The Mum Reviews

My breastfeeding struggle – for those who are struggling too

Apparently, in the USA, August is National Breastfeeding Month. I’ve read some really interesting posts about feeding and I thought I would share my own story along with a few thoughts I have that might help someone just starting out on their baby feeding journey and who is perhaps finding it difficult.

When I was pregnant with my first baby, I was a bit complacent about breastfeeding. I’d read all the literature saying that “breast is best” and that it’s easier than formula feeding, and it was never really a decision for me. I just planned to breastfeed and assumed it was as simple as that.

But then real life sent me for a loop. At 10 days overdue, there was evidence of meconium in my waters, and so they induced labour. I laboured for 20 hours but ended up with an emergency caesarean. At first, I was put on the ward with my new baby, and I couldn’t get him to latch despite lots of help from the nurses there. Then, suddenly, they whisked him away to special care. It turns out he had pneumonia, probably from breathing in some of the meconium-stained waters. So he ended up in a different ward from me, in a plastic box with extra oxygen and antibiotics.

I was then encouraged to pump some milk to be fed to my son through a feeding tube put in his nostril. However, milk doesn’t come in as quickly after a caesarean, and the breast pump did nothing. One of the nurses suggested that we try hand expressing colostrum into a syringe. At 3am she helped me painfully and painstakingly squeeze my nipple (that’s right, another woman was squeezing my nipple – no dignity for new mums) until a tiny bit of “yellow gold” leaked out into the syringe. I was then expected to do my post-caesarean shuffle all the way to the other ward to deliver the infection-fighting stuff to my little one. I did this every couple of hours for 3 nights that seemed like an eternity.

Later, when he was well enough to be moved into a room with me, I spent countless hours trying to get him to latch without success. He failed to gain any weight, and they suggested top-up feeds in order to get some food into him. They also suggested I try nipple shields, to make my rather flat nipples stick out more so that baby couldn’t get some purchase on them. The combination of these two tools were the magic bullet for us – he gained weight, got better, and we were able to go home. At home, we carried on with breastfeeding using nipple shields and kept up the formula top-ups. My health visitor told me that our breastfeeding was doomed because my breasts wouldn’t get enough stimulation using the shields and the top-ups would affect my supply.

But she was wrong! At 3 months old, my son figured out how to nurse without the nipple shields. We then carried on with the mixed feeding and ended up breastfeeding until he was 18 months old, albeit not exclusively.

Because of this ultimate success in building a breastfeeding relationship with my first son, I was overconfident again when it came to my second. When I brought him home from hospital, he was too sleepy to feed. I initiated formula top-ups, but then the midwife that came to visit me told me that if I used top-ups I would never be able to establish breastfeeding with him. She recommended I stick with exclusive breastfeeding and, unfortunately, I listened to her. By the time another midwife came to visit a couple of days later, my son had lost weight and was becoming dangerously dehydrated. We ended up back in special care with my son in a plastic box and me chained to a breast pump, just like with my first!

We were sent home after a few days doing top-up feeds, but I was finding his latch so painful that I was sobbing every time we tried to breastfeed. I was so disappointed in myself for not being able to do it after I’d ultimately managed it with my first. I decided to move to exclusive bottle-feeding, to use mostly formula and to keep expressing breastmilk until my supply ran out (as I was assured by many it soon would). However, somehow the act of taking the pressure off myself changed things, and when I decided to try breastfeeding again a few days later, he latched. And we were away. Our breastfeeding relationship lasted until he was 16 months.

So as you can see, it was a struggle for me, and I really feel for every single mum out there trying to feed her baby. No matter what you do, it feels like someone else thinks you’re doing it wrong. So here are a few tips for new mums trying to feed their babies, gleaned from my personal experience. They might not resonate with everyone, but if they help even one mum not feel overwhelmed with guilt for her feeding situation, it has been worth sharing:

While there is scientific evidence to say that breastmilk is best for babies, the best thing for babies is to be fed! Get food into your baby any way you can. Breastfeeding, expressing & bottle feeding, using nipple shields, formula feeding, whatever. It’s your body and your baby and don’t let anyone guilt you.

Many lactation counsellors, midwives, nurses and health visitors will give you great advice, but some might not. Their advice is not the end all and be all. Go with your gut. If you don’t agree with some advice you receive, don’t follow it blindly (like I did with my second son).

There is a lot of advice out there that says that things like nipple shields, exclusively expressing & bottle feeding, and top-up feeds mean that your breastmilk supply will drop and you will ultimately have to stop. I’m living proof that this isn’t necessarily true! If any of these tools help you carry on breastfeeding, even if it’s only once a day from just one boob, then that is just fantastic.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help. I’ve had some wonderful advice from NCT lactation consultants, and there are loads of breastfeeding support groups out there where you can meet mums going through similar things. Ask your local children’s centre or health visitor for details. Sometimes a sympathetic ear can be the thing that keeps you going.

