How to survive a sleepover

Sleepover. One of those misnomers, right up there with 'fun run' and 'sports personality'.

Last night Phyllis had her first ever sleepover. Her friend, also 6, came for New Year's Eve and stayed. We survived; having had 3 kids I have developed a very strict set of rules for sleepovers:

1. Choose your guest/s wisely. Phyllis' little friend came from Good Stock. We know the parents and knew that they were bringing her up well. She was polite and fun. Do not choose a child who has multiple piercings under the age of 10, is named Checayne, Tequila or similar, and who's mother is 12. On the flip side, do no allow a child to stay who has a live in nanny and a maid. They will sneer at your Factory Shop furnishings, and demand scrambled quail's eggs on a fat/sugar/salt free brioche for breakfast.

2. Give them sweets. Yes, I know that is against everything you have been brought up to believe, but look at it this way: They will be hyper anyway, would you rather blame their behaviour on Haribo or your total lack of control as a parent?

Thought so.

3. Cram in as many children as will fit in the house. Again, this may seem crazy, but the less space they have, the less they can move. Moving=mischief.

This also makes the inevitable arguments more interesting and varied, and chances are they will tell each other to go to sleep as the first few get tired, saving you a job.

4. Invite children who have unusually early bedtimes. Phyllis' friend is usually tucked up by 6.30pm. The odds on her being tired at a reasonable time are significantly better than, say, a child whose usual bedtime is 9pm.

5. From the age of about 8 or nine, sleepovers become a popular and regular occurrence, particularly with girls. Parents of said kids will usually take turns to host the sleepovers. Make sure your turn falls in the summer months and stick them all in the garden in a tent. Surprise them with one unannounced 'supervision' visit to let them know they are being watched, then leave them to it.

6. Behave totally inappropriately in the house (see 'How to get your teenager to go to bed') to ensure they only come in when absolutely necessary, like if an alien abducts one of them. And maybe not even then.

7. If they are old enough to have a sleepover, they are old enough to make their own breakfast. Leave out a selection of easy things for them to make, like the cornflakes you've been trying to get rid of for months but no-one in your family will eat. Hide the nice stuff! I cannot stress this enough. This particularly applies to teenage boys...

Today: Phrases that may be used in an emergency

"I want you all asleep by 10pm. If you're quiet though, I might forget you're not asleep and you may get to stay up longer..."

"Ah, poor thing. If you can't settle to sleep here, maybe I should take you home."

"Of course you can come in! ***'s (insert name of your child) dad is just watching the 'News at 10' in his pants, but you won't mind that will you?"

For loud music: "Oh my gosh I LOVE this song!! Turn it up!" Dance outrageously.

Enjoy!

Mama Jax

How to make the most of Santa

It's that time of year again when excited little faces begin to look eagerly to the sky and count down the sleeps 'til Santa. It's also the easiest time of year to keep your small ones in check. If you are having trouble disciplining your child, may I suggest that now is the best time to crank things up a notch.

Lots of children, when they are small, are frightened of Santa. This is a healthy fear which should be encouraged for as long they believe. Santa is not a jolly fat man who brings goodies to all and sundry. Santa plays it fair. Good children get presents, naughty children don't.

I start threatening my kids with Santa from about August. Phyllis firmly believes that I have Santa on speed dial:

"Hello, is that Santa? I have Phyllis here, she'd like a quick word with you. She doesn't think it's fair that she has to put away her toys. Oh no, wait, she's changed her mind."

I have a friend who rings the kids in early November, as Santa, just to check up on them and make sure they are behaving. The Brightest Star in the Sky is Santa's special fairy, who checks in on them every so often, and the little security sensors in the corners of many public places are really Santa-cam. These are just to start you off. One of my friends was inspired enough to tell her kids that I knew their names because I worked for Naughty List Intelligence. Oh, if only that were a real job! We parents must stick together, and anything we can use that makes our lives easier is a Good Thing.

