A Nod to Nostalgia : In the Garden

Same garden, different toddler, twenty five years apart.

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Beach Baby

(May 2013 - Wembley Stadium & Barry Island; April 2012 - Kidwelly)

Just a brief reminder that yes, there was sunshine last week. I seem to have forgotten already. Elis placed his chubby toes into the sea for the first time. He ate raspberries, refused to part with his dummy and played with his new blue spade, which he hasn't put down since. He cuddles it. Like a teddy bear. (You remember how he takes wooden trains to bed, right?)

What didn't go down well were the events following; the eye drops that I had to squirt into his eyes four times a day to clear up conjunctivitis. I sat him down and opened up his prescription. Elis removed his dummy obligingly - be still my beating heart; no sweetheart, this isn't something tasty for you to guzzle down, now stare at me while I put this into both of your eyes.

Really?! There was only one way this was going to end. 

Hatred

.

.

.

.

(until the following meal time). 

I'm unconvinced whether any of the solution even went into his eyes. Cue thrashing child and a mother desperately squeezing the bottle from above and hoping for the best. I think perhaps the whole idea of eye drops is a ploy and that it is actually the excessive salty tears which clear out those ducts. Ponder this.

*

On a completely different note, everyone should make themselves aware of the fact that I have actually finished an item of crafting. Ok, so it was just a little flower - but you are clearly underestimating my strong and consistent ability to give up on yarn-based activities. Elis has a whole range of half knitted cardigans. The front-left side of the latest was really beautiful. It's a shame the same can't be said for the non-existent right. Knitting frustrates me. I still wince when I think of the moments spent trying to regather the copious number of dropped stitches, ending up in one big, unstructured tangle - definitely not part of the pattern. I used to do what any sensible person would do - take it to my mother to fix it.

*

By the way, I'm supposed to be studying. Somebody tell me to go and study. (Now we'll find out whether my Mum really reads this).

A Child's Imagination

I love Tintern.

Signs warning of badgers, tack shops with their rich scent of leather and antique book shops with out-of-print Enid Blyton adorning the window; I think I have fallen into my little piece of heaven, adjacent to the quietly meandering River Wye.

We visited the Old Station. We pulled up and gazed at the carriages; I am certain that I belong in a time filled with steam trains, ink wells and flowing skirts. I wonder into which decade Elis will feel he fits best.

A play area under the tree canopy, he recognises a swing set from twenty yards away now. Higher and higher and higher. We amble on and turn back along the river bank, say good morning to a blackcap and then venture further to greet the sheep. 

We are wizards in the forest and then sailors on the open seas. We look up at the steep hillside filled with trees to make sure we are not under attack by pirates. Mole hills are the swells in the ocean and a stick is his paddle. You are never too young or too old for such games - silently he watches and listens, but one day he will turn to me and inform me that it is his turn to steer the boat - and I will smile.

The stick accompanied us back to the car, and up numerous steps. This is bad terrain for buggy or boat and I winced like a girl as I stopped halfway, the realisation that Elis and his worldly goods are heavy and any retreat back down the steps would have been near enough impossible.

We made it, stick and all.

Now here we sit with full bellies, playing with blocks, building pyramids and mountains, or perhaps the Great Wall of China. Because we can. Because we are strong of mind and heart, and filled with imagination.

"The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination." - Albert Einstein

Raison D'être

This weekend was filled with Wembley adventures; although to be precise we spent more time in the car than we did at Wembley. You were so relaxed and chilled it was a far cry from tonight,  I don't know what is in those eyedrops, but tonight's bedtime is brought to you by the letter... E (numbers). Did I confuse blueberries with gobstoppers?

You, the boy who hates having his face washed has unearthed some wipes (from where?!) and started cleaning both your face and mine. And with the third wipe... you are blowing your nose. With the seventy sixth, yes, that knee definitely needed a clean. Is it normal to sit and stare at your child in utter confusion so often as I do? 

But yes, Wembley...

***

Elis, you were so well behaved. You didn't cry. Not even when the interesting (yes, interesting) lady swooped down and grabbed you off my lap when we scored. You are the baby that was raised up like Simba when Mr Jolley put us 1-0 up, the baby that bobbed along to the chanting crowds, the baby that clapped when we won, but found the celebrations with the trophy too tiresome to stay awake for. You are the baby that sat amongst family and saw your club (yes, I have gifted them to you, be grateful it is now) get back into the Football League, history in the making Elis.

Your Simba moment, your first experience of crowd surfing, etched on my memory. I know she lent you a cuddly toy for the first quarter of an hour of the game - but I did not realise this was a down payment. Visions of you crowd surfing your way around the stadium flashed before my eyes....

Give me my baby back!

Ok, that may have been said in my head. My face probably indicated something similar though.

***

You provided car park entertainment as Grandpa taught you the finer points of driving.

This is how you hold the steering wheel; there are the hazard lights; yes, that is Shania Twain that you have now decided to play rather loudly; that lever does make water fly from the front of the car and soak innocent chatting bystanders.

However, the wiggling of the bum while moving the steering wheel - that is all you!

