What's your favourite movie?

I am a movie anorak.

It drives my husband nuts. But I don't care because I love the movies and have done since I was taken to see Robin Hood (the Walt Disney cartoon version) as a child at the Odeon cinema in town.
It had a fabulous blood red carpet stretching throughout the entrance, with marble and gold decoration and the most magnificent auditorium. The huge screen was hidden behind deep green and gold curtains and it felt like the most magical place on earth to me.

THAT is how profound an effect the cinema had on me - I remember every detail.

I queued to watch ET in the rain (remember queuing!), I saw Close Encounters at a 'wrap around screen' cinema, I was one of the first to see Jurassic Park and I've seen everything that has come out of the Pixar studios.

And now my son is following in my footsteps.
It's our 'thing'. We do the movies together.

He will happily take me to see Harry Potter, Iron Man and all things superhero.
We have 'movie afternoons' where we make a den on the sofa with a bucket of popcorn and watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or Iron Giant or The X-Men and we pick holes in the plot or point out silly things that would never happen or how we would have done it different if we were directing.
He's going to be a geek just like mummy and I'm so proud!

I was thinking about this because Tom at Turf Dad hosts a Friday Film Favourite every week and I've been over there ribbing him about his choices, but secretly I'm all ooo and ahh and he shot up in my estimation when he picked Little Shop of Horrors one week!

Then Urban Panther took part in a contest where you had to list your favourite movies and she was all drooling over Vin Diesel (who knew!) and I was going through the comments sucking up what everyone was listing as their favourites and doing that 'no no no' in my head.

And then, Writer Dad started Tweeting about the trailer for the movie version of one of our favourite children's books, Where The Wild Things Are and I got all a dither.
So Dan and I sat and watched it together this afternoon on the computer and it was like our little secret for us to get all excited about.

Daddy has him for rugby and cricket and fighting on the bed.
We have our movies.

So, here is my question to you: what is your favourite movie/movies?

Yes, I know this is an almost impossible question. I couldn't possible choose. I have favourite movies for the mood I'm in and if I had to make a list I would probably agonise over it for like a week and then change it again and then get all upset when someone mentioned another film I love and I missed it out.

Anyway, I'm not a film snob. I don't think Citizen Kane was the best thing committed to print, nor do I go all pretentious when someone mentions The Godfather.
I like to be entertained, I like to 'feel' something and I like anything with Hugh Jackman in. Except Van Helsing, that was bloody rubbish.

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Do you smack/spank?

As I was making the really tough decision between buying fresh corn on the cob or broccoli for tea at our local supermarket one summer afternoon, I was jolted from my daydream by an angry mum berating her daughter.

The girl would have been no more than 7 and the mum no more than a girl.
She was clearly at the end of her tether and, while holding her daughter firmly by the wrist, she shouted "I've had enough of this. You've pushed me too far."
She had a wobble in her voice, but her face was red with rage. Then she slapped the back of her little girl's bare legs. Quite hard.

I winced.
Sure, I've been in that situation where I've been driven mad and anger is boiling up inside me like some raging volcano about to erupt.
But I have never hit either of my children in public.
In fact, I have never hit either of my children in private either.

I know this is a thorny issue. Some parents feel a smack is OK as long as it's controlled and not done in anger. Some feel that a quick spank will shock them into stopping their naughty behaviour long enough to listen and understand.

I was reading a post over at Ravings of a Mad Housewife on this subject recently and mums' comments ranged from "I totally believe in a spank as a last resort" to "we totally believe in spanking: it's a must for small children" and even "spank if they are doing something dangerous".

For the record, no form of hitting will ever be used as discipline in this house.
It's just not for us.
I have used a miriad of techniques to bring my two into line when they misbehave. Timeouts and stickers worked a dream for my son. His little sister, not so much. She was far far more challenging and required some creative thinking!
Above all else, consistency is the key and it has worked for us.

Call me soft but I don't want my children to grow up believing that hitting - in any way shape or form - is the answer when things aren't going your way.

Plus, the look on that little girl's face when her mum slapped her for all to see was heartbreaking and the thought of either of my children ever looking at me that way would be too upsetting.

I would really like to hear your thoughts on, what I know is a very sensitive issue.

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Motherhood: The truth

When I discovered I was a mother to be I decided that knowledge was power.

I devoured every book I could lay my hands on which dealt with the subject.
I read information books, expert books, funny books, I talked to friends, I talked to relatives and I would watch each and every programme on parenting that eeked it's way out of my TV screen.
I sucked up information like a dried out sponge and I took each and every snippet in and stored it in my internal parent-to-be hard drive.

Unfortunately back then I hadn't discovered blogs or blogging. I didn't know such a thing existed.

I can now safely say that 'mummy' bloggers are the best read if you are expecting a baby.

