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BBC News
24-07-2025
- Health
- BBC News
London baby banks issue plea for nappies amid shortage
Stocks of baby wipes and nappies for newborn babies have run out across a network of baby banks in London, a charity has warned. Little Village said that the essential items had run out across its hubs in Camden, Tooting and Brent and its Wandsworth warehouse. The charity, which supported 7,325 babies and children up to the age of five last year, reported that demand for its services was Compston, from Little Village, said: "Tomorrow a parent may have to choose between buying food or keeping their baby clean and dry – no family should face that kind of impossible decision. Nappies are not a luxury; they are a necessity." It is appealing for donations of newborn nappies, size one nappies and baby wipes at its charity said that it had provided 64% more packs of nappies in the first half of 2025 than in the same time period in 2024. Renata Acioli, a baby bank manager at Little Village, said: "I meet families who are doing everything they can but still don't have enough in their pockets to cover the most essential items for their baby."It breaks my heart hearing stories of mums and dads having to resort to nappy and formula rationing."On average, a newborn uses about 10 nappies a day, meaning families typically go through about three packs a week.
The Guardian
29-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Adrian Chiles's first time at Glastonbury: ‘The peace-and-love control knobs get turned up to 11'
I thought I would never go to Glastonbury, and that was fine with me. Six years ago, I wrote about how it was my idea of hell, my event 101. Ever since then, for reasons known only to themselves, my Guardian handlers have been badgering me to come. They wore me down. They got me to Glastonbury. What was my problem? Well, while I knew I would love a lot of the music, there are some creature comforts I won't be without. Nothing fancy – my personal hygiene bar is rather low; going without a shower for a few days holds no fear for me. All I insist upon is a clean bog and a bed on which to sleep, neither of which are easy to find at Worthy Farm. The odd thing with Glastonbury is that even those who love it will also tell you terrible things about it. Murder when it's hot. Misery when it's wet. Chaotic, confusing, can't get near the stage. Flip-flops? You must be mad – your feet will be covered in filth! The toilets? God, they're – retch – awful. But you must go, they would all conclude. Must I? Apparently so. As the weekend neared, my anxiety ratcheted up. In one stress dream, I was bundled, protesting, on stage to introduce Self Esteem. Weird. In another, I was up there in a spelling competition trying to spell arboretum. Weirder still. On the radio, I sought listeners' advice for a Glastonbury virgin. The first text in read: 'Baby wipes, baby wipes and baby wipes.' I bought some baby wipes. Someone else said: 'Make sure you get your drugs tested at the back-of-house testing sites.' I'll be sure to do that – and if my atorvastatin turns out to be knock-off, I'll be speaking to my pharmacist in the strongest terms. Rob, 49, got in touch to say it would be his first time too, and he was more nervous than excited. My daughters, both of whom would be there, said things like: 'Don't do anything strange,' and: 'Don't do anything embarrassing.' They both asked, sweetly enough, if I had any friends going, because they didn't want anyone saying: 'We just saw your dad walking around on his own.' Parenting is about the journey from being the carer to being the cared for. This has been the weekend my children and I crossed that Rubicon. Are you OK? Have you eaten? Did you bring your sun cream? Toilet paper? Surely it should be me asking these questions, not struggling to answer them. To dodge the traffic, I decided to travel on my motorbike. That way, if it was really awful, I could attempt an exit à la Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. It turned out to be a good decision: I swept right up to the gate, trundled into the secure bike compound and parked alongside the incredibly few motorbikes in there. Bingo. It's the way to go. So there I was, a Glastonbury first-timer not even into the festival proper, already offering dad advice on how to do it better. Fifty-eight is decidedly late