Ahhh. We needed that.

NS February 7th, 2010

What is it about hotels, B&Bs, inns, and other places that aren’t your own home? The moment TNH and I step foot into one without the children (a very rare occurrence, mind you, but it was our tenth wedding anniversary on Friday), it’s like we’re a completely different couple. No bickering, no responsibilities; plenty of talking, connecting and laughing (and other more physical pursuits — ahem); strolling arm-in-arm around town at our own pace and with our own agenda; the promise of an uninterrupted night together and sleeping as late as we want in the morning…it’s magical.

When we checked in we were the weary, busy parents of two children under four. When we checked out the following morning, we were us again. I remembered all of the things about him I fell in love with and he the same for me. One night to bring us back into each other’s arms and hearts was all it took. The best money we ever spent. Now to just remind ourselves to make those nights away together, just the two of us, less rare.

Photo my own

Children and media: overhyped or underestimated?

NS February 2nd, 2010

Is a lot of ’screen time’ for kids really as horrific as people like to make out? Are children rotting their brains, giving themselves virtual lobotomies, by watching television, playing video games, working on computers and using hand-held music devices/e-readers/mobile phones? A recent report showed that children in the US spend nearly eight hours per day consuming media — nearly as long as the average adult spends at work. I’m sure statistics are similar for children in the UK. This has really freaked some people out. It used to freak me out. I felt (and still feel) guilty for the amount of time The Noble Child spends staring at a screen. But increasingly, I’m asking myself why children consuming media is considered such an atrocity and why we are so panicked about it.

Full disclosure: my three-year-old watches a couple hours of television a day. She knows how to play simple games aimed at pre-schoolers on the computer. She can take photos on our digital camera. She instinctively knew how to use an iPhone when first exposed to one, with little explanation or demonstration. She could double-click and click-and-drag by the time she was two years old. The girl is tech-savvy. But so are her parents. My husband’s career is in computers. We are both active members of online communities; he on his sports forums and I with the blogosphere and Twitter. We both have iPhones. We both like to watch films and a few select TV shows. We stream videos. We take photos and upload them. We read a lot of our news on the computer screen, not from a newspaper spread over the breakfast table (though I do buy a broadsheet a couple times a week — nothing beats the weekend papers in bed). We’re fully linked in, wired up and logged on. So why wouldn’t our daughter (and eventually our son, too) be?

If that’s ALL she did then, yes, it would undoubtedly be unhealthy. If she lacked imagination, social interaction, literacy and communication skills or physical energy then, yes, I would be concerned. But she doesn’t. She is unimaginably sociable, friendly, outgoing, polite, empathetic and energetic. She can watch Finding Nemo contentedly but then jump up (sometimes in the middle of it) and want to play Bears or Hot Lava or Horsey Ride. She’s plainly thriving and developing at a normal pace. So the more I hear and read about the hysteria and see chests being beaten and hair being torn out by guilt-inflicted parents and drama-loving media sources, the more I think we’re blowing this all out of proportion. We all know that “studies say” and “experts suggest” that children have limited screen time, but what is the impetus for all these studies being conducted? Why the money, time and resources spent on finding out whether something that is unavoidably a part of our lives, and our kids’ lives, should be kept away from them?

The first response is to say they are being done for legitimate scientific and social purposes, to ensure that consuming all this new media will not have detrimental effects on us (which is a legitimate concern, certainly), but I have to wonder if at least some of this concern stems from the fact that advances in technology and our lifestyles have changed so rapidly in the last 10-20 years, leaving us little time to grow accustomed to it gradually, that our heads are left spinning, unsure how to process all of the information, choices and consequences. I also wonder if it’s something every generation does, where those who were once young and hip all of a sudden realise that they have grown older and a new modernity has set in, one which vastly influences the way they, and particularly their children, live their lives and spend their time. Often, it is our children who are least scared of these changes and we are the ones left scratching our heads and muttering phrases like “Back in my day…” while fixing whatever newfangled invention is ‘taking over the youth’ with a suspicious stare.

Rock music used to be considered the devil incarnate. Then it was films and TV. Then it was rap music and racy ads. Then it was video games. Now it’s mobile phones and computers. Different decade, same ol’ worries. Old/familiar = good, virtuous; Young/new = scary, unknown.

I saw a poll recently (can’t remember where or I’d link) where parents were asked how much TV their kids actually watched versus how much they told other people their kids watched and the discrepancies were not marginal. More than three-quarters said they felt their children watched too much television but, when asked, most halved that time. So are kids consuming too much media or are we just making each other feel guilty about it by under-reporting and hiding it because we don’t fully understand it? Is this just one more way in which parents are blamed for not being perfect, or are the ‘experts’ right to caution us about the effects of the Age of Tech?

