Lockdown, Day 65

So here we are, week 10 of lockdown in the UK. To be honest I didn’t think back in March that we  would get to the end of May and still be saying it’s too early to go ‘back to normal’, whatever normal is. Personally I don’t think the cultural lifestyle our society had convinced us was ‘normal’ actually worked. Toiling until we dropped, hardly any time for families, the materialistic obsession with always having to have more, putting families into huge amounts of debt, bills going up and up but wages staying at a level that was for so many, barely enough to survive on, In work poverty becoming as widespread as the pandemic we’re fighting, not to mention the pressure school children and teens are put on by their peers to have a certain brand of whatever or face ridicule and bullying. How is that a normal anyone would want to return to?

In our house, life has been significantly more relaxed than usual. I’ve noticed the washing doesn’t need doing as much, our writing and creativity has become prolific, bedtime stories and cuddles can be a bit longer and getting up at the crack of dawn are a thing of the past except for the dogs’ morning ritual. Sure the waistline’s are expanding a bit but the house is a much happier place, not to mention our pets are delighted to get so much attention and the garden is looking better than it has in years. The children still have school work to do and so there has been the frustrated debates over how they manage their time but they aren’t so anxious. They aren’t worrying about all the things that normally play on their minds and consequently not getting stressed.

I understand it is quite normal during these times to experience fluctuations in emotions as I mentioned before. Lethargy is something I’m not overly familiar with however. Tiredness and exhaustion I am well acquainted with and as someone who is always on the go or doing something, unable to just sit and watch tv, I have, on numerous occasions of late, found myself lethargic for no apparent reason. Could it be that I am experiencing a physical outworking of subconscious concerns?

Schools and shops may be getting ready to reopen but with over a thousand people a day still testing positive for Covid 19, not to mention those who haven’t been tested, I fail to see how it is safe to do so. The recent VE Day celebrations, as morale boosting as they were, encouraged people to abandon self isolation as restrictions were lifted for a few hours. The hot weather, bank holiday weekend and half term holiday has beaches crammed with sun seekers and sneaky holiday makers out for the day. What I cautiously ask now is, for a bit of sunshine, enjoyment and so called ‘normality’, how heavy will the price be that inevitably must be paid.

Step mum in Training - April/May 2020 (7)

The Covid19 lockdown has given me opportunity to see what it would be like to be a stay at home parent. I have to admit I am really enjoying being at home all the time. Helping with schooling is an interesting as I try to assist one of the boys with his school work and found it's a bit like dragging water up hill in a hole filled bucket but perhaps this just shows teaching children is not necessarily my greatest skill set, however I'm actually enjoying doing the whole mum thing - ssh.

We're enjoying our new normal too. It's so nice to be able to do things we never had time for, like get a full night's sleep, get work done around the house, spend quality time as a family and enjoy a slower pace of life. Our youngest and I even renovated the back garden. 

My husband is not a fan of parenting books as each child and situation is different. I however am happy to try them, with the possibility of gleaning knowledge I am more than aware I do not possess. I'm currently reading 'Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World' by Kristen Welch. This is an interesting book that I was quite easily able to delve into. There are plenty of examples regarding the behaviour of children at different ages from toddler through to teens, many of which I recognised in my experience on this strange journey called parenting. I kept thinking to myself 'I really wish I'd read this when they were young ' but of course, I didn't, I can't turn back time and now I have to just hope I didn't get it too wrong. There is one section in particular that grabbed my attention which I found helpful. 

'1. Correct kids when they're young (birth to elementary)

2. Direct them as they grow (middle school, junior high)

3. Connect with them as they get older (high school and on).'

Valuable food for thought I shall ponder.

I'm not a viewer of soaps but when time allows I do like to binge watch episodes of Holby City on catch up. There was one particular storyline that caught my attention more than the others. One of the permanent characters discovers their estranged daughter is transgender and is now a man. The response of the parent was cold, dismissive and cruel. This set me thinking, if one of my stepchildren or even my nieces, nephews or godchildren announced they were gay, bi etc or had always felt they were trapped in the wrong body and wanted to change to the opposite of which they were born, how would I react?  Would I be dismissive, refusing to acknowledge the news? Would I be angry or hurt? Would I be understanding and reassuring? Would I be loving and encouraging? These are questions of which I know the answer to some and can only hope I'd get right for the other. The bottom line though surely is that everyone wants to be loved and accepted for who they are. Jesus said 'whoever is without sin shall cast the first stone'. We all have aspects of ourselves that others find difficult to tolerate, some of those things being sinful or considered to be so, some quirks that are misunderstood or choices that are disagreed with. Tolerance and acceptance is something often not found in society, surely therefore the one place it should always be found is at home, with your family. 

We try to be good Christian parents, guiding the boys in the way of the Bible, encouraging their relationships with Jesus. Sometimes this is so difficult when we are very aware that they watch our behaviour and reactions to situations and we are less than the example we hope to be. Often it will be noted that I need to be 'a bit warmer'. 

I still have days where something happens, my emotions swing and I'm plagued, in some cases crippled with self doubt, as anyone knows, it's extremely difficult trying to parent teenagers at the best of times. To be honest my biggest mistake is engaging in things that will potentially cause an arguement. Being a support to my husband rather than a parent has always worked before, I just get so annoyed that I forget to stick to it.

On the whole though, it's going ok. 

‘It’s A Musical’

I am a huge fan of musicals. Ever since my grandparents took me to the local pantomime as a toddler, and every year of my childhood after, I’ve been hooked. Now, I realise that pantos and musicals are not the same but, for me, one led to the other. The sets, the music, the dancing, the costumes, the explosion of life in bright glittering colour, it all drew me in like a moth to a flame. I’ve lost count of the number of productions I’ve enjoyed, and sometimes endured, they are not all cut from the same cloth, or how many times I’ve watched my favourites, mesmerised, reciting from memory every word of the songs, the scripts, the incidentals of the orchestra. But what is it about musicals that capture our attention and our hearts?

I’m yet to enter an auditorium before a musical performance where almost every seat isn’t filled. The atmosphere is electric, tangible with anticipation, often with visual nods (dress style, pins, t-shirts) to the show from members of the audience. As like attracts like, my theatre loving companion for the evening and myself prefer to get there early, ready in our seats for when the orchestra begin to tune their instruments. At this point, the chatter starts to diminish as the clock ticks towards the excitedly awaited start of the show.

Now I’m not going to list all the musicals I’ve seen because, to be honest, I’m pretty sure I’ll forget some, but let’s have a closer look at two of my favourites.

