This is the last blog post I was writing before Daniel made his early appearance. I'd been to the NEC the day before to the big craft fair they do. It seemed to be "be rude to a pregnant lady day" so I was feeling a little cross. I found it rather amusing that when there's a shortage of seating, everyone pretends they can't see you when you're heavily pregnant.
I'd just like to give out a few tips and pointers for what is and isn't really acceptable behaviour around the pregnant ladies of the world as sometimes there seems to be a lot of people who... well, to be brutally honest either have no clue at all or actually seem to be going out of their way to be difficult on purpose.
1) Don't drive mobility scooters into us. Seriously, this is very important and I had a bit of a close call yesterday. Don't have the full speed turned up while you're inside and please don't drive straight at someone who happens to be dressed in a bright red and white stripy top and is the same approximate shape as a weeble. I am not a target to hit, you do not get ten points for knocking me down and it's not my fault you don't know how to drive.
2) Don't slam your chair back into mine in a restaurant. I'm sitting as close to the table as I can possibly get, which I admit isn't as close as usual - but then there is a bump in the way. What's your excuse?
3) It's my bump, hands off. Thankfully I have managed to avoid any unwanted bump contact, but plenty of other women I know have not been so lucky. Why is it ok to randomly grope a stranger? It's not, so just don't do it.
4) Yes it takes me longer to walk places, I just can't go that fast. Don't push me.
5) My hormones are all up the spout and I can't help it. I'm pregant, making the next generation who'll pay taxes to cover our pensions when we're old. I don't expect to be always treated with kid gloves, just give me a break sometimes.
Friday, 3 October 2014
Things I've Learned from Childrens Television
1, You can successfully bandage a fish - Octonauts
2, Goats really don't like Jazz - Shaun the Sheep
3, There's always a good excuse for casual violence - The Sooty Show
4, Don't get on the wrong side of the Fat Controller or he'll brick you up in a tunnel - Thomas the Tank Engine (the old version)
5, If you're trying to do well at school, don't make friends with a badger - Timmy Time
6, I don't know what it is Mr Maker is taking, but I'd like to try it
7, Pigs have both eyes on the same side of their face - Peppa Pig (can't watch it, the neo-cubism gives me a headache)
8, Cement looks like pink blancmange - Bob the Builder
9, The BBC is making some real budget cuts in childrens televison and in some areas it's really starting to show - Sarah and Duck
10, You can live successfully on nothing but porrdige and smelly lake-water - Abney and Teal.
Almost anything is better than Abney and Teal. I've sat through episode and episode of Tree-Fu Tom, a truly bad cartoon, safe in the knowledge that at least it's not Abney and Teal. What's with the accordian playing dog? And Toby-Dog played some "bugging the wits out of your Mum music".And guess what? It sounds exactly like his "it's a rainy day" music or his "Teal's caught dysentry from the lake" music.
I may have made the last one up.
2, Goats really don't like Jazz - Shaun the Sheep
3, There's always a good excuse for casual violence - The Sooty Show
4, Don't get on the wrong side of the Fat Controller or he'll brick you up in a tunnel - Thomas the Tank Engine (the old version)
5, If you're trying to do well at school, don't make friends with a badger - Timmy Time
6, I don't know what it is Mr Maker is taking, but I'd like to try it
7, Pigs have both eyes on the same side of their face - Peppa Pig (can't watch it, the neo-cubism gives me a headache)
8, Cement looks like pink blancmange - Bob the Builder
9, The BBC is making some real budget cuts in childrens televison and in some areas it's really starting to show - Sarah and Duck
10, You can live successfully on nothing but porrdige and smelly lake-water - Abney and Teal.
Almost anything is better than Abney and Teal. I've sat through episode and episode of Tree-Fu Tom, a truly bad cartoon, safe in the knowledge that at least it's not Abney and Teal. What's with the accordian playing dog? And Toby-Dog played some "bugging the wits out of your Mum music".And guess what? It sounds exactly like his "it's a rainy day" music or his "Teal's caught dysentry from the lake" music.
I may have made the last one up.
Sleep - I need it, he wont have it
Well it's been a long time, hasn't it?
Daniel, my new lovely little bub is six months old and getting bigger every day. The problem is that whenever I try and sit down to do anything that doesn't get classed as "urgent" Daniel wants my attention. Actually, he wants my attention pretty much all the time, but I can justify putting him down to cook dinner or do laundry, but not to read a book or write a blog.
As if on cue, as soon as I start typing he wakes up and yells. You know, I ordered a book for my kindle months ago. I've read the first three pages about four times now, but never got any further as the one thing he really can't stand is me sitting and reading.
