Archive – Page 10 – The Mum Reviews

Being kind to yourself at Christmas

Some of you might have seen the news around this time last year when people started talking about “emotional labour”. This is the concept that on top of the everyday work that women do – whether that is in or outside of the home – we do the extra work of looking after others emotionally. This Guardian article puts it better than I could:

We remember children’s allergies, we design the shopping list, we know where the spare set of keys is. We multi-task. We know when we’re almost out of Q-tips, and plan on buying more. We are just better at remembering birthdays.

I don’t like to make generalisations, but in many relationships, it is the woman that deals with all the admin for children’s schooling (parties, filling in the forms, getting the right outfits on the right day, baking the endless cakes).

I find at Christmas in particular, it is women who get it all sorted out. We figure out what to buy for whom and buy it before our partners have realised it’s December. We send Christmas cards, we arrange drinks or dinner with valued friends, we sort out travel arrangements, and we pack the bags if we’re going away.

Sometimes I think it would be utterly hilarious to let my husband pack the children’s things for a weekend away. Not to rag on him – he does all the cooking in our house and contributes a fair amount to other domestic chores – but he’s clueless at stuff like that. He’d remember to pack clothes but forget things like their cuddly toys to get them to sleep.

All of this remembering who needs what and when can be extremely tiring. This is why I’ve been thinking about how we can look after ourselves at Christmas while we’re usually so busy looking after everyone else. So I have compiled a little list of things I can choose NOT to do, to give myself a little break and be kind to myself this Christmas:

Christmas cards. I have duly purchased cards and planned to send them off to my carefully compiled list. But between real life and blogging life, I don’t know when I’m going to have the time or energy to sit down and write ‘Merry Christmas’ and an address 20 times over. My real friends will understand if I don’t get round to it. I will do it if I have time, and forgive myself if I don’t.

Sitting in front at the Nativity play. My school operates some sort of system where certain classes’ parents get priority seating on certain days of the Nativity play. I can only make the day where I will have to sit in the back. I’m not really sure what happened to good old “first come, first served”. But not everyone can sit in front. I refuse to feel guilty about this. I will be there, and that’s what counts.

Attending events that no one will notice you’ve missed. I felt incredibly guilty last week when work commitments meant I couldn’t attend my 2yo’s nursery Christmas party. I went last year. It was fun. I got to watch him do some party games, eat some party food, and then watch him cry when Father Christmas came to visit. I’m going to forgive myself for not watching him do this again this year. My husband went, so he did have someone there, and my son will never remember the occasion anyway.

Watching my weight. I have some weight loss goals. I’ve been doing okay with them. But December is not the time to keep losing weight. Or even to not gain a bit of weight. It’s all tiring enough without abstaining from food and drink when everyone else is indulging. I’m going to live it up and be miserable and boring in January just like everybody else.

Keeping up with the blog. I would like to vaguely keep posting until we properly break up for Christmas, but honestly I’m not really feeling it at the moment. Christmas is hard enough without churning out sparkling content. That’s why you’re getting this amazing list about what I’m not doing. I’m relatively confident that all my bloggy dreams will not be dashed by slacking off at Christmas.

Baking. Unless you luurve baking because it relaxes you. I like baking, but only when I have loads of time to spare. In previous years, I have always baked some Christmas biscuits to decorate and share with work colleagues, friends and/or family. Not this year. I will buy some boxes of Cadbury’s Roses and everyone will be equally happy (if less impressed by my domestic goddess-ness).

Skipping self-care. When I get busy, the first thing that goes is my self-care. Uncut hair, unpainted nails and no makeup for me! But not this Christmas. These things make me feel like me. They make me feel relaxed and happy. So I’m going to make time for them. Even if that means an extra episode of Twirlywoos on the iPad for the little ones.

Buying lots of presents. I’ve sorted out the presents, but I’ve not been as extravagant or creative as usual. Simple and thoughtful is good enough. People don’t have to gasp in wonder at their presents.

Worrying about how Christmas day is going to go down. Some of us have more responsibility for this than others. I’m lucky enough to NOT be responsible for making the dinner. But I have in previous years worried an awful lot about how much fun will be had by me and others, and gotten upset when things didn’t go well (cue my children having ALL the tantrums and me MISSING the Doctor Who Christmas Special). Well, unlike last year, I am no longer breastfeeding. So I’m just going to drink as much wine as I like and go with the flow. And I can catch up with The Doctor on iPlayer later.

Do you feel a bit burnt out in the run-up to Christmas? What do you do (or not do) to make it easier?

One-pot tuna pasta recipe

I’m all about the quick, 20-minute meal to feed the hungry crowd, and this version of classic tuna pasta is dead easy. I really like the sweetness added by frying off a few onions in butter before adding the tuna. Usually, tinned tuna is simply stirred into the dish, but I fry it a bit with the onions as I break up the meat, and it just adds a depth of flavour without being labour intensive.

