Help to Buy? I need the Help To Stop Buying Scheme

I was shocked and depressed in equal measures when I heard today that the average deposit in the UK for a first time buyer is £32,000.  As one of the very few people that I know, who – shock horror- is still renting, this is an alarming fact.  I admire those people who have slogged their butts off to slowly scrape together a mountain of dosh to be able to get on to the first rung of the golden property ladder. I envy those people who have parents that love their children so much that they give up their own dreams for retirement because they want to help them achieve financial security (or decide that they just can’t tolerate the idea of living with their children for the rest of their lives and give them the deposit.) And a gentle kick out of the door.  

My husband and I don't have a generous benefactor, but to be honest we don't really need one.  Our salaries, although modest by some standards, are ample enough to save a half decent deposit.  Not £32,00 I might add but in Scotland that’s not entirely necessary. Like most first time buyers, we are eligible for some of the admittedly very good schemes that the government has introduced to help people achieve their ownership dreams.

The problem is that before our little sproglet, Logan came along, we spent our 20’s lavishing our hard earned cash on luxurious holidays, expensive jewellery, expensive glossy furniture (to make our rented place our own) and enough shoes to make Imelda Marcos jealous. We had the philosophy that we were young and needed to enjoy life before settling down.  And now it’s really hard to stop spending.  In addition, we are paying a fortune in rent. 

‘We really will save a deposit now that Logan is here”. That’s what we say every day but like most renters out there, we are in a Catch-22 situation.  We love the home we live in.  It’s new, it's the right size for us and it’s in the right location.  It’s also about £350 more a month than we would pay with a mortgage. In fact, we could double the size of our house if we were able to get a mortgage with the same monthly outgoing.  We are also only secure for a year at a time as there is no guarantee that the current owner won’t sell at some point.  There are positives, of course.  Boiler goes – phone the man.  Roof collapses – phone the man.  Want to move to a new area ? Phone the man; say we’re out of here..  There are a lot of good things to be said about renting but ultimately this never be ours.

So while we desperately try to heave our way on to this ladder, which for us will really only ever be a step, we will have to accept that Susan’s Sunday Surprise can be just as tasty as a Domino’s, even though we know that the only surprising element is that it was edible at all.  Tesco Clubcard points will be boosted to the max and whatever restaurant offers the best deal will be the rendezvous point for date night.  We will buy only anything that is absolutely essential to the point that the Extreme Couponing ladies off the telly will be calling us for advice.  We will scrimp and scrape because we understand that, fundamentally, it’s better to have something to show for your hard work, somewhere to live when the pitiful state pension could not support renting a hut, something to leave those closest to you.

When I look online, I don't need adverts telling me I can get Help to Buy.  I know how to do this and very well. I need the Help to Stop Buying Anything That Isn’t Made Of Bricks and Mortar Scheme. Alternatively, Logan can inherit my shoes when I go.  There are enough of them to build a house anyway.

I tend to get quite fixated on things that have pleased me and have noticed that in the 6 months of being a mum, the smallest of things can really do that. Anything that will give me 5 minutes of less whinge is a sure winner.  For example this week I cant stop talking about a cup.  Yes that right, a regular cup used for the purposes of drinking.  I picked this particular one up on sale in Asda on the off chance that it might be a cup that Logan could actually use.  Up until this point, he has been offered extra water in sippy cups that the health visitor brought but he just could not use them.  He could hold the handles but could not then manoeuvre the spout to his mouth, resulting in mighty tantrum.  Shall we help you son?  No way. I am five months old, how dare you insult my intelligence by aiding my sip of water. i'll just pet my lips and cry some more.

Until this little Munchkin device came along.  It is a little genius cup that fooled me but not Logan.  it is no spill and water comes out only when baby bites/chews gently on the silicone lid.  Logan has it figured out immediately; Mummy on the other hand needed a product demo from Daddy.  It really is a good cup and the logic behind it seems reasonable. According to the label, it is better for teeth as no extreme sucking and it is much more like a normal cup so makes the transition easier.  Definitely a winner in our house.

