Getting Ready for Winter...

Yes it seems to be that time of year again and Lea was very concerned about what we were going to do about her rabbit, Ginger, now the weather is getting colder.

Papa has decided that neither Ginger, nor TJ's guinea pig, are to go back into the garage as last time they escaped and destroyed most of his nicely stacked cardboard boxes and led us to believe we had rats.

Now the garage is cleared out and paper boxes have been replaced with nice see through plastic ones, so we can clearly see the stuff we have never used for years and which Papa still refuses to either throw away or give to charity.

So we decided the pets were to stay in the garden and therefore we went up to the local pet shop to look for covers to go over the hutches and keep the little rodents warm.

Papa took one look at the prices and decided the animals could freeze to death!

This provoked much hysteria from the children so he decided that he could make the covers much more cheaply from a piece of tarpaulin. So our next stop was the local DIY superstore where we found a huge piece of waterproof tarpaulin which was quickly purchased and brought home ready for the transformation into a hutch cover - it was like living our own episdoe of the kids TV programme Blue Peter!

Papa and the children measured the hutches and soon set down to work cutting and sticking and velcroing bits together. I say children but within abot 10 minutes TJ was bored and had sneaked upstairs to play on the wii and Lea had managed to 'pop to her room' for a minute and was never seen again. I later found her on her bed listening to Michael Jackson cd's (CD's that had been 'borrowed' from my collecion I hasten to add!)

So Papa was left cutting and sticking and swearing (well, the kids weren't around so he could) while I washed and ironed all of Lea's clothes - this fancy private school requires PE kits to be washed and ironed every week! Not like TJ's state school where the kit comes home at the end of the term and practically walks into the washing machine by itself!

So Papa and I go on with everything. I cleaned shoes, made lunches, baked a cake and some muffins (I really am Martha Stewart) Papa placed the new hutch ocvers over the animals homes with the satisfied cry of "£25 - thats all it cost £25, stick that major pet store!" He was very pleased.

"Kids', I shouted up the stairs, "Come and see the brilliant hutch covers that Papa has made!"

Needless to say they didn't come and later that evening I found all my beautifully ironed PE kit simply shoved into Lea's sports bag... great!

So Sunday, being the day of rest, saw Papa and I at our busiest whilst the chidlren enjoyed their much needed relaxation... Just wait until next week!

Surprise, Surprise!

This post isn't about the plethora of old TV shows that ITV seem to be reviving to save their Saturday Night TV slots (Surprise Surprise, Through the Keyhole, Family Fortunes - its like 1989 all over again!!!!!!)

This post is about secrets and my eldest daughter's inability to keep them and my youngest's way of dealing with interrogation!

TJ's best friend's birthday is on the same day as mine - no problems there, TJ was invited to his friends party, which was in the afternoon and I then planned an evening dinner out for all the family.

However, Papa found out and told me that I would have to let the best friend's mum know that TJ couldn't go as he had planned a 'surprise' day trip... But he wouldn't tell me anymore...

Obviously, TJ was very upset by missing his best friend's party so Papa agreed to let him in on the secret... He was very careful not to let Lea know too much as she simply cannot resist telling everybody everything - this was noticable when we went out anywhere over the summer - I'm not sure that the lady on the ticketing counter at Chessington was really enthralled by her retelling of her entire life history - I think she may actually have been traumatised and was in need of counselling by the time he had finished. She looked visibly shaken as Lea took the ticket, gave her a grin and skipped off.

So, this morning, once Lea was on the bus to school I turned my attention to TJ and grilled him over his toast - I gave him double chocolate on toast - just to ease the vocal wheels.

"What's going on for my birthday?' I asked.
"I can't tell you," TJ replied, "But we are going to your favourite place!"
"Are we?" I was intrigued. "I wonder where that place is?"
"Its somewhere you love going!"
"Is it?" By now I as getting a bit excited.
"Yup."

He then clammed up.

"Would you like more juice?" I asked sweetly pouring him his favourite grape juice.

"Yes please," he replied politely... I sat watching him and smiling...

"Ok, I'll tell you." he said, then added, "but I want chips for dinner."

"Alright," I gave in. My curiosity was too much...

"We're going to..." He paused as if he was hosting a reality TV show...
"We're going to.... Sainsburys!"

He then fell off his chair laughing "Because that's your favourite place!!!!!"

I laughed with him.... but if he thinks he is having chips tonight he has another think coming!

Homework Blues

Both kids came back with homework tonight and I suddenly realised how difficult it is to juggle two set of homework.

TJ had reading and the Sprog had maths. 

Luckily, Sprog is now at one of those 'traditional' schools where I can understand how they work out the answers, which helps when it comes to homework.

He had 20 questions to do and we did the first 10 together. Once he was sure how the equation worked I moved onto reading with TJ. 'Are you sure you are ok?' I asked the Sprog. "I know what I'm doing," came the reply, " you go and help TJ."

Such a lovely child....

So I read with TJ and then went back to Sprog to find he had finished all the questions. I was so proud I could have cried. 

Then I noticed he had missed a question. "You had better do that one," I said. 

"You go and check on TJ while I do it," came the reply...

Alarm bells went off...

"Don't worry," I said, " why don't you show me how you do it."

"Erm...." 

"Go on..."

Suddenly there were tears. " I am too tired," he cried, "too tired!"I decided not to argue and let it go...

It was later that evening that I looked under the sofa and there hidden away sat a small calculator... 

Defiance!!!!!!!

Aaaaaargh!

What a way to start a new week.

TJ has gone back to absolutely defying me in every aspect. I just can't seem to get anything right.

He went to school today and was fine this morning but since he has come home he has been a nightmare.

Even walking back he was angry. He didn't care if it was raining, he didn't care his coat wasn't done up. His hands were cold - which was obviously my fault. He got home soaked and then stood in the doorway and blamed me for his being wet through.

I took him upstairs to change - but he refused to undo his shirt buttons. I had to do them as his shirt was too wet and his hands were too cold.

Thne he threw his lunchbox at me, followed by his schoolbag.

I picked up his tie from the floor. The same tie that Lea had used last year but now it had been ripped apart - completely destroyed.

"How did this happen?' I demanded. I was met with the infuriatingly annoying 'shrug of the shoulders'.

"I want to know how this happened!" I was getting angry but trying to remain patient.

"I was someone in after school club," came the reply.

"You haven't been to after school club! You are at home!" I think even the logic of this had escaped him.

"Then it happened when I took it off.'

