Back to Bad Hair Corners

Not quite sure how to start my first blog post of 2013. Shall I speak of the multitudinous empty chocolate wrappers haunting my memory and - more importantly -  my hips? Or of the insanely colourful and annoyingly noisy large plastic toys which now adorn every aspect of my home? Or, perhaps, of the tax return aching to be done in time to avoid an evil late-filing penalty? No, I shall tell you I had a wonderfully warm and cosy Christmas followed by a simple, at-home New Year. All was well. All is well. And things are looking good for 2013.

Big Tot was back at school today. Thank. The. Lord. And the teachers, of course.

I must admit, we have had a lovely time together over the festive season. We have indulged in 'Despicable Me' to the point of being able to quote 97% of the script. We've joyfully snubbed the chocolate laws of our household. And we've invented a game called 'Christmas pile-on' which generally involves holding Mummy down and decorating her with all available festive trimmings from our 75p tree.

Our favourite moment in Despicable Me

And we've also had a few surprise circumstances which left me with a challenge or two to endure. Lack of car to name but one (the Punto shunned its MOT requirements, the cheeky, obstinate little thing). Lack of hubby to name but another (he's holding down two jobs, bless him, both with many, many extra festive hours). So for the most part, I've been house-bound and child-bound and looking, always, for ways to see the bright side.

Luckily, I have two partners in crime when it comes to optimism-seeking. It may not always appear so. For I am fully aware of what percentage of my time is spent avoiding or enduring or helplessly observing tantrums. Little Tot is nearly twenty months old now and rapidly approaching that unique point in his life when he is not just allowed but expected to be terrible. And let's not forget he is learning from the Master. Big Tot still refuses to relinquish the Crown but is astoundingly generous when it comes to teaching the ways of the tantrum.

But despite all of that, my Tots know how to shine a big old light on the dark moments. Or even just the busy, stressed, not-in-the-moment moments. Just the other day I was stepping / tripping through the living room / toy apocalypse, striving to put a wash on, tidy up, cook dinner, run a bath, change a DVD, scrape up play dough, wipe off snot etc etc and Big Tot shouted a question at me. I tried one of my non-committal nods and hoped he'd back off but, hey, I should know by now he has no concept of how to politely treat impolite grown-ups. And he shouted the same question again.

"Why does it?"

I stopped, washing basket in-hand, Little Tot at-leg and asked with a sigh, "Why does what, do what sweetie?"

"Why does that toy say 'Back to bad hair corners'?"

"I have no idea sweetie. Now I have to go and . . . "

"Mummy! Whyyeeeee?"

"Sweetheart, I have to go and put this washing in the machine and then I will come and see you . . . "

"But whyeeeeee? Why does it say 'Back to bad hair corners'?"

By this time Little Tot had wrestled down the washing basket and was frolicking in his own dirty clothes. Big Tot was wide-eyed and earnest and giving me his full on I-want-an-answer-right-now-or-I'm-going-to-tell-everyone-what-a-crap-mummy-you-are attitude. And it's during these times I know there is no turning back. I choose to invest in the moment. I choose to dive entirely into Big Tot's world and treat it with the importance he so constantly works to convince me of. So I knelt down, rearranged my face into a look of eager curiosity and I listened.

"Now, what are you asking me. Please ask me again."

"Why does that toy say . . . 'Back. To. Bad. Hair. Cornerrrrrs'?" I tried to ignore that he was - at four years old - employing that tone of voice usually reserved for teenagers who want to imply their parents are the most stupid beings ever to inhabit the earth.

I looked down his pointed finger and across the room, to the offending toy. And that's when, with a rising surge of laughter and an inexplicable, immediate need to hug my son, it clicked. It was a talking, Fisher Price Batmobile.

I walked over to it, picked it up and returned it to Big Tot. He gingerly pressed the cute mini Batman to a resounding, clarifying, growling voice: "Back to Bat Headquarters."

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how a child can bring you back to the moment.


Have fun in 2013!

Abi


Find out how to live in the moment more often with your children AND tackle discipline too!
Just visit www.thecoolrulecompany.co.uk

In Search of Supernanny

Please forgive me if I need to prop up my aching feet. Or if I need to rapidly replenish my hydration levels. Big Tot might be feeling the strain too because he's been my loyal companion on this epic journey. I didn't realise the two of us we were capable of travelling such a distance or bearing such a heavy load. And the journey, although long and winding and perilous and tough, is not yet finished.

So, just to recap, we started our adventure in the humblest of places, our living room. It was Saturday morning, the only time of the week when Mummy gets the monopoly on the telly. Supernanny was on. My absolute favourite. I'd set up my little arrangement of cushions, a cuppa, the remote and explicitly warned the Tots that Mummy was not to be relied on for anything for the next hour. Ironic that the only time I spend  ignoring my children is when I'm avidly watching a parenting guru, but such is life.

