Some parents are so relaxed they're practically horizontal

There is nothing more taboo than criticising other people's parenting skills.

If you even dare step over this line you are guaranteed an ear full and you should also brace yourself for a bashing of your own abilities as a parent in return.

That doesn't mean I can't have a moan on my own blog though does it? Best check the front door is securely locked and bolted. and the ferocious guard dog is definitely on order, and here I go.

I have a bone to pick with the neighbours who live over the way.

Is it just me or is the fact they were sat out in their garden with their three little children at gone 9pm at night a little shocking? As far as I'm concerned those children should have been in bed at that hour.

My daughter had been in bed since 7pm, like every night, and if nothing else, the cries and shouts from the little ones across the way were in great danger of waking her up.

I know for a fact me and my husband are not alone in having a strict bedroom routine. Many other people we know make sure their children are in bed at a reasonable hour. Certainly in bed by eight at the very latest. But for every person who subscribes to this way of thinking, there are many more who seem to let their children run riot after hours.

It used to bug me a little before I became a parent that some people allowed this to happen. If nothing else it made me reflect on my own childhood and how it used to be a treat to be allowed to stay up and watch Coronation Street.

But now I am a parent seeing children up so late every night actually upsets me. It upsets me because I really feel it is not fair on the children. If they are up at this hour they are just not getting the sleep they need. When children are small they need plenty of sleep to allow them to grow and develop but also so that they are happy and alert during daytime hours.

To me this is common-sense but the evidence suggests that some parents are oblivious to the importance of sleep for children or just don't care.

A lot of these routine-less parents argue they have more freedom to do what they want to do when they want.

I would argue that I'd rather schedule my day around a happy and well-rested child than have the freedom to do all that I wanted with a cross and tired toddler in tow.

Can you guess what it is yet?

I think my daughter may be the love child of Rolf Harris and Nessa from Gavin and Stacey.

Yes, I too was quite sure I had been pregnant and given birth but the evidence seems to be stacking against me. It must have all been a dream, or a nightmare.

So how have I reached this rather bold conclusion?

Well it all started when my daughter began to do old Rolf's 'oom ha ha oom ha' chant as she pottered around her business – playing, wrecking the joint and seeking out her next meal.

You know the one I mean, that breathy, sing-song chant he does when he's drawing. There is probably a technical Aussie term for it but I don't know it.

I don't mean she goes around saying 'can you guess what it is yet?' but if my theory is proved right, that will naturally be the next step.

As for Nessa - well this will only make sense to watchers of Gavin and Stacey but anyway... Nessa's catchphrase is 'oh' which she follows up with 'what's occurring?' My daughter does an uncanny impression of the 'oh' which at present I quite enjoy following up with 'what's occurring?' Small things and all that.

My daughter finds my little routine funny but then she is not overly discriminate in what makes her laugh.

So there we have it – 'oh', 'oom ha ha oom ha', my daughter is unquestionably Rolf Harris and Nessa, off Gavin and Stacey's, love child.

How me and my husband came to possess her I'm not quite sure. The stork must have bought her.

At least my daughter should turn out a good artist and a good, umm, fake, make-believe Welsh, type comedy person.

What is the right age to let your child walk to the shops alone?

There was a very interesting discussion on TV about whether 15 was too old to let your child walk to the local shop alone for the first time.

I would say, yes it is.

In this modern age parents appear to be far more fearful about letting their children go out alone – whether this be popping to the local shop, going to the park or walking to the school bus stop.

In actual fact, the danger posed to children is no greater today than it was in the 70s.

Current statistics show that the greatest danger to ten to 16-year-olds is road accidents. However, this was also the case in the 70s.

Many parents have the view that the danger from paedophiles and murderers is greater than ever. In actual fact 11 children are murdered every year in the UK – and obviously this is 11 children too many – but again this figure has not increased since the 70s.

A lot of parents seem to be buying in to the media hype around child murders and attacks which makes the threat seem far greater than it is.

It is a fact that paedophiles and child murderers by and large continue to more likely be a family member or someone known to the family rather than a complete stranger out on the street.

