No, I didn't change my blogroll yet, that's because my run of the evening went something like this: tidy chaos left by Cubling. switch on a machine that washes stuff. Hang up laundry. Stop to listen to Cubling scream her heart out and wonder why she does that and breathe again when cry turns to snores. switch on laptop and read my favourite blogs. Check email. Curse the laptop for being so flipping slow. Look at symptoms and images for chickenpox. That's because now that Cubling is just back at childminder after having had measles, she has a body full of big ugly spots that look vaguely like chickenpox. Not wanting to bother GP with yet another emergency appointment or my boss with yet another absence, I decide on web diagnosis. So this is what chickenpox look like:

pretty disgusting. Cubling has something that looks similar apart from the blister on the top. Her spots don't look disgusting, even if I admit they aren't pretty. And since every image I've seen has those blisters, and she hasn't got (m)any, and because she isn't scratching the spots, and because she only has about 25 250 on the whole of her body, with little change for better or the worse, I've the doctor has officially decided that she doesn't have has chickenpox and will go to the childminder tomorrow and meet up with her pals on Friday stay in isolation until further notice.
C'mon, it would be pretty unlikely to finish off the measles with chickenpox? Or is there a disease that starts with 3.5 days of 40 degree fever, develops into an all body rash that starts behind the ears and the hairline, uncannily resembling measles, before it develops biggish spots that seem to accumulate around the eye and the bum?

Next on my browsing list is Hidden Glasgow. Tomorrow I shall be cycling past the two Gorbals tower blocks of Stirlingfaulds for the very last time. They will be demolished on Sunday. It's been a long time coming and to be fair, they are extremely ugly. Yet I've been cycling past them for well over a decade on almost every working day. Twice. I can't imagine them not to be there. Here are some amazing images taken of and from them. Pictures by cumbo and Alex Glass to be found on the public forum of Hidden Glasgow. Demolition by controlled explosion is scheduled for 7am apparently. Hm, not sure if I'll manage that.

I've just come across some interesting websites which I'd like to share. If Cubling sleeps tonight for a change, I might even add them to my blogroll.

Community Info Source: A Glasgow initiative with plenty of other good initiatives contributing to it.

The Glasgow Equalities Network Forum Blog: What a name. It's a GCVS initiative (that's for Glasgow Council for the Voluntary Sector). The GCVS do great stuff, and everything they do, they do well. This blog is not very exciting visually, but it's a fabulous resource for anyone interested in equalities in Glasgow and beyond.

Oh and this one, courtesy of Clairwil: Guerilla Gardening. Oh I love that one.

A few days ago, the Independent Asylum Commission published a report entitled "Saving Sanctuary". I was very keen to read it and to find out about conclusions which may have a certain vision for where asylum could go with a strong government leadership.
You can hear the however already, can't you.
Well, to start with, the big recommendation is to get rid of the term "asylum" and replace it with "sanctuary". To set an example, they use "sanctuary" throughout the report. At the same time, they are still called the "Independent Asylum Commission", rather than the "Independent Sanctuary Commission".
Now, if you had an organisation called the Independent Sanctuary Commission, would you have any idea of what they were about? I wouldn't, and I work in the field.

So why the change of language? Well, it's along the same lines that history becomes herstory and why an actress should be called an actor. They don't like the connotations associated with a word, and rather than challenge and change connotations, we use a different word. So, asylum calls up negative connotations, is confused in the public with economic migration and therefore its meaning is not as intended.

While I can understand the argument in relation to words which have a long history of negative connotations and, above all, abusive use (such as "nigger" or "papist"), I am very concerned by the argument in relation to a term which has a clear definition, legal status and appropriate use in professional discourse. For anyone who cares to find out, it's easy to know exactly what asylum means, what an asylum seeker is, and what the asylum process in the UK is. We are dealing with a legal term, which gives legal status to a person.

Then, consider the term "sanctuary". It's derived from latin, means a holy place, and still has religious connotations. Personally, I think of birds when I hear it. Not of asylum seekers or refugees that's for sure. It's woolly, all too well-meaning and has the potential of further alienating those already critical of immigration through the asylum system.