Kinky Boots; This musical is fantastic. Set in the factory town of Northampton, the shoe company of Price and Sons based on the true story of WJ Brooks Shoe Company, is a failing business that takes an unexpected, controversial move to save the factory. Enter Lola, the vibrant, outspoken, larger than life drag queen who turns Charlie’s life upside down with her knee high kinky boots, fabulous singing voice and sassy sharp wit, she commands the stage with ease, oozing glamour and attitude. I have to admit, I absolutely love Lola’s character, her confidence is infectious along with her determination to be who she really is, regardless of often cruel and violent opposition. Charlie is a good hearted soul under the thumb of a girlfriend with high aspirations. Determined to set his own path away from the family business, life however, inevitably has other ideas. When a chance meeting between Charlie and Lola throws them together, both discover a world neither knew of with hilarious results.

I never tire of Kinky Boots, it’s memorable soundtrack, or the one liners that stick in my head and keep me chuckling.

Something Rotten; What can I say about Something Rotten? It’s ridiculous, hilarious, catchy and not at all what you’d expect from a play about William Shakespeare. The story, very loosely surrounding Hamlet, is about the fierce competitiveness between playwrights in Elizabethan England who will stop at nothing to outdo each other, including going to a soothsayer in disguise. Common sense has no place here, the ridiculous is practically a sport, the rolling of the eyes of Queen Elizabeth 1 is easily imaginable. Do not be put off by this however, as it is the combination of these things with the catchy musical numbers that makes this show almost addictive. So far we Brits have not been treated to a live version in England, only the soundtrack which paints the picture for us in great detail. I for one, will be first in line for tickets when it eventually crosses the Atlantic to the West End.

Now, I just want to take a moment to mention those non theatre based big screen musicals that well and truly put me on the path of appreciation for this kind of entertainment. For me, this started with the 1974 version of The Slipper and the Rose and went on to Michael Crawford’s Barnum to Mary Poppins and Chicago, and the more modern Greatest Showman, La La Land and Mary Poppins Returns. Each has their own charm and perhaps cringe moments (Dick Van Dyke’s iconic ‘cockney’ accent), but those I’ve mentioned have great soundtracks, those songs that earworm us at the most inconvenient moment but make us smile regardless. Just because it isn’t on the stage doesn’t make it any less enjoyable, however, although it’s perhaps in a slightly different way. Likewise, a show doesn’t have to be award winning to be amazing, and even though you may not like a particular one or group - I’m not especially a fan of The Sound of Music, Cats, or Oklahoma - that doesn’t mean others shouldn’t appreciate them. It is highly likely that others won’t like your favourites, or will think those you really don’t like are the best thing since sliced bread. Wouldn’t the world be a boring place if we all thought the same!

There are literally hundreds of wonderful musicals on offer, from Joseph and His Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat to Jersey Boys to Everyone’s Talking about Jamie to name only a very few. So why do we love musicals so much? They use song instead of the spoken word, plus dance, to portray and enhance a story but not necessarily a plot. Sometimes it’s simply for entertainment. Whether the plot be happy or sad, we connect with the characters and are absorbed. The songs get into our heads taking up residence, coupled with the visual aspect which transports the viewer into that world close up, therefore when we hear the music, we re-enter that experience again and again, making us wanting more like a drug. Make no mistake, musical theatre is Big business and it’s here to stay.

As Lola in Kinky Boots says,‘Ladies, gentlemen, and those who are yet to make up their minds!’ check out these musical gems, if you haven’t already, or any others you stray across, and remember, "It’s a musical."

Images - IMDb, Pexels, Wikipedia

Baptism Testimony

A testimony has traditionally been about your life story up to how you came to Christ, but mine is not about that.  It's about Jesus and my relationship with Him. I grew up in a Christian family going to church religiously every week, several times a week. Like so many, I believed that because I went to church, I was a Christian but the fact is I wasn't. I was just going to church and going through the motions. I believed in God, I owned a Bible & sometimes I prayed, but I have since realised this isn't being a Christian, it's going to church. A favourite phrase of mine is 'sitting in church doesn't make you a Christian any more than sitting in a garage makes you a car or sitting in Macdonald's makes you a hamburger'. For me being a Christian isn't about duty or being seen to be doing the right things, it isn't about religion and man made rules and regulations, it's about My personal relationship with Jesus Christ. A close intimate relationship closer than that of a sibling or a best friend. I have found the best way to cultivate a close bond of friendship with someone is to really get to know them, to spend time talking with them and in their company. I am so blessed to have friends like that here today. A close relationship with Jesus, our Lord and Saviour is no different. It took a devastating event in my life to realise I'd got it all wrong and seek God possibly truly for the first time in my life. To put my trust in God to look after me and guide me along the path that was His Will for my life, not the one I had chosen for myself that had subsequently gone horribly wrong. 

Life with Jesus is not a bed of roses and anyone who thinks all their problems will disappear when they become a christian is sadly mistaken. But. Without Jesus I wouldn't be here. Not just on the here on the beach making a declaration of faith, but I literally wouldn't be here. Jesus is my Saviour, my comfort, my provider, The One I can trust without question, knowing there is no ulterior motive for help or answer but that everything God does is because He loves me so much He sent His only Son to die for my sins, my failings, all my wrong doing, and He would still have Jesus if it was just and only me that needed saving, but it wasn't it was all of us. As the human race our purpose for being here is to have a personal relationship with Jesus who is God our creator. It's not about being religious, it's about having a simple faith. Faith & Trust in God and having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. 

The following words have become an anthem for how I want to live my life....

All I have and all I am is Yours; there's nothing that I have on earth

that doesn't come from You.

I lay aside my pride and worldly worth;

serving You is the greatest thing

that I could ever do.

For unless You build this house,

I am building it in vain.

Unless the work is Yours,

there is nothing to be gained.

I want something that will stand

when Your holy fire comes;

something that will last,

and to hear You say 'well done',

giving glory to You, Lord.

Cornish Road Trip - written August 2011

I have, for a reason I may yet discover, decided to travel around Cornwall entirely on my own with nothing but my tent and my mostly working car for company. This may not sound that important but I have never been on holiday completely alone before and I am not a fearless teenager. I’m 32, I’m a single girl on an adventure, and for me, this is a BIG deal.

List of essential:

Tent
Mallet - do NOT use your foot!
Spare pegs and that thing to pull them out with.
Sleeping bag
Pillow – use cushion from car
Blanket
Stove & spare gas canisters
Trangia (pack together pots & pans)
Toilet roll
Kitchen roll
Baby wipes
Wellies, umbrella & mac
Folding chair
Folding table
Matches.  Tip: keep matches in the car or at least in a plastic bag. Saves frustration with damp matches when in need of that 1st cuppa.
rucksack
camera and spare batteries
mobile phone and car charger. 

 

Having replaced my 40 year old much loved but now well past it 4th hand khaki green Challenger tent with a modern blue 2-man tunnel tent, I packed up my little green Peugeot 206 and headed for the West Country.

