That was the year that was...

So here we are at the end of another year.  I'm sure I'm not the only person looking back over the last twelve months, and wondering quite where they went.  Somewhere between school runs, house work, bed time routines and cups of tea I would guess...

This time last year I had just completed my last shift (at least for the time being) as a midwife.  It's odd to me that 2010 has passed by without me actually delivering a baby.  That said, I've actually had quite a lot of opportunities to use my midwifery knowledge over the past year...  I've palpated at least four pregnant abdomens, done a fair amount of breastfeeding support, given a couple of informal antenatal classes and answered a gazillion pregnancy and baby related questions.  If I'd have charged, I could have earned at least 20 pence!

What I haven't had to do is juggle childcare, fill in a timesheet, or try to organise time off when I need it (otherwise known as organising the off duty...  It's called that because people are always more concerned with when they're 'off' than when they're 'on'!)...  I haven't had to complete any mandatory (or any other sort of) training; one of these is called K2 - it's named after a mountain for a reason!  I haven't had to run for any buzzers, answer any irate phone calls, deal with any unreasonable visitors or chase any blood results.  Although I miss some of my wonderful ex-colleagues, I know the world of maternity still rumbles along quite happily without me, and to be honest, I can't see me rushing back anytime soon.

Of course I've done some other things over the last twelve months other than my informal midwife-ing.  So here, in no particular order are some of the highlights of my so-called life (insert drum-roll here!):

1. I have been part of a new congregation on the housing estate where I live.  This have given lots of opportunities for doing new / slightly comfort zone stretching activities such as playing the guitar and singing in front of lots of people, helping with a children's holiday club, and organising a nativity in about 30 minutes (click here for more details on that one...)
2. I have learnt to enjoy cycling
3. I have had some singing lessons.  All good fun, and notwithstanding the fact that I obviously still have much to learn on the singing front, I have discovered that I really needed boldness lessons more than anything else
4. I have been mummy to two of the funniest, most handsome, cleverest boys in Warwickshire - or maybe the whole world (no bias here obviously...) With them I have laughed, cried, danced, sung, jumped, sledged, swum, eaten (the chocolate log is all gone now - sorry), slept, prayed, cycled, wrestled, argued, cuddled, watched TV and sat in the car.  Is it any wonder I can't fit in a paid job?!
5. I have written a blog which people have actually read - I know amazing but true.  I didn't realise until I started writing this list how so much of what I have done this year has been covered by the blog... 
6. I have seen an angel
7. I have written the odd poem / song
8. I have built a snow rabbit
   
   
9. I have continued to celebrate small victories...  I'm fighting the urge to add another link...  Oh okay, but this is the last one... (have a look here if you're not truly bored by now...)

What were the best bits of your year?  I'd love to know, and you have put up with me rambling about my 2010... 
 
Here's hoping 2011 is full of more laughter, inspiration, joy, peace, music, achievements, friends, blogging, encouragement and all things good.  Gxx



The mighty log...

OK - so to you, it might just look like a giant turd...  but to me it is a thing of beauty, and more to the point, of chocolate!!

This is my first EVER yule log; so I'm jolly proud of it.

When the big day comes, I'll dust it with icing sugar - which Prue Leith (& Abbie) informs me will 'greatly enhance it's appearance'.  Till then I will just glory in it's chocolatey magnificence!

The best present of all?...

Apologies to those of you who are getting a bit sick of nativity related posts - I did write the last one about statistics... (purely in the interest of balance you understand!)  I have already admitted in the Christmas Decathlon that I find the run up to Christmas to be a bit of a multi-event exercise in exhaustion, but still - this weekend's episode was too good to miss.

On Sunday our church congregation did it's first nativity service.  We meet in a primary school on the housing estate where I live.  We're part of an established church in the local area, but have set up this congregation to take the church to where the people are.  It seems to be working - we had lots of visitors this week, which was great.

The morning hadn't started too well however.  Three very important people (not the three wise men - they came later...) were unable to be at church for various reasons.  The leader of our merry band was out of the country, unable to return due to the snow.   His wife - who happened to be doing the sermon - was stuck trying to collect their son who was also struggling with snow related air travel problems.  The third absentee was co-ordinating the whole service, including the nativity element itself; well - she was poorly to a level of not being able to leave the house...  We found out about these problems on the morning of the service...  Oh crumbs.  Time to keep calm and carry on!