Joseph used to nap like a pro. I got him onto a pretty good routine and I was always guaranteed a morning nap of about an hour and an afternoon nap of about two hours until he was past one. Even then he napped in the afternoon till nearly three. Sometimes he still does, but I can't force him into it.
Daniel is not like Joseph. He was born nearly a month early which meant a week-long stay in hospital as we recovered from the stress of it all - and massive infections. He was exclusively breast-fed till nearly six months whereas with Joseph I lasted less than six weeks. Daniel hated formula, Joseph greeted the sight of a bottle with great gusto. Now Daniel is weaning I have persuaded him to take a couple of bottles in the day, but it's taken some convincing.
Oh Daniel, what is it? Why is it whenever I sit down to do something that is even remotely close to something classed as "me" time you always dissolve into a mess of whingy tears? I haven't put makeup on since your birth, you never give me the time. Joseph always used to, but he was quite a sanguine baby who would not yell just becasue he'd been put on his play mat for a few minutes.
Daniel wears his little heart very much on his sleeve. Joseph had several sorts of cry, I could tell if he was upset or tired very easily. His routine meant he was rarely screaming hungry. Daniel was demand fet up until now and that means more screaming, but he only does one volume - loud. He howls just the same when he's tired so it's just so hard to tell what's what with him. Right now I think he's hungry so I'd better pour some milk over a rusk and sort him out. I'm pretty sure he's tired too, but that's another story.
He's eaten, and got a lot of it down himself, but that's just how it goes. A breastfed baby has a tounge reflex that they find hard to stop, which means spitting out half their food when it comes to weaning time. Joseph being bottle fed lost the tongue reflex early so weaned easily and tidily.
Daniel had a breastfeed right after and started to look quite drowsy, so I have taken him upstairs to sleep. Ha ha! How naive am I? Do you know, Gina Ford reccomends that you do not let your baby fall asleep while feeding them. Her advice is ridiculed by many, but they never stop to think that she might have a point. I let Daniel fall asleep at the end of a feed a lot and soon ended up with a baby who would only sleep after a feed. He would also only sleep lightly, so transferring him from arms to moses basket was risky and usually ended up with him waking up. As he had got used to sleeping after a feed he would not settle himself in his basket and would just plain scream. Scream and scream and scream....
Joseph had a tired cry. Sometimes I would put him down to sleep and he'd cry his tired cry and within a few minutes he'd go quiet and be asleep. I have learned that this does not work with Daniel. If I put him down to sleep and he cries then all that happens is that he gets louder and louder and louder.
So the choices are - let him sleep in my arms or risk putting him down, which is 50-50 at best. Either way, half an hour is usually the best he'll do. Fifteen minutes is more likely and that means he just cat-naps, long enough to take the edge off so he wont go back to sleep but not long enough to sort out his tiredness so I have a grumpy baby on my hands all day long. If I ley him sleep in my arms then my poor circulation ensures that my arm goes numb in a few minutes and I have the hell of pins and needles in a short space of time.
I've looked around. The advice is - put him down awake but drowsy and let him get used to it. I've tried it, he just cries. He wouldn't go long enough between breastfeeds to cope with the routine I had Joseph on and even when I can get him asleep in his basket he doesn't sleep for long enough.
Speaking of which.....
At least now at six months he's relented and is taking a bottle and now will take a dummy. Six months of no dummy and no pacification! Now my new technique is take him up asleep and shove the dummy in when he inevitably wakes upon arrival in his basket. If I'm quick enough, he'll settle himself off quickly. If I don't take him up asleep he needs to be a bit drowsy after a meal and a breastfeed. I shove a dummy in and walk away. He sucks like mad and then cries. After a couple of minutes I go back in, shove the dummy in and walk away again. Rinse and repeat.... it can take a while, but he does nap in the end. Sometimes. Well... occasionally.
Doesn't seem to be working today. Got to go....
Daniel, my new lovely little bub is six months old and getting bigger every day. The problem is that whenever I try and sit down to do anything that doesn't get classed as "urgent" Daniel wants my attention. Actually, he wants my attention pretty much all the time, but I can justify putting him down to cook dinner or do laundry, but not to read a book or write a blog.
As if on cue, as soon as I start typing he wakes up and yells. You know, I ordered a book for my kindle months ago. I've read the first three pages about four times now, but never got any further as the one thing he really can't stand is me sitting and reading.
Joseph used to nap like a pro. I got him onto a pretty good routine and I was always guaranteed a morning nap of about an hour and an afternoon nap of about two hours until he was past one. Even then he napped in the afternoon till nearly three. Sometimes he still does, but I can't force him into it.
Daniel is not like Joseph. He was born nearly a month early which meant a week-long stay in hospital as we recovered from the stress of it all - and massive infections. He was exclusively breast-fed till nearly six months whereas with Joseph I lasted less than six weeks. Daniel hated formula, Joseph greeted the sight of a bottle with great gusto. Now Daniel is weaning I have persuaded him to take a couple of bottles in the day, but it's taken some convincing.
