Positive Labelling...

Yet again, I begin a post by apologising for taking so long to write anything.

It's so easy to blame everyone else - but the truth is that things have been going so well recently that my fear is that I may appear to be gloating and, even worse, I may jinx myself and upset the equilibrium.

But here goes!

I'm going to focus today's post on our youngest son.

TJ has had such a difficult few months. Firstly he had his diagnosis for Foetal Alcohol Syndrome, which hit him really hard and this was followed by a full post adoption assessment (something which is available to all adopted children, but is rarely offered as its expensive - so adoptive parents, if you haven't been offered one, just ask, the authority can use the Adoption Support Fund to pay for it, so it shouldn't cost them anything.) Anyway, TJ had a full assessment which revealed the depth of his ASD (Autistic Spectrum Disorder) - obviously every child is unique and TJ's main area of concern was his ability to read social cues etc. We had always put it down to his unique way of looking at the world and potential Attachment Disorder - yes, he has that one as well. By the end of the assessment he had so many letters attributed to his many diagnosis that he started to look like a Countdown Conundrum. At first I was mortified. Yes, we had always expected these things, but to have someone sit down and explain everything to you is a very different matter. I then went away and read everything they recommended, another reason I haven't had a lot of time to write - I've been reading lots. And, the more I read, the more I kick myself, thinking how did we miss this?

Well, we missed it because we weren't looking for it or we didn't want to see it or maybe we knew but were in denial? So many possibilities.  Maybe we were simply avoiding the dreaded labels.

But the one thing labelling TJ's foibles has done, has been to open so many doors to him. Particularly with education.

He was accepted into a specialist school and, whilst to begin with we were concerned as to how he would fit in - it hasn't bothered him a bit. He loves it. He has even talked about his learning difficulties and how the school are helping him.

Yes, its very like a primary school in its outlook, but he is so less stressed. I haven't had a single day of school refusal - yet (touch wood). He is up every morning, with his uniform on and ready to go. He loves maths, science and forestry... I didn't even know forestry was a thing! He has made friends and has even been invited to a party. I can honestly say that he is a different little boy.

He still swears at me on a regular basis (I blame the FAS) and he still has his stubborn moments - like refusing to leave the house for my birthday dinner as he had a TV programme to watch and was already in his pyjamas. But these are little things that pale into comparison with what we were dealing with before and to be honest, I can sit back and laugh at them.

I can breathe again.

The house is so less stressful, Papa is calmer, I'm calmer and this boys actually seem to get on (most of the time)...

Tomorrow, I'll tell you all about KC.

Two positive posts in two days - how will you cope! :>

How can they forget Father's Day - They have 2 Dads!!!!!!!!!

It's not that I'm bitter, and it didn't really come as any surprise - but I've been dropping hints all week - so how could they forget?

But then again, maybe it's karma - the universe is taking revenge on me for all those times I would forget Father's Day, only to be met with a sad, knowing smile and a nod from my own dear, departed Dad.

I could explain it away by pointing out that maybe they needed to forget - perhaps the notion of any kind of parent is too much for them, after all they didn't ask to be adopted and adoption raises so many issues for children - are they really going to be staying forever? Will we eventually let them down? KC even informed me earlier in the week that he would be going to live with his best friend's parents as they liked him and would probably buy him the new bike he wants... I didn't fall for that one, after all there's nothing wrong with the bike he has.

I could hypothesise that they really don't want to be our kids - which is why they 'chose' to forget. They want us to reject them (actually, now that I've written that the rejection thing seems highly likely). After all, if we reject them that proves their own feelings of self rejection... they don't deserve to be loved.

TJ came and told me it was my fault he forgot Father's Day as I didn't take him shopping. Although I pointed to the new trainers on his feet and reminded him that we had only been in the local shopping centre three days ago buying him the trainers he wanted for sports day. (And he still didn't win - but third place is a respectable placing, so we can let that go.)

I used to tell my Dad that Father's Day was a Hallmark holiday - invented to sell more greetings cards and tatty gifts. My Dad used to nod and smile and tell me that one day i would be a Dad too - now I know how he felt.... sorry, Dad...

So after lunch both boys rushed upstairs and within 10 minutes we were presented with a couple of hastily written cards (well pieces of paper) and two unwanted cuddly toys wrapped in plastic bags... I can't even give them marks for trying... but I can nod and smile and remind them that one day, they will be fathers too..

But, until then, Father's Day may indeed be a Hallmark holiday - but it's still a good excuse to open the bottle of champagne we were given last month!

Cheers!

Happy Father's Day!!!!!!!!!

Poo, puppies and parenting...

When did my life become all about poo?

When we first adopted the boys, we knew there would be lots of challenges, but one that we thought we could avoid would be that of dirty nappies and poo... Of course, in their early days we had a couple of accidents and our youngest did end up back in pull up pants for a short while but apart from that, all was fine.. Poowise.

Then we got a puppy. I had forgotten how messy house training a pup is. Yesterday morning for the first time, puppy asked to go out. She ran outside and did her 'business' in the garden. I stood by her telling her what a good girl she was and rewarding her for pooing outside. She was so happy that she immediately ran back up to my bedroom and pooed again by the bed. She sat there waiting for me to praise her... She didn't get it that time.

Then later that day I needed to send out a couple of emails and do the online shop (I am never taking the boys supermarket shopping again, I usually end up buying loads of junk and spend most of my time apologising to whomever TJ has offended - he has learnt that if you put your hand up to your mouth and whisper how fat or ugly someone is then they can't hear you... Unfortunately, he hasn't mastered the art of whispering!)

Anyway, I popped both boys into the garden to 'play' and I pulled out the laptop.

I had two minutes...

Then the crying started. 

I decided to leave it. It sounded more like an 'I'm going to tell' cry than a major incident. But then I heard them talking... "You think I care if you tell him?", KC asked his brother, "What can they do? Ground me? They can't do anything else. So I'll just carry on hurting you."

I was actually stunned. This was my responsible older boy talking. Not only was he being frightful to his brother (who hasn't done that at some point?) but what stunned me was his dismissal of Papa and I as 'they'. It dawned on me that in his mind we weren't his parents, just those who look after him for now.

I was hurt.

Then I remembered his foster carer saying to me, "it will take them as many years with you as they have been in care for them to accept you as their parents." I poo-pooed it at the time (see what I did there?) But I think she was right. TJ was just 5 when he came to is, as he approaches 9 he does seem to accept that we are his parents and would never refer to us as 'they'. KC was 6... So we have a couple more years to wait."

I then heard a blood curdling scream. I rushed out and TJ was bawling. His face was covered in dark wet stuff. I looked at KC. "It's just mud," he said defensively.

"It's dog poo," screamed TJ, 'he put dog poo on my face!"

I sniffed the offending article. It was poo alright.

Now I was in a dilemma. What could I do to KC?  I told him to stay put while I cleaned up his brother.

As we left I turned to him and said, "I heard what you said young man," I was obviously channelling my  father here, 'and if grounding doesn't teach you a lesson then we will have to think of something else, won't we?" KC looked suitably stunned. Then I channeled my mother, "Just wait till your Papa gets home!" I said through gritted teeth. Poor Papa, after a long day at work being 'strict Edwardian father' probably isn't top of his 'to do' list.

