Goodbye Mimi

Any day now could be the last time I'll ever breastfeed. It's such a bittersweet time.
On the one hand, I've been looking forward to the last breastfeed for about a year, because it's just a bit uncomfortable feeding a growing toddler/pre-schooler. On the other hand it'll be the end of mothering small children, and in a way we're still hanging on there in that respect.

We haven't nursed in public for a long time now, and only very occasionally in the presence of good friends. That's ok, I appreciate that it's not the norm to nurse beyond a year, and the few negative comments I got did hurt so we kept it hidden. But I'm too defiant to keep it hidden good and proper, after all, I'm not a blogger if it wasn't for a certain happiness to share what matters to me.

All in all I breastfed just over 5 years, and considering the rubbish start to it I had, when I literally kept going just for one other feed, and repeat, I am happy and somewhat proud of this achievement. Not in a way that should make anyone feel less than good about themselves, but there's no harm in feeling good about something.

Snowflake sure was attached to her mimi, This recommended weaning approach of "don't offer, don't refuse" would probably mean she'd still be exclusively breastfed. I had secretly hoped for self weaning but it became pretty clear that this child won't self wean. We've been trying seriously to fully wean for about a year (a process that took a month with Cubling). This is what she says about mimi: "It's so yummy, it tastes like chocolate, cheese, yoghurt and strawberries". Tonight, for the last time ever, I fed her to sleep. This magic moment when you watch your baby relax all muscles and surrender to sleep.The calmness, oneness, the being in the moment of it.

She hadn't asked for mimi in 4 days but I needed at least one last feed that was a proper closure, rather than the reluctant, half asleep 4am one that was the previous potentially last feed. Of course I don't know if this was it for good, but we're not far off.

While I'm a bit nostalgic about moving on, it's the right time too. This child of mine is growing up, she is independent and really doesn't need this particular comfort anymore.

I'm holding on to the memories, lest I forget, recalling them in these last suckles.
Syringe feeding her colostrum in hospital, my mucussy c-section baby.
The frst proper milk feed, still in hospital, and her milk drunk face captured on my phone.
The amazement when I realised that breastfeeding could be pain free. The anger when I realised that something could have been done about the pain I'd experienced 3 1/2 years earlier and that it was only now that I found out about tongue tie and lip tie.
Waking up due to fullness and this tiny moany cry right beside me, instead of sleeping through and possibly waking up to her never waking up again.
Feeding her through her illness, keeping her nil by mouth twice pre-op, and the comfort that those hospital feeds brought us both. When it seemed that her health is outwith my control, it gave me something I felt I could do for her.
Feeding her in almost every place imaginable.
Feeding her through smaller illnesses, when she regularly refused all other food, she never refused this, which was reassuring.
Walking out of the GP surgery after a tirade of how I should stop breastfeeding instantly (she was 10 months), without a word because I knew there was just no point in arguing.
That first feed to reconnect after nursery pick up when I returned to work. That last feed before leaving her, in the nursery chair (she never took the formula offered, and opted to wait for my milk on my work days)
Being confused by people saying how it's so hard for me to be still breastfeeding when actually, it's not.at.all. Breastfeeding was never a sacrifice I made, and somehow people still saw it as such.
Being amused at my beloved Mr Cartside telling everyone who cared to listen, regardless of how well we knew the person, how she's still breastfeeding, at 1,2 and then 3 years of age, and secretly enjoying how uncomfortable this disclosure made some people (and understanding their discomfort).
Far too many breastfeeding discussions initiated by me in the office (although I really didn't mean to)
Learning so much about the politics of breastfeeding and infant nutrition and how we as a society are being conned for profit.
Developing and expanding an interest in infant nutrition, and realising how critical an area this is for the nation's health.
The delight when Save the Children took up the importance of breastfeeding in the first hour after a baby's birth and took on Danone and Nestle. And developed a proper breastfeeding policy (too late for my babies but it's there for those soon to be born).
The chuckles had when my request for a room suitable for private expressing in the new office was passed on to the project manager responsible for setting up the new office. It was clear she (!) had never considered the idea of expressing milk and that someone would do this at work (surely, working mums don't breastfeed? They do? Really? How bizarre)
And of course the endless cuddles while feeding, the smiles while feeding, the relaxation and time out it gave me, the excuse to sit down and stop and admire my miracle baby.
The pride when my then 3 year old told the nursery that while the baby they were role playing with had a bottle, her own baby drank mimi. Even a 3 year old can challenge the normalisation of bottle feeding.
And here's hoping that my youngest, who won't see me nurse another baby, may remember in some way how nice mimi was and pass it on to the next generation.

