Bed Wetting: The School Age Taboo

This post brought to you by DryNites®. The content and siobhanclancy.com opinions expressed below are that of More Than Toast.

IMG_0190 I’ve noticed as a mum there are still some topics that are taboo, even within circles of friends. We discuss so much with other mothers – education, health, relationships, POO – but there are some things that really still don’t get discussed. One of these things I’ve noticed is the subject of bedwetting. I have one particular friend who I talk about this with and we always comment that it’s really unusual to hear other mums discuss where they are at with this stage of their children growing up. I’m not sure if it’s seen as shameful or embarrassing but I very rarely get roped into conversation about it. I’ve asked my own mum about it and apparently I was incredibly advanced and was dry at night at something like three months old. Not really. IMG_3039 But in all seriousness according to her it happened from something like 20 months onwards, which despite me already knowing I was an incredibly advanced child ;) has made me wonder if I’m doing anything wrong with my children. Is it OK that, at the age of nearly-5, Elfie is not consistently dry at night? Of course it is! I’ve recently been doing some research and have learnt that 10% of all 4-15 year olds wet the bed at some point, with most cases occurring in children after 8. So you’re definitely not alone. Normally just a developmental stage, it’s worth bearing in mind that night time dryness is usually something that feels like it takes ages to be mastered. One could argue that this isn’t a situation limited to children under five. I’ve been reading the comedian Rob Delaney’s autobiography recently and he wet the bed up til the age of 21… IMG_3046 Interestingly boys are slightly more prone to bedwetting than girls, with boys making up 60% of bedwetting cases in the http://joannelovesscience.com/generic-viagra younger age groups. Some studies suggest that girls tend to develop bladder control before boys. I went through a stage of thinking Elfie ‘should’ be dry at night by this point. But after a couple of upsetting nights for her I thought: really? Does it matter? Bed wetting is a part of growing up – she would like to be dry at night because I know it’s not a situation she enjoys but it’s really not the end of the world. IMG_3036 For the time being we use DryNites®(and always have for their lovely character illustrations and their age-appropriateness). I want Elfie (and Hux!) to feel confident when they go to bed at night and howdoesthemovieend.com I think this really helps them. They feel slightly more grown up and it brings that little element of fun to our post-bath bedtime routine. We get our kicks where we can ;) The DryNites Confident Kids 24/7 campaign aims to provide parents with helpful tools and advice to boost their child’s confidence and overcome challenges such as bedwetting.

IMG_3047 What I’m trying to say is that you needn’t not worry if your children are still wetting the bed at this age. It’s so very normal (almost 600,000 children are affected by this every year) and I bet if you started a conversation with your friends about it they’d have more experiences and stories about it than you might think. 4690-DryNites-POME-Content If you’re worried do take a quick look at the DryNites® website where there’s stacks of information to help you navigate through this particular motherhood minefield. You’re not alone!

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Now You Are Three.

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It’s an odd thing, your baby’s birthdays. Elfie’s are one thing; as the eldest she’s the birthday trailblazer, demanding parties in village halls or Pizza Express and spending hours wondering if she’s going to dress up as Anna or Elsa.

Hux is different. He still doesn’t ‘get’ birthdays so mama makes the decisions (as well as the cakes). Feeling slightly bittersweet this year as I scrolled through pictures of him as a wrinkly newborn, I savoured every last moment of planning my little baby boy’s (“I NOT A BABY, MUMMY, I A BIG BOY”) special day.

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Last year was a slightly chilly garden picnic, this year we went for a dinosaur-themed day of fun with stacks of pressies, playtime outside, a trip to the trampoline park and a small family meal. Despite me feeling ruined now after a weekend of birthday-related activities, we had a blast 

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So, Hux. Now you are three.

You are very different to your sister. She’s Miss Independent, Miss ‘I don’t need your help mummy’. You like me to carry you down the stairs, to give you a hand lugging your favourite toys round Waitrose or IKEA (it’s a good thing Buzz Lightyear likes the inside of my handbag) and to give you a cuddle at the end of every day.