"How, how can simply taking off your tie rip it up?" I was trying my best to stay calm.

"I don't know - its just a rubbish tie."

I know the adoption counsellors are screaming 'attachment' at me and telling me he is angry with himself and I know that he wants me to shout at him, that he wants me to get so angry I could spank him (I don't) but he seems to want to push me there at the moment. I also know that for him this will vindicate everything he knows about 'parents' - they get cross and are mean to their children - and at the same time this will re-inforce his own low self esteem and feelings that he is only worthy to be shouted at.

I know all that - so why do I still want to put him over my knee? After all it didn't do me any harm... or did it? I guess the jury is out.

So I have sent him to practise his piano, then we will do his reading... but there will be no TV or computer games and if we can't mend his tie then he will be buying a new one tomorrow with his pocket money.

Perhaps if he keeps getting into trouble I can keep sending him into his room with only his piano for company. In years to come he will be on TV after starring in the Last Night of The Proms - bemoaning his awful parents who made him practise whenever he was naughty... and how the only good thing that came out of his life was his piano playing career. (I watched the Liberace movie the other week - the parallels are there!)

Mind you, on Saturday instead of watching 'X Factor' TJ actually did want to watch the Proms and sat through it all asking what the different instruments were and who was playing what - that was quite something to watch and I thought we had bonded a bit... oh well...

So he is playing waltz on his keyboard and the logical 'consequences' side of my brain have been satisfied... but the emotional 'angry' side of my brain also needs placating.... so rather than 'getting the strap out (as my Dad often threatened but never did) I have made a cup of tea and am telling you!

This isnt a blog - its therapy!!!!!!!!

Food, Glorious, Food?

This morning opened ominously...

It began like this... Papa turned over in bed and said, "you won't be offended if I say something, will you?"

As soon as your partner says that you know you are going to be massively upset... 

"Go on," I replied.

"Promise you won't get offended."

"Just say it!" I said.

"Ok, but erm... Are you planning on losing weight?" 

I was now bloody offended... But couldn't show it... 

"Of course I am," I replied... And then rolled over to begin my morning filled with self loathing and bitterness about the young beautiful me that no longer existed... It was enough to make me reach for a bacon roll... I didn't, I made a full English breakfast instead... 

This obsession with food all began with Nigel Slater and his daily tv show about cooking with whatever is left in your fridge... By Friday he was showing us the delicious baguette stuffed with left over lamb and almonds and whatever fancy stuff he had in his well stocked fridge. I kind of lost it with the tv... And when Papa came in from work it was to see me standing with the fridge door open shouting, 'look at my fridge! Show me what bloody delicacy you can make from that..." I was revealing to Nigel the entire contents of our fridge which consisted of a half eaten tub of Philadelphia cheese (with chives) and a bottle of wine.

Obviously Nigel Slater doesn't live with two small gannets, I mean children, who simply vacuum everything that isolated in front of them!

So Papa ordered a take away while I opened the wine. I always think fish and chips should be washed down with a good Sauvignon...

Yesterday was The Saturday Supermarket run... And I was going to stock up my fridge fully for the entire week, just as Nigel suggests.... It was a lot of fun planning meals for the entire week and shopping fully prepared, without running the risk of throwing stuff into the trolley just because the kids 'absolutely need it' or its their 'favourite!'

How the hell did you spend £200!" Said Papa at the till... Mind you he was clutching a Superman dress up outfit and a computer game... Never take children shopping on a Saturday with an easily swayed Papa... "It's the cost of food," I told him, ignoring his extra purchases...

Obviously, it's all my fault....  I am eating too much and spending too much money... So the idea of my diet will serve two functions... A thinner, less angry me and a reduced food bill.... 

Until then I shall practice my "of course I'm not offended' face..... 

That movie... you know the one... It has Sandra Bullock in it... no not Speed or Speed 2!

Wierdly, I have actually finished my manuscript - or the first draft anyway of my book based on the blog.

I seem to have been working on it forever and by yesterday I was so sick of editing it that I was beginning to hate it.

Which is when Papa said, 'Right, that's it, tomorrow I'm posting it to your agent!"

He has just called me to tell me its now gone.

I can't change anymore at this point. Its kind of liberating but now I want to do something else.

So I went shopping to take my mind off it.

It didn't.

I spent the whole time wondering if anyone would like it - had I written too much or too little. Had I added in enough new material or relied too much on material thats here already...

Only time will tell.

Although today was an interesting day.

I now know how Sandra Bullock felt in that film where she loses her identity (I can't remember what it was called). I took my car in for a service today to be told they had no paperwork or record of my booking it in - I know I did - then they said they had no courtesy car for me! I was about to kick up a stink as I had places to go (shopping being one), but they hurriedly found me a powder blue VW Beetle - I think it might have been the receptionist's own car as it was full of hair grips and sweet wrappers.

Then I toddled off to Bluewater to the Apple store where I had booked in for someone to have a look at my iphone as the camera wasnt working it is now - I fixed it! By turning it off and on again) But once there I was told that they had no record of my appointment....

So I went and had an anonymous coffee... and with both kids out until way after 5 I was happy to enjoy the peace and quiet of a packed shopping centre and just watch the world go by...

Now how long will it take my agent to read my book and call me to tell me what he thinks!!!!!!

Back to School

Yes, the little darlings are finally back at school.

Only this time they are taking part in our social experiment. One going to an independant secondary school and one staying at the local primary.

However, this means that the school run, which used to be a 5 minute walk across the road now takes all morning.

But this morning we got into the routine that I think will work. I'm up at 6 to get myself sorted out, then Lea is up at 7am and out of the house by 7.30am - there is a minibus that picks her up and she is the first one on. I thought that would cause a problem, but she likes it as she gets to choose where to sit. As soon as Lea has left I make a cup of tea and the get TJ up at 8am - then its back out of the house at 8.30 for his school start.

Of course, Papa will tell us we are having a lie in as he leaves the house just before 6 to make the commute up to London - I'm still negotiating a cup of tea in bed before he leaves - that hasn't happened yet!

This morning the 5minute walk to school took nearly 20minute as TJ wanted to stop and look at everything and... amazingly... chat... with me! Previously, he and Lea used to race ahead and I would be left bringing up the rear dragging the dog behind me. But no, now he wanted to talk to me - tell me about his friends and his day. It was lovely, I was enjoying it so much he was nearly late! Then the most incredible thing happened... TJ gave me a kiss before going into school. The very same child who a few days ago tried to kill me - now gave me a kiss and wave and raced into school.