As I cleaned TJ up he said, 'Daddy, my tummy hurts, I think I need a poo." I have learned that when his tummy hurts a poo is imminent... I learned that the hard way. I popped him on the toilet and went to deal with his brother.

After the usual chat about how wrong this was and how it made his brother feel and other similar nonsense I informed him that for the remainder of the week instead of watching tv for an hour in the afternoon with his brother he would be sitting with me and we would do times tables together. This time it was his turn to let out a blood curdling scream. Well at least something hit home!

I then had a call from the bathroom. 'Daddy, come and look at my poo... It's huge!'

He'll be asking me to put it on a Facebook next...

Deadlines and Aliens...

I stay at home, I write and I study... (and in between I do a bit of parenting)...

But this week all three of the above have managed to interfere with the fourth - or maybe the fourth has interfered with the other three - it depends on where my priorities lie at any given point in time.

I knew I had a difficult assignment to submit this week - I'm studying an Open University course in Psychology, although I'm sure most parents, particularly those with adopted offspring, are already at doctorate level in that area. But I left the first three days of this week completely clear - I was not going to blog, write, maybe a bit of studying - but that was it. Uniforms were washed and sorted out into piles, lunchboxes pre-prepared and dinners pre-planned - it was all going to be fine. But...

On Monday I was asked to write a piece for BAAF - something inspirational for LGBT Adoption week was my brief - happily I agreed to then be told they need it by Friday. Then I was asked by a magazine to write a short piece for them on being gay parents of mixed race with white children - thats not an easy thing to put together but again I agreed - deadline tonight - and, finally, my youngest son decided that last night was the time he would like to tell me that school are having an alien dress up day on Friday and, no I can't just put him in a fancy dress outfit and paint his face green - school have decided costumes must either be made or hired. (I'm guessing they have the press in - which makes no difference to TJ as we have media restrictions in place). He should have told me last week - but forgot.... great!

So I'm halfway through my assignment - which is all about statistical reports(!) I took psychology so I could legitimately be nosey and pry into other people's private lives - don't they know that! Not so that I would actually have to study things I have no interest in, like maths!

But I was diligent - I researched everything, I stayed up doing online tutorials I downloaded from You Tube - I wrote everything up. Then I got stuck. I needed help - fast. Last night I couldn't work out the final figures for the analysis - not just couldn't work out - couldn't even find... I went into a blind panic.

Then my dear partner suggested I actually open one of the tutorial slides that the online tutor had sent me to 'help' with the assignment and there it was - the exact formula I needed laid out in a step by step fashion, along with everything else I needed to complete the assignment - I really should read those things more often.

So this morning I completed it - I emailed in my assignment, and I am now working on the rest of the stuff, which no longer seems so daunting now I have the statistics out of the way, and then this evening we can get to work on the alien outfit.

Who knows this week might turn out to be quite fun after all - until the next assignment is due in of course!!!!!

'Weighty' Issues...

As any stay at home parent knows the issue of weight is an ongoing battle.

In my previous life as an actor I was constantly being told to 'lose weight, stay thin and remember this is a weight conscious environment in which you are working' - that nugget was passed out by my then agent - whom I still love dearly, even though the last time they saw me they just smiled and said, "I see married life suits you..." single person code for "You're really fat!"

Then I gave all that up to have the boys. I stayed at home - well I couldn't possible earn the kind of money Papa does - not as a struggling actor - but I could teach part time, do a psychology degree and start writing again. Brilliant. But all of these activities seem to be mainly sedentary and when you add in two children the weight just seemed to pile on - literally!

I thought having kids would make me thin - everyone said to me, "You'll be exhausted chasing those two around every day," and they were right - it was exhausting. But suddenly I was spending my entire afternoon, from 4pm onwards cooking. Firstly I cook the boy's dinner - and then usually eat a little something with them and often end up eating half their leftovers as well - I was brought up in a house where waste was a sin. My Mum had a board game of Snakes and Ladders - which was a moral version... I kid you not - if you were good and ate all your dinner you got to go up a ladder - if you were bad and wasteful it was down a demon snake. So it's ingrained in me that waste = bad!

After that Papa would come home and do the boys' bedtime routine whilst I make dinner for the two of us - usually whilst opening a bottle of wine - "Well," I convinced myself, "I need it because I've had a hard day running around after two boys."

Then Papa and I eat, more wine is consumed and we then take the bottle into the sitting room where we consume the remainder. Now, upon the consumption of more wine in front of 'proper' TV, (anything that doesn't involve cartoon animals without pants), the idea of a family bag of Doritos suddenly seems like a good one - followed by a small piece of chocolate, well maybe a bar... and a bit of a biscuit before bed.

In the two years since the boys came I managed to put on 10kg (around 20lbs) - I have no idea what that is in stones.... but it's a lot and nothing fitted me anymore. But that was okay because I was a Dad now and didn't need to be glamorous anymore, the thought of trousers with an elasticated waistband was quickly becoming an attractive proposition.

Then at Christmas my eldest said, "When you came into school today my friend asked me why you were so fat - and I said, 'my Dad might be fat but he gives great cuddles'."

I was distraught - Papa told me to focus on the positive - on the 'gives great cuddles' line - I couldn't... I just heard the 'f' word.... Eventually Papa's sympathy ran out and he just said, "Right for your birthday I'm buying you a gym membership."

I was a bit shocked by that but reluctantly agreed - well, I had asked for it.

Anyway, I decided to give up the booze in January - and signed up to the Cancer Reasearch Dryathalon. Which I did! Then I went to the gym and signed up with a trainer from hell - a small American lady who seems unable to talk in an 'indoor voice' (A term I use a lot with two small boys) - but she makes me run - one day I will get away from her but the damn treadmill keeps bringing me back! Personally, I think the reason she is so thin is because she spends her day exercising her vocal muscles at a pitch known only to Mariah Carey and some small dogs.

Then today, after nearly 6 weeks, I weighed myself.

Yes, I do the trick of moving the scales around the bathroom to find the tile upon which I am obviously lighter - but today I didn't need to.. Today the scales informed me that I have lost a total of 5kg!!!!

I am over the moon and will be wearing my best 'Dafydd the only gay in the village' pink rubber tube top and matching hot pants when I go and collect the boys from school later - then KC's friends can see just how much weight I've lost - although my son may never speak to me again let alone ask for cuddles!!!!

Telephones and Toilets

What it is with children and telephones?

Our youngest son, TJ, hates talking on the thing. To get him to chat to Granny takes an age and when he finally says something it usually takes two minutes and he is handing the phone back to me.

So yesterday, I popped into the littlest room in the house (not the kitchen cupboard) leaving TJ in the next room watching TV. I had no sooner sat down than the phone began to ring.

Great!

We have an answer phone so I thought it best to leave it and if it was important I could call them back.

But no.

