'Tis the season to be jolly ...

A 4 year old's social life is hectic! Throughout November there has been at least one birthday party every weekend! We started December with 2 parties on the same day - the longest day of my life. This weekend we're cramming in a Christmas party, trip to see Santa, school production of High School Musical, Christmas fair and the Christingle service at my parent's local church. Then things really turn up a gear - visitors at the beginning of the week followed by the nursery nativity.

Last year my son was an angelic little angel in the nativity play - this year he's grown so much taller than the rest that I don't think he could pass it off. Like every mother of sons I was pushing for Joseph - I played the 'my son's been here since the day it opened' card but to no avail. 'We're' a shepherd - though my son insists that he is the 'leader shepherd'. As far as I know he has no lines to say - there's one 'speaking angel' but no 'speaking shepherd'. He refuses to rehearse with me as I don't know the tunes (apparently 'Whoops-a-daisy Angel' is legendary but I've not head of it - yet).

I have fears that my son will spontaneously combust before Christmas day. He's already demanding that the things we did last year (when we had more money) are tradition and need to be repeated. Each morning he's left for nursery demanding a 'Christmas surprise' when he gets back. It was nice to have help with the tree - even if he deemed it 'hard work' after only 10 minutes.

My only problem is his behaviour. I kind of thought that, for a few years at least, he'd be so scared of not getting any presents that he would behave perfectly for the whole of December (poor deluded fool that I am). The tantrums are worse than ever - take 2 stubborn people and let them wonder why their child is so stubborn. He WILL not back down. He WILL scream at the top of his voice at the slightest sign of not getting his own way. When they are 2 onlookers will smile and mutter 'terrible twos', when they are 4 (but almost as tall as a 6 year old) they're looking up social services on their mobiles speed dial. My OH and I are the ones covered in bruises as we try to reason with him on the naughty step.

Back in November I came up with an idea - perhaps Santa could write him a letter, advise him that the was currently on the naughty list and that he should try extra hard to be good to get promoted onto the good list. My mum said she'd report me for child abuse...

I did get Santa to write a little p.s. reminding him to be good over the next few weeks - and, boy, are we referring to it daily. Maybe nursery made a wise choice in not trusting him with a 'lead' role ;-)

Weekend Bear

It seems an age since I last posted - probably because it has been.

During the first weekend of half term we had a special visitor. It seems that my son had managed to behave for long enough at nursery to be bestowed with the task of looking after weekend bear.

This was no minor feat - he's been trying for 18 months. With the stuffed toy came much responsibility - there was a diary to fill out with all of weekend bear's adventures.

'Competitive parent' came out in earnest as I read the diary to see what adventures the bear had been on over previous weekends. What was funny was that my OH suffered the same affliction. He had grand ideas for taking him to museums and outings. Unfortunately it was the weekend that the clocks went back and son had a cold so we managed about 4 hours sleep and ... well ... we went to Sainsbury's.

But I think the bear enjoyed it ...

Future health issues

Whilst at the pool today I overheard a conversation between two women about the new HPV vaccine being offered to girls from 12 years old through schools. The women were discussing whether their daughters should have the vaccine because a friend had commented that 'it sends out the signal that they are promiscuous'. I got quite angry about it - though not angry enough to turn around and say anything - because in my mind it does no such thing.

My mother has a different view - she was disturbed when we lived in Scotland and my sister was called up for a Rubella vaccination, aged 10. The nurse explained that they had had a few instances of pregnancy at aged 10 or younger. She can see why some mothers would have reservations.

Maybe it's because I have a son not a daughter but I would like to think that I would ensure that my daughter had this injection because of the obvious benefits to her future health - just as I decided to go ahead with getting my son immunised when there was all that fuss about the MMR. Obviously I wouldn't be condoning teenage sex but I don't think that should be a stumbling block to protecting future health.

School dinners

(photo from http://www.number10.gov.uk/Page8237)

Well actually I had dinner at my son's nursery on Monday. I must admit I wasn't looking forward to it - the state of his clothes on the days that he stays for lunch speak to me of food fights.

The menu was Vegatable Lasange and Garlic bread followed by Peach Crumble.