The older generation. who now have grown-up children of their own, will recall their own childhoods as a time when they freely went out and about from a very young age. They would play out in the street, visit friend's houses and walk, in some cases, miles to school, all without parental supervision. A child who wasn't doing all these things aged ten was an oddity then.

They in turn will have allowed their own children -my generation – to do the same kind of activities on their own, perhaps with a little more hesitation.

Even in the 80s and 90s there wasn't the same kind of hysteria as there is now, and as already pointed out, the threat is no greater now than it was then.

It is almost unimaginable now to think that in the 1940s very young children were being evacuated out of London to escape the second world war bombings to live with complete strangers. At the time, it was considered a great thing to be doing. Now the country would be getting into a great flap about whether the people these children were going to live with had been CRB checked.

It is one of the greatest tests for a parent to allow their child to go out alone for the first time. It takes real effort to repress those inevitable fears and allow your children to grow.

But not allowing them to experience freedom will cause severe damage in the long run.

It is vital that children learn how to be street wise early on, perhaps between ten and 12-years-old depending on the individual's confidence.

If it is left too late it is more likely a child will be unable to handle freedom efficiently later on – say when they go to university – and many children as a result go off the rails.

Parents need to educate their children about the potential dangers in a responsible way without being scaremongering, so children know what to do if they do encounter trouble.

However, the sooner children step out the front door on their own, the sooner they will gain a vital source of confidence and empowerment.

Of course, I will be terrified when my daughter goes out to the shop on her own for the first time. Like a number of parents, I will probably secretly follow her part of the way the first few times.

But I understand I would only harm her psychologically in the long run if I didn't enable both of us to take that first bold step sooner rather than later.

'Screen' obsessed parents guilty of child neglect?

Midwives are reporting that more and more mothers are not 'completely present' during labour because they are too caught up in the virtual world of texting and posting Facebook updates.

These midwives say that mothers are missing out on the full experience of giving birth to their babies as, ironically, they are filling in every man and his dog on how the birth is progressing on their mobile phones.

Some mums-to-be may argue, anything to take them out of the extremely painful and gruelling experience that is giving birth.

However, it appears mother's obsession with the screen does not end in the delivery room. A lot of mothers, and fathers, are spending vast quantities of their time with an iPhone or laptop in front of their face instead of interacting with their children.

In addition, they are plonking their children in front of the television for long spells of time, all giving off one clear message, that screens – whether TV, computer or phone – are more important than communication face-to-face.

This growing phenomenon is causing increasing concern amongst psychologists. Dr Aric Sigman has gone as far as to say parents who spend their time on their phones in front of their children are guilty of benign child neglect.

He believes the phones are taking up precious time which parents should be spending interacting with their children, while at the same time, instilling in the next generation a false importance on a virtual world.

Dr Sigman's words may seem a little extreme. Child neglect is a phrase most people will associate with terrible stories in the news of child starvation, children forced to live in horrendous conditions or left home alone.

But neglect does not have to be visible to the human eye. I can see how damaging it would be for children psychologically to miss out on vital time playing and communicating with their parents because mum or dad is too busy updating their Facebook status or trying to snap up a bargain on Ebay.

I think it is right to start using words such as neglect in the same sentence as iPhones, laptops and televisions because as a society we are so caught up in these gadgets that perhaps some parents could do with a good shake-up in order for them to get their priorities right.

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside (Part 3)

“I had a dream mummy, that I was souring through the air on a seagull's back”.

It was really important to me that our first family holiday was to be a holiday that all three of us could enjoy. It wasn't to be a holiday for just me and my husband, and for my daughter to be towed along for the ride.

And we most definitely succeeded. With so many different and new things to see, lots of new people to point and smile at and the fact she had both mummy and daddy with her full-time for a whole week, my daughter couldn't help but have a fantastic time.

On the journey home I again reflected how this home-coming was going to be perceived by my daughter. As far as she must have been concerned, the week we had just experienced away was her new life now. She must have thought we had moved into that holiday cottage and going out and about every day had become the new way of doing things.

We're almost home now I reassured her as, for the first time in the whole week, she started to get fidgety in the back of the car. I'm not sure that she completely grasped what I meant, though her understanding of what I say to her these days is quite extraordinary.

