Three Shoes, One Sock & No Hairbrush - Rebecca Abrams

This discussion of having a second child has a reputation for negativity, which is to some extent deserved - it emphasizes "the feelings of frustration and failure that so many women go through when they become mothers-of-two", and I agree that it could be frightening for someone expecting their second. However, reading it nearly seven months into the experience, I found it powerfully reassuring, as my difficulties were convincingly described as normal, understandable, and (most importantly to me) temporary.

Many aspects of second-time motherhood that are covered here matched my experiences exactly. The postnatal health of second time mothers is described as much better immediately after an easier labour, but "in the longer-term, real physical recovery is usually slower". A sudden outbreak of demanding behaviour & even "systematic trickiness" is considered normal in unsettled firstborn children, and the tendency for mothers to react with irritation is described honestly and sympathetically ("the chasm between the delicate, fragile newborn infant and the robust, determined toddler was vast and unbridgeable, and into its depths plunged most of my parenting standards and ideals"). Jacky Fleming's cartoons are great, too - I particularly liked one of a woman cooing over her haloed baby while a horned toddler scowls behind her, and another where a woman with two children, asked how she is, replies with a confused expression, "Me?! Absolutely no idea, sorry." I felt strangely comforted by the fact that this book didn't shy away from discussing the extremes - along with confronting the strongly ambivalent feelings that motherhood routinely gives rise to, and quoting a mother of two who claims that "every couple I know is in crisis", Doris Lessing's desertion and Sylvia Plath's suicide are mentioned without condemnation. A Joseph Rowntree Foundation survey is quoted as concluding that "a woman's life satisfaction drops to an all-time low in the year after the birth of her second child". On a lighter note, there are some good one-liners, such as Vicki Iovine's painfully true observation that "a woman gets 'Precious Vessel' status once with each partner". Books by Adrienne Rich, Kate Figes, and Helen Simpson are also quoted fairly heavily, and would probably be worth reading more of.

A major theme of this book, which I hadn't previously considered, is that our cultural ideal of love, including parental love, is based on "a romantic model of two people locked in intense relation to one another", which is obviously largely unattainable when dealing with two children at once. I agreed with the observation that "most of the information and guidance we receive about mothering assumes that a woman will be relating to one child at a time", and felt relieved that I wasn't the only one when I read that "before our second child is born, instead of imagining ourselves loving another child, we imagine ourselves loving our first child all over again".

Another insight which was new to me, but obvious once acknowledged, is that "a first child is a shared focus, a joint project", whereas when adopting a divide-and-conquer approach to handle the practical realities of two, "children can become a wedge, pushing each parent in different directions, not only physically, but emotionally".

For me, the main value of this book was in creating a feeling of normality around some of the more challenging emotional upheavals of second-time motherhood. I didn't take away much practical advice, although I did appreciate the section on steps to take to restore closeness with the first-born, such as looking through their baby photos and remembering special times together, and trying to respond to challenging behaviours with affection and tolerance. The reminders on "looking after number one" through exercise, sleep, fun ("if you can't stand being you, try pretending to be someone else for a while"), relaxation & indulgence were also useful. Mainly, though, I enjoyed the reminders that "the first two years are undoubtedly the hardest", and "this phase - like every other phase - won't last forever". The only worrying point is the statement, taken from Robert Stewart, that "satisfaction in second-time mothers nose-dived at around eight months" - just over a month or so in the future at the point of reading...

The Book of Night Women - Marlon James

A powerful & excellently written story about a slave girl in late 18th-century Jamaica.  Her voice draws you in and makes you care about what happens to her in the compelling and dramatic narrative, but despite the promise of one reviewer that the book "whispers rather than shouts its horrors" I am ashamed to say that I found the constant random brutality too much and would describe this book as interesting rather than enjoyable.

The Hare with Amber Eyes - Edmund de Waal

I bought this thinking it was fiction, but after a slow start it turned out to be something far more intriguing. Ostensibly a history of the author's family's ownership of a collection of netsuke (miniature Japanese sculptures), it covers a wide range of cultural and social history through the eyes of this wealthy cosmopolitan family of Jewish bankers, within the context of the author's thoughtful reflections on his own research and writing, and the impact that the project has on him. Early sections on art collecting in 19th century Paris were of limited interest to me, but the description of life for a prominent Jewish family in Nazi Vienna was compelling. I was impressed by de Waal's avoidance of sentimentality - after telling the quite amazing story of the netsuke's survival, hidden in a mattress by a loyal family servant, he describes this as an 'affront' in the light of the many people connected with the family who were not so lucky. One phrase stuck in my mind particularly clearly: writing of his grandmother's decision to burn her old correspondence and not speak of those times, he says, "Losing things can sometimes give you a space in which to live."

