In order to cope with the terrible twos we introduced the pasta jar into our house. Simple enough concept. Every time Izzy was ‘good’ she got a piece of pasta, and once the jar was full she got a reward, from a new colouring book or small toy to a trip to the cinema.
It worked well at first, but the idea of what constituted ‘being good’ was a bit vague and open to negotiation. There was inconsistency and the novelty wore off.
When we reintroduced the pasta jar just for potty training it worked much better. There was a clear rule for when pasta was given – and when she had an accident she was reminded that next time she would get pasta if she used the toilet or potty.
Day three of chicken pox – or ‘chicken pops’ as Izzy calls them – and she is covered from head to toe. She’s been up most of the night, wriggling and scratching in our bed, only going back to sleep in her own bed once I camped down on her floor in a sleeping bag. So cue two very tired parents today – one at work and one blogging in an effort not to fall asleep on the sofa while Izzy watches Disney Junior.
New research promotes co-sleeping
Izzy came through to our room and climbed in bed with us last night. We don’t encourage this and luckily it doesn’t happen often but as long as she is prepared to go to sleep and not just wanting to play sometimes it’s not worth the 2am tears to try and put her back in her own bed. However I cannot sleep well when she’s in bed with me. I toss and turn a lot and I’m terrified of rolling over, hitting, kicking or covering her with a big thick duvet.
Plus I have the occasional crazy moment in my sleep. It started when I used to breastfeed Izzy while sat in bed. I would half wake up and wouldn’t be able to remember putting her back in her moses basket so I would start to panic that I’d fallen asleep while feeding and dropped her. Sometimes I would be convinced that Izzy was in bed and was about to fall out so would hold her tightly trying to save her. Except Isabel would be safe in her basket or cot and instead of ‘saving’ I was full on attacking Hubby in his sleep. Somehow mistaking a grown man for a tiny baby.
We bought this book for our 3 year old to explain why mummy is getting fat. Well, fatter. Each page tells the child what happens each month of pregnancy.
Izzy was stood in the fruit and veg aisle is Tesco and suddenly started to get very excited when she spotted a pineapple – as her book told her thats how big baby Nemo is this month. So she preceeded to tell everyone in sight about how her mummy has a pineapple sized baby in her belly.
Katie Hopkins’ latest rant is about full time mothers.
I really don’t get this woman. She basically spends her her time dishing out controversial parenting advice despite spending so little time with her own children and seemingly having such intense hatred for anything to do with motherhood. She considers being a full time mum as some kind of cop out from ‘real life’. Even part time workers don’t get a break, with her seeing that as not being committed enough to a career. Working full time might work for her. It might work for many mothers, as all families and situations are different. But it’s about choice. She makes it sound like women should be ashamed to enjoy motherhood. As if it goes against everything that generations of women have fought so hard for in terms of gender equality.