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Start the week right by joining our Sleep Challenge!

On Saturday we kicked off our 7-day Sleep Challenge, asking Alphamummy'ers to tell us how much sleep they're getting, to dedicate this week to getting more, and to logging the difference here on the blog.

Don't worry if you missed the first couple of days. Kick off the week by joining the challenge and make a commitment to being better rested. After all, Naomi Wolf contends that sleep is a feminist issue and of all the equality women need, sleep parity is one of the most important.

So take the challenge and tell us how one week of maximum shut-eye affects your mood, your energy levels and your creativity.

Read the original post that describes our challenge

Quit babying women in the workplace

Ed's note: This piece originally ran in the Sunday Times.

Put twenty working women in a room, lubricate with plenty of good wine and what do you get? Twenty very strident and completely different ideas about what women want — or that's certainly what happened at the one I went to last week.

I was particularly struck by the anger of one young woman, let's call her Jane. She works at least a 60-hour week. With glee, she told me how she is rarely off a plane, has an immensely senior job with a global brief and loves every minute of it. Her husband looks after their two kids full-time and she earns enough to keep them all in style.

Her gripe? That legislation originally designed to protect women is now killing them with kindness. "I don't want special pleading, or flexible hours. I just want to be the best I can be at my job," she said fiercely.

Jane may be an extreme case, but there are plenty of female breadwinners like her.

My new favourite place in the world: the tiny toilets at school

Favourite places after often incongruous. Our cats, for instance, like to lie in the middle of bathroom floor, because there's a hot-water pipe that runs under there that, presumably, keeps them nice and toasty. The amount of times I've wandered into the bathroom at night, and trodden on first one cat, then the other, and essentially staggered to the toilet wearing a pair of cats as slippers, is uncountable.

     But then, I know where those cats are coming from. I can scarcely mock them. For, in the last few months, I have had my happiest moment in the tiny toilets at Eavie's school. I look forward to going there with a joy that surprises even me. I suppose a lot of it is down to timing: I've just dropped the kids off, and I can see they're happy and chatting to their friends - rather than bawling their eyes out and asking to go home, as happened when they were little. As soon as I leave the school, I'll be going on an hour-long run whilst listening to Elbow, so I have an immense amount to look forward to, but first, I need to go for a pre-run wee in the tiny toilets.

    Sitting on the miniscule loo, in a cubicle which my body fills almost entirely, there's something rather lovely about imagining how Eavie comes in here too, on a "break" from her "work", possibly with a "colleague" chatting to her from the next stall. So much gossip must go on in here! Probably most of it about how someone has accused someone else of fancying Boots the Monkey from Dora The Explorer, but still.

And when I go to wash my hands - with the tiny bar of soap, so small you really need to pick it up with twezers - I can't help but notice how the mirror, in conjunction with the lighting, conspire to give the most flattering reflection that I currently know of. I look fifteen years younger in that thing! God knows how young the kids must appear, when they look at themselves. Maybe all they can see is a vague outline of their father's sperm.

Day 2 of the Sleep Challenge

It's day 2 of our 7-day Sleep Challenge. So how are you doing?

Generally my husband and I catch up on sleep on the weekends, trading lie-ins and naps while the other runs errands and does things with the kids. But he's not here so I'm operating on a bit of a deficit. To make matters worse I used the solo time last night to stay up later than usual to reorganise the bookcases and go through some paperwork.

My vow for tonight: in bed by 10pm sharp.

Exhausted? Join our 7-day Sleep Challenge!

 
Do you think sleep is a feminist issue and, if so, are you getting enough?

Sleep experts believe that women need more sleep so what's stopping us? Whatever the excuses we routinely make - chores, bringing work back from the office, wakeful children, a busy social life, a late-night Sky-plus habit - Alphamummy wants to get as many of you as possible to prioritise your sleep for one week and see if you can manage a minimum of 8 undisturbed hours each night.

Take the daily poll and post how much you sleep you're getting, whether you manage your optimum amount and what difference it makes to you if you do.

We want to hear how easy it was to make up those extra hours and whether you had to do anything to rise to the challenge other than to stop feeling guilty.

So remember, sleep is no longer for the weak, it’s for the emancipated.

Day 1: Start the challenge by taking the daily poll and then posting whether you think you get enough sleep. Are you a drift-off-in-front-of-Casualty gal, tucked up by 10pm, or still going strong at midnight?