to lose your virginity at anything. This weekend felt like going to a Doctor Who convention without having seen an episode of Doctor Who, or taking up skiing having never trodden on snow. Last summer, I went on a cruise for the first time and it was the same then – everyone apart from me seemed to know the ropes. All at sea, then and now. At first, I always seemed to be walking in the opposite direction to everyone else. On one occasion, a river of people marching in the same direction blocked my way. Ill-advisedly, I tried to dance across the general flow. There was an obvious lesson: chill out, Grandad, and go with that flow. I'm not a grandfather, by the way, but I felt like one there. While it was not exactly a youthful crowd, 95% of them appeared to be younger than me. Anxiously, I scanned around for someone, anyone, to make me feel young again, or at least not so old. There were the odd one or two, but not many. 'Shed Seven,' someone said to me. 'You should have been at Shed Seven. Everyone there was ancient.' Damn, that would have been a good place to start. Instead, I broke my duck at Alanis Morissette. 'What's Alanis Morissette?' asked my younger daughter. Fair question, given she wasn't even thought of when Jagged Little Pill came out. So how come I seemed to be the oldest one there, too? I certainly felt more than seven years the senior of Alanis, who looked no different on Friday than she did back then. I picked up a particular vibe about the Glastonbury crowd. It was in the look on everyone's faces, the way they walked, the very set of their jaws. I would characterise it as a mix of pleasure and pain, excitement and exhaustion. By the time I turned up, everyone already looked a bit knackered. Happy, no doubt, but knackered. And this was only Friday afternoon. Blimey. What is this, a funfest or an endurance test? 'Both!' said everyone to whom I posed this question. As one young woman said to me, with feeling: 'The highs are high, but the lows are very low.' Right, I get it now: no pain, no gain. I can work with that, I thought. Once I understood what this Glastonbury caper was all about, I could engage. Pain was certainly something I experienced listening to Busta Rhymes. Without wishing to sound as old as I felt, his act seemed to involve a lot of shouting. Go with the flow, I reminded myself. I put my arms in the air when commanded by the great man to do so. I even endeavoured to move them backwards and forwards in time with everyone else. God loves a trier. I got a text from a friend, Max, a Glastonbury old hand who turned out to be there busting some rhymes, too. My daughter, seeing a chance to get shot of me, led the way to him. Picking your way through a crowd is a skill this festival novice lacks. She yelled at me to keep up with her. This was easier for her to say than for me to do: she is quite small, with small feet, whereas I'm quite big, with correspondingly big feet. It is tricky to make brisk progress without knocking a drink – or the drinker – over, or causing lasting damage to fingers or toes. This must happen all the time, with all sorts of pushing, shoving and bad blood ensuing. I asked Max how often fights broke out. 'At Glastonbury? Never,' he said. And this, astonishingly, seems to be the case. All this chaos, intoxicants of all kinds and general exuberance, yet no trouble at all. Miraculous. OK, there have been political blows exchanged, but that is different. In terms of physical skirmishing, there will have been more nonsense on your high street this weekend than on the whole Glastonbury site. Max suggested we go to see Self Esteem on the Park stage. She had managed to start without me introducing her. And she was brilliant, really properly brilliant. With the help of nothing more than some warmish lager, my mate Max and this gifted woman from Rotherham, I felt a perfect high. I even, incredibly, bumped into Rob, who had texted in to my radio show that it was his first time. We agreed it was all very nice. Yes, this was great. But, as I had been warned, every high is followed by a low. I had a look at Loyle Carner, who was just wrapping up on the Other stage, then called it a day. It was only then, back in my tent, that I realised I had got something very wrong. Two years ago, Lana Del Rey's microphone was cut because she overran her headline slot. From this, I had drawn the conclusion that the