Big Tot and I had spent the first ten minutes having our usual argument about why Pokemon was strangely vacant from this morning's viewing. And I had the subtitles flashing away so I could at least read what was going on even if I couldn't hear it. And that's when inspiration struck me. I needed Supernanny's help.

And not in the way you might imagine. I wasn't yet desperate enough to make the emergency plea for Supernanny's parenting expertise as I could shamelessly swindle that off the telly. I needed her words. Her trusted, expert, dependable words. I needed her to endorse the Cool Rule Book.

Now I know my gorgeous, photo book creation is the answer to every parent's dreams. And the parents who've already bought it know that too. But the people who have not bought it, and have a rather demanding yet very wonderful toddler at home, need to know it too, don't they?

And that's where Supernanny could help. Or Jo Frost as she is more formally known. If only I could send her a copy of the Cool Rule Book, then surely she would be happy to emblazon it with some kind of statement of total admiration. Something along the lines of 'every family needs one'. Not too much to ask, is it?

Anyway, that's how the journey started. I leapt up from my cushioned arrangement, fuelled by my motivation to find Supernanny. Big Tot got carried away with it all ("I'm going to win! I'm going to find Supernanny before you!") and we began travelling the globe via the magic of the internet.

Was she in England doing her extreme parental guidance? No! Was she in Beverly Hills where oddly enough she seems to have an agent? No! Did her Twitter fan page have any idea? No! Did her website give anything away? Of course not! Where the flip was she?

And that's when we stopped for snacks. Refueling was important.

Did her Facebook page even belong to her? It appeared not! Hang on, what was that? That flashy pop-up type thing which Big Tot insisted might be a new season of Angry Birds. That was no angry bird. That was Jo Frost herself insisting that I come along to her brand new show which was - wait for it - live! Oh yes, we wanted to go, we wanted to go. Big Tot was going to take his plastic motorbike and I was going the take the Cool Rule Book and it was going to be a perfect end to a perfect adventure. Where was it?

Oh, er . . . Australia.

And that's when we stopped for more snacks. And more or less put the whole journey on hold.  No point bothering her Down Under now, was there? Surely it could wait until she returned. Now I just have to figure out where, exactly, she will return to.

And can you believe Little Tot missed out on all of this? He'd been on an adventure with far crazier heights and more extreme thrills than we could have imagined. Because scaling furniture is exciting stuff when you're fifteen months old. Maybe next time we'll join him.

But I'm not giving up on Supernanny. Not that easily.

Go well everyone,

Abi


Find out how brilliant The Cool Rule Book is before Supernanny does at www.thecoolrulecompany.co.uk and celebrate happy living with your little one today!

Secret Tactics

So the other day I was casually flipping through the family calendar when I realised something that made me very cross. I realised that if you count the days from when Big Tot had his last day at nursery right up to when he starts going to 'big' school he is actually off for seven, not the widely presumed six, weeks for summer.

Seven weeks. That's forty-nine days. And that was enough to make me feel momentarily sick. It was a proper lump-in-the-throat, rapid-heart-beating, fiery cheeks kind of moment. How was I supposed to keep this going for seven weeks? No holidays planned. A dwindling overdraft. Two Tots expecting near miracles from me every single day for forty nine days? How could I find a number for the complaints hotline at the local education authority?

I peered into the living room at the Tots. Big Tot was lying under a blanket on the sofa playing with an electronic alphabet game and making loud, over-enthusiastic vowel sounds. Little Tot was making a dash for it into the garden of delights. Those delights being muck, muck, water and muck. Truth be known, they didn't seem to having such a bad time.

But what about me? Am I having such a bad time? Apart from my reaction to the the six week cover-up scandal, Is my summer really going that badly? Of course it isn't. Here I am, lucky enough to have a huge wedge of quality time to spend with my Tots, and a new business I can weave around full-time kiddy care. Things could be a lot worse.

Honestly speaking though, the summer holidays can be intense. There are times when I truly am out of resources, ideas and that mythical stuff called energy. I have secret tactics though. And they are lovely and life-affirming. Oh yes. My secret tactics totally rock.

And the best thing about these secret tactics is that if you are a parent, you probably do them anyway, without even knowing. But if you can become more aware of them, and practice them regularly, then things really do start to change.

Live In The Moment
You've seen your toddler do it. The total concentration on a snail's slimy movements or the unwavering dedication to the pages of their favourite storybook. Even the screaming meltdown in the sweetie aisle at a supermarket. Toddlers are experts at living in the now. So sometimes I get to it. I could be breathing in the sweet, just-washed scent of Little Tot's hair (even if he's whinging for his supper) or suddenly be in awe of the soft, reassuring grip of Big Tot's hand in mine as we cross a road. I have even mastered mindful nappy-changing. Oh yes. By being so committed to Little Tot and his gorgeous, dimpled bottom no other part of it bothers me. Living in the moment happily discards anything else that might be bothering you.

