December

December is a funny old month for us.

Alongside all the usual festivities we have a barrel load of family issues to deal with.

December is a month of birthdays (not just Jesus') and also marks the deaths of both my parents, so all the talk of family celebrations can really hit home.

I swing from Christmas love and festive cheer to a Scrooge like bitterness on a daily basis. Today as I listened to the radio I was suddenly gripped by a dreadful sense of envy as we listened to various celebrities telling us how they were dreading the trips back home to see their familes - for whatever comical reason, mum's cooking, dad's jokes etc etc and yet I was filled with a sense of sadness that we haven't got that family to go back to.

Of course we have Ed's family and they are amazing, but a Singapore Christmas just doesn't quite hit home for me (maybe that's my problem) and Ed would rather go home for Chinese New Year (which is completely understandable).

When we first adopted the boys we always said we would spend Christmas with my family and CNY with Ed's - so the boys had a sense of a cultural link with both families.

I wish the boys would have known my dad and they loved my mum, so at least they have memories - it was strange when we were Christmas shopping the other day, KC turned to me and said, 'The last time we were in this store was with Granny.' - the strangest things remind us.

We didn't tell KC that Granny died the day before his birthday - we saved the news until after, I don't know if that was a good idea - one day we will tell him the truth I guess.

So we go from anniversaries to birthdays.

KC has just turned 13 - and boy do we know it! He still hasn't got a school at the minute so I'm in the midst of battling the Local Authority to make sure he has a placement in the New Year - although that now seems unlikely as the council begin to break up for Christmas - honestly, our local authority seems to have more holidays than school!

But they now have placed a tutor with us and he is back in therapy - so we must count our blessings. Although sometimes I don't feel particulalrly blessed.

Still, TJ is doing well - he breaks up from school today and last night he went to his carol service - by himself - he was so proud of that! I had to stay home with KC, who is on self harm watch... more festive fun!

Next week marks the anniversary of my Dad's untimely death, he was only 53 and I am fast approaching the same age - as Papa keeps reminding me. I know he is only joking but it dos worry me. I'm now on a pre Christmas keep fit binge!(my goal is not to be asked to be Santa at next year's school fayre!!!!)

I do have incredibly fond memories of childhood Christmasses - big family events, parties with my cousins, all linked by grandparents, although they were inevitably organised by one of my industrious Aunts. We never had a house big enough to host everyone (or that was my Mum's excuse anyway).

Maybe I'm just over romanticising things - but I do worry that the boys won't have the same fond memories, just boring Christmasses at home with us.

I guess we have to create our own traditions.

Then we have the big day itself closely followed by my nephew's birthday on Boxing Day and TJ's birthday on the 28th - all before New Year kicks in.

It's Papa's bithday in January that marks the closure of the birth day/death anniversary mix up for us - and then we go into Chinese New Year - where we can hopefully, relax and enjoy a family event and the boys can enjoy being with their grandparents and Papa's family.

I want to focus on the positives, on the joys of Christmas but every now and then I have to stop and indulge in a little reminiscing, maybe as we get older that becomes the focus of this time of year.

I love Christmas but I dread December.

I miss my parents.

What Happens To Me When you Die?

"What happens to me when you die?"

That was KC's little gem of a question over breakfast this morning. I wasn't really prepared. I'm doing the Dryathalon for Cancer Research and am finding waking up in the mornings with a clear head quite unnerving (that was a joke by the way - before I get told off!...).

He carried on munching his toast. 

"What do you mean?" I asked him, "If I die, which I hope I won't, then Papa will look after you, won't he?"

"But what if he dies too - what if there's a really big car crash and the car explodes and you and Papa are both killed. What happens to me?"

I was a bit taken aback by the vivid description of our death and his seeming ability to be unfazed by it. I loved the fact that he wasn't at all upset by the thought of Papa and I being destroyed in a fireball but worried more about what happens to him afterward - and, I noted, there was no mention of his brother - just him.

But, I guess thats the joy of being ten - life is all about you. Mind you, I know quite a few adults who still think like that.

I looked over at TJ who was now staring intently at me over his bowl of cereal. I could see they were both waiting for an answer.

"Well," I began, "In the, hopefully, unlikely event that Papa and I should both be killed in a car accident then you will probably go and live with your Aunty and Uncle in Manchester (my sister) or with Aunty and Uncle in Singapore (Dylan's sister). And Granny would want you or even your Godparents, Fairy and Furry."

"So I don't have to go back into care then?" KC asked.