You can use gluten-free pasta if you prefer – any shape will do – but I like standard macaroni for this dish. I know it’s tempting to use a tin of condensed cream of mushroom or chicken soup, but I promise this is just as easy and less gloppy. I only want one pot to clean, so I boil the pasta and peas together, make the sauce while they drain, and then toss it all together again. Easy peasy.

You’ll need:

2 cups dry pasta
1 cup frozen peas
4-6 cups water

For the sauce:

1 cup chopped white onion (I use frozen)
2 TB butter
1 tin of tuna
1 tsp dried garlic
½ tsp dried oregano
1 cup single cream or half and half
1 cup shredded cheese of choice (I use mild cheddar for the kids)
Salt and pepper to taste
Optional splash of milk to loosen the sauce as preferred

The Method:

Bring a pot of water to the boil and add your pasta. Adjust the quantities for a larger pot, but this should easily feed a family of four to five people.

After half the cooking time for your pasta, add the frozen peas and bring back to the boil.

Once the pasta is tender, drain the pasta and peas and allow to rest while you use the pot.

Add butter and onions over a med-high heat and allow the onions to go translucent.

Add the tinned tuna and break it up, coating it with the butter and onions, and allow the mixture to fry slightly.

Add the dried garlic and oregano, and mix well before pouring in the cream. Stir well, continuing to break up the tuna and allowing the cream to warm.

Add the cheese a bit at a time, stirring well into the creamy tuna in about three batches. Feel free to add more cheese than stated if you love it!

Allow the sauce to begin to bubble slightly before returning the pasta and peas. Mix well and give it a taste to add salt and pepper as you see fit.

This couldn’t be faster for a midweek meal; most ingredients are staples! Hope you enjoy this no-fuss version of a classic tuna pasta. If you just can’t live without the cheesy-baked top, go ahead and throw it into a baking dish and cover with shredded cheese. I didn’t have the time to oven bake, and this was on the table in 20 minutes! It left me time to play some Uno with the kids.

Taking a holiday from parenting

I’ve been having an unusual time lately. First, I had a minor surgical procedure which meant I had to rest and not pick up my kids or do housework for at least 2 weeks. Now, this week, my “day job” sent me to work at a conference. I’m on the train home now after spending 3 days in a resort hotel. I’m not sure if you missed me, but as a result I also haven’t blogged all week. I have had a proper holiday from parenting and from my normal life.

The conference was actually hard work. I was watching and taking notes at one session after another, and in the breaks I was working at an exhibition stand. There were evening events too, with which came an obligation to “network”, even if such events were pleasantly abundant with good food and booze. So I found myself waking up at 6am and going to sleep after midnight every night – it was hardly a chance to catch up on sleep.

But it wasn’t as difficult or exhausting as parenting.

It got me thinking about how rarely most parents – especially mums – get any sort of holiday from the work of parenting. Stay-at-home parents must experience this particularly intensely. Those of us who work outside the home greatly value our quiet commutes, civilised lunches with colleagues, and hot cups of tea.

While I recovered from my surgery, I was at home but was officially required to rest. I didn’t have to jump up when somebody needed to be fed or changed. I didn’t have to wrestle the 2yo into the bath. I didn’t have to cook or clean or even do the school run. It was pretty amazing to be honest, and I caught up on some neglected Netflix series.

But there were difficult moments as well. I was at home with my children, but not able to pick them up when they cried. I saw my husband struggle with not having enough hands, and wasn’t able to offer him any help (yes it was hard, even if it was also funny). I was not even able to get on the floor to play with my children when they asked me to.

When I recovered from the surgery and was able to do these things again, I was incredibly grateful. I found that even though it can feel like drudgery when you’re doing it every day, I enjoy doing things for my family. I revel in the critical role I play in their lives. My children in particular need me intensely, and I am aware that that is something that will not last forever.

Now that I’ve subsequently been away from my family completely for a few days, I find that there are other things that I take for granted when I’m at home.

For example, at home, I often feel “touched out” at the end of a day after constantly cuddling my children and being climbed on, poked and prodded by them. I am so tired of being touched by others at the end of the day that I just want to be left alone. However at this conference, I have had the opposite situation. I haven’t really touched another human being (beyond the odd handshake) for 3 days!

I am suffering from touch withdrawal. I can’t wait to go home and feel that close connection to other humans again. The more I think about it, the more I actually can’t bear the thought that some humans live all the time without anyone else to touch.

Also, I have had 3 days of completely uninterrupted adult conversation. And most of it was to do with work, so it was also either extremely intellectual or just awkward small talk. Luckily, there were some friendly people there too with whom I could talk utter rubbish, otherwise I might have felt a bit lonely.