Oh Daniel, what is it? Why is it whenever I sit down to do something that is even remotely close to something classed as "me" time you always dissolve into a mess of whingy tears? I haven't put makeup on since your birth, you never give me the time. Joseph always used to, but he was quite a sanguine baby who would not yell just becasue he'd been put on his play mat for a few minutes.
Daniel wears his little heart very much on his sleeve. Joseph had several sorts of cry, I could tell if he was upset or tired very easily. His routine meant he was rarely screaming hungry. Daniel was demand fet up until now and that means more screaming, but he only does one volume - loud. He howls just the same when he's tired so it's just so hard to tell what's what with him. Right now I think he's hungry so I'd better pour some milk over a rusk and sort him out. I'm pretty sure he's tired too, but that's another story.
He's eaten, and got a lot of it down himself, but that's just how it goes. A breastfed baby has a tounge reflex that they find hard to stop, which means spitting out half their food when it comes to weaning time. Joseph being bottle fed lost the tongue reflex early so weaned easily and tidily.
Daniel had a breastfeed right after and started to look quite drowsy, so I have taken him upstairs to sleep. Ha ha! How naive am I? Do you know, Gina Ford reccomends that you do not let your baby fall asleep while feeding them. Her advice is ridiculed by many, but they never stop to think that she might have a point. I let Daniel fall asleep at the end of a feed a lot and soon ended up with a baby who would only sleep after a feed. He would also only sleep lightly, so transferring him from arms to moses basket was risky and usually ended up with him waking up. As he had got used to sleeping after a feed he would not settle himself in his basket and would just plain scream. Scream and scream and scream....
Joseph had a tired cry. Sometimes I would put him down to sleep and he'd cry his tired cry and within a few minutes he'd go quiet and be asleep. I have learned that this does not work with Daniel. If I put him down to sleep and he cries then all that happens is that he gets louder and louder and louder.
So the choices are - let him sleep in my arms or risk putting him down, which is 50-50 at best. Either way, half an hour is usually the best he'll do. Fifteen minutes is more likely and that means he just cat-naps, long enough to take the edge off so he wont go back to sleep but not long enough to sort out his tiredness so I have a grumpy baby on my hands all day long. If I ley him sleep in my arms then my poor circulation ensures that my arm goes numb in a few minutes and I have the hell of pins and needles in a short space of time.
I've looked around. The advice is - put him down awake but drowsy and let him get used to it. I've tried it, he just cries. He wouldn't go long enough between breastfeeds to cope with the routine I had Joseph on and even when I can get him asleep in his basket he doesn't sleep for long enough.
Speaking of which.....
At least now at six months he's relented and is taking a bottle and now will take a dummy. Six months of no dummy and no pacification! Now my new technique is take him up asleep and shove the dummy in when he inevitably wakes upon arrival in his basket. If I'm quick enough, he'll settle himself off quickly. If I don't take him up asleep he needs to be a bit drowsy after a meal and a breastfeed. I shove a dummy in and walk away. He sucks like mad and then cries. After a couple of minutes I go back in, shove the dummy in and walk away again. Rinse and repeat.... it can take a while, but he does nap in the end. Sometimes. Well... occasionally.
Doesn't seem to be working today. Got to go....
Saturday, 1 March 2014
On the Phone
Joseph likes the telephone. When we go to playgroup he loves playing with the old fashioned (I say "old fashioned" but they're the push button binatone phones I grew up with) telephones that are sometimes got out. It's a good job they're not connected to anything as an awful lot of people would get random calls along the lines of "Hello... It's Joseph. I'm playing. Yes, yes, uh-huh bye bye." because, according to him, that's what you say on the phone.
If I have to make a telephone call I try and do it when he's out of the way as he sits and yells "I want to talk! I want to listen!" over and over again and that makes it hard for me to talk and listen.
My mobile phone contract expired recently. Somebody, apparently from Carphone Warehouse, phoned up to negotiate a new contract. Now, if I'd only been able to concentrate on what the man was saying I'm sure all the problems would have been avoided as I probably would have realised that he wasn't from the above mentioned retailer but from one of their "subsidiaries". Beware of subsidiaries, all they do is rip you off.
Did I want a smartphone? No because I'm a cheapskate who doesn't want to pay over the odds for a phone with a load of features I'll never use and a contract with a load off stuff I will also never use.
This rather threw him.
Did I want a new handset anyway?
Not if I don't have to. I quite like the one I've got, although it is a little old and the battery life isn't quite what it was. Sometimes I have to charge it up after only seven days! (Another reason I'm still a little bit anti-smartphone).