But when we pulled up back at home and she was lifted out of the car you could see the look of recognition on her face. Hang on, you could see her thinking, I recognise this place. I'm back, I'm really back, I'm home. I never thought I'd see this place again.

As we approached our front door her head swung to the field at the side of the house as it does every time and she greeted the horses with a click of her tongue. Into the house we went and as soon as she was put down onto our familiar carpet she was off to the pile of toys we had left behind, eagerly seeking out her favourite alphabet blocks and jigsaw puzzle pieces. Within minutes she was stood up at the TV table watching the screen, a toy clutched in her hand as though she had never been away.

But somewhere buried deep down in her mind, like a wonderful dream, are memories of the feel of warm, grainy sand trickling between her toes and the wind in her hair as she rode on daddy's back across hilltops.

What a fantastic first family holiday for us all. Roll on the next one.

Sunshine hoo-hah

What a hoo-hah getting a 14 month baby and a mummy (that's me by the way) ready for a simple half an hour walk around the village is in this hot weather.

By the time I've actually got us both kitted out for the sun I barely have the energy, or enthusiasm, to go out at all.

My daughter essentially begins as a blank canvas. In this hot weather she quite happily cruises around the house in just her nappy. First step therefore is to find her something suitable to wear. As much as I want to cover every inch of her delicate skin from the sun in a big cardigan, balaclava and ski goggles, I have to settle for one of her summer outfits of sleeveless smock top and three quarter length trousers.

Before I can even put this on however comes the obligatory nappy check and then, the sun cream. This is applied generously everywhere, even her legs which are going to be covered up by said three quarter length trousers.

This task is made the more difficult by the fact my daughter decides it would be a good idea to try and eat the sun cream.

I manage to get her clothes on over her cream-smeared skin and then comes the sandals. These are guaranteed to slip off, or be pulled of, at least five times before we head out the door. On this occasion, the worst that happens is the strap on one comes undone, but I got lucky.

Then comes my sun cream. Failing to find the factor 25 sun cream in the bathroom, which my husband assured me was there, I opt for my daughter's sun block instead.

Having children must suddenly make you paranoid about your own welfare because pre-baby I would never have bothered with this step.

My own sandals and sunglasses go on. Okay, sunglasses off again, because now I can't see what I am doing.

My daughter's sun hat is retrieved from the drawer and put on her head, and taken off straight away, by my daughter. Looks like we're going hatless again.

We've made it to the front door. Time to set up the pushchair, get the nappy bag and put my daughter in, the pushchair, not the bag, but at this rate anything could happen.

Door locked. Keys in bag, best foot forward down the path.

Oh blimey, what's that?! My daughter's arm thrusts its way out of the pushchair, brazenly clutching onto the rubber duck she plays with in the bath. Some how during all the palaver of getting ready she has got hold of this item and not let go. I think it must have happened whilst I searched for the factor 25 sun cream.

Well, it's too late to turn around and put ducky back inside where he belongs. The three of us will just have to make the best of it. Though I can't help feeling there's something a little indecent about my daughter's travelling companion. This rubber duck to me represents the more shambolic reality of our home life. I put it in the same category as the over-flowing nappy bin. As long as me and my daughter look presentable out and about no one has to know quite how hap-hazard the process was to get us that way.

The fact this duck has flown the nest and left the sanctuary of the bathroom feels a little bit like indecent exposure. I try and look cool as I push my daughter along in the sweltering heat.

“What rubber duck?” I defy people as they pass by, “this heat must be driving you quackers.”

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside (Part 2)

“Wow-wee”

On our first holiday away as a family last week, my daughter completely embraced a new nomad way of life. Getting up in the morning and going out for the whole day, taking her naps in the back of the car as we travelled from place to place and eating her lunch on hilltops, on beaches and quirky little cafés with waitresses looking on in glee, became the norm from day one.

Her first sight of the sea was a curious one for her. I don't think she fully understood exactly what this huge expanse of water was all about initially. Perhaps she thought the sky had fallen down and devoured the land. It was interesting to see throughout the week how she grew accustomed to this new watery phenomenon so that after a few days she was pointing with delight out at the water as soon as we hit the sand. It also gave her plenty of opportunity to air her new found phrase of exclamation, 'wow-wee'.