I found a book with a nativity story in it (a present from my Mum recently - Thanks Mum, good timing!) and took it along, thinking that it would at least help us cover the nativity element of the service.  I'd got some carols and songs sorted already, and some help from a lovely lady to play the piano (Carols and guitars don't always mix...), so at least we had something to sing... 

We met up at the school, and pieced together what we had.  Someone else had brought a replacement craft activity for the children, and another super on-the-spot thinker set about writing a short talk.  Adrenalin + Holy Spirit = Super Efficiency!  We've spent the rest of December looking at how 'Nothing is impossible with God' (Luke 1:37), so I guess it was only right that we started putting it into practice...

The singing went well, although undoubtedly the highlight (for me at least) was when we sang a song called 'Come and join the celebration'.  Joel had been singing this one at school, and (not just because I found it difficult to play - honest...) he sang it really well, so I got him up to the front to lead the singing - microphone and all.  Marvellous.

After this, the Nativity itself was next.  I lifted the toy baby Jesus and the little manger centre stage as requested, only to notice something peaking out of Jesus' swaddling clothes...  It was a partially eaten, pink ring doughnut!  Oh, how we laughed...

The rest of the service went without a hitch...  The nativity was great, the singing was full of gusto, the talk was thought-provoking, and the cup of tea at the end was a master stroke.  All in all, it was Christmas in a nutshell; glorious, despite the circumstances (after all, the first Christmas hardly looked like a gloriously slick production...  Apart from maybe the angelic chorus - but then they'd had a chance to practice!)  The best present of all was (and is) Jesus, although it did remind me of a joke I knew (slightly altered for my own purposes of course)...

To a child at a nativity service...
'What's pink, round, and covered in sprinkles?'
Bemused child:
'I'm sure the answer should be Jesus - but it sure sounds like a doughnut to me'

Happy Christmas everyone. Gxxx

5000... well, nearly...

I don't mean to be cryptic. 5000 (or actually at time of writing - I should say 4959; Joel would be very unimpressed with any inaccuracy, especially related to numbers...) refers to the number of page views on my blog.

I wrote once before about the exciting (if slightly geeky) joys of having available statistics on my blog.  I just wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you to all of you who read my ramblings; especially those of you who comment encouragingly, or (insert fanfare here!) actually dare to publically 'follow' my blog.  It does seems odd having 'followers' - a strange, cult leader-ish term I know.  But it is lovely to know who I'm writing to...

Over the course of the last five months people in the UK, USA, Thailand, Burkina Faso, Germany, Finland, Canada, Russia, Spain, Ireland, United Arab Emirates, Brazil, Australia, France, The Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, Croatia, Slovenia, The Philippines, Singapore, Colombia, Mozambique and the Democratic Republic of the Congo have all read my blog.  I'm very honoured that anyone reads it at all, to be honest - let alone people in parts of the world I've never been to, who I've never even met.

So thank you for taking a minute out of your busy day to read this.  And do feel free to say hello!

Shepherd No. 2 - The Nativity Strikes Back

This morning it was the Nursery's turn to grace the stage.  For me that meant another trip to school to see my second little shepherd in his first nativity.

To be honest - my expectations were not high.  I knew that having seen Year One's Magnum Opus last week, and the glory of Joel's singing, I knew that Nursery - bless them - weren't going to compete in skill or finesse.  In fact, I was sure that Year One's play was going to look West End worthy in comparison.

The morning didn't start well.  Nathan decided that he didn't want to go to nursery this morning - this is a common battle at the moment, despite how much he seems to enjoy it when he gets there...  We talked about him doing some singing, at which point he just looked at me blankly.  I'm not even sure he'd understood that there was a nativity to be in, or what on earth all the fuss was about.  Still, we trudged to school, costume in hand, and hoped for the best.

I handed my little charge over to the staff, and made my way to my seat.

By showtime, the hall was packed to the rafters.  As the little stars, snowflakes, trees, birds, kings, shepherds, snowmen etc. all trooped in, it must have been a daunting sight for them all, looking out on a sea of faces and recording equipment.

For a long time I didn't see Nathan.  I thought maybe he'd decided he couldn't bear it...  But then - last through the door came my littlest shepherd, holding hands with the teaching assistant.  He sat on the end of one of the benches, and the performance began.