The 7-day Sleep Challenge: Day 1

The official first day of our Sleep Challenge. We're challenging Alpha Mummy'ers to get put aside their other responsibilities, put themselves first, and get enough sleep...at least for seven days. Whether it's a full six, eight or 10 hours, we want you to get enough shut-eye. So tell us how much you're sleeping by taking our poll each day and post about how your changing bedtime is affecting you.

So how did you sleep last night? Did you fall into bed early? Party all night? Doze off while watching TV?

Take the Day 1 poll then post about how you feel.

My entry:

I spent the evening catching on email and doing my (late) taxes. Even so, I ended up getting to bed later than I wanted, then read for a while - part of my nighttime ritual.

How long I slept last night: 6.5 - 7 hours

I had trouble drifting off despite being so tired at 8pm I felt like I could have gone to bed then.

How I felt upon waking: tired. could have slept another hour

How I feel today: Fine. Fairly alert. Not exhausted. But looking forward to an early night tonight.

Tonight's goal: Get to bed at 10:30pm

Chinese boy chained up - is it really so bad?

The picture of the little Chinese boy chained to a post while his father worked has been everywhere today. And at first it is a bit shocking. I don't want to go all Sue Sylvester from Glee on this, but actually as the story unfolds, it begins to seem a not-so-unreasonable childcare solution.

The father Chen Chuanliu, an unlicensed rickshaw driver, chained Lao Lu to the post to keep him safe while Chen picked up customers. It's been reported that last month his four-year-old daughter was stolen (apparently kidnappings are rife because of family size laws) and that his wife is unable to care for Lao Lu because she's "mentally disabled".

The boy can't go to a local nursery because the family are from another province. A Beijing district government official reportedly said, "It is actually a social issue for migrant families in Beijing. We have migrant children's schools in the capital but not nurseries."

And the father doesn't want the boy to be adopted (something that might seem to become more likely once the world looks aghast at your tether-style parenting).

One of the problems, of course, is the use of a metal chain. You can pick up a jaunty-coloured harness or wrist strap in Mothercare for a few quid and that's OK because they're made of nylon. But imagine the horror if you walked around the shopping centre led by a toddler attached to you by hardened steel links.

Obviously leaving a child unattended is not good. But isn't the real shock the circumstances around a poor father trying to earn money while keeping his child from being stolen?

More pictures of the boy

"We're afraid of our kids, and we're afraid for them"

Anthony Horowitz, author of the Alex Rider teenage spy novels, was one of the authors who spoke out against the scheme proposing vetting for adults - including authors - who came into contact with children in schools. While shortly before Christmas a government "U-turn" was reported and the authors "won" the battle. Not according to Horowitz, in an interview with Spiked Online.

‘It is not a U-turn! What they have done is that they have reacted to the most vociferous people – for example children’s authors who won’t visit schools – and said, “all right, fine”. But all the attempts to fix this have only made it worse, because they’ve muddied the waters. Now it’s unclear, for example, if a parent has to be vetted before giving another child a lift home from school. I’m not sure about the answer to that one – are you? Do you know?’

It's a really thought-provoking interview with the popular author, who worries that schemes like this disempower children from developing their own opinions about the adults around them (and using their own judgement). When he speaks on the subject, it's simply as an author of action stories. "I’m a writer of kids’ stories, I’m not somebody clever. And the Alex Rider books aren’t deep or meaningful or significant or philosophical or political or anything else.")

But his ideas do tie together some of the big problems we're struggling with when it comes to kids.

"I have this theory that we are such an incompetent generation, and when it comes to looking after the next generation we are utterly lost’, muses Horowitz. ‘We fear for our children, so if they are going to fall over in a playground, that can’t happen; they can’t go on school expeditions for fear that they will fall into a river or off a mountain or whatever. And yet it seems we are also afraid of our children. That’s the other bizarre thing about the society we live in, that so many newspaper stories are centred on children with ASBOs, or this recent case in Edlington; children who are delinquent, who drink, children who are this, who are that – so we have this terror of the next generation. We are afraid of them, and we are afraid for them."

Instead of the word "incompetent" I would say "not confident". As a society we're not sure what to do about violent children or the dangers of modern living so we run around "doing something" about it because that's at least better than doing nothing.

Individually as a parent I frequently fall into this trap - worrying about virtually nonexistent dangers and reacting with anger to wider social problems that involve children. Yet ideally I'd like to react more thoughtfully, whether about vetting of adults or punishment of children.

Read the full Horowitz on Spiked.