Furthermore, I'd like to challenge the issue that the commission has with "economic migration". Again, I understand it - anyone supportive of having a well functioning asylum system tend to stress that asylum seekers are not economic migrants. But to be honest, economics affect us all, and the reason for war, displacement, hunger, torture etc are always economic. Where do you draw the line, and how can you draw the line? Is someone who flees their country in the light of people burning their lifelihoods not an economic migrant? Doesn't economics and the gulf between rich and very poor create the basis for ware, abuse and the need to flee a country? I think it does.
Of course, not every economic migrant is an asylum seeker, but I don't see the term "economic migrant" as intrinsically evil or at odds with seeking asylum.

Wouldn't it be more productive to continue raising awareness of what it means to be an asylum seeker, how few asylum seekers there are in comparison to other immigrants in the UK, and how incredibly difficult it is to be granted asylum? I certainly won't change my job title just yet.

Cubling has been scraping the 40 degree mark for 48 hours now, most of the time sat on my lap, cuddled into me and half asleep. Calpol and Nurofen are her only food, and still the temperature doesn't go down. Now I don't only feel sorry for her but also for my employer who doesn't get their money's value out of me. Other than that, I'm quite enjoying it because for once Cubling is calm and sits on my lap, it's lovely to snuggle up like that and I get to see In the Night Garden and Co at last, getting up to date with what's en vogue with the kiddies these days...

As you can see, I'm a bad mum and even worse I managed to give her a double dose of Nurofen. Dutifully I called NHS24 when it happened, but to be honest, somehow I had a feeling I wasn't the first mum getting the 2.5 and 5 ml spoons confused when switching between two medicines. When the call back from NHS24 took over 2 hours, I already knew Cubling didn't need her stomach pumped. Mind you, she slept well with it and it did bring down her temperature for a couple of hours.

Admittedly I'm getting a bit worried. This is the first long bout of fever and there are no other symptoms. Should I say yet? Who knows what's in store. I wouldn't be surprised to find a green rash all over her body any time now. Question of the day is of course if I'm pain in the bum if I go back to the doctor tomorrow or if it's a necessary course of action.
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update: 4th day fever is down, cubling constantly bawling now asleep on my right arm, and has a nasty rash. mumsy panicky and after requesting 3rd emergency appointment in a week. not sure if i feel more guilty or more panicky.
some time later: panicky won. Got another GP appointment and we now know it's the measles. Typical - she should have had her MMR by now, but 2 immunisation appointments delayed due to travel and she's beat the MMR to it. I'm gutted because I haven't had the measles yet - so I don't just have to take special leave off work because Cubling is ill, but am likely to be off sick for 8 days myself. Can they not offer MMR to parents as well?
And advice to other mums - stay clear of the complications list for measles. It's scary stuff. I'll be worried for the next 10 years now.

A post on another blog, which I simply had to comment on quite strongly, really hit me hard when I read it. The criticism was that extended breastfeeding, which implicitly I understand to be that of children over 12 months, as creepy. Well, Cubling is almost 14 months now and she's still at it. Mind my choice of language, I said she's still at it. I had just endured another failed attempt to stop and various people greeting me with "are you still breastfeeding?!" and the last thing I needed at the time was being called a creep by a blogger I respect.

I for my part had every intention to stop at 6 months when Cubling was born, naively assuming that exclusive breastfeeding is followed by none at all. When she was 6 months and I knew a bit more about babies, I decided to continue until 9 months. When she was 9 months, I dared to go the full recommended minimum of 12 months - after all, now it was so easy. Now at 14 months, as she can eat everything, drink cow's milk without any danger to her health, now that I know she doesn't have food intolerances, there aren't many reasons to continue breast feeding. Or so I thought. Granted, there is still a health benefit for baby and mum, but really, it's a good time to stop.
So I tried.
After 2 months of trying, Cubling still feeds mornings, evenings and during the night. On the days I'm off work, she feeds twice during the day. I successfully managed to reduce the latter to once, but here is where I'm stuck.