Now - I'm not going to lie.  It wasn't Oscar winning material.  The story was held together by the glue that is the indomitable, fantasmagorical Mrs Penycate.  None of the little cherubs had any lines to learn, other that in the songs, so there were no dramas there.  They sung (or shouted, to be honest) their little hearts out.

The thing that struck me most was how the amazing nursery staff had found a place for everyone.  The shy boy, the moody girl, the boy with learning difficulties, the girl who could have sung and danced the performance all on her own... They all made it onto the stage in small groups at some point.  They waved at their parents at inappropriate moments.  They forgot to do half of the actions.  They were helped onto and off the stage.  But they were absolutely delightful.

When I went to pick Nathan up at lunchtime, the staff were thrilled with how well it had gone.  Just to make it into the hall, in a costume, on a stage, in front of a whole load of people is a massive achievement when you're small.  It made me remember (again) how important it is to celebrate small victories.  You put your socks on by yourself! Well done!!  You got cross, but you didn't swear at your children!  High Five!!

Big victories only come along as a consequence of a whole load of little ones anyway. 

Shepherd No. 1 - part 2

So here it is...

I can't believe Joel was the only 'Sainsbury's Shepherd'...  I thought they might all be wearing matching outfits!

Joel is the superstar stripy singing shepherd.  All that singing at church, and doing singstar with Aunty Sharon has obviously stood him in good stead!

I am so very proud of him.  But be proud of me reader, I clapped and cheered, but I didn't sob!

However, I still have Nathan's play to get through next week.  Who knows - the tissues may yet be required...

The Christmas Decathlon

I like Christmas.  Don't worry - I'm not going to get all Bah Humbug-ish on you.  I'm just getting a bit fed up about the run-up - the pre-amble - the flipping multi-event nature of the thing.

Joel has been practising his Christmas play, or at least the songs therein, since half term.  This is not unexpected or problematic, (we are on our second year of school now after all).  I'm sure there's a whole lot of mileage to get out of a Christmas play if you're a teacher.  Opportunities for learning, or for letting the kids who aren't academic shine at something else...  I get it. 

Nathan is now also singing Christmas songs from his nursery Christmas play around the house.  This is impossibly cute.  I do wonder how on earth the nursery staff are going to co-ordinate the little darlings into a 'play'...  Still, I know they can work wonders.  I'm actually really looking forward to seeing the finished masterpieces.

The problem is that the kids are so hyped up about Christmas, and so tired and end of term-ish already, and there's still a long time to go.  Yes I know, for adults (especially the ones like me who aren't even close to completing the Christmas shopping - Argh...) it's not very long, but when you're small, three weeks is ages.

There are also many other carol concerts, parties, craft days, carols round the tree etc etc to be navigated...  I'll be relieved when it's the end of term to be honest.  So many days of school without their usual routine is not entirely comfortable for a small boy who likes his structure. 

I'm hoping that at some point, Christmas will actually feel like it's about Jesus.  Not about making costumes (although for those of you who read Shepherd No.1, I actually bought a Shepherd costume from Sainsbury's in the end, and now Nathan can wear it too - as he's also a Shepherd. Genius.).  Not about baking (although granted - that is very important...)  Not about finding presents for the men in your life that are really awkward to buy for.  Once we've hurdled, run, jumped and thrown ourselves through the end of term Christmas gauntlet, Jesus will still be there; the Prince of Peace, the Good Shepherd, the Light of the World.

The Generation Game

I've just got back from a weekend break with my family in Centerparcs.  Overall, we had a lovely time: we even had a chance to play in the snow, although we've come back pretty tired actually - what with all the swimming, walking, fresh air etc.

There were six of us in our merry band of adventurers:  Me, Paul, Joel, Nathan, and Paul's parent's (aka Chris and Jenifer / Mum and Dad / Grandma and Grandpa - it's a wonder that they ever know their own names actually, given that they have so many options...)

It's nice going away on holiday with extra adults; especially if those adults are fond of your children.  We've been away previously (yes, Centerparcs again - I know, very cliched) with Becca, my friend from school who is also Nathan's Godmother, and with my parents too.  It is good having some other people to play with the children; and to spend some adult time with too.  If you play your cards right - you can even end up with some free babysitting.  Marvellous.