Gives me one less thing to think about as at the moment the focus in our house is all on food and weaning.  Baby Led Weaning (BLW) versus - ehm parent led weaning? I'm on the side of the old school parenting here - 'Baby led weaning? in my day we just gave them food'.  I'm a fan of this method since the banana and bread I gave to Logan to encourage BLW are currently mushed to a pulp on the carpet.  More on our weaning adventures to follow...

Trip to the hospital anyone?

We were at the hospital twice this week for a total of 4 hours.  2 hours on New Years Eve and 2 on 2nd January. Of course, I would not take my baby to a room full of disease ridden people if it were not extremely urgent.  The NHS 24 people told us that we should go so I could blame them but the truth is they were basing their recommendation on information provided by me. On the Friday night, it was clear that Logan had a cold and is also very likely teething so he was more restless than normal. He did not settle all night which is very unusual for him and spent a large amount of time straining to do a poo. We had him in a bath at 3am, gave him cooled boiled water, frequently tried to distract him in order to get a cotton bud in his nose to remove contents, hushed him, rocked him, begged him but he did not sleep.  Until Adam took him for a walk at 12pm the next day.  He slept and we were so relieved that we left him in his pram, in a snowsuit for two hours while we had a much needed cuppa.  Then he woke up crying.  We worried; this is so unlike him..let's take his temp. Of course, it wouldn't be abnormally elevated after sleeping in a snowsuit. 37.5 degrees - officially a fever for a baby..call 111 now.  Get sent to out of hours. It's a cold, he doesn't have a fever unless the call you gave just in case worked, he might be a little constipated, don't give dairy fro a few weeks.

We left, grateful that he just had a cold and hopeful for more sleep that evening. We got some, but mainly because we stayed up till 1am celebrating the new year's arrival.  The next day we were further pleased that aforementioned constipation had gone.  Replaced by the opposite.  Just what you need with a hangover.  But wait...is that blood in his nappy? It looks like a lot? He's had a bad cold, now he has blood in his nappy...phone 111.  "Can you bring the offending nappy to out of hours?" the clinician on the phone asks.  I think they are on to my hypochondria.  "Okay", and off we go to the hospital.  Turns out it wasn't blood.  it was carrot. He'd had carrot earlier that day. The GP humoured me and said she would do the same; I suspect she lied to make me feel better.  And now every day, Adam asks me what time we are due at the hospital.

It takes a village...

The name for this blog may yet change, as I decided to write and choose a better name later if necessary, but the name was inspired by a conversation that took place that I can guarantee every mother has had with someone else.  I said something I can never take back; I said something that means my child will be deprived forever; I said the fatal sentence "He's not getting rusks, they have too much sugar in them".  Well, I could have equally said "I don't agree with any of the parenting choices you made in your life, thanks anyway for your advice dear mother in law" for it was met with the same reaction.  I would like to state for the record that I was not in any way criticising anyone who gives their child rusks, nor was I criticising my mother in law who gave all four children this without any drastic consequences. I was just saying that having weighed up all of the information available to me - a lot more than was available 30 years ago - i think there are  better things he could eat. I am more than happy for him to eat them as a treat, i'm just not giving him them.  But as they say, it takes a village to raise a child...and I have learned quickly since becoming a mum, there is always a whole village worth of people to give their opinion. There's another well known phrase that I think goes well here....take everything with a pinch of salt....unless it's your baby's food, that's a definite no no.

Just start writing (before he suggests another ridiculous idea)

For ages I have toyed with the idea of starting a parenting blog, not laden with advice but more a general musing on my experiences as a new mum to, now 6 month old, Logan.  I have of course been inspired by many of the brilliantly funny bloggers out there who thankfully are always there to remind you that it's never easy, it's often treacherous and that no matter what, you are doing just fine.  Lots of these people are funny. I am not. I also get embarrassed when people read my writing or by trying to promote my work. Definitely not ideal qualities for a blogger. And yet, tonight I decided to stop thinking about it and just write. I hope there will be times that you find me inadvertently funny but most of all, I will enjoy writing and sharing my experiences of raising a child who currently is unsure of whether he is a human or a zombie (does everyone have a child who likes to chew faces or is it just me?) I decided to just start writing because after mentioned to my husband, Adam, that I really wanted to write a blog he did that typical man thing giving me suggestions on what to blog about ranging from: exercise? to moaning?  So I picked up the laptop and got stuck in.  He's now a distant voice in the background....