Friday, 1 May 2015

Popular family activities: Perception versus reality

As a parent, there's a huge amount of  pressure to be seen to be doing certain things with your offspring. Not only that, there's a lot of pressure to be seen to be enjoying doing these things.

Naturally, Team Average  has succumbed to such pressures. Like lambs to the slaughter, we've attempted to re-enact the *simple* Pinterest suggestions and inspirational Facebook posts. 

We've failed. Miserably. Perhaps you can identify with our average experience of popular family pursuits versus the sugar coated perceptions? If not, have a laugh at our expense anyway. I dare you.


The vision: Clad in a spotless Cath Kidston apron and resembling a Tana Ramsay-esque yummy mummy, you work in harmony with your offspring to lovingly prepare a delicious yet nutritious feast. You serve this warm (and a little triumphantly) from the oven as your partner arrives home.

The reality: Hubby appears home tired and grumpy to discover a kitchen resembling a snow storm, due to the lethal combination of over-exuberant child + industrial quantities of icing sugar. No utensil in the house remains unused. Nothing vaguely edible seems likely to appear forthwith from the oven.


The vision: You and your child fashion the modern-day equivalent of Blue Peter's Christmas advent crown project using handy bits and pieces from around the home. Your child scoops the class prize and you gain major playground kudos as the *modest yet talented* craft-loving family. 

The reality: At 10pm the night prior to submission you realise that your bright idea is doomed.  With offspring despatched to bed in tears, you send your partner to the nearest 24-hour Tesco for a craft kit.  The two of you spend until midnight glowering at each other over the kitchen table, cursing the ineffective tube of white glue that features in all of said craft kits.


The vision: You are the epitome of the sporty, community-minded family. Even in rainy weather, you forego all temptation to plonk the kids in front of the telly. Instead, you plump for a fun-filled active afternoon at the local baths.

The reality: It's raining. A zillion other families have the same idea. You eventually access the packed shallow end to discover that one of the small people needs the toilet.  As you shiver your way to the loos, you meet at least three people you know, all of whom have the advantage of being dry and fully clothed.  Your actual time in the water consists of bobbing around to keep warm while wondering how much longer you have to last before you can clamber out for a hot chocolate.


In case you are wondering, Team Average does enjoy spending time together as a family. 


Well, at least once a year.

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Thursday, 23 April 2015

Dealing with disappointment

Disappointment has a bitter taste.  Most of us will have experienced it - perhaps combined with an unwanted shot of rejection and a side order of despair.

Disappointment can be crushing. It encourages a rash of negative feelings - shame, hurt, anger, despondency.  When you've gone all out for something, the disappointment of not getting it can hurt as much as a physical blow to the stomach.

Given that disappointment is part of life, how do you deal with it?

I certainly don't have a definitive answer. Instead, here's what I'm slowly learning from the life knocks I've encountered along the way...

Time  Don't expect to get over it immediately.  If it meant a lot, it will hurt a lot. Slowly but surely the sting of the smack will subside.  At the very least, you'll get better at living with it.

Perspective  If you're anything like me, you'll have experienced other such hurts.  Being told that you'll bounce back is an oversimplification.  But you will survive to tell the tale.

You're not alone While your particular disappointment is personal to you, bear in mind that almost everyone suffers setbacks in life.  Avoid the temptation to fall into the role of victim.

Experience Something can be learned from each life experience. However deep the disappointment. However painful. However stomach-churning.

In the words of the Dalai Lama: "When you lose, don't lose the lesson."

And if you feel your disappointment represents failure, remember this quote from writer and novelist Michael Korda:

"The freedom to fail is vital if you're going to succeed. Most successful people fail from time to time, and it is a measure of their strength that failure propels them into some new attempt at succcess."

So give yourself time. Acknowledge the disappointment. Remember that others have suffered similarly.  Learn the painful lessons. Regroup, move on and start afresh. You can, and will, find the strength.

How do you deal with disappointment? Leave a comment and let me know.

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Thursday, 9 April 2015

Housework hacks for family homes

Everything changes when you have children.  

