Friday 12 December 2008

I work in an office five days a week. I live 6 miles from the office and I usually drive. In summer months I cycle, when time allows. I enjoy work, but it is work, not a party, and I love my home but that, too, is tiring and often stressful. But inbetween work and home I enjoy this:





I took these this morning. Every single day I feel completely overwhelmed with how lucky I am to have that view into work every morning. (And no, I don’t work in France!)

Thursday 4 December 2008

The Max Effect



Max is six. He doesn’t have BO and he doesn’t have underarm hair. And yet he’s taken to applying deodorant every morning. And no, he doesn’t have any, but he waits for his brother to leave their shared room and then has a quick spritz of Eli’s under his arms. OVER his clothes!! I know this because I caught sight of two white circles of cold, wet Lynx on the pits of his royal blue school sweater….


Oh well, I thought, it’ll wash out and he’s going off to school feeling just that little bit older and more sophisticated than the other 6 year olds in his class so I let him get in the car not saying any more about it. However (!) it wasn’t until he was getting out of the car at school that I noticed a white circle of Lynx on his, um, crotch area! I do hope Emily was impressed with his grooming!!

Monday 1 December 2008




I'm back in bloggyland. The last week or so have been filled with Eli and Max learning their Christmas play songs and, in Eli’s case, his lines. Max is playing – I say playing, I mean representing, as he has no lines to say – Joseph, which he’s made up with cos he’s always wanted to be a carpenter, apparently. And Eli’s class is doing Cinderella Rockafella and he’s an ugly sister, which, if you know Ellis, will sound right up his street – camp and pantomime are his middle names. I cannot wait to see both plays, I know all the kids in their classes and I just fall in love with them every Christmas. They all put their little hearts into their performances, I was never so confident as a child, my flame haired, spinster music teacher used to should shout ferociously at the girls for not having such lovely singing voices as the boys, knocked my confidence and so never enjoyed being on the stage myself…

Luke’s apparently been entered into a school singing competition by his teacher. He and a few friends have to sing a ‘really old song, by someone called Queen’. I sang a few lines of Bohemian Rhapsody and he exclaimed that that was the song he has to perform. Good luck with that then Spooks!!

I’ve started Christmas shopping. I’ve decided that, having got three kids, I cannot avoid it. So I have decided to, er embrace it. I'm old school I'm afraid, brought up a Catholic (although not practising now, can you imagine?!) but Christmas for me is a sacred time and I get right hacked off with all the commercialism of it all. For instance if there are to be decorations to be hung then they’ll be Victorian and traditional and there will not be a Liverpool Football Club advent calendar anywhere in my house!!! And if I see fit to buy presents for people it might well not come off their ‘lists’ (when did it become normal for adults to compose Christmas present lists?). I believe that Christmas is about giving, not expecting. Anyhooo, I’ve been asked what I would like to receive so I’ve voiced some suggestions, all very girlie, all very decorative, all very shallow and self indulgent, so what does that say?!

Times are hard, especially with Christmas coming up, these last two weeks I’ve been working my tits off for very little, if any, recognition and I'm now facing tough times ahead, for me and my little ones. When I try to do the best I can and I get knocked down then it’s hard to see any further than my nose, not a great feeling when I have to be the grown up sensible one. I’ve felt defeated recently, isolated and completely tested to the hilt. And then one day I was driving home with Ellis and his mate, in the back of the car and they were joyous about the football match that their team had just won. I heard them talk about one particular little boy on their team who scored an own goal – didn’t make any difference cos our school won by about 8 goals, but the own goal scorer burst into tears and sobbed about his ‘failing’. And the kid on the back seat of my car apparently told him ‘Why are you crying, we’re still winning’.

Pain is temporary, pride lasts forever!








Saturday 15 November 2008

Thank you for stopping by but I'm currently out of the office at the moment. If you have an urgent request please feel free to leave me a message and I shall respond upon my return. In the meantime normal service shall resume once I've found my sobriety and sense of humour ;o)

Thursday 6 November 2008

Making the most of life

I’ve been a single mum for seven years today. It’s seven years today that the boys’ dad decided to leave and go and live with someone else. I’m over it, but I’ll never be allowed to forget it as the date just happens to also be my son’s birthday.

