Legacies

      Legacies

      We all want to be remembered, immortality is something we all crave. I am sure most of us have thought about how we would like to be remembered, what we want people to think of us, how large the guest list will be at our own funerals. I think kindness is the best legacy to leave behind. I don't mean a kind gesture thrown in for good measure amongst many selfish choices, true kindness. The willingness to always go an extra step for someone. Are people ever remembered for kindness? Is it not the cruelties in life that seem to be remembered.

   

     Do we remember the people that have always held our hand, always picked us up when we fell? Or do we remember those that scolded and broke our hearts only to apologise so convincingly that we forgive? Perhaps those people change, perhaps they never make that same mistake again, however do we remember the people who have never done us harm above those that have? I think we favour the cruel and the kind are forgotten. Is this because we all have faults and meeting someone kind to their core intimidates us? Do we refuse to believe that they are that godly that we create faults for them? Maybe we crave adventure and danger so we live life always a little in the red, or perhaps those kind natured individuals are boring and easily forgotten.

       What if memory and trauma are linked, for example if I asked you to recall where you were when the twin towers fell the majority of people will be able to recall very specific details from that horrific day. The same could be said if you were involved in another traumatic event perhaps you caught your husband having an affair, or your child was committed to hospital- the details of which are so fresh and clear. However if I asked you to conjure a happy memory could you give specific dates and details surrounding the event?

    So in conclusion if we want to leave behind a legacy, if we want to be remembered, is kind hearted ness the most effective route to take? Maybe we should all take a moment to remember the many good and beautiful people in the world: lets create new legacies.

"No legacy is so rich as honesty" - William Shakespeare

"Be the change you want to see in the world."- Gandhi 

Book review

The Fault in Our Stars
By John Green

     The only way I can start this review is with a warning- Beware this book WILL break your heart. I was a wreck. Turning the page became a blur of words behind my tears, towards the end I struggled to read on mainly because I new what was coming, a struggle I concurred not unlike like Hazels "18 steps". Please don't construe this as a negative review: John Green is undoubtedly a genius, he made me feel more than any other book has. I fell in love with the characters and mourned them, I felt every word.
    Hazel is the likeable girl next door with terminal cancer, she argues with her parents, watches Americas next top model and enjoys "cancer perks". She meets Augustus in "Gods heart" and he immediately settles in the readers as well as Hazels heart alike. Handsome, funny, clever and he "had a touch of osteosarcoma" which left him with one leg. Along the way you meet Isaac who adds to the selflessness you find in Augustus and Hazel.
   Their story is utterly beautiful a tragic love story, Romeo and Juliet for 2013. It is not all loveable characters though the villain is created in the form of an author named Mr Van Houten. Ironic that the villain is an author- as the real villain in any novel is always the author because they create the tragedy. However for me Van Houten helps the story in numerous ways when we read Hazel shouting "no that's not acceptable" we see her as more than a cancer victim when its followed by "bullshit" we no longer think of her as a weak. She is standing her ground, she is using abusive language, she is human. For me it was Van Houten's story that truely brought me to heaving, heavy sobs.
     The book is filled with metaphors and amazing quotes. When the couple visit Amsterdam and go to view the Anne Frank museum Hazel describes that Anne "almost lived" a very apt and heartbreaking mirror to the last third of the novel. My favourite quote throughout the whole book without a doubt, is John Greens description of Amsterdam "Amsterdam is like the rings of a tree: it gets older as you get closer to the centre"
     Now comes the question would I recommend this book? I undoubtedly would, go out and buy it but buy a box of tissues and don't think you will turn the last page unaffected.