Let go of the mum guilt. Us mums are guilt machines. But you are doing your best. I know because you’re here on the internet looking for help.

Formula has everything your baby needs. If ultimately you are unable to establish breastfeeding, or for whatever reason you stop sooner than you had hoped to, your baby is going to be just fine. You haven’t “failed”. You have been on your own unique feeding journey and moved on from breastfeeding at the time that was right for you. If you encounter any haters, tune them out

Finally, one last thing I wish someone had prepared me for: breastfeeding can be as difficult to stop as it is to start. If, like me, you end up breastfeeding for quite a while, ending breastfeeding starts to feel like a huge step. What if baby won’t sleep anymore without nursing first? When is the right time to stop? Just the act of reducing breastfeeds can send your hormones haywire. I was incredibly emotional both times I stopped, crying constantly for no apparent reason. Don’t be afraid to go back to a lactation consultant at this time to get support as you wind down the feeding.

So there’s my little contribution. I hope someone might find it useful. Remember, they’re your boobs, it’s your baby, and you’re the boss!

I would love to hear your feeding stories in the comments. What was best and worst? What helped you?

Don’t pretend to be a duck: Lessons from a lovely day at Hever Castle

I think we’ve already established that I’m not the outdoorsy type. It’s not that I don’t like going outside, it’s just that I’m lazy and everything is easier indoors.

I am the sort of parent who believes in toddler gates. Lots of them. And playpens too. Anything that keeps my little ones in an enclosed area in which I can watch them without having to move (or spilling my drink). I therefore get just a little bit stressed about taking my kids to wide open spaces where I have to chase them around and apply jackets, or sunscreen, or hats (that will be immediately tossed away and lost) or perhaps a change of clothes because they’ve fallen into a moat or something.

So I thought I would share with you some lessons I learnt on a recent trip to Hever Castle, which might help anyone who’s planning a trip there to have a stress-free time – or at least give you a chance to laugh at me.

1. Plan your journey

As usual I just assumed my sat nav would get me to the Castle’s car park and did no further research despite having an excellent internet connection in my house. I’m pretty sure my sat nav is out to kill me. Every time I saw a lovely brown sign pointing the way to the Castle, my sat nav entreated me to go in the opposite direction. Luckily, I ignored it and managed to not end up crashing into a field of sheep. However, apparently Hever has more than one car park. I had planned on meeting my friend ‘in the car park’, and we ended up on opposite ends of the property. No big tragedy, but could have been avoided if I was paying attention.

2. The Tower Maze is awesome but watch the exits

Our first point of call was the adventure playground, containing standard playground equipment along with a truly awesome giant wooden multi-level maze with slides coming down out of it. Having entered at the top of the playground, my friend and I blithely assumed that there were no further exits to the playground area and that we could send our older children to run free on the Tower Maze without them disappearing into the unknown.

But then we didn’t see or hear them for a while. So I walked round to the back of the maze and [camera pans to my face with a look of horror] there was another exit out of the playground. Going right out to who-knows-where. Cue me walking frantically around the maze looking for the children, calling their names in my ‘definitely not panicking’ voice. Thankfully, I found them hiding in a hidey hole in the maze having a whale of a time and not the least bit lost.

3. They have really nice toilets

Like, really nice. With those Dyson hand dryers that you stick your hands into instead of under and that actually dry your hands. Whenever toilets have their own dedicated outbuildings, I don’t expect them to be nice. But they were. With proper baby changers and everything. And it’s a good thing too. Because we went to ALL the different toilets while we were there. At least 5 times. I’m not convinced that my son even used the toilets each of those times. Maybe he was just admiring the hand dryers.

4. Don’t pretend to be a duck

Hever is a beautiful place to have a picnic. We set up under the shade of a big old tree on a slope of well-groomed grass that looked out towards the castle. For 10–15 glorious minutes, all of the children sat on the actual picnic mat and ate their picnics. This is something that has never happened to me before. Usually they are just running about while I chase them with a sandwich.

ducks at hever castle — You can see the ducks here, trying to sneak up on an innocent child, looking shifty.

And what was it that broke the spell? It was me, pretending to be a duck. There were lots of ducks around, and a couple of them were getting a bit close and looking a bit shifty like they wanted to make off with some of our carbohydrate-rich food.

I shouted at them to go away. They ignored me. I threw a small stick in their direction, hoping to scare them off. They tried to eat the stick.

Finally, I got up off the picnic mat and chased them away, waving my arms in the air while yelling, ‘Quack, quack, quack’, as if somehow speaking their language would finally get through to them and make them realise they were on my turf.

