The Crazy Days

Today has been a terrible day.

Not feeling super today!

I'm shattered. I've been working straight for about a month now, I get little to no time to myself and we have struggled to make ends meet all month. For the last three to six months.

Today was a 'let the kids watch television without remorse' kind of day.

Today was a 'please help yourself to all the snacks' kind of day, and a 'please, I don't actually care what you are doing' kind of day 'as long as you leave me alone to actually ferment in my own shittiness' kind of day.

Sorry kids.

It's also an 'oh god, I feel so guilty day'.

Because I spent all day yesterday knowing I would be in charge, knowing that I had this opportunity to do stuff with my kids, but instead I tapped out.

 I sat down and went 'Nope. Not today, motherfucker.'

I am out of resources, both physically and mentally.

I flinched every time my kids asked for something, groaned mostly every time the baby wanted up and actually had tears in my eyes when after the third time of very nearly almost getting the baby to go to sleep (which he desperately needed) a delivery man knocked on the door, waking him up.

The door of the fridge fell off completely, pretty much nearly killing the baby and/or shearing my oldest son's legs and glass smashed everywhere, and once again there was a ton of washing, a ton of cleaning to do and a lack of appropriate healthy snacks to eat, meaning we were all filling up on guilty stodge (well, i was - the kids didn't blink, obviously).

There was no petrol in the car to drive anywhere more interesting, and it was raining outside and no money in the bank to make life even a tiny little bit easier.

Some days we wake up to text messages that tell us once again we are over the limit on our already-stretched overdrafts and I cannot count on two hand the number of times I have turned to Dave and said, "how are we going to do this?"

But we always manage.

Somehow.

I've done the Tax Credit calculator thing about a bazillion times attempting to work out how in the hell we cannot afford the childcare for next month (summer holidays, so extra childcare needed) and we have scrutinized our holiday leave, our ins and out and our what-we-can-do-withouts intrinsically.

We are tight on time, tight on money, tight on energy.

Like always, I've paid out more than I can afford in all of these things, promising myself I can catch up with them all: and I will.  I just need more time, money and energy. You know?

It's a gradual and slow incline, but we are getting there.

We have faced a lot of obstacles with illness and moving and car smashes and stuff, and it's definitely been no picnic. We have come out okay, intact. Still going.

But sometimes it just feels a lot harder than it is, and I always have to remind myself; we have our kids, we have our bodies, we have our health, we have our home.  We have food to eat (mostly) and we have resources.

Today was a bit of a tap-out situation though.

I've been working extra hours to try and make up the shortfall since changing hours after maternity leave and this, plus all the other stuff; end of term trips and events for the boys, trying to find money/things to sell/keep on top of housework, birthday bits for Owen etc

I've been doing crazy cleaning, trying to get things together for family coming over for Owen's birthday last week (and it still wasn't up to the standard I wanted it to be - another thing that fell by the wayside), running between the kids and trying to find meals that will satisfy the kids from our meagre cupboard store (thank goodness for free school meals!)

Trying to work out how in the heck we would feed/water guests and also make sure our youngest boy got a wee birthday gift (gawd bless xmas club at the toy shop!)

I am tired.

Knackered.

This is parenting without backup.

This is parenting without the available auntie on-hand, the grandparent on pick-up duty, the close buddy play-dates.

This is parenting on the hoof, with a wing and a prayer and being stretched to the edge of your limits.

Constantly.

Without let up.

This is parenting night and day and then night again and then day with work and school and other stuff, day after day and week into month after month.

This is endless.

This is feeling guilty endlessly for various things; the scrimping on meals because of time, the forgotten coats, the shirts that still have stains on after they've been washed, the certain feeling of judgement coming from teachers, other parents, family, friends for not fulfilling x,y,z obligation.

The endless attempts to make sure kids get alone time, craft time, more time, not too much t.v time, not too much screen time, that they are reading, that they get to express themselves, that they eat well and eat enough, that they are getting good experiences, that their shoes fit, that they have clean hair and teeth and everything else.