Musical magic

It's a kind of magic

    Often as a child I would practice my magic, not the magician type- with a white rabbit being forced out of an unlikely large hat. Real magic, Sabrina the teenage witch and Harry Potter kind of stuff. I refused to believe that I was destined to live my life as an average girl, surely my destiny was to have magic in my fingertips. Sadly not, eventually I came to terms with the fact that I could not make things appear with the sweep of my finger, or the wrinkle of my nose. However magic still exists, everywhere magic is happening all over the world.
    One of the daily magical encounters that occur is time travel. I am immediately transported to a place and time in my past at any time of the day. The way that I achieve this is through music. Music has time travel abilities. For example when I hear the voice of the righteous brothers belting out "you've lost that loving feeling," I am transported back 17 years. The smell of cigarettes sticking to the fabric of the car, its a warm day we are sat in a traffic jam my mother is in the passenger seat in the front of the old beat up Mercedes. I am sat in the middle between my brothers, my dad is driving he turns the volume up full blast, his hips are thrusting from side to side as we sit amongst the traffic. He screams "BABY, BABY I BEG YOU PLEASE" he's banging on the steering wheel, he doesn't care who hears or sees, his head banging just about in time with the music. My brothers and I laugh and giggle in the back while my mother does the air guitar. Of course 'achy beaky heart' and 'yellow polka dot bikini' bring back other memorable moments, but sadly I won't embarrass my father by sharing them.
    Music can transport us anywhere, the musicians who create it are wizards using words and sounds to spin a spell, a spell which whenever we hear it again can move us in more ways than one. The magic music holds isn't purely time travel, it also has the ability to make us cry, laugh or even feel empowered. It's so powerful that the witches/ wizards can use their words or instruments to control our feelings. I can be sat in my car having had the worst day. My life feels its getting away from me, tears prick my eyes, I change the radio station. The music kicks in I hear the initial "oh," the drumming rhythm starts my hips moving EMF sing "your unbelievable" and I smile, that's it my mood has dissolved. I am tapping my fingers, nodding my head and singing at the top of my Voice. Who said you can't dance while sitting down- I am rocking this! The song continues and I am free from problems "the things you say.... your unbelievable," and the sound pauses cutting back in making my body buzz with excitement. I am happy!
   I have so many songs that hold so many memories and create different emotions. For example James Blunts carry you home- it gives me goosebumps all over my arms, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and it reduces me to child like sobs. The words 'as strong as you were, tender you go' get me every time. I am listening to it now as I write and my arms are pricking, my fingers tingling, shivers sweep up and down my spine and my eyes are filling... That's enough of that let me share an up beat musical memory- it was summer and we all had got a copy of Dirty Dancing soundtrack, we are up the field. I have brought my portable CD player and speakers, we put on 'hey baby' pretending to be on the notorious 'log'. We strut our stuff thinking we are the bees knees gyrating up and down shaking our booties, pretending not to notice the attention we were getting from the boys. Good times.
     The final musical memory i will share with you is a frustrating one. My husband and I got married four years ago, my husband had very little input into the wedding through his own choice. I asked him to pick 'our song', I was hoping he would pick one to make me swoon. Unfortunately he drew a blank claiming I was much better at that sort of thing. I chose Taylor Swift 'love story' as it is very similar to our own 'love story'. The wedding went well, two days later we sat in the car and my husband declared
"I liked the song you chose for us, but the one I would have picked is Goo Goo Dolls Iris it says everything I feel about you" I did swoon but two days late! Now however Iris to me is our song, every time I hear it the volume is turned up, the butterflies flutter and I gush at my husbands (all be it late) romantic gesture.

Mums ill!

Mum's ill!!!

       Something that I dread is illness, it maybe very selfish but although I hate the children suffering, seeing their little noses glow and their eyes hang with deep circles, Or my husband lying on the sofa their painful moans tug at my heart strings. However the worst person to be ill by far is me, the mother. The reason for this is not because I can't cope with the pain, or because I get it worse than anyone else. I purely can't be ill, I am not allowed. Lets do a comparison......

   One of the children has a sickness bug. My poor baby has a high temperature and all they want is a cuddle. I hold them tight and when they fall off to sleep I frantically run around the house- hoovering, washing, dusting, cleaning bathrooms and preparing tea, all the usual daily chores. When I hear a moan from the sofa I rush to my babies aid. When they feel ready to eat I prepare a healthy, light meal of their choice brought to them on the sofa, creatively cut into a smiley face. A drink of very weak squash with a sparkly straw to cheer them up is presented. When my husband gets home, tea is cooking in the oven the house is tidy so I leave him to cuddle the poorly baby on the sofa while I take the dog for a quick sprint to wear her out.