Simplicity Parenting - Kim John Payne

This is a book about "using the extraordinary power of less to raise calmer, happier, and more secure kids". Another ghostwritten one, this presents the ideas of a counsellor, inspired by the principles of Waldorf education, who asserts that by moving away from the current emphasis on "too much stuff, too many choices, too much information, and too fast", we can reduce our children's stress levels, providing increased calm and security, and align our family lives more closely with our original vision for them. He presents an action plan based around four levels of simplification: of the environment, rhythm, schedules, and filtering out the adult world.

As a tangible, 'doable', place to start, the environment is the first point addressed. The main recommendation is to remove the vast majority of the toys that have accumulated (halving, then halving again, and possibly even once more, although the later stages will be stored to build a 'toy library' for periodic swapping out), focusing on rejecting fixed, complex, technological toys and retaining open-ended ones that support creative, imaginative, purposeful play. (For more on this see the work of Simon Nicholson on 'loose parts'.) I have trouble accepting the application of the same principle to books, but I do wholeheartedly agree that my life would be simpler and more harmonious if my daughter's wardrobe contained only clothes that fit her and suited the current weather! The corrosive effects of advertising are also discussed, with credit given to Mary Pipher's book The Shelter of Each Other, making the point that marketing teaches us to be unhappy with what we have, creating "both a sense of entitlement, and a false reliance on purchases rather than people to satisfy and sustain us emotionally".

The next section focuses on using 'rhythm', i.e. consistency, predictability, and shared rituals, to build calm, security, and a sense of connection into family life. I'm not sure I'd go as far as adopting the idea of 'core meals' tied to each night of the week, but I did like some of his suggestions: a time each night to preview the next day; family meals where all are involved in the preparation and cleanup; a moment of silence before eating and an opportunity to share 'favourite things' about the day or each other; building in 'pressure valves' each day of calm, connected moments or absorbing activities; candlelight; predictable bedtimes etc. I particularly liked the idea of easing transitions by assigning a chore before leaving the house to break the flow of play before trying to get out of the door.

The discussion on schedules uses a farming analogy based on crop rotation to emphasize the importance of 'fallow periods' (leisure and rest; 'downtime') and replenishing 'cover crops' (creativity or deep play, opportunities to fully lose yourself in an activity) as well as the main 'crop' of the daily activities of school, classes, sports, chores and socialising, which can easily be 'overscheduled' in contemporary life. This includes a useful reminder to think ahead and plan to balance active and calm times (including 'Sabbath moments' of distraction-free quiet family time), and I was particularly interested in the idea of boredom as a 'gift', which can be "appreciated for how often it precedes inspiration". He even asserts that overscheduling can "create a reliance on outer stimulation, a culture of compulsion and instant gratification", sowing the seeds of addiction...

The final section, on filtering out the pressures and concerns of the adult world, has a twin focus - on adult media and information, and on parental overinvolvement. Earlier in the book, he quotes US journalist Ellen Goodman: "The central struggle of parenthood is to let our hopes for our children outweigh our fears", and here he focuses on trust, and repeats that "parents need to relax in order to convey ease to their children": "we need to live with confidence, to parent with a sense of strength and openness, and perhaps most of all, a sense of humour". Obviously one of the main focuses of this section is on 'screens', in particular TV - I can see the logic of removing the TV completely, but I am more comfortable with his lesser option of reducing its influence by setting limits on the quantity and content of its use, and taking occasional longer 'breaks' from it. I also liked the reminder that adults too can benefit from cutting down on our exposure to sensationalist and alarmist media. In discussing 'helicopter parenting' and 'hyperparenting' he suggests that such overinvolvement can be countered by an effort to 'talk less', removing references to adult topics or concerns, cutting down on running commentaries, and trying only to say what is 'true, kind, and necessary'. "In a noisy world, quiet attentiveness speaks louder than words, and it gives a child more space for their own thoughts and feelings to develop." I was surprised and intrigued by his advice on avoiding too much analysis of feelings with younger children - "when we push a young child toward an awareness they don't yet have, we transpose our own emotions, and our own voice, on theirs".

Overall I found this to be a positive and encouraging book, putting into words some of the vague feelings I'd been having recently about wanting to provide a calmer, clearer space for our family with more room for creativity and self-expression, and suggesting practical steps to make that happen. I liked the final idea to help parents appreciate the ordinary, everyday, miraculous present lives of their children: "before falling into sleep, remember the ordinary moments of the day, the moments with your children that meant something to you".

Your Self-Confident Baby - Magda Gerber

I came to this through being given a recommendation for an article on Janet Lansbury's blog, and after exploring the site further and becoming quite captivated by this video in which a baby demonstrates amazing persistence and concentration in reaching for a toy without adult assistance, I decided to find out more about the "RIE" philosophy that was being illustrated.