Last night when the bus dropped Lea off she and TJ spent 30minutes playing a game together and telling each other about their day at school. It was just so calm...

Maybe this secondary school business will work out after all!

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!!!!!!!!!

All Quiet on the Home Front....

This is bizarre...

Both kids are still at home - its the last day of the summer holidays for The Sprog and TJ goes back on Wednesday... so my expectation was that today, being their last day off together, would be chaotic.

It's not....

They are playing nicely on the rug - building lego and I am able to sit down and write - this would have been unthinkable even yesterday... maybe they are in a state of shock about school re-starting, or maybe they think if they are really good then I won't actually send them preferring them to be at home with me...

Either way, I am looking forward to getting the routine back into our lives.

All children need a routine - it keeps them safe, lets them know tht the grown ups are incharge, but for adopted children, particulalry those who were adopted at an older age, this is so important. We have first hand experience of both children when they go 'off book' (as we call it). Sprog spirals out of control - usually getting massively over excited about everything... and I mean everything, even a change in her bedtime sends him off kilter. TJ gets anxious and needs constant reassurance - this usually takes the form of countless questions ranging from 'whats for dinner?' to 'what time is it now?' - every five minutes.

Needless to say holidays are hard work - both kids need to know what is happening from day to day and even when they wake up - they need to know what they will be doing and in what order.

In a way we have instated our own 'holiday routine' - we get up, have breakfast, take the dog for a walk, do some homework then lunch and then leave the afternoons for whatever activity they want to do. So to see them spontaneously sitting down and playing together quietly, with no parental instigation is quite strange.

Oddly enough TJ has just looked up at me and asked 'Why is it so quiet?"

I just told him to go back to his game - I may even have a cheeky cup of tea....

Sugar Puff Wars....

After yesterday's whinge today it was all back to normal in our household...

But thank you everyone who wrote or commented about yesterday's 'feeling sorry for myself' post. It was lovely to hear from so many people who both understood and supported me. The summer holidays are just too long for little ones. I know that teenagers probably need the break but for primary school kids a month is about all most of them can manage. I'm not saying we should remove the holidays - just spread them out more evenly over the year - maybe fortnight long half terms in June and October - I remember in my primary school we did just that - we had two weeks in June when most of the factories in the area took the long Whit break. Of course the factories aren't there anymore but we loved it. We lost a week in the summer but it didn't really matter as school was always more fun in the summer months when  we could play out during lunch etc.

Just a thought...

Anyway, as I say it was back to normal this morning.... I ended up having a battle with the kids - over Sugar Puffs!

Let me explain...

At the end of each month and to help with the ever increasing shopping budget, we eat everything that's in the freezer and larder - we make interesting recipes and mixtures - and its great fun, if a little unorthodox, bacon with philidephia cheese on toast was yesterday's lunch.

However, last week I gave in to 'pester power' at the supermarket and instead of the usual Weetabix cereal I agree that the kids could have Sugar Puffs. This was going to be the best cereal ever, they were going to eat it all every day, they loved it... you get the picture. So I gave in and the box was popped into the trolley.

I have to admit there was a bit of nostalgia involved as well, when I was a youngster my Mum often let me have Sugar Puffs (Its all about the honey, Mummy) as a treat. If I recall they were quite expensive at the time. So I was quite looking forward to seeing the kids tucking into one of my childhood favourites...

The next morning they had a bowl each... and decided they hated Sugar Puffs and the box was put back into the cupboard.

So this morning I pulled the box out (its only been open for the week and the boys had eaten everything else) and told the boys that we would have to eat them as it was eat the larder week.

They were furious. Sprog sulked and TJ cried and I got cross and immediately channelled my mother, "There are children in the world with nothing - how dare you complain about my giving you perfectly good food that you wanted me to buy!" My mother was then joined by my Grandmother - "If you don't eat that breakfast then it will still be there for lunch and supper!"Channelling two angry women is a bit draining....

"You wouldn't do that," Sprog said. "Try me!" I replied. TJ looked shocked and immediately started to eat... Sprog refused and sat there staring at me... I am beginning to see the teenager already...

So I decided that I would join them in the breakfast debacle and prove just how delicious Sugar Puffs are and how silly the kids were being....

I then made a discovery...

Sugar Puffs are disgusting!

Now I'm going to sound like one of those boring people who goes on about how everything was better in the 70's... It wasn't, I remember the drought and standing in line with buckets to fill the bath, I remember the bin strike and sitting in a car stuffed with bin bags and flies as we took or own rubbish to the tip and sat in a queue outside, I also remember the bread strike and having to eat my Mum's homemade bread - which was awful!!!!!!

But Sugar Puffs? They were a deliciously unhealthy breakfast cereal with so much sugar and honey that they turned the milk a funny orange colour and stuck in your teeth for days.... This muck I put in front of my kids was dreadful, I think the cardboard box they came in had more flavour...

But I had laid the gauntlet down. So I duly ate the mushy creral and made all the right noises as I did so.

TJ watched and then ate all his. Lea still refused - she accused me of pretending!!!!! So I have now sent them to sports club and as Lea left she noticed her bowl was still on the table... "That will be there for your dinner!" I promised.... (it won't - even I'm not that harsh)

Lea scowled... I smiled... they left and I put the bowl on the floor...

Oh well, the dog liked it...

Holiday Whinge....

Today is probably going to sound a bit like a whinge post...

I'm not going to apologise - I just need to moan to someone... so it might as well be you.

Last night I had a lovely conversation with my mum which finished with her asking me if I was happy. I was a little taken aback. "Well," she said, "your Nan is convinced that you aren't very happy at the moment and now I'm worried too."

Up until that point I had been fine - or I thought I had. Now I was worried that I might actually be unhappy but just not know about it.

I don't know what had brought this epiphany on, particularly as I had just spent the past two weeks in the company of my mum - one week she came to us and then the kids and I went to hers for a week, so I would have thought that if anyone would have noticed my latent misery it would have been her.

If I am unhappy its because I do feel we have wasted so much of this summer break.

I look at pictures of friends and their families enjoying their summer holiday - either here or overseas and realise that we have barely seen Papa in the past month. Firstly he was in India and then Singapore. Then he came home for a few days before he jetted off to New York, then when he came home we went to see Mum, so he could look after the pets and currently he is in Africa whilst I have put the boys into holiday clubs because I need to finish editing the book before my deadline of Sept 1 and, lets be honest, we are all three sick of the sight of each other. TJ is desparate to get back to school and see his friends and Lea just wants to find out what her new school will be like. Both kids hate me for making them do their times tables, reading and music practise - but I just need them to catch up with their peers. Of course they don't see it like that.