I had to have a new handset. Ok then, as long as it's decent. Do I get a choice?
No.
All of this was conducted to the background of a TV programme that Joseph wasn't really watching but wouldn't let me pause and a toddler screaming "I WANT TO LISTEN!!!" at the top of his voice over and over and over.
I ascertained that there was a cooling-off period and concluded the call.
The phone arrived a few days later. My suspicions were instantly aroused by the fact that I had been told the phone would be silver, indeed the paperwork said the same, but it was in fact black. Hold up, if they can't even send one the correct colour, what else is wrong?
A screen the size of a postage stamp, that's what and no built in camera. It had the look of something from about fourteen years ago. What, I wondered, were they trying to pull?
I called up the wretched subsidiary and complained a bit and got a postal address to send it back to. Can't I take it to the Carphone warehouse shop that's about a ten minute walk away? No, we're a subsidiary.
Back it went anyway, having had to pay a significant sum in postage as Royal Mail will only carry phones on recorded delivery. Probably a good job though, as I do have a very accurate record of when I posted the darned thing. Joseph spent the whole time in the post office staring up at the very old fashioned built in fan and saying "Look Mummy, a fan!" and generally managing to stand in everyones way.
I then discovered I could get a much cheaper sim-only deal though my internet provider and politely told my mobile phone company that they were no longer wanted, no I didn't want to see if they could do a price match as I already had my new sim good to go and could I have my PAC please to transfer my number?
Call made during a short and sleepless toddler nap time, so whilst I had to listen to a small boy telling his toys off from the comfort of the bed, I could at least talk on the phone without the aural onslaught.
A little while later, having transferred my number and happily using my new sim in my very very old phone I realised that an email had appeared from my old provider. Something about a bill. A bill? I paid the last bill, why are they asking for more.
It read: -
Here is your latest bill for £211. Your money will be collected by direct debit. A little more than expected? Please click here.
It's a good job I had put my cup of tea down to check my email. If I'd been sipping it at the time then I dread to think what would have happened. We'd probably have had to replace the computer keyboard again at least.
Why was my bill so big? No I had not been phoning up Uruguay or Burkina Fasso. It was an "Early termination charge".
You WHAT? I was told I had a 14 day cooling off period and that wretched piece of pathetic technology they had tried to palm me off with had been in my possession for less than 24 hours. I'd never even bothered to charge it up.
I called the company, rather annoyed that now I wasn't a customer any more I'd get charged for the privilege. Eventually after listening to annoying hold music someone spoke to me and did indeed confirm that I'd returned the stupid phone within the time and the charge was unfair. I asked why I'd been given it in the first place.
It's because they'd sent me a bill for the new contract.
Yes, they'd tried to charge me for a months use of a phone that had been out of it's box for less than an hour. I'd never used the phone so I'd never activated the new sim it came with and therefore had not had any use of the new contract but the money grubbing little swine had charged me for it anyway, activating the contract and making me eligible for an early termination charge. I was told this was not a problem, the nice lady needed to get some forms to fill in so she'd ring me back before the end of the day to sort it all out.
She was lying, she never phoned back.
I phoned the following day, well aware that my ire had reached the point that I was close to chewing chunks out of the furniture. No problem, I was again told. No, I didn't need to fill in any forms. The charge could be cancelled then and there and I'd be able to see it credited back to my phone account in three working days. No, they hadn't taken the money already (previous lady said they had), it was due in just over a week so as a precaution I should cancel the direct debit.
We did, but it took some finding as they're a bit sneaky and hide the payment under a less than obvious name.
Four days later I checked my phone account online and noticed the charge was still there listed as outstanding and payment due. Joseph was up from his nap and I didn't fancy dealing with them and an unruly toddler so I postponed my annoyance till the following day and spent quite some time on hold again.
I got through and was told that the charge was indeed cancelled. No, I told them, it's not. Are you sure you're looking at the right account on your end because it's still very much there on mine.
It will look like that, I was told as the cancellation of the charge wont show up until the bill is due.
Why? I asked. Sounds a bit daft to me.
It's just how the computer system works.
Ok, I replied, but please be aware that I have now been told three differing things by three different people and I'm not sure who to believe any more. Either way, my direct debit cancelled and your company is not going to squeeze another penny from me however stupid their computer system might be.
Very sensible, she told me. By the tone of her voice I guessed she'd had far too many calls from grumpy customers dealing with bill errors due to their error ridden system. I felt sorry for her, thanked her for her time and hung up.
I'll let you all know the final upshot of all of this, but it probably wouldn't have come to this if I'd only been able to hear properly on the original phone call. Thanks Joseph, you little cheeky pain.
Would it be wrong of me to mention that the mobile network in question who have given me all the trouble are 02?
Probably.
Ooops.
Oh well.