organisers took their curfews and noise abatement responsibilities very seriously. Quite right, too. I assumed everyone else would be turning in now, too. I honestly thought my sleep would be disturbed by nothing louder than the sound of fellow campers snoring or, at worst, having sex. How very wrong I was. The snoring or sex would have needed to have been loud indeed to break the infernal racket that banged on for hours, all over the site. Why did they cut poor Lana's mic if this aural pandemonium goes on all night anyway? Sleep came only as dawn approached, and fitfully. Truly, the God that is Glastonbury giveth and taketh away. I rose early to commence the search for some highs to make up for the night's bottomless lows. For reasons of vanity, the previous evening I had dispensed with the compression sock I am always supposed to wear on my left leg. Now, I was paying a price for that, so, odd though it looks when I'm in shorts, back on it went. I was too tired to be anything other than my authentic self. I chanced upon the Glade stage, where a modest but appreciative crowd were swaying in a relaxed fashion to the sound of – and I quote from the programme – Channel One's Mikey Dread bringing roots, rock and reggae vibrations with MC's vinyl and dubplates. Even though I'm familiar with more than half of those words, this didn't mean a lot to me. Still, what's not to like about a slow, heavy reggae beat? Among the swayers there were a good few blokes my age – at last! – shifting their weight from foot to foot. I stood there a while, enjoying it, and, almost despite myself, found my weight tentatively shifting from foot to foot. Then, two very odd things happened. First, the prodigious, dungeon-deep bass slightly changed pitch. I was astonished, not to say alarmed, to find that this – and I'm sorry not to spare you this detail – made my testicles throb in time with the music. I couldn't work out if the other blokes were feeling the same thing. Perhaps Mikey Dread had just found my frequency. Look, I don't mind a bit of something different late at night, but at lunchtime on a sunny Saturday, I wasn't ready. Gingerly, I started to edge my way out, only for something even odder to happen. I was stopped by a petite woman, around my age, who shouted something in my ear that sounded like 'DVT'. I thought this was some reference to my cursed compression sock, but it turned out she had said 'DMT'. Specifically: 'You need to smoke some DMT,' which presumably is what was emanating from the thing she was waving under my nose. I thanked her very politely, but refused. It became clear that this was an extremely good decision. 'The effects of DMT take hold almost immediately when smoked. Users may feel like they are instantly transported to another universe,' I read. Crikey. 'Within five minutes … users may experience increased blood pressure, rapid heartbeat and dilated pupils.' Relieved but shaken, I went off to the Healing Fields. There, a nice chap from Dorset calmed me with instructions on how to carve a heart into a square of Maltese limestone. All this before lunch. There really is something for everyone in this place. The sun got hotter, the crowds thickened and still, to my increasing admiration, not a temper frayed. The sheer good nature of everyone in attendance started to feel almost absurd. My daughter told me to meet her at the Other stage, where she said I would enjoy Beabadoobee – no, me neither. But she was right, I did. It was all getting nicer and nicer. Word reached me of fire and brimstone elsewhere ahead of the Kneecap gig. It came across like news from a distant planet where they did things differently. I neither saw, heard nor felt anything along those lines anywhere I ventured all weekend. By the time Pulp took to the Pyramid stage, the peace-and-love control knobs were turned up to 11. Sensing the softening of my heart, my colleagues took the opportunity to force me into silly hats and whatnot. Everyone sang along. Everyone danced. Even me, nearly. The Red Arrows flew over. What next? Santa? To my consternation, I got a bit tearful. I give in. Glastonbury is a good thing. Anything that makes the world feel this nice has to be a seriously good thing. To anyone who has been scathing about Glastonbury without having attended – as was the case with me – I humbly suggest your cynicism would not survive the reality of being here.