The good news is, my strategy worked. The ducks flew away and didn’t return. However, our children thought that my duck impersonation was the funniest thing since a Minion first said ‘banana’. Their peaceful sitting-and-eating turned into them running away across the field while shouting QUACK at each other. As there were no toddler gates, I got stressed that one of them would fall into the moat.

5. Bring a change of clothes or a swim kit.

Hever Castle gardens — My attempt at an artsy photo of the gardens.

Hever Castle has this awesome thing called a Water Maze. It is a series of stepping stones leading into a central tower and back out again. If you try to go the wrong way, great jets of water fly out of the ground. I’m pretty sure the idea is that if the water sprays, you realise it’s a dead end in the maze and try going a different direction. But try telling that to a 4-year-old who would rather just stand in the spray of water for as long as possible. This would indeed be jolly good fun for all if you had brought swimming costumes and towels, or at least a change of clothes. Do you think we had brought these things? If you do, you haven’t been paying attention.

The verdict

Hever Castle is absolutely beautiful. I haven’t even mentioned the actual castle bit yet.

That is because they do a really great deal where you can pay for just the gardens and not the castle. We didn’t think we’d be able to enjoy the castle bit with the kids so saved ourselves the money. But I did go inside the castle once pre-kids and remember it being very interesting indeed.

I don’t think one could get tired of walking through the gardens, and I know they put on a lot of different activities for children and adults throughout the year. When my kids are older, I look forward to renting a pedalo or rowing boat on the lake.

All-in-all, it’s a lovely place for the kids to play, for the adults to enjoy the scenery, to buy an ice cream … and to visit the toilet.

The Lake at Hever Castle — This is a pretty fountain by the lake.

Reasons my mum is crying

I’m sure pretty much everyone knows and loves the famous blog, ‘Reasons my son is crying‘. It pokes fun of the very many things a typical young child might have a bit of a tantrum over. An example from my own 4-year-old today:

4yo (observing as I begin to apply sunscreen to his 1yo brother): The sunscreen says “kids” on it.

Me: That’s right. Good reading.

4yo: But my brother’s a toddler. Not a kid.

Me (continuing with sunscreen application): Not all kids are toddlers. But all toddlers are kids.

4yo (high-pitched; distressed): NOOOOOOO! My brother needs TODDLER SUNSCREEN! I’m the kid. The kids sunscreen is only for meeeeee!

So, yeah, that happens. And it’s pretty funny when viewed in hindsight. But what about when you’re right there in the moment? Sometimes, don’t you just feel like lying down on the floor, going stiff as a board and refusing to move, a la toddler? Or just having a good old cry? Well, I do. And it got me thinking of what my sons must think of me, when I’ve lost it and cried in front of them. Some examples from my own experiences:

Newborn baby be all like:

My mum keeps shoving her boobs in my face. They are all hard and huge. And she is DOING IT WRONG. I am not having any of that milk until she ups her game a bit.

Wait? Now she’s crying? WTF, I’m the one who’s starving here!

Six month old be all like:

Mum has been IGNORING me all day. She keeps going into the kitchen and turning on some machine that’s really noisy. Now, she puts me in this highchair and starts waving a spoon full of orange mush at me. I don’t think so! I’m going to wave my hands wildly and knock the spoon of mush down her shirt.

She’s crying again. She tried to poison me and SHE’S the one who’s crying!

Nine month old be all like:

I’m tired of this sleeping at nighttime stuff. It is so last month. I’m going to just rest for short 45 minute intervals and then wake up and scream for mum. She loves giving me cuddles in the middle of the night.

3 hours later…

I just had to scream for TEN WHOLE MINUTES before Mum came to cuddle me this time. She’s biting her lower lip and begging me to go to sleep, tears streaming down her face. I don’t know what her problem is. I thought we were having fun, seeing each other all night.

18-month-old be all like:

I’m finished eating and no longer require this plate in front of me, still half-full of food. I shall toss it across the room in the manner of a medieval king.

Hey, why is mum shouting just because there are some baked beans in her hair? I put baked beans in my hair all the time!

2-year-old be all like:

These playgroups are kind of cool. Hey, wait a minute! Some kid is trying to play with the same plastic kitchen as me! I’m going to hit him repeatedly with this small metal pan until he goes away. What? Now mum is trying to drag me away from this usurper. I will go stiff as a board so she can’t move me until I’m ready to go. Uh oh, woman is tearing up again. Maybe if I scream a little louder in this public place she will learn to respect my boundaries.

4-year-old be all like:

It’s getting late and I’m actually quite tired. I’m going to give Mummy a big cuddle and tell her that I love her before I go to sleep. Wait…is she crying again?