Today was the day that TJ decided he would answer the phone. I heard the ringing stop abruptly and this little voice say, 'Hello - is that Granny?' - that shows how often anyone ever calls us on the landline.

It obviously wasn't Granny as the little man went on - "No, my Daddy isn't here - well, he is here, but he is on the toilet." (there are definately no secrets where kids are concerned.)

I now had to make the decision to either rush what I was doing or just leave it to TJ to sort it out. I opted for the latter.

TJ then went on to have a long conversation.

"No Daddy, could be a long time - he usually takes ages in the toilet - I can watch a whole Scooby Doo while he is in there." (What!!!!!!!!)

I was now hoping that this was someone trying to offer me a PPI insurance claim service or sell me a new kitchen.

TJ went on, "Papa says we can't go in there for ages after Daddy has been - Papa's poo smells of roses but Daddy's doesn't - thats what Papa says."

By now I was starting to laugh thinking of the poor PPI salesperson having to hear all this.

"I went in once after Daddy and I had to hold my nose - and I went it once after Papa and it didn't smell of roses to me. I don't have smelly poo but my big brother does."

There was then a silence and TJ said, "Ok, I'll tell him you will call back."

Definately a sales call I thought - if it was important they would have left a number.

So I finished what I was doing and took TJ over to collect his big brother from the school bus.

When I came back the phone rang again. I picked it up. "Hello," a lady said, "I called a few minutes ago and had a lovely chat with your son... this is Mrs Smith (our elder son's teacher) arranging next week's parent evening. Are you free to chat now?"

I could have died!

Next week is the Sprog's parent teacher evening and I will be meeting his new teachers for the first time... I am probably already the laughing stock of the staff room... Oh well - time it have a chat with the boys about telephone etiquette I guess.

Chessington!

We have Granny staying with us this week and for a treat she suggested that we take the kids to Chessington World of Adventures, a theme park on the other side of London.

I was a little nervous about the drive - especially after our experience at the weekend but decided that we would leave early and just take the risk!

So off we went.

As it was we needn't have worried - the motorways were completely clear and we made it there within an hour.

There was a queue at the theme park - but it wasnt horrendous and we were surprised at how relatively quiet the park was - the staff were all saying it was one of the quietest days they had seen this summer. I think people had gotten wind of our arrival and were obviously staying away.

The kids were excited - they were going to go on all the big rides and we raced in - they wanted to go to the Kobra first - I was worried TJ would be too small to go on a lot of the rides and he was but luckily as soon as he saw the roller coaster he decided it wasn't for him and he would rather go on the dodgem cars (or crazy Tuk Tuks - it was Wild Asia) instead. Granny said she would take Lea on the coaster - except she took one look at it and refused to go near it - apparently it wasn't the sort of roller coaster that she liked. But Granny and I wanted to do it - but couldn't leave the kids by themselves... and we weren't going to do it individually which would have taken hours of queuing!

That was pretty much the theme (did you see what I did there?) for the rest of the day... We would race to do a big ride and both kids would chicken out and we would do a small ride instead - which was actually the one they wanted to do... apparently.

Then we all agreed to go on the Mummy ride - a slow ride through a Mummy themed cavern where you zap baddies with lasers. The kids were excited and Lea was regaling TJ with stories of the zombies we would meet inside and the mummies that would attack us. Of course by the time we got to the front of the queue TJ was in floods of tears and screaming that he wanted to go home, he wanted to go to the toilet, he wanted to leave - anything except do the ride.

Great. I'm afraid after trying to calm him down and getting increasingly cross with Lea who kept reminding him about the killer death zombies inside - I pointed to a lady who was getting off with a toddler and said, 'Look at them - he's a baby and he's not crying!" I then added, "And we are not leaving now - not after queuing for nearly half an hour!" TJ thought about this and then said, "That man will stop the ride if I get too scared wont he?" I looked at the bemused, spotty teenager who was operating the ride - probably on his summer break from university. "Yes," I lied, "that's exactly what he will do - now just get in!"

Of course, TJ loved the ride and bounced out at the end talking about the mummies he had hit... He even turned to me and said, "That wasn't that bad..."

I wanted to kill him!

The next day I got up to find both kids pouring over the map of the park discussing the 'fright' merits of each ride and deciding that they were now brave enough to do all the rides at Chessington - so could we go again today... I told them to wait until Papa came home from New York and they could ask him to take them!

'Yay!' - they screamed, until TJ suddenly looked at me and said, "But Papa doesn't drive so how will we get there?"

I just looked back and grinned!

Papa is in for a treat when he gets back!

A Break from the Summer Break...

Today I decided I needed a break from the kids - and to be fair they probably needed a break from me too.

One of the problems with having friends to stay for a period of time is that once they have gone things suddenly seem very quiet and dull. So I agreed that the children could go to the school sports camp on Thursdays and Fridays each week.

We are so lucky that the school offers this service and at a reasonable rate - it really is a god send during the summer months.

Anyway, getting them out of bed this morning was no problem - they were up and ready to go by 7.30 - even though they weren't due in till around 9am. So I gave in and put the TV on for them whilst I went and got a shower.

We were then ready to leave - except now the kids were both glued to the TV and neither of them wanted to go anymore. So my original plan looked set to go out of the window. I thought about the day ahead - another hot day with two whinging kids and the TV on in the background... No!!!!!!!!!!

I put my foot down and turned off the TV - which elicited much despair from the children. They were not going anywhere - they hated sports - did I hate them - is that why I wanted to get rid of them? I had to think about that question for a minute...

Then we couldn't find our trainers or our baseball caps - apparently, they had been tidied away in our tidying frenzy last week and now we were running late... Then I had to apply the sunscreen - they loved that!!!!!!!

We eventually got out of the house, dragging a dog behind us. She obviously wanted to stay at home as well...

So we got to school a little later than planned and the two of them raced in laughing as they saw loads of their friends. As he left TJ turned to me and said, "Daddy, you look tired and sweaty - I think you should go home and have a shower!'

I smiled at him - thats exactly what I was going to do - to go home and enjoy the peace and quiet and maybe write a little except....

I had three loads of washing to do (apparently it will rain tomorrow), beds to change, a house that looked like it had been hit by a tornado as the children's rooms had been turned upside down in the hunt for hats. The kitchen was filthy and the dishwasher needed emptying and re-stacking and the bathrooms were disgusting!

At 11 I finally sat down with a coffee and decided to write the blog....

The day hasn't even started yet and I'm exhausted - at least the kids aren't back till 5!

Of Rabbits and War....

So the children were playing outside with their rabbit and guinea pig when the lady from next door pops her head over the fence to have a chat.

My first concern was that the kids footballing antics had upset her. Usually she is lovely but occasionally she can be upset, particularly after spending all day planting her borders only to have her pansies crushed by a 'booted' ball.

But today she was in a good mood, chatting with the boys about their football skills, their bikes and eventually their pets.

She chatted about how lovely the rabbit was, how well behaved and sweet, just like its owner Lea! (I stifled a laugh)

She told them how when she was a girl that she had three little bunnies and about how much she loved them and how she played with them everyday,even during the war when they kept her and her big sister company during the German bombings of the Blitz in her home in East London.