Oh and the incessant dinging noise which appeared every time we surpassed the 20 mph limit on the way home. That was all you too. Let it never be said that you are lax when it comes to safety.

***

There were multiple food based stops en route; we dined on the many delicacies of supermarket cuisine. Chicken, apricots, raisins, yoghurt, Pomm Bears. Yum. Such delights they were, that you decided to share them with us once again on the way home... #carsick.

***

Wembley day was also the day where I realised that you can now escape me. If I place you somewhere, it no longer means that is where you shall remain - as I see you ambling off through my camera lens.

Ah. Yes. You have legs. I forgot. COME BACK!

***

The actual game - very tense. The last ten minutes however, were out of this world. An eighty sixth minute goal. Four minutes of added time. Possibly the longest eight minutes in history?

Newport County are back in the football league, and you witnessed it Elis. Twenty five years coming, although your wait was a little briefer. I was coming up to my second birthday when we fell out of the league in 1988 and here you are just a few months behind me watching as the wrongs are righted. The club has achieved its raison d'être; it is a league club once more.

It's in your blood Elis George. It's as simple as that.

Pikmin-tastic.

Back to blogging from the phone - or it will never happen. Am currently sat in bed. Yesterday I thought I would be cunning and bring that old fashioned pen and paper ensemble; it doesn't sit within the technology category that Elis is so overtly interested in lately and therefore my toddler should not be interested.

Oh, but he was.

He grabbed first pen and then paper. He looked at what I had written with disdain and then, in a manner which gave me a rather startling throw-back to GCSE English, he shook his head and scribbled. Everywhere. He then handed both items back. This process continued a number of times until he became so frustrated that he handed me his Spot book instead.

"Writing just isn't for you Mama. I think you should stick with lifting the flaps. Let me know if you need help."

I could see it in his eyes.

***

We had a lovely weekend in Southampton. There was sunshine interspersed with ICE RAIN. Too hard for snow, too soft for hail. Sleet? Perhaps. ICE RAIN? Definitely! Elis ambled about my brother's flat, guzzled raisins, investigated all technology within your grasp and watched Doctor Who.

There are two important points here. Firstly, raisins. They are now my emergency staple. They are a miracle cure for tantrums big and small. A noisy, scrunchy bag filled with tiny edible items which fit delightfully well into chubby toddler hands! What is not to like? If you want raisins, I will have them about my person - and probably everywhere else besides. I was unable to fasten the car seat buckle only to find two raisins jammed into the lock. I am trying to embrace it in the same way as one might an Easter egg hunt. Yes, that is what I am doing.

And "within your grasp". Things are becoming increasingly so. Mostly when I am not looking. Chubby handprints on a television screen far above a toddlers grasp - piece that together with the footprints on the adjacent table and an interesting picture starts to form. The dog's favourite resting place on Grandma and Grandpa's window sill has also taken your liking. More handprint evidence - those grubby mits will give you away every time champ!

Southampton has a common. A very large common. Your Uncle and I walked all around it while you whinged from within your comfortable pushchair with accompanying rain cover Elis - (I've mentioned the ice rain right?). The clouds parted and we played on the swings. There is something very liberating and reckless about swinging really high. It also reminded me why children have either very scuffed shoes or copious injuries. Stopping a swing is hard work!

We ventured into the town and braved a shopping centre on a Saturday. Quite possibly madness, but I had a hankering for doughnuts. Yes, Elis, I shared with you. You had your first taste of glorious deep fried dough. You let far too much miss your mouth though! Doughnuts are a precious commodity. I had to do all I could to resist the urge to snatch it back off you; far too casual Elis. 

There was much relaxing, much computer game playing, much eating. My childhood skills at Mario have not waned. However they have been replaced by newfound Pikmin skills. No, really. I am brilliant at being a little Pikmin (?) and thwacking enemies with a leaf which I keep on, or perhaps it grows out of, my head. Elis, you ambled around with your own Wii remote believing that it was you controlling these poor little creatures. The sad thing is that if I replaced the batteries in your little remote, I'm sure your skills would surpass mine. Your technology addiction managed to lock me out of my phone for an entire hour on the weekend. Thank you Elis.

 

Minor bouts of cleaning took place. I'm not sure what came over me. Perhaps I suddenly felt the need to repay the years of big sister bullying that I carried out as a child. 

The weekend finished with a road trip back to Newport with fewer mistakes made than on the way there. We don't need to dwell on that though - we were heading south, that was all that mattered. The clue was in the name.  ((Southampton)). A play-off semi against Grimsby capped off our weekend , sealing another exciting trip to Wembley.

Elis George, you are two weeks shy of 19 months old. You are very much enjoying music lately and when up-beat songs come on you clap your hands in a very 'warming up the crowd' manner. On Sunday you shall visit Wembley for the second time in 12 months; this clapping phase will be very welcome there. You have yet to see a month of May without a trip to Wembley to watch Newport County play. Long may this continue little boy.

