LivingwithKids

One of my friends is currently going through fertility treatment. She has been trying for three years, and everything is against her - her age, her medical history. Every month she has the awful moment when she realises that no, she isn't pregnant and the realisation that her dreams of becoming a month are slipping further and further away. It is becoming too late for her to adopt.

My heart goes out to her, not least because the odds were stacked against me becoming a mum, too. I had endometriosis,  PCOS, a pituitary tumour and suffered a miscarriage. When I was pregnant with No 1 Son I developed hyperemesis, and to be honest it was touch and go for a while.

And that's why I never, ever take motherhood for granted. I never forget that children are the most precious gift, even when they're being naughty or driving you to distraction and you're having to count to 10 not to lose your temper with them big time. (My grandmother used to say 'never go to bed on an argument' and that's always been the rule in this house.)

So today, Mother's Day, I'm thinking about those women who can't have children but so desperately want to be mums. The women who die in pregnancy and childbirth. Those whose children are sick or who have suffered bereavement. And the mums who weren't able to see their kids grow up.

Lucky doesn't even come close.

Happy Mother's Day xxx

Yesterday I was looking at the calendar on the kitchen wall, and realised it was almost full for this month (and the next). With the offspring's social life.

So far this year (and bear in mind we're only in March) there have been parties nearly every weekend, six sleepovers and 10 cinema outings. That's not counting the school disco.

How did this happen? BC (Before Children) we went out all the time. MotH goes out quite a lot for work. Me? Coffee with friends and the occasional dinner. Most nights I like to be in bed by 11pm. Rock and roll.

What about you? Do you still go out a lot, or has having children hampered your social life?

Yesterday one of my friends said something which really surprised me. ‘It’s much more difficult raising girls,’ she said. ‘With boys, you don’t have to worry about things like pregnancy.’

Well, apart from the fact boys probably do worry about things like pregnancy when they’re old enough to understand that actions have consequences, I think this is nonsense.

Raising boys comes with its own set of problems – as they grow up, they’re probably more vulnerable to dangers outside the home, for example, like fights and random attacks.

And I would say both boys and girls are equally at risk of bullying and stranger danger.

But maybe I’m wrong. What do you think?

I don’t know about you but we seem to have loads and loads of photos all over the place and I've been meaning to organise them for a while now. Which is why I was so excited to discover Photobox’s personalised Photobooks.

They’re just fab. Basically you choose which photos to include (you can have anything from 26 to 100 pages holding up to 1200 photos), and then customize each page with captions, backgrounds, fonts, colours and layouts (or you can autofill if you’re pushed for time).

Then they send the book back to you, beautifully bound, like a coffee table book. Uploading the pics can take a little time but the end results are definitely worth it.

The photo books start at £23.99 plus P&P, but if you order through KidStart you get 5% back for your kids and 2 for 1 on Photobooks and canvas prints. PLUS all orders taken in March will be entered into a draw to win one of four £50 vouchers. Click here for more info.

It's hard to believe that it's been nearly a year since Jade Goody died.

I met her a couple of times, and I can honestly say she was one of the most genuine celebrities I've ever encountered. Which is why it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she has left the bulk of her fortune to her boys.

Her children were her whole world. Unlike other celebs who seem hooked on the publicity, from the moment she became a mum Jade saw her fame as a job, an opportunity to provide for her sons. Everything she did was for them. She was the Real Mum Deal.

Jade's other legacy, of course, was to remind us all of the importance of regular smear tests.

But I think that knowing about the contents of her will is actually an important reminder of why we all need to make sure our children are properly provided for, even if we haven't got million pound fortunes. No one likes to think about the worst possible scenario, but when you have kids of course you have to, and I'm ashamed to say I've been putting it off and putting it off.

That's it. It's on my To Do list for this week.

Yesterday to the surprise of my offspring and myself, I uttered a phrase which I honestly thought I would never use.

A phrase that my mum uses regularly, which basically makes it pre-War (or older, as I suspect she inherited from her mum).

What was it?

'Wrap up warm, you’ll catch your death of cold.’

Now apart from the fact that this is, obviously, quite a scary thing to say to a child and the concept of dying because you've forgotten to put on an extra layer of clothing or a scarf could be deemed as scaremongering, what’s surprising to me is that apparently I’ve inherited more of my mum’s parenting technique than I realised.

Not that she’s a bad parent – far from it. But apart from occasional advice from Annabel Karmel and Gina Ford, I honestly thought I was making it up as I go along. (My mum was also incredibly liberal when we were growing up, and we were latchkey kids from the age of 11. Not what I want for my offspring.)