  Oh lord, the husbands ill! He's still in bed when its time for work, I try to question if he's ok and receive a grunt which my well trained ears translate to "not well" and he disappears under the covers. The morning routine begins,a frantic rush of breakfast, hair and disappearing shoes. As I am in the middle of ripping apart the cupboard looking for a little black school shoe, heavy footsteps on the stairs can be heard, a sorrowful sigh escapes with every step. I glance around to see my husband wrapped in a dressing gown he never wears, his eyes barely open and the sides of his mouth so far down they are almost dragging on the floor.
"Are you ok?" A grunt escapes signally "no!" And he moves on slowly to the sofa. Ah I found it,  the shoe, a rush to put it on my youngest daughter. Just as I think we can leave for school my husband finds his voice.
"Can I have a coffee please?" I smile a 'of course', its not as though its time for me to take the kids to school. Couldn't he have waited ten minutes before he got up? I realise I am being mean, he's ill. I bring his coffee through just as I part my lips to tell the children it's time to go, my darling husband asks "can I have a blanket, I am cold." I zoom up the stairs- tripping a little and feeling embarrassed. I hand him the blanket and shoot out the words "time to go!" before he can ask anymore of me. He looks at me sadly "oh I was going to ask for some toast,"
"I will be back in ten minutes and I will make you some ok?," that's it we are out of the door.
    I spend the day doing the usual chores, and being called upon to perform various tasks for the patient. He spends the day on the sofa, ignoring the baby and watching various action movies. He doesn't sleep and thankfully isn't sick anymore, he manages a huge lunch of egg, bacon, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast and beans. I leave to pick the children up from school. When I return the sofa is empty, the telly still on- Vin Diesel performing a car stunt. The spare duvet has been thrown to the corner, I check the bathroom, nothing. I go upstairs and see the shape of his body under our covers.
"Are you ok?" I ask
"I felt tired again thought I would have a nap," I say nothing. Convenient timing I can't help thinking. He emerges at tea time playful and very hungry. He declares he is feeling much better!

     A day later it begins, the children are asleep and a tummy ache is creeping in. I ignore it, no, I can't be ill. Throughout the night frequent visits to the bathroom confirm my worst fears, I have the sick bug. My husband asks if I am ok when my shuffling or loud toilet visit disturbs him. When morning arrives in the form of the children at 6am, the realisation dawns it is a school day. My husband is already up and getting ready for work. I drag my aching body out of bed to throw clothes on myself and the youngest two.
    My energy is minimal and my facial expression is set to frown! As I slowly make my way to the kitchen my husband asks
 "do you have a tummy ache? Are you cold? Do you feel sick?" When I confirm all of his questions he replies with "yep that's what I had, but I had it worse. Anyway I am off to work hope you feel better," and he's gone. My whole body sighs. I manage to prepare breakfast for everyone and divulge myself in some toilet time.
    When the eldest two are at school, the younger two and I get stuck into a duvet day. We watch movies and they eat a picnic of sandwiches in the living room. However mums can never have a complete duvet day, I struggle to put a load of washing on shoving it in the tumble dryer even though the sun is out. I rush the Hoover around after the picnic turns into a scattering of crumbs.
   With the children home and my husband back. Resentment has taken refuge in side my tummy, he asks "what's for tea?" Not how are you? Not even wow you hoovered! I spitefully spit "whatever you are cooking, I am off to bed!" Up I go slowly holding the banister as my temperature makes me dizzy. I peel back the covers and feel my body relax, I sleep for two hours until the kids bed time.
    I am awoken by my daughter standing over my head whispering over and over "mummy, mummy are you awake?" I grunt and open my eyes. She begins to whine
"Daddy's putting us to bed without a bath, I can't sleep without a bath! And Suzi tripped me up and he didn't tell her off, mummy will you read us a story?" I heave myself out of bed and read them a story and head straight back to bed. I sleep like a baby for the rest of the night.
    I wake up transformed, I am a new woman refreshed and ready for action. This is a good job because as I come skipping down the stairs I am faced with a dinning table still set for tea. Beans and egg splattered all over the wood. Chips strewn on the floor. I enter the kitchen pots and pans sit in the sink, everything seems to have been removed from the cupboards and placed on the work surface. The living room floor is strewn with toys, crisps and chocolate wrappers as well as coffee mugs. I decide not to thank my husband for letting me have an early night!

Bedtime stories

Reading to children.