***

And on one final note - everyone should go to Greenmeadow Farm because of the happy-making tweet that they posted. And because it has lambs and goats. No really, look how many toddler giggles there are because of the cute little things. And don't worry - we washed our hands afterwards.

Guest Post: Your Baby and Car Journeys

I am a member of the Sainsbury's Bank Family Blogger Network and have agreed to host this particular guest post about travelling with your little ones - a rather apt guest post given the journey I shall set off on this weekend. A trip in the car with my little boy all the way to Southampton to visit my brother. Southampton has never seemed so far away! I'd better take notes.....
 
Your Baby and Car Journeys

From scheduling stops to sunshades, car journeys can prove something of a dilemma for parents. But you don't have to stay put, particularly as the British weather is finally starting to warm up. So how can you hit the road, avoid packing the kitchen sink and ensure your new arrival remains happy and content?

The key is to plan and prepare your trip as much as possible. From where you’re stopping to the quickest possible route, there are plenty of ways to keep you and your baby happy on car trips. And once you get into the swing of things, travelling with your baby should become easier and more stress-free.

Feeding time

One of the most stressful aspects of travelling with children can be feeding. So, it’s worth being organised, determining the 'how, when and where' of each feeding well in advance. And when it comes to the how, breastfeeding is the easiest solution. If you’re driving and breast-feeding, then schedule in stops and work this into your journey time. Don’t leave these feeding stops to chance: research potential stopping places and map them out ahead of time.

Advanced preparation can also help those parents who are formula feeding. Sterilising bottles on a road journey may seem like a hassle, but pre-sterilised bottle liners can help make this easier.

Before you set off, measure out the amount of formula powder into small sterilised containers and then all you have to do is add the water to each one when needed. You can keep the water warm in an insulated flask. Alternatively, if you’re short on time, then there is the option to buy ready-made cartons of formula. Straight-forward and simple - just tear open and empty into a sterilised bottle or beaker.

Is your child on solids? If so, then be sure to pack food in a cool box, as well as any utensils you might need. Whether it’s homemade or shop bought, small jars, pots and sachets are best for the car, just be sure all lids are on securely to avoid any extra spillage.

 

And then there’s that other helpful spillage tool: bibs. As any parent will testify, it’s always worth having a few to hand to help mop up. But when it comes to food, no matter how demanding your child is being, to avoid choking, finger food should only be given when an adult is sitting beside them. Alternatively, stop at a park or service station for a picnic, rather than feeding them en route.

Preparing the car

For travelling, a car seat is an obvious must-have. However, it's important to make sure the one you use is the right model for your child’s age and weight. You’ll find all the information you need on the exact car seat for your child's age and weight and how to fit it at childcarseats.org.uk.

 

Additionally, removable window shades can help protect your child from the sun and stop them from becoming too hot. Don’t forget to carry a first aid kit in the car too, just in case.

If you are setting out on a long car journey, then be prepared for any unforeseen problems with adequate breakdown and car insurance cover.

Relax and Enjoy

Some parents like to avoid disrupting their baby, opting to travel at night instead. However, if you’re travelling during the day, remember to take time out to give you and your baby some fresh air. For toddlers, the chance to get out of the car seat to play or run around will help burn off some energy.

 

Undoubtedly there will be pressure points when travelling with children and babies. But thanks to some good old fashioned organisation, any potential bumps on the journey can be easily ironed out, leaving you plenty of time to concentrate on driving and enjoying the ride.


This was written on behalf of the Sainsbury’s Bank Blog. All informations were correct when first published. Please note that any opinions wthin this guest post are those of the author and not Sainsbury’s Bank. Although it contains information, this should not be considered advice nor used for making financial decisions. Sainsbury’s Bank does not accept responsibility for any views expressed nor for the content of any external links within.

{I have not been paid to publish this post on my blog. I was offered this post as part of my membership of the Sainsbury's Finance Family Blogger Network. I am not obligated to publish this post, but have chosen to do so. Photographs used within the guest post are my own.}

Park Life

So the weekend culminated in Sunday dinner followed by a walk with Grandma, dog, baby and I. Quite a fitting tribute to a Sunday. Rain threatened, so we thought the park a sensible first stop.

 

Elis swung, and swung a little more. He then convinced Grandma that she should swing too. I remained poised with my camera. looking moderately suspicious, and tried to convince the dog that he needed to sniff a few more tree stumps and not pull me off on in obscure directions just yet. A brief liaison with the slide and the dog had his way; we were off on our suburban adventures.

We dodged rogue off-the-lead canines, said hello to some chickens and hopped over cracks in the pavement. Elis got bored of this walking malarky relatively quickly; I would have had more sympathy for his plight if he had been doing any of the walking. 

Weighing up the pros and cons of piercing screams vs awkward bulky carrying weight, we decided to remove him from his pushchair. The heavens opened and we headed for home - one smug, very sleepy and now damp, baby in hand. 

Elis, you're heavy. Or more to the point Elis, I am weak and unfit and would pay good money to be pushed around in a comfortable chair with accompanying rain cover and a basket containing food-related goodies below. Learn fast before these luxuries are a distant memory my son!

I love Sundays.