The pack consists of a short-but-useful booklet (my favourite kind) and a set of cards – whimsical, humorous illustrations on one side and an activity or prompt on the other.

Littlest wasn’t terribly impressed at first – I think I was too keen to Do A Fun Learning Activity. However, a few days later, seeing me absorbed with the pack, Littlest came over and started to study the pictures carefully, then started to point and name things. Finally, she took all the cards from me entirely and sorted them into piles. They later ended up in her much-prized Fireman Sam backpack which is a sign of considerable respect.

One of the things I like most about the pack is that has been so well-thought through:

• all of the activities are very easy to incorporate  into daily life.
• the activities don’t require any special equipment or planning (perfect for my level of organisation)
• there are specific suggestions to make each activity either easier or more challenging for your child
• the ideas are simple to communicate – Mr Enemy, like many fathers, isn’t inclined to read up on child development himself but is delighted to have a some easy-to-use pointers.

I have to admit that I was also heartened that I’m already doing some of the activities already, like playing stop and start games, playing and repeating things – it’s a very encouraging resource with a lovely gentle-but-fun feel.

You can buy Chatting With Children here.

I hadn’t heard of ICAN before receiving the pack but their website makes for interesting reading – both for help with your own children, but also to find out more about the many children in the UK who struggle with communication. Apparently 1 in 10 children do, which is 2-3 children in EVERY classroom. In deprived areas, it is estimated that 50% of children starting primary school start with poor language skills.

I was pretty startled by those facts – communication is something which we tend to take for granted but is such a critical life skill. If you’re interested in getting involved, check out the Mad Chatter’s Tea Party taking place 1st – 8th March 2013.

ps The pack I reviewed is aimed at 3-5 year olds but any parent with a question or concern about their child’s communication can contact the I CAN Help Enquiry Service for a call or email from a speech and language therapist – visit www.ican.org.uk/help

© Teamarbeit | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

So tomorrow I’m joining 500 mothers at Britmums Live!, a conference for parent bloggers. Just imagine it: rampant, roaring hoardes of lovely ladies – lunchbox-preparers; bottom-wipers and schoolbag sherpas – descending on the city of London in a burst of spots, stripes, Cath Kidston florals and laptops.

Am I excited?  Hell, yes! Part of that is about being an IGU (Independent Grown Up) for two WHOLE days and two WHOLE nights. Part of it is about learning, stimulation, inspiration and connecting. And part of it is, of course, the prospect of drinking alcohol and not having to get up the next morning at some ungodly toddler-decreed hour.

I haven’t been to this sort of thing before, but I’m hoping and/or expecting:

• to be inspired by the workshops and the speakers
• to connect with other parents who, like me, are trying to balance family life with creative pursuits
• to be slightly overwhelmed by all the possibilities – both at the conference and afterwards
• to feel severe and unremitting ipad envy

Butterflies
Having had great intentions earlier in the year to connect with more parent bloggers online (aka get off my butt and do more commenting) and having not in any way shape or form lived up to this intention, I am very happy about the Britmum Butterflies.

This is a truly inspired idea – a desk, manned by friendly delegates who are up for chatting to Those Who Know No-one. All delegates will be given an optional butterfly sticker to stick on their name tag to show that they up for a chat. I shall wear mine on my forehead.

Reporting
I’m also going to be reporting on three of the many sessions I’ll be attending:

1. Roundtable: British Blogging Now
2. Blogger’s Studio: Getting Published
3. 360 Media

These will be published on the Britmum’s site so check back here & I’ll post a link to them when they go up.

It is hard to believe that tomorrow I will be luxuriating an in East Coast Rail carriage, with five whole hours alone to read and write and knit and drink tea. Yes, such is my life that a long train journey taken alone is cause for considerable excitement in itself.

Speaking of excitement, while the prospect of being away for two full days is, to be honest, absolutely bloody wonderful, I also fully expect that by the time the train is crawling up the beautiful coast of Northumberland, an hour or so from Edinburgh, I’ll start looking at my watch. Then, I’ll be wish the train would go faster. Then I’ll get sort of itchy and fidgety. That will soon turn into a desperation, a physical ache, to wrap all the Little Enemies in my arms again.

When I’ve done that, I’ll give Mr Enemy the biggest smacker of a kiss for holding the fort and letting me be an IGU for two (WHOLE) days.

It's big, baby

A while back, I published my most popular post ever – it was called Introducing… Scone Watch and it was basically a cunning plan which involved visiting nice cafes, eating scones and writing about them.