And that's only the memories of my youngest's breastfeeding journey.

How not to raise your child on junk food

Well over 6 years into this parenting experience, it feels like either I'm on a different planet or that the gods of profit and consumerism have conspired against me.

Was I naive thinking I could raise my kids on a reasonable diet, that is nutritious, varied and does not destroy their precious bodies?

Every day, the pestering is endless, the black and whiteness of liking or hating food is doing my head in and it feels very much that as a parent I have no influence on my children's diet.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not the exclusively organic cooked from scratch with no sugar, salt or additives kind of mum. Like other working mums, cooking has to be quick and I'm also not exactly someone who gets satisfaction out of preparing a complex meal. I do think I'm the average mum who simply wants her kids to eat reasonably healthy, with a decent variety, while instilling positive eating habits and a joy of food.

However, I'm on my own.

All around me, there's junk food.
There's junk at school and nursery. They call it healthy meals. But fish comes in fingers, burgers without veg, and pizza with pasta.
There's junk at the swimming pool/sport centre. Every single vending machine sells junk. Every Glasgow Life cafe counter is filled to the brim with junk.
There's junk at the supermarket/kiosk/ every effing shop that we pass.
There's an icecream van parked between school and swing park that has to be passed on the way home from school.
There's junk at the school disco.
There's junk at every single school event.
There's junk at parties and those parties are plentiful.

Home becomes a bubble and because of the amount of junk food virtually everywhere, I feel I cannot even allow a treat at home anymore because they had so many elsewhere already, and I become the bogeywoman who doesn't let her kids have a treat.

Any food that is not a favourite is hated. And favourites are demanded. The cry for sweeties, snacks and treats is constant (my youngest had a phase where she must have had the idea she could have marshmallows for breakfast and every morning began with a tantrum when there were none). My "no's" are constant too.

At school, the children are taught about making healthy food choices. Just that they can't actually make healthy food choices. It's simply beyond a 6 year old to choose salad over a bun, and it doesn't help that the message is received in a very warped manner (apparently, because bread is healthy, as is milk, it's enough to just eat bread and milk).

It's not a secret that an ever increasing number of children are overweight, that we are in the midst of an obesity epidemic that brings with it heart disease, diabetes, cancer and possibly other illnesses. It's costing us as a society a lot of money. Yet we won't bow to the pressures of the profit makers who sell us rubbish food, and let them market the food to our children in an unashamed way. They give the illusion of healthy snacks (cereal bars anyone? Fruit juices?). There's the argument that kids wouldn't eat the healthy options (yes, maybe for a while until they realise that's what there is and if they are hungry they'd better eat it). But really, are we so keen to just give up on our kids and let them indulge as if there was no tomorrow? As a society, we are reducing the life expectancy of our children significantly, and nobody seems to care because it's all big business.

So the school fundraisers have junk tuck shops to raise funds for the school (I'd be happy to pay for my child not to be exposed to the tuck shop). If I don't give money for the tuck shop, child feels excluded and is upset, and a teacher or parent is sure to give her some money to make her happy again. School dinners establish questionable food preferences under the health umbrella, or offer so many choices that every child is sure to be able to avoid all fruit and veg and binge on simple carbs and processed junk.

And here I am little mummy average, trying to fight a losing battle, with only two choices left: give in or take it on.

Jamie Oliver and Effing massive TVs

So Jamie Oliver had a go at how families on low incomes shouldn't spend their money on massive effing TV sets but rather make a tasty dinner with 25 mussles and pasta for 60p.

And then he defended himself on the One show by saying that he does more good than harm and that it was all a media outrage that wasn't to be taken seriously.

As soon as I read his initial comments, I was deeply unsettled. The main reason for this is that he feeds into already well established perceptions of the poor being to blame for their misfortune. This is neither true nor helpful.