"Fifty Dangerous Things You Should Let Your Children Do"

This is the title of a book currently working up one of those small, enjoyable media tizzes. In the book, parents are encouraged to let their kids put CDs in the microwave, muck around with fire, lick a 9-volt battery, and drive a car, albeit under adult supervision. Although it was rejected by 16 publishers, who all feared law-suits, it is now top of the Amazon Kids' Active Books Chart  - although, to be fair, looking at the name of that chart, you do rather suspect that it consists of six books over nineteen years, and is collated by a man who lives in a cupboard.

     Personally, I'm all for it. Although I can't be arsed to buy it - my favourite Amazon Chart would be Mummys Who Just Never Get Round To That Kind Of Shit - it has now inspired me to get the kids engaging in some exhilaratingly parlous activities. After all, when I was a kid, one of the rituals we would engage in, when my mother had a new child (she had eight, so it was a fairly regular activity) was to take the newborn baby into the garden and, when mum wasn't looking, climb to the very top of our favourite tree with it, in order to welcome it into our family. In my memory, the babies would often be so young their eyes hadn't opened yet, which suggests I have in fact confused them with puppies, which we would take up the tree also.

    We regularly used to dig tunnels that would collapse in on us as we shovelled, and, when we went to our cousin's caravan-site in Wales, we would ride brakeless bicycles down an alarmingly steep hillside which ended in a very deep and rocky river. Admittedly I did once come off my bike so badly my ears rang for three days afterwards, and I kept having to touch my eyebrows, because they felt like they were in the wrong place, but, still. Over all, I think it was an admirable ethos to have been raised with. When I overhear parents now not even allowed their kids to dress up in necklaces "in case you strangle yourself", it makes me feel terribly sorry for their kids. Mainly because that particular mother in question is absolutely nuts, but also because of the lack-of-risk thing. What happens if we have a war? I mean, seriously.We're going to need some fit, hardy kids out there defending our freedom. My husband's always made it very clear that, in the event of conscription, he will dress up as a woman and assume the name "Annabel." And you know why? Because his mum didn't even let him walk to the shops until he was 12.

The rising rates of the Tooth Fairy

Yesterday my daughter's first wobbly tooth fell out, which meant only one thing: the Tooth Fairy had to sort out her rates quickly. I'd thought a pound was the "natural" cost of a tooth, but classmates had apparently been paid up to £2.50, by what seems to me a particularly spendthrift fairy. Apparently inflation has hit Tooth Fairy rates hard.

Back when you could buy a Georgian house in Notting Hill for £10 plus a handful of pocket lint, the Tooth Fairy paid out modest rates for deciduous teeth. A friend recalls getting 20p under her pillow and, growing up in Texas, I used to be thrilled with a shiny American quarter. These days the secondary market in teeth hasn't so much grown up as erupted.

Live chat 3pm Wednesday: Does praise hurt kids?

Hefty praise, bags of encouragement and loads of hand-clapping hoorays are great for kids, the thinking goes. It makes them feel good about themselves and prompts them to achieve in their academic and social lives, right?

Er, no. It hampers their ability to achieve and instills a fear of failure, say Ashley Merryman and Po Bronson, authors of Nurtureshock: Why everything we think about raising children is wrong. In a recent article in the Times, Merryman and Bronson defending their thinking - backed up by empirical research, they say. We need to shift our philosophy if we want to raise confident, resilient kids.

What do you think? Join us along with Ashley and the Times's Helen Rumbelow, who wrote the article, on Wednesday 3pm to debate the issue and discuss just how you DO raise children who won't be sleeping in the spare room until age 40.

"Do praise and rewards motivate or hurt kids' achievement?"

Wednesday, 3 February

3pm

Sign up for a reminder below. See you there!

Bad toy of the week: Her first Ouija board

As the parent of a 7-year-old girl, I have had to develop a tolerance of pink plastic objects. Personally, I find that they offend both my aesthetic sense and my notion of gender stereotyping. But we have to live and let live, don’t we?

If some people care for garish pink tat, who am I to cavil and carp? If some of those people live in my house, all the more reason for me to find it in myself to put up with their predilections.

But here is where I draw the line.

Would you be able to kill your child?

If your ill daughter wrote this letter, would you help her die?

Two stories have hit the headlines this week of mothers involved in the death of their grown children. One helped her daughter fulfill a wish to die by providing her morphine. The other injected heroin into her son herself.