The other delight she soon realised you get with beaches are lots of seagulls. I don't think she could quite believe what a close look at these birds she was being allowed, as they brazenly hopped up to us, crowing for a bit of our lunch. Then there are all the dogs – of all shapes and sizes - who would scurry past, their tails wagging and their paws wet from the water.

Let's not forget this holiday was a learning curve for myself and my husband also. I really don't know how parents do it, taking their tiny babies away with them. We were adamant we were going to keep to our daughter's routine despite the fact we were out and about and we pretty much did. The only thing which was out by a few hours was her after-lunch nap but she still always had a sleep in the afternoon - usually on the way home from our trip out. I don't even want to think about how we would have coped on a holiday when she was being fed milk on demand in those first months of life. It would have made for a really disrupted holiday indeed.

To be continued...

Scientists invent the biodegradable plaster

The news that scientists have invented a plaster which does not have to be taken off but instead dissolves into the skin, is being hailed a revelation for mums. However, if we could have picked something which could just dissolve away, mums, would it have been a plaster?

Scientists have invented a biodegradable plaster you do not have to rip off. Instead it dissolves into the skin. The plasters can do this because they are made of starch that breaks down into glucose over time. This apparently can be absorbed safely by the skin.

The Daily Mail newspaper hails this as a great invention as it will save mums having to rip plasters off their little ones.

They are thinking foremost about that moment of pain which can make even the toughest little soldier cry out.

But it also seems to be suggesting a time saving element. Mums will no longer have to put themselves out to rip plasters off their children’s grazes. Instead they can get on with their dozen other tasks about the house - how kind.

Perhaps instead, scientists could think about inventing biodegradable dishes which do not have to be washed up, biodegradable dust and smears which do not have to be mopped and polished off floors and surfaces and biodegradable baby food which does not have to be wiped off, everywhere.

Now that would be a little more time saving for us mums, or dads. The Daily Mail doesn't even mention the dads. Is it somehow a mum's job to rip off plasters?

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside (Part 1)

“Why am I having a bath in this strange bathtub mummy?”

My daughter had a wonderful first holiday.

She appeared to love almost every moment of it.(And that by the way is where I have been for the past week – on my holidays. Sorry about the absence of blogs during that time but even the most conscientious of writers needs a little break.)

It's hard to know where to even begin when it comes to writing a blog on something as momentous as your child's first ever holiday. I could give you a blow-by-blow account of everything we did but I can't see that holding anyone's attention for long.

What most struck me on reflecting on this monumental week away as a family was how it must have seemed to my daughter. I'll explain what I mean by that.

What I mean is my daughter obviously didn't understand the concept of holidays before we went away, having never been on one before. She didn't know that it is possible to go away for a short time, to a new house, and new surroundings and then come back home afterwards.

When we arrived at our holiday cottage last weekend she must have initially thought we had gone visiting for the day. She certainly took a real delight in exploring this new place and it must have been novel for her to realise there were no new people in this new place to get to grips with. Just a whole lot of new floor to crawl across and new nooks and crannies to investigate.

It must have been at bedtime she first realised there was something a little odd going on.

What are mummy and daddy doing, she must have thought as we gave her a bath in a strange bath tub. I've been round to people's houses before and played and even eaten my tea, but I've never used their baths. It must have got even odder when she was put into her pyjamas and given her bedtime milk and story, all still in these strange surrounds.

It was at that crucial bedtime moment when she had to be put into her travel cot that she decided to protest. This is the first time she had ever been in a travel cot. It came with the holiday cottage so it was not even as though we could have trialled it before we went away.

I didn't like it myself. It just didn't seem natural for her to be sleeping so low down and close to the floor. I was pining after her cot miles away at home myself. There were tears and more tears but after a reassuring cuddle from mummy she eventually fell asleep.

To be continued...

Ban make-up kits for under eights say Pink Stinks

I have recently discovered the Pink Stinks campaign. They are a group of individuals, mainly mothers, who are staunchly against any products, media and marketing that prescribe heavily stereotyped and limiting roles to young girls.