I had intended on leaving at 5.30am but not being an early bird, I always knew this was ambitious, but still, on the road by 8.30am isn't bad– and my cats has been fed – mustn’t forget them. I never listen to the traffic reports, first mistake. M25 south side is closed both directions. Ok, not a problem, armed with a satnav and a map – yes I’ve learnt to read a map – M25 north side instead. Yes it’s a little longer but what’s the point in fighting a road block. Everything went smoothly, music up, full fuel tank, 1st 3 nights booked, until part way down the M5 took 2 hours to go 10 junctions. Very glad I didn’t leave any later. Finally the traffic cleared and the queues started for the nearest service station, so I drove straight to the next one. Taunten Deane Services, I can highly recommend the Pasty Presto stand outside the main entrance. Alternatively there’s always Burger King – yuk – inside and Costa coffee mmm.

Finally I reached Cornwall and its like passing through an invisible barrier where everything on the other side is slower. As cars fly past and although I am driving the same speed had been for most of the journey, now it feels like I’m going far too fast. From St Austell I take the B3273 to Mevagissey and then the long winding road to the Seaview International Campsite in Boswinger which I stayed in last year. On exiting Mevagissey the road has sharp bends and in some places very narrow single track. Whatever the speed limit says, go slower! About 2-3 minutes from Boswinger the road becomes split in 3 parts, left, middle and right. The satnav directs up the right-hand track but don’t take this, its extremely narrow, steep and should be ignored. Going straight ahead (middle road) and staying on the 2-way road is a much better idea, a lot less hair raising and less hassle although fractionally longer.

1st night – The tent went up without a hitch and then the rain came. Having camped for many years in a tent, for some in the Highlands of Scotland and having had a good teacher, I knew I’d done everything correctly, but as the wind howled, the rain fell heavily and the thunder crashed, I was still a little nervous it might not withstand the battering. It's considerably colder in the tent than at home and its going to be a long night. Good job I brought multiple blankets.
 
The next morning my tent is still standing, the sun is shining and a helping hand to a fellow camper has got me an invite to breakfast, nice people with a similar sense of humour to mine. As they packed up to leave, I headed for the Eden Project. On the way there I called in at the Lost Gardens of Heligan where I spent a pleasant day last year, but this time I went to Lobbs Farm Shop in the entrance – didn’t have time last year. It’s a nice well presented shop, quite expensive – except for eggs and jute bags, but the people are friendly & will help in any way they can including offering recipes of desserts lost in time – and selling the ingredients of course. The shop also has demonstrations etc in an adjoining room so in my 5 minute stop I also went to a free art exhibition.  


I waited 9 years to go to the eco paradise The Eden Project, coming last year  v  on a very short visit solely to see it. Now I've come again and am not disappointed. Tip on approach : the furthest car parks (cherry and melon) are over a mile away from the visitor's centre/ticket office. Unless trying to clock up more pedometer steps or cycling to the entrance (bike racks are provided) park closer. Also wear trainers or good walking shoes & thinner/cooler clothes. The Rainforest Biome is well worth a visit but it is hot & very humid. 

So far I am having a good time, the tent is staying up and have met some nice people. Moving on tomorrow. It’s raining on and off but I don’t care, I have my (union jack) umbrella and wellies and a big person shaped plastic bag so I’m all sorted.

Day 3

Change of plan, I've decided to put the steam train off til later so instead an explore of the local beaches. Here I found Caerhays Castle & the beautiful Porthluney Cove.

If you've ever seen Pride & Prejudice, (the one with Colin Firth not the one with Kiera Knightly), there is a beautiful scene where Elizabeth Bennett is in a carriage with her aunt & uncle travelling along the very long tree lined driveway to the home of Mr Darcy. As the carriage turns a corner there is a break in the trees allowing for a clearing and here is where she first sees the magnificent Pemberley beside a lake. Although not accompanied by the appropriate music, I felt as though Elizabeth Bennett must have on first seeing Pemberley. (Pride & Prejudice, the one with Colin Firth not the one with Kiera Knightly) in seeing Caerhays Castle come into view.

The next stop for the night is Penance Mill Farm Touring Park. (TR11 5HJ. 01326 317431) On approach go to the bottom of the hill, not turn off earlier as sat nav says.
The tent is up. I'm pitched in the overnight field, there is a couple in a tent next to mine and another couple in their 50's opposite. All seems fine so I'm off for a little explore around Falmouth. It's evening when I return and my little corner of the field looks a bit different from when I left. The two couples have now gone and there is now from what I can hear, men in every tent. this may sound like an ideal opportunity to some but not for me. Being a woman on her own, not really knowing where I was, this made me uncomfortable to say the very least.

11.30pm: Too scared to sleep, so talk to my friend on the phone for hours and regular updates on facebook makes me feel a little safer. Have I just been kidding myself that I could do this? Really? By now I'm seriously considering finding the nearest Travelodge for tomorrow night but for now sleeping in the car is the best I can do to get some rest, its less roomy than the tent but much warmer and I feel safer. Good job I’ve got little legs.

Day 4

In Falmouth it’s regatta week & I'm off to historic Pendennis Castle. Cornwall is blessed with pleasant weather, the sun is high and warm with a gentle sea breeze. A day exploring before moving further afield.

A change of schedule, tomorrow there will be a medieval jousting tournament at the castle in full dress, music, food etc. I will definitely be coming back for the festivities. I rang a couple of motels but there was no room at the inn so I put aside my anxiety and phoned the campsite I’d just left.

As I hadn’t planned on staying another night I now wish I hadn’t taken my tent down, but the owners had no problem with me staying another night or 2 which was a great relief.  The campsite I didn’t like turned out to be really nice - how wrong could I be. 

A fantastic day watching the Jousting, unfortunately though I took more notice of the wind than the sun and now have a face like ripe pomegranante.

The day is well worth seeing but don’t forget a picnic and a seat as the day is long and so are the queues for food/drink. Also sunburn. Even though its overcast and breezy, I’ve got sunburnt but needed a jumper most of the day.

A brief stop at the Minack outdoor theatre is a sight to behold. Hand built from the rock by a small group of volunteers, then used to perform Shakespeare plays with the magnificent backdrop of the sea behind. A note of caution, the road to the theatre is very steep. Drive slowly.

After a fascinating yet tiring day at Tintagel Castle, the legendary birthplace of King Arthur, I put my possibly misplaced trust in my loyal friend Satnav. I have been taken down a narrow winding road with a 20% gradient. I don’t mind admitting I was a little scared. The trees blocked out the light so I couldn’t see the bottom, had no idea how far down this road went and for a moment froze, but even though there was no-one behind me I couldn’t go back, I couldn’t turn round, I could only go forward – into the dark, the unknown, gear in 1st & foot on the brakes I rolled down the hill. Fortunately my fear was short lived as I had only moved about 6-10 feet before I could see the light again 50 feet or so ahead of me. Bit hair raising getting here. My poor car must have thought I was torturing her.