It's the hours and hours spent facilitating their every need and want and whim from dawn until dusk and in between, making sure we don't raise our voices when we are stressed, making sure that others treat them fairly and that they also treat others with the same regard.

We don't have clubs, or after-school care or babysitters.

There's no overnights or long weekends or few hours off.

There's no 'date nights' or 'couple time' or 'me time'.

There's a lot of midnight frantic tumble-drying.  A lot of crazy fiddling with numbers and dates and time.  A LOT of thinking outside of the box.

Instead we forge out our own time.

We craft our own special family days.

We make sure we separate fun from real life.  And we always take a picnic.

We take minutes to count our blessings and we try to do good where we can.

Life is not easy.

Life is difficult at best.

But there's a heck of a lot of happy.

Every day these boys get older.  And bigger.  And belong a little bit more to the world.

Tom loses yet another tooth.  Ethan comes out with yet another characterful announcement and Owen takes one (or seven) more steps across the room.

One day we will look back and miss this; the crazy days.  The busy days.  The fullness of life and the challenges and the open-mindedness it brings.

The creativeness.

Today was very difficult.

Today was very hard.  Today I needed another adult to pick up the reins.

But the years are short.

And if anything, this family is living proof that things are always changing.

Always for the better.

Slow but sure.

Knowing first-hand what we get through each day, I'm definitely proud of our achievements so far!

The best is yet to come.

Playcuters, Tick Tock Frocks and Dead Time: My Favourite Mistakes

The best mispronunciations of anything have come from my own children's mouths. They keep me laughing and giggling throughout the years, and they add to the crazy, lovely, funny and rich tapestry of the lives we share together.

Of course, the kids grow, hiccups are corrected, and all too soon it's easy to forget about the small turns of phrase that really kept you going through the tumultuous early years.

Reading threads like these on Mumsnet really make me laugh, and I reckon that we've coined up enough from our two Blethering Boys to get you giggling.

Here are some of my favourites - it's good to have them all written down so I can remember them!

Thinking about Dead Time a bit too much...

Thomas

Dip Dip - Tomato sauce.  Now this is what we always call it in our house - from adults right down to kids.  You can't have chips without dip dip!

Not-Nots! - Octonauts.  Borne out of a very frustrating morning when Thomas was 2 years old and really wanted to watch 'not-nots' on television and I couldn't work out what the hell it was he was screaming for.  He got very frustrated, I got really wound up and there may have been a few tears shed.  I can laugh about it now, but when your first-born is shouting so vocally for something and neither of you can communicate to each other, it's pretty stressful!

The Den End - No matter how many times we try to tell him, whenever he is doing a maze puzzle, or is actually in a real maze, he is always on the look out for 'den ends'.  DEAD end, son, DEAD end. Which leads me nicely onto...

Dead Time - Yup.  Apparently it's not bed time.  It's dead time.  No wonder they are both always so against going to bed.

Mimit - 'Back in a mimit' is something I still say to them now, usually quite seriously.  That was one of those cute things that sticks.  Tom spent an entire summer when he was just over a year old telling us that he would, or I would, or Dad would be 'back in a mimit'.

Efin - This is the way that Tom spelled Ethan's name when he first started to write.  Like my 'efin' little brother.  Thank god for grammar.

Bother - Wee Efin wasn't just a great addition to our family, but something Tom spoke about constantly to strangers and anyone who'd listen about his 'new baby bother'.  Accurate.

Missisefes - Mississippi. What Tom counts to, like in the Lego Movie, when Emmet is counting 'one missisefes, two missisefes...'