Reading to your children, I feel is one of the most important things parents do for their children. It goes along with feeding, washing and clothing them. I am hugely passionate about books, not the e books you stare at on your iPad or kindle (though I am guilty of purchasing the odd one, for convenience). I am talking about the physical book, the one you hold and bend down the pages to mark where you are, the one that becomes worn and torn with each new read, a book is something you share. The smell of a real book is heavenly its musky light pong, unattainable. A computer screen can never compete.

I read to my children every night (except lazy Fridays, where we par- take in a family movie). We read everything from comics to classics. I am currently half way through Roald Dahl's Matilda with my girls, and one third of the way through the children's bible with the boys. We read at night after tea and bath. We curl up on their bed and read sometimes only a chapter sometimes a few chapters. It's quality time that we all enjoy after a hard day of being sat in a classroom and cleaning, cooking and general Mary Poppins behaviour.

Now for the statistics: 33% of parents read to their children everyday. Is this true? I don't expect every parent to read to their child everyday, we all do things differently after all. However I did think the percentage would be much higher. 1 in 3 children don't own a book. Don't have a book! This is ludicrous how can anyone not own a book? Each of my children own a small library, a book brand new maybe on the pricey side, especially for parents on a strict budget. However you can go to a second hand book shop or a jumble sale and pick one up for 50p. According to surveys parents reasons for not reading to their young are "they hadn't thought of doing so," perhaps if you haven't been read to and you don't read it is likely that the thought never occurred to you. Another reason is time- parents feel there isn't enough hours in the day as it is (I can vouch for that with four children an extra two hours would suffice), the thought of fitting in a story seems un achievable. I urge you leave the washing up, the bin will still be full when you come down stairs, that phone call can still be made ten minutes later, go upstairs and read- it need only be for ten minutes. Of course delegation is always a good idea. On the nights that my husband is home in time for story he will either read to them or, pick up where I left off with the evening chores. If you do it for your children, your children are more likely to do it for their children and so the written word will not be lost, a generation of new readers will be born.

Children grow up so quickly if your lucky the one on one intimate time lasts a year- maybe two. Settling down to read a book with my eight year old is quality snuggle time. We sit down close, all squidged around the open book cuddling and enjoying. I began reading to my children as early as a year old, touch and feel books are fabulous, as are animal books they very quickly pick up animal noises and other words with you pointing and repeating. Reading to your child also gives them a head start in education, it teaches them speech, language and the skill of constructing a sentence. It has been proven that children that have been read to before beginning pre-school are more likely to excel in all aspects of early education. We are not born with the knowledge of how to read a book, however reading to your child encourages them to turn a page and read text from left to right.

I can't stress how important reading to our little ones is. With computers and mobile phones taking centre stage in our lives, we are at risk of losing the beauty buried in the written word. Classics that have been around for centuries are at a threat of being left on the shelf, never being enjoyed again. A book means so much more than a movie, it stays with you all your life, clings to your heart strings. A book influences and teaches its reader, we can't bring the next generation up illiterate.

Education wars

The weapon that is Education.