If I have to make a telephone call I try and do it when he's out of the way as he sits and yells "I want to talk! I want to listen!" over and over again and that makes it hard for me to talk and listen.
My mobile phone contract expired recently. Somebody, apparently from Carphone Warehouse, phoned up to negotiate a new contract. Now, if I'd only been able to concentrate on what the man was saying I'm sure all the problems would have been avoided as I probably would have realised that he wasn't from the above mentioned retailer but from one of their "subsidiaries". Beware of subsidiaries, all they do is rip you off.
Did I want a smartphone? No because I'm a cheapskate who doesn't want to pay over the odds for a phone with a load of features I'll never use and a contract with a load off stuff I will also never use.
This rather threw him.
Did I want a new handset anyway?
Not if I don't have to. I quite like the one I've got, although it is a little old and the battery life isn't quite what it was. Sometimes I have to charge it up after only seven days! (Another reason I'm still a little bit anti-smartphone).
I had to have a new handset. Ok then, as long as it's decent. Do I get a choice?
No.
All of this was conducted to the background of a TV programme that Joseph wasn't really watching but wouldn't let me pause and a toddler screaming "I WANT TO LISTEN!!!" at the top of his voice over and over and over.
I ascertained that there was a cooling-off period and concluded the call.
The phone arrived a few days later. My suspicions were instantly aroused by the fact that I had been told the phone would be silver, indeed the paperwork said the same, but it was in fact black. Hold up, if they can't even send one the correct colour, what else is wrong?
A screen the size of a postage stamp, that's what and no built in camera. It had the look of something from about fourteen years ago. What, I wondered, were they trying to pull?
I called up the wretched subsidiary and complained a bit and got a postal address to send it back to. Can't I take it to the Carphone warehouse shop that's about a ten minute walk away? No, we're a subsidiary.
Back it went anyway, having had to pay a significant sum in postage as Royal Mail will only carry phones on recorded delivery. Probably a good job though, as I do have a very accurate record of when I posted the darned thing. Joseph spent the whole time in the post office staring up at the very old fashioned built in fan and saying "Look Mummy, a fan!" and generally managing to stand in everyones way.
I then discovered I could get a much cheaper sim-only deal though my internet provider and politely told my mobile phone company that they were no longer wanted, no I didn't want to see if they could do a price match as I already had my new sim good to go and could I have my PAC please to transfer my number?
Call made during a short and sleepless toddler nap time, so whilst I had to listen to a small boy telling his toys off from the comfort of the bed, I could at least talk on the phone without the aural onslaught.
A little while later, having transferred my number and happily using my new sim in my very very old phone I realised that an email had appeared from my old provider. Something about a bill. A bill? I paid the last bill, why are they asking for more.
It read: -
Here is your latest bill for £211. Your money will be collected by direct debit. A little more than expected? Please click here.
It's a good job I had put my cup of tea down to check my email. If I'd been sipping it at the time then I dread to think what would have happened. We'd probably have had to replace the computer keyboard again at least.
Why was my bill so big? No I had not been phoning up Uruguay or Burkina Fasso. It was an "Early termination charge".
You WHAT? I was told I had a 14 day cooling off period and that wretched piece of pathetic technology they had tried to palm me off with had been in my possession for less than 24 hours. I'd never even bothered to charge it up.
I called the company, rather annoyed that now I wasn't a customer any more I'd get charged for the privilege. Eventually after listening to annoying hold music someone spoke to me and did indeed confirm that I'd returned the stupid phone within the time and the charge was unfair. I asked why I'd been given it in the first place.
It's because they'd sent me a bill for the new contract.
Yes, they'd tried to charge me for a months use of a phone that had been out of it's box for less than an hour. I'd never used the phone so I'd never activated the new sim it came with and therefore had not had any use of the new contract but the money grubbing little swine had charged me for it anyway, activating the contract and making me eligible for an early termination charge. I was told this was not a problem, the nice lady needed to get some forms to fill in so she'd ring me back before the end of the day to sort it all out.
She was lying, she never phoned back.
I phoned the following day, well aware that my ire had reached the point that I was close to chewing chunks out of the furniture. No problem, I was again told. No, I didn't need to fill in any forms. The charge could be cancelled then and there and I'd be able to see it credited back to my phone account in three working days. No, they hadn't taken the money already (previous lady said they had), it was due in just over a week so as a precaution I should cancel the direct debit.
We did, but it took some finding as they're a bit sneaky and hide the payment under a less than obvious name.
Four days later I checked my phone account online and noticed the charge was still there listed as outstanding and payment due. Joseph was up from his nap and I didn't fancy dealing with them and an unruly toddler so I postponed my annoyance till the following day and spent quite some time on hold again.