When my boys were younger I was so preoccupied with the practical stuff, the logistics, earning the dough and paying the bills that I forgot to enjoy them whilst they were little. Now I'm mature enough to see the beauty in their funny ways, and their innocence, I really enjoy their company. Their dad and I had a happy marriage, although it ended sadly with him leaving me for a much younger girl whilst I was 6 months preggers with Maxi…not a good time but hey ho, it’s made me the girl I am today, ie incurably independent, and not afraid to graft. I’ve come to believe that life’s a series of tests, which is exhausting but finally gives a purpose and I only hope that my kids, or any kids, learn from my mistakes/life. What is your life worth if nobody learns from it? This thinking keeps me wrapped up in yester-year, my melancholy, romantic view on human nature…we’re too intellectual an animal to let the past pass us by without reaping some reward. I see the simplest plant growing, I hear the clearest voice of a bird in my garden, I remember a wave dying on a beach and I truly believe that they’re put there to teach me something, a sign from somewhere to keep us grounded to the life that we’re put here for. I get to the age of 35 (ahem) and finally feel that I get it, I finally see what all the fuss it about; when we’re young we don’t see it but it’s when we lose/gain people that we see the life that’s most important. I'm really worried that not many people share that with me, I almost feel like I'm dying cos there’s so much I haven’t seen/done and that I'm running out of time.

On Monday I attended a wonderfully sincere funeral for a lovely lady who was taken too soon. Kind of put me in my place and made me realise what's important.


Wednesday 5 November 2008

Nice

I love being a mum, you get to scrub sour puke out of the carpet and everything...

Sunday 2 November 2008

Some photos

Today I've been looking at photos that we took over the summer, here are some of my favs from camping in August:
Max took this one of me and him

In the, er 6 inch rapids...(Bexhill)


Off roading at Seven Sisters country


Boys chillin in old fashioned seaside fashion



Eating breakfast in the sunshieeenne



MM and me

RIP Jeff Buckley

Friday 31 October 2008

I just overheard a funny convo:

Luke and Ellis had been playing a football match on the Playstation and Ellis disappeared downstairs for whatever reason. Think Luke got bored waiting for his brother to return to the match and this is what I heard:

‘I'm going for bath Ellis’ Luke called down the stairs.
‘A what?’ asked a confused sounding Ellis.
‘A bath’.
‘A bath??’ asked Ellis.
‘Yep’ replied Luke.
‘You’re going for a bath?’ asked confused Ellis.
‘Yes’.

‘Why?’ asked Ellis.

Oh dear god.

Wednesday 29 October 2008

Worried about Ray!



Is it out of order to tell rude people at a gig to shut up?

My lovely sister, Harriet, and I went to see The Hoosiers play at LCH last night. Place was packed with a mixture of people/ages. I’ve seen Hoosiers before and love em. Their poppy singles are ok, but don’t do the band justice. In between the predictable chart tracks the band played wonderfully melodic, insisting, rhythmic, soul felt songs and rifts, rocking out when necessary. Anyway, during the support act sis and I found ourselves amongst 6 teenage girls, all laughing and joking and throwing their arms around wherever they liked…we ignored them, although it was hard to (they were really loud and knocking into us a lot, very irritating). So then Hoosiers came on and one and half tracks in and Irwin is strumming soulfully on his guitar, singing his little lungs out and all I can hear is very loud chitter chatter, mainly coming from the oiks behind me. I bit my tongue for half a minute. Then half a minute more. Then, wtf – I’d paid nearly 40 quid for this gig - I turned to the 18 yr old culprit – whose voice I could hear over Irwin’s, and his voice is amp’ed up – and said ‘Do you know the Hoosiers are on stage?’ To which she replied ‘yes’. I stared at her and said ‘well all I can hear is your f@*king
chit chat!’. She shut up and I proceeded to enjoy my evening. Am I getting old??



Monday 27 October 2008

Baker's dozen

Maxi getting stuck in!
Yummy results below:

(yep, that is a reindeer...)





Oh, oh, oh, it's magic!


We’re on day one of half term, I'm so pleased to be off and at home with the boys I can’t tell you. There’s not much that’s more miserable and stressful than going/getting to work when your kids are off school. So today I’ve made lots of plans to get jobs done that I can do whilst off, ie get car serviced, get to dentist, get leaky tap fixed and so far all Luke and Ellis have done is learn card tricks by watching tutorials on the internet and for the past 4 hours they have been practising on me, max and each other, almost without a break. Their enthusiasm is very sweet and their flawed performances funny. I am just so, so glad they choose to be here at home, safe and sound, rather than wandering round the streets, aimlessly looking for something to do…I was very worried that Luke the sheep might want to spend all week with his mates (only last Thursday I had to drop everything and drive few miles to collect him, and bmx, as it had got too dark for him to cycle home – it was only 6pm but I don’t want him out in the dark on his own, am I bit soft?)

Anyway, we’re all rolling up our sleeves now to do a spot of baking, probably not great timing as I am staaaaaaaaaarving and will pick while in the kitchen (although not much to pick at, I got the ‘big shop’ down to 45 quid today). Must keep thinking about the bridesmaid dress, DWTBAFB! Will post pics of end result (cakes and cookies, not big fat belly)


Sunday 26 October 2008

25 Hour Day

Big Premiership match played today, Chelsea v Liverpool. My brood are ardent lifelong LFC supporters and MM’s boys are Chelsea fans (and not just pretend ones, they’ve actually been to Stamford Bridge). We watched the match at MM’s, who kindly cooked for the 7 of us. Liverpool won, the MM clan conceded very politely and my lot didn’t rub it in too much…

I was once talking to Max about MM and was trying to gauge how Max felt about this (lovely, sexy, handsome) guy who has been in our life for almost three years. ‘You like MM?’ I asked, ‘Yes’ says Max, ‘because he’s got Sky Sports and Skips’

Well fair enough, and today he had his fill of both.