I know we usually take our main holiday in February for Chinese New Year in Singapore - but this year that may not happen as the tenants who live in our old house have decided it would be much more fun to go on holiday with their kids than pay the last two months rent... so even that's been taken away from us.

I have forgotten what its like to go with Papa and the kids and sit on a beach for a week and do nothing except play and eat! Which is what family holidays should be about in my opinion...

Mum compares it to when she was a young Mum and my Dad was in the RAF and used to disappear for long periods of time... I'm surprised she wasnt a raging alcoholic - or maybe she was just good at hiding it. Mind you, she also pointed out that he very rarely went away over the holidays...

But its also not had a good effect on the kids - they really miss their Papa - TJ in particular and I think that I am carrying a lot of their sadness at his not being here.

Yesterday, Papa called me from Johannesburg, he final destination on his Africa sojourn - he's not having a good time either. He's pretty unwell, but won't see a doctor. So I got cross with him and he then said that he had called for some sympathy not to be told off. As I pointed out I had only just put the kids to bed - TJ was playing up and refusing to sleep prefering to jump as high as he could on his bed as soon as I walked out of the room and by now it was 9.30 and I was missing Midsomer Murders...

He was complaining about the internet connection overseas and how he couldn't get stuff done that was needed in England and how his tummy was hurting and he was having chest pains and yet when I told him to see the doctor I had my head bitten off... sigh...

So I told him I thought the kids needed a break and his reply was 'they're on holiday aren't they'... but somehow being stuck in a house with me for two more weeks doesn't have much of a 'holiday' feel about it...

So after all that... no Nan, now I'm not happy at all...

Positive TV....

There seems to have been a spate of positive gay couples on reality TV this week - particularly on kids tv.

I don't normally let the kids watch TV in the morning, not because I think it is too bad but simply because the minute it is turned on then it is very hard to pull the Sprog away and get him to do anything else.

I suppose that is mainly due to his early birth experiences, as a child he was locked in a room often with just the TV and TJ for company - either that or he was placed in front of the set whilst the 'grown ups' did their 'stuff' (I have a feeling that watching TV was a lot more about finding comfort and soothing away the 'bad things' - As I have said before the Sprog has an ability to 'replay' his favourite TV shows and movies in his head. Originally this was to protect him from the 'bad things' but unfortunately it now gets in the way of her everyday learning as if he can't understand anything that's going on he simply shuts down and 'watches TV in his head'. It took us a long time to work that one out.... And as my mother pointed out - they experiences they have in early childhood are often very hard to break. Something that Sprog's therapist also confirmed this morning.

Anyway, this week I agreed to let the kids watch some TV in the morning - whilst I sorted my own stuff out. We don't have Sky or cable so they are limited to the three 'free to air' children's channels - they see this as some form of child abuse but as I pointed out to them when I was young children's TV only ran from 3 till 5.30 and on Saturday mornings - they thought that was positivily stone age. Even in the summer holidays we only had TV for a short while - mainly 'Why Don't You' and re-runs of Scooby Doo. I don' know how my Mum coped - although she says she simply opened the front door and pushed us outside - whether we wanted to go or not!

So the kids sat down in front of CBBC and began to watch a show called 'Marrying Mum and Dad" - the premise being that the children in the house get to organise their parents wedding (although in my day most people got married before they had the kids - I seem to have turned into my mother again....) Anyway, the show is quite sweet and the children obviously enjoy it. My two hadn't seen it before and on this day the episode was about three kids orgnising a 'spy themed' wedding for their two Dads. Which was great.... Sprog in particular loved it. By the end of the programme he was offering to organise a wedding for Papa and I. 'But we are already married," I told her. "No you're not," came the reply, "You can't be because David Cameron only said you could last month!"

I was about to explain that we had a civil partnership but to be honest I was amazed that he knew who David Cameron was but also that she had actually listened to the news - its amazing what they take in.

I gave in, "Ok," I said, "If we get married properly then you can organise it."

The Sprog was so pleased. He then stopped and said, "Right, I have to learn to write now so I can write a letter to the programme." Wow! another motivation to help our dyslexic child... I think.

Then last night on the Great British Bake Off (my favourite show) Sprog walked into the room just as they were introducing one of the male contestants and his husband... He watched and then said, "I wonder what sort of wedding they had?" He then added mysteriously, "But it won't be as good as the one I am going to do for you and Papa!"

As the Sprog is obsessed with animals and snakes I have a horrible feeling it might take place in the reptile house at London Zoo....

My cousin is a wedding planner - I may be sending Sprog off for some work experience!

Kidnap!

I am loving the title today.... Although it's not quite as dramatic as it sounds.

Yesterday we took the long drive  to bring Granny home and also to stay for a few days and spend time with both her and my now 90 year old Nan.

As we were coming up in two cars we arranged to meet at a motorway service station at around the half way point. I had TJ in my car so knew that a toilet trip (or two) maybe required so we went first, just in case.

The car is so much quieter with just one child....

We eventually pulled in at the service station and, as its still summer holidays, it was packed. I took TJ to the toilet while Granny queued for their burgers (fast food is allowed on motorway journeys, which actually means they look forward to the trip as its the only time I let them eat such rubbish!)

TJ didn't even bother to rate this toilet... It was truly horrid. However, whilst we were there a couple of chaps came in, one who had obvious additional needs and the other I assume was his carer. The first man thought the toilets were great fun and skipped and ran up and down them like a child, pressing the taps and having a great time.

TJ was transfixed and was about to follow his new found playmate and create mayhem. I got him to wash his hands and told him to hurry up as Granny was waiting. The promise of an overlooked meat patty sandwiched in a chemically processed bap was far more enticing and we left. As we did so I noticed another Dad standing in the doorway,  preventing his children from going in and watching the first man who was now being calmed by his carer, in much the same way as I had with TJ. He was telling his children to wait until the other men had left.

TJ noticed too and said, quite loudly, "is that Dad worried that man still kidnap his children?"the man glared at him and I hurried TJ on with a nervous smile, he carried on, "why weren't you worried? Didn't you think he might kidnap me as well?"

"No one is kidnapping anyone." I said firmly and moved on.

"That's true,' said TJ, "besides you said if anyone ever kidnapped me they would soon bring me back!"