You see, I've got a very strong-willed daughter. She point blank refuses to drink from a bottle - at home (because she takes it fine well from the childminder). Cups? Well, we sip a mouthfull and then turn it upside down to make Mullematsch. So my great theory was that she'll drink if she gets really thirsty. I usually try this until she embarks on a right old tantrum and cries unconsolable, tucking at my shirt, until after an hour or so, I relent. Even worse at bedtime: My attempt to stop that feed and replace it by a bottle was greeted with a tantrum of such nature that she didn't just not drink but also brought up her dinner, distributing it evenly across her cot and the carpet. In general, I think I throw about two thirds of each litre of milk down the drain because she refused bottle or cup.

However, if I do breastfeed her, she comes off with the most charming smile there is, as if there's no place and time where she could be happier rather than after a tasty feed. When she's overstimulated, it calms her down, grounds her and we can all relax. For me, I still get the sleepy and relaxed hormones, and to be perfectly honest, it calms me as much as her. We sometimes even get a much needed 10 minute nap. At night time, when dealing with her frequent wakings, breast feeding gets her back to dreamland in just five minutes, rather than the two hours of entertainment if a feed is refused. She does occasionally sleep through so the arguments that I'm creating a habit or she can't fall asleep on her own don't count.

I really struggled with breastfeeding at the beginning. I was so incredibly sore and Cubling fed for such unreal lengths and fequency that I know I would not keep it up if ever I had another baby like her. Yet I was stubborn and after introducing solids, breastfeeding finally became truly easy. I work hard on stopping, and stopping isn't easy if your toddler likes it so so much. For her, it's not just the food. It's the closeness, the comfort, the cuddle she gets. As a very active baby, this is the only time she calms down and recharges. I've got a very real feeling that she actually needs this, because of her nature.

Considering how much Cubling likes it, that it doesn't bother me (I even admit to enjoying the calmness and closeness with her that it gives me), the health benefits, and the fact that apparently human children are designed to nurse as long as 5-7 years (yep, I was very surprised to hear that and certainly have never had and still have no inclination to continue that long) there are many reasons to continue and only one to stop. That would be that I'd like to be able to spend the night apart from her. Not now. But sometime by her second birthday.
So I'll keep trying but will fall short of creating tantrums, because that's just making something hard for us that doesn't really need to be hard.

Extended breastfeeding has lots to do with mum and child, and very little with relationship problems between mum and dad as the blog post implied. I do sympathise with Mother at Large that criticism of parenting aspects from fellow mums can be taxing, it gnaws away at the little confidence you have in this new and demanding role. She shouldn't have been criticised for no longer breastfeeding her toddler. However, the constant chorus of "are you still feeding her yourself?" that I get to hear gnaws away at my confidence just the same, and only those mums who've been there have this flicker of understanding in their eyes when I say yes. Everybody else seems to think I'm a freak, while I'm simply a mammal. It's hard not to become defensive, and maybe some extended breastfeeders go on the offensive by way of a reaction.

I find the ideological fuss created around the topic quite astounding, regardless of whether it is about when or when not to stop, why never ever to use formula or bottles. Can we all just relax and get on with more important things in life?

I'm now officially a pushy mum.
On Friday morning, Cubling attended her first session with the National Youth Choir of Scotland, or rather, their outreach programme known by the name of Mini Music Makers, and this morning she had her first proper swimming lesson.

The latter went quite well, after months of acclimatisation to the wet element. Now finally, she enjoys the splashing and even demonstrates by trying to throw herself over the railing of the baby pool that she's quite ready for the big pool. I only felt sorry for the other wee girl Cubling's age who didn't enjoy it at all, she was clinging to mummy as if she were about to drown and don't I know what that feels like. The tutor even turned out to be rather good, in spite of the bossy way she has with parents.

The mini music makers didn't go quite as smoothly. While Cubling is getting good at the toddling, she may be as fast but isn't quite as mobile as an 18 months old and I think that was about the age of  the next youngest child there. Walking in rhythm? No way, walking as such is still a skill to be practised. Stroking down a xylophone? Banging is much more fun! Pointing at the sheep in the book? Sorry mate, just at home. Sitting on mummy's lap? You MUST be joking. Cubling quite took to the session tutor and kept running towards her, especially during quiet time, where babies are supposed to hug their teddies on mummy's lap and listen to some classical music from a tape. Cubling does not do quiet time.

