I would like to write honestly about how I parent, and my reasons for choosing the path that I have. But i find it very difficult, when you choose to do something in a radically different way to your peers, its very hard to avoid coming across like your judging other people by default of turning your back on the status quo. I have had a number of interactions with other parents where they have either acted defensively or apologetically on hearing about my approach to parenting. Neither of these reactions is necessary, my choices are not implicitly attacking your choices or judging your ideals and beliefs. there is no way of knowing (or assessing) who is getting it "right" because there is no "right choice" there are just choices. That is one of the hardest things about living in this society the way we do, we are no longer a community unit following the accepted wisdom and following the same "rules" as everybody else.

 In our tribal history there would have been a right way to have a baby and raise a child. We would have seen our elders do it as children and we would watch our peers do it as young adults, and when it came time for us to make babies there would have been a natural order and rhythm that would beat through the collective heart of our community. I'm not saying these tribal communities always took a great line in their parenting choices, it doesn't take much research to uncover some truly weird parenting traditions, foot binding, head binding, cradle boards are some good examples, but at least they collectively made these odd choices together. We do not have that togetherness.

 the first important choice you may have to make as a parent is weather to even allow your body to go into labour of its own accord, that surely should be a given, but it is not. Being put in a position where you feel you have to own a choice about when your baby is born is very odd. My sister in law didn't even get to her due date before they started inducing her under medical advice, because her baby was "too big". She was 19 and the Dr's said it was her choice, but her and the baby would be at risk it she didn't submit to being induced. Some choice. She was induced for two weeks until finally the baby was born by emergency c-section, not because baby was too big, but because the baby's head was in the wrong position, very likely as a result of Mum laying on her back for the previous two weeks trying to be induced! I feel very sad that my sister in law went through this, she was given an impossible choice, what Mother would feel comfortable going against medical advice when your told your baby could be in danger? But she was forced to make that choice.

 Even breast feeding your child has become a politicized choice that you make, even if there are no issues with breastfeeding your child and everything is going smoothly, if you continue breastfeeding you are choosing to breastfeed. Midwives and Health visitors would look at my chart and say
"So i see your choosing to breastfeed..." and I wanted to scream at them
"I'm not choosing to breastfeed, I'm just feeding!" I had a hard time breastfeeding my first, it was by no means smooth sailing and I had to work hard at it and luckily I had excellent support from family and midwives, but again and again I came up against the fact that i was choosing to put myself through this, there was another option... I'm pretty feisty so nobody pushed the alternative option too much at me, but going back to my Sister in law, a midwife turned up at her door 3 days after the baby was born, with bottles, formula and sterilizing equipment! I cant imagine struggling through night feeds, poor latch, cluster feeding and bleeding nipples with a pile of bottles and formula sitting on the counter with a big neon sign pointing down at them saying
"THIS IS YOUR CHOICE SWEETHEART, THERE IS AN EASIER WAY..." She will forever be my hero that continued breastfeeding. It was made explicitly clear that she was making a choice (at the time the harder choice), and I think she chose right.

 Beyond those seemingly "basic" things our parenting choices are by no means a given, we all have to navigate our way through a myriad of options, hospital birth, midwife led unit, birth centre, home birth, birth pool, elective c-section, Epidural, no pain relief, hire a doula, free birth, lotus birth...and that's just getting the baby out! Things don't seem to be getting any easier or instinctive as our children grow, and I'm still having to make choices about nearly every aspect of how we raise them. We have awkward conversations with grandparents where we specifically outline how we would like them to treat our children in an array of different circumstances, we feel we can leave nothing to chance because then the whole experiment of our parenting will be void. the results will be forever skewed by the plastic flashing noisy toy that their grandmother bought them that overstimulated them, and crucially, didn't go with the design aesthetic in our living room... I choose to provide my children with wooden open ended toys because I believe they are better for fine motor skills, imagination, creativity, problem solving and are more environmentally friendly, my mother in law cant get her head around why I would only want my kids to have wooden blocks to play with when there are so many awesome blinky, flashy, plasticy, neon toys available. I find it very hard to explain with sounding like a judgmental, weirdo, hippy, tosser... which to be honest I am, so that probably why.