I haven’t fully made up my mind yet. I vacillate between beating myself up and trying to curtail media usage to embracing it and reminding myself that my children are well-rounded, loved and properly cared for, regardless of ’screen time.’ After all, you wouldn’t be reading this post if it wasn’t for CBeebies. I get time to ponder and write (which makes me a better person and mother) and my children learn yoga poses from cute little animated figures, set to soothing music and chattering laughter.  Is that really so bad?

Photo credit

Sometimes you feel like a Brit, sometimes you don’t

NS January 29th, 2010

Ways in which I have become Anglicised:

  • My preferred swear words are Bloody, Shite and Bollocks
  • I can eat a sandwich with spread (butter) on it and not gag
  • I pronounce the ‘T’ in words like ‘beautiful’, ‘Peter’ and ‘dirty’
  • I love me a pint of bitter
  • I go for a walk on Boxing Day no matter how miserable it is outside
  • I can find a way to complain about the weather, even if it’s sunny
  • I get a bit irate sometimes at how the Council spends my money
  • If it snows, I don’t shovel my walk because no one else has
  • When I’m ill, all I want is a cup of tea and my hot water bottle
  • I eat jacket (baked) potatoes with tuna or cheesy beans on top
  • I listen to BBC Radio whilst doing the washing up
  • I use the word ‘whilst’
  • I say ‘windscreen’, ‘boot’, and ‘indicate’ instead of ‘windshield’, ‘trunk’ and ’signal’

Ways in which I am not Anglicised:

  • I don’t mercilessly harass ginger (redhead) people
  • I don’t constantly say “That’s so middle class”
  • I hate brown sauce, Marmite and Branston’s pickle
  • I refuse to consider hard sponge with marzipan on top to be “cake”
  • I can say the word ‘bap’ and not giggle
  • I will never believe anyone who says they had a proper cocktail at a pub
  • It’s Santa, not Father Christmas
  • I don’t believe that Halloween is just for devil-worshippers, criminals and Americans
  • I refuse to consider the Sun, Daily Mail, Metro, etc.. “newspapers”
  • I think British soaps (Corrie, Enders, et al) are absolutely rubbish
  • Ditto for British dramas (not including period films)
  • I still can’t get used to the teeth  I see on some people in television
  • I don’t intentionally set out to get shit-faced when I drink
  • Seafood on pizza is just wrong, as is sweetcorn
  • I will never say ‘aluminium’ or ‘bonnet’. It’s aluminum and hood, damn it!
  • I think Jeremy Clarkson is a national disease, not a national treasure

I had a vision of love

NS January 25th, 2010

And after all that waxing lyrical about staying indoors, what did we end up doing yesterday afternoon, less than two hour after I wrote about looking out windows and staying warm? Strapping the wellies on, driving out to Richmond Park, tromping up and down exceedingly muddy paths and then having a good run around the playground.

The lazy, cosy morning and the outdoor, active afternoon…they were perfect. Each on their own but especially together. And when we pulled up in front of our home, just as darkness was throwing its blanket over the half-lit, golden hue clinging to the edges of the sky, The Noble Husband and I turned to each other and smiled. I switched the ignition off and we sat in silence, holding hands for a moment before we turned around to see our children, both asleep and with their faces turned upward in identical, open-mouthed poses, the very picture of vulnerable, lovely innocence. Our eyes met as we gathered our things and silently relayed every emotion our hearts were bursting with. Before we scooped them up and woke them from their peaceful reveries, we looked once more at their soft faces, breathtakingly beautiful, and watched their chests rise and fall, rise and fall, with the breath that we gave them.

“Is there anything more incredible and wonderful then this?” my heart asked his.

The trembling of his lips and the brightening pools of his eyes said that, indeed, there was not.

Sunday Mothering

NS January 24th, 2010

Quiet contemplation and frenzied scribbling (or typing, rather) may not make sense to many as a suitable and entirely worthwhile pursuit on which to spend an entire Sunday when the sun is shining and there are ruddy, muddy outdoor romps to be had, but to me it is perfection and bliss. My husband does not understand it. My children…do they suffer for it? Or, rather, do they benefit from the happiness and satisfaction it gives me?

My method of Sunday mothering may not involve wellies, mountaintop picnics or forest adventures but instead hot chocolate kisses, counting raindrops on windows and reading stories of wizards and cats and little girls who won’t go to bed. We may only venture outside to gather the necessary supplies for baking more chocolate chip cupcakes but does our quiet, near, indoor adventure mean any less simply because it wasn’t undertaken beneath the grey sky and through the long, wet grass?

Perhaps my children will look back at winter Sundays — their mother curled cosily under her blanket, fingers poised motionless above the keyboard as she takes in a scene of familial merriment with a smile as broad as a river on her lips — and they will not be disappointed that we weren’t somewhere new and dangerous, but familiar and safe and warm. Together.

Next »