I thought I was a Maverick Mum.

*What about you - do you think you've 'learned' your parenting techniques, or do you do it your way? I'd love to know.

The White Ribbon Alliance for Safe Motherhood, including Global Patron Sarah Brown and WRA Ambassador Naomi Campbell, are asking people around the world to wear white and hold a dinner party in March to celebrate the 100th year of International Women’s Day, which is on the 8th.

Now as I can’t invite all of you round to my house unless you’re happy for it to be standing room only, I thought I would hold a virtual dinner party  - with a little help from some of my talented friends.  I hope it inspires you to host your own.

Here’s what’s on the menu:

Starter Carrot and Coriander soup served with crusty granary bread (created by Sandy from Baby Baby)

Main course
Pan Fried Sea Bass fillets with new potatoes crushed with spinach watercress and rocket (courtesy of Nick from My Daddy Cooks)
or

Tender Sweet Chicken Satay (from My Daddy Cooks) served with Persian Jewelled Rice (made by Carly at Wives and Daughters) or Butternut Squash Risotto from English Mum

Dessert Cheesecake courtesy of Lorraine from Ramblings of a Mum on the Run or Divine Chocolate’s Little Hot Chocolate Mousse. Served with cream.

Mmmmmm. Enjoy!

Heather at Notes from Lapland has written a powerful post this morning about her fears as her child recovered from an operation.

And Ellie recently wrote about The Fear.

I know exactly how they feel, because my parenting experience has been pervaded by The Fear. I do everything I can to make sure my offspring is safe, but it's the things I can't control which make me afraid.

First of all there's the asthma. If you don't have a child with asthma, or you've never encountered someone with it, you can't understand how serious it can become. I mean properly, life-threateningly serious. We manage it and it's getting better. He's sensible, most of the time. But when he's at school or at a sleepover I can't remind him to use his inhaler if he needs it and that terrifies me. I know he's worried about using it in front of other kids.

Then there's the stranger danger. This never goes away, to be honest. We've done all the right things - taught Run Yell and Tell, a password that only we know, avoid walking too close to the edge of the road, don't accept lifts or agree to go and look at puppies, and so on. But The Fear is always there.

And finally there's the What If element of The Fear, the fear of the unknown. What If they forget to look when they're crossing the road. What If they get into a fight when they're 18 and someone pulls a knife. What if they drink too much or take drugs which mean they never wake up.

I wish I could be one of those parents who doesn't seem to worry. I'm not. All we can do is arm them with the skills they need to cope with the dangers we perceive on their behalf. Maybe voicing our fears - not to them, to each other - is a way of coping with them.

One of my friends is struggling at the moment because her little girl refuses to be left alone, even for a few minutes, and she's able to climb over their stairgate, which makes doing anything extremely difficult. By the time her husband gets home from work she is too exhausted to relax properly. 'I love being a mum more than anything, but I just need some time to myself,' she told me yesterday.

I can understand how she feels, because when No 1 Son was little he went through a phase of not even letting me go to the loo without creating a massive tantrum. Major Separation Anxiety, in fact. What cured it for us was nursery - he soon realised there were far more interesting people in the world than Mummy (and they were all his height, too!) but I realise that's not an option for everyone.

If you have willing relatives then they can usually be persuaded to give you a few hours away from your offspring a week so you can go to the gym/go for a swim/meet up with your friends. But if you don't have anyone close by then even that can be difficult.

How much time do you get for yourself - and what are your tips for mums who feel that they never get any 'Me Time'?

There have been so many horrible stories in the news recently I find myself switching channels and quickly folding newspapers every time my offspring enters the room. It's not just because I'm a Cotton Wool Mum, or that I'm trying to preserve innocence as long as possible (well, maybe a little bit). But it's also because I feel there's only so much reality kids can handle, which is probably why they like magical stories so much.

Sometimes, though, there is no escaping reality. In my niece's first year at secondary school, one of her friends killed herself. There had been no warning signs. Suddenly my niece and her friends who had previously been concerned with nothing deeper than High School Musical were forced to confront serious issues like depression and suicide.

Psychologists advise you should be honest with children old enough to understand if you're struggling with money - 'tell them things are a bit tight, but you'll still have fun,' advises Christine Webber. But I know some parents who would rather go further and further into debt rather than admit to their kids that they can't buy them everything they want. I also know couples whose marriages are hanging on by a thread, but they would rather stay together and preserve the illusion of a perfect family – even though their hostility towards each other spills over into their children’s everyday lives.

So, how much reality do you think we should share with our kids?