Thursday, 9 January 2014

routine


Routine!

At the heart of every routine is a mother trying to sleep. We all strive to have the most effective routine resulting in a consistent good night sleep. When I had my first child sleep deprivation hurt. I was exhausted all the time so I researched routines: I bought books on the subject and discussed routines with other mothers. My first baby is the only baby I did this with, mainly because I found the outcome was the same no matter what I did, my babies were never consistent. I would experiment and scrabble around in the dark noting down times and lengths of feeds. I would find a routine that worked really well one day, but the next it wouldn't. 

  I breastfed on demand which made it harder to follow a routine. If my baby was especially hungry one day they were probably having a growth spurt so I felt it was unfair to limit their intake. Similarly if it was a particularly hot day, they may want to feed more because they are thirsty. I found a routine was much easier to establish when breastfeeding had ceased.

All my children were breastfed for different lengths of time, I gave up when they were ready with the exception of my first. I turned to solids at just five months and had completely given up breastfeeding her at six and a half months. I was a first time, young mother I was eager to get to the next stage. The longest one of my children breast fed for was 14 months, I didn't establish a firm routine during that time. My older children were attending school and nursery so they had a day to day routine for meals and bed time, my youngest loosely followed it. I would breast feed him when he wanted it but I offered him solids (mainly finger food) at meal times after he turned six months. My youngest was not an easy weaner he refused to put any form of food in his mouth until he was one year, and would not drink out of a bottle or a beaker until he was eleven months.

When bedtime came along I would bath everyone at the same time every night, I would try to give him his final feed when I had put the other three to bed. Occasionally this didn't work, there were times when the older ones were playing up and my youngest was desperate for his milk: so he was fed while I read stories to the others. If he didn't go to sleep immediately I wouldn't stress about it. I always enjoyed a loving tired cuddle. I have always been conscious of how quickly time passes with children, how soon they are at school and the one on one time has passed. So I enjoyed every cuddle available.

  When he eventually fell asleep (in my arms) I would put him in his cot. Before midnight every baby of mine would always wake in their cot and cry out for a cuddle along with a sleepy feed. I would go and get them, feed in my bed and CO-sleep for the rest of the night.  I tried controlled crying but I wasn't consistent enough, if I was tired having to walk twenty times up the stairs was my Kryptonite. The tears they shed would break my heart and I would end up hot and sweaty- feeling anxious. If I were to feed in the night and settle them back in their cot I found I would be up between four and six times in one night. I would then be exhausted and unable to play the next day, however I found when I co-slept they only woke once. 

No matter which routine you follow I think they each have their own draw backs. For example I imagine a strict routine means you have to be organized- a spontaneous late night could cause a disaster. My lack of routine means that I have difficulty persuading my children when it is time for them to spend all night in their own bed. Most mornings my husband and I wake to find there are five of us in the bed.

I didn't write this to tell mothers to follow my own non routine, or to persuade you that my way is the right way. I merely wrote it to say whether you have a strict routine, a looser routine or no routine at all-if it works for you and means you get to have those precious hours of good sleep (we all know how important they have become) keep doing it, and good for you for finding something that works. Mothers shouldn't feel there is only one way to parent, otherwise our children would all be the same and that would make for very boring marriages and friendships.

Saturday, 19 October 2013

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 

Sunday, 9 June 2013

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.

Monday, 20 May 2013

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.

Thursday, 16 May 2013

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!

Wednesday, 1 May 2013

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.

Saturday, 20 April 2013

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.