They believe all children are affected by the “pinkification” of girlhood and their aim is to challenge and reverse this growing trend.

Initially I thought to myself, where do I sign up.

It was actually their latest campaign to ban make-up toys geared at under eights that got me thinking a bit more about this issue.

Currently there are over 29 make-up kits geared at children available to buy. Some are geared at under eights while others are specifically labelled as suitable for children as young as three. Brands like Hello Kitty and Disney all have their versions and stores like Boots, Superdrug and John Lewis stock them.

There are two opposing views to this argument. The first is that children naturally mimic their mums and all too often delve into mum's make-up bag and destroy all her expensive make-up. Therefore, why not buy these children their own make-up kits, which it does not matter if they destroy, with the added peace of mind this toy make-up is safe for them to swallow and will wash off easily.

The opposing view, which is the one Pink Stinks is trumpeting, is that buying girls these make-up kits at such a young age only opens them up to a life-long slavery to the beauty industry. It breeds self-doubt over how attractive they are and also sexualises them at far too young an age.

My head is with Pink Stinks on this one. I have cried out in despair at adverts for Lelli Kelly shoes on the TV. For those who have not seen them, Lelli Kelly is a shoe company geared at junior school aged girls who give away free make-up kits with their shoes. There is no way I would allow my daughter to own these shoes and their resulting free make-up no matter how much she begs me, I have stated.

But then there is my heart. I remember being given old stumps of lipstick by my mum to play with and tester perfume bottles to dab on my own tiny wrists. It was a part of growing up and trying out new ideas. In many ways I think girls are losing their sense of femininity and it is these little things in youth which help set you up to be far more ladylike in the future. We are now a nation of ladettes.

But then I stop again and consider. I can't help thinking there is a real difference between a little girl, or boy, sitting with mum and playing with mum's lipstick and them sitting on their own in front of the mirror with their own specially bought make-up kit, especially at the age of three.

This changes the whole situation from just being about play to being far more about instilling in children from a young age that it is important what they look like. It moves it away from copying mum to something they do in their own right.

Once make-up is introduced at this age, it is most likely going to stay. It will become a constant in a child's life and rapidly move from a toy to an essential tool to make a little girl feel prettier.

There are also the parents who are not able to make informed decisions about this subject. They will simply see the labels on the products, 'suitable for three-year-olds' and think it is okay to buy it for their tiny child.

Pink Stinks does have an extreme outlook on this issue but I do think it is needed to balance and moderate the opposite point of view, that it is okay for very young children to sit in front of a mirror and focus on their appearance, a view which is in danger of saturating today's society, if it hasn't already.

What we need to aim for is a happy medium. Parents need to balance their little girl's desire to look pretty, with games and toys to encourage her other talents and attributes. At the same time safeguards do need to be put in place to prevent less-informed parents falling into a marketing trap. Because of this I would say make-up kits aimed at children under eight should be banned and therefore I would back Pink Stinks on this. This does not mean a four-year-old can't play around with an old lipstick tube and smear it around their mouths trying to be like mum. That's just part of growing up.

Should team sports for girls be scrapped in schools?

There is much debate in England at the moment over whether traditional school sports for girls, like netball and hockey, should be replaced with non-competitive fitness classes like Zumba and roller blading.

The thinking behind this is girls need a greater incentive to get involved in sport as currently only a third of girls aged over 14 do enough exercise a week.

A lot of people think back to their P.E. lessons at school and shudder. There tended to be a select group of girls who were good at all the team games and it was left for everyone else to struggle through and bare the embarrassment.

It was never just about the actual games themselves though. It was the whole set up of going into those grotty changing rooms and having to get out your developing body in front of everyone else's critical eye. And don’t even mention those awful showers afterwards. Those showers, I’m sure, were worse for the girls than the boys. Girls are naturally more self-conscious about their bodies, and it created havoc with the hair do. It swiftly became a hair don't with all that running around and sweating and no hair-dryers after the showers.

It all spelled a kind of humiliation and exposure which wasn't good for the image.