Is it just me or have you experienced these sorts of moments? What are the reasons your kids’ mum is crying?

You too can (at least try to) be Sherlock Holmes!

You are a new recruit to Scotland Yard. As you stand on the streets of Victorian London, mist floating round your ankles, a police inspector begins issuing orders. There’s been a murder. Inspector Lestrade wants you to show Sherlock Holmes what Scotland Yard is really made of and solve the mystery first.

You grab your notebook and your list of suspects and you begin exploring the scene of the crime. You see a suspect standing nearby and head over to interview her, your mind racing as you try to figure out how to get her to talk.

And so, The Game’s Afoot.

This is the production currently taking place at Madame Tussaud’s, performed by the Les Enfants Terribles Theatre Company. During this play, the audience doesn’t sit on plush seats behind “the fourth wall”. You are part of the action, and the experience you have is determined by you.

The show takes place in an intricately designed set, where you can wander through the streets of Holmesian London, visit Scotland Yard, interview the Coroner as she dissects the victim’s body, or wander down the docks to interview a suspect. And that is only a small example of the many areas you can explore.

Your job is to collect clues and try to solve the murder. You are expected to interview suspects, read reports, and look for evidence everywhere.

Now I’ve enjoyed immersive theatre before, for example Punchdrunk performances where you wander through huge warehouses, exploring the set and encountering the actors in non-linear ways as they perform their scenes, resulting in a highly individual experience. However, The Game’s Afoot takes this concept a step further, by forcing you to basically become one of the actors.

Now I would not describe myself as shy but I’m also not the most outgoing person in the world. So I have to say it took me a while to get into my stride when trying to interview the suspects. You have to be clever to get them to reveal anything. You have to pretend it’s real and talk to them in a way that tricks or flatters them into revealing details. The actors’ performances are flawless, not missing a beat no matter what sort of question you hurl at them.

This is a great night out if you want to challenge yourself, and you’re sure to have loads to discuss with your companions afterwards. I only wish that they gave you just a little longer to enjoy the realistic atmosphere and amazing sets. I’d just started to really get into my detective character by the time it was all over.

There are two stories on offer, “The Case of the Poisonous Poet” and “The Case of the Bloodthirsty Beast”. I attended the latter, and am very tempted indeed to buy tickets to the other one now that I’ve boned up on my sleuthing skills.

Perfect burgers in Surrey

Having grown-up in America, I think I have at least a little right to a strong opinion on the subject of burgers. I’m sure there are many delicious burgers to be had in the UK, but unfortunately I have encountered very few of them. For me, burgers in this country are usually overcooked and dry, with not enough toppings or condiments.

So imagine my delight when I found Brisk Burgers, a newly-opened burger bar in Oxted, Surrey. This place really ticks all of the boxes for me.

The menu

The menu is relatively simple but has a nice variety of burgers for different tastes. I chose the “All-American” (as this was the true test for me), but “The Gurkha”, a lamb burger with curry seasoning and a yoghurt dressing, sounded delicious.

Husband chose “The Bandit” (pictured above), which had chilli sauce and roasted red peppers in addition to the usual bacon cheeseburger toppings.

There were a range of different chips you could order with your burger: standard chips, thinner “fries”, skinny fries, courgette fries and sweet potato chips. Other standard sides, such as coleslaw, were also on offer.

The drinks menu was large and comprehensive. I was particularly impressed that they offered local real ale, imported American beers and milkshakes.

There was a children’s menu as well, with a beef burger, chicken burger and bean burger as the main options. We were there without the kids around 7:30pm on a Saturday, but it was nice to see lots of kids there and know that ours would be welcome at that time on a future visit.

The food

My burger was a beautiful thing. It was slightly pink in the middle which rendered the meat soft and juicy. The tomato and onion were fresh, the streaky bacon nice and crispy. My favourite thing was the pickles served in a mustard dressing. I love pickles generally but these were quite special – not too sweet, not too vinegary. And there were a variety of condiments provided, including the must-have mustard for American burgers, French’s.

Husband was equally impressed with his burger, despite being far pickier than I am. He said the red peppers were sweet and just the right consistency (not slimy as roasted veg can sometimes be), and the chilli offered just the right kick for his chilli-loving self.

We had skinny fries (pretty good) and courgette fries (amazing). It was the first time I’d had courgette fries and they were delicious. Little squares of soft courgette coated in a tempura-style batter and delicately seasoned. And I’m pretty sure they were one of my five-a-day.

The atmosphere

The restaurant had a carefully studied hipster vibe that would have been at home in Shoreditch. There were funny drawings of moustachioed hipsters wearing burgers as hats on the wall. And despite it being quite a narrow space, the bare brickwork and light-coloured furniture made it feel bright and airy.