Its getting dark and its been drizzling for hours, but the tent is up, its dry and the kettle’s on.

….until next time,

I hope you have enjoyed it and my trip tips will prove useful on your own adventures. 

Am I too old to play with.......

I am by nature a very creative person and when I find something I like, I really throw myself into it, for a while anyway, regardless of how much space it takes up. My current fixation is dolls houses, although my husband says it’s an obsession.  Ok, I’ll accept that, I have a tiny little obsession with grown up dolls houses. Since I was a little girl I wanted a dolls house of my own, but not one that was already perfect, I wanted one that needed doing up. Just like my mum did when she was a child, I would make furniture from match boxes with split pins for drawer knobs and the like, whatever I could make use of. Finally while I was in secondary school,  my dad brought one home he’d found at the local tip. It needed a lot of work. The first thing I wanted to know was, ‘will the roof open?’. It didn’t,  that never stopped me from taking a screwdriver to it. Now 25 years later, I have a creative space that is currently home to a considerable number of doll's houses, some in better condition than others. This, I hope, will be a life long creative obsession. Come along and join me in my journey of trial and error in a miniature world.

step mum in training - part 4.

These past many months I haven't written my blog. I haven't wanted to write down my thoughts and be slammed for them. 

These blogs are written from my own perspective of how I see it is being a step mum rather than the kids are this or that. It's very if not brutally honest and often written through tears before being rewritten so less pain filled. It is not appreciated by all and I have received quute considerable flack for it but thankfully on the whole people have been very encouraging and supportive.  I am not naturally a mum. I have no maternal instincts and was not designed for this role. Every day I'm witness to a torrent of evidence as to why I am not suited to this role no matter how hard I try, yet here I am, desperately trying to get something, anything right.  So this is my private & often embarrassingly public struggle with being a step mum.

To say me and the older one don't get on is an understatement. I have a limited understanding of children, zero understanding of teenagers and each day this is screaming evident. A very common exchange of words in our house goes as follows:

'Arghhhh what?!'
'All you do is nag'
'Why are you here?'
'...... you got this one wrong'
'You don't help yourself when you react'
'You always sound like you're having a go'

To be fair that's not all that is said but it is what I hear, what I filter therefore the internal tapes are having a field day. Unfortunately some months ago I got so angry I punched the panelled door except it wasn't wood. I'd completely forgotten the panels were actually painted panes of glass and my fist went straight through it. I'm not proud of myself,  all I feel is shame. Surprisingly it didn't hurt half as much as the telling off I got off my husband after, even with the shards of glass in my hand. And therefore I go to my automatic go-to solution. I withdraw, hide & cry. 

I'm trying so hard to be a proper mum, a half decent mum, but I'm just not made that way, this is however the role I'm in so I have to work it out. I pray, take it back and try to do it all myself, then realise that was foolish and the loop starts again. Perhaps I'll be better when we have grandchildren.

Step Mum in Training

July 07, 2018

For almost a decade I have sometimes endured but mostly enjoyed, a quiet, child free home, doing just as I please whenever I wish, interrupted only by visits from friends and family. My grown up 2 bedroom flat has been my sanctuary & craft studio for 8 years where I could come and go as I wanted, leave my dvd's in a pile, certain they would still be there when I came home from work, eat when I liked & the only one who noticed I was late home because I'd dropped in on this or that friend or taken 2 hours to do my shopping was my cat. I haven't shared a house with a child since I was a child myself and my only dependants were a variety of cats and goldfish.

Then I met ........

Now, along with my new husband, I have also gained two young housemates. Over two years my new family made themselves at home, leaving bits and pieces with each visit, left their mark on our new house and my car with pictures, 'boy' decorated bedrooms, minions and blue bath paint, gradually encouraging me in their own unique ways to adapt to the changes I would soon find myself living with every day. Just over 8 months ago that day came & hit me, HARD.

Having two young boys that have a regular meal time and not the ad hoc breaks I'm accustomed to, is the very least that I've been trying to get used to. My freezer and cupboards now contain things they never did before, and I find bits of lego and toy cars in my handbag and shoes. My TV is taken over by CBBC and football, I already dislike some of the theme tunes, and why on earth is Horrid Henry entertaining?? Although I do quite like Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

Our youngest is an early bird and delights in wandering into our room barely after dawn to announce the sky is awake, he is awake, therefore so must we be. Fortunately I too am an earlyish bird, enjoying the quiet of the house before anyone else is up. And so my new young son wanders across the landing to the bathroom or around the kitchen after me chatting away as I make a much needed coffee, completely unaware that although my eyes are open, they are not always focussed enough at that time of the morning to see where his little but rapidly growing feet are.

There are things I have no clue about. For instance, I now have 3 males in the house and I don't understand football, play fighting, Minecraft, computer games of any description and why is the cleanliness of a toilet largely apparent only to me. I learnt quickly that I don't know anything about what makes a good school, how much they have changed since I was at school, and as my beloved and the boys moved into the area, choosing a school, is something that, even with my best intentions and efforts, I still know absolutely nothing about and it's best I leave it to my husband. He has after all had a few more years of practice than me.

I don't know what's normal behaviour for kids either. Is it different now to how it was when I was growing up or is it just that I was different? I was an introvert child who from what I understand was very quiet & would amuse myself much of the time. I certainly didn't speak to my parents the way some children do now but am I just being 'old' wearing rose tinted glasses? Either way it confuses me.

It's a strange thing being a step parent. When you make that commitment to your husband or wife, you are also agreeing to raise their children, children you did not give birth to and have now been thrown in at the deep end to bring up as your own. Don't misunderstand, I don't resent it or them in any way, but it is soul destroyingly hard work and until relatively recently, I can honestly say that I could not and did not appreciate what parents have to do, or how tired they get. Wow, the tiredness or to be exact, weariness, was a real eye opener. Most of the time I am a relatively placid person but I've discovered a deep anger and frustration I didn't know I was capable of. The children are no worse than any others, they just do what kids do, but even though I knew parenting pushes your patience to the limit, it brings me to tears when those limits are quickly reached & shattered.

I'm not naturally a mother. I don't have those maternal instincts that some mothers have and have no idea how to find them. In a way I envy my friends who want to have as many children as possible and fill their homes to the rafters with an ever expanding brood because they absolutely love spending every single second of their life with their children. Even if that's not how they feel all the time, they are happy to impart at any available opportunity how fantastic it is to be a parent and overflow about how there is no feeling as wonderful as knowing they have brought another little version of themselves into the world and no sooner are they home from hospital as there is another on the way. I'm not like that. Sometimes I feel that perhaps I was made wrong.