You really love your mum and only for you the amount of smackers (that’s kisses, not punches ;) you give on the regular makes me happy. These big, sloppy, often snotty kisses that you plant on me – if I go for the lips you stick your hands on my ears, twist my head round and shower my cheek with them. They’re sticky but lovely. Never stop. Your affection and ‘I love yooooo’s are just the highlights of my days.

11267612_847722575319817_775364792_n 11282823_827968037272772_196288906_nYou love not only your mum but your sister fiercely. You two share a room which I think is so good for you both; it’s turned you into best friends and co-conspirators, giggling into the online us levitra night as your mum sits downstairs and pretends to be cross. You argue like cats and dogs (or brother and sister…) but always make up with a kiss and only best offers a cuddle and a ‘love you, Elfie’.

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You have your favourite toys and it’s generally the biggest, loudest, most plastic flashing piece of licensed tat you can find. Awesome. You take your toy of the day everywhere with you and I’m forever turning up glow-in-the-dark balls, Spiderman figurines and Woody dolls in my car. Today I drove to work to the soundtrack of a talking helicopter in the back seat; I couldn’t hear the news but I wouldn’t have it any other way (and when I say news I obviously mean Taylor Swift on Radio 1). You have the most vivid imagination though, and it’s a pleasure to watch you make-believe. Today you pretended for half an hour that you had a cat living on your shoulder called tiger and kept making me kiss it. I obviously obliged over and over again.

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You used to have this trick of sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night, sometimes so stealthily that it wouldn’t wake me up until 6am when it was time to get up for school. But, probably sensibly, I decided you should probably spend more nights sleeping in your own bed and http://opencredo.com/best-quality-cialis now that is what you do. Cos if I ever get a boyfriend it might be awkward when you’re 15 and still spending your nights snuggled up to your favourite woman.

I miss you every night, though!

IMG_2258 IMG_2261One thing we argue about is food. You have your favourite foods (pasta, peas, cucumber, sausages, CAKE!) but you’re really not fussed about eating anything else. Which obviously isn’t entirely helpful on the days I spend hours slaving over a roast dinner, only to have you pick at a pea before asking for milk. I try not to let it worry me – you’ll eat when you’re hungry and I don’t want to stress you out over food – but goddamn it’s annoying. We had a breakthrough last week when you ate a lasagne so that’s what I’ll be cooking for the forseeable future.

We have a lovely time, you and me and Elfie. I hope you are always as happy as you appear.

Happy third birthday, darling buddy.

PS: Hux turns one / Hux turns two

 

When Did We Start Hating Our Children?

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In the last few weeks I’ve noticed a trend in the world of parent blogging.

Namecalling.

Not between bloggers, but bloggers calling their children names. An arsehole, a wanker, a shit. We have a new wave of parent blogs ‘keeping it real’ by being, in my opinion, kind of awful. Is it for the LOLs, is it for the page views or the controversy? I don’t know but I don’t like it.

I agree as much as the next truthful person that when it comes to blogging it’s important to tell a complete story. One of the biggest surprises to me shortly after giving birth was that motherhood wasn’t that rainbow-laced dream we’re sold by Hollywood. It took me literally months to get over the fact that, holy crap, this is hard. HARD. The hardest thing I’ve ever done and will ever do, for sure.

Which is why I’ve always thought it important to write about the parts of parenting I found a struggle; having a baby with a genetic disease, the repetitive punch in the face that is PND, splitting from my husband with a tiny baby and nirvanaspa.co.uk toddler, the sleep deprivation that never ends, how I felt I didn’t bond with my baby. This is life, this is motherhood, this ain’t easy.