The only feedback I have is that they should consider adding some hooks under the bar for hanging personal belongings. We waited there for our table and I couldn’t figure out where to rest my handbag.

The service

Very friendly, professional and happy to accommodate special requests. It was a little bit slow at times, but it was very busy and the place has only just opened, so I expect they will tighten things up as time goes on.

The price

This really surprised us. We had 2 burgers, 2 sides and 4 alcoholic drinks, and were expecting to pay over £50, but the final bill came to under £40.

The verdict

Unique, outstanding and definitely worth a visit.

The best & worst of being a new blogger

It’s been just over a week since I started this blog, and it’s starting to get real.

I am a bit of a faddy sort of person, or maybe even a bit of a “quitter”. I get excited about things and pursue them avidly for a while, and then if they get hard or boring I quickly move on. When I started this blog, I promised myself I would stick with it for a change. I even paid for a domain name so that the financial outlay might guilt me into sticking with it.

But today I’m starting to realise how difficult this blogging malarkey can be. So to keep myself on target, I decided to write a little list of the best and worst things about blogging so far.

The best

Catharsis

After going through the process of writing a post, I just feel better. I’ve taken all this stuff bouncing around inside my head and put it somewhere else. Almost every night, my toddler wakes me at 4am for a drink and a cuddle, and then I find it difficult to get back to sleep because I start thinking about stuff. Now that I’m blogging, I’ve emptied my head before bed, and I sleep better.

Achievement

There is a lot to be said for that feeling when you publish a post that you’re happy with. And even more to be said for that feeling when you find that someone actually reads it, or comments positively on it, or even shares it. That feeling could become a little bit addictive.

Connection and community

Before I started I had no idea what a big deal blogging was. I didn’t know it was a thing with groups and awards and a million articles for advice and strategy. There are so many other bloggers out there who are so interesting and supportive, and I’ve really enjoyed connecting with some of these people and starting to join the community.

The worst

Losing confidence

What if my writing is actually rubbish? What if nobody reads my blog? What if someone actually tells me that it’s rubbish? I’ve had a lot of self-doubt, and when things don’t go quite the way I expect, it gets worse. So I’m trying to remember that, although it would be lovely if people read my blog, that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m doing it for me – for enjoyment, for self-improvement, for the sake of doing something challenging. It’s not perfect but it’s mine.

Offending someone

I work in publishing so I’m used to assessing whether content is going to be controversial or offend a particular group of readers. But blogging is a bit more personal. What if I offend someone close to me with something I write? I would never write something intentionally hurtful, and I do try to be considerate, but sometimes people see things from a different perspective from me. This is a tough one. I hope that anyone who thinks I write something offensive will go ahead and call me out. Opening the lines of communication means that we have a chance to resolve misunderstandings. And if I mess up I will try to make amends.

Content!

I obviously can’t write a blog if I have nothing to write about. I’m still coasting on the wave of my blog being new, so I have lots of ideas for content. But I worry about running out of ideas and how I’m going to cope with that. I also worry about whether the content I do have is actually worth having. But I’m trying to remind myself that this blog is always going to be a work in progress. It’s not a finished product but an evolving thing that will grow and change and take me on a journey.

The verdict

I took my son to see “Finding Dory” this week and keep hearing her little song in my head: “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming!” It seems to me that blogging is about perseverance. So whenever I lose my confidence or get a little bit scared, I’m going to “just keep blogging”.

What are the best and worst bits of blogging for you? How do you motivate yourself to keep on blogging?

The Blacksmith’s Arms, Isle of Wight

It is so easy to find disappointing pubs on holiday. Usually, the food is bad. Often, the beer is bad too. Pubs on holiday too often are visited by merit of their location or simply because the kids are starving and/or they need the toilet. “Are we going to the pub, mummy? Look, mummy, there’s a pub! STOP MUMMY STOP! There’s a pub RIGHT THERE!”

However, The Blacksmith’s Arms surprised us. We followed a half-broken sign near our holiday park. The second half of the pub’s name was gone, so we only knew we were going to the Black-something. We followed the sign because it said “fresh local seafood”, but we weren’t holding out much hope.

When we arrived, it was a little worrying that nobody seemed to be there, but it was only just 12pm, which is the absolute latest lunchtime our monkeys will stand for. We decided to go for it and found a table in the terraced garden, which had an absolutely breathtaking view over the Solent.

The view was not advertised on the broken sign. But I’m pretty sure I’ve never been to a pub with a better view. I’m also awarding extra marks for providing tables with sun umbrellas, as we are slightly vampirish in our ways and don’t like being in direct sunlight.

Inside the pub, we received a friendly welcome. There was a large specials board and an even larger menu, and a bit of local real ale on tap (and other more girly drinks as well, obvs). I ordered the local dressed crab with salad and new potatoes, Husband got salmon with a prawn sauce, and we ordered sausage & mash for both boys.