     Numerous Governments- for a long time have talked about implementing changes to the length of holidays, I remember this from my school days. 'Children have it too easy, lets reduce the summer holidays,' there is one main problem with this sentence, look again can you spot it? The word 'children'. Of course children have it easy, and they should. Being a child is the best years of our lives, do we really want to put adult pressures on four year olds? Growing up- paying bills, tax, cleaning, cooking lasts sixty odd years, we are children for 16 short years let them savour it.
     Already children are having to make adult decisions at such young ages, year 9 pupils are having to choose subjects which they will sit GCSE's in. They have discussions about which career they would like and are guided to choose subjects along those lines, at 13! A career that you won't start for 5 years minimum. At 13 I wanted to be a singer I couldn't sing, but that didn't matter to me I still wanted to be a singer. Were you going to tell me at such a young and impressionable age- that my dream will never happen? That i should concentrate on something more 'reliable' more 'stable'Shattering an already hormone ridden girls ambition.
    We are constantly being told that teenage pregnancy is high, surely a factor in this is young adults becoming sexually active as children. Is this due to the fact that they are growing up to quickly? Do they have too much adult like pressure placed on them? So how are we proposing to tackle this? By increasing school hours, putting more pressure on them and less free time to be children.
   Adults fixate too much on who is better, who is sitting around and not achieving, are we really now going to turn on our children? I would like my children to have a childhood like my own. Freedom to ride their bikes, climb trees, disappear for hours in a field building dens - only to come home when they are hungry. This can't happen because parents are terrified that a peadophile lurks in a bush waiting to snatch our precious kids. Maybe the current Government should focus on that rather than giving our children a 9-5 commitment everyday. The problem I have with my children doing more hours with less holiday is I want to be the one to parent my children, share their experiences and teach them right from wrong, I want to spend time and mould them into who they will become. I don't want teachers to play every role in my child's life. I didn't have children to enjoy their first three to four years, and then only see them for bedtime and weekends.
    Yes I am sure longer hours at school will help working parents, because the cost of childcare is so expensive- however I did not have children so that the impact on my life would be minimal. Children are a life changing blessing, that does not last forever if my children are having to spend longer away from me- those years will be forgotten so much quicker.
    If the longer school hours are being introduced to create better results, perhaps tackling the educational problems within schools is a more appropriate solution. Such as: more one on one attention for every child not just the disruptive ones, more sport, music and cooking. Don't get me wrong an extra half an hour I am not against, if my children are going to benefit. I could even be persuaded to back a half day on a Saturday (like private schools) on the condition that- like private schools they are spent on sporting activities. Competitive leagues between schools in numerous sports such as cricket, netball, hockey, football etc, would be hugely beneficial and opportunities for parents to watch the matches on a Saturday would be massively rewarding.
      However altering school holidays I feel is not productive. As a chid I would count down the days until the holidays, without them school would drone on and on. Children need to rest, as a parent I notice- when the end of term approaches my children begin to be tired and irritable, they lose interest in their school work. The holidays offer a refreshing rest. If they were substantially shortened I feel parents, children and results would suffer hugely thus our education system would be in jeopardy. An idea I have is that our children would benefit from a 'summer school' during the long summer holidays, an opportunity for children to volunteer to do some educational activities, such as dance, sporting activities and so on. A chance to socialise and learn a new skill and also break up the holiday. I don't feel it should be compulsory nor should it be all day five days a week and importantly it should be free!
      If we want to improve our educational system perhaps we should look at Finland- they rank top in the world. They pride themselves on offering a high standard of education to everyone, no prejudice put on wealth, religion, origin etc. I know living in England, if I could afford it my children would go to private school, they offer higher standard of education more competitive sports, music and Drama activities weekly or sometimes daily. It is also known that 80% of those who hold key positions in Britain went to private school. Finland also instead of increasing time spent at school have reduced it to just four hours per day, but still their children achieve highly. I think this is definitely something our Government needs to consider before they increase our babies work load.

Childcare

  The Baffling World Of Childcare.

      Once I had finally made the decision which childcare I was going to choose, life was much easier. I attended college when Suzi was 10 months old, spending three days away from her. Financially, we could not afford a nursery and I was keen to have family members help out, this was purely due to the fact that she was so young and it was only three days a week, and my Mum, Mother in law and close friend were keen to help. Suzi really enjoyed her few days away from me; she quickly became very independent and confident. After a year, Michael was doing really well in his job and we decided it would be good for Suzi to start interacting with other children. When she was two I began looking at childcare options. I explored all the available options. I had worked with a childminder previously, looking after about five children in her own house. The children attended on a daily basis;  some before, some after school. It was lovely they became a family, the children were very comfortable and used her house as they would their own, she was almost a surrogate mum. She lived on a farm and the children played outside and helped feed the chickens and rabbits.  They would go for daily walks and role-play together in the house, setting up shops and so on. We wanted Suzi to go somewhere structured, with more of a routine. My theory was this would help her adjust to school later on.

     I had also worked in a nursery and really enjoyed it. The children were encouraged to be independent- hang up their coats, remove their outside shoes and wash their hands before eating. Education was taught subtly, without pushing it on the children at too young an age. For example, finding their names, tracing pictures, ball skills and colour matching. They would have a letter of the week and be asked to bring in items beginning with that letter. I also liked the fact that different children went on different days, encouraging Suzi to be sociable, not sticking to one friend all day, every day. I felt this was the best option for Suzi, she liked to be independent and would thrive in this environment.