But it’s also the best thing I’ve ever done. Nothing can ever describe how being a parent changes your life; it’s a core-shaker, an internal earthquake that leaves you empty of everything (including money, sorry to say). It also leaves you fuller than you’ve been before, overflowing with love and joy and everything that’s good in the world, and this really is the bit that Hollywood gets right.

I want the http://turtlefiji.com/online-cialis-uk people who read my blog to know about ALL these parts of motherhood.

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I have a theory about the things we talk and buy canada in cialis write about in life. This theory has helped me recover from the awfulness that was simultaneous PND and divorce (YAY! it was a laugh a minute at my house for a couple of months there).

It’s a fake it until you make it kind of theory and goes a little bit like this; if you spend your days chomping on about how hard life is, how difficult it is to be a parent, how godawful your children are, then that’s the way your life will be. If you get to the end of the day and say, by god, that was a challenge. But I got through it with my two beautiful children, then boom! Appreciation and happiness central.

Negativity breeds negativity, versus she believed she could but she did. I believe I can, so I do, and I think only (OK, mostly) happy thoughts to be a happy person.

Every day I count my blessings and look at how many good things the universe has given me. My family has its struggles but we are so lucky; I’ve never lost a child like far too many women I know, I have the want and ability to work and support my family (which means in turn I can buy fun stuff like rugs and look there cushions for our lovely house), we are healthy (ish) and have so much love to give each other. My children are in no way perfect – Hux’s current favourite hobbies are pushing people and eating food off the floor – but he’s a toddler. I’m nearly 30 and I’m not perfect, either.

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I would die before I called my child a name. I am so aware that everything I write about them lives on the internet forever and I would never want them to read about how often mummy moaned I had shitty pants or that I cried all day at the park so was a little wanker. For my kids to believe I was thinking that about them would be heartbreaking.

I think thoughts I’m not proud of sometimes as I’m sure most or all mums do, but it’s these times I hide in the kitchen with a packet of hobnobs or a glass of wine and pull myself together to be the parent I want to be once again.

My children aren’t wankers or shits, they are 2 and 4 and behave in that way because they are looking for boundaries, love and guidance. I refuse to roll my eyes at my tantruming son who has been on the planet only 1000 days but will instead give him what he needs: to be made to feel loved and cherished. After a short spell on the naughty step, natch.

Who’s with me in the fight for realism vs sensationalism when it comes to parent blogging? Let’s keep it real but also remember how bloody lucky we are.

The days are long but the years are short. I’m off to give my two beautiful troublemakers a huge squeeze.

 

Toddlers Today – What Does It Mean To Be A Toddler?

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I always think it must be pretty cool to be a toddler in 2015.

Just think about it – you get to spend your weeks playing with your friends, being entertained by various singing and dancing adults, getting taken to really cool places like working farms and swimming pools and you don’t have to worry about Council Tax or how many miles to the gallon your car is doing.

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Which is probably why, at the age of two, Hux is one of the happiest people I know. He’s never once mentioned carbon emissions to me and his favourite object in the whole world is a tambourine.

SMA® Nutrition are as interested in the changing lives of toddlers as I am and so they commissioned research of 1,000 mums of toddlers (aged 1-3 years) across the British Isles. From travel, tech, food and exercise they wanted to see just how our nation’s toddlers are living.

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Their research found that 90% of mums eat out with their toddler at least once a month – with 26% eating out with them once a week (this is me!). 64% feed their toddler sweet potato, 35% couscous or quinoa and 28% avocado – we eat all these things in our house but let me tell you I would not recommend homemade gluten free gnocchi…

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The research also discovered that today’s society is more technologically advanced than it was twenty years ago which is seen in toddlers; nearly half surveyed are given iPads, tablets or mobile phones to play with and the same number being able to unlock these devices on their own.

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To complement their research SMA® Nutrition have asked me to keep a diary of what Hux gets up to in a typical week – where we go, how we play, what we eat, what we see. With our lives being so busy sometimes I’m excited to take part; the project’s really making me think about the choices of activities and food we make on a day-to-day basis.