She told them how one by one her rabbits escaped and ran away and how heartbroken she was and how she sat cuddling the last bunny as bombs hit her street, just before she was evacuated.

The kids sat open mouthed as she talked... And to be honest, so did I.

Then came the clanger. After the war was over her sister explained to her that the bunnies hadn't run away, but that due to the shortage of food, each rabbit had been served to her for Sunday lunch. They had spaced the bunny slaughter out so she wouldn't notice and so that she still had something to comfort her during the bombing raids.

She told them how seeing their rabbit had brought back all those memories of her own bunnies.... To which Lea said, "You are not going to eat mine!" 

The lady laughed and said, "No, I've never eaten a rabbit since." To which TJ replied, "Well, you can eat my guinea pig if you want... Guinea pigs are rubbish!" And he then went back to kicking his ball.

But something must have sunk in as TJ today pulled out a copy of War Horse, the excellent book, and said, "Daddy, do you think that lady would like to read this and tell me more about the war?"

I think she probably would.

Sports Day

Its been a busy week. What with having our nephew to stay, helping out at school for a couple of days and then yesterday beeing Sports Day its been full on.

Mind you, its good to show Papa that being a stay at home, studying while trying to write a blog based book can be pretty frantic - I'm sure he thinks I sit at home all day watching daytime soaps and meeting friends for long lunches before collecting the boys from school for a fun trip to the sun kissed park chatting with the Mum's while the children frolic in the sand pit before returning for a leisurely tea in the nursery followed by a splash in the bath ready for Papa's arrival home so he can give them a quick kiss and tuck them in before sitting down to the lovely meal I am preparing for him. Then of course, I am happy in my relaxed and pleasure filled state, simnply grateful to be provided for and prepared to sit and listen to how hard his day at work has been, looking at spreadsheets, going to meetings in Madrid and sorting out his flight intinerary and business trips for the rest of the year - most of which seem to fall over the holiday periods... I am so blessed!

(The lack of punctuation is completely intentional as sometimes I don't have time to take a breath!)

Oh wait, that seems to be someone else's life. Mine consists of trying to keep TJ tidy - just long enough for him to get into school whilst ensuring he doesn't impale himself on yet anther 'stick' that he has found and wants to use as a javelin. Trying to squeeze my entire life into a five hour window whilst the little darlings are at school before they race home and in three minutes trash my tidy house, spill sticky juice over everything, fight with me over why they don't want to do their homework that evening before I run them to whatever club it is they are doing next. Then trying to ensure they have food that they like - which at the moment also doesn't seem to be enough as both kids could eat for their country - then have another do his dyselxia on line exercises whilst the younger one is in the bath - where I know he will succeed in soaking all four walls and using every towel that he can before reading to him the same story I have read for the past three months but of which he never seems to tire before getting the older one to bed in time for Papa to walk through the door. At this point Papa will moan about his long journey home and how he needs a shower before he can possibly read a bedtime story - and can't  I do it as he is tired. Then I will do it, then get TJ back into bed as by now he is on his third toilet trip in 30minutes and KC has just realised that he hasn't packed his 'show and tell' for the next day. Finally,  Papa will come down and give each child a quick kiss before telling them to go to sleep and coming down to ask what's for dinner... he has learned not to complain if its something he doesn't like and he no longer raises an eyebrow if I have a cheeky g and t. Although he nearly wore his dinner last night when as we sat down he said, "So have you written much today?"

That's my version of events....

Yesterday was Sports Day. This year I had to attend both the KS1 sports day, as TJ is now in Year 2 and the KS2 sports day, for the older children which includes KC. Parents were also invited to share a picnic lunch between the sporting events. So it was all shaped up to be a lovely stress free day.

Except, Papa had to work -  so, yet again, he missed out on their day. I do think thats a shame as both children are very sporty and it is nice for them to show something that they can do well - rather than be constantly reminded that they are not that academically gifted.

But not to worry - I would be there - although that didn't seem to really excite them - although TJ was looking forward to the picnic side of things.

Unfortunately, yesterday was also to be the highest pollen count of the year so far and within two minutes of stepping outside the door I could barely see through my streaming eyes, couldn't stop sneezing and was generally not much fun to have around.

Then I went to sit in a field...

TJ's day consists of lots of 'team' activities - a sports carousel where every child gets a chance to do something - there are no losers at our school. Which kind of makes cheering parents redundant - as the parents soon found out and ended up chatting amongst ourselves whilst the little darlings ran backwards and forwards sharing bean bags and filling little jugs with water.

Then came the competitive bit - the running races! The parents soon got involved in that - some more so than others...

TJ set off like the clappers - his legs going like little pistons. Now TJ has Noonan's syndrome which means he is much smaller than the rest of his peers but despite that he loves football and running and he is determined to be an Arsenal player so it is very important that he wins - at everything. At the last minute as he raced down the 100m track another boy passed him and TJ came in a worthy second. Which is amazing. Everyone chhered. Everyone except TJ, who took his baseball cap off and threw it at the teacher, he then stormed off in a hissy fit that would have had the best drama queens in awe - beleive me I have thrown a few in my time. I stormed out of a dance class whilst at college complete with hair flick and door slam and it wasn't until I was standing outside in the college car park in the middle of winter that I realised that at some point I would have to go back into the dance studio and collect my clothes, my choices were simple, to stand and freeze until class had finished then sneak back in and collect my stuff or to storm back in, grab my things and storm back out again. I decided on the latter, only this time my second storming out was met with huge laughter from my fellow classmates. So maybe TJ does take after me.

Anyway TJ's sulk went on for a good ten minutes - he stormed off the field, he stood in a bush shouting, he threw his hat back at the teacher when she tried to pass it back to him. He was on form. It was as I was hiding my head in the programme that I noticed that there would be extra points awarded for 'good sportsmanship' - I figured that they wouldn't take points away so TJ should be ok.

By now, my hayfever was unbearable. So I popped home to get some more hayfever medication and also to check that The Little Prince (our nephew) had finally arisen and gone up to London to meet his friends - if he hadn't at least I could get him up and get him to the station. I got back took extra medication and sat down for a few minutes. I think I must have dozed off as I missed the picnic lunch but later learned that Lea sat with her friend's mum whilst TJ ran around the field. I had sent the children in with their own packed lunch so I hadn't left them unfed (in case anyone was wondering).

I then pulled myself back up and returned to the school field for the second round of hayfever hell - known as sports day part 2!

Lea was already overly excited. As I walked onto the field she was busy running up and down the length of the field waving his arms madly - apparently this was part of her 'warm up' routine. I didn't question it as I was too busy sneezing. Her teacher came over and handed me a packet of tissues. That's how bad I was!

Again we were treated to a sports carousel - this time with added features such as bouncing a ball on a net and rolling a ball through a tube whilst running to the other end to catch it, well at least you were racing something, even if it was only a ball.

Then came their running races and Lea set off like a rat out of a trap. She was gone, easily in the lead, powering ahead as the crowd cheered him on. It was at this point that she stopped, seemingly to see where this cheering noise was coming from, although she later denied it, and two other girls raced past her, leaving her in third place. But she was happy. Lea is not really competitive - she was just pleased to be placed and to get a sticker.