I haven’t done nearly as much scone eating since then as I had hoped but –breaking news –  I have found an excellent scone which richly deserves a mention.

This magnificent beast of a scone can be found at the National Museum of Scotland. The museum has two cafes which serve these – the Brasserie at ground level or the Balcony. Do yourself a favour and go to the Balcony – all light and air and lovely Victorian ironwork railings.

Normal museum opening hours apply but don’t go too early as the scones are baked on the premises and once I had to have a plain one as – gasp – the sultana scones were still in the oven. (I had gone pretty much when the museum opened at 10am, presumably one of those emergency scone scenarios.)

Now, they are rather expensive however, these scones are fabulous – crumbly and light inside, just the right amount of crunch to the outsides, plenty of sultanas. They are also HUGE. More a meal than a scone, in fact.

This was a very good thing as I visited with the Youngest, who at two, is already a keen scone eater and she can be just as assertive as her mother if something gets between her and a scone.

Standing desk – *always* this tidy

Over the last year, standing desks have received a lot of attention.

The internet abounds with cheery headlines like “How sitting may be killing you!”; articles on the health benefits of standing and stories of literary greats like Dickens, Hemingway, Woolf owing their success to being stander-uppers.

Not dying and achieving literary greatness merely by standing is all very well but seems to be missing the most important point, which is that toddlers cannot get their little jam-covered fingers on a keyboard if it’s on standing desk.

So I am now the proud owner of a most delightful standing desk – courtesy of my parents who, unbelievably, had an old teacher’s desk which was apparently just hanging out, looking for a good home.

One of the most important things in balancing a creative life with family life is to grab whatever time you can get and use it. The standing desk is definitely helping with this – I get these tiny fragments of time during the day when the children are happily engaged in an educational activity (or pulling all the bedclothes off their beds or emptying every single jigsaw puzzle onto the floor), which occasionally give me 10 minutes of  peace and quiet and it’s very nice to have a safe space at which to work.

The only thing I have to do now is to train myself and Mr Enemy not to leave stuff on top of the damned thing.

What lies beneath?

That’s what I was asking my sister the other night. The day before she had given me a plastic tub and a couple of typewritten pages of paper.

‘It’s Herman,’ she said. ‘Herman the Friendship Cake.’

I was confused. More so when we got home and I peeped inside the tub. Not a cake at all. Just a gooey white-grey mixture.

The instructions helped. (Mildly annoying as I frequently feel rather smug when Mr Enemy can’t do something and it turns out that he hasn’t read the instructions).

It was quite simple:

• Stir Herman daily
• Feed him sugar, flour and milk every few days
• Leave him in a bowl on the counter with a tea towel over him
• Make sure he keeps bubbling

Only he didn’t bubble. He was supposed to bubble; he instructions said so.

The Little Enemies had become curiously found of Herman as soon as we got him. There was much talk about what Herman liked to eat and who would get to stir first.

The Middlest was particularly protective, because I had (foolishly) read out from the instructions ‘I will die if you put me in the fridge!’. The Middlest didn’t really understand my explanation about yeast and bacteria (to be honest, neither did I) and took it literally, announcing at random times and in ominous tones ‘Herman will die if we fridge him.’

The next morning, before the Little Enemies were up, I peeped underneath the tea towel. No bubbles. I pictured the Little Enemies clustering around me, and me saying in low tones:

‘Darlings, come here. Something very sad has happened. Mummy has killed Herman. She is a cake killer. And not just any old cake but,’ breaking off to sob, ‘a Friendship Cake.’

I called my sister.

‘It’s probably fine,’ she said. ‘Has he grown at all?’

He had. No bubbles but he definitely came further up the bowl. So much for all the drama; I didn’t get to dab my eyes with a floral hanky, let alone swoon into Mr Enemy’s strong arms.

After that, it was all plain sailing. We all took turns in stirring Herman, who started to bubble appreciatively, looked suitably strange and alien, grew spectacularly during the night, and gave off a lovely yeasty-brewery smell.

On Day 10, we gave away portions to friends and to the Middlest’s Nursery. Our friends were confused; the Nursery staff were relieved. They had only heard the Middlest’s version and had wondered what was going on at home.

The final portion we added to – more caster sugar, sultanas, apples, cinnamon, vanilla, baking powder, flour and baked. I have to say, Herman was absolutely delicious and neither I nor Mr Enemy nor any of the Little Enemies had any pangs about eating what had almost become a family member.