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Come back in a few days to see what a week in the life of Hux is like!

Thank-you SMA for working with MTT :) 

Counting My Motherhood Blessings

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I feel so very lucky to be a mother. It might not have happened in the ‘right’ way (at 24 I felt like a teenage mother) and I perhaps haven’t ended up in the ‘perfect’ family situation, however these two little people are my absolute world.

But I find that it’s so easy to get lost in the motherhood fug and forget how fortunate I am to be a parent. You know how it goes – you get up mega early with a toddler bogey or wet finger in your ear and you’re immediately wiping morning bums and sorting out pyjamas. Then it’s time to field breakfast requests; mine always want croissants or home baked bread with honey, they usually get slung dry Shreddies and rx online levitra a banana or porridge. After that it’s the serious discussion over why spaghetti strap dresses are inappropriate for winter, a debate on socks and – if you’re lucky – a 2 minute shower for you to a soundrack of “why don’t you have a willy, mummy?”.

Then you take off on the school run grasping for book bags/water bottles/PE kits, dropping your kids off at whichever location they’re supposed to be at (or not, as I’m constantly getting Nursery/Pre-school days muddled) before you can sit down at your desk, get to the gym or start the joannelovesscience.com supermarket shop. The days are chock-full with work, meetings, domestic bits and bobs, finger painting, working again, negotiating (the UN has nothing on me).

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It baffles me how full I used to think my days were. This is what it’s like to have full days. Juggling two children, a job and Easter holidays has taught me what it’s like to be busy. It Does. Not. Stop.

EVER.

Until.

Until your children go away for six days with their dad – that’s when it stops, like, completely stops. And I didn’t like it.

This was the first time I was spending such a large amount of time without them at home so I made plenty of plans for when they were away. I wanted to see three special friends and vowed to empty my inbox. I was re-igniting my green diet, remembering how good it feels to go to the gym, socialising, shopping, enjoying life.

In reality I drank a bit too much wine, spent a long time catching up on sleep (no such thing as too long, NO SUCH THING), online shopped for bras that now all need to be returned because they’re the wrong size, watched almost an entire boxset (GIRLS!) and caught up on The Good Wife, woke up one morning spooning a greasy Dominos box, you know, the standard.

Day one and two were great – I needed to stop after the not sleeping and full-on whirlwind that was Jan/Feb/March. But then it just started feeling very quiet, very quiet and very strange.

Living alone is by and large for me a success. I enjoy my independence, my freedom, my taste in decorating. Having lived with a man for 8 years I really enjoy my own space and the fact I don’t have to deal with anyone else’s toenail clippings. I like being in charge of the remote, the fridge and everything I do. But this week, for the first time, actually felt lonely. I can’t remember the last time I had the space to feel lonely. It was sad.

I missed the children ever so much. I missed their wit, their cuddles, their intelligence, their giggles, their smell, their chitter chatter, their singing. I even missed them crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night. My empty arms ached for my children to dive back into them – I felt empty and rudderless. Without them I had nothing, just bumping around from work to gym to home.

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Their homecoming was the most special thing ever. I can’t describe the soft tab cialis absolute joy you feel upon seeing your children’s faces for the first time in six days. Pure and utter joy.

They’re less than ecstatic at the reunion, obvs because they’re cooler than you and are more concerned about how Buzz Lightyear has fared in their absence, but post-reunion there’s definitely been an increase in cuddles for us all. Hux told me “it’s lovely to have you back, mummy” and Elfie said “I love you even more than the planets”. BEAMING.

I’ll remember this feeling of appreciation for my children forever. The next time there’s a meltdown in IKEA, a 6 night run of no sleep, a bout of chicken pox (holla to ma chicken pox people! We’re suffering over here), a squabble over a Peppa Pig mobile phone… I’ll remember this.

I am so lucky to be a mum.