We came home and TJ was happy again. Mainly because he placed second whilst his sister only placed third. This then resulted in an argument as to who had the tougher opponents and all was back to normal in the house again....

The Arsenal Cavalier

"I've got fleas - they're multiplying and I'm losing control...."

So sang Lea this morning whilst getting ready for school - I didn't want to correct her as she was showing me the dance she had made up to go along with her favourite song from the musical Grease. It consisted of her scratching under his arms and jumping around like a monkey. I thought it was fairly creative so let her get on with it (such a tomboy!). TJ was suitably impressed giving Lea an 8 out of 10 - believe me, anything above a 5 is good from that little critic! (I did get a 10 for fish fingers once - but that's another story!)

We are coming now to the half term break and both boys are getting excited. Today it is dress up day for TJ and, for once, I remembered. But I couldn't recall what the theme was, I knew it had something to do with their recent trip to Dover castle - TJ's favourite part of the trip was running up the stairs from the dungeons to the top - "What about the rest of the castle?" I asked him. "I don't remember that," he replied, "But I was a really fast runner up the stairs."So much for an educational day out - they could have just as easily taken him to a local high rise and asked him to run to the top and back again - he would have remembered just as much. Although, to be fair, I did get a picture of him from school today sitting on a throne dressed as a King, so he must have stopped running at some point.

Anyway, back to dressing up day. "Do you remember what the teacher said?" I asked TJ. As anyone with small children knows asking them to remember anything is like pulling teeth. "I think I can wear my Arsenal kit," came the reply. "really?" I asked, "Its a sports dress up day is it?"TJ thought just a few seconds too long before saying, "Yes, yes, it's a sports dress up day." Warning signals had gone off. A, he had paused to think and B, there was a mention of Arsenal. TJ has had his Arsenal and football privileges suspended for urinating over another child... when I say urinating he didn't just wee on the other boy's shoe or leg, no, my son sprayed the child from head to foot completely drenching him... the reason? TJ told the other child he wanted to wee on the floor and the other child said he would 'tell on' TJ if he did that - so TJ wee'd on him instead. Great. I was back in school and spent about 20 minutes apologising to the teachers, the boy and his Mum whilst glaring at TJ.

Needless to say this week TJ has been on a tight leash - literally! He has to earn back his football club and kit - and it does seem to have done the trick. Normal rewards and consequences (stickers or the naughty step) just don't work with TJ, so in a way I am secretly pleased that we have finally found something that he really cares about.

So the Arsenal kit was not an option. I quickly gave school a call, yes it was dress up day and the theme was 'Castles!' That made sense and we had bought TJ a Cavalier suit a little while ago. "Its too small." He cried as we tried it on, "And the hat's too big. Can't I wear my Arsenal kit.""They didn't have football kits in the old days, I said, "They wore stuff like this." "But I hate it!" he cried again. "This is supposed to be fun!!!" I yelled at him, "Now get dressed and have fun!"

"Can I take my sword then?" he asked once we had calmed down, "No, school said no swords." I replied. "How can I have fun without a sword!" he yelled at me... this was not going to be an easy morning.

Eventually, we all toddled off to school, TJ clutching his dressing up clothes for after lunch and Lea led the way practising her song to show her teacher. I hope the teacher likes the song and I pray that TJ keeps his clothes on....

IDAHO and School...

TJ has been coming home from school this week concerned that other children were telling him that being gay is a bad thing. He is fairly open about most things and was quite happy to tell me that other boys had said that there was a 'gay' toilet in school and that TJ must be gay because he used it (I've no idea where this toilet is - but school can be a funny place), he then went on to say that people use the term gay in a derogatory sense in school (obviously he didn't use those exact words) but he did tell me that certain friends say that things are 'gay' when they mean they are rubbish...'That's so gay... etc'. Obviously, this is quite a common use of the word in today's youth speak but for TJ, at this current time in his life, it has different connotations. As he is coming to terms with acknowledging that his Dad's are gay and that there are gay people in his world to suddenly hear negative views must be very confusing for him.

I remember a couple of years ago I was asked to speak to our local council about bullying in primary schools - they were obsessed with cyber bullying and how to tackle that. When I brought up homophobic bullying in schools I was simply told, "That doesn't really happen in primary schools - its just a bit of banter at that age." and the conversation was moved on...

Well, as more and more gay parents send their children to state schools then schools have to recognise that the 'harmless banter' is incredibly hurtful and confusing to many of our children, especially as they become more aware of differences in family life.

TJ has been telling his friends that the reason he doesn't have a mum is because she is in prison for doing a variety of horrid things, one of which is smoking. I know this because his little friends told me and at that age they are obsessed with families that are different - be it a same sex family or a single parent family. At this stage my main concern for TJ is that he has gone from being confident about his family to lying about his background - this may also explain some of his recent 'acting out' in school.

The Sprog is getting more aware - someone said to me that children shouldn't be learning about this type of thing at such an early age, but on the flip side it is also said that if a child is old enough to ask then they are old enough to be told the truth - all be it in a child friendly way. So it was back to the book 'Let's Talk About Where Babies Come From' which covers a great range of families and how they are created. (In the USA its called 'It's Amazing') an excellent book that he can understand and which I think TJ can be introduced to now.

Interestingly today is IDAHO (International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia) and this morning I used the opportunity to broach the subject of homophobia with the children - how it was not ok to discriminate against anyone. The Sprog said, 'You mean like when people say that being gay is bad?""that's right," I replied at which point, to my horror, TJ said, "Gay... eeeeurgh! Gay is horrid!"

Wow! I had to stop, the Sprog stared at TJ with his mouth open. "You can't say that," he said, Daddy and Papa are gay, that makes them sad."

"Are they?" TJ asked and he looked at me questioningly. "Yes, we are," I replied. "What's gay?" asked TJ. "It's where two men or two ladies love each other," the Sprog told him, "It also means happy." he added. "Oh," TJ said, "I thought being gay meant being dead." He wouldn't be drawn any further on the conversation but I wonder if other kids have said 'Your Dads are gay' and he has assumed they mean dead, which again could explain some of his recent behaviours. Of course, I may be over thinking it... (that happens a lot!). But one thing is certain, homophobia and homophobic comments start at a very early age - and it needs to be discussed openly and honestly at both home and at school - after all we wouldn't allow racism at home or in school and this is exactly the same.

I sat with both boys and we talked about TJ's Godfather, who is very involved with the Pink Dot movement in Singapore and I explained that unlike England, in Singapore it is still not allowed for two men to love each other. The Sprog looked horrified, "but then Uncle wont be able to find someone he loves and get married," he said. "Well, Uncle is in love but no, he can't get married in Singapore," I told him, The Sprog ran and got his pink dot cushion that Uncle had given him, "So this means that men should be able to love each other?" he asked. "Yes, that's right," I said. "Then why doesn't Uncle come to live with us? That way he can be happy with his love." The Sprog said.