    I was right she loved it. Once I knew this was the right option our other three children would follow. Although Oscar is not old enough yet, he will attend a nursery next year. It was a time that I thoroughly enjoy with them. Parents evenings are held, which allowed us to view their activities and the milestones they had reached.  Best of all, each milestone was photographed and put in a book. Looking at the pictures of what our children get up to when I am not around is a very odd. The reminder that they are little people, no longer a part of me, they have their own  voices and ideas when I am not around! As you can imagine these books are kept locked away, safe and sound. Sometimes we pull them out and re-live  times which seem to  have gone in a blink.

    One of the best things about this particular Nursery for me is Sports Day. So many nurseries and schools have made Sports Day non-competitive, or a day where everyone has to be a ‘winner’, or they just no longer have Sports Day. I believe l this is a terrible! No way does it reflect life.  Like it or not, life is extremely competitive and if our children believe they will achieve without trying, how can they become ambitious adults? I love sports days I think my children have only won about three events, but hearing them say "I got distracted, I know what to do better next year," or watching them practice weeks before, determined to get that first prize sticker makes me proud. I also love the look on their faces when I am sitting at the edge of the grass with my camera, even when they miss the word 'go' and are left at the start line waving and blowing kisses for me to catch.

    Another joy is the nativity play. For me Christmas isn't Christmas without a children’s nativity play. A lot of hard work for the staff, but the fact that they continue to come up with slightly altered versions of the same play, year after year, is so touching. The children love it, with the exception of the odd one that spots his/her parent and cries throughout the play! Or the poor little mite who, even though the teacher has made it clear that they must go to the loo before the performance, wets him/herself and has to be escorted off stage
    Something which immediately draws me to a nursery is the location, primarily the safety factor. However well staffed and with locks on every door, too high for a child to reach, I will worry. In my mind my child is Houdini (in reality they struggle to turn a door handle) and if he/she gets out what danger lurks ?  ‘Our’ nursery is on a farm at the end of a long track, traffic is minimal so a collision with a car speeding through the village is unlikely. There are not likely to be unexpected visitors using a nearby car park or attraction.  The only people in the vicinity of the nursery are the staff or other parents.

. The first consideration when we choose a nursery is the staff.  If I am greeted by someone who seems bored or disinterested, no matter how amazing the setting, our child will not be attending. Children are so precious, so priceless, they deserve one hundred percent commitment from their carers.

     A nursery’s decor is very important. Colour - no one wants their child attending a dull and dreary nursery. I like to see individual places for various activities so that I know my child is going to have a full day and not just be plonked somewhere doing the same thing all day. An big, fenced outside play area - a grassy area for rolling, reading and other activities is a massive plus. Our children take after their father and love to be outside. A hard-play area for riding peddle bikes and tractors and drawing shadows is great.     As I was not working, I was able to pick and choose the times they attended nursery. The first three have been lucky to begin with just three mornings a week. Long enough to settle, get to know the staff and take part in activities. After their first term two of the days were bumped up to  include lunch. All our children have really loved lunch at nursery it made them feel grown up, and their table manners improved dramatically. After another term, if they seemed ready, afternoon sessions were added to the two days on which they had lunch.  I believe attending the nursery for a full day during the second year prepared them for the full day they were soon to have at school.

Kids in mind: Pregnancy and Labour

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Kids in mind: Pregnancy and Labour: My labour stories. Suzi.  arrived a day late. I had been sure she would arrive at least a week...

Kids in mind: Where did the time go???

Kids in mind: Where did the time go???: 8 years! 8 short years is how long I have been a mummy (not the toilet roll accessorising kind a mother). In those 8 years I h...

Where did the time go???