Even the judge in the case of Kay Gilderdale (pictured with her daughter) criticised the Director of Public Prosecutions for ever pursuing an attempted murder charge against Gilderdale. The other mother, Frances Inglis, was found guilty.

There are big differences. Inglis's son was in a vegetative state, so she can't claim she was fulfilling his desire to die. Yet is it ever OK for a parent to judge that a child's state is to unbearable that he or she must end their life?

Getting back to the root of the issue, if your child was ill and wanted to die, would you procure the drugs, fill the syringe, inject the lethal dose? That decision might be easier when the child is 31, as Gilderdale's was. What if the child suffering is a teenager? A seven-year-old with no hope of improvement?

There seems to be a shift in public opinion on "mercy killings" but we're still wrestling with it. While untreatable cancer might be a reason to help a loved one end it all, old age and depression are less justifiable in the minds of many. Undue pressure from family could help "convince" someone that they no longer want to be a burden. And there's something unnatural about the idea of taking out of this world the child you helped bring into it.

Consider also the special role of mothers - always considered the more nurturing parent. Is that the reason that we hear more about mothers involved these kinds of cases: because they are the ones to grit their teeth and end their child's suffering even if it breaks their heart? Or do they have a proprietary feeling about their child's lives that enables them to take charge of this final moment?

Monday Memory Meme

I'm rarely organised enough to respond to memes in a timely manner. There was that great photo meme going around the mummy blogging community last week but I just couldn't get it together to go through photos and upload one that's not just good but "my favourite" (the one of the kids being blown over on the aircraft carrier? a retro-groovy one from my childhood? those Polaroids in the bottom of the sock drawer? It's so hard to decide...).

But today yummymummytips.co.uk tagged me on a memory one that I can do from the office and only have to consult my maudlin nostalgia, which is conveniently portable.

One of my fondest memories from childhood was watching The Electric Company. This was an American educational children's programme and a natural progression after Sesame Street, which by the time I was 6 was for BABIES.

Best thing, besides the great songs and silly skits, was the early exposure to some of the America's biggest stars: everyone from Rita Moreno to Bill Cosby to Irene Cara. The one I adored most was Morgan Freeman, who inspired my first big crush.

I later read that Freeman, who played well-loved characters like Easy Reader, hated working on the program, did it for the money and drank heavily to cope with feeling "like a prostitute". Oh well, you have to grow up sometime.

So now I'll tag @LindaSJones, @exmoorejane, @EnglishMum, @Erica and @Nixdminx. Please reveal a deep dark memory for our delectation.

I'm here to say: it's OK to not enjoy your baby

While surfing the web doing online research the other day I came across a new mum on an American message board having trouble adapting to her new life and responsibilities. She loves her son but "I would rather be back to the way things were when it was just me and my husband," she wrote on iVillage.com.

Mothers posted encouragement, saying practically every new mother feels this way at some point. I know I did. So far, so supportive.

But then they go on to urge her to see a doctor for postnatal depression.

Postnatal depression is serious, but why must the negative feelings associated with the sea change of becoming a parent be described away? They aren't always a psychological condition in need of medical help; sometimes they are a completely normal reaction to a small, incredibly selfish being suddenly taking all your time, energy and sleep. In fact, this medicalisation of these feelings is really quite creepy.

Is parenting better without booze?

The most conspicuous accessory for hip modern parenting these days isn't a flash thousand-pound pushchair or platinum label clothing, but the ubiquitous glass of wine. During my maternity leave, cracking open a bottle around 4 o'clock was so easy, and not just because the screw tops come right off.

Alcohol is an easy-to-reach for relaxation aid after a hard day of child-rearing, it's symbolic of those wild and free times as a singleton and it's a lot more socially acceptable in front of the kids than cooking up some Mexican brown. It's also spawned an entire genre of blogs and parenthood memoir books.

Could parenting without booze be better? Matt Rudd, author of William Walker's First Year of Marriage: A Horror Story, decided to find out. His new book William Walker's First Year of Fatherhood: Another (Sleepless) Horror Story is out in May.

This is how I was. A large glass of wine during dinner (“Freddie, stop playing with your food. Felix, your plate is not a Frisbee, etc”), a larger glass of wine during bath time (“I don’t want to get in the bath” / “I don’t want to get out of the bath,” etc. It made the witching hour bearable. It gave a certain level of insulation to the stroppy end of the day. Parents, perhaps even Alpha Mummies, need booze. There you go: I confess.

