Cloth nappies, an introduction.

Posted on April 17, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

It’s real nappy week (#rnw13) this week. Cloth nappy sellers are offering promotions, cloth nappy libraries are being set up and one organisation has a few sellers on board and is offering a treasure hunt online to win some fantastic prizes! (Www.greatbritishnappyhunt.com). So, why wait to get started with cloth nappies? They’re cheap, easy and there’s no ongoing cost! You can either pass them down to siblings who are perhaps not even considered at the present time!

I asked Twitter a few weeks ago if they use cloth nappies, and if they don’t, what were they worried about saving, money or the environment? It was abrupt, but that’s the reality of the situation! Most parents who use modern cloth nappies (MCN) do so to save money. I’m not particularly green, however, I am aware of what disposable nappies do to the environment, and I’m more aware of my bank balance contributing to this issue.

Some of the responses I had to my question centred around this response;

” it isn’t cheaper if you have to use your washing machine”.

Well that must be the most used excuse I’ve heard. It is cheaper. Unless of course two (max) loads of washing a week costs you the best part of £10. If it does then I must insist you get a new machine. I am fortunate enough to have enough cloth that I run my machine only once a week. Lots of parents dry pail (put in a lidded bucket, dry) their nappies until ready to run a wash.

“Tumble drying is expensive”. “We live in a flat with no garden”.

Cloth nappies can be air, tumble or radiator dried and most people have access to at least one of these methods. Some councils not only offer cash back if you spend money on cloth nappies but also have a laundry service which doesn’t cost you a penny!

“The start up cost is phenomenal”.

This can be true. You have to be careful where you look. Like everything else in the world, there’s places to buy from and places to avoid. If you’re new to cloth and don’t know how you’ll get on with it, check your local town and see if there’s a nappy library. They offer a weeks lend of a set of nappies which you then return (clean) and they then launder and loan them out again. Then there’s eBay.

There are some eBay sellers who sell modern cloth nappies for as little as £3 each. My son uses four nappies a day, so ideally you want three days worth. So that’s £36. Three weeks cost of disposables. But that’s it. That three weekly cost of disposable you pay out only once. If you can’t afford £36 at once then buy 3 a week for a month and build it up before transitioning.

Another plus is that they have a resale value. Pre-loved cloth, as it’s known, has a huge market for nappies that parents no longer wish to use or have outgrown of. The great sales are when someone has potty trained! There’s lots of groups of FaceBook specialising in pre-loved nappies, so it may be worth checking out.

Then we move on to “pretties” or “fluff” as it’s known.

These tend to be nappies that are embroidered or appliquéd and quite often bespoke orders. Nappies needn’t be boring or usual, you can find a wonderful selection from “work at home mums” (WAHM), but be patient the waiting list can be long so get your name down while your little one is in cloth! Bespoke nappies don’t devalue a lot, so there’s the reassurance of reselling them for a large proportion of what you paid.

If you have any questions about cloth or getting started feel free to let me know! Either comment below, tweet me (@optforoptimism) or visit my FB page http://www.facebook.com/babasbum

REAL gravy. Yes it is a worthy blog post!

Posted on March 8, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

Ah. Real gravy. Some people dismiss this as time consuming, or worse, unnecessary. Blasphemy! Real gravy is what MAKES a meal. Roasted meats preferably. Now I’m not talking about “biscuit gravy”, which is a hideous white sauce that Americans eat with scones. I’m talking about a sauce made from meat juices to pour over a lovely Sunday roast you’ve probably spent all day cooking. I ran a quick questionnaire (well, a rant) about real gravy and the use of BISTO. I was HORRIFIED that lots of my followers indeed use BISTO instead of real gravy. Some argued it was “quicker” (not really true) some argued they didn’t know HOW. Needless to say I was asked how I make mine, so here I am.

You will need,

Flour (I use plain)
Boiling water (from the veg/potatoes or kettle)
Meat tin with juices.

Some people add an Oxo cube, I sometimes do for white meat juices, I find red meat is strong enough.

1) remove your meat and put the tin with the juices over a hot hob.

2) when the juices start to spit, add two tablespoons of flour and stir. This will form a lumpy paste.