Last night I watched X factor with my boys and MM on Messenger. We’re judgmental and are full of opinion. Yeah, yeah, trashy telly but it’s about the only thing I do watch (that and Harry Hill). And I just love, love Austin, a natural singer, full of heart. He sang Mack the Knife and so I immediately downloaded, I mean bought, the Bobby Darin version. O. M. G. That is how, as they say, it’s done. End of. I'm mesmerised. And I’ve been listening to Eva Cassidy all day, which has me hooked. Oh get me some Nina Simone! The telly annoys me, I rarely have it on. But music I have on ALL the time. Music, and more to my taste, vocalists, can be heard with the eyes shut and so transcends telly by miles. The most gorgeous sound I have ever heard is that of my babies singing.

Right, I'm back at home and going to enjoy my extra hour that we’ve been given, it’ll probably involve Merlot and cheese because I really don’t need much of an excuse…

Friday 24 October 2008

Just wanted to show you how much OJ Ellis generously left in the fridge for the rest of us.

I am blessed.


TFI Friday


Just watching the 'news' and I've just been informed that after 16 years of economic growth we are now heading for a full fat recession. Wow, what a great start to the weekend.

‘What are you doing on your lappie watching telly at 7am?’ I hear you ask, well Ellis has gone on a school trip to France (well, it is only 20 odd miles away so why not?) and so was instructed to convene at half blooming six this morning, oh the joys. I don’t mind, Eli was so excited, however we got to school, in the dark and were the first ones there. As we sat in the car and watched everyone else turn up it did occur to me that I was probably the only parent that had left two children in bed, home alone. It wasn’t a choice I took lightly and I could have ask for another parent to collect Ellis for me, but the school is half a mile away so I was gone for only ten minutes. I’ve done my research and I know that it’s not illegal to leave children alone, apparently you may leave your kids at whatever age you deem appropriate. I often leave Luke to do a quick shop or footie run, but never leave Max. I did today cos I weighed up the situation and fortunately all was fine. Max and Luke slept soundly and NOTHING HAPPENED! I'm one of those mums that doesn’t like asking for help and I'm the mum that always has other kids in the car. I'm going to be collecting Eli from the docks later and picking up two of his friends too. I don’t mind at all, however I really do mind it when some parents take the piss and don’t offer lifts back. I mean there is one lovely boy that I always take to football but his mum never offers to take Ellis, ever, and I’ve never even seen her, let alone had a thank you. And yes, I do go out of my way, dragging my other children around too. I think she’s single, with a few kids and maybe she thinks that I have a husband at home to help out, and that it’s her right to be helped. Humph!

I helped someone very close to me yesterday, nasty job, upsetting, tiring but very worthwhile. I did it as they’d done something to help themselves and so I felt that I should encourage that. I'm not a mug but I will help anyone who tries. And after a year of trying to encourage positive behaviour from this person I think I'm getting through, hope to god I am. Might write more on that subject one day.

I’ve got to go and rouse Max and get myself ready for another day in the office now, whilst all the time ignoring there’s less money coming in and more money going out. Still, it’s Friday, which means I’ll see MM tonight and we’ll surely drown our stressful week in Chilean Merlot aplenty!


(Photo is of a French sunset I took this summer)

Monday 20 October 2008

Extended weekend

Back to school and work Monday. Most of us don’t have any problems with getting up on a cold, dark Monday morning. I do easily cos I need to earn a crust to feed the clan. Luke the sheep gets up quickly so that he doesn’t miss cycling to school with his mates. Eli is next to rise, getting up relatively easily, if it is only to quench is hunger pangs. Max leaves getting out of bed until the very last possible moment and only after receiving intense nagging from me and threats from his brothers. In his defence climbing down from a five foot high metal bed and negotiating a cold ladder wouldn’t be my idea of waking up either.

From 7am to 7.30am I am standing in my kitchen, by the toaster, making endless rounds of toast and/or muffins. Max will frequently request a muffin and then toast for his ‘pudding’. Whilst making toast I’ll eat my breakie standing up, listening to Moylesy and preparing lunches. Pack ups for Eli and Max and salad for me. The boys’ pack ups are huge. They’re bigger than any other pack lunch I’ve ever seen a minor take to school. They’re healthy (in the most part) and are a never ending source of imagination exercise for me as I agonise on how to keep them interesting. Anyway, this weeks’ favourite roll filler is cheese and salad cream and I baked some homemade flapjacks hoping to a) add variety and b) keep costs down. Needless to say none of the boys like my flapjacks and yes, they were in the oven for a few minutes too long, granted, but they’re full of good stuff, seeds and oats and honey … the birds will think it’s Christmas come early.

