Recently by Laura Yates

If you're wondering what 'it' is, I'm following on from yesterday's blog - I went to Kings Heath Fair! It was BRILLIANT!! Really hope it's on again next year, I'll make sure I don't oversleep and get there before lunch time.

I took The Kid on his first fairground ride, a small 'choo choo' train; he's really getting into trains and actually sitting on one and ringing the bell has increased his love of them ten-fold. Although I nearly didn't take him on as at one point the owner of the ride was going to charge me £1.50 to hold The Kid on my lap.. but he relented when I gave him my indignant stare from hell.

We then went and shared a pork, stuffing and apple sauce sarnie (me and The Kid, not me and the train ride man), which was lovely apart from my eardrums being assaulted by the sounds emminating from the 'mash up fm' tent. Another sign that I'm getting old - how can you call it music when it has no tune?

Before we left we went for a quick wander round the pond where The Kid decided to do his little 'I'm going to lean on my reigns and dangle like a cot mobile and there's nothing you can do about it' trick. I had one hand trying to hold the pushchair and the other trying to hoick him off the floor by the reigns, much to the amusement of passers by.

Anyway, a good time was had by all, and I'll definitely be there next time.

McCain Track and Field Road Show

A little bird tells me that there's a great way of getting your kids more interested in athletics. Tomorrow, Saturday the 4th July, McCain and UK Athletics are holding an event in Victoria Square between 11am and 4pm.

My Brummie Mum friend Chopper took her beautiful, perfectly proportioned curly haired two year old boy to the Health Visitors last week and was told that he was overweight.

He's not overweight.

I'm not just being a loyal friend here either, I'm quite happy to say when toddlers are pudgy, but he's not. He's fine.

She then had to go through what he eats, and was given some (not at all patronising) pointers, like that she should be giving her tot one Weetabick, not one and a half in the morning.

It doesn't matter whether you're pregnant of a mother of ten, everyone loves a good labour story, which is why next week is Labour Week on From Here to Maternity.

We want to hear your labour stories, the good, the bad, the ugly and the down right hilarious! I'm going to be sharing tales such as the worst and best birth experiences in the world, my friend Rachel's story who gave birth while she was asleep and what happens when you turn a TENS up full blast by mistake!

If you want to share your story email me at fromheretomaternity@live.co.uk the best (and worst) will be posted up here on the blog.

Nannies, Nurseries or Childminders; if you choose, or have no choice but to leave your baby and return to work, how do you decide what childcare will suit you and baby best?

Where do you go if you want good childcare? And more to the point, what is good childcare? What's important to you; happiness or a solid routine? Educational play, or just play?

It's no small wonder that every parent in the land isn't a nervous wreck, driven to distraction by paranoia and worry about the safety of their kids.

All those parents who have to leave their child in the care of others while they go to work will be feeling especially anxious now. Whenever the subject of Little Teds nursery in Plymouth is mentioned amongst my mom friends, there is silence for a moment, and the empty look of shock. We all feel sick to our stomachs that people are capable of such crimes, and that someone has had the opportunity to commit them.

"Go for a bike ride." He said. "It's a nice evening for it." He said. "You'll have a lovely time." He said.

The Other Half was so convincing that I did decide to take the bike out for an hour the other night.

And to be fair, cycling down a charmingly gnarled country lane, listening to birds call across long fields of grass and corn was nice.

While it lasted.

I'd travelled two or three miles when it became apparent that the front tyre was totally flat. Being miles from home with a puncture was not great news, not least because in a moment of wisdom inspired by Plato himself, I'd opted against taking my mobile with me.

I don't know about you, but when we were little my brother and I always shared the bath. Either that or I'd have to have what remained of the bathwater after he'd finished turning it into a lukewarm soup of grot, toys, a few meagre bubbles and probably a good bit of wee.

Bath-time was always fun when it was shared. Whether he was trying to drown me, or I was attempting to push him into the hot tap a good time was had by all - until we would stop our merriment at the sound of our mom thundering up the stairs and screaming that us two little bleeders had just caused water to come piddling out of the ceiling, and why for God's sake couldn't we just play nicely?

The fact that Hollie Steele was allowed to perform in Britain's Got Talent is a disgrace. If ever there was an argument for imposing an age limit on TV talent shows, she is the big red line drawn underneath it.

Children are popped on stage to perform like monkeys for the gratification of a baying audience. It is wrong and should not be allowed, not even if they really, really really, really want to, with sugar on top.

Kids this young can't legally smoke or drink, yet apparently it is fine to hurl themselves into the limelight and potentially change their whole lives. These children are not mentally equipped to cope with being put in the spotlight, which was clearly demonstrated during Hollie's performance on Friday. Watching that poor child bursting into tears was such a heart-wrenching vision of isolation and desperation. There is no way I'd allow any of my kids to be put in that position.

How is it that Britain's Got Talent is allowed to work with these children, yet every other person in the country has to jump through huge hoops before working with kids so as to maintain their safety?

And so on Orange Wednesday I took The Boy and his mate The Girl (not girl friend!) for a cheap night out at the pictures (yes Brabbin, pictures) to see Night at the Museum Two.

We got to the cinema and stood at the back of three huge queues full of jostling people. I thought the kids might get restless but The Boy found 5p on the floor which he and The Girl decided to invest in pic n' mix. I was well aware that they'd only get a paltry half a Malteser with their new found treasure, but at least they'd be kept busy while I waited to get the tickets.

Although we actually arrived at 7.10 for a 7.15 start, by the time I'd got through the queue it was 7.35. This wouldn't have bothered me as at worst there might be a danger we'd miss all those lovely adverts, but the film was actually sold out. The next showing wasn't till 8.05.

"Are there any other kids' films on any sooner than that?"I asked. I explained that I didn't fancy another half hour wait, plus the trailers plus the film.

"Erm, yeah." The lad behind the desk replied. "We've got Wolverine on at 8.30"

I stared at him for a moment or so, and realised quickly that there would be no point in pursuing this idea any further. I bought the 8.05 tickets and went off to find the kids, wondering how on earth I was going to occupy them till we could go into the theatre.