3) waste no time and add your hot water, stirring continuously. The lumps will dissolve. Add as much water as you’d like (my husband likes thick gravy!). If you are crumbling in a stock cube, do it now.

4) keep it simmering and it’ll thicken as you’re dishing up the rest of the food.

Pour it and enjoy!

Me? A feminist? Yes, actually.

Posted on February 11, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

Feminism. Feminists. Feminazi. Blimey 3 years ago I would have snorted and said something along the lines of;

“Women have the vote what on earth do they want now?”. Then I grew up. I opened my big green eyes and took a look around.

Feminism is dressed up through the media. Usually using strong women who don’t and won’t conform to certain mannerisms that society expects of women. Women who don’t wish to remove their body hair, or don’t wish to have long hair, or women that decide make up isn’t important. Women who are far stronger than I am. This doesn’t MAKE a feminist, it doesn’t lay down the ground for women to conform to and if you wear make up or say wax your legs you can’t “be one”. Feminism, to me, is a set of ideologies that I am trying day by day to break. Ideologies set by the patriarchy. I don’t hate men. I’m not a lesbian. I don’t wear dungarees. I do however think that women get a pretty shit deal sometimes. I’m not talking about the right to vote, maternity leave or the equal pay saga. I’m talking about being allowed to be a women and just get on with it. Being allowed to not be exploited. Being allowed to walk down the street and not have my breasts ogled by several different men. You see women are exploited left, right and centre. Magazines, cat walks, television, make up counters and that’s without touching on the sex industry. The next misogynist to comment to me on Twitter and say any of the following will get a kick in the face;

“Women choose to go into the sex industry”.

“I know lots of prostitutes who enjoy what they do”.

“You can’t moan about women being exploited in the media if you BREASTFEED your children in public”.

Let’s talk about these three things, because it seems all the misogynists are quick enough to use it as some sort of weapon.

Women choose to go into the sex industry. Do they? Do they CHOOSE? Let’s change the scenario. Most washing powders and toothpastes and household cleaning items are owned by two companies. In the interest of not plugging them we’ll call them A and B. You go to the supermarket for washing powder and see 300 different types. 300 different names, 300 types of packaging, 300 catch lines, 300 adverts. All owned by one of two companies. You CHOOSE one of the 300. Have you chosen? Or has your choice been pre determined? Could you really have gotten around putting money in one of these two companies’ pockets? No you couldn’t. You THINK you’ve chosen, but really you’ve chosen an answer out of a set two you HAD to choose. This is similar to women. They “choose” to go into the sex industry. They are usually at the end of a drug and abuse trail. They have usually had an unsettled upbringing. They usually have huge debts or mouths to feed. They usually have the men in charge telling them they’ve made the right “choice”. Eventually she’ll catch an STD, or have an overdose, or be spiked, or be no good to the industry and be killed. Sometimes the women, when at the end of their (porn industry) working life, are SOLD to a group of men who abuse her until she dies. Men also PAY to watch this type of assault. Do you think she CHOSE to end up like this? Do you think growing up she said;

“When I grow up I want to get addicted to drugs, and be gang raped in order to make £200 to feed my son for a fortnight?”. Really? Don’t you see that the drug dependency ensures she goes back to what she’s doing? Some women are blackmailed with the films they have made that they’ll end up with their parents or their children. Some women die from internal injuries due to alien objects being used to penetrate them while they’re high on substances.

Some men (and women) like to call women that dislike the sex industry “prudes” and “denying sex workers a voice”. On the contrary. The few women that get out of the adult film industry have made documentaries, written books and articles and most are now working with charities to rescue women who are still there (because they “choose” to be). Rescue. Let that word sink in. Rescue. The word ESCAPE is banded about very often with these documentaries. Would they really ESCAPE from something they have chosen to do?! I think men make excuses for women in the sex industry because they gain from it, either financially or through sexual gratification and if you need to degrade a woman to get either then you’re a sick individual.

“I know lots of prostitutes who enjoy what they do”.