That sort of adult conversation is what I normally crave. But having an abundance of it for a longer period of time has made me grateful for the simple and real interactions I have with my family.

Tomorrow morning, I will start my day with cuddles and Paw Patrol. I will deal with poo. I will have protracted conversations about what to make for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I will break up fights. I will calm down tantrums. I will kiss it better. I will repeatedly pretend to eat plastic food, lovingly prepared by my children in their toy kitchen. I will explain for the 5 millionth time why the radiator makes a funny noise. And I’m looking forward to it.

When I tell you that I had a real parenting holiday, and that I found it hard sometimes, I’m sure you’ll be getting out the world’s smallest violin to play me a tune. And I know it’s popular to point out all the hardest parts of parenting. It’s important too – so that people know they’re not alone. But it’s also good to remember that in exchange for all the sleepless nights, the times we’re covered in poop, the endless washing and cleaning, and the downright boredom, we are getting something pretty wonderful in exchange.

I think it was John Lennon who said “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans”. So I will try to remember, when I start to get frustrated or bored, that these simple moments are the cornerstone of family life. And importantly, the hard times that we go through as parents are the price we pay to live a life filled with love.

Christmas Carols: A parenting minefield

One of my favourite bits of the bedtime routine is singing to my children. I always sing at least one song to each of my sons before they go to sleep. My eldest usually chooses a song now that he knows my full repertoire, but during the festive season his only guideline is that I sing Christmas songs.

There aren’t a lot of Christmas songs that I know by heart, and even with those I’m probably getting the lyrics wrong. But either way, I find my inner monologue while singing these songs to my son ever so slightly troubling. I worry about what exactly do these lyrics mean and are they really sending appropriate messages to a 4 year old?

Okay, so it’s not a really serious worry. Certainly not big enough for me to stop singing them. But I thought it might be amusing to take a look at some of the weirdest Christmas song lyrics out there.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows when you’re awake

My son pegged this one the other day. “How does Santa Claus see me when I’m sleeping?” I told him it was “magic”. He seemed to accept it. But how creepy is that? No wonder my children look slightly worried in their Christmas photo, if they think they’re meeting the fat bearded man with odd dress sense who has been watching them all night long – ALL YEAR.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Without quoting the lyrics directly, we all know the story of this song. All the mean bully reindeer laughed at poor Rudolph because he had a stupid big red nose. They wouldn’t let him join in their reindeer games (whatever those might be – maybe antler ring toss – Rudolph probs wasn’t missing much).

But then, when suddenly Rudolph gets some extra accolades from the big boss (Santa), and becomes the manager of the Sleigh Guidance Department, all the reindeer “loved” him. The bastard suck ups. I worry that this song is teaching my son that it’s okay to be a shallow arse-licker who bullies people until they want something from them.

Winter Wonderland

My son said the other day that this is his favourite Christmas song. I guess he just likes the tune. I worry about the old-fashioned sentiments.

In the meadow we can build a snowman
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown
He’ll say, “Are you married?”
We’ll say, “No man”
But you can do the job, when you’re in town

What? So this couple is walking around in the snow, they decide to build a snowman, and then they decide to pretend he’s a priest? How random is that? Is it actually both members of the couple, or just one of them trying to propose in an entirely creepy way? “Look, Parson Brown the religious snowman wants us to stop living in sin. What do you say, babes?”

I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas

I’m not actually worried about my son’s reaction to this one. We both know we’re talking about snow. But the whole time I’m singing this, I can’t help but think of racists. I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know. I mean, why don’t you still know white Christmases if you used to have them all the time? Did you move from Finland to Spain? Or are you just a member of the alt-right and speaking in thinly veiled innuendo? It just makes me think of some of the worrisome politics we are facing today, even though that’s obviously not what the song is about.

We Wish You a Merry Christmas

This one is pleasant enough, until it gets to the bit about figgy pudding. Bring us some figgy pudding. Please bring some right now! We won’t go until we get some. Bugger off, you spoiled brats. Where are your parents? Get your own figgy pudding.

Silent Night

This one is lovely and soothing. It is definitely one of my favourites. But I have to admit to cringing a bit at the round yon virgin bit. What if the boy asks me, “Mummy, what’s a virgin?” And what do I tell him? Maybe a young, unmarried woman? But that could backfire. He might go around calling people virgins. “My cousin is only 16. She’s a virgin.” But I can’t tell him what it actually means! It’s a minefield. I’ll just mumble the virgin part and hope he doesn’t notice. Round yon mm-mm-mm, mother and child!

What are your favourite Christmas carols? Do any of them have slightly dodgy lyrics?