 Food is also difficult to explain without inadvertently causing offence
"Why don't you eat meat and dairy?"
"I believe its a cruel industry that treats animals like machines, with the added bonus that the health implications of consuming animal products will likely take years off your life...but I totally respect your choice to feed your children whatever you think is best"
 
My latest conundrum that Ive been racking my brains over is how much screen time to give my kids, as an example I will tell you what different choices my closest friends have made... unlimited screen time with no content restriction, zero screen time, Unlimited screen time with only specific content available, restricted screen time with only educational content, flexible screen time taking the cue from the child, a strict one hour a day rule that covers both games and TV... now bare in mind these are my closest friends with a parenting ethos that is close to mine (or as close as it can be in this peculiar western culture) who of us is making the right choice? How on earth will we know? and how do we decide?

 I feel like i am making so many decisions that are slightly different (wooden toys) or wildly different (I home school) from the norm, but I am living on a wing and a prayer just as much as everybody else, I have no answers only questions, so if you ever read a future blog post by me, and I say something that makes you think I'm an utter wanker...your probably right, but please don't feel threatened, judged, offended, guilty, supercilious or whatever else you may feel, I've only been given the same options you have and I've only chosen what I think is best just like you have. But doesn't it suck sometimes that we have to own those choices?

Dear parents,

As you know I am now 20 months old, and as such ready to fully participate in any conversations you may be having about your ongoing role as my "parents" . I feel it is important to have clear pathways of communication, and moving forward I would like to start digging deeper in our relationship dynamic, and start exploring ways we can make it work for all of us. to that end I have taken the liberty of addressing some of my more serious concerns.

I will no longer be a silent witness to the tyranny of life! I will have my voice be heard! I will stand and be noticed, and you will hear my words, and the words that you will hear will mainly be "NO" because your getting a lot of shit wrong and a lot of stuff pisses me off. Different things on different days but just in case your keeping score here's a rough count down...Being picked up, not being picked up, when Mummy goes to the toilet, when Mummy cooks dinner, when Mummy leaves me for a any reason that has not been pre approved, having my shoes put on, having my shoes taken off (see also trousers, socks, tee shirts, jumpers and nappy's), being strapped in my car seat, having ANYTHING taken off me (including but not limited too mobile phones, wallets, car keys, sharp knives, matches, lubricant, the toilet brush, my brothers hair, my brothers penis, my brothers thunderbird2 model, dirty used dummies that I've found in the playground...anything that I find in the playground, glass jars, the hose pipe, Granny's glasses, and any improvised baby shiv that I may have got my hands on), anytime mum doesn't have her boobs available to me... that's about it for now, but I come up with new stuff everyday.

Just in the interest of balance (and because I've heard that positive feedback can be a good way to motivate your team)  here is a list of things that make me happy (please read, remember and make every effort to action this list at all times) I am happy when I  am naked, when Mummy has her boobs out, when I am eating, when I am helping my parents with literally anything, when I have a whole punnet of blueberry's ( see also grapes, raspberry's, strawberry's and blackberry's), when Mummy has her boobs out, when I am holding the hosepipe, when I am awake at 3.00am, when I am asleep at 5.00pm, when I am awake at 12.30am, When I'm jumping on the bed, when I'm expressing myself creatively on the walls, when Mummy has her boobs out, When I've got my hands on my brothers toys (ANY of his toys), When I am balls deep in a sand pit, when I am Squishing ants, when Mummy has her boobs out...That's the list for now, but don't get complacent, I have updates everyday.

I appreciate your taking the time to read this letter, and am hopeful that it will inspire you to further your efforts in regards to your "parenting" of me

Yours faithfully

Joymonkey #2 

PS Please could we reschedule "this little piggy went to market" for tomorrow afternoon, I'm working on a really big poop, that I think will have me tied up most of the morning.