8 years! 8 short years is how long I have been a mummy (not the toilet roll accessorising kind a mother). In those 8 years I have been blessed with 4 beautiful children, I have 2 girls and 2 boys. Some would say I have seen my fair share of everything child related from numerous A and E visits to being poked in the eye consecutively just for a bit of piece and quiet.
However there is still one thing I cannot solve, one thing I am desperate for the secret to, one thing that has left me completely and utterly stumped! Where does the time go? Before the children were born I heard this phrase from numerous people at different occasions I would usually smile in agreement and sometimes reply with "yes today has gone quick" or "time flies when your having fun". But I never fully understood what happened to one of the most logical and understandable things human kind concocted until I was blessed with my little time wasters. You may be horrified at the term 'time wasters' being used on my own children but I use it in an affectionate way. I have often and I am sure I am not alone got stuck into cleaning the cooker your up to your elbows in grease and grime from last weeks (and the week before if your honest) roast dinner. The power spray is foaming and you are scrubbing realisation of why you were putting this job off dawning on you. Your 1 year old is asleep your not going to hear from him for at least an hour, your 3 year old is in front of the telly peppa pig on a loop snack, drink all within his easy reach and you put him on the loo before you started you should have 20 minutes to get this job done before he gets bored. The scrubbing is in full swing when in he walks in "mummy" his voice rising at the end you don't look at him, head stuffed in the oven, you hear the peppa pig theme tune, a new episode he will hear it and retake his seat in the sitting room. He doesn't!
"Mummy I want you sit down with me, I want tuddle (cuddle) pleeeeease" don't look at him you know if you look at him, at that blonde hair and big brown eyes you will give in you will stop. "Mummy I want a tuddle" he's crying you come out of the oven and look at his baby face the chubby hold still on his neck and wrists these years go so quickly and you had sworn u would enjoy every cuddle before they stopped wanting them. One cuddle won't make to much difference after all a cuddle only lasts 5 minutes. You take off your marigolds "5 minutes 1 peppa pig episode ok" I am saying this for my benefit more than his. "Ok mummy" he beams that huge smile and jumps up and down on the spot with excitement.
Do you sit for 5 minutes? Do you sit for 1 episode? No he sits so perfectly still holding you so tight that you both fall asleep before Peppa finds the ball in the tall grass. You wake up in a panic just before you have to leave to pick up the girls from school - where did the time go I haven't checked more than 3 things off my to do list.
This is one example of how time disappears another is the one that I struggle with the most the one that truly stumps me. We walk to school on my own it takes 3 minutes with the children it takes 5. We like to arrive at school at 8.35am logic tells you we should leave the house at 8.30, so putting shoes and coats on at 8.25 should allow us to leave on time. After all my 8 year old and 5 year old are more than capable of putting their shoes and coats on themselves. We start putting shoes on at 8.25, we leave the house between 8.40 and 8.45 15 to 20 minutes it takes my children to put their shoes and coats on. Their shoes which are in the cupboard exactly the same place everyday however they insist on asking me where they are every morning. Any logical person would look at this and say its a simple case of time management you want to be there at 8.35 it takes 5 minutes to walk., 20 minutes to put shoes on start putting shoes on at 8.10. So we do just that what do you imagine happens? You would not be foolish to think that it took them 40 minutes to put there shoes on, had this happened I would have concluded that this was a conspiracy the children had concocted to send me crazy. Sadly no this didn't happen we were all set and ready at 8.13. 3 minutes!!!! We were at school for 8.21 the gates were locked we were forced to stand outside freezing in the snow for 15 minutes the children sobbing that they were cold and asking "why did we have to leave so early?" So I ask again what cruel joke does time insist on playing with parents and why?
You would also not be completely foolish in thinking that when the weekends come around and my husband is home surely the task of getting out of the house is much easier. The cruel dictator of time must allow us to half our personal best when there is a dependable, organised male in the house. The answer is no it gets even more baffling, husbands need 40 minutes to get themselves ready to leave the house, but they can't share the children's 40 minutes, they can't occupy themselves while you get the children ready. No that is far to straight forward they demand a whole 40 minutes of their own usually whilst you are sat in the car waiting. That makes 80 minutes over an hour to get 4 children and a 30 year old man out of the house. Illogical!

Budget, budget and budget!

I live in a large house that costs more than you spend in a year to run, I have a hobby for every day of the week, my children are fully grown or go to private school and I am going to tell you that you don't know what budgeting is!

I have 4 children, I live in a house that is a wreck the kitchen falls apart every time you open a cupboard or a drawer, the carpets need replacing and the garden is a tip literally! i Am embarrassed to invite guests over. My husband works his bottom off so I can stay at home and be a full time mummy. He has his own company that I make calls do the accounts and any general paperwork etc that needs doing. I pay the bills buy the food and budget for clubs and food. Although I am supposed to take advice from you.