I got through and was told that the charge was indeed cancelled. No, I told them, it's not. Are you sure you're looking at the right account on your end because it's still very much there on mine.
It will look like that, I was told as the cancellation of the charge wont show up until the bill is due.
Why? I asked. Sounds a bit daft to me.
It's just how the computer system works.
Ok, I replied, but please be aware that I have now been told three differing things by three different people and I'm not sure who to believe any more. Either way, my direct debit cancelled and your company is not going to squeeze another penny from me however stupid their computer system might be.
Very sensible, she told me. By the tone of her voice I guessed she'd had far too many calls from grumpy customers dealing with bill errors due to their error ridden system. I felt sorry for her, thanked her for her time and hung up.
I'll let you all know the final upshot of all of this, but it probably wouldn't have come to this if I'd only been able to hear properly on the original phone call. Thanks Joseph, you little cheeky pain.
Would it be wrong of me to mention that the mobile network in question who have given me all the trouble are 02?
Probably.
Ooops.
Oh well.
Monday, 17 February 2014
Toddler Talk
Today, while I was getting him dressed, Joseph remarked: -
"I'm putting trousers in my legs." which caused me to laugh quite a lot.
So I thought I'd write down some of his more humorous uses of the English language before I forget them all.
"I am the Fat Controller, I am a tentacle."
It took me a while to work that one out. He is obsessed with steam trains and therefore a liking for Thomas the Tank Engine was going to be pretty inevitable. However I could not work out what the tentacle business was about until we later realised that he meant to say tender car, but was struggling to say it clearly.
"Cracking toast, Mummy!"
That's what happens when you let your small boy watch too much Wallace and Gromit.
Me (singing) - And on that farm he had a...
Joseph (all the following one at a time for each new verse: -)
Crab
Fish
Dinosaur
Car
The ceiling
A shoe
When Joseph saw the news story about the deportation of Abu Quatada he looked at the picture and said: -
"Look Mummy, Santa!"
"What are apples supposed to be?"
He was asking about the colour, but I wanted to respond - tasteless, hard to bite into and miserably healthy.
On trying to persuade him to go upstairs to get a toy he wanted, all he would say was that I had to get it, or at least come too. So I said: - "You're a big boy now!"
He said: - "You're a big Mummy!"
"I'm putting trousers in my legs." which caused me to laugh quite a lot.
So I thought I'd write down some of his more humorous uses of the English language before I forget them all.
"I am the Fat Controller, I am a tentacle."
It took me a while to work that one out. He is obsessed with steam trains and therefore a liking for Thomas the Tank Engine was going to be pretty inevitable. However I could not work out what the tentacle business was about until we later realised that he meant to say tender car, but was struggling to say it clearly.
"Cracking toast, Mummy!"
That's what happens when you let your small boy watch too much Wallace and Gromit.
Me (singing) - And on that farm he had a...
Joseph (all the following one at a time for each new verse: -)
Crab
Fish
Dinosaur
Car
The ceiling
A shoe
When Joseph saw the news story about the deportation of Abu Quatada he looked at the picture and said: -
"Look Mummy, Santa!"
"What are apples supposed to be?"
He was asking about the colour, but I wanted to respond - tasteless, hard to bite into and miserably healthy.
On trying to persuade him to go upstairs to get a toy he wanted, all he would say was that I had to get it, or at least come too. So I said: - "You're a big boy now!"
He said: - "You're a big Mummy!"
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
A Cats Life
Hello I am Joseph and I have hijacked this blog for the moment.
I decided recently that I am going to model my behaviour on the cat (or The Cat as she seems to prefer). After all, she doesn't have to follow The Rules or do as she's told or use the potty or go to bed at the right time, she does what she wants and everyone just lets her and she still gets fed.
How does the cat get attention?
She just walks into a room and yells until Mummy and Daddy do something about it.
I like this idea. When I want something, that's what I do. I walk up to Mummy and just yell "Mummy!" till she listens. Sometimes I don't even walk up to her, I just yell from where I am because I am much louder than the cat.
It worked for a bit. However, they're learning. That's the problem with parents, they learn. Sometimes Mummy doesn't move at all, she just sits there and shouts ""What?" back at me. I find it funny, but it doesn't get me what I want so I yell "I want a sweetie!" and she just says "No." or "Not till you use the toilet properly."
Come to think of it, she often tells the cat "You've just been fed, go away." or "Get your claws out of my leg!!" when the cat meows a lot.
The cat runs around a lot to get their attention and likes to try and trip them up which I think is funny, but they don't.
If I run around a lot I get told to calm down.
Now... I'm trying to be aloof like the cat, but that isn't working either. Mummy just thinks I'm playing on my own and goes to have a rest. Now I know that carrying my little brother around in her tummy all day makes her very tired, but that's not the point. I'm trying to be like the cat.