Ellis and Max went to a friend’s birthday party after school so Luke and I not only had peace and quiet for a couple of hours (we watched stunt bikes on YouTube and I desperately tried to sound impressed and cool at the same time) and we also enjoyed a meal together. I wasn’t arsed to cook for just the two of us (the more peeps in the house the less inclined you are to cook when numbers diminish. I can imagine a family of six reduced to four one evening and mum saying ‘oh, it’s really not worth cooking for just the four of us…!) I had some - when I say some I mean loads - reduced price ready meal curries in the freezer and so let him choose what he wanted. He chose chicken tikka masala, which we ate on our laps watching Friends, how very Friday night!

Sunday 19 October 2008

Sweet!


Sitting on the sofa with my Maxi, it's Sunday morning, we're snuggled up under a blanket, with the cat. Max says that he's hungry and so I offer to make him breakfast, I suggest muffins. He says that he wants chocolate and asks if I can make chocolate.

'No I can't, only special people can make chocolate'.

'But you're special' he replied.

:-)

Tuesday 14 October 2008

(Very) young love




Max is in love with Emily. Emily is also 6 and is in his class, a pretty blonde girl and she and Max often sit alone together in the playground talking about important 6 year old matters.

Emily told Max that she and her family were moving to France, to which Max did not respond well to. He moped about all weekend, not wanting to contemplate life without Emily and he decided he wanted to send her off to France with a token of his love. So while we were shopping in the romantic emporium that is Tesco, Max spied a High School Musical necklace which he immediately wanted to purchase for his love. And so he did, with his own money (£4) and popped it into a decorated envelope covered with hearts and kisses and proclaiming to Emily in his own handwriting that he ‘luffs her’. Ah.

She readily accepted the present, letting Max put it round her neck, and then declared to him that she wasn’t actually going to live in France now (her family has just put a conservatory on the back of the house and never had any intention of moving) and rather than being put out that he had been fibbed to about the French move, he was delighted that she ‘wasn’t going anymore’. And today he came home and told me that he and Emily have planned to marry and that tomorrow she will bring in a ring for him to wear. And they will honeymoon in Bardados (he meant Barbados) and that when they’re married they’ll go to a posh restaurant, on their own.

I congratulated him and hope to goodness that Emily doesn’t break his heart.


Wednesday 8 October 2008

Pigs did fly!!


Well, would you believe it?! With absolute astonishment I discovered that Luke was, indeed, vacuuming his bedroom – unasked! …just please give me a moment whilst I get up from having fallen on the floor.

I’ve never, in all my years of knowing Luke, seen him lift a finger without being nagged to do so (tears usually get the idle so and so moving, my tears that is, not his). And yet he took it upon himself to get the vac, drag it up stairs, USE IT and take it back downstairs again – I honestly want to throw my hands up in the air and rejoice to a haunting chorus of ‘Alleluia’.

I think he was prompted by my manic (absolutely no other word for it) tidy up/clear out session I had last night. I manically cleared out wardrobes and bedrooms ruthlessly, feeling my mind get tidier as the black sacks were filled with unwanted items, it was nothing short of cathartic. Luke has his own bedroom and took my lead and actually – hold breath for dramatic pause – cleared out his wardrobe!! He proceeded to do a fine job and I was reminded last night that the carpet in his room was green. Which was nice.

Just a little reminder that you can become a ‘follower’ of my blog (having been brought up in the Catholic faith that does feel a wee bit strange for me to say – I'm not suggesting for a minute that you take my ramblings and deliver their meanings in your own tongue to the unannointed and Gentiles). No, no, it’s just that it’s been pointed out to me that it might not be very obvious to blog readers that you can click on the link on the right and what happens then, I'm not entirely sure, perhaps one of you could tell me!

Right, I’ve just eaten some grilled halloumi cheese on brown toast without even noticing, such is my greed. Halloumi’s fat content is off the scale, we’re talking Extreme, which is not helping with my DWTBAFB diet, which I am now following after trying on my bridesmaid dress yesterday. Let’s just say that the promised photos will probably not make their way to these pages, however I’ve promised Nikki that I’ll do the dress justice on the day.

Off now to balance out the Extreme eating with a nettle tea, infused with a few drops of perspective.


Tuesday 7 October 2008

Claire and Sons Limited

There’s nothing like a little crisis to get the adrenalin flowing and reminding you not to get complacent. Indeed, these tribulations that come along and test me and make sure I'm keeping my end of the (parent) bargain, that is to provide food and shelter to my off spring. It’s sometimes pretty hard going doing just that.