Which prompted me to do a little websearch for "very active toddler". The baby whisperer has the answer: Her temperament apparently is that of the spirited toddler. Oh dear. She's possessed. I've given birth to a ghost. Admittedly, it was rather amusing reading the description of the spirited toddler and recognising Cubling in every letter of it.

One of my German friends who embarked on the having children route about five years ago sent her older son to a Waldkindergarten, a wood kindergarten. I thought the idea a bit strange at the time, but since I've changed jobs to one that includes work on pre 5 services, plus the interest in development and education that crops up when you have a baby, I'm now quite intrigued.

Wood kindergarten were a Danish idea and they are very popular in Germany, there's even one in my home town as I discovered. The idea is that the child spends the whole day outdoors, exploring the real world, and only playing with items found and transformed in the outdoors. Usually, the venue is a forest, but the concept can also be implemented in areas that don't have forests. I have not heard of a single Waldkindergarten in the UK, but maybe that's just because I haven't exactly looked out for them. Glasgow, so much is for sure, does not have one. Why not I wonder? The weather argument is rubbish, Germany gets its fair share of rain, snow, ice, wind, thunderstorms and heavy downpours, even if it is generally a bit dryer and warmer. The advantages for young children are immense: they play with real materials, use their imagination rather than be overwhelmed by flashy, colourful and noisy plastic toys, they gain confidence by testing their mobility limits and the consequences of moving on surfaces which have not been child proofed to the extreme, learning about cause and effect and how to be careful while adventurous. It instils an appreciation for nature, ensures gallons of fresh air and exercise. I would love to send Cubling to one.

In fact, I think there's a serious niche in the Pre 5 market. If I was qualified in this area, I would go for it. Establish a Waldkindergarten in Pollok Country Park. Much better than the silly Go Ape that's planned for the park bequeathed to the people of Glasgow by Sir John Stirling Maxwell (who incidentally also owned the land that our house is built on). Seriously, anyone interested in taking up this idea?

Cubling is now ascertaining her independence in relation to food. She's found her love for banana and would happily eat it all day, mixed with a bit of buttered bread. Baby food jars? No thanks. Happy to eat anything pasta-ish or mushy from mummy's plate too. Not too strong in taste though, melon, pineapple, salty (thankfully) and spicy stuff are not yet appreciated. Raisins are still fed to mummy and daddy with great enjoyment, sometimes even to the red penguin. She's getting proficient at tantrums which look very cute, and I really have to try and stop laughing at them.

This time around, we successfully avoided Ryanair for our trip, getting a cheap flight with Germanwings. On the outward journey, my verdict was a big thumbs up. I got to sit with my beloved, we got to get on the plane first, and they had sat us in a row without squeezing another person beside us. Coming back, we didn't get priority boarding but once again had three seats for us, which made a lot of difference with a 13 months old who does not sit still for even a second. Just when I had proclaimed that surely plain journeys can now only get better, hoping that language development would help to communicate the concept of having to sit still for take off and landing, a 19 month old behind us embarked on a 30 mins tantrum. Ok. It can get worse. I had to giggle throughout the tantrum though because for once, Cubling was not the most vocal baby, and I could relax in spite of her constant wiggling, moaning, crying because it was easily surpassed by the tantrummy toddler.

Then, she said "mummy". Loud and clear. I looked around if it came from another baby, but no, it must have been her. Ahhh. (She didn't repeat it by the way)

I have about 4 posts in the production line, not enough time to finish them due to selling my old flat and utter madness at work, so I'm pretty brain dead when it comes to the evening. I haven't exactly been tagged, but since Midwife Muse was so kind as to respond to my tagging her, I thought it only fair to return the favour. Plus, this is a much better meme than the one I burdened on five people before. So here it goes.
I won't tag anyone this time because a) I think 8 is too many, b) I don't want to be a nuisance, but if you feel like joining in, please do so and let me know in the comments box.