In the year I have been reading them I have seen more raw honesty, plain speaking and home truths than I ever saw in a shelf-full of help books.

And just recently I have read a couple that really made me sit up and think 'now THIS is what blogging is about. This is what I should have been reading 7 years ago'.

There is something quite beautiful in the heartwrenching honesty of a mother sharing her darkest moments or her worst fears. There are no sanitised words - just the truth about real mums and their experiences and THAT is what we should be encouraged to read when we're heavy with child.

I was thinking about my new found bloggy friend Metropolitan Mum, who is expecting her first child any day now, and how lucky she is to have found the path to blogsville and how much richer it will make her life as a new mum.

So, here are a few posts that I have read recently and just made me think wow.
They don't make easy reading, but they do make me proud to be part of this online community.

Breastfeeding: What they don't tell you.
Nursing mum Catherine ,who writes at Her Bad Mother, recently breastfeed another woman's baby.
That's right, she breastfed another woman's baby.
Shocking I know and, while I'd like to think I could do that for a mum in need, I struggled with the question 'what would I have done?'
But far more shocking was the backlash she received from an outraged onlooker. Check out the comments section. Rivetting stuff.

"What I do with my boobs - what any mother does to ensure that her baby gets fed - is none of your business . . . your public expression of disgust and alarm hurts. It reinforces the idea that breasts and breastfeeding hover on the very razor's edge of shamefulness, that these things on our chests are somehow, in some way, dirty and icky and bad."

Depression: Not the version your mother ever told you about
New blogger More than Just a Mother is so upbeat and fun that it's hard to believe she suffered with depression. But boy did she. And boy did she write about it elloquently and honestly.
A beautifully haunting post that must have been so very hard to write, but we should all be so thankful she did.

"Far worse than my indecision and inertia was how I felt towards my new babies. Or more accurately, the way I didn't feel. Oh, I'd have rescued them from a burning building, but I didn't love them. I didn't feel a connection with them in the way I knew I should; in the way I felt with my other children."

A tale of survival
Anyone who reads Jen at Steenky Bee on a regular basis will know she's a bit of a loon. In fact, she's such a loon she totally won't take offence at being called a loon (I hope!)
So when she wrote a post about her life before children and the destructive and abusive relationship she managed to escape, my chin hit the floor.
Beautifully written as a letter to her daughter, it's utterly captivating and actually made me punch the air and think 'you go girl' - and that is SO not like me.

"Reesie-girl, I hope you know that as you grow older, you can always talk to me about anything. I will always listen with open ears, and open mind, but more importantly, an open heart. Don’t be like me. Don’t be ashamed, embarrassed, scared"

The real face of bullying
We hear all kinds of whys and wherefores about children being bullied in school and what we should do and what we shouldn't do, but when Vodka Mom wrote this short piece about her boy being picked on it really hit a nerve.

"Then, after you are asleep and the worries of the day are wiped away, I will pray that God gives you the strength that you will need to navigate your way through what will surely be painful and difficult teen years."

Did you read everything you could when you were pregnant, or did you opt to go with the flow?

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Wordless Wednesday: I can explain, really I can. Ok, I can't

My daughter has outgrown her bed.

Her terrible mother has left it too long to find her a 'grown up girl' bed and now it's on order and it's going to be another 28 days.

This is how she now spends most nights.

She's actually fast asleep in this picture. I've also found her in a heap on the floor with a pile of blankets and toys randomly pulled on top of her and she was once actually asleep in the doorway, like she'd tried to come tell me how poor her sleeping arrangements are but was so tired she fell back to sleep as she stepped outside the door.

Yes yes, I feel suitably rubbish.

For more Wordless Wednesdays from around the blogosphere visit 5 Minutes for Mum.

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Review: Nothing brings on stress like a 3 year old discovering make up for the first time

In the morning, while I touch up with a soupcon of make-up to wake my tired face up, my little girl sits on the bed beside me with her eyes wide with fascination.

She doesn't move a muscle, or breathe it seems. She is utterly engrossed.

This is not good.

My little girl is mischievious. My little girl is a minx. My little girl is going to grab that mascara on the first opportunity she gets and either end up with it coating her eyeballs or her bedclothes. Or even the cat if it stands still for too long.

For the past few months she has sat there in quiet wonder as mummy applies these marvellous concoctions (and mummy is a bit of a product junkie so she has LOTS), patiently taking in every stroke of the brush with her little mouth dropped open in that vacant stare of the thoroughly intrigued.

We once visited a friend's house and Mia and her 5-year-old daughter disappeared upstairs only to return 20 minutes later desperate to show us their 'make over'.
Mia had lipstick on her eyelids, glitter in her ears and nail varnish painted onto her little cheeks like some crazy version of blusher.