I'm in receipt of tax credits and due to the way that they awarded, means that as of the new tax year I will not receive quite so much – now working full time means that I earn more of my own cash. Great, and I wouldn’t have it any other way cos, as those nearest to me know, I am quite proud and fiercely independent. However, if tax credits are there with my name on them I’ll take them, thanks, but the trouble is when I go from working part time to full time and the difference in the amount of tax credit I will receive is, well let’s just say it’s more than my mortgage and insurances put together. Hmmm, quite a drop in one fell swoop and quite a shock which has my mind turning as to how I am going to provide the rudimentary, as per the bargain. (Doesn’t help that yesterday I had to shell out 3 day’s pay to get my drain unblocked…) Anyway, my point is that at times like this, when it’s all brain cells to the problem, frantically figuring out how I'm actually going to cope, that I remind myself that I'm very lucky because I have two options, that is I either sink or I swim. And, as my dad will testify, I am a strong swimmer, and MM says that I'm the best swimmer he knows (yes, yes, I know you were talking about the physical act of swimming but please allow me some analytical license).

I own my house and run it like a business, not that I have any formal training, but it has been the only way that I can function since day one. And so I know that my friends snigger at me for keeping all of my receipts and logging what I have spent but to me it’s just simple book-keeping. I have records of every single penny that has come in, and gone out, of this house for the last seven years, quite literally. This way I produce plans and projections, I kid you not, so that I know how much I have to spend, or otherwise, on x, y and z. I don’t borrow money and I pay for everything in cash. I get paid, I pay the bills and any profit I make goes into savings and pays for holidays and Christmas. I'm sad, I know, but it’s this system of being regimented about logging everything that gives me some stability during harsher times. There’s no guessing, no overspending and I know exactly what I'm working with. And so I hope that I’ll sleep better tonight, having been reminded about what I have etched on my wrist, and that is ‘autonomy’; that I am independent and have the freedom to deal with the tribulations however I wish to and, as I say, I don’t do sinking.

Have got to end here to go and investigate a really strange noise coming from upstairs, Luke's room I think….I cannot believe my ears, honestly, I think I can hear the Dyson being used up there, no, it can’t be, I'm not up there, I'm here on the sofa…but it is, it really sounds like a vacuum cleaner being pushed over carpet and yet I haven’t asked/told anyone to do it, it appears that the Dyson went up the stairs and is working of its own accord. I shall investigate and will let you know.

Sunday 5 October 2008

Catch up

Firstly, thank you so much for those of you who have sent me lovely comments about my blog – I was unsure about how it would be received but am soooo pleased that some of you relate to it and enjoy reading. Thank you again for taking the time to message me xx

Have had another busy week; on Thursday we went to Pizza Hut with my best friend Nikki and her two kids, Matthew and Jessica, old friends that we’ve spent a lot of time with over the years, going camping, doing all the birthday things together, Disneyland and more. Made a concerted effort to take the kids out for a meal and Pizza Hut was the natural choice, due to the half price vouchers that are going round on email. We, as always, had a good laugh together, the kids are like cousins together and Nikki and I work well as a team in controlling them all in public places! Nikki’s wedding in May, I'm chief bridesmaid so watch this space for photos…

On Wednesday we went to the open evening of The Academy – the school which Luke goes to and quite probably will be Eli’s secondary school too. It’s only 12 months old (Luke was one of the first intakes), is a new, flashy building and has a young, dynamic, lively, tanned teaching staff. It has more money than it knows what to do with (even employing toilet attendants, no less) and it has the most up to date facilities and enormous grounds. Great, but none of these things impress me – am not a materialistic person – and so it was with great interest that I listened to the Principal’s speech on Wednesday night, waiting to hear what she, and her designer suited staff, can offer my children. The school has ‘replaced’ a local comprehensive, an under-achieving school which had a reputation for very negative reasons. I’ll be honest, I’ve been worried about the ‘sort’ of kids that mine will be going to school with. The school that the Academy has replaced produced a lot of under achievers and truancy. Luke, the sheep, will be very easily led astray, so it was with baited breath that I sent him on his way in his blazer and tie a year ago. A year on and he’s doing astoundingly well in his subjects, getting higher grades than his targets. And that’s the measurement.

I’ve battled for the last few months about where to send Ellis. I want him to fulfil his potential and so always assumed that he’d go to the boys’ Grammar. One visit to the Academy and I'm now sure that he should join his brother there. Their structure, their policies, their ethos (what a great word!) suits me and my children’s life. We want to learn in a safe, friendly, fun environment, we want to reap rewards of hard work with tangible benefits (plus the very long school day of 8-5 means no homework!).