Every now and again I get an insight into how eccentric I am, I have an odd out of body experience where I imagine that my children are not mine, and I am meeting them for the first time. There they stand in front of me, both with flaming red hair and angelic smiles, that just about pull your attention away from their invariably grubby faces. Very, very grubby faces... a few days ago just after I put suncream on Joy Monkey number one, he squatted down in the dusty car park and started scraping pictures in the gravel, and then absentmindedly brushed his hair out of his eyes leaving half the car park on his face. I could have wiped it off... I had spit and a perfectly good sleeve I could have used... but I didn't.

To go with his "Stig of the dump" face, #1 has his long red curly hair tied up in a knot on top of his head, which he refers to as his "man bun"...he's 4. the rest of his attire depends on where we are, if we are home, he is naked. Naked except for a huge pair of zip up snow boots that probably wont fit him until hes 7, but his Granny bought them and he loves them, and you try talking a four year old out of a fashion choice. If we are out the chances are still good that he will be at least partially naked (did I mention he is 4?) but if not he will be wearing a Thomas the Tank tee shirt under a woolly blue body warmer, with a huge red tractor on the back, that flops madly around his shoulders and reaches down below his knees (Granny again), next comes bare legs ending with a fabulous pair of pink flashing, sparkly trainers which he calls his "sparkly warkely flashy shoes"...obvs.

As his Mother I feel it is incumbent upon me to stress how absolutely adorable he looks, because he totally does. But strangers are forgiven for taking a second look at this fashion forward ensemble and then taking a wild guess at his gender. Mostly they guess girl, I suppose a muddy, tractor loving girl is more likely than a muddy, long haired, pink shod boy?who knows.

Joy Monkey #2 has less say in his attire and therefore looks marginally less like the invention of a deranged imagination. Marginally. He is also quite frequently naked, because he is 20 months, and 20 month year olds should always be naked, because its CUTE. end of.

If the eccentricity's stopped at their wardrobe that would be one thing, but then they talk, they will.not.stop.talking. and then you really realize, Wow, these kids are being raised by stone cold nutters. Tonight just before going to bed #2 said

"I'm just going to pee on my dead plant. CAPISHE?" It was at that moment i floated out of my body and imagined this was my first introduction to this feral looking child, and i thought

"who are this kids parents?!"

"Mummy Mummy, chase us chase us!"
That call to action will be familiar with parents the world over, sometimes its met with energy and gusto, sometimes its met with an inward groan and a struggle to overcome the inertia of your adult brain. But whatever your state of mind when the cry goes up you know that inevitable, inexorably, you WILL chase your children whether you want to or not. because, lets face it, their just stronger willed than we are.

"All right!" I roar, "But you know its not Mummy chasing you don't you? its the
TICKLE-REX....RAHHHHHHH!!"

And I'm off! Galloping after my two screaming children, dodging and weaving, running just fast enough to look like I'm trying and just slow enough so I don't catch them too quickly
"I'm gonna GET YOU and then I'm gonna TICKLE YOU....RAHHHHH!"
"No Mummy please Mummy noooo!" they scream joyously running in a shambolic scramble looking over their shoulders and bumping into each other. They too are timing their speed to perfection, darting within range and then zipping away again, they fancy themselves masters of manoeuvrability, nimble footed ninjas of Tickle-Rex evasion.

"RUN!" Yells Joy Monkey number one, he's 4 and his insatiable desire to be constantly chased has improved my cardio fitness no end. Seriously all this tortuous slow motion running and squatting to pick up Joy Monkey two has given me thighs of steel!
"Shes gonna get yooooou!" Yells #1 again, Joy Monkey two is 20 months old and doesn't really understand the game but is so delirious with joy (his default setting) at all the wild running and tickling that it really doesn't matter that hes supposed to be running away from me, he's madly dashing backwards and forwards laughing so hard he cant really see through his scrunched up eyes and keeps bumping into things and falling over, which just makes him laugh harder.

The game is reaching its inevitable conclusion, the Joy Monkeys are edging closer in a delicious agony of anticipation squealing in a way that only a child on the verge of a good tickling can squeal
"MUMMMMMYYYYYY!!!" They shriek hiccupping hysterically
" I'm not Mummy, I'm the TICKLE-REX and I've GOT YOU!!! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle"
Game over for now, the game ends as it always does, me begging for a cup of tea and them begging to be chased just once more pleeeeease...