When people say being a parent is the hardest job in the world they weren't kidding. No matter how hard I try to get it right, or at least not wrong, understand how best to approach or tackle an issue or concern, do what's best for them and be a good mum, I always feel like I'm messing it up, saying something thoughtless out of frustrating or weariness that will backfire in my face. I'm so conscious of accidentally doing something that will scar them forever, damage their self esteem or the bond between them and their dad. I try my best but largely have no idea what I'm doing. I'm learning as I go along but am constantly playing catch up. It's like swimming in an ocean with land in sight but far away and the best swimming skills I have are the doggy paddle. One false move and I'll go under.

One of my fellow parent friends said, every parent feels like they are playing catch up and then just when you think you've got your child sussed, they change the goal posts again and you have to start all over again'. She is so right.

This together with selfishness, meltdowns - from me and them, tantrums - from them, rudeness, and what I perceive as ungratefulness for what parents have to sacrifice, results now and then in me bursting into tears either at home, at Church, or in the middle of the department at work and looking like a waterfall for an hour while my boss sympathetically tries to calm me down. I've discovered to my horror I am capable of murderous thoughts I couldn't previously believed to be possible and feeling a complete failure as a human being let alone a parent because I have them. All I can say is when the mist descends for them or you, disengage immediately!

The difference between being a step in parent and when you've been with the child from birth is that you are already a few years behind when you start and when you have given birth to a child you grow and change with them rather than being thrown in at the deep end part way through. I find though that following my husband's lead is the best chance I've got at understanding my new charges. From what I can gather this is a very common feeling amongst all parents, regardless of how it came about.

Gone are the days of being able to spontaneously take off for the weekend or dropping round to a friend's for dinner or a coffee that I've been used to or perhaps in parallel universe, as a newly married couple. Everything must be planned, organised, worked into the routine and back in time for dinner. On the plus side, the boys are that bit older being in infants and juniors rather than babies or pre-schoolers, so it's not quite such a military expedition and we can trust them to walk along the street without holding our hand's unless they want to & not have to plan scheduled toilet stops and places to warm bottles. Rather, my bag hides comics, tiny lego men, snack bars and juice cartons.

I don't understand the language of children either. The boys are really into Minecraft and football and to my embarrassment, glaze over when they start talking about either. I try, I really do, but I have absolutely no idea what they're talking about and would probably have more luck if they were speaking in French. I am by no means fluent but my pigeon French at best makes more sense than creepers, diamond keys, raining liquorish, lava that looks like baked beans or the off side rule. On the plus side we now have 2 fabulously decorated bedrooms, one devoted to football, the other to minecraft, both of which the children helped design and decorate. As nice as they are, and the children love their bedrooms, I have to admit that I love our Parisian themed bedroom more with cream and gold wallpaper, soft lighting and crushed velvet purple curtains. A little sanctuary amidst the chaos.

I battle with the often overwhelming frustration of trying to be a good wife and mother, feeling like I'm drowning in a sea of dirty plates, plastic cups, undistributed laundry, strewn about shoes and unrealistic expectations, I am so thankful our bathroom has a lock on it where I can hide in the shower until the hot water runs out and the feelings/fears have passed. The recurring state of the kitchen drives me nuts but we now have a dishwasher. We didn't really have room but in the hope that it would help with the removal of the land mass I affectionately called Mount Crockery, I made room. Thankfully it has helped. I also devised a rota for whose washing got done on what day, laminated it and stuck copies of it in the kids rooms, bathroom & by the washing machine. Each person has their day with a day in between for drying I no longer have to separate the laundry. This gives the kids a little responsibility as well. They know when their day is and if their washing basket isn't outside their bedroom door before school it doesn't get washed. The boys also had to choose 3 jobs each out of 6 that would be down to them to do before dinner. So far so good. 

We have no choice other than to be organised. Despite my best efforts, I am not organised at all and Hubs often has to text me shopping lists because I've forgotten it again or remind me the kids have to be somewhere so I need to hurry up getting home from work by whatever time because I've got part of the dinner in my car and have forgotten the time. I am told that before school & bedtime routines are essential. Throw in football practice, matches, clubs, homework and I need for lists for everything.

I must throw in a fantastic tip given to us before I forget: Invest in a trampoline, 10 foot if possible or the biggest your garden will comfortably take. It's the best investment we've ever made & keeps the boys busy for hours.

I often think nostalgically back to the days when I would take off to Cornwall on my own with my tent and explore for hours on end, I miss camping. We have planned to go at least once a year, somehow I have to make sure that happens. Part of me dies a little bit when I can't go camping and exploring the great outdoors. That's perfectly suited to kids so it shouldn't be a problem except our eldes hates camping. Fortunately they both enjoy running around the woods, climbing trees and jumping in big muddy puddles in wellies.

I love bedtimes with our youngest. We read stories cuddled up on his bed, say prayers, I answer his torrent of questions, and share kisses and tickles until he falls asleep. He loves to read, especially Shakespeare. He has lots and lots of questions, sometimes about life, sometimes about the story, sometimes about random stuff that I have no clue where it came from. He has a beautiful heart and wants to love the whole world until nobody is lonely or hungry or sad and everyone learns how to love God more. That is something we will fight to protect in him. He wants to love the whole world by hugging them, being their friend and feeding them chocolate. The world can be a very selfish place. Anyone (child or adult) who genuinely wants to and strives to make the world a better place through love not dictatorship should be encouraged. Enthusiasm should be encouraged and gently guided to be maximum effectiveness don't you think?

The Eldest's main love is football. He lives, breathes and sleeps it. He recites players and match results like a commentator, writes and reads all about it, and plays for the school and borough. His big ambition, like many boys, is to play for his favourite team professionally. Every Sunday one or both of us with Little'un in tow, drive him to whichever football match he is playing and cheer him on from the side lines, with a flask of coffee and hopefully a bacon buttie. When we come home he is either on the trampoline practicing kicks and flicks or asking when he can play Fifa.

I'm very critical of myself and perfection is always the goal but I've had to learn fast how to give myself a break (no easy task for me) and that it's ok to admit when I can't cope. To be honest though saying it out loud is one thing, believing it myself is another. I am a chronic worrier and have a desperate need to always be perfect even though I know it is unobtainable. I have discovered since taking up the role of mum how much of a control freak I am. I knew I was to a level although it looked different but becoming a step parent has uncovered it in its rawest form. As far as kids being challenging is concerned, I'm learning to be an Olympic standard swimmer with doggy paddle skills but I keep being told to not fight every battle (very difficult for me), make routine mine and their friend, to hold on to the good moments & remember the bad bits will pass. I don't know how effective that really is but as I have nothing else to work from its good enough to start with. I find the answering back the most tiring, that and the messiness.

I've never been very good at the tidiness game but I don't do well with other people's mess at all. Funny isn't it. Theoretically there shouldn't be any difference, it's just all mess but noo, theirs (anyone's other than mine) drives me nuts, but mine I don't see for ages. Then I go to my sisters house which is like a show home even with turbo legged children in it. How does that happen? ? I think she waves a wand or gets fairies in! 😋 I wonder if she rents them out? ? 