If you’re interested in trying out for yourself, you can find full instructions here at www.hermanthegermanfriendshipcake.com

© Tom Banwell

Absolutely delighted to have won first place in ‘Inspired? Get Writing!’ – jointly organised by the very lovely folks at the National Galleries of Scotland, the Scottish Poetry Library and the English-Speaking Union.

You can read my dark (im?)morality tale; published in The Scotsman on Wednesday. Those of a nervous disposition, don’t click here!

© Laolv | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

Last week, I wrote about the importance of unblending online activities… I must admit, this is challenging stuff!

After (miraculously!) taking my own advice and becoming more aware of my clicking habits, I’ve realised that the time of day matters a lot.

Basically, the later it gets, the more danger I am in of wasting time:

If I’ve got up at 5.30am to write, I write. But at 8.30pm at night, once all the little enemies are in bed, the household chores are done (well, done-ish), suddenly I’m indecisive.

Should I do the grocery order or finalise that blog post? Reply to that email or tweet that cool link?

Night-time is even worse – I go to check my email one last time (terrible habit) and end up having a sudden surfing burst and getting to bed too late and with that sore screen-burnt-eyes feeling.

So, how do you unblend your online activities?

Sadly this is all about focusing on the task at hand and not getting distracted. I hate that. This is what works for me best:

1. Use a timer – a favourite strategy of mine
2. Either on your computer or kitchen timer; that ticking in the background really does help you stay focused.
3. Use a to-do list
4. Is it just me who gets bizarrely overwhelmed from time-to-time with what should be a super-easy task? I live by my to-do list and recently I’ve realised that it works a lot better if I put down all the little babysteps instead of things which are actually whole projects.
5. Check for indecision
6. If I’m not sure what I should be working on, and flitting between tasks, it’s super-easy to do some random surfing.
7. Have a new media plan
8. I know, it sounds very serious but it needn’t be. Think about what it is you are trying to accomplish and what activities you need to do weekly or daily to do that. Mine is: post weekly, to respond to comments, to tweet every few days and to forget about Facebook for now. I’ll probably revise it soon but it keeps me vaguely on track, especially if I get sucked into surfing random strangers on Facebook (Or is it just me who is so nosey curious?!)

What do you do if you realise you getting sucked into time-wasting?

1. Make a new habit – to pause after 3 clicks
   Then look at the clock. Keep clicking if you want to but just let yourself see the time.
2. Switch it off the wifi or go somewhere you have no connection
   Get offline and work there for an hour or two and notice when you feel the urge to surf.
3. Give it a name
   Now that I’ve named the behaviour, I find it easily to recognise: ‘Oh, I’m doing Random Clicking at the moment, maybe I should be doing [insert Task At Hand]‘
4. Be aware of the Task At Hand
   I’m much more likely to indulge in some ‘research’ when I’m actually struggling with a task. If you are having some difficulties, try to pinpoint what it is you need to get on with it – it might be more information, you might not be quite clear on something, you might be revising what you thought you should do.

Now for the fun bit…

1. Reward yourself
   This sounds counter-intuitive but at the end of a task, allow yourself to check something. I love looking at knitting patterns – daft at the moment as I don’t have time to knit – so 5 or 10 minutes browsing Pattern Fish or Ravelry or catching up on Guardian books is always pleasant.
2. Build-in some random surf time
   Accept it – allow yourself a daily fix. Want half an hour to just browse around?  Do it, just do your other tasks first.

Quite hilariously, given the subject matter of the post, when I was working on this post last night, I got terribly distracted by some interesting articles. Here are a few of them – to save for an appropriate time, of course!

Annie Murphy Paul at New York Times on Why reading Fiction is good for you
Jon Ronson at Guardian Books on Introverts
Yudhijit Bhattacharjee at New York Times on the benefits of Bilingualism

© Ellmer | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

I am. I recently undertook a truly unpleasant exercise – keeping a note of what I actually did when writing the first draft of a post.

What started with a relevant question (is Evernote available for pc AND mac or just mac?) ended up as a hunt for a cool anniversary present for Mr. Enemy, taking in a couple of extra stops on household organisation and ipads on the way.

This took around 10 clicks and about 5 minutes, which isn’t a huge amount of time in itself. But just say – just for argument’s sake – I spend an hour doing this sort of thing (purely hypothetical, you understand folks) – what’s the result?

A feeling that I have worked but really have nothing to show for it.

I didn’t find a suitable present • I still can’t afford an ipad • I can’t  remember the household tips in enough detail to actually implement them.

In fact, worse than that, I often feel worse than I did before – sore eyes from staring at the screen and that horrible sick feeling you have just squandered a chunk of precious free time.