 

What A Single Mum Does Without Her Kids

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Whenever anyone talks to me about my single parenting and then says to me “I don’t know how you do it” I feel a little bit satisfied. I kind of plump my feathers a bit and explain that I do it because I have to and think: “finally! Someone’s noticed all my hard work and thinks I’m amazing!” But it’s actually not really that simple.

I’ll tell you exactly how I do it; I do it because every fortnight the children go off to their dad’s house and joannelovesscience.com I get two days and two nights all to myself – time that I can do whatever I want with. In all the parenting I did pre-divorce I never would have had this time to myself, precious time to rest, recuperate and do whatever takes my fancy, ALONE. I do it because as hard as it gets being the sole parent in the day-to-day of my children’s lives I have that precious time to take a step back, miss them terribly and realise why it is I work so hard for our little family.

In truth I usually spend my time catching up on sleep or work I’ve missed when I was sleep deprived but the option is there: FREE TIME! I can go to Paris! I can drive around ALONE after dark! I can go for a swim without my companion pooing in the baby pool! The world is my oyster.

As a sidenote I have to say that I have every respect for those I think are the ‘real’ single parents of this world. The mums and dads who don’t have their children’s counterpart parent involved in their lives, those who do it alone 24/7, 365 days a year. Those are the people you need to look up and say: “I don’t know how you do it”. Compared to those amazing people I am Single Mother Lite.

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Yesterday the children went off in the car to their dad’s house for six days. SIX DAYS. I cried first, then ate half a box of After Eights, felt weird and wondered what to do. Then I took a two hour nap because sleep, sweet sleep, and now I have five more days without my little buddies to fill. I predict I’ll get bored of napping by tomorrow – nobody can sleep that much.

Just kidding, I can totally sleep that much. But I probably shouldn’t.

It’s an odd one, having your children go away for such a long time. If it wasn’t for the sleep thing I wouldn’t want them to go, I really wouldn’t. I know it’s good for my sanity to have a break and do some things just for me and of course is great for them to spend the where can i buy real levitra time with their dad but it still doesn’t feel nice. It feels like when you go on a long trip for the weekend – a few hours away so you can’t return home easily – with that weird feeling that you might have forgotten something. And then when you get there you realise you’ve missed something crucial, leaving your phone charger or toothbrush at home. That’s how I feel – completely normal, but like there’s something essential missing.

I always have BIG PLANS with my time off (I don’t). I find pleasure in the tiniest things: in our day-to-day the children go to bed at 7pm so I don’t like leaving the house after 5.30pm because this upsets our bed/book/bath routine. So one of my favourite things to go out at GASP 7pm to buy Fish and click here Chips (the one takeaway food that I wish did deliveries), or nip to the supermarket to pick something up before they close at 10pm. There’s just something super liberating about driving around after dark when you’re normally tied to your home from a particular time. STOP THE PRESS THESE ACTIVITIES ARE WILD.

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I also like to go to the gym at different times, like 8am when I’m normally scrabbling for P.E. kits and book bags. And when I go swimming I go at the grown up only times. Liberating.

I did go through a period of time when I thought it was a good idea to go on dates when the kids were away, squeeze in as many as possible. But I’m kind of at that stage now when I’d rather spend time with my friends or those deep fried fish and chips rather than making polite conversation with a man.

Unless you’re Jamie Dornan, then I will always have time for polite conversation with you.

So off I go today – the world at my feet. I’ve started with a morning of work which will be followed by a gym trip, a bikini wax and then the afternoon, evening, morning and boozy lunch with one of my favourite ladies in the whole world. Then a Friday evening with another wonderful woman and a Saturday morning of – ooh I don’t know – maybe buying the papers and taking them back to bed. I might push the boat out and the best choice go into London on Sunday but then again I might just enjoy the silence… because of course there’s the important matter of fitting in all 4 seasons of Girls somewhere.

Whatever it is I do though I bloody miss those kids. Hurry back to me, babies. Sleepless nights included…