The kids ate more food than they’d eaten in days. You don’t get sausages like that in every random pub with a broken sign. Husband loved his salmon and my crab salad was quite good too. My only criticism was that the salad could have used more dressing. There were only a few splats of balsamic vinegar and full-on vinaigrette would have been much nicer. Also, the portions were huge. This can only be a good thing, but worth knowing if you’re planning to order starters or pudding.

After lunch we enjoyed the playground with the kids. It’s not flashy, but there’s enough there that both our children had tantrums upon being asked to leave. It had a basket swing, a normal swing, and a little wooden castle with a tunnel.

I also can’t sign off without mentioning the ladies toilets. They are clean and a very plush changing table resides within a carpeted sitting room containing leather sofas. It’s so nice to be able to change the baby in a public toilet without feeling like you need a shower afterwards.

The Verdict

5 out of 5 shells – best holiday pub ever

Garlic & chilli heaven on the Isle of Wight

That’s right. We devoted an entire day of our holiday to two of my very favourite ingredients. Both of my pregnancies had me fairly obsessed with garlic and chilli, to the point that I carried a bottle of Tabasco in my handbag and used half the bottle of garlic piri-piri sauce every time I went to Nandos (which was a lot).

So you can imagine my excitement to find that The Garlic Farm and House of Chilli were within a short drive of one another. We also accidentally discovered some other fun stuff at Holliers Park, where House of Chilli was based.

House of Chilli

This place is a shop, a tourist attraction and a way of life all rolled up into one. Their homepage says their aim is “not just to help the hardened chilliheads feel the burn, but to offer a range of products suited to all tastes”. The walls of the rather large shop were lined with chilli-based sauces beyond what you’ve ever imagined.

The main attraction of the shop is their extensive tasting table. The large table in the middle of the shop had about 20 different things to taste, including salad dressing, mayonnaise, pickles, chutneys and salsas. The mechanism for transferring condiment to mouth were some rather lovely tiny pieces of tortilla. I tried everything. My favourite was the Chip Shop Curry Sauce.

There was also a smaller table with an actual health warning on it. About 5 sauces that are not for chilli rookies, arranged in order of hotness. I managed two of the milder ones and was temporarily deprived of the ability to speak (a very rare occurrence). Husband tried the hottest one and he was stoned on chilli endorphins for the next half hour.

It was also a child-friendly shop with a great big chalkboard at the back where they could draw and a reading area with some children’s books. There was an ice cream machine as well, although that may have been more for those adults who go a little too far with the chilli samples.

Holliers Park

Husband was suffering some serious chilli intoxication after leaving the chilli shop, so we decided to have a nose round the other shops on the property while he sobered up.

First we popped into Island Artisan. I groaned on the way in, expecting it to contain a variety of generic tourist tat. Boy was I wrong. This was a real hub of unusual artisan goods with a number of artists in residence who you could watch in action.

One man had lost many abilities due to suffering a stroke but had found new purpose in doing pyrography. I was very tempted to buy his portrayal of the Lady of the Lake bestowing Excalibur upon King Arthur. I also really wanted to buy one of the steampunk hats. I’m sure those would have multiple uses, mostly involving alcohol consumption. But my house is really small and my two little monkeys are the reason why we can’t have nice things.

There was loads of other cool stuff there and, thoughtfully, they provided toys and colouring to keep the kids busy while the parents nose around.

All of that hankering after hats began to work up a thirst, and it was simply not an option to ignore the property’s Victory Tearooms. “It’s a double-decker bus cafe!” shouted Eldest in amazement. And right he was – it was a massive double-decker bus filled with wartime memorabilia. You order downstairs from two cheerful women in 1940s attire, and your order is delivered via dumbwaiter to the top deck of the bus.

The service was a little bit slow to us mainland Southerners, but then there seemed to be a general lack of rush across the whole island. We kept reminding each other that we should try to enjoy the island pace of life. And in any case, where else can you eat tea and cake whilst pretending to drive the bus? Cafes don’t get much more fun than this.

The Garlic Farm

And so, having tired of driving the bus, we proceeded to The Garlic Farm to have our lunch.

The restaurant has a nice atmosphere but a very small menu. I was a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a larger choice of garlic-related main courses on the menu. Many of the more unique garlicky dishes were part of overpriced sampler platters.

I had the roasted garlic starter, which involves spreading soft, massive garlic cloves on slices of bread. I’ve seen this executed much better. There was not enough bread and the butter was cold, so I couldn’t spread it. The garlic also wasn’t as flavourful as I was expecting. Perhaps it was not the correct breed of garlic.

