When is a shrimp not a shrimp?...

When he’s a tadpole!

We went to book the next term of swimming lessons for James (3), and were told that he is to be moved up a group and will now be a ‘tadpole’ – which is apparently the next fishy metamorphosis on the road to becoming a shark.

Visiting the beach in February means memories ...

Small, seaweed brandishing children with their hazy, wondrous memories of last season’s bare foot adventures reclaim every grain of sand.

A first sense of shifting time.

We had a lovely afternoon exploring in circles on a cold, empty, sunny beach.

We saw an island, and a lighthouse on the far horizon, and a sailing boat.

We balanced on the green rocks, and dug with blue and orange spades.

Then we had biscuits and juice back at the car, and we shook the sand and little shells from our wellies.

Q. What do these three things have in common … Face, Breasts, Bladder?

A. Running wrecks them (I have it under good anecdotal authority)

Am I more scared (after four children) of bladder droop than of expanding bottom?

You bet I am!

Anyone for yoga?

Caution - Protective clothing to be worn at all times when entering this area ...

To paraphrase this lady, whose childcare experience and wisdom I admire, a building where pre-schoolers play and learn best is like a construction site.

Forget picture perfect, soft focus, text book images.

Grab your hard hat.

Two bars of soap sliding around an empty bath ...

Followed by:

Two bars of soap - plus two boys - sliding around an empty bath...

Me - “Great sliding! – but please do not touch my shampoo and bubble bath”

Boys - “OK”

Two giggling, sliding boys - covered head to toe in shaving foam - "You didn't say shaving foam"

Today we woke up to the reflected white from an overnight snow ...

It’s such a rare thing here for snow to settle that the children have been on a high all day

We went for a drive to the nearest moorland swing park and ran around with handfuls of white treasure that the afternoon sun had missed.

I stopped for petrol.

Cue delightful pre-school conversation:

3 year old boy, indignant with impeccable logic - “You took the wrong handle. You should have taken the red one because your car is red”

Me - “The colour of the petrol pump handle isn’t supposed to match your car – what would happen if it was a blue car?”

4 year old boy, quick as a flash with autistic literal reasoning – “Paint it”

The Birthday Tree ...

I am feeling a little less fluey today and have started to make a tree to help me remember the children's special days.

Today I called in sick from my ambulance job ...

Flu-like symptoms.

Working parents can’t afford to be unwell – we need to ration sick days for when our children are ill or risk a Disciplinary.

But I couldn’t even lift a baby today let alone an adult plus a carry chair.

Thank goodness for duvets ... and hottie botties ... and sick pay.

Bunk Bed Dens …

Do you remember bunk bed dens?

Draped blankets and candlewick bedspreads - no duvets in my day - and pillows piled high to keep out intruders. Magic rainy days.

Now I am old I am always cast as an intruder - pretending to be an evil monster or hungry elephant as the duvets wriggle and I try not to smile.

Play-dough in my Bra …

Under-fives universally love play-dough.

I have declared war on it.

Ours has always been a love-hate relationship … alternately seduced by warm pliability and driven insane by cemented stubbornness.

But love has always conquered - until now.

Sticky, food-coloured blobs running red in my underwear is a step too far.

Bedtime Stories ...

Climbing into the bottom bunk with my toothpasty three year old son to read him his daily bedtime story is one of my favourite times.

The day’s stresses are history when we conspire to choose a story and squish up close to share a pillow.

My arm has to go around him in just the right snugly-safe way and he has to tell me what the story is about before he allows me to start reading.

It’s a ritual now. Our special moment in time where he amazes me daily with his growing perception and humour and his natural interest in the words on the page as well as the pictures.

Childminding Hips …

Most childminders have got alarmingly ‘comforting’ hips, breasts and tummies (I’ve been doing a covert survey at toddler group).