I wanted to point out that the very reason that Papa and I had come back as because we wanted to have a family and as the laws changed in the UK so it seemed the right time, Papa then got offered a job and we came. I didn't add that in Singapore our four years together were not recognised so Papa nearly had his partnership visa revoked - luckily we had friends in the British High Commission who were able to help us get together all the correct documents but it did mean that Papa and I rushed our civil partnership through in 6 weeks in order to ensure his visa was correct. To be honest his work visa would have come through in time for him to start his new career but if he lost his job then he would have had to have gone back so it was better to get a partnership visa. Once full gay marriage is approved we will have a proper ceremony as so many of our friends and family missed out on our rushed Civil Ceremony. But back to the kitchen.....

TJ was listening intently to it all... "Let me get this straight," he said in his serious grown up voice, "Being gay means two men that love each other, two ladies that love each other or being happy?" "Pretty much," I said. "So is the Candyman gay?" he asked.

The Candyman had just come on the radio - as it does every Friday on Radio 2.

I was a bit stunned... "I don't think Sammy Davis Junior was gay,"I told him. "I meant its a happy song," he said disparagingly, "and you said that gay also means happy."

"Yes, yes, this is a very gay song," I said. The Sprog looked at me, "So are you saying its good or bad?" (obviously we had gone full circle back to gay being a derogatory term). "What do you think?" I asked him.

"Its a good thing!" he replied smiling. And the three of us danced around the kitchen to 'The Candyman" - How gay is that?

In the meantime I shall keep an eye on developments in school for both kidss... and I will definitely let TJ stay up for Eurovision this weekend!

The Napoleon Complex....

This seems to be something our youngest son is currently suffering from.

As regular readers will know TJ has a condition known as Noonan's syndrome - in his case it primarily effects his size, so although he is 7 he is roughly the size of a 4 year old - which means that he can get away with an awful lot. Being little and cute and having the ability to turn on the tears at the drop of a hat certainly has its advantages!

I have been called into the school three times this week - last week, you may recall, my youngest was holding his teachers to ransom - he would only do the test required if he was allowed to build a castle out of boxes afterwards. Well, we had a long chat with him about respecting teachers and that he didn't make rules in school etc. I also spoke to his therapist who pointed out that it was much more about control - that as our youngest was now becoming more settled so he was trying to control the areas of his life that he felt he could - most children tend to do this through food, refusing to eat etc, TJ does it through bargaining and getting people (parents as well) to coax him into doing what they want - usually by bargaining with him and eventually giving him precisely what he wanted in the first place.

Control is a big thing for many children, but for those who have come through the care system and who have suffered severe abuse it takes on a different aspect. In their birth families they had no control of the horrors that were going on around them and often happening to them, in the care system they had no control as to where they went, who they lived with or for how long, they were always ready to be moved on. So now TJ is more settled he is trying to exert his own form of control. Last year he did it through self harming and now that we have worked our way through that he is doing it through will power - or the Napoleon Complex as we have knick named it, the need for this little man to control all those around him.

So in order to ensure that both the teachers and we as parents are using the same techniques I went into school and had a chat with the teacher. We put into place a 'smiley' face scheme. The aim is to ensure that he gets a smiley face at the end of each day - providing he does this he can go to his beloved football club as usual. Any misdemeanours and there will be no football that week. It sounds harsh but as TJ also has the ability to disassociate and can completely cut himself off from the outside world, particularly if its something that he doesn't like (again this is a defence mechanism learned whilst with his birth family) However, recently he has made some progress and now the only thing that really matters to him is football - if you took away anything else he wouldn't care - and the usual discipline tactics very rarely have any effect on him, he doesn't want reward stickers, he switches off of you shout at him... all he cares about is playing football. So, rather than simply rewarding good behaviour we now have to put into place consequences for poor behaviour. Let's hope this has an effect.... although I have just been told that he will probably score quite low on his recent SATS tests... I'm not that concerned about the actual test itself, personally I think its ridiculous that 7 year olds have to undergo test conditions... I am concerned that he simply refused to do many of them, especially the ones he didn't like... He simply sat there and told the teachers that he wouldn't be doing it and that was that. He didn't relent at one point and tried to get the teacher to let him 'only do half the test', luckily the teacher was having none of that and hence I was called in. So consequences have to be metered out I'm afraid... great...

This then leads us onto the area of parenting that I hate - that of being the 'bad guy'. TJ has already told me that he is looking forward to my death in order that he can then 'do what he likes'. I was prepared to be told the usual kid things; "I hate you," "I wish you were dead" etc at some point... but to be told by your youngest son that he is looking forward to your demise in such a calm and calculated manner puts the fear of God in me... But I shall still have to go ahead and cancel football club for him for this week - I have to stand by the threat and carry it through - or I will simply be giving him back the control he so desperately wants.... sometimes parenting seems so cruel...

On a more positive note both boys were with me yesterday when our new mattress was delivered. The delivery man was joking with them and then said, 'Who is this mattress for, you boys or your Mummy and Daddy?" To which Lea quickly replied, "We don't have a Mummy we have two Dads, and we are very lucky." The man looked at me and said, "Well, that told me didn't it?" he then smiled and said, That's one very bright little girl you have there." The children then raced up the stairs to show the men where to put the mattress.....

So we must be doing something right....

I did it....

... yes, I did.

I now hold the dubious title of being the first to swear at the children... I'm not proud of the fact and I have been feeling guilty all morning. It didn't help when I called Papa to tell him of my terrible transgression and he laughed, "I thought it would be me who was the first to use an expletive," he said triumphantly, "I can't believe it was you! Well, that's your 'Dad of the Year' award out the window now!" and he howled at his own little joke...

What caused this dreadful misdemeanour?

Well, this morning was the standard Monday morning ready for school day. Except that over the weekend Papa and I had been putting up shelves and a bookcase as well as preparing the garden for a delivery of garden furniture today so our normal weekend routine had been thrown slightly. Usually on a Sunday I get everything ready for school - book bags, sports kits, shoes cleaned etc, on well prepared days I even get the packed lunches ready and in the fridge.

That didn't happen and it's a mistake I won't make again.

This morning we were suddenly in a major rush - TJ was shouting for his football boots, Lea was complaining that she didn't want cheese sandwiches, she wanted jam. "Ok',' I said, "I'll make you jam sandwiches!' So I got the jam out of the fridge (lovely Pear and Ginger - which Lea loved at the wedding, so I bought 4 jars!), Lea took one look at it and said, 'Not that jam, jam is supposed to be red not green." I was now trying to wash a dirty football boot in the sink whilst making a jam sandwich with apparently the wrong sort of jam - she didn't want lovely farm made jam that was her favourite until that very moment - no she wanted supermarket 'everyday' sugar filled rubbish. Well, tough, as I didn't have any.

TJ then decided that he wanted toast for breakfast - after I had already prepared the cereal he requested when he got up. Again, tough - they had to eat what was in front of them.

I got the lunches packed and ready and poured the children their juices, Lea likes only apple and TJ only likes red juice - it doesn't matter what type as long as it is red (Arsenal red!)