“Thanksgiving” Green Bean Casserole and Sweet Potato Mash

Having only recently returned to the States after a decade-long hiatus from Thanksgiving, I was mildly overwhelmed by the volume of activity involved in this traditional feast. After spending many years basically forgetting about Thursday’s main event, I hadn’t prepared for the flurry that would surround at least four days of stuffing ourselves, and a turkey. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I also hosted a “Friendsgiving” on the Saturday following the blowout at my parent’s house on Thursday.

That being said, I had nary a moment to snap photos along the way between basting, roasting, caramelising and child herding, so I hope you’ll forgive the lack of step by step pictures this week. What I do have for you though, are three incredibly easy recipes that can be used for a Sunday roast or midweek feast. Trade chicken for the turkey and reduce the time by loads, and you’ll have a dinner to give thanks for – I promise.

Back in the day, a green bean casserole meant tinned beans, condensed cream of mushroom soup and fried crispy onions on top. These days, I prefer to start from scratch to ensure it’s gluten-free and free of wacky preservatives and stabilisers. Not only is it healthier; it’s a million times tastier. My family couldn’t say enough, or eat enough, of this classic side dish with homemade flavour. The sweet potato mash is just my preference to standard white mash, and it adds a lovely sweet balance to the savoury beans and turkey.

Some tips for turkey

For Friendsgiving, I slow roasted a medium-sized turkey coated in honey mustard until it was falling off the bone. At just 110C/225F for 8-10 hours, keep the bird covered with foil and with approximately 2 cups of chicken stock on the bottom of the roasting tin. I add one large onion to the cavity and sprinkle garlic salt to stick to the mustard coating. I started with the breast down and flipped it half way through (4 hours in), increased the heat to 180C/350F and uncovered for the last 15 minutes to crisp the skin. You can do the same with a large chicken, reducing the time to 3-4 hours, for succulent, juicy meat. Always be sure to check the meat is cooked through before serving; all ovens vary!

Green bean casserole and sweet mash

You’ll need:

• 2 medium white onions
• 1 tsp veg oil of choice
• 1 TB salted butter
• 1 tsp balsamic vinegar
• 1 tsp fresh or dried garlic minced
• 2 cups chopped fresh mushroom of choice; I use white
• 2 cups double/heavy cream
• 6-8 cups topped and tailed fresh green beans
• 4 pieces of bacon chopped roughly (optional)
• 3 large sweet potatoes
• 2 TB salted butter
• ½ tsp pumpkin pie spice (cinnamon, allspice, clove and nutmeg)
• ½ TB Greek yogurt or soured cream
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Splash of milk or cream to loosen for preferred texture (optional)

The method:

Begin with slicing the onion into long strips and adding them with the oil to a wide pot over a medium heat. The onions will sweat and begin to brown after a few minutes of little stirring. Once they begin to brown slightly, try to stir more often so they don’t fry instead of sweetening.

After ten to fifteen minutes, you should begin to see them all browning, shrivelling and producing a lovely sweet aroma. You won’t need to add any sugar – these release their own natural sweetness that’s impressive.

Once the onions have produced a nice glaze, add the mushrooms and coat them with it. Add in the balsamic vinegar and a tab of butter. Keep stirring until the mushrooms and onions are well blended.

Add the cream and dried garlic, stirring continuously to avoid scorching the cream. Using a non-stick pan is ideal for this, because sometimes the kids need you urgently and you don’t have time to ruin dinner.

Once the cream has incorporated into the onions and mushrooms and reduced slightly, add the chopped bacon and pour the sauce over a baking tray full of halved green beans.

Bake covered at 180C/350F in the top 1/3 of the oven for approximately 35 minutes, or until the beans are tender. Allow to rest for 5 minutes or more before serving.

For the sweet mash, bake the whole sweet potatoes at 180C/350F for 1 hour, or until they’re running juices. I usually line a tray with foil to avoid clean up of the leaky sugars.

Allow the soft potatoes to cool slightly before scooping into a large bowl and discarding the skins.

Add the butter and smash the potatoes and butter until smooth.

Add the yogurt or soured cream and dry spice and mix thoroughly. Taste your mash to be sure it doesn’t need a splash of milk or cream to loosen the texture.

Serve these green beans and this mash as side dishes to any kind of roast and you won’t be disappointed. With the above method for turkey or chicken, it’s amazing. Once the bird is out of the oven, you can easily make gravy with the remaining stock, but the green beans have a lovely gravy of their own that’s delicious. My family and friends were filled to bursting with these moreish sides. Happy feasting!

Why birth plans are a waste of time for first-time mums

Is that a nice controversial blog post title? Well, it got your attention, right? Right. Okay, so birth plans might not be entirely a waste of time. But I think first-time mums in particular should be warned that they very well might be.