I have no problem with her experimenting - while I'm there. My only worry is that she has super sensitive skin so I have to be careful, but I tend to opt for natural goodies anyway (don't even get me started on how excited I can get over a pot of Neal's Yard cream or a Liz Earle cleanser) so I'm happy for her to join in.
Well sort of. If she gets her big ole fists in my giant pot of expensive goo I'm not so impressed.

Anyway, I was asked if I would test out a bag of Aveeno goodies (creams that contain 'naturally active ingredients' and harness the power of oatmeal to banish dry skin - I'm a product junkie remember, I buy into this stuff) and I thought it was a perfect opportunity to get Mia to join in and review them too.

No sooner had I said "fancy testing these for me honey?" she had whipped that lid off and had a blob in her hand the size of, well her hand, and was slicking it on her bare legs.

I say "what does it smell of?"
"My hands."

"Does it feel nice?"
"Feels like mud."

"Is it sinking into your skin?"
"Errrr" (it is now in her hair, up her nose and there is a blob hanging off her earlobe).

"Do you like it?"
She took it to bed, thew out the teddy and jewellery that have recently taken up residence under her pillow and went to sleep with that tube wedged under her head.

Sold.

I've been using the cream on my hands most mornings and I have to say it's a winner.
I got to use what was left of the Daily Mositurising Cream after a shower tonight and, unlike my daughter, managed to not get it in my hair and up my nose.
Plus it's not the slightest bit oily and really does lock that moisture in. Could be a keeper. Looks pretty good on the bathroom shelf too. Oh and husband approved.

I have also been sent a packet of Bath Powder which I would dearly love to use, but as I haven't had a bath since about 2004 (having a small child offer to scrub you does not a relaxing bath make) I may have to wait to enjoy that one.

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My son breaks my heart

"Tell me the truth mummy, if I wish on a star will it come true?"

"What's the point in me ever having a girlfriend? I give all my love to you."

"When I grow up, do I have to move out? Well can I live right next door and come round to see you every day?"

"Can you kiss me here mummy?" (about 50 yards from the school gate). "I do still love you. You can still come up to the fence and wave if you want."

"Don't tell anyone I've been crying you mummy. Can it just be our secret?"

"Mummy, I'm a grown up now. I want to wear boxer shorts. I don't want to wear pants anymore."

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Are you a blogoholic? And the awards.

How many of you have been engaged in a conversation, or taking a photograph, or doing something totally mundane and thought to yourself 'I must blog about that?'

Bee posted a question on the British Mummy Bloggers website asking 'Is your blogging habit threatening to swamp your life?' and comments ranged from 'my husband got particularly narked when the ironing pile was almost as big as the four-year-old' to this from Mothership which actually made me laugh out loud: 'Husband told me I loved the internet more than him the other day. There was a very awkward silence when I didn't deny it immediately!'

Hells bells, I thought, are we really all that bad? Has it really taken control of our lives?
Everyone knows how addictive blogging can become. You get sucked into that community and it's hard to find time to put your head above water to breath.

I have seen a few bloggers make the decision to step back and give family life more attention and put their blogging on the backburner for a while.
But you absolutely know they want to come back. They feel drawn to step back in to that big ole circle of 'friends' and say 'hi' once again.

It can become a rather negative thing when partners feel neglected, children only see the back of mummy or daddy's head as they tippy tap away on the keyboard and you're more interested in writing a new post than sitting with a bag of Maltesers and a cup of tea while watching Heroes. Ok, that NEVER happens in this house, but you get the picture.

But there are positive things about blogging and being part of this writing community.
In the year that I have been posting I have come across many people for whom blogging is a help. Comments actually brighten their day. Writing is somehow cathartic.
They need comfort or help and their blogging buddies give it to them.

Some struggle with ill health, some are coming to terms with grief, some have lost their job, and some just struggle with life itself.
Some just need the connection. Some need support. Some just want someone to listen.
How wonderful that we can offer that with a visit or a simple comment or a follow. We can bring a ray of sunshine to people all over the world from the comfort of our office chair/sofa/bed.

And so, it is in that vein that I would like to hand out this award to a bunch of folk who, for one reason or another, would I think appreciate a visit.
If you want to pass it on, great, if not just enjoy and put it in pride of place next to your 50m swimming badge.