School uniforms next. I raced upstairs and sorted out the school uniforms before collecting book bags and homework.

The kids were screaming at each other - I have no idea what the squabble was about - jam probably, but by now my head was beginning to pound and I need a coffee. I don't allow myself coffee until after the kids have gone to school and I can sit down. I was getting more and more agitated as for the third time I told the kids to sit down and eat properly.

Then the phone wrang, it was the school. TJ is to be called before the headteacher today - for refusing to sit his test paper. Thats a blog in itself so I'll do that later... its a good one! Anyway, the school told me that I wouldn't need to come in they would deal with my youngest themselves.

TJ heard this and said to Lea, "That's good news, Daddy doesn't have to come in," TJ now thinks he has got away with his behaviour - just you wait young man!

Anyway, the upshot was that in this frenzy TJ gave Lea a push, Lea knocked her apple juice all over the floor that I had just mopped yesterday evening, time froze and I just erupted... "What the f***!" I shouted... Lea burst into tears and went to her room while TJ sat there with his mouth open revealing the cornflakes that were waiting to be chewed. I stood there feeling incredibly guilty - so I covered it up as all parents do when they feel they are in the wrong... I shouted louder and made sure the kids knew that my losing my temper was in fact their fault. They went to their rooms and got changed - although I knew they were discussing my transgression (or maybe that was my paranoia).

So we went off to school and to be honest as soon as we got near the gate the children saw their friends, gave me a quick kiss goodbye, and rushed off to get on with their school life. Hopefully they won't remember the events of this morning by lunchtime... hopefully...

Discipline - part 2!

Aaaaargh!!!!!!!

I hate holidays!

Well, that's not entirely true. I love beaches and nice hotels and good looking staff who come and spritz your face with evian while getting you your favourite tipple and the only problem is what to order for dinner  - those sorts of holidays I love.. school holidays spent at home are a nightmare - especially after the first week or so!

Today it is TJ's turn to require the firm hand.

To be honest, he has been lovely all morning. Lea had a drama workshop for three days and whilst Lea is out TJ tends to be a lovely angel of a child - today he did all his homework (yes, at 7 he gets Easter homework, Mr Gove would be happy) and learned his 2, 5 and 10 times tables - he even asked me to test him. As a reward he got to play on the wii for an hour.

There was an ulterior motive on my part, as TJ played quietly in the play room I could get on with writing the speech I am giving at my sister's wedding next week. But all was ok. I wrote the first draft, TJ had fun and then we went and collected Lea from her drama group before coming home for lunch and then taking the dog for a walk along the river... all good... until we came back and I went into the playroom to discover that whilst playing his game TJ had also been quietly unravelling the rug.... bits of wool were everywhere...

He is younger than Lea and has his own learning difficulties, so I do tend to be a little more patient with him. 'What happened here?' I asked him...

He was silent... I looked in the doorway where Lea was eagerly waiting to see her brother get punished (don't you just love sibling rivalry). 'Go and find something to do,' I told her. "I'm ok watching." came the smart Alec reply. I put on my stern voice, 'Now!' I said and off she dutifully went. Although I knew she was listening around the corner.

Turning back to TJ I said, 'Ok, tell me what happened here....'

And now the fun begins. Story after story came out of the little mouth. 'It did it all by itself when we went for a walk." 'I think one of the DVD's got caught in it." "It got a bit unpicked and then fell apart - it is old."

I listened patiently and then became all Captain Von Trapp with the strawberries that turned blue... 'Maybe, ' I said, "Maybe, you were sitting there doing nothing at all when suddenly the rug started to unravel and the dog came in and she started to pull at the string and then the dog saw the fun game on the TV and got excited and pulled even more...and my rug then fell apart?"

I could see TJ's brain processing this. "Yes,' he finally said, "Yes, I think that is what happened."

'Well, in that case," I replied, now fully in role, "We had better stop playing exciting computer games in case you or the dog get over excited again. I think now we should only do quiet things in the playroom like reading or stamp collecting." (I don't know where the latter came from.)

TJ immediately started to cry - practically on cue and much more realistic than snotty little Gretle in the movie. 'Ok,' I said calmly, 'You have 10 seconds to tell me the truth or you will be in big trouble."

To be honest its an old rug and I'm not overly concerned but the point is that I was being blatantly lied to. Unfortunately the lies continued, 'The corner of the rug came undone by itself." 'Perhaps my guinea pig got out" and my personal favourite, 'Maybe we have a ghost."

So now TJ is sitting behind me on the bed having a 'time in' whilst I write my blog and he thinks about what he has done... What child ever truly 'thinks about what they have done'?

...

But now I have finally had the truth out of him. 'Yes, I did it Daddy,' he said, 'I just started to pull and then it just kept on coming and splitting up.'

'Thank you for telling me the truth, now what should your consequence be - as well as no more ii for the rest of today?" I then went onto explain that his consequence was actually for the lying, the no wii is for the rug... He thought about it, "I think I shall help with dinner and help you wash up." he said. Their therapist would be thrilled - they are suggesting their own reparation, where they have to do something good to make up for the damage they have done.

Of course, he may just be playing the game in order to watch Spiderman on tv - but to be honest I don't care - I think its a step in the right direction.....

Easter Holidays and Illness Do Not Mix....

I have a cold...
TJ has a cold..
And as of this morning, Lea has a cold as well. We are up to our ears (and noses) in snot!

Unfortunately TJ has had the cold for the entire week - and being asthmatic it tends to go straight to his chest which means he spends much of the night lying awake and coughing - and if TJ is awake then so are we!

Papa has been great this weekend though - he looked after TJ for most of the night on Saturday evening and on Sunday morning he sent me back to bed whilst he got on with being the parent in charge. I even got a coffee in bed although I was summonsed to prepare lunch - which is a good job otherwise our Sunday roast would probably have been take out pizza... I am not a fan of giving the children junk food, although it would probably have been a popular choice as there would have been little or no chance of brussels sprouts appearing on the plate.

But this morning Papa had to return to work as normal - although I imagine he was glad of the rest. However, Lea decided to fill Papa's shoes and bring me a cup of tea. It was very sweet of her but then I remembered that she is not allowed to use the kettle, so I prepared to get angry with her. 'It's ok, Daddy,' she said, pre-empting my rage,' I didn't use the kettle I just waited until the tap got really hot and used that water.' I smiled benevolently and sipped the lukewarm dishwater masquerading as tea... 'delicious,' I smiled as I sipped the tepid pale brew. She stood smiling at me watching me drink it for what seemed like an eternity before she left the room and I could tip it away.

The holiday is now dragging - the British weather doesn't help. We went for a walk - just to get out of the house and TJ had barely taken four steps before declaring that it was too cold to be outside and that we should get our exercise courtesy of the wii in the comfort of the playroom. TJ loves the wii... especially the football games.. although he has to win and if he doesn't then tears follow - we have a box of tissues on standby ned to the console just in case.

Oh well, I am killing time while parenting the best way I can when I am under the weather. One child is in front of the TV the other is on the... yes, you've guessed it... the wii!