I have to be careful when I joke with Papa as TJ hears everything!

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!

90th Birthday Shenanigans...

This weekend saw the celebrations of my Nanny's 90 years on this earth. Wow!

It was to be a fabulous weekend with a lovely lunch for family and friends on the Saturday after which my sister and her new husband were to join ourselves and my Mum for dinner and an overnight stay at a lovely hotel in the Cotswolds, near to the school where my aunt had organised the party.

It promised to be a lovely day.

We set off just after 9am, after I had checked if it was to be a formal affair (no it wasn't) and if we had locked all the doors and windows.. We did this twice as I had a sudden worry that the messages we had received from our local police lady were all true and we would be robbed whilst we were away, we were leaving the cat overnight, but as terrifying guard cats go he doesn't really hit the mark.

So off we set on a journey that was similar in length to the one we took with Papa's sister and her son to the Fat Duck. Again I knew it would be at least three hours and lunch was to be at 12.30... So off we went.

Except that once we hit the fabulousness that is the motorway on a Saturday we didn't go anywhere.... We didn't go anywhere for over three hours... I called my mum to let her know we wouldn't arrive before 2. To which I received the reply, 'Well, lunch is at 12.30 and if you are not here then you won't get any!' Papa said we should go home....he likes his food....

We eventually arrived at this very posh prep school in the Cotswolds. There we saw all my relatives, and talked about the journey... The kids didn't want food, they were just glad to be out of the car after nearly 6 hours and raced around with their cousins and the children of my cousins...

I got to eat a lovely curry. My Nanny was brought up in India and what she doesn't know about curry isn't worth knowing.

It was lovely. A fantastic day.

Then we said our goodbyes and headed for the hotel

The hotel was ok. A little dated but comfortable nod we had the main four poster bed room,  with two camp beds for the children, they loved that. The Hotel also had a fine dining restaurant so we booked a table.

All was fine until my sisters steak arrived. She had ordered it medium rare and yet when it arrived it was obviously well done. She told the waiter who told her he would sort it out. 

He came back a minute later with her plate and told her that the chef had said that this steak was medium rare and wanted to know what she was complaining about. (seriously the waiter was arguing with my sister about her steak). My sister went into a long chat letting him know that she knew how she liked her steak and this was not it! 

The waiter took the steak back and agreed to cook her a new one, this time free of charge.... Which my sister appreciated, although she didn't appreciate having to defend her decision to send back food she was paying for.... And it wasn't cheap.

Still, that was the only glitch and we were joined by uncles and aunts for drinks in the bar that went well into the evening.

Next morning we had a hearty breakfast and a stroll in the rain before heading back on the motorway through the traffic nightmare that is a Sunday.... Although this time it only took us 5 hours to get home!

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!

Babysitters and Cereal....

So our Singapore friends left yesterday - I took them all to Gatwick and we waved them off.

The children loved the airport, although at £10 for parking and £14 for 3 drinks we are not going too often!

Suddenly the house seems really quiet. We have gone from having a busy household with 3 children and a toddler to just the three of us again. Although TJ is happy as he can now get back into his playroom and play his football game on the wii... which is lucky as today we have seen the first really rainy day of the summer holidays so far. Lea is glued to the TV while I catch up with work.

The children don't know that we are going to make the most of the damp day this afternoon as I have them both booked in for haircuts and they both did their maths homework this morning. We have been doing times tables. I have purchased a cd that they can sing and dance along too whilst singing through the times tables - TJ was even heard singing it in his room this week - whether or not it actually goes in is debatable but it makes me feel like a better parent - so there is definitely an upside.

Whilst Papa was away my friend and I booked our Turkish cleaner twice - not to clean but to babysit - as the children all know her she was an obvious choice - and we got to go out and have a good catch up over dinner without constantly having to entertain 4 kids. We were a bit nervous the first time - mainly for the sitter, as we thought the kids might play her up. But we came back and she told us they had been good as gold, in fact the kids were eager for her to come again, so we decided to go out for the second time on Friday night.

I had just stepped out of the door when I realised that I forgotten my phone so I nipped back home. We had literally only just left the house yet when I came in there was the baby sitter surrounded by the kids pouring out huge bowls of sugar packed cereals - "What's going on?" I asked. "The children are all so hungry," she told me, "Just like the other night - they have not had any food so I am feeding them with the cereal as they are all so hungry. You can't let the children go to bed hungry..."

I stood there stunned. The kids had just had a huge fish finger and chip supper - as a treat if they would be good for the sitter, they even had cakes! The kids were all staring at me with huge eyes and open mouths....

The kids looked at me - I looked at them , the sitter carried on serving cereal. "They have been fed," I told her, "but I guess they are still hungry - however, once they have eaten that they must all go straight to bed." The kids looked suitably guilty and I decided to play this opportunity.

I collected my phone and went back out the door to tell my friend what had happened. We quickly both agreed that we were sill going out - and fast! As long as the kids were happy then we felt less guilty about leaving them and this way we knew there was no way we were going ot be called back as the kids would all be as good as gold! And sure enough they were - we even had time to go to the pub! (see previous post!)

Oh well.... at least everyone had fun!

Papa is back from his Singapore trip this week and he is off to New York on Sunday, the day after Nan's 90th birthday party - its going to be another busy weekend.

Holidays, Friends and Stories....

It's been one whole week since the summer holidays started - that means we only have five more to go! (not that I am counting or anything!)

This first week we have house guests - one of my best friends from my teaching days in Singapore and her two young children - they have been weathering the Singapore school holidays here in the UK and are finishing their trip with us before I whisk them off to sunny Gatwick on Monday to return to Singapore via Dubai.

Papa is currently in Singapore on the first of his many travels over the summer holiday period - he returns tomorrow morning - ifn fact as I write this he is in the air. We have spent the entire day getting the house back into shape for his arrival tomorrow. Papa is usually in a bad mood when he gets back from travelling - he doesn't cope with jet lag very well and he will instantly start channelling Captain Von Trapp the minute he walks through the door - 'Why are these shoes out,?' 'What's all this mess?' 'It's time for the children to march around the garden!' - that kind of thing. So today my friend took her kids up to London to meet her family members for a last farewell whilst the children and I tidyed up - even cleaning their rooms - we can now actually see TJ's bedroom floor!.

It has been lovely having my friend here though - we have had lots of days out in the beautiful sunny weather and we even asked the baby sitter to come in for two evenings so we could go out and catch up properly.