You see, when I was pregnant with my first child, nobody told me that a birth plan wasn’t really a plan. It’s more like a sort of wish list. To me the word plan connotes something that I have control over. If I plan to go to work tomorrow, then there is a 99% chance that I’m going to go. There are some conceivable events that could stop me from going, but in all likelihood, it will be purely up to me as to whether I follow through on my plan.

But when it comes to birthing babies, we have very little control as to how things are going to pan out. That is the truth that nobody told little old me. My birth plan was written on my heart. It had the following points:

I wanted to deliver at a midwife-led centre instead of in hospital
I wanted a water birth with only gas & air for pain relief
No induction
No epidural
No continuous monitoring
I was going to have a beautiful, calm, natural birth

I was so certain that these were the things that were needed to help me cope with the delivery. I also thought they were the best and safest options for me and my baby. However, at 10 days overdue I was showing meconium-stained waters with no other signs of going into labour. So this is the birth I got:

Birth in hospital instead of the midwife-led centre
I didn’t even go anywhere near a water birthing pool
I was induced
I had an epidural
I laid on my back the whole time, being continuously monitored
I screamed and cried and swore and was absolutely terrified and NOT CALM the entire time
I had an emergency c-section

It was the polar opposite of what I had wanted.

And I was absolutely heartbroken about it. I had spent so much time thinking about how it was all going to go down, and researching what the best things to do were. When I didn’t get to do any of those things, I saw myself as a failure. For me, failing to have the “natural” (read vaginal) birth I’d planned was like failing at something I thought I was born to do. I’d been gallivanting around telling my friends that my body was built to give birth. And it was. Just not the way I had intended.

I just wish that someone – anyone – had taken the pregnant me aside and told me just how unpredictable giving birth can be. And that at the end of the day, all that matters is that you deliver a healthy baby. So if you’re pregnant now or recently gave birth and are feeling disappointed by the experience, here are a few things that I think need to be said:

Remember that there is a possibility that all plans, wishes and expectations will go completely out the window on the big day. Accept that and don’t dwell too much on a future you can’t predict.

A lot of advice I was given from various sources made me think that I would need to “advocate” for myself during the birth. I would need to keep those doctors and midwives in line by making sure they knew my birthing desires at all times. But when it came down to it, I was too scared and in too much pain to argue about anything. I just did exactly what they told me to. And that was probably the right thing to do, but the earlier advice made me feel as though I’d failed myself by not pushing my agenda.

There is no nobility in facing unbearable pain. If you want the drugs, take the drugs! There is nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about if you use every single pain relief method available to you.

It doesn’t matter how the baby comes out. You will give birth in the best way you can, be it vaginally, via a caesarean or with other assistance.

So in my humble opinion, the best birth plan is a plan to go with the flow. How can you plan something that is different every time it happens, even for the same person? But if you think it helpful to write down your wishes with regard to your birth – of course go ahead. Just be prepared that when you’re actually in labour, you may want to crumple it up and throw it at someone – probably your partner.

And if, like me, you are unhappy about how your birth went, then talk to someone about it. Many hospitals offer a postnatal debriefing or counselling service where they go through your delivery notes and explain why things happened the way they did. I took advantage of this service myself and it made me feel so much better about my birth. I stopped blaming myself for it not going the way I wanted.

Before I had the counselling, I was afraid to ever give birth again in case it was equally awful. But the counselling showed me that every birth is different. When I did eventually have a second baby, everything went exactly to plan. Because I didn’t have one!

Should I lie to my children about Father Christmas?

Like most non-parents, before I had my children, I had some pretty strong opinions about how I was going to parent my future children. I remember sitting in my neighbour’s lounge, 9 months pregnant with my first son, saying to her:

“I will never let him watch In the Night Garden. What a ridiculous programme!”

Well ha bloody ha ha! By the time he was 1 year old, Night Garden had become a part of our bedtime routine. He wouldn’t commence bath and story time until CBeebies had actually told him it was time to go to bed. So much for my pre-parent parenting plans.

Another topic on which my pre-parent self had strong opinions was about telling my children the truth. I told anyone who would listen that I would never lie to my children. And that included “lying” to them about the existence of Father Christmas.

I saw an article on Netmums recently saying that researchers have found that “the lie of Santa can actually be damaging”. Now, pre-parent me would have been nodding vigorously to this. I had long conversations with my mother-in-law about how I wouldn’t be telling “the Santa lie” to my children because it would be a betrayal. She understandably disagreed with my thoughts on this.

I worried that if I lied about this one thing, then once they found out the truth they would never trust anything I had taught them. Especially if it was anything that needed to be taken on pure faith without any proof. However, post-parent me feels a bit different.