Easter in School

Both kids attend a lovely local church school and yesterday was a day of Easter activities, including a drama activities surrounding the Easter story. Being a little dramatic in nature the school asked me if I was able to help out and assist the school curate's wife - who was running the creative side of things.

It was great that so many people from outside the school were involved and the place was buzzing with activity.

Anyway, I was charged with leading the groups of children through four of the stations of the cross, the Garden of Gethsemane, Calvary, the tomb and finally to the steps outside the infants toilet to sing 'Lord of The Dance' in honour of the Resurrection. It was all very sweet - if a little dark and really really cold. The little ones were all given a paper cross to carry and then take home, of course as soon as they were given them all the little boys started 'sword fighting' - which made me smile. Then as my group moved on we were followed by another group led by other volunteers - which included Lea. We went to Calvary and three children were picked to be Jesus and the thieves - TJ was very upset that he wasn't chosen. He told me later that he had expected to be picked as I was helping and he would have made a very good thief. I pointed out that I don't encourage nepotism, I think he took that on board.... well, he scowled at me anyway.

Then we moved on and I heard Lea's group making a noise behind us and turned round to see the teacher leading that group telling Lea that it wasn't appropriate for him to be the 'one who nails Jesus up" in the play. And sure enough there was Lea pretending to hammer the nails into the boy playing Jesus's palms... I hurried on and we finished with our rounding rendition of Lord of the Dance and of course no-one noticed TJ and his friends shouting out 'Settee' instead of 'said he'....

After all the excitement we rushed off to pick up TJ's keyboard. He has started piano lessons, although he is a little miffed that after his first lesson he is still not able to play a discernible tune!!!! But he seems pretty keen. We bought him an electronic keyboard with a microphone... which was a big mistake as whilst TJ hammers out his middle c (the only note he knows) Lea uses the microphone to practise 'beatboxing'.

This morning both boys were really sweet - it's the last day of term before the Easter break and chocolate is at risk if they are naughty - Lea looked at me and said 'Daddy, you have definitely lost weight. I can put my arms all the way round you now and I couldn't before.' - she beamed as she gave me this weird compliment. As I turned away though I heard TJ whisper to his sister, 'I think you have probably grown and your arms have just got longer.' I pretended not to hear that....

Off to Granny's tonight for the Easter weekend... let's see how that goes!

Wine and Beer

Today it is freezing cold - for all those of you living in warmer climates do please spare a thought for us Brits who are experiencing minus 5 degree weather at the end of March - its crazy! As I type the wind is whistling around the house.

Needless to say the kids are not too impressed, particularly as we have had no significant snow and they still have to go to school. TJ is constantly whinging about how cold it is... TJ doesn't 'do' the cold. But in Singapore he spent most of the time asking why it was so hot... He is very British, talks incessantly about the weather and hates foreign food! (unless its German sausages of course!)

Last night we were able to celebrate a small victory in out fight for adoption support. Yes, the council agreed to backdate our adoption allowances and pay the legal fees, although as the Ombudsman pointed out, this is what we are entitled too - they still have to agree compensation etc. But, it was a small victory. Until Papa took all the money out of my account and used it to pay off some of the massive debt I managed to incur since I stopped working... apparently I will 'spend it if its in my account!'... to be fair, I probably would!

Anyhow, we opened a lovely bottle of wine to celebrate - which I drank most of. I'm on a diet at the moment and wine is off limits - so I indulged... well, over indulged really. This morning getting up was pretty tough. We rushed out the door and TJ had forgotten his football kit - naturally. 'Let's go back and get it!", I snapped at the little lad on the way to school. Then I heard Lea turn to her brother and say, 'I think Daddy had too much beer last night, he is over hung." I then had to point out to Lea that I don't drink beer, except when its hot and sunny - which it certainly is not at the moment! But it does show how much Lea recalls - her birth family were all alcoholics and I would imagine that wine wasn't their preferred tipple.

Then I returned home to find the man had come to repair all the french windows - which have been leaking since we moved in... 6 months ago!!!!!!  Of course, this involve having all the doors in the entire house pen - so now it is minus 5 inside as well as out!!!!!! He laughed as he said, 'When we booked this in we thought it would be sunny - good job I've got my thermals on!" - I haven't got any thermals as I don't usually leave the house when its freezing!!!!!

Christmas Play Aftermath

Last night I watched KC in his Christmas Performance. TJ actually sat enthralled all the way through and his only comments were positive ones. As many of you will remember from KC's summer performance TJ took great delight in critiquing each performance as it happened - much to the 'delight' of the parents around us. He was a pretty harsh critic that time. But I think after his own performance he now knows how much work the children put into their little show. KC was the Ginger Elf - who was a naughty elf and hid in Santa's sleigh (I was paying attention) - then he fell out of the sleigh into a child's home and had to be rescued by the Christmas Fairy. It may not have been Merchant Ivory but TJ loved it. He also loved that KC's elf hat had 'Kiss Me' written on it. KC's other 'skit' was a retelling of the Willy Wonka story - but with only four children. She was Mike Teevee - again typecasting!  That 'skit' wasnt as successful as some of the children forgot their lines - luckily KC remembered them all and even said lines that weren't his - I am sure the other kids were grateful! One of the other performers thanked KC for the intervention. The child playing Augustus Gloop left a Pinter pause long enough to drive a bus through and KC simply said his line for him. 'I know what my line is,' the boy said , 'I was just acting.' This caused a ripple of amusement from the audience. TJ looked on approvingly, 'KC knows everything,' he whispered in my ear.

After the performance the impossibly cheerful drama teacher held a raffle - that cost me a fiver and we didn't win anything! Then she laid on a huge spread of cakes, sweets, chocolate and squash for the kids. Needless to say by the time I prised TJ away from the cake stand - still clutching a piece of swiss roll - both boys were fully loaded with enough sugar to keep them buzzing the entire night. They were fighting in the back of the car when suddenly they stopped. KC said 'Daddy, why are you being so quiet?' I looked in the mirror, 'Because I dont have the energy to shout at you both.' I replied. 'Oh,' said KC, 'Should I be setting a better example for TJ?' 'That would be nice,' I said - now realising that my parenting skills were second to none. So KC sat quietly for at least two minutes - then TJ kicked him in the shin and all hell broke loose again. But it was nice while it lasted. I did what all parents do in this situation. I turned the radio up and drove home as quickly as I could before sending them to bed!

I sat down and watched the TV with my pizza and a glass of red wine. Waiting for Papa... He finally rolled in at around 2am. It must have been a good night. He had to take a female colleague home. That can't have been easy as apparently when they got to the address she gave the taxi driver she woke up, looked around and said, 'I don't live here,' and then slipped back into a drunken slumber leaving Papa to work out where she actually did live. Luckily, he was in just as bad a state so he didnt care about it and found the whole thing hilariously funny... I'm afraid I may not have been the most appreciative of audiences as he woke me up in order to share his experience at 2am!

I did enjoy watching him crash around the bedroom at 6am though trying to get ready for work... I offered to turn the lights on for him, but apparently he is used to getting dressed in the dark and didn't want any lights - just a glass of water!