Do not underestimate how hard making a transition like this is going to be if you ever do this yourself. I love my husband and the boys very much but acclimatising is hard. VERY hard. Mood swings, frustration, tears, pulling my hair out, wanting to run away, desperation, learning to cope with or over look those irritating habits which seem impossible to ignore, and what really can't be. In just 2 months I had got to the end of my rope and started having physical reactions to food due to the stress. I'm pleased when I get to the end of the day and I haven't cried from frustration and I haven't mentally pictured slamming their heads into the wall. Obviously I don't do anything to risk their lives, safety, cause injury or cause mental scarring but in my head. ......

The boys aren't troublesome all the time, it comes in waves but aren't we like that from time to time. We both accidently do cause unnecessary conflict which results in shouting and tantrums and sometimes those go on for days in one way or another but other times the kids are lovely. I'm not finding adjusting to any of it very easy from being single & living alone for so long. But we have our ground rules and when it comes to the boys arguing with us, we disengage immediately...or at least try to.

If they are repeatedly disobedient there are consequences. With both of us working, everyone in the house has to help out. How they keep the bedrooms is up to them until someone is visiting or the smell emerges onto the landing. If they fight/argue between themselves we leave them to it to sort out how to work together. If they draw blood or there are black eyes, then we intervene. And we make routine our best ally.

And so 8 months on life has settled down a bit. We are over the first tsunami of irritations that goes with getting used to living with someone, calm is more frequent and routine is becoming our friend. The spring is here, a country park not far away is becoming a familiar haunt where we can all get back to nature, walk, ride bikes, play football and climb trees. The weather is getting warmer and consequently boys are looking forward the summer holidays before start a new school year and a secondary school.

Something I've discovered is the importance of praise. When the children do well at school we make a big deal of it. When they've had a great week, behaved well, and helped around the house, they have the reward of their favourite pudding at the end. The look on their faces when they are congratulated for even the smallest of achievements means so much to them.

In our house it's ok to make mistakes, its ok to get things wrong and to feel that we will be judged or criticised too harshly. It's a safe place to be ourselves, to go to church or the supermarket dressed as Spiderman, a bit scruffy, rainbow coloured and hippie like or to dance and sing badly if that's how the mood takes us and know that nobody minds. We all know that the next set of challenges are only round the corner, but for now life is not too bad at all.

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Step mum in training - autumn 2018 (6)

Part 6

It's autumn. We've been in Dorset for just over a year, now settled, are starting to embrace the new opportunities that living here presents. It's funny how my hometown, that I so adamantly refused to move back to for 2 decades after moving away 21 years ago, now fits me like a glove.

The children spent the summer on the trampoline or at the beach while we worked, were in the garden or also at the beach. The advantage of living in a seaside town is that it has so much to offer in the warmer months and the beach is a must as often as possible. It also is most advantageous as we don't have to leave town to enjoy one of Britain's popular holiday destinations.

Our house is a noisy, hectic one, with the boys glued to the tv much of the time - not to be mistaken with using the tv as a babysitter, the boys seem to believe they will die if they are not attached to a screen for at least a certain amount of hours per day. The dining room was turned into a music studio/work room for Hubby & our lodger some months ago and I have sought creative solace in the quiet of our bedroom closely followed by our faithful dogs at my heels. I'd like to say also our beautifully flourishing garden but in the drought the plants have struggled or died and the weeds have run riot no matter how much I attack them.

It really upsets me when hubby & I fight. I see red & don't disengage with the eldest. I cannot hear my tone of voice, talk to the kids wrong, he comments, I get upset.  I blow my stack, we argue, I get upset, he gets angry, I withdraw & cry.

I really struggle not flaring up in anger because I don't know how to deal with what I perceive as attitude, rudeness & disrespect. I don't disengage when I should. The frustration I feel makes my blood boil and the thoughts that go through my head, although I would never act on them, make me so ashamed that I am not better at this, especially when I know how much I adore my niece, nephews & godchildren. My main couple of jobs since 2005 have required me to be caring, patient and tolerant. I can do those as second nature, so why do I find it so difficult to apply the same skills to being a parent?

Been trying to educate the boys (and the grown ups) to the importance of looking after our planet and making changes in our everyday lives to help repair the environment. This has been met with mixed success.

As we properly entered into experiencing the teenage years over the summer, it was a lovely change that he was helpful, polite and wanted to assist the husband on the BBQ. It may have been short-lived but so are all moments when teenagers emerge from emo - land and enter the real world however brief it may be.

I don't regret marrying my husband but I do frequently think someone else would have done a better job than me as a mother.

Step Mum in Training - July (3)

Part 3

The summer months have brought the delightful joy children can have with a garden hose,  a paddling pool and anything else at their disposal.  In our case,  the trampoline & football together with the warm sun, inexpensive super soakers from Lidl and lots of splashing about is bringing hour's of endless fun for the boys in the garden. It's lovely to see them having so much fun. Surprisingly I don't mind the wet muddy foot prints across the floor and up the stairs, the collection of mud splattered soggy towels strewn across doorways and chairs and the swim shorts dumped on the bathroom floor. I remember having similar memories when I was a child in my parents back garden. My dad had made us a 10 foot paddling pool out of breeze blocks and tarpaulin & a see saw-roundabout from a car jack,  a scaffolding plank and a couple of cupboard door handles. We pretty much destroyed the garden but we had so much fun.

We (the parents) now have a code word so that I know to stop and let the husband take over. Like a danger word when I just can't let go of my frustration with whichever child.  So far actually it works, at least it does if I'm paying attention. I don't do myself any favours really. It's easier to prevent a strop turning into a tantrum with little'un if we use the power of distraction, but more often than not I forget and an eruption ensues. Due to the slight shift in who does what, my husband is much more the front runner now and I am more in the background. It has made a significant difference in keeping our home calm, when I let him take the lead with issues.  In a way it's sort of like thinking of myself as a live in housekeeper that lives with children and takes care of all the practicalities rather than as a mum. It may be an odd way of looking at it but for today at least it sort of works. 

Sunday morning before church didn't go as planned and we had to go to the later service. Despite the irritations at the start, I was able to spend some unexpected time getting ready to go out and pay some attention to feeling attractive instead of chucking clothes on and running out the door. It was such a pleasant change to put make up and moisturiser on. To dry my hair properly not just quickly put it up in a bun and check that I didn't put just one earring in again. It makes such a difference when the opportunity to look nice arises rather than whatever is most practical. 

I am by nature a negative person.  This comes as a surprise to me sometimes when I am dancing round the kitchen at work and purposefully trying to make people laugh.  But despite my optimistic outlook overall,  when in a situation I feel unqualified for,  I am negative and anxious. Or more accurately crippled by fear and worry. Whether how I see things has any bearing on reality or not is anyone's guess. I'm doing the best I can but I get it wrong, a lot. I try to overlook the irritations but it's a real struggle. Unfortunately this means that I perhaps have a lop sided view of parenting, only seeing the negative when I should be enjoying the positives too. 

