Sunday 24 September 2017

Breastfeeding portrait a winner

I love, love, love this year’s National Portrait Gallery winner - Breech by Grimsby born Benjamin Sullivan, illustrating the artist’s wife Virginia breastfeeding their eight-month-old daughter Edith. Benjamin wanted to celebrate the love that had come into their lives and reflect on the worrying time the couple faced during Edith’s birth. Only 3-5% of mum’s experience a Breech birth so I can only imagine the anguish the couple went through at a time that is scary enough all by itself.

The broadcaster Kirsty Wark, who was on the judging panel, said: “The woman is tired. She is in love. Her life has changed for ever. We know her.” Indeed we do.

I love the way the mother is perched on the stool, naked apart from an old favourite dressing gown which has just been hurriedly hitched open to allow a demanding baby access to that source of nourishment and comfort all tiny tots crave. It is a fantastic snapshot of bittersweet reality that every human being on this planet needs to see - the extreme fatigue and yet the monumental love of a mother. And that amazing moment when a harried, overworked, slightly stricken (we’ve all felt those – ‘can we really do this?’ moments of extreme doubt) mother feels the baby’s mouth latch on and all those worries fade away into the most incredible explosion of bliss for both parties.

There is a huge problem in the UK - it has the lowest breastfeeding rate in the world. At three months, only 17% of mothers are breastfeeding their babies exclusively and only 1 in 200 women are breastfeeding after they reach their first birthday. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommend just breast milk for six months, with breastfeeding to form part of a baby’s diet up to two years of age.

However, thankfully, things are beginning to change – there have been lots of protests, fuelled by the sensational media, against the idiots that think breastfeeding is ‘unnatural’ (Although I personally think we should just ignore these idiots completely) And we have seen lots of photographs in the media of very pretty celebrities, with full make-up and immaculate figure and clothes, breastfeeding in public. I applaud them all - but as we all know, breastfeeding certainly isn’t glam.

The thing with breastfeeding – and the wonderful painting Breech demonstrates this – is that you are a slave to your baby for the first year. The picture captures that moment so incredibly well – when you are in the middle of something else, tired and grouchy, and your baby needs you. You are in demand constantly. Tiny babies need to feed every two hours or so – and unfortunately this just does not fit in with most modern women’s routine – this Guardian article explains the crux of the problem in more detail.

I would love to see a breastfeeding revolution in my lifetime. And this year’s National Portrait Award winner takes one tiny step towards making that happen.

Tuesday 12 September 2017

Watching legend Mo Farah in action at the Letzigrund

Phew, it’s been a bit hectic here lately. I’m doing a lot of catching up with my blog – and I have lots of news. Poppy had an amazing time at the Diamond League athletics championship at the Letzigrund Stadium at the end of last month. It was fab timing as it was the first Thursday in the first week back at school when everyone is usually down in the doldrums.

So on Thursday 24th August after a whole day of school Poppy headed out with just 9 other pupils and her teacher to the Letzigrund. She was so lucky to be involved. Only 8 schools in the entire Canton of Zurich were invited to take part. And just 10 pupils from those 8 schools! (The selection process was carried out on Sports Day – it was the fastest 10 from the middle school) Poppy was so excited.

The class also took part in a relay race infront of the entire audience of 20,000. Then they got to watch the event in VIP seats near the front just by the start of the race line. And to cap it all, Poppy got to see Mo Farah win his final ever track race – and when she gave him the thumbs-up, he did the Mo-Bot in return. What a complete and utter legend.

There were fireworks, drama and free burgers. She didn’t get home until 11.30pm but didn’t have to go into school the next day until after pausa (10.20am) What a fantastic experience.

Mo Farah wins his last ever 5000m track race

Friday 1 September 2017

I feel a little political fervour coming on

I cannot ignore the bad way the UK and its politics are in and have felt compelled to use my writing skills to try and work my way through the pain I feel about the people I love and their suffering. There has been a great deal of tragedy taking place in the UK recently, with three terror attacks on Manchester and London, on top of an extreme and uneccessary period of austerity which the Tory government has inflicted on its people for far too long.

There has been a glint of hope in the form of Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn which I have been campaigning vigorously for on Twitter. He achieved great things at the last General Election, unfortunately not enough to form a majority government but it feels like change is in the air and he is at the crux of it. Just before the election I wrote a poem and here it is:

Please vote for my future

I'm 10, I'm at school, I'm nobody's fool.
(Or so granny says)
I spend my days learning, my head crammed with stats,
With many a test thrown in (I've done my 7 plus SATs)

I'm not sure what's going on in the world today,
There's a president Trump and our Prime Minister's May.

I don't know about politics but it all seems a mess.
I see a world full of war and oodles of stress,
Treeless forests, our seas full of plastic,
Depression, homelessness, talk full of bombastic.
Traffic spews pollution onto the streets,
The trains are late, the future looks bleak.

Our school dinners are being taken away,
Dad's not got a proper job (or so mum says)
She's off to the food bank tonight, which I find quite perplexing,
I thought banks gave us cash, not a bag with Tex-Mex in.

My brother's got no job, he spends his days lazing around.
He has a first in maths but his £40,000 debt makes him frown.
He's depressed like aunt Lil though she had a job.
Forty years in the police but now she's a snob.

I hear there's a chance that all this could come good.
A man called Jeremy wants to be PM and I think that he should.
Blue is the colour of sadness, gloom, dejection.
Red equals joy, love, smiles and action.
We need change and we need it soon.
Please vote for my future on the 8th June.