London mother turns to a 1950s manual to raise her son, sparking debate over modern parenting trends
A central‑London mother follows Mothercraft, a mid‑century parenting guide, arguing that traditional discipline builds independence—while critics say today’s approaches foster empathy and resilience.

A central‑London mother says she is determined not to raise a brat, and she has turned to a 1950s parenting manual, Mothercraft, to guide how she raises her seven‑year‑old son, Felix. The book, written by midwife Sister Mary Martin in 1950, promotes a brisk, hands‑on, independent approach to childrearing. The decision comes as many parents navigate a deluge of online guidance and trends such as “gentle parenting,” which has become a dominant voice on social platforms and in parenting circles. Proponents of Mothercraft argue that the old method emphasizes discipline, self‑reliance and a moral compass, while critics say modern practices better support emotional development and resilience in a changing world.
The author, who describes herself as wary of the current glut of online parenting content, notes that gentle parenting—spreading encouragement and avoiding conflict to ease a child’s emotions—has exploded in popularity, including hundreds of thousands of TikTok videos. She says the trend can feel overwhelming and sometimes at odds with her goal of preparing Felix for adulthood. The Daily Mail feature from which this account is drawn frames the choice as a deliberate one: to test whether the “old way” yields steadier, more self‑reliant children in contrast to the more permissive norms of the digital era.
[Image: Annette with her son]
Part of the 1950s playbook she adopts centers on letting babies nap alone outside as a form of sleep “air bathing.” The practice, inspired by friluftsliv and popular in Sweden, holds that fresh air strengthens a child’s immune system. For a Londoner, the plan required adaptation: Felix slept in a small back patio area rather than out on a busy London street, with his mother nearby, knitting or using her phone as she kept watch. The goal, she says, was to secure a balance between closeness and independence, arguing that a child benefits from learning to settle themselves without constant adult intervention. In her recounting, the result was a quick path to regular napping and better sleep patterns for her toddler, and she frames sleep training as compatible with a healthy parent‑child relationship when handled with care and responsiveness.
The manual’s guidance extends far beyond sleep. Mothercraft promotes starting toilet training early, even in the first months, by encouraging the child to “feel” and recognize bodily cues and to practice going when ready. The author describes holding Felix above the toilet after feeds, and even an outdoor party in Notting Hill where wind and cues were used to introduce the concept. While noting that there are accidents along the way, she claims Felix was toilet‑trained by roughly 18 months, a timeline that would astonish many contemporary parents who follow later targets. The piece emphasizes that the aim is efficiency and practicality, not punishment, and it highlights anecdotes that the early toilet routine can reduce long‑term diaper costs.
In keeping with the era’s economy of toys and experiences, Mothercraft argues against expensive, screen‑heavy entertainment. The family philosophy rejects the notion that children must be lavished with costly gadgets to be happy. Instead, the mother describes using everyday objects—a saucepan, a wooden spoon, and cardboard boxes—as constructive playthings that spur imagination. The article notes the author’s restraint in favor of simple, at‑home or garden activities, arguing that boredom fosters creativity and social development rather than dependence on high‑tech stimuli. The approach is framed as giving children “love, not riches,” in the sense that affection and purposeful tasks shape character more than material luxuries.
A strong emphasis on independence also informs how Felix learns to participate in family life. As he grows, he is enlisted in helping set the table, clearing dishes, and even ordering food in restaurants or handling small shopping tasks. The aim, the author says, is for the child to become capable of functioning in a society that is constantly changing, not for the child to be protected from every challenge. The book’s broader philosophy frames this as essential to building confidence, good manners, and practical life skills that will carry into adulthood. In turn, the mother notes that greetings, gratitude, and respectful communication are reinforced through daily routines and simple household responsibilities.
The Mothercraft approach also includes health and hygiene practices that would surprise many modern families: cod liver oil as a remedy for ailments, regular use of fragrance to manage tangles in hair, and other wellness tips that reflect mid‑century medical and beauty norms. The manual also contains chapters on women’s health and even “Fathercraft,” which extols shared parenting duties—from supporting the pregnant partner to sharing household responsibilities and joys. The article portrays this as a structured, balanced model that explicitly recognizes fathers as active participants in childrearing, not as distant bystanders.
Supporters of the 1950s framework argue that authoritative parenting—balanced discipline with warmth and clear boundaries—produces children who are capable, motivated and able to cope with life’s demands. The piece notes that this contrasts with some modern debates about “gentle parenting,” which, according to critics cited in the same narrative, can leave children feeling anxious, insecure or entitled when boundaries are too soft or inconsistent. Those discussions reflect a broader cultural debate about how best to cultivate resilience and social competence in a world full of distractions and competing voices. The author acknowledges that no parent can predict outcomes with certainty, but she maintains that a clearly defined moral compass and a structured environment provide a stable footing for a child’s growth.
The account also situates this personal experiment within a broader context of perceptions about parenting styles. While the author concedes that the 1950s playbook may appear out of step with contemporary norms, she argues that tradition offers practical tools for raising an independent child who can navigate a complex society. The piece uses her reflections to illuminate a recurring tension: whether to prioritize quick, modern conveniences or to invest in long‑term skills such as discipline, accountability and self‑reliance. The narrative does not claim that the vintage approach is universally applicable; instead, it presents one family’s decision to test a century‑old manual in contemporary London life, with observations about challenges and benefits as they unfold.
The Daily Mail feature frames the discussion as part of a wider discourse about how parenting has evolved in the internet era. It notes that the modern landscape includes a spectrum of advice—from highly regimented plans to more permissive and emotionally responsive strategies—and that families often blend approaches to fit their values and circumstances. In the end, the piece presents Annette Kellow’s decision as a conscious stance on parenting philosophy: a belief that a child’s character is formed by the scale of expectations, the scope of responsibility, and the consistency of guidance, rather than by the intensity of the latest online trend. For now, she says, the goal remains clear: instill a moral compass, resilience and manners, and let Felix grow into a person who can face a changing world with confidence and kindness.
Sources
- Daily Mail - Latest News - I'm so determined not to raise a brat, I'm following a 1950s parenting manual: What happened when ANNETTE KELLOW refused her son toys, toilet trained at three months and left him outside alone
- Daily Mail - Home - I'm so determined not to raise a brat, I'm following a 1950s parenting manual: What happened when ANNETTE KELLOW refused her son toys, toilet trained at three months and left him outside alone