Stanleeinpurl - Stan Lee, In Peril.  Tom is obsessed with Lego computer games.  This time last year he was extra-especially obsessed with Lego Marvel Action Superheroes on the Playstation 3.  It's a great wee game and we totally recommend it for your 5 year old. (I quite enjoyed it too)
A great wee feature in the Marvel Superheroes game is that the great comic book writer, Stan Lee, is a character who is trapped.  Indeed, he is 'in peril', and you get bonus points for 'saving him'.  Tom was obsessed with Stanleeinpurl and just said it all the time, as if it was this poor Lego man's full name.

'Just softing it, Mum'

Ethan

Ethan has very recently had grommets inserted, so is still learning the lingo.  While he does struggle with some stuff and we do take our time to correct him, he is very often still feeling his way around the English language.  I would just like to iterate here, I am in no way worried about his language - he has come on leaps and bounds in the last four months alone and shows us new and amazing speech every single day.  He's a clever wee bugger.

Softing - To 'soft' something is to stroke it a wee bit.  So when I say 'DON'T TOUCH in my best scary foreboding voice when he is raking around my jewellery box or touching something he shouldn't in a shop, Ethan sweetly replies 'My not touching it, my just softing it'.  And he gets away with it, adorable wee bugger.

Frissmiss - Christmas.  Cute as hell.

Frockodile/Tick Tock Frock - Ethan is a massive fan of Peter Pan and Jake and the Neverland Pirates, so he constantly talks about the 'tick tock frock'  (tick tock croc) and is always on the lookout for 'frockodiles'  I never want this to change.  I have tried to correct him, but this is one in particular that's just not budging. He's adamant!

Playcuter - Computer.  Yup, it's the computer and you play games on it, thus it is a playcuter.  I have stolen this for my own use.  It's friggin' genius.

Santa Plaws - He comes at Frissmiss.

Keeojeon Wahnd - Nickelodeon Land.  Where we went in the summer holidays!  He loves Keeojeon Wahnd!

Cunting - Cutting.  A perfect example of him using this particularly joyful mispronounciation was when he was 'cunting' his Playdough with his cutter and repeatedly shouting 'cunting! cunting! cunting! cunting!' while caught in the moment, completely oblivious while we struggled to breathe through laughing so hard.


Ah...sweet, sweet memories!
 

Starting School: No Worries!

This time last year, I was choosing my first ever school uniform for Thomas.  At 4 years old, he had always been a big lad for his age, but in his uniform, he looked too small.

Too small for school, too small for a classroom with 24 other kids in it.

Too small for going to packed lunches and after-school club.

Too small to have to make his own friends in the playground.

Too small to learn how to do his own tie and not forget which one was his coat at the end of the day.

His voice was high and he still pronounced some of his words incorrectly.

He still sometimes put his shoes on the wrong feet.

He still went to the toilet and left the door wide open because he was 'too scared' to close it.

Thomas has suffered from Glue Ear too - a condition which means that his attention span isn't always up to par, especially in a classroom situation where he has to focus even more on instruction.  Glue Ear has seen him frustrated, and also sometimes come off as rude or cheeky, which he really isn't - it's just that sometimes he mishears or hasn't heard at all.  And this worried me a lot.

I understood him.  I understood when he was frustrated.  I knew he wasn't cheeky or rude or ignoring anyone on purpose (well, most of the time!) and I knew when he was being a little bugger.  He had previously attended a small, private nursery, where the teachers had time to get to know him well, and had watched him grow up.  They knew when he was in a good mood, when he was being belligerent, when he was tired and when he needed to be cut some slack.

How would a teacher, who didn't really know him, who had to deal with 24 other children and their individual needs interpret my little boy?

I knew as much as anyone that first impressions count - and I was terrified that my wee boy would be labelled or judged straight off the bat as someone who didn't listen, or who was misbehaved - and stuff like that sticks with a kid.

Not to mention all the other worries: would he make a friend, be able to keep up with everyone, be able to ask for the toilet if he needed to go, be able to sit still in class, be able to do what he is told and just be a good lad?

I think every parent goes through this

There's something about putting your child into uniform that changes things.  You fear that they will change completely, that they will no longer be your little baby any more.  That they will just become another face in a sea of faces.