Youngest comes downstairs in clean pj's after a shower. 

Me: 'you have 5 minutes until bed'. 

Small one: 'could I have a drink please?

Me: your drink is on the table.

Small one picks up the cup and tips it backwards over his head. 

Oh good grief! I have no words. (My head drops in disbelief).

We knew the time would come when our youngest started to grieve for the loss of his mum, but that still didn't make it any easier to watch as he began to understand that mummy wasn't coming back,  that he could never cuddle her, and that no amount of crying or question asking would help him remember her.  Up until now it has not really bothered him.  He's been very matter of fact about 'oh my mummy died' if asked where she is or what she does, sometimes asking why but then fine again.  But it has hit him with force and for a 7 year old it must be very confusing. In his sadness, our eldest also feels his pain acutely, privately reliving memories past. To help them move through the pain to brighter thoughts,  we have made a memory wall for the younger in his bedroom of people he loves with pictures of their mum when she was well, when she was a child, being he can see the resemblences and of when he was a baby,  but also pictures of happy times with Grandma and Grandad,  my husband's sister,  his brothers and cousins.  For the elder son we support him in his own way, giving him cuddles when he wants them, recognising a particular type of behaviour is actually the outworking of emotional pain,  and giving him the time to spontaneously light a candle and say a prayer on a visit to Canterbury Cathedral. 

 

This seems to really help the boys and after a 2 or 3 weeks he is back to his old self and had stopped mentioning it so much but instead looks at his wall. 

It's funny how messy and chaotic a house with a family in it gets compared to one that just has adults as its inhabitants. It's a different kind of mess,  a bit like the aftermath of a storm or on some days, hurricane. Things dumped wherever in random places and on walking into a room you just turn round shutting the door. I try my best to keep it under control but is like shovelling snow in a blizzard.

At last it's the last week of term. Older son has his leaving disco before going to secondary school which after transition week he is very much looking forward to,  and younger son moves on from key stage 1 to 2. I say at last, apart from the odd day hubs or my in-laws will be looking after them, I'll be at work. But for a few weeks there are no clubs,  school, after school activities or general running around to do other than football practice. A few weeks of playing in the garden, water fights and lazy days for them,  and a few days away downtime for hubby and I to celebrate our first anniversary and catch up on much needed rest. 

Step Mum In Training - Perception Verses Reality (2)

Part 2 of my blog. You are welcome to read if you would like to and you are welcome to share but please be gentle. This is a very personal account of my struggle as a new step mum.

* Warning. Contains honesty *

Hallmark moments are so often the aim but in reality are largely unobtainable.  Although filled to the brim of best efforts and intentions, when family life comes crashing in, those idylic moments of how we imagine something will be are far from what Hollywood movies would fool us into perceiving what life is really like.
Of course the problem with hallmark moments is that they are impossible to reach.



(Some of this was written over the weekend it relates to and was highly emotional for a number of reasons).

 

Apologies for the bittiness but this is my average month.

 

It's the end of June ....

 

May started at an annual Bible conference.  What should have been a spiritually uplifting fun filled weekend by the beach ended up being from the start a stress induced, emotionally frustrating series of flash anger points resembling rapidly firing pyrotechnics.

 

Perception vs reality.  Sharing a bedroom with the children for any more than a few hours Will lead to arguments.

 

I'd been looking forward to the weekend for months and no one was going to spoil it.  How foolish I was to think it would be the same as all the others just with more people.  Children in the mix change Everything! 

I'm ashamed of myself. I got so annoyed with the elder son.  We were on the beach having lunch with our friends and he was throwing stones.  We asked him not to, and again,  and again. If nothing else because as there was a much younger child in our group copying him but he didn't stop.  Moving round behind us he started throwing them in our direction but not quite to us.  'Stop throwing stones please'. Nothing.  He pretended to throw a stone at us but let it fall behind his head ( he was half laying on the beach), letting one now and then hit my bag.  'Stop throwing stones,  one will slip out of your hand and hit one of us.  I don't want to spend the afternoon at the hospital! ' I was getting really annoyed by this point and that there was the moment it went very wrong.  Looking me straight in the eye, he picked up a stone and pretended to throw it at my face. He didn't let go of it but I flinched,  he laughed and that act of defiance made me so angry. He carried on laughing in my face and I felt totally worthless. The red mist descended and I was furious.  I don't know if it was fortunate my husband saw how angry I was or if I suddenly saw sense but I backed off, to allow myself time to cool off. What was I doing?! I'm such a bad parent I wanted to run off down the beach and keep going until I couldn't get back, ever. 

The rage inside me terrified me.  I'd become so angry I barely recognised myself.  How can a child do that?  He went back up the beach in a strop,  me in a daze, shaking inside and holding back the tears.
 

I can't do this.  They are going to drive me insane.  I hate who I'm becoming...and in my anxiety filled head that means I hate myself.

In hindsight perhaps it wasn't as bad,  it certainly wasn't from hubby's perspective but from mine it was awful.

Older son keeps mispronouncing Schnitzel. It's funny, he can't work out why we're laughing,  we can't tell him.

I can't stand 'Everything is Awesome' from the LEGO movie.  Whenever hubs puts it on for the boys I can feel a nervous twitch developing.

Perception : after finishing washing of hands, dry hands on towel provided that is hanging on rail. 
Reality: remind child to go and wash their hands, remind again and justify why it's necessary. Once completed,  every towel in the neatly folded pile on shelf in bathroom gets pulled out, used and either stuffed back on shelf or dropped on the floor in a heap.

Perception : children aged 7 & 10 are able to aim straight into the toilet bowl.
Reality: if they are distracted pee goes over the seat,  the side and floor which nobody notices until I go in the bathroom and it smells & looks like a men's urinal. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!  And for Heaven's sake Flush the toilet!! 

 

Son speaks to me with contempt. It grates on my nerves.

An obvious revelation. It's our fault the older behaves as he does.  He mirrors us.  We lose it.  We are hypocrites. How can we expect him to behave better when we get angry and do what he does.

 

Help! The dishwasher has stopped working,  mount crockery is groaning again & to join it in the messy house club we also have 2 huge piles of clothes waiting to be put away overtaking the living room and our bedroom along with the washing hanging up in every space on the lounge.  On the plus side I finally managed to get another hoover to replace the broken one that, despite our best efforts makes the floor look significantly better than what we'd managed previously complete with a little fluff and gubbins border refusing to move as if sewn into the Bayeux Tapestry. Who would have thought a vacuum cleaner could bring such joy.