I find this very hard to believe. I’ve only ever seen a few (real life) prostitutes on a late night home. Women standing in the cold, in the dark and alone. Women who don’t look in the best of health. Women who are thin and exhausted, and usually high. Women who’ll HAGGLE what she’s worth (sexually) to make sure she makes some money. Women who end up raped and murdered. That’s ok though, right? She enjoys the sex. She deserves what she gets because she CHOOSES WHAT SHE DOES. She becomes devalued because she is a prostitute. Many of my male friends won’t let me get a taxi home alone after a night out, let alone stand on street corners for hours on end. So why do we find it acceptable that these women do it? Do you think she enjoys being sexually exploited because for reasons unknown to me, and beyond her control, has lead her to be so desperate that she has to sell her body to random passers by?

The media has a huge part to play in the dressing up of prostitution. The Secret Diary of a Call Girl, the books by Belle Du Jour and anonymous articles written by so called “high class escorts” have all glorified this industry. Making the men seem like the back bone of the country just wanting to get his leg over and the beautiful, highly paid, living in the life of luxury, 20 something year old being only too happy to oblige. Louis Vuitton bags, penthouses in Mayfair, clients who whisk them away for weekends away. Very nice.

It isn’t like this. The majority of prostitutes that work alone are usually substance abusers. The are usually abused and raped. They sometimes end up dead.

The minority (but still a large number) of prostitutes that work with a “pimp” are usually trafficked women. Sex slaves. Illegally smuggled into the country. Sometimes legally entering the UK on the premise of a job involving waitressing or au pairing, then finding out that no such job exists. The majority of pimps and brothel owners usually move in drug circles. Controlling the women with a mixture of blackmail (we’ll injure your family/children/tell your family what you do) or with substances (forcing them to take a highly addictive drug and offering it freely if they continue to work).

And you wonder why I won’t FIGHT for their RIGHT to stand on a street corner and sell THEIR body? SHAME on you for finding it acceptable for women to live like this.

“You can’t moan about women being exploited in the media if you BREASTFEED your children in public”.

Ah. This old gem. Mainly used by men, but alarmingly more and more women are using this excuse. It’s mainly connected to the likes of Page 3 (please visit #saynotopage3 on Twitter) the Daily Sport, FHM, Nuts and Zoo (etc). “Lads’ mags”. Lovely. The arguments go like this;

“Wimmin like you only hate page 3 because you’re jealous”.

I kid you not. The ones who have a grasp on the English language tend to say things like this;

“Women CHOOSE to do it, stop trying to control women”.

I think it’s clear to see that it isn’t me (or womankind) that is attempting to control women. It isn’t on OUR demand that these images keep cropping up. It isn’t WOMEN that keep these publications in business. It isn’t WOMEN who want to exploit women and the dirty seedy backgound that goes with these magazines.

“It’s just BOOBS, what is your problem?”

My problem is that I don’t wish to see breasts. I have my own should I need to re evaluate what it is they are. My problem is I don’t think everyone else in the supermarket needs to see breasts. My problem is this whole “glamour” (how ironic) imagery shouldn’t be celebrated. There is NOTHING glamorous about Stacey, 21 from York, baring her breasts on the front of a magazine because men aged between 18-42 need something to masturbate over. I do not wish for my children to see it. I don’t deem magazines like that to be appropriate for children.

“You BREASTFEED in public, that’s THE SAME THING”.

Now you don’t need me to tell you what the differences are.

In case you do, my sons don’t see me in lingerie with my back up against a wall sucking my finger. Not that I’m not sexually liberated, but that there are some things I don’t deem appropriate for children and soft porn is one of them. Breastfeeding, doesn’t involve me being stripped to the waist. It doesn’t involve me sitting with my back arched and my hands on my head. It involves me lifting one of my layered tops and feeding my baby and if YOU have a problem with my using my breasts to feed my child as INTENDED then I suggest YOU turn away. I can’t turn my (nearly) 3 year old away from newspaper stands as I fill up petrol. I can’t cover up 50 foot billboard advertisements.

I would. But I can’t. Times are changing. You don’t need to see women naked in newspapers anymore. Stop buying silly little rags and liberate these women to get on and do other things in their lives, they may “choose” what they do but usually when there is little else to “choose” from. You want to support women and claim you’re not a misogynist?

Don’t fight for the right for them to be exploited.

Book club! Pills, Thrills and Methadone Spills by Mr Dispenser

Posted on February 11, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

I very much enjoy to read. I’ve been in talks with a few authors recently about reading their books (which I buy myself) and review, and in turn they offer a free signed copy in order for me to give away as a prize. As I benefit in no way from this deal (the book could be rubbish after I’ve paid for it!) I have no reason to give a biased review!