I was a bit anxious about the lasagna - I'm not vegetarian, I do cook some vegetarian dishes but lasagna isn't one of them. I was pleasantly surprised - it was yummy (my son's phrase). He cleared his plate and ate 3 pieces of garlic bread, though none of the side accompaniment of broccoli (you'd have been proud of me as I forced 3 stalks down as a good example). My son likes his food but I've never seen him clear his plate like that.

When the crumble arrived it was a disappointment - the peaches had been strained of any juice there had been in the tin and the crumble was made without any hint of sugar (ditto the custard). I'd expected the type of pudding I got at school. My son, bless him, finished his and asked for more. I said that he could share mine and he promptly pushed his plate aside and grabbed mine leaving me holding my spoon mid-air.

What did impress me was the cook. My son's best friend ate hardly anything and his mother was bemoaning the fact that he didn't eat at home either. 'In fact he won't eat his breakfast, he had half a packet of Quavers for his breakfast today ...' - If you don't know already Quavers are a cheesy crisp - despite the claims of reduced fat and salt content I'm sure they are not designed as breakfast food. Whilst the other mums and I recovered from our shock and tried not to scream out 'what possessed you to give him ...' the cook sat down and shared some constructive tips on helping getting children to eat proper meals. It was really practical advice and I was reassured that she knew her stuff.

We've already seen the menu at the school my son will be attending from January - on Tuesday it's venison burgers and Wednesday it's chocolate pudding with chocolate custard (minus the chocolate I expect).

Children's Story Competition

If you're interested in writing a children's story and winning the chance to see it being recorded into a podcast AND a day trip to Lapland I've posted the details of the competition here.

Heroes and Bullies

I've just been writing in the comments part of RB's blog - but ended up deleting it because I had too much to say.

The question was in light of this news (and others in a town near you I expect) - what would you have done? Would you have walked by and then rung the police or would you have got involved, even if that risked your own life?

I would help, without thinking. I don't think that it is a conscious decision - either you are that kind of person or not. My mother is - I've always been a bit in awe of her, throughout my childhood she would stop to help women on their own get buggies/prams down stairs, rescue lost and bewildered pensioners and be able to tell instantly in a chance encounter she had with a stranger that they needed to talk and she's always strongly believed in the power of a cup of tea - and my OH is. My BiL is a policeman (and before that did a bit of security) and my SiL works with young adults and, like my OH, they seem to be able to control situations without actually doing much.

We once ended up having no contact with a branch of the family because my OH stepped in when his drunken uncle made a charge for my FiL swearing he would kill him (it's a fun family with age old grudges!) - my OH had such presence that half the people there believed his uncle's 'morning after' claim that my OH had punched him, but all he had done was calmly stand in his way.

When we were in Sydney with my sister-in-law a fight broke out on the ferry from the city to where we were staying. My SiL stepped in, calmed the couple down and enlisted the help of others to separate the two groups who had formed, dragged the crew out of where they'd been hiding and called the police who were waiting when we docked. (My OH wasn't that good that time as he was outside on the deck taking photos and didn't know anything had happened until he saw the police).

I get weekly stories of his heroic efforts at work - shoplifters often arrive armed with syringes, claiming they are HIV, yet the staff have to keep things under control so that shoppers aren't affected during their 'shopping experience'.

Oh and, of course we had our New Year's Eve experience - unfortunately the people we sheltered that night were too scared to press charges and we hadn't seen enough to be witnesses.

Granted OH there or not I would probably be the one calling the police - and at New Year's I made tea and stayed with them whilst they talked to the police while my OH went out to find their son.

I will be very proud if my son inherits that 'presence' his father has - he already stands up for the ones being bullied at nursery - but we do tell him that it is wrong to hit people, even if they've hit you or your friend and I will talk to him about gangs and gang culture - I might get him to read this as it had a lasting impression on me. Though he is only 4 so I may change my mind completely when he's in secondary school.

Where do babies come from?*

I've just posted about the sorted books project on my other blog but couldn't resist putting one here too:

* in case you were wondering you can't get pregnant from kissing - but that is what my Sunday school teacher implied when I was young and impressionable ;-)