The thing is, I never truly believed in Santa Claus as a child, but I still went to his grotto every year. My family never went out of their way to convince me he’s real, but they still sometimes gave me gifts from “Santa”. I enjoyed playing the game. It didn’t matter to me whether he was real; it was just fun to imagine he was. I never told them I didn’t believe because I was afraid that would be the end of the fun stuff. I’m sure they knew that I didn’t believe, but none of us cared.

So as my eldest son grew old enough to understand the concept of Father Christmas, I found I couldn’t resist teaching him about the Christmas customs. Soon, I was shamelessly “telling the lie”. I’ve enjoyed getting family pictures at Santa’s Grotto. I’ve loved teaching my son Christmas carols. One of his faves is “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”. Last year, on Christmas Eve, we even put out mince pies, brandy and a carrot for the reindeer. The brandy was large and the carrot was very, very small.

This year we’ve kicked it up a notch and he’s written his first letter to Santa, which we actually sent off in the post.

So, as with Night Garden, I’ve done a complete 180 degree parenting turn.

The thing is: I’m not sure if it’s really lying. How is it any different from telling any other imaginative story or playing a game of pretend? And importantly, my son hasn’t questioned it yet. The closest he’s gotten is, when listening to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”, he asked how Santa can see him when he’s sleeping. I just said “magic” and he was happy with that.

The real test will be if he starts asking more serious questions about whether Santa actually exists. This is where I will draw the line. I don’t care to go out of my way to propagate the fantasy, but at the same time, I don’t want to outright say Santa doesn’t exist. If I told him this, he might ruin it for his friends, and no one is going to thank me for that.

So my plan is to explain that believing in Father Christmas is a game we all love to play in order to make Christmas more fun. That’s why we do it, right? Because it’s fun?

I’m going to tell him that nobody knows for absolute certain that he doesn’t exist, but that it doesn’t matter. The idea is that it’s fun to believe – just like when we pretend to be cats or Pontipines (oh yes, being a Pontipine is a popular pastime in my house). And I will remind him that it’s important not to tell other people if we don’t believe he’s real, because it will ruin the fun.

There may not be a literal jolly fat bearded man hanging out at the North Pole forcing elves to make toys. But the idea of it is a positive way to fuel our children’s imaginations. Just look at all the fantastic books and films that use this popular myth to create a new and different story. It’s a quintessential part of our culture.

So even if Father Christmas doesn’t exist in the real world, he will always exist in our imaginations. Without him, Christmas wouldn’t be half as much fun. And that’s the absolute truth.

An exercise in thankfulness

This week it’s Thanksgiving in the USA, where I lived until I was 22. It’s a day every year where people come together to eat ridiculous amounts of food and then fall asleep in front of the TV. It’s sort of like an extra Christmas without the presents or the religion. I won’t go into the full history of it here, but if you want to know more, then this article in the Telegraph is pretty informative.

For some, Thanksgiving is just about having a good time and they don’t think much about what it really means. However, for many, we like to take a moment and think about what we are grateful for in our lives. And a cursory Google search on the term “being thankful” brought up numerous articles explaining how gratitude can actually make you healthier.

But it’s not always that easy, is it? Children need looking after, houses need cleaning, work needs doing, family members need help, you get health problems, you have a bad day, people are jerks … all of the things that happen in a normal life can pile on top of each other and weigh you down until you forget to look up and remember what’s good.

I’ve been feeling a bit weighed down lately myself – so much so that I’ve started having heart palpitations and even panic attacks. My doctor’s only suggestion was to “give up coffee”. Oh right, like that’s going to make me less stressed!

But I have decided that as it’s Thanksgiving, I’m going to make an effort. I don’t bother with the turkey and all the fixings now that I live in the UK (I get enough turkey at Christmas, thanks), but I do think taking time out to be grateful is time well spent. So here is my exercise in thankfulness. I’m going to tell you some of the things that are pissing me off, and then find something related for which I’m thankful. Some are serious – some less so – but hopefully some of you will get where I’m coming from.

I’m not happy about…

…the fact that my older son is still not getting on well at school. He screams at the teachers and runs aways down the halls. Yesterday the teacher actually called home to tell me what he’d been up to. His behaviour at home has gone downhill as well. This is despite a recent visit to a paediatrician who basically thought he was fine. I’m at a loss as to how to help him right now.

But I’m grateful for…

…my son. We are having these issues but he is still my child and we love each other. There’s nothing better when I hear him say “I love you” in his little voice. We can play and giggle and have a laugh. I am not the perfect parent and I need to learn how to work with him to improve his behaviour, but we will always be a team.

I’m not happy about…

…having lost a friend recently. He passed away and I’d not made the effort to see him for a while. And so I felt grief but also guilt. I messaged him just before I found out what had happened, but it was already too late.

But I’m grateful for…

…the fun times we had together. I’ve spent some time looking at old photos and remembering, and enjoyed a pint of Guinness (his favourite) in his honour. Remembering the good is the only way to move forward. I’m also grateful for the lesson I learned about keeping in touch with people. Next time I think of a friend, I will message them straight away, while I still have the chance.