The hardest part about being a mummy is guilt. We struggle financially sometimes, not always I am very lucky that my husband works very hard and is rewarded for his efforts. In times like these everyone with a young family budgets. Our budget sometimes isn't small enough and cuts are impossible to make. My daughters do ballet my eldest got a distinction in her exam and her ambition is to be the next Darcy Bussel. So when things get tough do I stop her lessons? I have cut my food bill by £50 by going shopping only when I need to and meal planning. We don't go out in the car unless it is necessary we walk to the shop if its just some milk or bread we need. We swim more (swimming is cheaper than the zoo). We havent had. Holiday in 3 years. Still I feel lazy and inadequate for not working or spending to much or having to many children.
Does the guilt ever stop? Does every mother feel it? Does the mother that I pass in the street dressed head to toe in Ralph Lauren clothing. Her hair coloured every 6 weeks her nails manicured every 3. Her children in boarding school for £30,000 a term a horse, a large immaculate house cleaned by a live in nanny for her 6 month old baby. Does she feel the guilt when she looks at me in disgust thinking that we have crawled out of some corner and knowing that my house is to small and untidy and my children are not appropriate marriage material for her little royal lovelies.
I am a good mother I know this and believe this. I check the ofsted scoring of my children's schools so they go to the best one in the area. I moved from an area that wasn't good for my husband so my family had the best start. I encourage manners, hand washing and good etiquette. My children do after school clubs as I believe it broadens their horizons, encourages them to meet new people and I hope gives them something to aspire to thus keeping them out of trouble as teenagers. I cook home made food from only British ingredients. Still I feel inadequate I don't work I don't contribute to the family pot. I do things for my husbands business and I am a partner but it doesn't feel enough. When we struggle for money and people pass criticism thinking "why don't you stop being so lazy and go to work". I know I wouldn't be able to find a job that would pay for my 2 youngest to go to nursery and give me a wage that makes it worth it they then reply with "you shouldn't of had so many children if you couldn't afford it!" And I am stumped what do I say we could afford it we have just hit a rough spot. It's not worth the energy so it goes unsaid.
Men don't seem to see this guilt when I discuss it with my husband he says "I don't want you to work" or "don't take any notice" whilst staring at the tv not making eye contact with me.

Budgeting is hard if it wasn't the government would not be so stumped with the recession. Why do we have to criticise and blame each other. Why do we have to look down our noses and judge. Why can't we sympathise and help each other share advice and lend a hand when we see someone struggle.

That was a day.....I have been robbed!

One day with a house full of children and a husband on the end of the phone making demands. Is less than 24 hours much less, everyday has a different number of minutes in an hour and hours in a day. Today was probably about 4 hours long.
I managed to have the children fed and in their clothes by 9 (it is the holidays after all) with the full intention of walking our loopy toodles before we headed to the park. Of course that didn't happen when have I ever made a plan that we stuck to? Michael insisted on me making very quick phone calls for him quick being 9- 11.30 am! The children amused themselves partly, running past shrieking "she spat on me" "he pushed me" while I try to come across as a professional laughing that my high spirited children had entered the room whilst trying to shoot lazors out of my eyes that stop the children in their tracks and glue them silently to their spot. I do not succeed they continue running and shouting like hooligans.
With the phone calls made my husband happy and me finally able to get out of my very attractive pyjamas I come down stairs to what only can be described as a tornados path. How could I not have noticed while I was on the phone pillows, clothes debris of jenga the lovely puppy has got to. Wait what was that amongst it all.... My business bank account fob in thousands of pieces on the floor. I turn to the dog the cute puppy that has made my crazy morning tip over the edge into a nightmare i am going to be late its 11.30 by the time the mess is tidied and lunch is eaten and cleared away, the park will not happen and i hate to let people down especially friends. The tips of my ears are hot and theirs no turning back "get out" I scream. The dg knows the drill she's been bad and the best thing to do is leave the room until my ears cool down.


How quickly it all changes sandwich lunch and a trip to the park, a hot chocolate, cake and adult conversation and I am back. The dog is walked bacon pasta for tea the tornado forgotten (but not completely gone...come on i am not superwoman) and its time for snuggles on the sofa before bed.

We all have our bad moments but its the good ones that we all remember I love my big/ little family and wouldn't have it any other way.

Introducing me...

Hi I thought I would start with introducing myself I have never blogged before and don't really know what I am doing but.... I am a mother of 4 children all under the age of 9 I have 2 cats sausage and peanuts (neither of which look anything like their edible names) and a 7 month old Labrador called Toodles