I went to a catholic girls’ school and, although I enjoyed it, I can see now that it was not as rounded an education as it could have been. I have fond memories of staff and pupils and on the few occasions that I've re-visited the school, I have enjoyed the memories that came flooding back. But my children were born in a different time to me, a different century almost, and, whilst faith and some old Victorian values are very personal to me, they’re not a part of Luke’s life, or Eli’s. My boys are so much smarter than I was, so much more streetwise, so much more popular and I’d be doing them an injustice if I tried to relive my teenage years through them. I want them to do well in sixth form and go on to uni, and if they’re the sort of people to want that then they’ll go. As MM says ‘Ellis will be Ellis, wherever he goes’. And so I base my decision about their secondary education on 21st century living (not swayed at all by the free breakfast provided at the Academy, get in!)

Ellis is doing the washing up, Luke’s doing very important things on the Playstation and Max keeps coming up to me and putting his arm around me. (There are very emotional decisions being made on X-Factor at the moment, Austin’s through, yay!) And I'm ignoring the monstrous pile of ironing and am really excited at what my boys have got to look forward to, even if they don’t know it yet.

Smart arse

Driving to Tesco earlier today, with Max in the back of the car. I was saying out loud what I needed to buy and he said, 'And a battery for my new toy'.

'Oh yes' I said, 'You remind me Max' (meaning when we got to Tesco).

'I just did'. Came his reply.

Yes, Max, you did.

Wednesday 1 October 2008

Keepers


Ellis, aged 10, in the car with Auntie Harriet, driving through Ashford.

'Look' he said, 'it's the Teacher Assistant centre'.

It wasn't, it was the TA (Territorial Army)...





Max, aged 3. I cooked him sausages for lunch and Max had two in bread rolls. He seemed to be enjoying his lunch so I asked him if they were nice:

'Malicious!' he said.


(Photo is of Max proudly displaying Humpty Dumpty that he made at nursery)



Tuesday 30 September 2008

Point in case


Luke has just waltzed downstairs with an armful of dirty football kit (note the time) and the suggestion of mild panic across his face, and said, I quote ‘will this be washed and dry for tomorrow morning?’

‘Will this be washed and dry for tomorrow morning’ !!!!

Whilst I crouched by the washing machine, waiting for the door to release – it does not like being disturbed once it’s got up to the programmed drying temperatures, drying cushion covers is so much nicer than washing filthy LFC kits – Luke also requested that I iron his ‘going out’ t-shirt as he’s got a birthday dinner to go to tomorrow. I did ask why he couldn’t do it.

‘Cos I don’t know how to.’
‘So you could make the effort to learn how.’
No audible response.
‘You can do loads of things if you take the time to learn’ I say.
‘But I know loads of things, I'm clever already. I know how to do some things that you don’t Mum’.
‘Yes Luke, but there’s nothing that you can do that I can’t learn’.

I was pleased with my reply and hoped that it would be one of those comments that would stick in his mind forever and be a vital building block of his eventual well rounded personality.


But of course he piped up with something about playing sodding football…. I’ll shut up and concede that the point was missed entirely and I’ll get on with ironing the shirt.

Warnings!

I'm exhausted and I can pin point the reason, in fact there are two. (Technically speaking there are three).

To anyone who plans to have children I wish to issue two friendly warnings:

a) Never underestimate how much washing you will do once you have kids.
b) Never underestimate how much food your [male] children will eat.

You can mentally prepare for the onslaught of dirty washing by imagining how much you’ll get, and even plan ahead for it by investing in a fancy pants machine, but you will not fail to be surprised, astonished even, at the sheer volume of dirty washing a child generates (multiply by number of kids). You may think ‘Oh, it might mean that I go from washing 3 or 4 times a week to perhaps 7’. That’s a reasonable assumption to make. However, so far, I have just put on wash number 3 of the day. And there’s more left in the basket. And today is very average. Now I'm not one of these mums that washes stuff after one wear but nearly all boys will find mess/dirt (and some wet their bed for years) and almost every boy will leave towels to fester in a heap in their bedrooms (on top of their dirty pants and socks, obviously). And then there’s getting all this washing dried, ironed and put away but that’s just a whole different ball game. Be warned!

As for the endless eating, here’s my coping mechanism: Get home from school and fill the kids up on muffins/crumpets/heavy duty cereal (I'm talking Shreddies, no sugar, obviously, or muesli) and then cook a huge dinner, usually filled out with rice or pasta, as quickly as possible. Cereal is then usually requested for ‘pudding’. I keep the fruit bowl stocked and the boys are welcome to eat as much as they like – on an average day I get through 8 apples, a bunch of grapes and a few bananas. The boys also get through nearly a loaf of bread a day. Oh, you gotta be rich to have boys!

Monday 29 September 2008

Ellis!!!



My middle son, Ellis, is a lore unto himself....Here is a photo of his old footie boots, which he took to upload onto ebay. His intention is to sell his (old, smelly, dirty) boots for hard cash.

Luke was watching the proceedings and commented to Eli that he couldn't sell dirty boots.