The Sun
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Mummy Pig is set to spend £178 in nappies each month on baby Evie
Mummy Pig is set to get through 5,238 baby wipes, 3,365 nappies and only sleep for an average of four hours a night during Evie's first year. She will take 6,689 photos of the new little piggy in her first year – averaging just over 18 per day. 1 And make use of 1,642 breast pads – which is equal to just under five a day. And the Pig family will receive 13 gifts from loved ones, and receive eight pieces of unwanted advice. The numbers were taken from a poll of 1,000 parents who had a child in the last 10 years and applied to the much-loved family of farmyard animals. A spokesperson for Asda, which commissioned the study to celebrate the birth of Peppa Pig 's new little sister, said: "We want to wish the whole Pig family well as they embark on their new venture as a family of five. 'It's heartwarming to see how invested the nation is with this announcement, but I'm sure their family is the same as many others when it comes to concerns around the cost of living - particularly with three little ones in the house.' The famous new pig is also likely to cost £178 in nappies each month, £205 in baby clothes and £56 in baby wipes. Baby formula could add up to £178 and medicine to total £46 every four weeks. They'll also splash out £60 a month on toys and books for Evie's development, according to the stats by OnePoll. Mummy Pig's birth has dominated the news cycle since her pregnancy was first announced back in February. Speculation raged from that point about what the new arrival's name might be, and whether it would be a boy or a girl. From TV to energy... tips to save you money on 7 bills that are going up in April And the new baby was revealed as a girl named Evie this week, via a TV announcement on Good Morning Britain. The first picture of Evie was also shown on air at the same time, after she was 'born' at 5:34am at the Lindo Wing of London 's St Mary's Hospital. The spokesperson from Asda, which is currently selling a number of baby products on Rollback pricing, including nappies and babies wipes, said: 'The cost of having a young family can really add up. 'Hopefully, the Pigs will have kept some of George – or even Peppa's – baby stuff from when they were smaller, and they can use it again. 'No doubt Daddy Pig will be sent up to the loft to dig out old boxes of toys, cribs and baby bags, but we just hope he's careful up on that ladder.' How to bag a bargain SUN Savers Editor Lana Clements explains how to find a cut-price item and bag a bargain… Sign up to loyalty schemes of the brands that you regularly shop with. Big names regularly offer discounts or special lower prices for members, among other perks. Sales are when you can pick up a real steal. Retailers usually have periodic promotions that tie into payday at the end of the month or Bank Holiday weekends, so keep a lookout and shop when these deals are on. Sign up to mailing lists and you'll also be first to know of special offers. It can be worth following retailers on social media too. When buying online, always do a search for money off codes or vouchers that you can use and are just two sites that round up promotions by retailer. Scanner apps are useful to have on your phone. app has a scanner that you can use to compare prices on branded items when out shopping. Bargain hunters can also use B&M's scanner in the app to find discounts in-store before staff have marked them out. And always check if you can get cashback before paying which in effect means you'll get some of your money back or a discount on the item.
Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Alameda County announces diaper bank program for families in need
The Brief A new program will distribute over 15 million diapers and 37 million baby wipes for free, over the next three years. The program is a partnership between local nonprofits and Alameda County. ALAMEDA, Calif. - The Institute for Research on Poverty says diapers cost a family around $100 per month, per child, and one in three parents are facing diaper scarcity. Alameda County is working to alleviate that cost for residents, and on Monday announced a new diaper bank program that will distribute more than 15 million diapers and 37 million baby wipes for free. The $5.8 million project will make supplies available for three years, at 50 distribution points throughout the county. What they're saying The program is the result of a partnership between Alameda County, local nonprofits and "What SupplyBank does is competitively source these from manufacturers directly, and passes those savings on to the county for this partnership," Benito Delgado-Olson, executive director of said. "The safety net for early childhood development should include diapers and wipes. That's what makes today such a success story, because it will be sustainable beyond the booms and busts of our state general fund and our federal budget process." Organizers say the program is a social service and safety net being integrated with nutrition and other low-income family plans, at a time when federal funds are in danger of being reduced or eliminated entirely. "In the city of Oakland, over half the children under age 6 are insured through Medicaid. It's not something that's a small program. It is actually central to the health of our community," Kristin Spanos, CEO of the nonprofit organization First 5 Alameda County, said. SupplyBank assists with federal diaper bank programs in San Francisco and Sonoma Counties which are at risk. Those programs are funded through May, 2026. "We don't know what's going to happen after that," Delgado-Olson said. "If you cut food assistance, if you cut healthcare, if you cut core services that have been backbones and cornerstones of our public social safety net since the Great Society Generation, the consequences are going to be severe for everybody." The program's organizers are hosting an orientation on Tuesday and after that diapers will be available throughout the county. Anyone interested in learning more can call 211.