I think in many ways it would be sad to see team games for girls go. Not only are they part of tradition, but they do help develop vital skills such as team work and communication. I believe it is good for children to be competitive and the harsh part of me thinks that all those P.E. lesson humiliations can only be character building.

At the same time. If dance classes, Zumba and roller blading are going to get more girls exercising then it can only be a good thing.

It is interesting to consider what kind of sporting activities boys and girls go on to do in adulthood. While a lot of men still enjoy taking part in team games such as football and rugby at the weekend, less women carry on with netball and hockey.

More women like to go to aerobics and dance classes at their local leisure centre. Maybe therefore, team games for girls generally go against what females prefer to do for their exercise, and so why not just start girls off on these kinds of non-competitive classes early on?

Mum admits she had a baby to get a year off work

Former English teacher Sarah Kerr has spoken to the Daily Mail about choosing to have a baby in order to get a year off work.

Grrr Mrs Kerr, grrr. Why have you done this to all your fellow mums, and prospective mums of the future?

Speaking from personal experience – and I can't be alone in this – telling my boss that I was pregnant was one of the more nerve-wracking experiences of that first trimester. As soon as me and my husband found out we were expecting a baby, I couldn't help one of my initial thoughts being, how was I going to break this to people at work?

You just know that the news isn't going to go down well. Your employer is faced with a difficult next six months when he has to watch your productivity going down without being able to say a word of complaint about it. He will be up to his eyes in paperwork and if he is anything like my employer, completely bamboozled by issues of maternity leave and maternity pay. And all he has to look forward to is at least a further nine months when he is a member of staff down.

So Mrs Kerr, don't make it even harder for us mothers who are concerned about breaking the news to everyone at work, by putting into their minds the notion we mums-to-be are just after an extended holiday.

I just hope that Mrs Kerr did actually want to be a mother underneath all her complaints about her job. She says she had reached the end of her tether with her unruly pupils and needed a way out. She said getting pregnant seemed the best way to do this.

But Mrs Kerr, bringing a child into the world isn't the equivalent to getting a sick note from the doctors. It is a little person in their own right. How terrible to think they were brought into the world for entirely selfish reasons on the part of the mother.

Luckily – in some ways – I do think Mrs Kerr is exaggerating her situation for the purposes of making a good story for the paper.

The fact is, she had been married to her husband two and a half years when she decided on this notion to have a child to get out of work. This is a usual time when couples start to think of having children so maybe she would have decided to have a baby at this point, even if things had not been so bad at work. Let's hope so for the sake of her daughter.

And Mrs Kerr, please, please think before you speak out like this again. You are not doing any mothers on maternity leave, or those planning to go off on maternity leave in the future, any favours.

If this behaviour continues you will be sent to the headmaster's office.

Kissy Kissy

My daughter has learnt to kiss.

I didn't believe my husband when he told me she had given him a kiss the other day. Don't be silly I said. How would she know how to do that, I haven't taught her. Like she can only do things I've taught her to do. I certainly never taught her to chew the furniture.

My daughter is like a sponge, and constantly surprises me with how much she soaks up. When it comes to the chewing – I can only blame the gerbils!

But back to the kissing. I couldn't believe it when my daughter leaned towards me, her lips puckered up, as I sat next to her on the bed at story time one evening.

Hesitantly, I leaned in too and 'peck', her lips touched mine and she gave a little giggle.

Told you, cried out my husband in triumph, pausing from reading out loud James' adventures aboard the giant peach.

OK, OK, I was forced to admit, my daughter after all had learnt to kiss. And I had better make the most of these little kisses before my daughter's self-consciousness kicks in. There will be plenty of times in the future when she's bound to turn away when I ask for a good-bye kiss at the school gates or when I drop her off at her friend's house to play.

But let's not worry about that for now. My daughter's more than happy to try out her new found skill and I'm enjoying yet another sign of her affection.

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Bring on the post baby belly parade

What a breath of fresh air website theshapeofamother.com is. It is just the antidote to the pressure society now puts on all mothers to shed their baby weight weeks after giving birth.