First up Pills, Thrills and Methadone Spills by Mr Dispenser.

I knew Mr Dispenser from Twitter (@mrdispenser) a rather lovely chap, but also a pharmacist. He asked me to guest blog my side of the counter when visiting a pharmacy. Always one with an opinion I agreed and wrote a post, never expecting it to wind up in a published book (I missed a full stop on the last sentence on, ahem, page 81).

On receiving the manuscript I originally thought UGH BORING, this is a subject so unrelated to what a) I read and b) what I KNOW!

However I read it and laughed and snorted, like a pig. The book is compiled of tweets and blogs (short essays?) from customers and pharmacists alike. I shan’t ever be hanging about in a pharmacy again after reading some of the comments, not that I hang out in pharmacies. It’s entirely tongue in cheek but a very real view of what pharmacists deal with on a day to day basis. It’s extremely funny and very well put together. On the whole it was quite relatable however I found that some of it you had to be “in the know” (pharmacist or a hypochondriac) to fully appreciate it; here is an example, feel free to mock me if you “get it”;

Mis pronunciation

@mumgonecrazy Flufloxacillin.

I won’t pretend I know what that is or what it should have been. I probably say words like this quite often. In fact some of these anecdotes are probably ABOUT me. I’m not a dispenser, I don’t work in or as a chemist, I don’t have an advanced knowledge in the world of pharmaceuticals, however despite a few pages it didn’t really seem to matter, a good 95% of it is entirely relatable and I think the humour makes up for it.

An example of how the book redeems itself time and time again;

Mis pronunciation

@alkemist1912 I’m sure one of my older patients asks for Barry-shit-em-alls. (Paracetamol)

And

@otterpond ….”Anus-hole cream” for Anusol.

The longer posts involve anecdotes full of idiotic patients, idiotic pharmacy shop assistants, horrific children and stray bottles of urine. I didn’t find it was written with a mocking tone, more a general first hand account of what goes on, while it isn’t malicious and not intended to be, I think I’ll ensure I check my facts before I brave the pharmacy again! It comes as no surprise the author has remained anonymous.

It is cleverly written, funny and eye opening. I challenge you to read it and not feel like an utter prat the next time you happen to need a pharmacist.

Yeah, good luck with that.

You can buy Mr Dispenser’s book from Amazon. Or if you want to save yourself the best part of £4 I AM GIVING AWAY A SIGNED PAPER COPY! You can comment on this post and follow @mrdispenser on Twitter! Comment with whatever you feel is appropriate and I will draw on Wednesday 13th February 2013 (evening 9pm sharp).

Here are the links to where you can buy this book and read the guest post I did as an annoyed customer forever waiting for the pharmacist to fill a simple one item prescription! RAGE!

Buy it for Kindle

Or you can buy it here!

Paper copy

Ice cream in a bag!

Posted on February 10, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

Home made ice cream.

The idea of buggering about with ingredients and then buying an expensive bit of kit to churn it in bores me to tears. We rarely eat ice cream and I never buy it in, we tend to make our own ice lollies so I can keep an eye on the boys’ crap intake. However, my husband hates eating overly dry food. Everything has to have gravy, or peppercorn sauce or custard or cream. This drives me insane. I like and make, what he calls, dry food, which I don’t take as an insult. Much.

I digress.

We had apple crumble the other evening (HE did, I dislike anything puddinesque). The conversation went like this;

Dh: do we have any custard?

Me: I haven’t made any if that’s what you’re asking.

Dh: do we have any cream?

Me: no I used it in the carbonara you insisted was TOO DRY

Dh: do we have any ice cream?

Now this conversation took place in the kitchen where he can access the food stores.

We didn’t have any. Rather than make some, I made him eat it as it was. DRY AND ALL. I remember seeing Rachel Ray make an ice cream recipe without lots of stirring and an ice cream maker. I thought I’d share it with you. Mainly because I’m nice but also in case a PR person takes pity on the amount of shaking this takes and gives me a free one to review.

I digress.

This is basically an add it all in a bag, put it in a bag of ice and shake. As if by magic, ice cream is produced.