By the time December comes round, my small folk are so terrified that they will have nothing in their stockings that they are paragons of saintly virtue, leaving me free to eat chocolate and drink mulled wine in peace. So Santa, much as I curse you for making me do your Christmas shopping, I have to say you are alright really.

Today: My Christmas wish list

Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl this year. Please may I have:

1. An extra pair of hands

2. These shoes:

3. Johnny Depp

I humbly thank thee Santa, and promise faithfully that if you can deliver me these things I will be very naughty with them, so you won't have to buy me a present next year.

Mama Jax

How to survive the supermarket shop

If you don't yet have kids and are thinking of joining the ranks let me just warn you of one thing:
You will never again shop in Marks and Spencers food hall!

There is a hierarchy in supermarkets which subliminally dictates who they welcome. M&S with kids? Forget it. Waitrose? Possibly if you have a nanny and have called your child Tarquin or Jamesina.

I tried Waitrose once. Whoever came up with the idea of mini trolleys for kids obviously didn't have them. Tarquin and Jamesina will enjoy the trolleys. They will walk next to their adult, reading words like 'Kumquat' from the shopping list whilst mentally totting up the nutritional value of each food item.
My kids pretended the trolleys were bumper cars. I spent 10 minutes trying to be a Waitrose mum before cracking with, "Darlings, please come here. You are making me SCREAM LIKE A FISHWIFE!!!!!" I went scuttling back to Asda where I belong.

When Peter was smaller I took him with me to Asda and took my eyes off him for a second. BIG MISTAKE! Children, like Doctor Who's Weeping Angels, should always be watched. Don't even blink. In that second, Peter had legged it round the corner straight into a display of cut price wine. Much of what happened next is blanked from my traumatised mind, except for the part where I'm holding a screaming Peter whilst hysterically repeating, "I'll pay! I'll pay! I'll pay" as if on a loop system. The manager was very calm. "It's fine madam, we'll sort it. You can go..." Oh the shame!

I've now found my comfort zone with Lidl. However I am very aware that I am one tantrum away from having to rummage through skips for food whilst my kids graffiti misspelled swear words on the wall. I wonder if the same hierarchy exists for supermarket skips? I might end up a Waitrose mum after all!

My tips for how to survive the supermarket shop? Leave them at home. Or bribe them to behave with sweets and comics. Not the best parenting technique, but let's face it, it works.

Today: Manners make all the difference...
Overheard in a supermarket (I'll leave you to guess which one):
Kids (about 1000 of them it seemed...): Giz it 'ere! Giz it 'ere! It's mine! Giz it 'ere!!!
Fraught mum: 'ow many times do I 'ave to tell yiz?? It ain't "Giz it 'ere!" It's "Giz it 'ere...ta!"

Mama Jax

My Small Fry: The Railway Children

I call my kids the railway children, after the children in the book by E. Nesbit. There is a line in the book that says:

"Mothers never have favourites, but if their Mother had had a favourite, it might have been Roberta."

Well that's my eldest- my 'Bobby' as I like to call her. Always there, works hard, has her moments but generally not too bad! (I actually say to all my children, "You're my favourite...but don't tell the others!" If they ever discuss and find out I've said it to all 3 of them, well they should have done what Mama Jax told them and kept quiet!)

The middle child in the book is Peter, a bit obsessive and rather odd, just like my 'Peter'. My Peter has autism, and that's a blog of it's own! He, like many boys his age, is obsessed with Doctor Who but unlike most boys he can tell you anything and everything about any given episode. Go on- comment a question and test him!

My little 'Phyllis' is the diva of the family (I can't think who she gets it from- I blame her dad!) She's taken to replying to me with, "Whatever...Girlfriend!" complete with clicks.

I have worked with challenging kids for over 6 years now, and I love every minute of it! It's toughened me up that's for sure!!! In this blog I hope to share with you my parenting highs and low. Parenting is hard enough, without having to struggle on your own, so feel free to share your worries, difficulties, tips and successes.

Today, a little laughter...

Me: Peter, the clocks go back next weekend.

Peter: Back where?

Mama Jax