This website, which was set up by mother-of-two Bonnie Crowder, shows mother's post baby bodies in a staggeringly honest light, saggy bellies, stretch marks, scars and all. Alongside these refreshing pictures are real-life testimonials from mums about their struggles to lose their baby weight. Others are completely defiant about it and refuse to be pressured into losing their bulge.

In today's society there is the perception that women should go all out to lose any excess weight as soon as they have given birth. This idea is fuelled by the media, where day in day out we are shown new photographs of the latest celebrity mum parading around just a few weeks after giving birth in a skin tight dress without the slightest hint of a belly on her.

This puts just as much pressure on the celebrity as it does the average mum. She must feel it would be a cardinal sin to give even a glimpse of extra flesh to the awaiting paparazzi the first time she steps outside with her newborn baby. It would be more than her career was worth.

It is time real mothers gave the media a run for their money and showed a far more realistic portrait of a mum's post birth figure and this is exactly what this website is doing.

It is completely unnatural for mothers to be able to shrink back into their post baby form so quickly. It takes radical measures to be able to slim down so fast, all requiring a lot of money, time and energy. These are things a mum of a newborn baby does not have in the non-celebrity world.

However, there are a whole host of other resulting effects on a mother's skin which no manner of dieting will erase, such as the stretch marks and the scarring.

These have become myths in the celebrity world. A bit of lasering and a nip and tuck here soon eradicates this problem, as does a good pair of knickers, and no one ever talks about it again. It is time society faced up to the reality of motherhood. Mums cannot become airbrushed, slim-line figures overnight. The pressure has become so bad, it appears more and more people are too ready to brand any mother who does not rush out to erase all signs she ever carried a baby inside her as lazy. There will be some people in society who as a result do not understand how difficult in reality it is for women to return back to their original shapes, while there are some blemishes which will never go away.

It is time mothers were able to not only wear their saggy bellies and stretch marks with confidence but for them to be seen as a badge of honour. They do not show that a mother has let herself go after having children but rather are testiment to all the hard work and effort it took to carry that baby within her for nine months and then the agonising pain she went through to give birth. A woman without any of these post baby attributes should be deemed the inferior, not the other way round.

This website theshapeofamother.com should go some way to helping move society in this direction. Of course it will not be viewed by such a wide audience as the numerous photos of mothers showing off their trim tums in celebrity magazines but it is certainly a step in the right direction. Hopefully more people will follow suit and begin to show off their post baby bodies with pride.

Incy wincy spider

My daughter is going through a phase of putting some truly alarming things in her mouth. In the past week I have had to fish out a stone and a dead spider. Well I admit, I baulked at the spider and luckily my husband was on hand to deal with that one. My daughter may be happy to put this little critter in her mouth but that still doesn't mean mummy is happy to pincer it out with her bare fingers.

I saw her chasing a live spider across the carpet earlier and thought, here we go again. My daughter could rival any of the competitors in I'm a Celebrity's bush tucker trial.

The problem is as my daughter's obsession with putting entirely unsuitable items in her mouth has grown – I used to think the torn up pieces of paper and bits of thread were bad – she has cottoned on to what my game is as I come towards her with my fingers ready to perform their tweezer motion.

She'll quite happily crawl over to the sofa and pull herself up to show me what she has in her mouth. Quite handily the little trick I taught her to open her mouth wide and say 'ahhh' while sticking out her tongue has at least paid off in terms of alerting me to the latest little bit of contraband she's got in there.

However, as I say, as soon as she sees my fingers reaching towards her mouth to remove it, she's gives a little giggle, plunges back down onto her bottom and before you can say “I'm a celebrity get me out of here” she's crawled away at her top speed.

Let them eat cake – America's gender revealing parties

The Americans are continuing to influence the way us Brits approach matters of pregnancy and child birth.

Already this week I have talked about how more British parents are adopting the new American craze to have their children at the birth of their new baby in a bid to prevent sibling rivalry.

Now more British parents are following in the American's wake by holding baby sex-revealing parties. These parties involve, as you might guess, the happy parents-to-be revealing to everyone they know what the sex of their burgeoning baby is. But with an extravagant American twist of course, this is done through the medium of cake.