You will need;

1 large resealable freezer bag(one with the blue plastic line, what the Yanks call a ZipLoc).
1 normal size resealable sandwich bag (see above!)
350ml single cream
2 1/2 tablespoon of sugar (granulated)
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla essence (you can use rose essence to recreate Turkish delight!)
Ice cubes (I use handfuls until bag is full!)
100 grams of table salt

Add cream, sugar and vanilla/rose essence to small sandwich bag.

In large sandwich bag add ice and salt. The bag needs to fit the smaller bag with the cream in INSIDE it so make sure there’s room and you don’t fill it too high with ice.

Put the small bag inside the large bag and SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE until your arms feel like they’re going to drop off. Then shake some more. For about 5-6 minutes. Check to see if it’s solid, it should be but can depend on the temperate of your kitchen.

You CAN eat it out of the bag so it remains cold, if you’re going to do this, make sure you give the bags a rinse so there’s no excess salt near the opening. I’d personally tip it into a bowl.

All in all will take 10 minutes. Ideal for movie nights at home?

Holidaying with 2 aged 2 and under. Ironic word HOLIDAY.

Posted on February 5, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

Holidays. Breaks. Weekends away. They all sound divine and idyllic, until you throw to toddlers into the mix. I refuse to accept I’m the only one feeling apprehensive about taking babies on holiday for a length of time; I have friends who have ONE child (most of which are passed walking age) who are forever jetting off on small breaks. The difference between them and me are, a second child, self employment and my neurotic routines.

I have bit the bullet and booked a few holidays this year. I’d like to take the babies away before considering adding to our family. Holidaying with two babies will probably act as an extremely effective contraception, so that will stamp on those dreams I suspect.

The first is a camping trip to France. Sailing. An overnight crossing with two small children.

The second, Florida Disney hell. We’ll get to THAT little beauty later in the year.

The third, China in December. An old friend from boarding school is getting married. A 14 hour flight. Stopovers and all. Joy. Oh and jet lag.

We are fortunate in that our children have their own bedrooms at home. I am filled with an irrational fear at the prospect of leaving Portsmouth at 8pm (the babies go to bed at 6pm) and all of us being in ONE cabin. This means we’ll ALL have to go to bed. I have never experienced sleeping in the same room as the children and I don’t know how they’ll settle with the distraction of two other people in the room.

Should I take a potty while camping in case the toilet block is not so close? Will they wake up and try and escape? (Quite probable so I’ve bought a sensor alarm, the neighbours will thank me for this, I’m sure).

Do I have to talk to the Dutch, German and French neighbouring campers? Will there be naked people wandering about? Will they understand that Elijah calls everyone “FAT” because my husband and I stupidly nick named Isaiah “Fatty” when he was younger?

Where will I wash up? Will they provide a sweeping brush for the tent? Where will I wash cloth nappies? What if it rains the whole time, how will I dry cloth nappies? Will I gain 5 stone living on bread, Brie and Bolli? What if we get home and the house sitter has gone away and we’ve been burgled? I CANNOT HANDLE ALL THESE POSSIBLE SCENARIOS.

I must remember to send postcards the first day so they arrive!

You see the camping holiday came about as I wanted a cheap week away before the summer began, I wanted cheaper tickets than the summer holiday prices and I wanted a cooler temperature so my children wouldn’t boil to death. We’re quite fond of them. The children, well and cheap holidays. It worked out around £500 for the week, all in. Not too shabby. I’m not really a outside kind of girl. Don’t get me wrong I live in the countryside and we keep livestock and go on long walks and collect leaves…but I don’t take it seriously. My Hunters are black with gold sparkles. If my husband had his way we’d be in the hideous sleeping bag he has (it has arms, a very literal Michelin Man) under the stars. He’d sleep with a knife under his pillow, like Rambo. He’d walk 10 miles to make me wash in a freezing cold stream. I am happy to not have hair straighteners or a mirror; but I cannot sleep on a yoga mat. Or worse, the floor.

As usual the booking of the holiday was left up to me. So I booked a safari tent. Ooooo ahhhh. It has wooden floors, actual posted beds, electricity, fridges and wi fi. It’s still sleeping under canvas, the children can still escape.