Last night we went for a lovely meal and then ended up in the local pub regailing stories of our past drunken youth (there seemed to be a lot of alcohol involved) and our experiences of family life and her tales of child birth....

She told this great story that I just had to share (I did ask permission - so I won't get into too much trouble).

Her husband had wanted to video the birth of their second child - she had strictly forbidden such things during the birth of heir first and he wanted to be able to share the 'joy' of the arrival with her as she hadn't been down the 'birthing end' and seen the miracle that was their children - she had been otherwise engaged apparently...

After weeks of badgering and the purcahse of a new video camera she reluctantly agreed that he could video the baby's arrival - but not the actual birth, the video could be there after the birth. Here there was obviously some confusion as in her mind she saw a Doris Day style presentation of the child to her by her adoring husband - whilst she was in full make up wearing a bed jacket. He had other ideas and as soon as the midwife shouted 'Its a boy!' he whipped out his camera and videoed the entire remaining event - cutting of cords, stitching up of lady bits etc etc.... (not pleasant)... my friend was not aware of any of this as she had quite happily accepted all the drugs they could offer her - apparently that happens with the second child - the first birth you insist on 'experiencing it' and feeling the moment - the second she just wanted it over with.... I guess by the third you give birth clutching a gin and tonic....

So no more was said of the event and baby was taken home and much love followed them...

Then one evening they had friends over for dinner and the husband was showing off his new video camera and was showing their friends a video of their older daughter doing her first ballet class - my firned went out to the kitchen to prepare the dinner and suddenly heard a scream from the living room - she popped her head around the door just as her husband's friends turned to his wife and said, "What is this?" "I've no idea," she replied staring transfixed at the screen - although the TV was no longer showing an image of a 3 year old girl spinning in a tutu - it now held a picture of my friends lady bits being stitched up by a midwife as the cord was being cut and my friend was in the background crying 'Am I dead yet?"

As my friend said - it wasn't quite the image you wanted to share before you sat down to a lasagne dinner.... particularly as she had told him he wasn't to video the birth - although as hubbie later pointed out - he didn't actually video the birth, as requested.... I'm not sure my friend was entirely convinced.

It turned out the hubbie had simply added the birth onto the video's hard drive - it was one of those fancy HDD recorders and hadn't then copied it onto the computer - so the machine simply carried on playing the next film...

Luckily they are all good enough friends to joke about it - and when she told the story in the pub last night - I spat my wine out I laughed so much!!!!!!!!

I'll miss her when she goes......

Summer holidays... The beginning!

It's been a busy start to the summer holidays.

We decided to go up to see Granny in the North. There are those who would say we were daft to travel on the British motorways on the first day of the long summer holidays... Those people are right! It was madness... We sat in traffic for hours so I decided to take the expensive toll motorway and pay for the privilege of not having to sit on the M6 in a traffic jam on the hottest day of the year...

We decided to stop off at the service station on the toll road... The children wanted a burger... It was as we got to the burger counter that I realised that I didn't have my wallet... Which also meant I couldn't pay the toll and I couldn't turn round as I didn't have enough petrol, not the money to buy petrol... I called the customer services on the toll to see if I could pay later... But customer services were closed... So I did the only thing I could do... I called my Mum!

She agreed to drive down to me and pay the toll, she would meet me at the service station. So we waited. Luckily, I had plenty of water and a banana cake that I had made for my Nan... The cake didn't make it out of the station, it was completely devoured using an expired gym membership card as a make shift knife... There's an irony there I'm sure...

Then Mum called, she was now stuck in a traffic jam coming the other way... She eventually got to us after 2 and a half hours... She only lives 45 mins away.... She wasn't happy... We eventually got back to her house at around 10pm... 8 hours after we left.... 

But it was a lovely weekend. We spent Sunday with my Nan who is turning 90 on Wednesday... She alternated between telling me how well behaved the boys were and how scruffy I was! But a least the boys got a good review.... 

Then my sister and her new husband came to see us. And my new brother in law taught TJ how to turn on the hose... Much to my mum and Lea's annoyance!

We came back yesterday and the children were a nightmare... I don't know if it was saying goodbye to mum or the worry about being stuck in traffic again but they were truly horrendous all the way home... I spent the entire drive down shouting or stressing or both... Awful!

Today though we have been joined by one of my best friends from Singapore and her two children who will stay its is for the next few days... As my friends daughter has her eyes on TJ we shall see what happens over the next few days....

End of Term - again!

Well, this is it.

Its the end of another school year and the end of Key Stage 1 for TJ. He now gets to be a big boy and wear a tie in Year 3.

The year has flown by.

Yesterday was TJ's end of year assembly with parents invited to come and watch. I went into school in the morning to help with the staging of the 'musical number' - Daisy Daisy mashed into 'The Bicycle Song' by Queen as the theme this term has been the Tour de France, which the school have used to teach geography and French.

It was as the song was playing that we realised some of the references in the verses to Coke and Caine - might not be suitable for 7 years old to be singing. So ingeniously (well, I think so) we removed half of the year group and they entered throughout the school hall coming in from all directions during the verse making as much noise as possible in order to block out the offensive lyrics and then join in on the fun bicycle bit.

It went really well - the children really got into it and the Year 6, who watched the dress rehearsal were suitably impressed and the Year  2 children beamed when their older counterparts applauded and whistled.

At the end of the assembly the children reprised the song and TJ was given the special job of leading his group of children down the middle of the aisle through the audience and inviting the parents to come and follow the kids through to the year 2 classrooms for refreshments and to have a look at their work. Inrehearsals it went really well....

On the actual performance TJ decided he didn't want to do that - so he led his group out of the side door. When other children and a teacher told him he was going the wrong way he simply said, "I don't want to go that way!" and led them the other. Strangely they all followed him. He may be diminutive but he is certainly authoritative as not one of them argued with him or went the correct way. I think he may well be a commander in the armed forces... either that or a traffic warden!

Later in the classroom I asked him to show me his work - he pointed at a wall - "It's on there somewhere," he said - and then raced outside to play with his friends.

To be honest I couldn't find any of his work - I'm not even sure if he goes to that school - there was no evidence of any of TJ's wok anywhere. Well, he may imply have told his teachers that they were not allowed to put them up... I guess he would charge them a royalty fee!

Hot Days, Hot Tubs and A & E!

This weekend we had a lovely time.