Even the most mundane of procedures. Take housework, for example.

Pre-kids, it's something you tolerate.  A necessary evil. When the mood strikes (or when visitors are due), you knuckle down, get through it and get on with your life.

Post-kids, it doesn't work that way.  Not only do you have less time for it, the results of your efforts last but a fleeting nanosecond.  After which, all that hard work is undone.  Job satisfaction = zero.

As for the process itself, it becomes considerably more - ahem - fraught.

Let's start with hoovering. Pre-kids, your trusty Dyson blithely services your floors on a regular and uncomplaining basis. 

Post-kids, it contends with all manner of outrages - discarded loom bands, stray Hama beads and the dreaded Lego brick.  (The noise on contact can make a grown woman cry.) 

Our last appliance was killed by a more subtle intruder. All respect to the new destructive force on the block.  People, I give you the kirby grip.

As for dusting (yes, you're meant to do that too), simply accessing the surfaces is a challenge in itself. By the time you've shifted all the detritus of family life, you're ready for a wee lie down. Forget flying into a frenzy with the feather duster.  

As one chum confided: "I'd love to get a cleaner but I'd have to tidy up first." We hear ya sister.

So what's a hard-pressed parent to do? Assuming you'd like company within the next decade, consider some housework hacks...

Provided you can contain your guests downstairs, restrict your efforts to the ground floor.

Focus on hoovering only as far as the turn in the stairs. Ensure the downstairs cloakroom is gleaming like a pin. Shamelessly ignore the sorry state of affairs that is your en suite.

Stagger upstairs with all two hundred of your family members' assorted jackets. Lob said outerwear in a bedroom.   Revel smugly as guests admire your minimalist coat rack.

One cautionary note:   Beware the sociable pre-schooler who likes to invite people to *come up and see my bedroom*. Inquisitive guests won't be able to resist. 

And you, my friend, will be rumbled.  

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Friday, 27 March 2015

Parenting: When to push - and when to let go

Pushy parents.  No-one likes them. No-one wants to be known as one.

And yet...

Sometimes children need to be pushed.  I've lost count of the conversations I've had with other parents on the subject. Your child shows an aptitude for something but is nervous about pursuing it.  Do you coax and cajole or accept their reluctance? Or - and this tends to happen more as they get older - your child has already proven they are good at something but insists on giving it up.

When do you push them forwards and when do you let go? I wish I had the definitive answer. I'm pretty sure I've called it wrong a few times myself already.  Along the way, however, I've picked up some helpful guidelines...

Safety first
The one activity I insist that my kids stick with is swimming. Until they are water confident, the lessons continue. As for the rest of their sporting activities, as long as they exercise, I'm happy for them to try different things.

See it through - at least in the short-term
The plaintive "I want to stop drama/gymnastics/piano" inevitably strikes up halfway through the lesson block.  At Average Towers, this is another non-negotiable: If we've paid for the term, we stay for the term.  By which time, they've often decided they want to continue.  If not, then the bigger "Are you sure?" conversation takes place in the holidays.

Get to the heart of the matter
As a child, I gave up ballet lessons because another little girl repeatedly pulled at my leotard. I never told my parents why I wanted to give up; I just insisted that I did.  As an adult, I realise how easily this issue could have been resolved. Make sure you know the real reasons behind your child's decision. It may be nothing to do with the activity itself.  And it may be easily sorted too.

Same activity, different set-up
You know they're good at it.  Deep down, they know they're good at it. But something about the existing arrangement isn't working.  Could they go on a different evening - with different children, or a different instructor?  Does another club offer the same activity that they could try instead? Constant chopping and changing isn't recommended. But a one-off switch to avoid a personality clash with a coach, for example, might be worth exploring.

Over to them
There comes a point when children want to take some responsibility for their own decisions.  If older children persist in their desire to drop something, you may just have to accept it.  Many of us return to these activities in adulthood.  If it's meant to be, they'll find their own way back.

Time to relocate my ballet pumps?

Do you struggle with knowing when to push your children and when to let go? Leave a comment and let me know.

