What I look for in a childminder: tickling advice

We're currently doing 'settling in' with a childminder prior to actually starting properly after Easter. Before choosing her I read her profile and about fifty others on childcare.co.uk, shortlisted down to about 20 for an initial contact, then down to a further 3 for a visit. My husband and I both met her, we read the Ofsted (outstanding) report on her, we got references, signed contracts and are now doing a week's worth of settling in visits. Then the baby will do two short days with her before building up to two full days and in a few months' time, three days a week which will be ongoing. So we've done our homework and we're doing it all by the book. But yesterday, on our first visit, she inadvertently won me over and made me feel I'd picked the right person. The two toddlers she had that day were playing around us as we chatted. One hurt her hand on a toy and casually held it out to be kissed better, then happily went back to playing. The other threw himself at the childminder for a vigorous tickling session. When she emerged from his embrace she nodded towards my baby. "Is he ticklish?" I nodded. "His ribs and thighs." She laughed. "And his jaw?" I looked puzzled. "Make him look away from you," she said. "Then you nibble along their jaw and they find it ticklish." I nodded and we carried on chatting. Later, at home, I tried it out. He collapsed in giggles.
So yes, of course you should read the Ofsted report and get the references. But you should also check if they have tips on tickling. That's the kind of childminder I want my baby to spend time with. 

A Room of One's Own: Do Not Disturb

Well, we put him in his own room for the first time, in fear and trembling of how the night might pan out.... and sure enough he woke barely an hour later and made a big fuss. "It's going to be a bad night," said my husband gloomily, after spending twenty minutes putting him back to sleep. I hastily rolled over and went to sleep myself despite it being only 8pm, hoping to squeeze in an extra half hour or hour's sleep before the fun and games set in.

Silence....

At half past one my husband went to the loo and paused on his way back to make quite sure the baby was breathing, which he was.

Silence...

At four am he cried softly and I changed and fed him and put him back down awake. There was a bit of shuffling.

Silence...

7am, we had to go in and wake him up - he's been awake by 6.20 every day for weeks.


So, um, we apologise, baby. Looks like it's been us waking you up all this time.
Sorry about that.

Spring!

At last Spring is here so that I could take our baby outside into the garden without a marathon session of bundling up (him and me both). Instead we just walked out into the garden as we were and could touch and smell to our hearts' content. Trembling with excitement he brushed his hands across the many crisp leaves of bluebells, poked at our pebbledashing, stroked the bark of the appletrees, crushed a daffodil (I was too slow to save it), smelt lavender, sage and rosemary and when I sat him on the grass leaned forwards and grabbed handfuls, urgently stuffing them in his mouth while I tried to get them back out again. Springtime!

Spring

BY KARLA KUSKIN

I’m shouting

I’m singing

I’m swinging through trees

I’m winging skyhigh

With the buzzing black bees.

I’m the sun

I’m the moon

I’m the dew on the rose.

I’m a rabbit

Whose habit

Is twitching his nose.

I’m lively

I’m lovely

I’m kicking my heels.

I’m crying “Come Dance”

To the fresh water eels.

I’m racing through meadows

Without any coat

I’m a gamboling lamb

I’m a light leaping goat

I’m a bud

I’m a bloom

I’m a dove on the wing.

I’m running on rooftops

And welcoming spring!

If You're Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Feet

Often when I change my baby (supposing I'm at home and using our changing table in comfort, not kneeling down in a corridor or other unsuitable place when we're out) I sing If You're Happy And You Know It. As he can't clap his hands yet and I'm well-placed to do this, I 'clap' his feet together instead. He thinks this is funny. I wish I were so flexible.

At night, when he wakes to be fed (yes, this is still happening, sigh, though thankfully he only feeds once a night now) I also change his nappy. I do this first so that the milk feed will then lull him back to sleep - if you do it the other way round you end up with a well-fed and wide-awake baby who thinks it's time to play. But there is a downside, in that when you start to change his nappy he gets mad because he thinks you are not going to feed him. I said MILK, not NAPPY! I generally don't talk to him at night as this, too, wakes him up. But I've found something that cheers him up without talking. I lightly 'clap' his feet together and he stops crying at once, looking faintly puzzled but more cheerful, as though the song works in reverse.

Clap Your Feet and You'll Be Happy!