Let's look at the big picture for a moment: The UK is the 4th richest country in the world, yet rife with income inequalities. We are a rich country yet 1 in 4 children grows up in poverty. Apparently the richest earn well over 250 times as much as the poorest. And there is no way that the poor are to blame for this sorry and unnecessary state of affair. It is true however that the it is in the interest of the rich to blame the poor for their own plight, so that they can defend their own position to be one of merit achieved by hard work and strive.

Personally, I don't think any meritocracy can account for 263 times the income of the poorest, to me that's just greed and selfishness, and if you call me a socialist for saying this, feel free.

Anyway, fact is that in an unequal society is that as long as the public opinion blames the poor and justifies the rich, the status quo can be maintained. Jamie Oliver has done just that. And that is deeply wrong, unhelpful and actually works against some of the really good work he does. It particularly pains me because I like the bloke otherwise and think he has indeed done heaps for making cooking be cool, and ensuring that our kids get decent food at school.

His comments were also misled because they were patronising (he offered a hug to the poor, as if they need a hug, that's not bringing any food onto the table last time I checked) and simplistic. A massive TV? Well, maybe that was acquired before the crisis point, or given by a relative, or maybe it's the one and only item of "yes" in a life dominated by "no's" as the Guardian rightly pointed out.

Interestingly, Jamie Oliver also points out that cooking from scratch is so much cheaper and better for you. I wonder why he sells a range of ready made meals then, making a fortune from them. But more to the point I would actually defy that this is the truth. With the price of fruit and veg, and even staples like rice and bread going up while prices of ready meals are going down, it is actually cheaper to get your 10 (horse) burger pack from Farmfoods. If you even want to buy organic or locally produced food, the price tag is unaffordable even for middle income families, because food is the one cost that can be controlled more than others. If you have a bill for rent, that's paid first: eviction is more serious than having rubbish food for a week. Some examples: a can of coke is less than a bottle of water. When I was a student with very little money to live off, I would eat a chocolate bar and a packet of crisps which was and still is cheaper than a sandwich. And where exactly would I pick up the mussels Jamie mentioned? They are not exactly kicking about in Glasgow. Most housing estates are devoid of any decent shops - it's your farmfoods, overpriced newsagent and chippy and that's that. No market, no fresh veg. If you want that, you need a car or an ever increasing bus return fare to get to the nearest supermarket. I'm not sure where Jamie's idea of that market stall comes from, but it's certainly not the average housing estate in Glasgow.

Then there's the cost of cooking. Gas, pots and pans, even a hob are not things that families on low incomes can take for granted. Nevermind the cost of ingredients - it's nice to do it from scratch but herbs are over a pound a glass and you'll need a few of them to get you started, not exactly attractive if you can get cheap convenience food that fills your tum and tastes ok and can be cooked in 3 minutes in the microwave.

Next up is the whole concept that apparently rubbish nutritioun it's a problem of the poor. Rubbish nutrition is a problem of this country, regardless of income. The rich and middle classes have the means and resources to cook well but do they do it? Convenience food is convenient for them too. Making nutrition into a class thing just misses the point. I am middle class and overweight. My diet is not the best (although it's not the worst) and like everyone else it's bloody hard to resist the ever present temptation of sugar, carbs and convenience foods. Cooking from scratch is a daily hard choice that isn't made easier by the conundrums of working family life. Kids are influenced by their peers and demand fish fingers instead of fish, baked beans instead of lentil bake, and sweetened yoghurts instead of natural yoghurt. And when your children once again tell you they hate what you cooked, the fish fingers are more than tempting because you really don't want to be wasting food again.

Should I also mention that Jamie is one of the rich, who has no experience of the reality of being poor and human decency would dictated that he should keep his gob well shut about experiences he is so far removed from that he has no idea what he is actually talking about.

Above all, Jamie's comments have nothing to offer other than alienating audiences and contributing to perpetuating stereotypes that need to be challenged instead. I'm sure he's done his own campaigns more damage than good (although being in the news with patronising comments is probably in the end good for his profile). Instead, he should offer inspiring and fun ways of cooking with limited resources (i.e. that don't necessitate his cook books, utensils and fancy ingredients), and just be what he's best at: contagiously passionate about food.

And then, if he wants to go a bit further, how about tackling the reasons for this country's inequality and campaigning against the shame of this countries poverty statistics, for a fairer society where no child has to go hungry.