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Thursday, 19 March 2015

Rules for dads left in charge this weekend

I'm going away for a couple of days. That's right people, an entire 48 hours.  Leaving Mr Average in charge.

So there needs to be a list.  But it doesn't consist of simple errands or activity timetables. Oh no.  

My ten years of - ahem - managing Average Towers has resulted in a set of full-blown guidelines. Call it control freakery if you like. I call it common-sense based on past experience...


Under no circumstances, should you blow our entire monthly budget on fun-filled and expensive excursions.  This may well result in our offspring having "the best time ever" and elevate you to the position of *fun daddy*.  It's still not worth incurring my wrath for.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, it's equally unacceptable to park them in front of the telly for two days solid.


Breakfast can surely take care of itself.  Lunch should feature at least one attempt at fresh fruit or vegetables. Boxed raisins do not count.

When it comes to teatime, ignore the lovingly well-stocked fridge at your peril.  Repairing to the fish and chip shop is not an option. Your failure to air the house afterwards means you'll be rumbled within 20 seconds of my arrival home.


Roping in your mother (or indeed mine) to help is a cop-out. This applies to any other female relative who might be approached in the role of rescuer.

Worse still is the exploitation of any play dates that I have earned on behalf of our children. Don't even go there. Those two hours of payback are mine.


It would be useful if the house interior was vaguely recognisable on my return. I don't expect clean.  I don't even expect tidy.  Merely habitable.

There should be a grace period of at least one week before you mention booking your own cycling/ski-ing/rugby trip with the guys - and the fact that it's several days longer than mine.

Stick to the above and we'll be just fine.

(To all those crudité-preparing, nature-rambling fathers out there, I apologise.  To all the other Mr Averages, read and learn.)

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Thursday, 12 March 2015

How (not) to exercise with kids

I was pregnant with my first child when I saw her. It was a beautiful summer evening and her blond ponytail swished as she pedalled along with her two children - one on a rear child seat, the other on a small bike beside her.

And I thought to myself: "That's the kind of mother I'm going to be."

Ha ruddy ha.  I may have been hallucinating a decade ago. Because we all know that serene cycling with two children in tow is nigh on impossible. As is any kind of productive exercise. Consider my own contrasting experiences...


Let's start with the activity of choice of my blond pony-tailed friend.  Like every good mother, I bowed to the pressure of removing my children's stabilisers as soon as humanly possible. Warning: This does not instantly guarantee a Von Trapp family cycling experience.  Not in our case anyway.

As far as my children are concerned, the rules of the family cycle run are as follows:

  • One of you should hurtle along as quickly as possible, while the other languishes at snail's pace. This leaves the lone parent in a satisfying quandary about who to stick with.

  • Should any traffic approach, do the opposite of your parent's instructions. Don't stick to the side of the road. Instead veer towards the tempting white line in the middle of it.

  • If riding in front, feel free to slam on your brakes without warning.  This is a reliable test of your parent's reflexes - and their ability to curtail their language in front of you.


After reading the above, I know what you are thinking. Why would you even try? Here's the rub. I'm not a very nice person if I don't run regularly. And Mr Average frequently works evenings and weekends. Fresh air and exercise is good for them. Right?

It may be good for them, but it doesn't bode well for anyone who takes their running seriously. Or anyone with the misfortune to share the pavements with you.  Determined to make a go of it, I've run alongside the kiddos on their scooters or bikes. Dog walkers and indeed any faint hearted pedestrians have regarded our small entourage with a mixture of bemusement and horror.  

Kerbs present a particular source of frustration.  Scooters don't go up and down them very satisfactorily.  As with the family cycle, one child will high-tail off gleefully while the other will have a strop - perhaps even grinding to regular halts.  You could try calling this stop-start situation *interval training*.  But even I'm not that much of an optimist.

There is but one vaguely satisfactory solution: You run circuits round the park while they play. Everyone else will think you're nuts. After ten years of parenthood, that's probably true.  


Surely it's possible to arrange 15 minutes of zen-like exercise in the comfort of your own living room? Not at Average Towers.