Remove 1 question from below and add in your personal question, make it a total of 20 questions, then tag 8 people, list them out at the end of this post.

1. What do you really really want right now? Take out those silly contact lenses and have a tasty dinner without Cubling screaming blue murder. Get tipsy. Then sleep for eight hours. See, I can be easily pleased.

2. If you can turn into anything, what do you wish you can turn into? an inspiring speaker or writer

3. How are you feeling now? Tired but relaxed after a day spent with other mums and babies, and with Cubling having conked out on the living room carpet.

4. Where is the place that you want to go most? Too many in the top list, New Zealand, Peru, Thailand and Nepal to mention but four

5. If you have one dream to come true, what would it be? Live in a just world

6. Do you want more children? Sometimes. Actually, yes, but then I'm worried I'll have another whirlwind like Cubling and won't be able to cope with the two.

7. Do you think religion is redundant? No, it seems part of human nature.

8. What cheers you up for the rest of the day? When Cubling comes home and does a full body smile, or her first "da" of the day (upon waking).

9. If you meet someone you love, would you confess to him/her? No, unless it was reciprocal. In that case, sure I would

10. If you were a colour, which would you be? Purple or turquoise

11. Of all the things you've done in your life, what are you most proud of? Cubling of course. Other than that, having run a marathon in spite of being Miss Unsporty. Going abroad as an au-pair after finishing school in spite of nobody (including myself and my parents) believing that I'd last the year. Interestingly, not my PhD.

12. What type of person do you hate the most? People who have no respect for others, in the worst form, who are violent and abusers.

13. What would you do if you won a million dollars? Stop working for a few years, or work only two days a week, so I'd have time for my 28 hobbies or to spend time with my friends. Get a slightly bigger house. I mean, we've got a fabulous place and I'm really happy with it, but I wouldn't say no to an additional bedroom and a bigger garden. Then I'd really have to work less to get time for it. Some of it I'd donate to small and forgotten charities though. I don't think I need that much money.

14. What would you wanna be remembered for after you’re dead? Not to have wasted the time I was given maybe, but really I don't care if I'm remembered or not. If I am, great, if not, so be it.

15. If you have a chance, which part of your character would you like to change? My impatience and indecisiveness. That was a joke. I'd only change the first, the second I quite like.

16. What do you think if you look out of your window right now? Those fuchsias need a gallon of water.

17. What do you think is the most important thing in your life? My family

18. If there’s one thing in your life you wanted to do but yet unable to, what would it be? One thing? There must be loads. To keep with a previous post, give birth myself. That's the only thing that comes to mind at the moment. It's not the most important thing though. I'm not that obsessed.

19. What do you see yourself as in the next 10 years? A mum, a friend, a wife, a daughter, a colleague

 20. If you were an animal, what would you be? A squirrel

You know that you're getting old and boring when you start getting interested in your family tree.

In my case, this has taken the form of an obsession with a painting which has been in my parents' flat since I was about three. The story goes that my cousin, who was 4 or 5 at the time, played with some toys and managed to fling them right into the painting, damaging it severely. The cost of the repair was quite high and my aunt/uncle weren't willing to pay for it, while my parents' were, so we paid for it and got to keep it. Since then, it's been in the living room. All I know is that it's my great great grandmother, or my great great great grandmother. The latter would make it Cubling's great great great great grandmother which is quite mindboggling. There is no name, no nothing.

So when in Germany among the toy flinging cousin's parents, I started to ask questions. The painting is a sore thumb in our family. I don't think my aunt/uncle ever forgave themselves for not paying for the restoration, and subsequent loss of this item of familiar jealousy. The good side of this is that I opened the floodgates by only mentioning the painting. What I got is piles of photos of birth, death and marriage certificates. It's all very exciting, and we settled that the woman on the painting is probably my great great grandmother. We even found a potential name for her. Or rather, a name who could potentially be her. If this is so, the painting was done in 1912, a few years before her death. Interestingly, but utterly unrelated, that's the same year that our new home was built.

Now I'm looking for recommendations on good genealogy tools to put the pieces together.