Manoeuvring single, double or even triple buggies, carrying babies, dancing with toddlers, crawling into secret dens and assembling/joining in playing with railways and puzzles etc means we are a pretty fit, strong and flexible lot really - but approaching 40 makes me no longer content to have a hip size that matches my age … hence this New Year’s running/jogging (walking the uphill bits) regime.

I have been sneaking out in the evenings under cover of darkness and baggy trackies and rediscovering what solitary, childish fun and what a fantastic stress-buster it is to just ‘run’ along the pavement. It feels like I go faster in the dark too!

A baby died behind curtains today in Accident and Emergency

Tragically babies die every day - but not often within such close proximity that you can feel utter pain in the air even when you know nothing of the circumstances.

There is a place inside parents that never ever ever wants to be touched - and today that place inside me shivered.

My baby got an extra big cuddle tonight and I went for an extra long run.

Today we went horse riding…

My husband’s three children are staying with us for half–term and as a birthday treat we all went for an hour long gentle ride on the edge of the moor.

I last sat astride a horse approximately seven years ago - but riding a horse is like riding a bike isn’t it?! …. Yeah! … Except bikes don’t stop dead to pee, or refuse to walk through puddles – preferring instead to drag you under low lying fir trees and knock your specs flying.

And bikes don’t toss the handle bars/reins contemptuously out of your grasp in order to eat every passing bush either.

It was very relaxing though - once I got used to the initial discomfort of the second-hand, sweaty, cold Nazi styled helmet.

And the children loved it!

Autism – My Experience ...

A social worker contacted me in spring 2005 to ask whether I would be prepared to offer regular respite care to a three year old boy who has autism.

Put simply - having autism means having different degrees of sensory, social and communication difficulties which can include behaviours that challenge our understanding and management.

I do not pretend to be an expert on autism - my prior personal experience of it is limited to working in my parent’s residential home for adults with learning disabilities (including autism), to an eight week stint on a US summer camp for children with disabilities in 1985, and to having designed and put together an information and fundraising website for a friend of mine whose four year old daughter has autism.

I am however (and I think instinctively that these qualities may help) - open-minded, lateral thinking and interested in human behaviours/relationships. I am not a flappable person and like to approach problems in a quiet and systematic way.

I am also a good learner and a good listener – working on emergency ambulances means that I am not easily shocked and have no time for stereotypical assumptions.

I have listened to and observed the children and parents that come to my setting and have learnt so much from them since I first started to care for their children.

From a parent’s recommendation I have learnt how to help encourage and listen to those children who use their own augmentive picture communication systems – PECS - by attending a brilliantly helpful two day course.

I read books on autism – the best and most insightful being those written by people who themselves have social/communication difficulties or who are themselves parents of children who have autism. (Book recommendations greatfully received!)

Since that first phone call I have now cared for/am still caring for a total of seven young children who have autism and each one has been as lovely and as unique as any other child.

Ofsted would love my mum ...

We took two very good little lads into a small supermarket and she treated them to a healthy choc-ice each - and let them eat it whilst waiting at the checkout!!

Outrageous behaviour that only a grandmother could possibly be allowed to get away with.

Homemade ice lollies out of squash were the limit when my sisters and I were little.

Like I said - Ofsted would adore her. But nowhere near as much as I do.

Mother's Instinct?

Well - maybe I'm not not such a soft-touch pushover after all ...

My genuinely poorly son is now taking antibiotics for an upper airway infection after an anxious visit to the out of hours GP at 3am last night.

Old battered and beloved Bunny is todays 'must have' toy.

How did this son of mine learn to fool me so easily?

With four children under my belt and a second job as an emergency ambulance technician (I have just finished a busy night shift), you would have thought that I could spot a fraudulent patient a mile off. Hmmm ....

3 yr old son - ‘Mummy – I’m pooooorly’

Mummy – ‘Oh dear, what’s the matter?’

3 yr old son – ‘I’ve got a headache’

All manner of potential childhood illnesses flash up in my mind. Is this just me or this a parent/mother/NHS worker thing?