Hubs is in the first year of being self employed so he is working every hour he is awake and I work full time and then come home and attempt to plough through the housework for a few hours until bed.  Am I really being unreasonable asking the boys to help out around the house?  Apparently so.  'Nag nag nag' is a familiar response.

Can I have a phone?  No

Its a school night,  You have to be in by ...... time.
Appears half an hour late.
No more going out after school.

 

Our eldest and I clash,  a lot.  We drive each other crazy,  I don't annoy him on purpose but it's like a headlong collision in slow motion that suddenly speeds up every time we're in the same room. 

I want to scream.  I can't do this.  Please someone save me from myself.

Today I just don't care. I'm disillusioned and fed up of their 'why should I care' attitude.  Yes I know they're children and don't understand that the world doesn't revolve around them but why am I so often left feeling like the bad guy when I am just trying to help?
 

Then in a morning daily reading on a day in was feeling irritated,  we read this:

How to Please God
‘If you suffer for doing good and endure it patiently, God is pleased with you.’  1 Peter 2:20 NLT

You become like the people you spend the most time with, so choose your friends carefully. If you spend time with angry, resentful people you risk becoming an angry, resentful person yourself. That’s because attitudes are contagious. Here’s a wonderful story that illustrates the point. A man purchased a newspaper at a newsstand every day. He always greeted the vendor very courteously, but in return received very gruff and discourteous service; the vendor would rudely shove the newspaper in his face. The man, however, would politely smile and wish him a nice day. This went on for several days until a friend asked, ‘Does he always treat you this rudely?’ The man replied, ‘Unfortunately, he does.’ The questioner asked, ‘Are you always so polite and friendly to him?’ The man replied, ‘Yes, I am.’ The questioner continued, ‘Why are you so nice to him when he’s so rude to you?’ The man replied, ‘Because I don’t want him to decide how I’m going to act.’ The Bible says: ‘If you suffer for doing good and endure it patiently, God is pleased with you. For God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps. He never sinned, nor ever deceived anyone. He did not retaliate when he was insulted, nor threaten revenge when he suffered. He left his case in the hands of God, who always judges fairly’ (vv. 20-23 NLT). That’s how to please God.

 

That rare mortifying moment when you take your child to school,  they run off ahead to see their mates and you then walk past and dare to speak to them. Even 'bye' bursts the cool bubble and you get the awkward 'er yeah bye' whilst trying not to acknowledge your existence in front of his friends whilst still trying not to appear secretly happy you're there.  Only then do you remember doing the same when you were a kid and that little bit of joy that comes when you can subtly embarrass your child is worth the moment of laughing out loud as you walk away. Of course you never want to do anything that will really embarrass your child because that creates a divide and resentment but occasionally there is a moment that presents itself for a little teasing without any harm being done.
 

Husband: 'why did you pinch your brother?'
Younger one: 'he annoyed me.'
Husband: 'why did you annoy him?'
Older one: 'we were playing with the light sabers, he tried to pick it up with the force and I got there first'.
We couldn't stop laughing. 

 

Perception vs Reality: Drive to the supermarket or shopping centre for a quick visit :'Why are we going out?' 'I don't want to go shopping'.
Grab what we need : 'Please do come along, we won't be long'. 'No you can't go and buy sweets.'  'we're going this way.'
Kids wait quietly for the couple of minutes while we pay: 'please stop touching that.' 'leave your brother alone'. 'Will you stand still and stop mucking about for 5 minutes'.
Leave without any drama and back home: 'Stop it.' 'Why do you have to play up even when we're here for your benefit?'.
This is why going out for coffee without the kids is lovely. Even if only for an hour, it's like a mini holiday.
 

Older son has only a few weeks at primary school left and today he has his graduation from Future Leaders ceremony. The whole school are in attendance to support and see what they could achieve if they work hard. Considering that the boys have only been in the school for a year and it usually takes 2 years, this is quite an achievement for him. He could only bring 2 people. As my in laws have played such a huge role in his upbringing and I have only been around for a relatively short time I was happy to forfeit my ticket so one of them could go with my husband, but he would like me to go and that surprised and touched me. I felt sure he would want Grandma to go. We took our places in the school hall with the other parents. I felt a little out of place, I'd never gone to
anything like this before. It felt a bit odd when I went to my godaughter's Christmas play at nursery last year so this was weird but kind of good at the same time.

It was our Son's turn to go onto the stage and he was so proud of himself. Quite rightly so.  He behaved so well and grown up, I was very proud of him as he stood there in his gown and mortar board and shook the mayor's hand. He got his award for business and enterprise, not being able to keep to his excited self what he and his friend's had to do for their project.

             

                    

 

Son's Perception : it's the weekend,  I'm going out with my friends. 
Reality: the parents have plans & I can't go out with my friends.  They are so unfair!
Subsequent sulk for 10 mins.

Perception : the boys are in bed,  Hubby is out for the evening,  a bit of TV for me.
Reality: someone has fiddled with the TV so it only works through the Xbox and I don't know how to use it.


I am a rubbish mum. I try my best but I cannot do it.
 

I think I've been coming at this whole mum stuff from the wrong angle. The boys had a mum, they were her whole world.  She was a lovely woman taken from them too soon.  Do they really need another mother figure? Youngest never knew her so he has only ever known Hubs to be his parent. Eldest was a very little boy and remembers her as the most beautifully kind woman who loved him more than anything and took him to the park. Do I have any right to step into her long awaited shoes? They don't need another mum, they have a wonderful father who does a fantastic job. My role would be most effective as their dad's Girl Friday,  his number one fan, his support and back up so Hubby can continue being the best dad he can be. I am best being there to hold his hand when he needs support,  give him a hug when he's exhausted and at the end of his rope, and to calm the situation when it gets too heated.

 

Parenting is unbelievably hard.  From very soon after taking on these monkeys I started to ask myself how on earth I was going to do it & more than frequently concluded I couldn't. But amidst the tantrums,  school runs & arguments there are a few high points that make the chaos & shouting a little easier to bear. .......

Son introduced me to one of his friends as his mum. 

The boys 'dad dancing' with my husband.

Watching the boys make up their own dances to our 'old' music

Cuddles in the morning

Giggles

Laying on the bed cuddled up with Youngest reading Bible stories, Shakespeare and Roald Dahl to him. 

The reaction the first time they tried a Lemon. 

Eldest gave a compliment.

Youngest helping me bake.

Overhearing older helping younger to understand something. - especially if it's a rule. 

I love you's without the tantrum or sorry first. 

The boys playing nicely together.
Discovering Youngest like Van Gogh's paintings and is quite good at painting himself.

Thanks to Hubby's work,  we managed to get away for a few days without the kids to beautiful Brighton for the fringe festival.  What a treat.  Catching up on sleep, no squabbling and tantrums, no waking up at the noise of things being thrown against the adjoining bedroom door at 6am.

Children are funny creatures.  They fill our lives with noise, laughter and chaos.