On Friday morning my phone alarm went off - it simply said, "Dinner Tonight Chinatown."
I called Papa and asked him who we were due to be having dinner with?
That's one thing I have noticed since becoming a parent - you simply don't remember anything as you are so caught up in packed lunches, after school clubs, school trips etc etc.

Papa couldn't remember either - but that was probably because he hadn't made the arrangements - I had!

Then I had a message through on my Facebook - 'What time are we meeting for dinner tonight?' and it was from a lovely Singaporean actress/director friend of ours who was over for the week and with whom I had planned this date months ago!

Yes, it all fitted and rather than worrying about what was supposed to be happening we were excited again. I picked the boys up from school and we left straight for Chinatown - they love it there, well, TJ is half Singaporean after all - as he delights in telling everyone (wait till he learns he has to do national service if he wants to get that Singapore passport!)

It was a lovely evening, both of our familes got on really well and their little one and TJ were soon happily playing games and watching TV on the ipad while Lea regaled us all with her conversational skills.

Then on Saturday morning we headed off to Brighton to stay with some other lovely friends - and boy was it hot!

It also seemed as if the whole world had chosen to go to Brighton today - but we made it down there in time for a stroll and late lunch of chips and ice cream on the beach and then headed back to our friend's place for an evening barbecue and a soak in their hot tub... which was what the children were most excited about.

So we went back to our friend's house avoiding some of the less savoury and rather 'fragrant' crowds that were lining the promenade by the evening. The kids literally stripped down to their underwear and jumped into the hot tub whilst we sipped pink bubbly and watched our friends fire up their barbecue.

It was an idyllic scene which was suddenly broken by Lea crying out, "Daddy, TJ's bleeding!" I turned around and sure enough TJ had blood pouring from his chin down his chest. "Its just a little cut," I said knowingly, "It probably looks worse than it is." It was at this point that TJ, who had been silent till now, lifted back his head and screamed - as he did so his chin opened up revealing a layer of skin and flesh and I'm still convinced that I saw bone (although that maybe my mind overly dramatising the event - either that or I've seen too much Casualty). Resisting the urge to vomit I calmly looked at Papa and said, "I think we need to go to A & E." It was at this point that we realised that I was the only adult who could drive - I was also over the drink\drive limit but luck was on our side. The Brighton Children's A& E was only a short walk away.

So I picked TJ up and went with our friend to the A& E. For those of you that don't know the A & E in Brighton is up an incredibly steep and long hill - by the time we got there both TJ and I needed medical attention as I was sure I was going to have either an asthma attack, a heart attack - or both.

They say never get sick at the weekend or on a public holiday and they are right!

We walked through the entire hospital and didn't meet a single member of staff - no-one to tell us where to go. Luckily my friend is a calm and knowledgable sort (he'll like that) who worked out from the incredibly complicate map where we should go. So we went up to the 5th floor to a special A & E dept for kids and from that point on they were brilliant. It was a lovely atmosphere and TJ was seen and 'glued' back together within 90 minutes - the NHS at its finest, even dealing with the drunk 14 year old in the bed next door whose parents obviously wanted to get back to the pub and the 'birkenstock wearing' middle class Guardian reading family who wouldn't let their child watch the TV as it was showing nasty working class 'football' - which unfortunately TJ was glued to!

After all this adventure we headed back to our friends lovely home and had a delicious barbecue washed down with far too much wine - but at least the walk back was downhill all the way!!!!!!!!

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.

The Mouseketeers...

On Saturday it was the school fair.

The hottest day of the year so far and I had been 'volunteered' to don a full Mickey Mouse suit and parade around the school field for three hours waving and entertaining the kids. Alongside me was my long suffering 'dress up' partner... Whenever there is dressing up to be done she and I always seem to head the list.... Either that or nobody else will do it.

This obviously stems from some form of insecurity as we must both have agreed to do it early on when our children first joined the school in an effort to be liked and since then we are always dressing up... Fat elves. Mice... Whatever.... 

I now totally respect those poor guys at Disney who wander around the park... Those costumes are bloody hot! Although at Disney, I am informed, they have a time limit as to how long they can stay in the costume... We did a full hour at one point, as I desperately tried to wipe sweat out of my eyes (which involved pushing Mickeys fist in through his mouth and to a small child it must have looked as if the said mouse was scratching his brain) the Head Teacher said, "You'll be alright, just stand here for twenty minutes more then you can have a break"... It's a good job the characters aren't allowed to talk...

I am also told that each character has a human 'guide' to help them around. This is especially important as, due to the hugeness of Mickeys head, you are unable to see anything that is directly in front of you and this is incredibly hazardous as most of the children who want to hug you are usually only waist height... Which means that should your 'guide' wander off to chat to the cute football coach then you are left standing in a hot field, sweat dripping into your eyes, with thousands of little hands trying to grab your legs whilst an older child hits you on the head with the 'blow up' hammer they have just won on the 'hook a duck' stall....

Still, on the whole it was great fun and Mickey and Minnie got to help draw the raffle... "And third prize goes to...." The head teacher said... Yes it was me! But I was being Mickey... 'I wonder where he is?" The head teacher joked.... As the prize was the alcohol hamper there was no way I was going to allow her to re draw it... I was just in the process of whipping off my head and causing immeasurable upset to many a small child when the Head Teacher gave me a wink and said, "don't worry I know where he is."

My favourite moment was after I was de-moused and helping to put away the stalls. One of TJs friends came  up to me and said , "it's such a shame you came late.... You missed Mickey Mouse!"

Disney will thank me for that....

So on the upside Papa and I spent yesterday watching Andy Murray's amazing victory with Pimms, lemonade and crisps all courtesy of the school hamper! 

Why don't we have a mum?...

Why do children always want to talk about the most important things when you are rushing to do something else?

In our case we were late for school - as usual. We only live over the road from the school so why we always leave it to the last minute to get out of the door amazes me. Today was just the same as any other day except that as we were crossing the road TJ suddenly says, "Why did you choose my name?"

"Well, to be honest, we didn't choose your name," I replied, "Your birth mum did.. but we chose you." and I smiled re-assuringly (as all the adoption manuals recommend). "Anyway," I went on, "we chose your middle name together, remember?"

"I don't like my name." TJ replied simply.

Immediately all my psychological warning bells went off (guess what I am studying for) and I know that usually when a child says they don't like something as fundamental as their name then it usually shows they don't like themselves - self esteem issues are high on the agenda for many adopted children.

We walked a little bit slower now as I felt a conversation was about to come on - a conversation that had to be raised by TJ, not led by me (even though I was desparate to).