Well … there is a bug locally that has closed some schools and yes … he does feel a little bit warm ... but …..

‘I’m poooooooorly’

'OK - snuggle time on the sofa instead of going to your own childminder today' (Who won’t thank me for sending a contagious child to her home).

So now I am in my pjs desperate for my own soft pillows whilst said son comes sweetly over to the sofa (which HE is supposed to be on!) to give ME cuddles, then goes back to doing tricks in the middle of the living room on his new mini-skateboard.

I’m sure I was never such a pushover with my older children.

What to do with two almost 4yr olds bursting with energy on a crisp, sunny afternoon in February?

Far too good a day to stay indoors and with no babies to consider, the option of ‘shall we climb a mountain?’ like Owen did with his granddad in our book about ‘Owen and the Mountain’, was met with lots of eager enthusiasm and practical four year old suggestions such as ‘we need to take a picnic, don’t we??’

So we packed a bottle of juice each, a banana and some chocolate (emergency rations!), added a little travelling first-aid kit with parents contact details, made sure we all had lots of warm clothes and hats/gloves, went for a last minute wee, and strapped safely into our car seats.

The great thing about where I live is that there is a wonderful choice of places to visit within 5-30mins of my setting. We have woods, moors, beaches, play parks, leisure centres, farm parks, aquarium, indoor soft play centre and lots more interesting and exciting places for young children.

In the car we play games like who can spot a motorbike, horse, aeroplane etc and make up daft songs about being strong mountain climbers. Time in the car also gives me a chance to explain about safety when outdoors and teach the boys snippets about all sorts of related subjects – mountain/moor rescue, what to do in an emergency, can you remember your telephone numbers and addresses? The boys are especially receptive to learning when they are themselves about to climb a mountain for real.

Of course it wasn’t a real mountain that we tackled – it was a Dartmoor tor – but to the boys looking up at the granite boulders and the lumpy ground to travel over and climb it certainly looked daunting. We parked up by a small pond from which the Dartmoor ponies like to drink. Today it was almost completely frozen and an opportunity for a small science lesson as well as another safety lesson. The boys held on tight to each of my hands and we set off slowly towards the peak of our mountain. They gripped tight and their eyes looked both apprehensive and excited, but soon, as we all warmed up, they became more confident and intrepid and started to let go of me and run ahead a bit.

We saw our breath as we climbed over the grassy tussocks to reach the first outcrop and laughed at the sheep who ran away from us. We snuggled up together in the shelter of a big rock to eat some chocolate and have sips of our juice.

The car was visible to us at all times and we talked about how small it looked as we got further away from it and how much bigger the rocks in front of us looked now we had arrived at the top of our mountain. I took some photos for the boys to add to their daily diaries to show their parents.

When we got back to the car our cheeks were flushed and our legs were wobbly – but wow we had done it – we had climbed our very own mountain!

A safe and secure early childhood is what we all want for our children. As a childcare provider looking after other people's children, my interest and my business is in helping parents to give their children that safety and security.

It is a big responsibility but fantastically rewarding to observe children being relaxed and behaving naturally in my home - laughing, exploring, having fun, asking questions and learning. As a self-employed person it is equally as rewarding to see parents (my customers after all) who are happy and relaxed to leave their children with me.

As a Registered Childminder I am allowed by Ofsted to care for a maximum of three under fives. By having such a small adult:child ratio I am able to offer a consistency of care unrivalled by other larger childcare providers.

We often get out and about on to the moors or go for walks in the woods. If your child is learning to ride a bike then they are welcome to bring it along so we can all take a trip to the cycle track to help encourage them. Flexibility is my thing - as a parent once said about me!

Blogging though is new to me. I had an idea that to illustrate my work and for my own self-evaluation I would sometimes post more detailed extracts from our days - with all names changed for confidentiality.

All polite comments very welcome!