What's your magic number?

'Congratulations!' rang round the staffroom as my friend returned from his paternity leave followed swiftly by ‘you must be mad!’ He is now the proud father of twin girls. Impressive and two weeks in his hair is not yet grey.  Even more impressive is the fact that this brings his tally of children to 5. 

As a mother of three, I take my hat off to anyone who manages more than 3. I know that it’s all about organisation and timing but I’m just not that organised, and timing was never my strong point.

Three is definitely my number!

But what surprises me is the amount of people who think more than two children is too many.  I totally agree that if a family struggles to support itself, then more than two children may not be wise, but this is surely up to the families involved.

I realise that for many two is perfect and completes their family but I always knew that if we had a choice - and the luck - then three was our number. My husband and I, both came from three, and to us that feels like the right number. 

 I love the imbalance of three and the fact that they have to share us and some times it's not their turn. 

I love the fact I have a brother and a sister and I love Sunday lunches when we all get together.

Families don’t fit into boxes. Each family is unique and has its own special number that works for it.

I know families who have one child and love it because of the freedom it affords and the time and attention they can devote to that child.

I know families who have five and enjoy the camaraderie it affords now and in later life.

Families should not be judged by their size, after all, these days, many families amalgamate through remarriage and develop into a new family with a new dynamic and a new magic number.

Family is about love and, as I have discovered, I love my third child just as much as my first.

Love for your children is not finite – it’s infinite and whether you have one child or seven there is enough for each child.

It all comes down to what your magic number is!

My dad's feet are bigger than yours!

Driving to school the other morning with my daughter and her friends I was listening to them jabber on and smiling away to myself.  This week they were discussing who had collected the most conkers.

‘I’ve got 49!’ my daughter announced proudly.

‘Well I have 72!’ her friend countered.

‘Well my brother has 87!’

‘Well my sister has 99!’

You get the picture! And by the time we reached school someone’s Granny had a 1000. (lucky Granny!)

It made me smile because children always try to one up each other, to be bigger, better, smarter than those around them.  There were no hard feelings it was simply a game that my daughter (whose granny only had 900 conkers!) lost. She was happy and he was happy after all she won last weeks’ discussion – who had the biggest feet. (Daddy – though I am still dubious!)

So I headed for the playground. Loitering by the gates, I joined some other mum’s who seemed deep in conversation.  I caught just the tail end....

‘Well  of cause, Molly can swim 25 metres’

‘Really that’s brilliant, Peter can only do 10m but I hear Jaydn can do 50m.’

‘Our Alice can do 50m and is learning to dive!’

‘Louis can dive in and swim 50m.’

De ja vu............

In light of what I had just heard in my car, I felt like adding ‘my daughter can dive in, swim 50m whilst wearing pyjamas and carrying a brick!’ but wasn’t sure the joke would be well met.

The problem is that none of those women were joking! They all desperately wanted to prove that their child could compete.

But what struck me most wasn’t their competitive nature, I’m as competitive as the next Mum, but the fact that they were overlooking the big picture.

My daughters granny had less conkers but that was ok because Daddy had the biggest feet ( still not sure!)

So maybe Peter could only do 10m but he might be a better reader than Louis.

And Molly might knock spots off Alice in maths.

And maybe Jaydn is just a lovely child.

The world is not fair and we are not created equal. But we all have talents and assets and these should be recognised. And it’s a parent’s job to be first to celebrate those differences.

So here goes:

My daughter struggles with gym but my goodness can she read!

I'm dreaming of a multi-coloured Christmas?

Christmas approaches!  I know this as the local garden centre has stopped selling plants and has filled it’s halls with everything glitzy. Tinsel of every conceivable colour festoons the shelves, shimmering baubles sparkle in every colour of the rainbow. Christmas trees, real and fake, block every aisle. All colour coordinated for that perfect Christmas. And what did I expect – after all it is the first week in October! We only have 80 days which can’t possibly be enough time unless we start now.

Seriously – 80 days – I hear you can go around the world in that!

So being the uber-mum I am, I began to think about Christmas and identify what my children might like in three months time. For inspiration, I turned to the pages of the many catalogues that land on my doormat.

Opening one of the myriad of pretty notepads I buy for no other reason than I like them, I write Christmas 2011 and underline it and then begin!

Toys by their thousands fill the pages. Aha – a cd player complete with two microphones in a lurid plastic – perfect for my budding X-factor competitor. Colour options blue or pink? Hmm don’t really do pink but I suppose this once. I jot it down neatly in my book and move on.

Right – next a doll for the toddler who loves playing mummy. Next decision, boy doll in blue or girl doll in pink?
Either - I don’t really mind as I know the clothes will be stripped off within minutes and later found in some obscure place like the Hoover bag.

So now to the boy, this should be easy as he has been hankering after a micro scooter for ages. Just need to choose which one – pink or blue?

Are they having a laugh? Are the only colours in the world pink and blue? Do our children get any other choices? It would appear not.

For a rainbow nation (to borrow a phrase) we are fairly blinkered when it comes to our children. Pink or blue = boys’ toy or girls’ toy! Our children are growing up in a society that requires tolerance and acceptance yet from their first moments we are forcing them into pigeon holing themselves.

Oh I realise the manufacturer are trying to up their sales! If I buy a pink bike for my daughter they are banking on me buying a blue one for my son to avoid the ultimate humiliation of having a ‘girl’s bike’.

Unlucky – my son spent the first three months of his life in a pink sleeping bag and still sports a pink swimming jacket without batting an eyelid. I am not going to bow to their will!

Inspired by the riot of colours I saw at the garden centre, I have decided this Christmas I am going to go out of my way to choose colours other than blue and pink, in an attempt to balance the toys we are going to get given that are so stereotypically coloured.

Come on, let’s make an effort this Christmas to buck the pink/blue trend!

Branch out pick colours that make you smile. Show the manufacturers we are not as narrow minded as they believe.

Here’s to a rainbow this Christmas!