In short, this sort of unmanaged surfing gives the illusion of usefulness but actually, doesn’t give any real satisfaction.

The main problems seem to be:

• The internet is always there (assuming you have wifi)
• It is very easy to blend one’s activities
• Being human (there is nothing wrong with the internet itself, just as there’s nothing inherently evil about alcohol or really good quality milk chocolate)

It seems clear that the key here is to try, when possible, to unblend your activities. And that, dear readers, is the subject of my next post because there is lots to say on the matter.

I’m going to  leave you with  two questions and a suggestion.

Question 1 – what sucks up most of your time?
Question 2 – what is it costing you?
Suggestion – for the next few days, just try to be aware… of your clicks.

Yup, I’m getting all Buddhist over your ass! Check next week for some ideas on how to, y’know, do something about it!

Anyone coming to my workshop & talk at Aye Write & Write Now in Glasgow tomorrow? Feel free to leave me a message or any burning questions you’d like me to answer. Look forward to seeing you there!

Carrots + water = family harmony

‘See you at lunchtime!’ shouts Mr Enemy as he bundles the Little Enemies into the car so I can have some time write.

I wave them off, practically dancing in anticipation of the bliss of solitude.

• Fast forward 90 minutes •

I’m deep in the world of my novel. Is that the door? Surely not. It can’t be that time already!

I rush downstairs. Children coming through the backdoor. I look at them closely. My children! Mr Enemy follows, only just visible beneath a rucksack, various coats, a couple of bulging plastic shopping bags.

‘I’m so hungry’ announces the oldest.

‘When’s lunch?’ asks the middlest.

The youngest screeches and throws herself onto the lino.

‘I was just about to…’ I gesture to the kitchen table, which is still liberally littered with cereal bowls, bits of lego and a selection of t-shirts recently used to created ninja headdresses (don’t worry, I will post instructions for this sometime soon!)

Mr Enemy looks at me. Patient. Kind. But also hungry and, not surprisingly, a bit fed up.

I worked on a complicated mathematical formula for this:

(Hungry children) + (hungry spouse who is trying to help) – lunch = fewer such offers in future

Having been caught out like this more times than, strictly speaking, is desirable, I have come up with the following:

• As soon as the family goes, clear the table. Put stuff on the floor if necessary.
• Set out glasses and water – already the table looks more inviting and crucially, you immediately look less  lackadaisical
• Peel carrots, put them on a plate, stick on table (something for them to munch on immediately is very helpful)
• Do not do anything else in the kitchen – there is nothing like a messy house for procrastination.
• Set a timer to ring 5 minutes before the family is due back
• Go and do your creative work.
• When timer goes, sprint to the kitchen
• Put as many sandwich-making ingredients on the table as humanly possible
• Get out plates & cutlery
• Take a deep breath & smile

Even if spouse & children come home a bit early, there is something on the table to eat & drink immediately (ok, it’s only carrot sticks and water but hey, it’s a start) AND it looks as if you have been slightly industrious. Result!

I’m just putting the final touches to the workshop and I am *very* excited about welcoming more writers into the wonderful world of websites and blogging.

So, if you’ve ever wanted your own writer’s website-with-a-blog but…

• you’ve been put off by the cost of setting it up
• you’ve been put off by the cost of making updates after setting it up
• you’ve worried that it’s just too technical and complicated
• you’ve wondered if you’ve actually got anything to, you know, write about

Please come – this one is definitely for you!

You might be wondering… What’s so cool about this workshop?

• You’ll leave with all the skills you need to add and remove pages, text and pictures
• It’s a gentle introduction – if you can use Word, you can use WordPress.com
• The only thing to pay for is the conference itself and there’s LOADS to choose from

Will I have to know lots of technical stuff?

Absolutely not. This workshop is for people who use computers – just normal stuff like emailing, surfing the web, using Word – but who have no specialist internet knowledge.

Will you speak to me in complicated IT Person language?

Really, I won’t. I can be a bit geeky at times but I’m also writer with an MA in English Lit. When I first got started with computers, I was quite honestly thought I might blow the computer up by pressing the wrong key combination. So, if you’re a technophobe, don’t worry, I know how that feels!

Any questions – please just drop me a line and I’ll get back to you.
Ready to book? – WriteNow booking page.

If you’re not ready to actually create a website-with-a-blog, but would still like to dip you’re toe in the water, I’m talking about Is blogging for you? At Aye Write!.

PS Wondering what a wordpress website actually looks like? Well, you’re looking at one right now…