The last thing was just ignoring everything they say and doing my own thing, like the cat does.
Unfortunately all this does is get me in a lot of trouble and put in the hall for five minutes. Oh come on Mummy, that's not fair! The cat does all sorts of silly things and all I did was throw a toy at you.
When the cat gets food she always turns her nose up at it and walk away, in the hope of something better. I tried that and I got told "You're not getting anything else, so eat your dinner or you don't get pudding."
The cat didn't get a new dinner either and actually I do like broccoli.
You know, I've had a bit of a think. Yesterday the cat got under Mummys feet and she nearly fell over it and she told the cat "So help me if you do that again I will do something to you that will make the RSPCA very cross, now go away!"
And then there was the day when the cat really upset Daddy and he locked her outside for a little bit.
I'm starting to think behaving like the cat isn't so good. I like it when Mummy and Daddy are happy and I really don't like it when they get cross. Perhaps copying the cat is not such a good idea after all. I'll go and give Mummy a hug, she likes that.
I decided recently that I am going to model my behaviour on the cat (or The Cat as she seems to prefer). After all, she doesn't have to follow The Rules or do as she's told or use the potty or go to bed at the right time, she does what she wants and everyone just lets her and she still gets fed.
How does the cat get attention?
She just walks into a room and yells until Mummy and Daddy do something about it.
I like this idea. When I want something, that's what I do. I walk up to Mummy and just yell "Mummy!" till she listens. Sometimes I don't even walk up to her, I just yell from where I am because I am much louder than the cat.
It worked for a bit. However, they're learning. That's the problem with parents, they learn. Sometimes Mummy doesn't move at all, she just sits there and shouts ""What?" back at me. I find it funny, but it doesn't get me what I want so I yell "I want a sweetie!" and she just says "No." or "Not till you use the toilet properly."
Come to think of it, she often tells the cat "You've just been fed, go away." or "Get your claws out of my leg!!" when the cat meows a lot.
The cat runs around a lot to get their attention and likes to try and trip them up which I think is funny, but they don't.
If I run around a lot I get told to calm down.
Now... I'm trying to be aloof like the cat, but that isn't working either. Mummy just thinks I'm playing on my own and goes to have a rest. Now I know that carrying my little brother around in her tummy all day makes her very tired, but that's not the point. I'm trying to be like the cat.
The last thing was just ignoring everything they say and doing my own thing, like the cat does.
Unfortunately all this does is get me in a lot of trouble and put in the hall for five minutes. Oh come on Mummy, that's not fair! The cat does all sorts of silly things and all I did was throw a toy at you.
When the cat gets food she always turns her nose up at it and walk away, in the hope of something better. I tried that and I got told "You're not getting anything else, so eat your dinner or you don't get pudding."
The cat didn't get a new dinner either and actually I do like broccoli.
You know, I've had a bit of a think. Yesterday the cat got under Mummys feet and she nearly fell over it and she told the cat "So help me if you do that again I will do something to you that will make the RSPCA very cross, now go away!"
And then there was the day when the cat really upset Daddy and he locked her outside for a little bit.
I'm starting to think behaving like the cat isn't so good. I like it when Mummy and Daddy are happy and I really don't like it when they get cross. Perhaps copying the cat is not such a good idea after all. I'll go and give Mummy a hug, she likes that.
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
Phonics
There's been a lot in the UK news about phonics.
It's how kids are taught to read in reception year at school. By all accounts, it's probably better than previous systems. I went to school when "Look and Say" - or rather the 1980's version of said system was in full effect and it let rather a lot of people down. I count myself very lucky that my sister taught me to read and write quite fluently before I ever went near a school (although her methods probably wouldn't be accepted in modern schooling) and that meant that as the teacher went on about something I wasn't much interested, I could sit and read a book. I remember my Mum going to the infant school to complain that I was being sent home with books that had one or two words per page. "But she can read proper books!" she said. The teacher said something about the level I was supposed to be on, but pretty much conceded the point.
From what I've been told, they're not allowed to do that now. All reception year children, be they barely four or almost five, are started from the zero point of assuming they can't tell a letter from a brightly coloured plastic toy and that they probably don't know one end of a pen from the other either. Now, some kids probably don't.
But what about the ones that do?
The latest research is that kids who arrive at the start of this system who can either already read quite well or are well on the way are often damaged by it. Why? Because they have to start at the beginning from scratch regardless. They have to re-learn what is becoming instinctive already and given that half the English language does not follow the rules, causes them nothing but confusion.
Teachers are not allowed to divide the class up into those who can read and those who can't because they all have to take an official phonics test to make sure they know phonics. Not to make sure they can read, but to make sure they've learned the system. That's the mad bit. Apparently a child can do quite badly on the test, especially if they're already a fluent reader as it contains nonsense words to see if they get phonics.