Many tears are shed by parents in the run up and on the first day of school.  The feeling you get when you take them into a classroom for the first time and see their name on their peg.  The lump in your throat when you have to leave them for that first playtime, take the first school photos, watch them file into line before going into the classroom without you for the first time...

It was tough.

That feeling that your baby, the one that you have obsessed and watched over for the last five years, the one whose poop colour you have stringently documented from birth, who you rocked to sleep in the middle of the night, who you read stories to every night (but not the scary ones, they are 'too scary mummy!'), the one you breastfed, expressed milk for, weaned, agonised over which nursery to send him to, chose out his first walking shoes, tried so hard to make sure he had access to everything that could nurture his development, who crawls into your bed in the middle of the night because he is scared...the feeling of him maybe not needing you any more is huge!

The feeling of him being swept up and swallowed by all of these other people - the teachers, the lollipop man, the dinner ladies, the p.e teachers, the after-school club workers; suddenly you feel like you are laying this little soul, who is a part of you and a product of you, out for judgement and ownership by others.

You put him into this little uniform, and make him look like all of the others, and you put him into a classroom and suddenly...suddenly...there he is...on his own...left to use all of the tools that you really hope that you equipped him with.

Don't panic.

This is how I felt last year when I sent Tom off to school.

But really, it's not so dramatic.

Really - it's been an amazing year.  And I promise you; it's not the end, but rather the continuation of your adventure together.

But with more tools in your backpack.

Thomas is still my baby (shh!  He'll always be my baby!)

He is still scared of the dark.

He still needs help to get his shoes right sometimes.

He still pronounces some words wrong.

He still has some crazy toilet habits!

And he still occasionally slips into our bed in the middle of the night.

And he loves school.

Yes, the first few weeks were a bit odd.  Yes, he did have some tears at times - some kids didn't want to play 'his game' in the playground, he struggled with his tie which made him anxious, he didn't always enjoy the school lunch that was served up to him, but when all is said and done - he dealt with it all himself.

Without me there to fuss and fret, he made some new friends.  He worked out who he did and didn't like.  He asked me to show him how to tie his tie (which he can now do) and you know what - he didn't starve.  He worked out what he didn't like and ate what he did.

The awesome thing about school too is the amount of times someone tells you how great your kid is.  There is no better feeling than checking out your son's first attempt at spelling or getting a note home from the teacher saying how good his reading is, or, even better, attending a parent's night, where the teacher says she would happily have 25 of your son in her classroom.

That's right - a wee person that you made!

Watching your kid run off into the sunrise at the start of a school day as he forgets to say goodbye because he is so eager to go is one of the most bitter-sweet feelings in the world - but so relieving and really great.

So, try not to cry too much on that first day of school.  Don't spend the night before fretting and worrying - you are all going to have a great time.

This is not the end.  This is just a continuation of the already-amazing things that happen when you have kids.

A new chapter of firsts.

This summer is already so different.

This summer is:

First real bike ride (without me pushing!)

First wobbly tooth

First summer holiday where we could stay up later

First late night party

First project

First chapter book (one of many this summer :) )

First school trip

Things are easier, because he is more mature, more reasonable and more settled within himself.

I am so proud of my well-rounded and happy wee guy.

We still have our moments - he is still a baby yet, but we are getting there.
I am really excited to see what next year brings.  And more importantly - he can't wait either!

Easy Thank You Cupcakes

We are very lucky to have a lovely wee garden in the middle of a group of gardens, and our over-the-fence neighbours are a lovely elderly couple who have lived in their home for 47 years.

I can't even begin to imagine how nice it must be to be able to stay put for so long.  I still very much dream of owning my own house - the stress and pressure of finding somewhere suitable to rent is very hard sometimes.

However, we are enjoying where we are for now, and are very lucky to have some fab neighbours!

And these neighbours have been very kind and offered us a planting box so we can grow our strawberries free from the snails which roam our garden.