More Than Just A Mother negotiates life with a triple buggy and is really funny. I mean really funny. She's also revealed things that have had me tearing up while reading the computer screen and that's some mean feat.
Wahm-Bam has just revealed to all that she is pregnant with baby 2 and needs a big ole cyber hug.
Clark Kent's Lunchbox is training to become a teacher! He's such a lovely chap (plus he's got 5 children so he's got to have picked up a few lessons there) but I know he's slightly nervous about it. Superman as a teacher? What child isn't going to just love him?
Turf Dad lost his job and I'm sat here in England WILLING him to get another because he's such a lovely chap and he doesn't mind when I go over to his place and tell him the movies he recommends every week are pants.
Blogger Dad is another really talented person who lost his job and is such a hard worker and such a nice person and never ever comments when I make his life difficult over at Blog To Fit where we collaborate/call each other names.
The absolutely lovely A Confused Take That Fan who has had me wishing I lived close by so I can race round a dole out plentiful hugs when she is low.
Potty Mummy for her valiant battle with potty training. I don't mean to laugh, but ye gods come on that boy!
Reasons to be Cheerful 1, 2, 3 has moved to the Midlands from her beloved Yorkshire and is finding it hard.
Kirsty at My Life for the World to See because her little girl has recently had surgery and if you could see the photo of her in her hospital bed you would want to rush over there and hug hug hug.
And fianlly to Home Office Mum who needs all support she can get as she is leaving on the most amazing adventure to sail 5,200 nautical miles to Brazil as part of a Round the World Clipper Race - while leaving her hubby and two young sons behind. Give her your support, give her your money (£2 is all she's angling for. £2. That's like 3 chocolate bars. She could actually be helping you if you donate . . . ). Go visit her at More to Life Than Laundry.

And of course, the question remains: are you a blogoholic?

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The Sticky approach to memes

Today I am being interviewed over at MyChild today in their series on mummy bloggers.
There is an actual picture of me too, without two children trying to steal the limelight and edge me out of the frame!
Go visit. Be kind.

Also I should take this time to catch up on the awards that have so generously been given to me (**whisper** and I've neglected for something like a month. Or more. Don't worry, I am suitably embarassed/sorry).

So from A Confused Take That Fan and Wahm Bam I have been given this award which is all about friendships and building bridges across blogopolis and oh boy have I ever discovered this one to be true.

Ihave never felt closer to a bunch of men and women I have never met than when I am online and chit chatting away to you all. In case you haven't been told enough already, you guys are awesome and even on those days when you don't feel it, you are helping make this whole blogging community one hell of a place to hang out.

Then from 39 and Counting and notSupermum I received this sisterhood award which makes me feel really guilty as they were handed over to me at the end of January/beginning of February and I'm only just showing my gratitude.

I swear to you both, I've been really really busy setting up my home business but I didn't once forget about you.
Also notSupermum, I've been on this no refined sugar thing for Lent and it's sent me a bit doolally and even though it's only been a week, it feels like a month, so time is totally being distorted in my house.

I'm supposed to pass these on to like a million people, but as alway I'm bucking the system and doing my own thang.

I am combining both these awards and making one of my own. Next week I will be giving them away.
You don't need to pass it on. Just display it with pride on your mantlepiece. Or your downstairs loo. I won't be offended.
And I'm giving it out in an Oscar-stylee.

Note: I will probably be wearing really boring jeans and a top, but if you could just imagine gorgeousness, glitter and something else beginning with 'g' I would be very grateful.

See you next week, when all will be revealed. x

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Adoration

My little girl adores her older brother.

I mean she A D O R E S him.

When I dress her in the morning and I have a sweet, girlie outfit all laid out for her, she hugs me tightly then pulls back and says: "it's very nice mummy, but I want to look like Daniel" and so once again she leaves the house in jeans and trainers.

The last time she cut her hair (yes, there have been more than one hair cutting incident) and I implore "Mia, why would you do that honey?" she says with heartbreaking honesty: "I just want to look like Daniel."

Every morning, as soon as she opens her eyes and realises it's morning, she trots into her brother's bedroom, climbs into bed with him and they sit there side by side.

He's usually playing on his Nintendo DS or drawing or writing a letter.

She lies there next to him, head resting on his arm, watching intently, lovingly at whatever it is he is occupying himself with.

It is a joy to watch.

Sure they argue and fight and tease one another. But even those times are loaded with love.

I'm sure it's every parent's silent prayer that as their children grow they will remain close and become the best of friends in adulthood.
It doesn't always turn out that way and there is no way of controlling what happens at they jump headlong into their teens and start to go their seperate ways.

All I can do it lay the foundations, show them that the love of a sibling is a wonderful thing to cherish and keep my fingers crossed.

But at the moment I couldn't be more proud of the way they interact.

Daniel is already an excellent confidence booster for her.

As they were playing in his room one morning, she came bursting into our room all gushing and excitable - and quite bizarrely for 9am, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a denim jacket.

They had been playing dress up and as she was strutting her stuff, Daniel said to her: "You are such a groovy chick, Mia!"

Her head swelling and keen to tell mummy that Dan's thinks she's the bee's knees, she bursts in and announces: "Mummy, mummy, Daniel thinks I'm a groovy chicken!"

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