"No," I reassured him, "You have a family now - not just our family but a whole extended family that includes Grandparents and Aunties and Uncles and cousins and lots of people who would happily look after you should anything happen to Papa and me. No-one would see you go back into care. Ok?"

KC seemed happy with this answer and TJ went back to eating his cereal.

I don't know whre this sudden insecurity had come from. Perhpas it's a sign of his willingness to accept that this is a forever home and yet, at the same time, he questions what happens if the two people who offer the forever home disappear - as so many people have in his life. After all, most children don't even have to consider the difference between their 'home' and a 'forever home'.

"If you do die," TJ suddenly piped up, "I think I'll choose to go and live in Singapore - I don't support Manchester Untied so I won't live there."

I was about to tell him that I don't think he would actually get to choose and that I'm pretty sure there are more Man Utd fans in Singapore than there are in Manchester but decided against it and just nodded as the two boys weighed up the various pro's and cons of living with the various family members. 

Again, I noticed sadly, there was no remorse shown about our demise. 

I hope they at least come to the funeral.

Death by Attachment...

Today marked the Sprog's first day in his posh private school.

Sprog was very excited about today - but also obviously anxious, the usual pre-school sleepless night, for both him and me, followed by an early rise - when I got up he had already arranged his school uniform on his bed and was planning his breakfast. He wasn't sure if he would need his PE kit  - so he decided to take everything and bring home what wasn't needed. As TJ was off school today I was able to run him to his new school and will pick him up later - He can start taking the mini bus tomorrow, hopefully, he will then know some of the other children on it and they'll have a great trip into school.

TJ was also anxious. This time about being by himself. And he took it out on me!

We had a lovely morning playing games, making a cake and then we decided to take the dog for a walk and TJ took his bicycle. The bike is admittedly too small for him, but he won't let us change it - he refuses to ride anything bigger just yet - which turned out to be a blessing for me.

He was cycling away and the dog was wheezing beside me - I'm sure she is asthmatic and she has just celebrated her 9th birthday.

Suddenly I had to stop - as my youngest child pedalled full throttle directly at me and tried to run me over. He pulled away at the last minute, laughing maniacally. Then he turned round and did it again, this time running right into my right ankle - which hurt... a lot!

Think of Chuckie, the evil monster doll from the 80's movie Child's Play and you have the right picture. He saw that I was hurt and then ... tried to do it again. This time I grabbed the bike. "What are you doing?" I yelled. "I want to kill you!" came the reply.

I was stunned.

If you have ever seen the TV show Family Guy - I now knew exactly how the mother, Lois, must feel everytime her 'baby boy' Stewie tries to kill her (although admittedly its a lot funnier on tv - in a cartoon!)

Stewie obviously has attachment issues - as indeed does TJ. Attachment Theory is based on the idea that most mammals - like dogs - get attached to their parent or owner - they know where they are, they feel safe when they are around, they respond to boundaries and grow in a nurturing environment. This is also true of children - but especially for those who have had traumatic early starts and haven't been able to attach - firstly to their mother and then to the serious of foster carers and eventually the adoptive parents. There is a lot of talk in adoption about attachment and, I have to admit, I dismiss quite a bit of it as it can make sweeping generalisations....

But there is an obsession with death that is tied into attachment and boy does TJ have it - with TJ it focuses on super heroes and killing bad people - usually as gruesomely as possible - but that's understandable and come from a lack of self esteem and feeling powerless - as a super hero TJ can control his environment and stop all the bad things from happening to him. However, sometimes TJ aims his obsession at me - always at me. He wants me to die - he tells me daily and then tells me what items of mine he will have once I am dead. This is not said in a malicious way - just matter of fact.

But today was the first day he actually tried to kill me.

Despite the pain in my leg, I didn't get cross - I didn't shout - I think I was too stunned. I just said, "What would you do if I was dead?" "I'd be happy." he replied as he cycled off.

Now again I can think of a couple of reasons why this would be - the analysts would probably say that he is afraid to love us - so rather than risk loving us he wants to see push me away by telling me horrible things and as he gets closer to loving both Papa and I so he has to find more and more nasty ways to push us away.

The other part of me thinks he genuinely hates me - at least for today - because I have done the one thing that no-one, not his birth family, not social services, no-one has ever done... I have separated him from his brother and that terrifies him. He and the Sprog have been through everything together - Sprog parented him when his birth parents were unable, or incapable, The Sprog held his hand (metaphorically), as they went from foster carer to foster carer and was with him throughout his adoption journey to us.

Hopefully separate schools will hopefully help them grow as individuals and, although TJ will hate me for a while it should prove beneficial in the long run. I think the Sprog is grateful for the break - to have the resonsibilibty of looking after TJ removed from him.