The Intelligent Stomach

When you've eaten something dodgy and been sick as a cat, afterwards it is often easy to tell what the offending item was. Mention Pastilla, a Moroccan speciality to my husband and he still shudders, years later. Somehow, your body knows which item it was, even if it was mixed in with everything else.

So it is with our baby. Along the weaning journey we occasionally offer something and after one or possibly two mouthfuls he refuses it outright. We usually switch to something else and he'll eat again happily. But beware of trying to 'fool' him by mixing the rejected substance with the more pleasant alternative. He'll eat it alright, but shortly afterwards will frequently bring the food back up - not all of it, you understand, just the food he didn't want in the first place. His stomach has somehow (don't ask me how) separated out the food into acceptable and unacceptable and sent the unacceptable straight back up.

So the moral today is, don't try to fool baby stomachs. They know. 

When Time Stands Still

Sometimes, with a baby, time goes so fast it's bizarre. I'm not sure where six months just went.
Equally, it can go very slowly, like when you've run out of games to play and you think "ah, this'll be fun," play it for what seems like ages, glance at the clock and realise it lasted all of five minutes - and now you need to think of something else to do.

Sometimes though, it stands still. I hug him sometimes and say 'huuuuuuug' to him and at these times he wraps his arms round you (and possibly gets a good hard grip on your hair, slightly less endearing) and we rock back and forth and it's such a nice moment, which feels as though the two of you are in a tiny bit of nothingness, just the two of you and the huuuuuuuug.

The other moment recently was at the pool where he does swimming with water babies. This week it was my turn in the pool and I had to walk backwards along the length of the pool with him in a 'swimming' position at the end of my outstretched arms. On the teacher's command I then had to fully submerge him, let go and keep walking away backwards, which creates a current, so that they then 'swim' alone, under the water, in your wake. I did this satisfactorily and he seemed very happy with the experience (they always do, which amazes me). But afterwards I had to check with my husband, who had been watching from the side. "Did I keep walking backwards?" I asked. "I don't remember it at all, I just remember looking at him under the water."

At least I remembered to pull him back up - the teacher told me about one mother who, whilst doing this exercise, gazed as though hypnotised into the water where her baby was holding his breath. "Amazing," she said. "Look at that. Look at him just there, like that, under the water, just floating in it."
"PICK HIM UP, PICK HIM UP!" yelled the teacher.

You have to watch out for time standing still sometimes.

Thou shalt not worship false idols

Since our baby is now six months old I feel a quick review is in order. In particular, of the false idols which are worshipped in countless charming baby images. In my experience thus far, they are a Bad Idea.

The Madonna and Child pose: You know what this looks like. You cradle the baby in your arms and look down lovingly at his face while he sleeps peacefully. Top tip: if you are trying to get him to sleep, this is a bad pose. If you put your hand where the baby's face would be and adopt this pose you will in fact realise that what you are doing is breathing on him, so he gets little gusts of cold air. Guaranteed to wake him up. Only attempt if your baby is in fact the Son of God and immune to such petty annoyances.

Holding your baby up in the air above your head like an airplane while they scream with delight. I tried this once and once only. He threw up on my face.

Cute socks in bright hues to cover up their tiny feet. I spent a day counting. I put them back on thirty-eight times.

Blowing raspberries on your baby's belly to which they respond with adorable giggles. Well they do, but only after weeks of training. The first time you do it, as my poor husband found out, they widen their eyes in terror and burst into tears.

Weaning: the cute baby with a smudge of carrot puree on the tip of their nose. So sweetly messy. So easy to clean. In reality, I've found bits of rice-cake under his armpits at bathtime. No idea how they managed to get there through two layers of clothes and a bib.

Stain removers which turn your grubby little child into a vision of pure white like some sort of heavenly cherub. Give them half a tangerine to suck on. I then invite the manufacturers to come and look at the (once) white babygro as it emerges from the wash and admit defeat.

That's just a few of them. I'm looking forward to the bit where they toddle about, taking their first, oh so special steps. I suspect bloody knees follow very shortly.

IOU: One Soul

"He's so tiny!" said my husband when our baby was born. "And he belongs to us!" Then he thought for a moment. "Well except his soul," he added. "That belongs to him." I shook my head. "No, he traded his soul to me for milk," I said. "He gets it back when he sleeps through the night for the first time."

So today, for my baby boy, IOU: One Soul. Well done!