There are things I always take with me when I move, and as a keen gardener, my strawberry plants are a must.  Once they start fruiting, they keep producing year upon year and my children love nothing more than to harvest the patch all through summer, so I always make sure they come with us.  The boys love a strawberry harvest!

Strawberries can be planted anywhere really - they are quite forgiving plants and endure a lot.

Our planter is coming over tonight when Dave gets home from work, but in the meantime I'm keeping the karma going by baking some cupcakes as a Thank You for such a lovely gift (after much bartering, that's all they will accept!)

So here are my...

Ingredients:

3 Large eggs
175g Caster Sugar
175g Soft Butter (unsalted)
175g Self-Raising Flour
3/4tsp of Baking Powder
3/4 tsp Vanilla Extract (or other flavouring if you like to mix it up!)

For the icing:

350g Icing Sugar divided into two
3/4tsp Vanilla Extract (or other flavour)
175g Soft Unsalted Butter
Cake crumbs (chocolate preferably)  I had an odd end of cake left from another project, but a crumbed bourbon biscuit or even sprinkles mixed in would do, and look just as nice.

Method

PREHEAT your oven - 160degrees should do it!

Bake for 20 mins or until a sharp knife comes out clean after poking the cakes in the middle

While they are baking, make the icing.

First, put the butter, milk, vanilla and HALF of the icing sugar into a bowl and mix.  Then, add a drop more milk (about a tsp) and the rest of the icing sugar.

Next, get your crumbed cake/biscuit and sprinkle in.  Mix in until evenly spread through the icing.

When iced, admire your work and feel smug about how little time and effort it took to make something this awesome.

Sprinkle extra chocolate crumbs on top for effect.  Perfect!

Gift to neighbours and make a friend for life.  Share the love, people! 

You give a little love...yarn bomber

My yarn bomb note!

Today I was inspired.  I've recently started to dive into the world of Twitter after years of avoidance, and you know what?

The world is an amazing and fluid place, and when left to their own devices, people are thoughtful, kind, and most of all, just want to connect with others.  And Twitter showcases this brilliantly

And I am finding a wealth of other things people are up to to inspire and help each other out.  Of course I'm following all sorts of amazing people, but nothing sticks out for me more than a bit of spontaneity.

A wee tweet from @craftsonsea detailing her tiny yarn bomb that she decided to do, with a lovely wee motivational message attached really grabbed me.  Click on the link to see her really gorgeous yarn-bomb.

Kate's motivational message!

As someone of a creative and emotional disposition, it appealed; imagine wandering lost one day and coming across such a lovely wee message?  It might change your whole outlook! Or your day! Or even your life!

I decided to follow suit.

Grabbing a ball of yarn, I cut a bit off and attached a note to the end - Never, Never, Never Give Up.  Laminating it with my bestest sellotape attempts to protect the beautiful peacock paper (showy!), I stuffed it into my bag and hoped for an opportune moment throughout the day.

Taking inspiration from Kate at Crafts On Sea, I decided to go for the love-heart - after all, what better gift than love?

Everyone needs more love in their lives.  And until I get better at crochet or knitting, it'll have to do.

I found a space later on in the day at a car park.  I had Ethan in the car with me, so couldn't stray far.  In the middle of the car park, there's a huge hedge like a big, green canvas.  What better place for my bright red yarn-bomb of love?  I wove it delicately around the branches through my car window.

It was thrilling.  What if I was challenged/  What the hell was I going to tell them?  I was in one of those areas where old folk tell you off if your child looks at them funny, or if your skirt is above the lines of decency.  What would they say when I tried to explain that my threading and note-leaving was something I learned off the internets?

I drove off, smile on my lips.  It made me feel very happy inside. Hopefully it makes someone else smile too. 

Why not try it and let me know how you get on?

Imagine an army of us, all leaving messages of love for people to happen upon...

I'm a bit romantic like that.