So when we got home I asked him how he was going to cope if I was dead - I kept it practical, "Who will cook your food?" "I'll eat crisps," came the reply. "Who'll wash your clothes and clean up?" "I'll learn," he said.

I could see this was going nowhere so I decided I would simply no longer do anything for him.

"Can I have a drink?" he asked a little later.

"Get it yourself," I said.

"But I can't reach the cups."

"Not my problem - you don't need me remember?"

He thought about it then went and got his school water bottle and filled it from the sink.

Then he wanted lunch. But after having no joy from me he eventually took an apple from the fruit bowl.

Finally, he said, "Can we play a game now?"

"Why should I play with you?" I asked, "You don't like me - you wanted to kill me, remember?"

"Not really," he said softly. "I wouldn't do it really."

"OK, then" I said, "You say sorry and I'll make you a sandwich and we can play a game."

He looked at me and softly apologised before climbing into my lap and crying.

Since then we have had a lovely day - but I'm putting the kitchen knives way out of his reach!!!!!!!!!

Snow Day... and Memories

This weekend we finally got snow - lots of it... and boy were the children excited. They couldn't wait to get outside and use the sledges we bought them the last time it looked like it might snow - about 3 months ago. But they certainly made up for it yesterday! We were out in the bitter cold and blizzard like conditions for at least an hour. By the time we returned the boys were covered in snow from head to foot. TJ resembled a small snowman....

We had to come home in the end as KC was in floods of tears. The little monster had spent the whole afternoon throwing snowballs at anything that moved - and he has quite a throw. Well, he threw one at Papa who then did the unthinkable - he threw one back and it caught KC full in the face. Cue hysterical tears and an immediate need to go home. I tried to comfort him and explained that if you throw snowballs you have to expect to have them thrown back - that didn't go down too well and KC decided he hated us all, he hated snow and he hated being outside. Fine, I took him home and sat the Incredible Sulk in the kitchen to have a long chat about attitude - he is 8, where on earth has this sudden need to be rude to everyone come from - my little ginger angel is turning into a demon. I expected that at 14 or 15 but not yet....

Today school decided it would close due to the snow and Papa had to work from home because his bus service was cancelled. Apparently the main roads and railways are fine - we just cant get to them as the council decided not to grit the roads that feed onto the main ones - keeps the traffic down I guess.

So we are all at home - but Papa is actually trying to work - which can be tough when there are two bored children tearing around the house. (secretly, I'm pleased they are being such horrors - then Papa can see what I deal with every day!)

I persuaded them to come and choose Papa's birthday present online - hopefully with delivery in time - as they both refused to go shopping for a present. They now know about internet shopping and it has made them very lazy! So we went online and chose something and immediately after they wanted to go out and play in the snow. I think that the snow took precedence over the present as I simply had to show them something and they were shouting 'Yes, get that - that one,' I went to something else, 'Yes, that, that... can we go and play now!' I hope Papa enjoys his box set of 'Classic Car Crashes' - which TJ thought was an ideal gift. TJ did offer to give Papa one of his toys... 'not a good one though,' he added as an afterthought, anything to avoid going to the shops!

But present was duly chosen and purchased and I took the children and their sledges up the hill to give Papa some peace and quiet. Today, it was TJ's turn to turn on the tears. About 30minutes in and he decided that snow was too wet and too cold and could he go back home now. I love that we are raising such hardy young men eager to cope with whatever the world throws at them!

Please let them go back to school tomorrow. I am sure though that as it is a snow day that the school will happily hold a 'make-up' day in the Easter Holidays - I would hate for my children to miss out on their education.....

On a different note we lost my Aunt over the weekend. She fought a brave battle against cancer but finally went peacefully on Saturday night. I spent much of yesterday reminiscing with my Mum the great times we all had as children with my late father and cousins. I won't say much more as it is a family matter but she will be greatly missed and although we had drifted as I got older, we always exchanged birthday and Christmas cards and she was so welcoming when Papa and I got married and later when we adopted the boys sending cards and gifts.

However, one memory remains with me though - the night my father died, her younger brother. I was stuck in Singapore. I couldn't get a flight home as it was two days before Christmas and I had to wait at the airport for a seat to become available. My Aunt was the last person I called while I sat at that airport and she simply asked me if I was alone. By that time I was. She said, 'then I'll stay on the phone with you.' That was the first time I cried and as I sat there in an empty airport bawling my eyes out she simply stayed with me telling me to 'let it all out and that she wouldn't leave me.' I think I was on the phone with her for nearly an hour. I'll never forget it and we'll never forget her.