Ellis had it covered - this is what he'd typed in his description:

'Football boots, T90, size 5. Muddy but I will clean them'

Max reading

I've just listened to Max reading his school book, which he read with enthusiasm, great expression and gusto! I wrote down in his contact book that he read well and that we'd like a new book. I signed it 'Mum' and put a smiley face next to my name.

Max is very pleased with his efforts and has just awarded himself a sticker and took it upon himself to write in his contact book too:

Well dun max :-) xxx

Shaun the Sheep


I have just spent a delightful 20 minutes with my eldest. It was our 4 weekly ritual of cutting his hair (we’re so busy most days that Luke has to book an appointment!)

So we settle down in the kitchen and I clip his hair with the clippers up to the crown and then scissor the top and sides. His hair is really thick and takes me quite a while to do evenly. I positively make the most of my captured first born as it’s not very often he sits still and talks to me!

We discussed his friends’ haircuts and I do chuckle at the fact that Luke actually pretends to his friends that he goes to the barbers have his hair cut – admitting that your mum does it is secondary school suicide apparently. But whilst he would be the laughing stock if his mates knew that it was mum that did his barnet he does appreciate that I do a good job, albeit self taught and with plenty of less than satisfactory practises behind us….

Luke sits on the dining chair, happily chatting away about how his hair cut will be admired by the boys (‘did the ginger guy do it for you? He’s put a box shape in it’) and noticed by the girls. Luke is unashamedly a sheep and will do whatever is required to be accepted and liked. Me, being me and demanding answers and explanations to everything, used to be very fearful of Luke’s future for having such a, what I thought, narrow minded view of the world. I’ve always promoted questioning and being individual and, above all, autonomy.

Now Luke’s at big school I’ve mellowed. He’s so happy having a large set of friends, he’s popular and I'm grateful for that. In my day the kid with the divorced parents were the unpopular (often poor) ones that made their lonely way home on the bus on their own. I see Luke with his friends and he’s in his element. He’s a lucky boy.

I'm happy that he likes my haircut, even if he does pretend to his mates that a bloke did it at that cool place opposite the train station for 15(!) quid!

Saturday 27 September 2008

Saturdays and Football


Saturdays are Dad's day, ie the boys spend the day with their father. He lives a few short miles away and the boys are very close to him. By 10am my boys have been collected and are usually on their way to Eli's football match. I would ordinarily get on with the business that is 'me time' however today I wanted my 'me time' to be spent enjoying my boys, or at least being a supporter on the touch line. This morning was beautiful and sunny and crips and fresh and warm and I enjoyed watching (most of) the match, even though, despite having been a footie mum for 8 years now, I still do not understand most of the rules...I don't need to and in fact, I've decided that it's better that I'm ignorant as it keeps me slightly removed from what is the boys' and their dad's shared interest. I enjoy watching X-Factor on a Saturday night with the boys, Dad enjoys footie with them.

Also, being so girlie and useless (Luke actually encouraged me to try some keepie upies this morning and was very disappointed, frustrated and ultimately embarrassed by me) means that my boys really do impress me even more. Luke is 12, Ellis nearly 11 and so when they know more about something than I do it fills me with pride that they're growing into young men now. It's so easy to keep a baby image, well toddler at least, in my mind's eye, but days like today, when they're absorbed in a game I don't understand (but nevertheless enjoy watching) and commenting to their dad about 'free kicks' and 'off side' I can stand back and just watch. I'm not involved, I'm just a spectator and in my experience that's usually the best place for a mum to be.

(Photo is of our visit to Wembley stadium last month to watch Soccer Aid, which they enjoyed even with me being more interested in the mexican wave than of the match...!)

Sugar rush

I want to type that not every day is filled with laughter….but no day could possibly be. I’ve had a pretty rubbish time of things with Max since he came out of school yesterday and all I seem to have done is moan and nag and shout at him. I gave him his pocket money that my nan, GP, gave him and he spent a quid of it on chocolate. He got a sugar rush which mixed with my fretful mood like water and oil. Soon after the rush came the down and we had tears…bloody chocolate is evil stuff to a six year old on a Friday afternoon and there should be a health warning on the packet. (To be fair my mood was not the best this afternoon having actually got sucked in to [buying!!!!] a loyalty card from The Body Shop. I only went in there for a sniff and maybe some free samples and ideas for my sister’s birthday, and came out with a very expensive eyeshadow, which incidentally was not the same one as the sample that I tried, and a loyalty card which promises free gifts and 10% off purchases but plays down the fact that I have to spend 50 quid before I'm entitled to a fiver’s worth of Body Shop loveliness – nothing in the shop costs less than 8 quid as far as I could see…
I digress, I have found that at least two of my children are very ‘sugar sensitive’, I can even tell when they’ve had too much ketchup as their moods are elevated and their energy levels soar before tantrums and tears. The knowledge that food does have an effect on children’s behaviour, and that of adults too probably, is a great tool to have when managing (is that the right word?) kids. We eat a well balanced diet and I'm pretty strict with what I call crap food (processed, fatty, sugary). They eat tons of fruit and are healthy on it. I also know that giving the boys a meat and two (or four) veg kind of dinner calms them.