Innocuous on first glance, this many tiered cake holds a secret inside. At the pinnacle moment of the party, the parents cut the cake to reveal the colour of the sponge inside. Pink sponge denotes the couple are expecting a girl and blue sponges, they are having a boy.

The party is held after the 20 week scan when it is possible for the hospital to tell what the sex of the baby is. Some prospective parents go as far as to surprise themselves with the colour of the sponge. In America, hospitals and bakeries are linking up directly, letting the cake maker know what the sex of the baby is even before the parents are told, so they are as surprised as anyone else when the cake is cut open.

Initially, this idea has a child-like anticipation about it. It would be quite exciting to cut into a cake with no idea just what treats its insides had in store – a bit like delving into your stocking on Christmas morning.

But then I think, hang on, we're not dealing with a subject matter which is at all childish. This bit of coloured sponge is representative of the sex of a little human being who has not even entered into this world yet, and already the parents-to-be are making a pantomime around him, or her.

It is also yet another excuse to have a party. The Americans gave us the baby shower, which saw friends and family lavishing the mum-to-be with gifts before the baby was even born. Now there is yet another reason for people to have a knees-up – and in these cash-strapped time too.

It all seems a little unhealthy to me. Parties of this nature in actual fact sway the focus away from the baby and onto the parents. It is all a bit 'look at me, look at me'.

The fact is, the sex of your baby is really a personal matter. Generally, other people, aside from the closest family members, have little genuine interest in what the sex of the baby is. They may want to know from a purely inquisitive perspective, but it is not going to have any real impact on their own lives.

Of course many parents prefer to opt not to know the sex of the baby before it is born at all. Latest figures show 48 per cent of parents still want to be surprised on the day of the birth.

Me and my husband did find out the sex of our daughter but we kept it to ourselves. It seemed appropriate to do this so it was our little secret. We had heard so many stories of hospitals predicting the baby as one sex and it coming out another, that part of our minds was mentally geared up to having a boy anyway.

That would be a blow indeed if you held a sex-revealing party, cake and all, only for a few months later to find you had revealed the wrong colour sponge.

Children are being invited to watch their mother's give birth

More mothers are inviting their children into the delivery room to witness the birth of their new brother or sister.

This is a popular thing to do in America as it is believed it prevents sibling rivalry. But mothers are also starting to do this in the UK.

OK, where do I start with this?!

Firstly, I cannot think of anything worse than for a child to witness their mother going through such an incredibly painful ordeal. Those screams of agony are surely going to echo through the heads of those children forever.

I don't think having to witness the birth of a child is too friendly for the mother's partner to endure, never mind a child.

It is something that a child can do without ever having to be a party to because, quite seriously, I do think it could scar them for life.

The only counter argument to this is that before hospital births became the norm, going back to as recently as the 1950s, it was normal for women to give birth at home and for all the other children to be in the house. Many a little child would have heard their mother's screams coming through the ceiling from her bedroom above.

Of course you could argue there is still a significant difference between this and physically being in the room and seeing the expression on their mother's face and all the blood and gore.

Then we move onto the sibling rivalry issue. How on earth does being there at the birth actually prevent sibling rivalry? If anything wouldn't it breed it. I think it would be the perfect ammunition to throw at a brother or sister. I saw you all wizened up and covered in gunk – ha ha ha.

It must also give that older sibling an even greater sense of power over the other child. They were the tough kid who got to watch it all while their brother or sister was just there all vulnerable and helpless. It hardly puts them on an equal footing if you ask me.

Finally there is the mother. I cannot think of anything worse than having yet another set of eyes on you whilst you are in such a compromising and degrading position. It is certainly not a sight you want your own child to witness otherwise how are you ever going to be able to tell them to tidy their room with any kind of authority again. The child will just be picturing you with your legs in the air.

The only plus I can see for this move is that it is potentially a wonderful sight for a child to see the birth of a baby - that moment when the baby finally emerges and takes in its first breath of air. If you exclude all that leads up to this moment, this is a special event for siblings to share.

However, as soon as I see the positive in this, I am reminded that that moment when a baby is born isn't always so wonderful. There are any number of complications through the birthing process and after a baby is born that a child should never have to witness. If a child experienced the birth of a stillborn baby they would never, ever get over it.