I am uneasy. The last time I went camping I was 4, with two of my sisters. Cut a very long story short (you’re eating into my dinner party anecdotes now) one sister broke her neck diving into a pool and while my parents were at the hospital and I was in the care of my other sister, there was a small gas leak and the tent burned into the ground. Passports, clothes and all.

Now I have to be responsible for two children and a husband; ok 3 children. What if Elijah escapes? What if burglars get IN? Where do I leave money when we go out? What if I can’t handle roundabouts on the wrong side of the road?

I’m already a panicked mess and it’s 5 months before we go. I have already had thoughts of tying bells to Elijah’s shoe laces so I can hear him wandering. I toyed with the idea of giving him a whistle. That idea would wear thin very quickly.

Do you have any advice for me before I go? Something so when I come back I can thank you for keeping my sanity?

What if the ferry sinks?

Crafty ideas for toddlers.

Posted on February 3, 2013 by ContentedLittleMummy

Crafting. I do love a bit of crafting. I’m not especially very good at it, fabric craftiness aside, but the children enjoy it and that’s all that matters. With the snow and rain and floods we have had here in Pembrokeshire since Christmas* (*the beginning of time) I have been frantically trying to come up with ideas to entertain toddlers. Lots of you have toddlers, lots of you hate mess, so I have come up with some ideas to combat both. I haven’t taken my ideas from my bestie Claire (@ministryofmum) you’ll be glad to know; as she tells her children (and famously so) that the paints have “run out of batteries”.

Keeping toddlers entertained can be tiring. Having to uproot from where you are procrastinating and trek to the kitchen because you don’t want play dough, paints, chalk, felt tip, glitter and glue on your carpet, sofas, curtains, walls and hair. I would add delete as applicable but those of with toddlers understand that they all apply.

The way my house is set out (I am about to demolish a wall) my kitchen and sitting room are quite a walk from each other. When preparing supper I like to have the babies in the kitchen so I can keep a eye on them. Understandably (Elijah was colouring Henry, our white dog, in red wax crayon yesterday).

Sitting at the table often results in, emptying the cupboards, weeing in the seat (the children not you) knocking over drinks and eating fruit they have access to. A while ago I came across a superb idea.

Fill a poly pocket with paint. Stick the poly pocket to the table using duck tape so that the opening of the poly pocket is stuck (securely) down. This allows the child to squidge the paint through the plastic without getting covered in paint. Or worse, ruining your table. This gives you ample to time to hide in the pantry and drink gin. I am of course joking. Am I? This little technique also works with sticking the poly pocket to a window. Probably not to a car window. Not if they open it and the tape comes off and the wind blows the paint in.

If you are going to use glitter glue, then good for you, you’re a braver parent than I. Try adding the glitter to PVA before letting your toddler loose on it, this should prevent glitter sticking to you eyelashes and tip of your nose for the rest of eternity.

If you have a washing line and it isn’t raining, buy a cheap roll of paper and hang it on the line giving your child free reign with paint and a brush. Watch child from inside French window.

Put the toddler IN the bath, in a nappy/pants/nekked and give them some water soluble paint or bath crayons and let them draw while you’re cleaning the bathroom. Or just put them in there if you want a sit down and read your book. In the bathroom obviously, I wouldn’t suggest buggering off to Starbucks while little Timmy is sat there drawing, what he claims to be, nanny and grandad.

One summer trick I did last year was to fill a large Tupperware tub full of water (you can pop some food colouring in for effect) and drop in some small toys (I used Elijah’s Playmobil men). Pop it into the freezer. Once frozen give it to them outside with tools (Elijah has a plastic tool set) and let them chip away at it to free the toys. It kept him busy for ages. I didn’t take photos but have found one, from an American, similar on Pinterest.

If you hate that kind of “crafty stuff” there’s other types.

You can buy cupcake mixes from the supermarket, I know off the top of my head a Peppa Pig one and Fireman Sam. I don’t think they’re expensive, perhaps £1.20 for 6-8 cakes. Depending on your patience you can allow your child to help mix* (*eat) the mixture, OR you can make them while cooking supper so they are cooled and ready to ice and decorate the next day. If your child is a fussy eater you can subsequently use the cake as bribery.

Failing that there’s always dress up? Or just put CBeebies on and play on Twitter.

contentedlittlemummy

Parenting, home style, cooking & crafting