"Why don't we have a mum?"

Great, we have five minutes before the school gate is closed and he asks me this. Oh well, if we are late then so be it - this needed to be discussed.

"Well," I said, "You do have a mum but she couldn't look after you and so you went into care while the social workers found you a new family. Daddy and Papa also wanted a family and we chose you. So you are very lucky, you were chosen, not many children can say that."

I breathed out after giving what is pretty much my standard reply to this question when it ever comes up. But then came his retort, "But we didn't choose you, nobody asked me what I wanted."

"And what did you want?" I asked. As soon as this came out of my mouth I knew that I was not going to like the reply. But it was quite insightful of him - they do say that children are usually a little bit older before they realise that in order to have be 'chosen' you first have to have been rejected by another family. Rejection is probably the wrong word to use but I can't find one that sums up how they would feel. In many ways I was glad that TJ was able to feel safe enough to have this conversation even though I knew I wasn't going to like what came next.

"I wanted a mum." he said, "I think I would have liked to have a mum."

" I know you would sweetie," holding his hand, "I know you would have liked to have a mum, but lots of children come from different families - some have one mummy, some one daddy, some have two mummies and some two daddies - like you."

"I know all that," he replied knowingly, 'I'm just saying that when I get older and get to choose my next family I'm going to have one with a mum."

"Well, unfortunately, this is the only family you're going to have mister," I said, probably a bit too strictly, "so get used to it... besides, this family loves you and I would be very sad if you went somewhere else."

He thought about this, "Do you think my birth mum was sad that I had to leave her?"

Where had all this come from?

"I think she probably was," I said, "But she knew she wasn't able to give you the love and care you needed to she knew it was better for you to be adopted and we told her we would love you."

"Do you think she would get me a new football?" he asked, "A blue one?"

"Well, maybe we could get you one this weekend," I replied.

"Good," he said with a smile, "because I want one of those."

And with that he rushed into school just as the gates were closing.

I was left standing there in a slight state of shock. Had my youngest child just used his adoptive story to manipulate me into promising him a new football? Possibly, but either way he was sharing a deep feeling with me - whether he knew it or not and I think that deserves a new football....

Nearly Forty....

It all began with an innocent text message.

This weekend was the Sprog's godmother's birthday (she is the fairy godmother, her hubbie is TJ's 'furry' godfather) and late last week I had a sudden panic that this year was the big 40 celebration. This was understandable as last year she had a 'not yet 40' party which involved a shed...  (It's a long story but a great party). I was a little embarrassed that I didn't know so I thought that a quiet little text message to her hubbie would ensure that we had the right gift on Sunday.

The message read 'just a quick question, is it Fairy's 40th birthday on Sunday?"

The reply was a simple, 'Yes! We are all heading to Camber Sands for a birthday tea and horse riding on the beach." The Fairy Godmother loves horse riding so this was an apt present and one that she would love.

We went into panic mode. Where I had intended to send a lovely bouquet and a card I now had to sort out a present suitable for a milestone birthday. We also had our nephew's graduation celebration on Saturday so any shopping would have to be done on Sunday morning.

The graduation on Saturday was lovely, Papa's sister and brother in law were on good form and the little Prince had a great day... We came home very late but I knew we had to get up early to organise the fortieth birthday present on Sunday.

We got up early, I pre-cooked lunch and got all the laundry done in the morning, then we rushed off to Bluewater to get cards and a suitable present. The boys wanted to give their Godmum a picture frame with a picture of themselves in their suits which was taken at my sister's wedding earlier this year (it's not often they look smart) So we sorted that out and then headed to Papa's favourite jewellery store.... An hour later we had selected the right gift, bought paper, cards, ribbon and a fab birthday cake shaped like a handbag (a last minute request from Furry as he had forgotten to pack a cake. he requested chocolate but I thought a fancy handbag shape was much better for such an important birthday) and then we headed home. Whilst I prepared a cold Sunday salad Papa and the boys wrote their cards and wrapped their gifts.

We then headed off to Camber Sands on the coast. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day for a picnic on the beach. Except Furry then dropped me a line to ask if I could get some paper cups for the wine he had in his picnic basket, oh and some paper plates and cutlery. As we drove around the countryside looking for a convenience storePapa was getting exasperated. "Why is this so last minute?" He said, "Surely Furry knew it was Fairy's 40th, it's not like its a surprise!"

"In his defence," I said, recalling Papa's own reaction to his 40th birthday, "it may well be that Fairy doesn't want to celebrate her 40th, it's a birthday a lot of people have a problem with, hence it's a low key affair with just family and close friends on the beach doing something she loves - I think it's very sweet."  "Well he could have called me," Papa sulked, "I'm good at organising parties." (Which is very true)

So we went to the little shop at the concentration camp that is the local holiday 'resort' and purchased plates, cups, cutlery and napkins and headed to the beach.

Unfortunately, there was a strong sea breeze... Well, sea gale to be more precise and the dunes resembled a scene from Lawrence of Arabia with people rushing from the beach as sand gusted in clouds around them. The children and I got out of the car and were immediately exfoliated, we all said our hellos and wished Fairy a happy birthday before jumping back into the car and heading back into the little town of Rye to meet other friends for fish and chips by the quayside.

We all sat down and Fairy started opening her cards and gifts. "Happy 40th" we all shouted. "But I'm 39," Fairy said. "Yes,"I replied, "I've been 39 for fours years now, its called denial," And we laughed.

Then she opened her first card which was from the kids and featured a monster clutching the numbers 4 and 0.  Fairy looked blank, "I am really only 39." She said. I laughed in disbelief as she opened our tastefully decorated fortieth birthday card. 

"She really is only 39," said the friend.... 

I went cold.

"Born in 1974." She went on.

I quickly pulled out my phone and traced back through the text messages with Furry. There it was, plain as day...Fairy is 40!

Luckily everyone saw the funny side and were soon rolling around laughing as Furry explained he had only half read the message as he knew he had to tell me what was happening for Fairy's birthday! Misunderstanding explained... As was the lack of fortieth birthday organisation... She wasn't 40...

Then I suddenly saw Fairy about to open the present from Papa and myself... A present that was now completely inappropriate and bordering on the ridiculous.... I grabbed it back. "You can have this next year," I said. I know it is awfully bad form to take back a present but a replacement will be sent forthwith and on top of that I can't tell you what the original present was as that will spoil the surprise for next year... When it really will be Fairy's 40th.... If we are invited of course!!!

Oops!