I enjoyed my main more: a flatbread spread with pesto and piled with a collection of roasted vegetables. The pesto transformed the dish from dull vegetarian option to delicious and the sweet, succulent tomatoes upstaged the other vegetables. I did not eat the ill-considered giant wedges of barely-cooked red onion.

Husband had a sandwich with smoked salmon, cream cheese, garlic puree and some other stuff. He said it wasn’t too bad but that it was weird that it was served hot. Warm sheets of smoked salmon just aren’t really a thing, as far as I know.

The kids menu was large and provided in the form of an activity/colouring sheet, which was nice. But the kids didn’t really eat the food. Not even Youngest, who eats everything.

So, I was a little disappointed with the restaurant and think they could up their game there, but the rest of the farm was brilliant. Especially considering that admission and parking are free.

TOP TIP: Despite my moaning about “not enough garlic”, I really wouldn’t recommend going to the The Garlic Farm restaurant if you’re planning a date, a business meeting, or to take public transport. The garlic smell emitted from our mouths (and other places, perhaps) was truly offensive for at least the next 24 hours. It’s a good thing we didn’t have any guests in our caravan.

Besides the shop (where we bought the pesto from my flatbread and a massive braid of garlic), there was a large room where you could taste the wares, an education room hosting arts & crafts for children, a cafe and an ice cream stand.

What we enjoyed most was the walk around the farm. There were beautiful fields of wildflowers and rows of different types of garlic with descriptions for each. I had no idea there was such a wide variety of garlic breeds for all around the world.

You could then proceed to take a nature walk through woods and fields, where you may see some cows. The website had implied there was a variety of other animals, but we couldn’t spot them. It was a very hot day so perhaps they were wiser than us and off keeping cool somewhere.

The farm was also a prehistoric settlement and you can see some artefacts that have been found there in the education room.

TOP TIP: If you’re with the kids, remember to get a map before starting the nature walk (I didn’t), and make sure you only attempt “very short nature walk” or “short nature walk”. We did the latter and it was still a big ask for Eldest. At one point, I told him to go have a rest on a random bench, but when he did, it fell over on top of him! So do test any benches before attempting to sit on them.

The walk ended in a grassy area with a children’s playhouse and some free-range chickens. I was a little bit scared that the chickens would attack, so we didn’t stay long.

A day at Shanklin Beach, Isle of Wight

Getting there

When I go on holiday, I’m usually a stickler about doing my research. I buy a guidebook and read stuff online, and any day trips are carefully planned. However, this time I was all tired out from planning the umpteen million things I needed to pack to keep my kids happy. So when we decided to go to the beach, I said, “I heard Shanklin’s good”, and blithely chose a Shanklin car park on my sat nav.

So I’m not sure what other people’s sat navs are like, but mine loves going off the beaten track. I have troves of holiday photos of roads that end abruptly in the middle of a field of sheep or that require me to ford a small stream. I therefore should not have been surprised when my blithely chosen car park did get me near the beach. It was just a quick abseil down a massive cliff to get there.

So we tried again and figured out that we wanted the Shanklin Esplanade. This is the bit where you can actually get to a beach without mountaineering equipment.

Our second mistake was deciding we’d turn up at the beach “just in time for lunch”. There were loads of car parks on the Esplanade plus parking along the road, but every single last spot was full. It was an exceptionally nice day, but this was still on an off-season weekday so I wasn’t expecting the busyness. We wasted quite a bit of time driving up and down, stalking pedestrians who might be returning to their car, in the effort to find a spot. We finally gave up on parking on the Esplanade and drove back up the hill, where after a bit more stalking we found a spot. It was a parallel parking sort of one so it’s a good thing my husband was driving. I’m so bad at parallel parking we’d probably still be there, going back and forth, trying to get closer to the kerb.

TOP TIP: Either go early to nab a parking spot or plan to drop your family and beach kit on the beach while the unlucky driver parks the car wherever he or she can.

So we piled all of our stuff out of the car at the top of the hill. And we really brought a lot of stuff. A tent, sand toys, swim kits & towels, a very large changing bag packed to the brim with things I’m sure I couldn’t have managed without … It’s a good thing we have a big pushchair with all-terrain wheels.

However we had foolishly retired the double-buggy extra seat, thinking 4-year-old could now manage without. Not very long after leaving the car and really quite some way from the restaurant we wanted for lunch, my big boy started doing some of his very best whingeing. First it was just “my little feet are tired” and “I’m hungry”. But then he uttered the phrase that strikes fear into my heart: “I need the toilet”.