Child number two has declared himself my yoga partner.  This enthusiasm may seem sweet. The reality of the situation is otherwise:

  • He hogs the yoga mat, resulting in substantial parental carpet burn.
  • He fails to do any of the exercises correctly, thus destroying any atmosphere of calm with frenzied panics as to whether he's injured himself.
  • He openly guffaws at my own efforts. Certain positions cause particular hilarity. Reclined goddess anyone? 

Meanwhile child number one, a gymnast who folds herself in half effortlessly, looks on scornfully from behind her novel. Just to add to the experience.


When it comes to sporting heroes, forget your Olympians. Parents who successfully combine exercise with kids are the true winners.  And they really do deserve a medal.

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Wednesday, 11 March 2015

Book Review: The Ice Twins

When I read the email from Mumsnet Bloggers Network looking for reviewers for The Ice Twins, I felt compelled to apply.

The blurb below explains why...

A year after one of their identical twin daughters, Lydia, dies in an accident, Angus and Sarah Moorcroft move to the tiny Scottish island Angus inherited from his grandmother, hoping to put together the pieces of their shattered lives.

But when their surviving daughter, Kirstie, claims they have mistaken her identity - that she, in fact, is Lydia - their world comes crashing down once again.

As winter encroaches, Angus is forced to travel away from the island for work, Sarah is feeling isolated, and Kirstie (or is it Lydia?) is growing more disturbed.  When a violent storm leaves Sarah and her daughter stranded, Sarah finds herself tortured by the past - what really happened on that fateful day one of her daughters died?

First impressions

As one of the lucky chosen ten reviewers, I was delighted to receive not only the book but an accompanying package containing camomile tea, a Kitkat and a tealight. These were designed to help the reader #SurvivetheNight, as the story was touted as a suspenseful read that would keep the reader awake into the wee small hours.

I rarely buy new hardback books, so the arrival of one through the letterbox was exciting in itself for me!  I thought that both the words and the imagery on the cover worked well and added to the sense of intrigue. No further encouragement was needed to get started...

The setting

Much of the action takes place on the tiny Inner Hebridean Eilean Torran (Thunder Island), on which the Moorcrofts are the sole residents. Their isolation, and Sarah's lack of familiarity with island life, adds to the atmosphere.  As a Scot, I was relieved that much was made of the beauty of the scenery as well as the harsh weather conditions!

The story

I'm mindful not to include any spoilers here.  The suspense in this story starts to build from the outset. The Moorcrofts' situation is a complex one.  Not only have they lost a child but Sarah and Angus have additional significant struggles - both as individuals and within their marital relationship. There is much talk of the sea and wild weather conditions and, indeed, the reader is also swept among waves of ideas and nuances that keep them guessing as to the answers behind the Moorcrofts' surviving daughter's identity.  I suspect that most readers will be kept guessing right up to the very end of this one.

Personal thoughts

The thoughts that follow are purely personal. Others may feel very differently...

As regards the characters, this was one of those books where my sympathies didn't really rest with one character.  Both Angus and Sarah are flawed (but aren't we all?!). Hints throughout the book about their darker sides are intriguing as they keep the reader toying with theories as to who might truly be at fault.  The downside to this, for me, was that I didn't really form an attachment to either of them.

I did, however, find the surviving twin's anguish during the book quite distressing. There are a number of traumatic scenes featuring Kirstie/Lydia and, indeed, she is unhappy throughout most of the story.  I think readers will feel for the little girl at the heart of this book - the author capably captures her despair, frustration and withdrawal from others.

In terms of the plot, it really is quite fast paced. For me, there were almost too many twists and turns to the story. I should confess here that I'm the sort of person who frequently has to pause a film and ask my fellow viewers for explanations... Although I might have preferred a slightly slower, more drawn-out build-up, I am equally aware that other readers will relish the speed and multi-faceted nature of the story.  


When friends found out I had a copy of The Ice Twins, their reaction was: "Oh, I want to read that book."  I'll recommend that they do.

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A review copy of this book was sent to me free of charge by Mumsnet Bloggers Network. All opinions are my own and no payment was received in return for this review.