There was a problem, though. I kept falling asleep before the end of the next instalment of the Faraway Tree. Dear Enid is pretty tedious at the best of times but after a couple of glasses of merlot, the Land at the Top of the Tree is called Blissful Unconsciousness.

And being woken from an alcohol-induced snooze by a bored toddler (“But Daddy, what happens to Spoonface next?”) is not a good thing. It’s very much in the ZetaDad school of parenting.

British Mummy Bloggers post for Haiti

British Mummy Bloggers (thanksA Modern Mother, Englishmum, Liz and Eva and many others) are uniting to help spread awareness of those in need in Haiti and how people can help.

While news of problems distributing aid is disheartening, there are thousands who need help and will need our support once the issues are unsnarled. If you are a blogger, please join our campaign and post as soon as you can. Then get the word out on Facebook and Twitter, using #haiti #bloggersforhaiti.

No donation is too small. You can give at Bloggers for Haiti Just Giving Page, Save The Children, DEC Haiti Earthquake appeal and UNICEF.

If you post, please add your link below.

A Sartorialist for kids

Scott Schuman practically invented a blogging genre with The Sartorialist, showing regular people on the street with great style. Now there's something similar for children. PlanetAwesomeKids.com is "dedicated to all the inspiring, amazingly cool children of New York City and the Planet."

As a member of the world outside of NYC that's known as the Planet, I can tell you it's full of kids in cute outfits at all price ranges, posing, goofing and being silly.

The creators say, "We can all learn a lot about true style and inner light from these kids.  A child’s sense of self comes shining through in his or her style and what he or she chooses to wear...Whether they’ve dressed themselves or have been dressed by an equally awesome parent, we just love it."

Hmm. I feel two ways about kids wearing uber stylish clothes. They look great of course, but I'm loathe to spend more on my daughter's outfit than I would on mine. I also don't want her to get all hung up on how she looks and what she wears. There's enough of that lesson with Barbie sets and games that focus on shopping and putting together an outfit. Worrying about her style also affects the time allotted to getting dressed on Saturday mornings. Too much choice and it can stretch into infinity. And nobody wants a preening, simpering four-year-old fashion victim.

Is emphasizing children's "style" a good thing or just another way that adults encourage kids to grow up too fast or focus on the materialistic and superficial?

Nick Clegg v Gina Ford: who wins?

What happens when you pit the leader of the Lib Dems up against the controversial Contented Little Baby expert?

You have to hand it to Nick Clegg. With his critique of parenting expert Gina Ford's routines in yesterday's Sunday Times he showed himself to be fearlessly opinionated about bringing up baby. While he did stoop to a bit of labelling of Ford's strict methods as "absolute nonsense", his description of trying to follow them was actually insightful into the dynamic set up among parents, babies and parenting experts:

“[Using the book] was like following a sort of Ikea assembly instruction manual. It made us feel strangely passive as parents.”

He told the Sunday Times, "I will never forget — in the middle of the night, Antonio woke up. Miriam said to me: ‘What does the book say?’ I remember saying to her: ‘Okay, we have got to stop this. I have subcontracted my parental instincts to this book’.”

(This is a topic we like discussing on Alpha Mummy: just how important are parenting experts and do we put too much store in them.)

Ford responded to the criticism of her book not with a wry smile and a knowing remark that "Oh well, my book's popularity alone shows that my method works" - which is what you might expect from an expert who has sold more than 1 million copies worldwide.

Mummy Mitts: the Alpha Mummy review

Earlier this week I asked for a mummy volunteer to test Mummy Mitts - slip-on mittens that attach to the pushchair handles - to rate whether they were an innovation or accessory overload. Bridget Harrison (pictured), an Alpha Mummy reader and former deputy editor of the London Paper, put her hand up and braved the cold with them and son Joseph. Here's what she thought:

There’s nothing like extreme weather to bring out the kit-hound in one. Mt Everest-ready snow boots, fur-lined flying hat, Canada Goose expedition puffa jacket I own them all, although I don’t actually need them for 98 percent of the year. And it’s the same with oh so alluring baby kit. Before becoming a mother I swore I would say no to non-essential parenting accessories - until I got inveigled into the nappy bucket, milk thermometer, bag-cum-roll out nappy changer, door bouncer, Rockabye Baby CDs – most of them still barely used.

How much kit is actually enduringly useful, and how much a waste of space and money that seems like such an ingeniously good idea at the time? It was with this question in mind that I found myself attaching a pair of Mummy Mitts to my pushchair handlebars yesterday morning when heading to London Fields for a romp in the snow with my two-year-old.