This too, will pass
I don't know who first coined this phrase, but when I first heard it, and related it to being a parent, it rocked my world. Sometimes it's a beautifully encouraging phrase. My child will stop being such a fussy eater one day. Soon my child will have have their hair washed without sobbing. But it can have a ring of sadness to it too. Perhaps one day my child won't want morning kisses. What if my child decides she doesn't want storytime before bed? But for me, just knowing, without a shadow of a doubt that 'this too, will pass' helps me to focus on the now, indulge in it, be grateful for it and embrace the ever-changing nature of this life we live. And here's hoping the Tots pick that up too.

Sit and smile
I'm loving this one. I read about it in Elizabeth Gilbert's 'Eat Pray Love' where she zips off to Bali, anticipating some mysterious lessons in meditation and actually just gets told to 'sit and smile'. You do run the risk of appearing to be a loon, mind you. As I well know. I have been known to sit and smile whilst Big Tot is having a meltdown on a naughty spot I have created in a supermarket. Or sitting and smiling whilst rocking a screaming Little Tot's buggy in a busy shopping centre. The possibilities are endless and the outcome is that you usually feel at least a teensy bit calmer, or at least able to find a funny side. Can't be bad, can it?

So there's three of my secret tactics. Why not go for a cocktail of them all? It's the only kind of cocktail I seem to be able to get my hands on these days. And I have to admit the high I've got from practicing these beats any Raspberry Mojito anyway.

So, with all of that in mind, I will press on through these summer holidays no matter how many days I may ultimately be faced with. The local Education Authority can breathe easy for now as I shall not be making that complaint after all. Not this year, anyway.

Go well,

Abi

Visit my site to find The Cool Rule Book - a tip top way to celebrate all that is cool with your toddler as well as getting to grips with discipline: www.thecoolrulecompany.co.uk

For more on 'living in the now', try 'The Power of Now' by Eckhart Tolle, available on Amazon
For more of 'this too, will pass', try 'The Illuminated Rumi' by Jalal Al-Din Rumi, available on Amazon
For more of 'sitting and smiling', try 'Eat, Pray Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert, available on Amazon

Olympic-Stylee

It's here folks. It's finally here. No, no, not the Olympics. You may think Michelle Obama is travelling to the UK for this Friday's opening ceremony. And she may think so too, but she hasn't yet heard about The Cool Rule Company and when she does she might just rethink her schedule.

I mean the build-up's been second to none. A whole year of dramatic events. Let's take a re-cap:

• Highly-strung three-year old (Big Tot) spins his tantrums into whole new orbit when his baby brother (Little Tot) comes along

• In a final act of desperation the exhausted, exasperated parents involve Big Tot in making a scrapbook of rules, consequences and photos of his world

• Said scrapbook adapts nickname of 'The Cool Rule Book' and becomes Big Tot's favourite thing (apart from Super Mario)

• Exhausted, exasperated parents become slightly less so

• Said scrapbook becomes aid to celebrate everything Big Tot can do well and a tool to help him learn what else is expected of him

• Said scrapbook attracts 'oohs' and 'aahs' from other equally exhausted parents

• Feeling all entrepreneurial, slightly-less-exhausted-mum shamelessly wrings dry all of the business support offered by local enterprise agency

• Wringing-dry of babysitting favours also occurs

• Blogging begins

• Business planning begins

• Slightly-less-exhausted-mum creates prototypes for other tots and runs a trial across the country

• Highly dramatised logo saga begins

• Trial gets outstanding results and indicates slightly-less-exhausted-mum should really take this idea to market

• Business planning nearly kills slightly-less-exhausted-mum (who is now exhausted again)

• Highly dramatised logo saga ends with very cool logo (energy restored)

• Overdraft is feeling the strain but slightly-less-exhausted-mum ignores it

• Business planning finished

• Website launched to the world

• Celebratory hot chocolate / wine / anything consumable to hand

And there we have it. The Cool Rule Company is officially up and running (Olympic-stylee) and ready for business.

The Cool Rule Book is my first flagship product. It is a gorgeous, glossy little book and it can transform the life you lead with your toddler. Honestly. It's that good.

It includes twenty-seven rules written with love and humour as well as spaces for your own personal rules. When you add photos of things your child will recognise, it becomes all the more meaningful. The categories cover all aspects of a child's life before school and are followed up by spaces for your own consequences of what happens when your child follows or breaks the rules.

The website tells you loads more (www.thecoolrulecompany.co.uk) and you can have a wee peep at some of the pages. It comes as a Standard Pack (with a special guide for the parents to get the most out of the book) or as a Bumper Pack (with the special guide as well as everything else you need to get started).

May I say you've been most patient over the last few months, as I have point-blank refused to reveal what my business venture has been all about. But now you know. And I hope you keep up with the Cool Rule Antics as they develop. And develop they will my friends. Develop they will.

Go Well,

Abi