I’m not happy about…

…being sore and weak while recovering from the hernia surgery I had recently. I haven’t been able to pick up my kids or even leave the house for the last week and a half.

But I’m grateful for…

…the prospect that this will improve my long-term health. Plus, the leaflet they sent me home with says I must not do the washing or hoovering for 6 weeks! It’s right there in black and white. I’ve shown it to my husband.

I’m not happy about…

…my lack of interior design skills. My house is so cluttered, with my main decorating accents being brightly-coloured plastic toys. I look with envy at beautiful lifestyle blogs and their owners’ skilled arrangement of attractive scatter cushions. I have scatter cushions that my neighbour gave me after she bought some nicer ones. It was my house or the bin for them. Appropriate – since at my house they are often covered in cat hair and biscuit crumbs.

But I’m grateful for…

…the fact we’re nearly finished building an extension to our house. It’s been hard having builders around and everything in upheaval for the last 5 months, but soon we will have more living and storage space. Hopefully I will then be able to cut the clutter. I doubt I’ll get any better about scatter cushions though.

I’m not happy about…

…being rubbish at Instagram. This is a blogger gripe. I know good bloggers are expected to take fabulous photos and share them on Instagram. But I just don’t really “get” photography. To me, it’s what the picture makes you think about, rather than the aesthetics. And I hate the shallow “great feed” comments you get.

But I’m grateful for…

…the people who follow me anyway! Why anyone beyond my close friends are happy to look at a poorly-lit photograph of my dinner is beyond me. But they do. I even got 30-odd likes on a shot of my messy living room full of packages of laminate flooring and plaster dust. So I’ve decided to keep it real on Instagram. I’m going to post pics of my real life and just be happy with the followers who want to see it.

I’m not happy about…

…what I like to call the Christmas conundrum. I’ve been working hard to get fit and be happy with the way I look for a school reunion I have coming this summer (don’t we all want to be fabulous when we see the people we grew up with after a long time?). The surgery has set me back a bit, and now we’re getting into Christmas. How can I eat ALL the mince pies without compromising my fitness goals?

I need to try all the different brands. Let’s call it blog research.

But I’m grateful for…

…the fact that I can choose to binge on pie or not. Some people can’t afford to buy all the pies, or can’t eat pies for other reasons. I’m thankful for the very existence of pie. And wine. Let’s not forget to mention wine.

But really, why bother?

Being thankful often gets a bad name. Insensitive people try to cheer up a person who is grieving or having a bad time by pointing out that they have things to be thankful for. But it doesn’t work that way. Everyone needs to talk about things that are making them unhappy, and being thankful can’t always fix things. It’s also important to be honest about our own feelings.

But forcing myself to write down some of the things that make me happy – thinking about what’s funny, what’s serious, what’s poignant and what I have learned – has already made me feel calmer and more in control. I’ve taken a break from exercising my body, but taking some time to flex my thankful muscles has helped me lose some of the weight I’ve been carrying on my shoulders.

What things are you stressed out about? What are you most thankful for? Let me know in the comments.

Come to the Dark Side. We have cakes. (bakerdays review & giveaway)

When bakerdays contacted me to ask if I’d like to review their range of Christmas cakes, I was so excited. Somebody wants to give me cake in exchange for my blogging! I must be getting good at this blogging malarkey.

I excitedly checked their website and quickly found that I could choose from a wide range of Christmassy designs, and personalise the text on the cake. Because I am a bit of a sci-fi geek, I quickly chose the one with Darth Vader wearing a Santa hat, and added my social media handle to promote myself and stuff (as you do).

I was totally lacking in Christmas cheer until Darth Vader popped through my letterbox in cake form.

A cake through a letterbox? What is up with that? Well, let me tell you.

Cakes like my lovely Darth Vader cake above are designed to fit through a letterbox. You can send them as a gift to a friend with whatever picture and text you would like. You can choose from a wide range of clever designs on the bakerdays site, or upload your own pic.

And they’re not just for Christmas. You can send them for birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations of lost virginities … whatever you like. There are even One Direction cakes, if that’s your thing. And they are available for next day delivery, because we all forget birthdays until Facebook reminds us. They are 5″ in diameter and produce at least 4 servings of delicious cake to be consumed with the hot drink of your choice. Or booze. I like heating mulled wine in the microwave.

I think these cakes would make an excellent alternative to sending a greeting card. You know when you want to send something to someone, and a card just isn’t enough? But you don’t want to spend lots of money just to send something naff that they won’t even want? These cakes are the perfect solution. Everybody likes cake, right? And you can put their name and a picture of your kid on it (e.g. I love you grandma), or include some lame inside joke that only the two of you understand.