So when I look back on Max’s strop yesterday I almost (ALMOST) forgive him as I know that it’s my own stupid fault for letting him eat crap. I shall experiment further…

Friday 26 September 2008

DIARY OF ONE MUM

I've kept diaries for years. Every one of them for different reasons usually. Some to document my own school holiday, some to make sense of teenage angst, some to document pregnancies, some to cry into and another one to make scribbles about the funny things that kids do. If there's one thing that I want to read back when I'm old and grey it will be the chuckles, the smiles and the belly laughs that my children have given me. And so I write them down, scribbles, scrawls on the backs of old shopping receipts, anything to hand, just to capture when and how my boys made me laugh. Like the time when I was in my car sitting in a traffic queue. The car in front was a learner and Ellis, aged 9 and sitting next to me, read out the sticker: 'Please be patient, you were a learner once'. Ellis, very seriously commented 'No I wasn't'.


Me and max (3) in my car, driving along and I was teasing him a bit.
'Don't tease me mum' he said.
'Sorry Max, I won't tease you anymore'
'I don't like teasing' he said
'I know, sorry'
'But I do like Maltesers'

Or Max, aged 5, riding his scooter - 'Mum I'm puffed out. How do I get puffed in?'

Luke, aged 9, wanting to watch Dr Who on the telly cos he'd heard that the 'garlics' were going to be on...

Putting on Max's shoes when he was 3 and we were messing around, having a giggle. 'What are we like?!' I said. Max replied 'Chocolate'.

My life, today, goes something like this: Wake at 6.30am, get kids up, get their breakfast, do their lunches, get the washing on, do the washing up, iron uniform as necessary, fill out permission slips and consent forms that weren't produced the previous night, hunt for missing bits of desperately needed (and lost) football kit, get myself looking presentable, get washing out and more washing in and then we can finally leave the house at 8am. Do the school run, having run into Sainsbury first for an emergency pressie as we've nearly always forgotten someone's birthday, school drop off and then I get 20 minutes of pure me time whilst I drive to work, listening to my tunes as loud as I can bear. I work from 9am to 3pm, doing a job I enjoy, with people I love, in a very cool little corner of the world. I then have another 20 blissful minutes to myself whilst I head back to school to collect my brood. It might take half an hour to gather all of said brood, with their accompanying bits, bobs, books and homework (we hardly ever come home with a full uniform) and then it's often another trip to Sainsbury for something that I'd forgotten on the Big Shop, or it might be that I've run out of cat food, so invariably 'nipping in for cat food' turns into a stressful half hour trying to coax the boys away from the CDs and then bribing them with sweets, all the while the pressure's on to get home and present my family with a hot, nourishing, cheap and, most of all, quick dinner so the pace is fast and furious as we're also beating the clock cos Ellis has footie practise in a while too. Quick call from the car to my [infirm] mum to see if she needs anything, and sometimes she will need shopping or she'll ask me to go round cos she can't get a jar open. Or I'll get mum some electric put on her key so the boys and I do that before we can go home. Now the pace really hots up as I march straight to the kitchen and turn the oven on before I've taken my jacket off; I'm also pulling out the washing from the machine and throwing it over radiators whilst ignoring my children. Dinner is cooked at the same time that the phone is pressed to my ear sorting out a new car insurance policy or phoning British Gas to ask why they've suddenly taken £92 out of my account this month as opposed to the agreed £65. I get a text from a dear friend, asking if I'm free for coffee, I stand still and try to figure out when I might be able to do that but then my thought is interrupted when Ellis comes into the kitchen to say 'I've got training soon mum, is dinner nearly ready?'. So dinner will be served (to the boys) whilst I am still on hold to British Gas...whilst on hold I might as well clean the loo and bathroom, by which time it's time to go out again, picking up Eli's friends as I go. Footie training finishes at 8am, by which time Marin might be down for a visit and so I'll greet him with a head full of 'things still to do' and ask him if he'll kindly pick up ellis whilst I get on with our dinner. (I actually love cooking for Marin so that bit's not a chore). I'll do more laundry whilst waiting for dinner to cook and, if I'm really lucky, will have time to hear Max read before I jump in the shower at 9pm. I'll eat at 9.30 and then a glass of wine signifies the end of my day and I can finally sit on my sofa until my body caves and orders me to bed...

That's my day, nearly every single day. And it's my life; we are the choices that we make and I've made some right cracking ones! But my life is busy and so I find my energy from the things my boys say and do that make me laugh. Life is all about balance and I just hope that I'm getting it right!