So, my best bet is not to teach Joseph to read.
But here we hit a problem, and not an easy one to bypass.
Joseph is left handed, and very left handed at that.
Why should that be a problem? It might sound irrelevant, but I know it isn't. I am left handed and probably still would be a lot more left handed than I am if I had not grown up in a right handed world. From my point of view, the whole world is the wrong way round. Jars open the wrong way, pens are on the wrong side in banks and I sometimes get tangled up, I am constantly forced to use my weaker side to do things and as a result my poor brain has had to adapt and it isn't always easy. I don't say all this to moan or insist that the world changes for me, but being a leftie does come with a few problems.
Letters and numbers. It took me a long time to be clear over a d and a b. I wanted to write everything backwards, I wanted to write from right to left as that was what was comfortable and natural for me. I was nine or ten when I FINALLY worked out which way round fives, sixes and sevens should be. They just looked better the wrong way round and then I'd get flustered and my primary school teacher decided that it was because I was thick. I wasn't thick, just left handed. Oh how I am glad I started ahead of the curve with reading and writing, I don't think I'd have learned at all if we'd just relied on school alone.
Joseph is highly likely to have all the same problems. He too will quickly see how the world is all back to front and his little brain will have to work harder to make sense of it, so it makes sense to start early and make sure he's not at left to the whims of an education system that always seems to prefer leaving the struggling kids to struggle rather than work out why.
Except, as is now being shown, arriving at reception year at school already able to read IS a disadvantage.
Sometimes home schooling is jolly tempting.
Except that according to all the experty people I will be doing him a disservice by depriving him of regular social contact with his peers.
Help!
It's how kids are taught to read in reception year at school. By all accounts, it's probably better than previous systems. I went to school when "Look and Say" - or rather the 1980's version of said system was in full effect and it let rather a lot of people down. I count myself very lucky that my sister taught me to read and write quite fluently before I ever went near a school (although her methods probably wouldn't be accepted in modern schooling) and that meant that as the teacher went on about something I wasn't much interested, I could sit and read a book. I remember my Mum going to the infant school to complain that I was being sent home with books that had one or two words per page. "But she can read proper books!" she said. The teacher said something about the level I was supposed to be on, but pretty much conceded the point.
From what I've been told, they're not allowed to do that now. All reception year children, be they barely four or almost five, are started from the zero point of assuming they can't tell a letter from a brightly coloured plastic toy and that they probably don't know one end of a pen from the other either. Now, some kids probably don't.
But what about the ones that do?
The latest research is that kids who arrive at the start of this system who can either already read quite well or are well on the way are often damaged by it. Why? Because they have to start at the beginning from scratch regardless. They have to re-learn what is becoming instinctive already and given that half the English language does not follow the rules, causes them nothing but confusion.
Teachers are not allowed to divide the class up into those who can read and those who can't because they all have to take an official phonics test to make sure they know phonics. Not to make sure they can read, but to make sure they've learned the system. That's the mad bit. Apparently a child can do quite badly on the test, especially if they're already a fluent reader as it contains nonsense words to see if they get phonics.
So, my best bet is not to teach Joseph to read.
But here we hit a problem, and not an easy one to bypass.
Joseph is left handed, and very left handed at that.
Why should that be a problem? It might sound irrelevant, but I know it isn't. I am left handed and probably still would be a lot more left handed than I am if I had not grown up in a right handed world. From my point of view, the whole world is the wrong way round. Jars open the wrong way, pens are on the wrong side in banks and I sometimes get tangled up, I am constantly forced to use my weaker side to do things and as a result my poor brain has had to adapt and it isn't always easy. I don't say all this to moan or insist that the world changes for me, but being a leftie does come with a few problems.
Letters and numbers. It took me a long time to be clear over a d and a b. I wanted to write everything backwards, I wanted to write from right to left as that was what was comfortable and natural for me. I was nine or ten when I FINALLY worked out which way round fives, sixes and sevens should be. They just looked better the wrong way round and then I'd get flustered and my primary school teacher decided that it was because I was thick. I wasn't thick, just left handed. Oh how I am glad I started ahead of the curve with reading and writing, I don't think I'd have learned at all if we'd just relied on school alone.
Joseph is highly likely to have all the same problems. He too will quickly see how the world is all back to front and his little brain will have to work harder to make sense of it, so it makes sense to start early and make sure he's not at left to the whims of an education system that always seems to prefer leaving the struggling kids to struggle rather than work out why.
Except, as is now being shown, arriving at reception year at school already able to read IS a disadvantage.
Sometimes home schooling is jolly tempting.
Except that according to all the experty people I will be doing him a disservice by depriving him of regular social contact with his peers.
Help!
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