes, children love it. But is it *really* meant for them? Isn’t really meant to tell parents to please be careful that they ignore their children? I know I certainly notice the story popping into my mind whenever I say “not now” to the girls and I stop myself and make myself give them my full attention (not just because they’re actually monsters who have eaten my children!)
2. Angry Arthur - Arthur has a meltdown after being told he can’t watch tv. His anger is so powerful that it tears his room; his house; his town; the world and the universe apart but while he’s sitting on his bed afterwards, he can’t remember why he got so angry.
Again, children love it. But surely it’s really telling parents what it’s like for a child having a meltdown? Surely it’s telling parents how frightening it is for a child to lose control of his anger and how, within seconds, the meltdown has lost its original meaning?
Does anyone know of any other childcare manuals carefully disguised as children’s books?
The HV wants to visit on Monday to see Cotton-tail for her 9m check. It would actually be the first time she’s seen one in her entire life. The note I got said ‘please ring to confirm’, which I haven’t done so we’ll see if she turns up! I kind of felt I didn’t want to stir up trouble by actively refusing to see her, but also didn’t want to be saying ‘yes, please do come and pass judgement on my mothering skills!’. The things I want to decide about before then are:
1. Whether or not to send Flopsy elsewhere: At the moment, we appear to be totally unknown to our LA. I’m very happy about that as our LA seem to be rather nosy and attempt to practice outside of their legal requirements. On the other hand, I don’t want to draw attention to ourselves as actively ‘hiding’ from them. If Flopsy’s there, I’m wondering if the HV will ask when she’s starting school. If I answer truthfully, will the HV be sympathetic or will she insist on letting the LA know about her. Does it matter if the LA know? I’m lucky in that our children are very bright and I certainly wouldn’t need to do anything to ‘prove’ they’re receiving an education. The walls of our house are covered in pictures and paintings by them - pretty advanced in some cases. Our house is full of obviously well-loved children’s books - fiction and reference. It’s very clear the computer is used by them and they’re both articulate, friendly girls. So it’s unlikely I’d have any trouble from them…we might even go some way to proving the worth of an autonomous lifestyle to a cynical HE inspector. On the other hand, if we did have a home visit and the inspector started trying to ‘test’ Flopsy, I know it could put her right off learning. But then it’s very easy to explain to Flopsy why things are happening so I’m sure she’d understand and try to ignore it. Or the HV may not even comment on Flopsy being at home; or she may do and may have no problem at all with it. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing. I just like to have plans, that’s all.
2. Whether or not to have Cotton-tail weighed and/or measured. With Flopsy and Mopsy I’ve had trouble with their size in one way or another. I got told off at Flopsy’s 9m check for not giving her enough solids because she didn’t weigh enough. The stupid HV didn’t even look at her, just at her weight chart! I came away feeling very much like a crap mother despite knowing what I knew about bfing and about my daughter’s health. Then they made a fuss about Mopsy’s 9m head circumference even though there was quite clearly an error when it was measured at 6w. It was small at birth; large at 6w; and small at 9m again. They wanted to measure it again a month later - I refused because of the upset I’d had with Flopsy and I just knew there was nothing wrong at all with Mopsy. So…do I invite trouble by having her weighed/measured even though there is no need to do so? She’s so advanced - walking with a trolley; standing alone for a few seconds; eating; growing; healthy; lovely - do I really need a HV to tell me she’s thriving? Or will refusing to have her weighed at all put a black mark against my name?
3. Whether or not to just go with whatever she wants and wax lyrical about bringing up children autonomously in an attempt to broaden her mind (assuming it’s narrow to begin with, of course!).
Oh well, she may not come at all and all this worrying will be for nothing! There are a few HVs in my area that I *wish* were mine, but they’re not. And I don’t know what my current one is like. I’ll keep you posted.