The cakes come in 5 different flavours: vanilla, chocolate, fruit, half & half, gluten free or dairy free, so you can even send it to your vegan friends. I chose the chocolate cake and it was absolutely delicious. I couldn’t believe that this cake got sent through the post, got dropped through my letterbox, fell 3 feet to hit the floor with a bang, sat on my kitchen worktop for a week before I got round to opening it, and was still intact and utterly scrummy.

It came impeccably presented in a small cardboard box, which I opened to reveal a neat little tin (that I can keep and reuse) and a Christmas cracker. The cracker added extra fun for my kids and included a paper crown, a joke and some Christmas stickers.

The cake was moist and chocolatey with a sturdy but not overwhelming coating of icing. My favourite bit was cutting into Darth Vader’s head.

Darth Vader's head.jpg — There is no hope for me now, son.

However, you might be able to tell by now that I am easily pleased by sugary goodness and free stuff. But my little monkeys are much harsher critics. I can faithfully report that both of them enjoyed their (very small) share of the cake (because Mummy hid in the pantry and had an extra piece). Here is my youngest shouting for more:

So I highly recommend these letterbox cakes as affordable gifts for any occasion. They also do larger cakes – up to 12″ – if you need to feed more people and don’t feel like baking (but big ones won’t fit through your letterbox).

Would you fancy receiving a free letterbox cake of your very own? Of course you would. It’s free! It’s cake! What’s not to like? Please click on the link below to enter my Rafflecopter giveaway and you will be able to choose which personalised letterbox cake you’d like.

COMPETITION NOW CLOSED (VISIT GIVEAWAY PAGE TO WIN FREE CAKE)

If you’d like to learn more or even go ahead and buy a cake, then please check out the bakerdays website.

How do you feel about cake? What would your personalised cake look like?

Giveaway terms & conditions

This competition will open on 23nd November and will close on the 3rd December at 12am GMT.
One winner will be selected at random.
The winner will receive a personalised letterbox cake to be arranged in liaison directly with bakerdays
UK entrants only
No cash alternative will be offered
The winner will be announced on The Mum Reviews’ social media outlets, not the blog
The winner will have 28 days to respond to their winner’s email

Disclosure: I received a cake for purposes of this review but all views are my own.

The Night Before Christmas ebook

I get very excited about introducing my children to Christmas traditions, and one of the ones I’m keen on is reading the famous poem The Night Before Christmas (originally by Clement Clarke Moore) on Christmas Eve. I get excited when I hear the opening words:

It was the night before Christmas and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Last year, I shopped quite a while to find a copy of the poem set out in an appealing children’s book. I found one with some very classic, old-fashioned illustrations. I wrapped it up with the intention of offering it to my then-3-year-old son on Christmas Eve. I thought he would enjoy unwrapping a present “early” and then sharing this lovely story together. However, after he unwrapped the book, he didn’t want to read it!

My son loves books and reading so I was very surprised. However, occasionally I pick up a book and he refuses to look at it. I can only assume it’s because there’s something about the illustrations or design that doesn’t appeal to him. Unfortunately, this was the case with the book I bought last year. He just wasn’t interested. It still sits rather forlorn and unloved on his bookshelf.

So I was pleased when NurseryBox approached me and asked me to review their newly published ebook version of the story, by Rose Collins.

The story has been adapted and illustrated with modern children in mind. As you can see from the cover, the illustrations are bright, cartoonish and recognisable to a child’s vision of what Santa’s reindeer might look like. When Santa himself appears, he has the big red outfit and chubby cheeks one would expect (unlike the version I bought last year, which had some sort of skinny Scandinavian-style Santa).

The family that Santa visits also happens to be friendly bears instead of humans – and you and I both know how much kids love a bit of anthropomorphism.

Another twist that I like is that it makes an extra effort to be gender inclusive. What’s that, you say? Well, I actually emailed the person who sent me the book to say that there’s a typo. One of the reindeers is called “Donna” instead of “Donner”, I told her. She told me that this was intentional! NurseryBox did market research with their audience, and girls had said they were disappointed that all of the reindeers were boys. So they took advantage of the homophone and changed the male Donner into a female Donna. What a lovely idea!

So I like this book, but I’m not the one who’s important. I put it to the real test and read it with my 4yo. To my delight, he loved it! And he’s extra excited that we can put it on his tablet for him to look at on his own. This year he is aware of our plan to read it on Christmas Eve, and looking forward to it. And I’m so excited that we can share this classic bit of literature in a format we can both enjoy.

If you would like to buy The Night Before Christmas by Rose Collins, you can purchase it for less than £2 from Amazon, iTunes, Barnes & Noble or Google Play.

Disclosure: I received a copy of the ebook for the purposes of this review.