I learned something on this day. I will go a long way to avoid a public toileting accident. Ever since my son in younger years made a trail across the church hall which the vicar then cleaned up. I guess I was traumatised. So as soon as he uttered these words, I scooped him up and began carrying him as fast as I could to the nearest toilet. However, it seemed everywhere that looked like it might have a toilet either didn’t or required you to queue up with the customers and get a key. So I ended up carrying him (along with the overstuffed changing bag) about half-a-mile all the way to restaurant, sweating and puffing while my son whinged about his bladder and the haphazard way I was carrying him.

TOP TIP: Later in the day, I learned that there were public toilets RIGHT F__ING NEXT TO where my son had first announced his toilet emergency. Near the entrance of the Esplanade near Pirates Cove Mini Golf, which looks awesome, btw. In fact, I’ve later realised that my son often says he wants a wee when he sees a public toilet sign, so that’s probably all it was in the first place.

Lunch at The Waterfront Inn

Chosen via an extremely brief and careless Google search, mainly based on its location, I was happy with my lunch there. To be honest, after our mad dash for the loo, the most important part of my lunch was the beautiful cold pint of cider.

But the atmosphere was great. There was terraced outdoor seating at the front of the restaurant looking out towards the beach, and most of it was in the shade. You have to order at the bar, but there were still plenty of smiling and helpful staff about to get highchairs, advise where to park the buggy, etc.

I ordered the seared tuna with salsa verde and husband had mussels in a Thai-flavoured sauce. There was a lot of variety on the kids menu. Older boy had lasagne with garlic bread and youngest had fish and chips. The kids food was very good quality (I stole a lot of it), and they ate as much as they usually do when the food in unobjectionable (i.e. not a whole helluva lot). Husband seemed to enjoy his mussels too. My only complaint is that my seared tuna was fully cooked through. I thought seared tuna meant it was a bit raw in the middle. But it was still perfectly edible and I cleaned my plate.

And now to the actual beach…

The beach is all sandy and beautiful and there were plenty of places to “cop a squat“, as they say in Pretty Woman.

Now, those of you, dear readers, who grew up in England may be no strangers to pitching a tent on the beach. I suppose the weather here often necessitates that sort of thing. But I had never before had a tent on a beach. I grew up in the USA where I’ve never seen that done. But, boy am I converted. We had shade, a place to hide our stuff where it wouldn’t get blown away, and best of all a place to change without seeking out a changing room. I am never going to the beach without a tent again. So worth carrying THAT down the hill.

So we pitched our tent and we all changed into our swim kits INSIDE THE TENT. Okay, I’ll stop going on about it.

It’s simply a brilliant beach. The English Channel water is really freeze your arse off cold though. And if you can handle the cold, be sure you wear some aqua shoes because even though the beach is sandy, it’s very rocky once you’re inside the water. But other than that it’s clean, sandy, spacious and scenic.

It was my youngest son’s first time at the seaside. He hurtled himself towards the water yelling “Sea! Sea! Sea!”. While my oldest dug himself a hole full of water to make a nice safe paddling pool. Good times.

The verdict

I reckon if you’re visiting the Isle of Wight during beach sort of weather, Shanklin Beach is a must-see.

4 out of 5 shells (I had to penalise them one for the parking fiasco, even though it was mostly my fault)

Red Funnel ferry to the Isle of Wight

My last post was about our Isle of Wight holiday and this one gives credit to an important part of us getting there. Should you wish to visit the Isle of Wight, I highly recommend Red Funnel ferries.

The boats were spacious with plenty of air-conditioned indoor seating and outside deck seating. There were several different places to buy food. We had coffee, juice and cake during our outgoing morning crossing and ice cream on the way home. There is a special pet-friendly lounge if you’re bringing your dog, and more importantly a child-friendly lounge featuring a giant computer touch screen with games. It also had a little table for playing trains, although unfortunately people had stolen all the trains. Nevertheless, my 1-year-old enjoyed pretending the train tracks were bricks and climbing over and under the train table.

Best of all, if you ask nicely and the weather is good, you can visit the bridge and meet the captain. My 4-year-old asked to meet the captain and so the two of us crept up the narrow stairs to the bridge. My son got a little intimidated once we were there and didn’t want to sit in the captain’s chair, but he did begrudgingly accept the captain’s binoculars. I restrained myself from sitting in the captain’s chair despite desperately wanting to.

I totally geeked out asking the captain how he drives the boat and “what does that do”. He was very kind and informative, and even posed for a picture with us. I didn’t ask him if I could post his picture so I’ve just posted a picture of boat-driving wheels and walkie-talkies. Well, I found them exciting.

The crossing takes about an hour and it costs us £65 round trip for our car with roof rack, using a Sun newspaper discount that came with our holiday. The Solent crossing is well-known for being the most expensive crossing in relation to distance, but at least the boat was good.

The verdict

This was the best short-haul ferry I’ve ever been on.

5 out of 5 shells