The book is a (ghost-written) summary of the teachings of Magda Gerber, who brought the ideas of the Hungarian paediatrician Emmi Pikler to the US & founded "Resources for Infant Educarers" to demonstrate and spread these ideas. She advocates an approach to childcare based on respect, listing her basic principles as:

• Basic trust in the child to be an initiator, an explorer, and a self-learner
• An environment for the child that is physically safe, cognitively challenging, and emotionally nurturing
• Time for uninterrupted play
• Freedom to explore and interact with other infants
• Involvement of the child in all care-giving activities to allow that child to become an active participant rather than a passive recipient
• Sensitive observation of the child in order to understand her needs
• Consistency and clearly defined limits and expectations to develop discipline

Much of what is described here makes a lot of sense - I can see how the more "hands-off" approach to children playing (described here as "absence of interference") could support the growth of independence and confidence, and I have already been seeing positive results with my own toddler from trying to "help" her less when she is playing (e.g. when she asked me to make a person out of playdough as she didn't think she could, I handed it back to her and she did eventually make one herself and seemed pleased with the results). I'm sure I could also benefit from reducing the number of over-engineered plastic toys in my home and replacing them with a few simpler, open-ended objects. I also agree with the emphasis on calm observation and honest communication rather than overstimulation and distraction - a comment on "invasive" tickling bringing on "hysterical" laughter struck a particular chord with me as I've never felt entirely comfortable with this as a distraction technique.

Some of the ideas presented here don't sit quite so comfortably with me, however. For example, Gerber is not keen on supporting infants in positions they couldn't get into themselves. I'm not sure how much of this was learned in response to my actions, but my daughter was insistent on being held in an upright, outward-facing position as a baby, and I wouldn't have wanted to deny her this. Gerber also rejects anything that restrains infants; I enjoyed using a sling with my daughter and hope to again with my son, and I would have trouble giving up the idea of that closeness. Similarly, she advocates feeding on your lap and moving onto using a small chair and table rather than a highchair for meals - I can see the logic of this based on her philosophy, but I can't imagine giving up the convenience of a highchair or the social time of sitting at an adult table together. Most significantly, although I can see theoretical benefits in terms of building independence and the ability to self-soothe, I can't entirely accept her recommendations on allowing infants to cry, particularly in terms of following the "Ferber method" at bedtime.

I did find her views on not stepping in too early to try to resolve disputes between toddlers very interesting, though - she says, "I believe in letting children struggle over a toy as long as neither one gets hurt or hasn't reached a point where he is past his limit of coping with the situation." I can see how this might lead to more genuine learning about social interaction, problem solving, and co-operation, but it also seems like a tricky strategy to implement, particularly in the context of adult social expectations that parents are responsible for their children's actions and should enforce "fair play"! I'm quite ambivalent about her views on "teaching" toddlers - she feels strongly that "learning academic skills should be saved for school-age children" and although I can see her point that pushing a reluctant child could quash their innate love of learning, and I do feel uncomfortable with pressure such as repeatedly correcting toddlers' speech, I think that there is room for a middle ground where a child's own enthusiasm could help them to acquire skills that may smooth their future path in life...

Overall, this book has given me plenty of food for thought and I think that it will have an influence on the way I parent in future. I don't feel able to adopt her philosophy wholesale, as I still expect to do more carrying and comforting than she would endorse, but I will certainly be on the lookout for ways to back off a little during "play" times and during social interactions.

The Birth of Love - Joanna Kavenna

An absorbing and thought-provoking book dealing with the subject of birth and nonconformity from several different angles: a nineteenth-century physician whose campaign against puerperal fever set him so at odds with the medical mainstream that he ended up in a lunatic asylum; a novelist struggling with the social demands of promoting his book; a mother going through the terrifying beauty of the birth - the gory sundering"; and a prisoner being punished for her belief in family relationships and motherhood in a dystopian future where "it is necessary for the survival of the species that we regulate procreation". My timing was a little off on this one - while pregnant for the second time it was unnerving to read about women dying due to doctors failing to wash their hands after autopsies, and then a detailed account of a second birth that is worse than the first... Despite this, there are moments of warmth and positivity in the book, and the concluding paragraphs, describing the initial reactions of the new parents on meeting their baby daughter, are powerfully uplifting.

The Slap - Christos Tsiolkas

Although complex and engrossing, this initially struck me as a disappointing missed opportunity of a book. The main premise is timely and interesting, but the characters through which it is explored came across as unsympathetic stereotypical extremes, almost caricatures. I also found the writing style alienating - the male characters all seemed to see the world through a filter of sexual desire and barely-controlled violence, and casual racism & infidelity seemed to be the norm. I almost abandoned it part-way through, but it did improve after the first few chapters. Gradually-revealed back-stories added depth and complexity to some of the characters when it was their turn to speak (e.g. the smothering mother who blanked out all negative thoughts in her attempt to cancel out her own past and her initial inability to bond with the baby), and the later sections told from the point of view of the two teenagers were a little more appealing and hopeful. The author also displayed real skill and insight in the portrayal of the ambivalence of close relationships through the moment-by-moment reversals and fleeting contradictory beliefs in the interior monologues.