There is something a bit stressful about mixing up the generations though; it seems to muddle up the roles some how.  When I'm with my children, I know what my job is.   I am Mummy; source of food, cuddles, medicine (only when clinically indicated obviously...), stories etc. etc.  When I am with my in-laws, I am daughter-in-law; who will listen to stories regaled at great length, laugh (OK, not cringe too much) at pun related jokes, and generally try to formulate coherent sentences.

These roles are sometimes hard to complete at the same time; for example - trying to listen to a story about an incident from a recent holiday, whilst smallest boy announces in a loud voice that he needs a wee.

Thinking about how to juggle the roles I have was one of the main motivations behind starting blogging in the first place.  It's why I'm called 'MummyLadyMe'.  I'm know I'm not the first woman to feel this way.  I've just realised that in this post I haven't even really mentioned trying to fulfill my 'lady' role (although Paul and I did make use of some free babysitting this weekend - Hoorah!), or just trying to be me.  Crumbs.  There's so much to do!

I guess all you can do is prioritise the role that seems most important at the time, and trust that everyone involved loves you enough to forgive you if they don't always rank at number one on the priority list.  I am so thankful to have relatives who I know feel that way about me.

How do you solve a problem like Strictly X Factor Idol? Get me out of here...

I guess it won't be a surprise to any of you, that our family choose Strictly Come Dancing as our reality (really? I guess it's not like any reality I've ever seen...) TV show of choice.  We even - thanks to my parents - have some special Strictly scoring cards that get waved aloft each week.  The boys like scoring everything at the moment actually.  I get marks out of ten for the dinners I cook, and for my guitar playing and singing at church on Sunday; one week recently Joel gave me 9.3...  I know, the .3 made all the difference!

Joel is struggling to decide who his favourite Strictly couple are, as there is often someone different at the top of the leader board, and he wants his favourite to be the best all the time.  He has decided that once someone gets the magic 40 points - they'll be his favourite for ever...  I know; the pressure's on for the couples now - who wouldn't give anything for that lofty achievement??

Personally, I've also been sneakily watching a bit of X factor once the kids are in bed.  I know, I know - it's really quite bad - but it's good telly for ironing to...  Especially when the brain is too tired for anything less vacuous (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it...).  I, like a lot of people, can't really comprehend the attraction of Wagner.  I can't believe anyone would actually spend even a few pence to vote for someone who is obviously such a terrible singer.  Each week, I hope that common sense will prevail, and each week I am disappointed; however, the same is happening on Strictly too with Anne Widdecombe and Anton...  That said - I think Anton deserves all the votes they get for sheer perseverance, and for dogged cheerfulness.

I have less sympathy for X factor, who should have understood the public's desire to get one over Simon Cowell after last year's Jedward fiasco...  Wagner might win - just because of how much the public want to feel in charge.  And actually, if Simon and his cronies had really cared about it being a true talent contest, Wagner would never have made it past the first audition.  Mr Cowell, you only have yourself to blame.

Oh well, at least I haven't succumbed to watching the jungle yet...

Shepherd no. 1

Christmas play season approaches... 

In Joel's class they've been learning songs for their Christmas play since they went back to school after half term, so it's not surprising that a small slip of paper came home with Joel this week.

On this small piece of paper were the four short lines that Joel (aka Shepherd no. 1) has to learn for the play.  This shouldn't be a problem for the boy who could tell you how long any given person from pretty much any series of Total Wipeout took to complete the Qualifier (Knock out Chris? Well, that would be 1 minute 10...)  Memory is one of Joel's strong suits.

The only slightly disconcerting element was found in the final sentence, asking me to provide a costume for the Shepherd, which needs to be in school by the end of the month.

How do you dress a Shepherd??  Last year I think I had it very easy actually, as Joel was a narrator - and just had to wear uniform.  I know the classic nativity shepherd attire would be a dressing gown, probably with tea-towel head gear; but Joel doesn't even have a dressing gown (I know - such neglect...  Well actually, he's always boiling - so he'd never wear one anyway.)  I'm not sure he's going to go for the whole tea-towel thing either.  Joel's never really liked dressing up anyway...

So - any ideas?  Particularly ideas that don't involve sewing prowess. 

All I need now is for Nathan's nursery play to also need a costume of even greater difficulty - like being the donkey!  There is no job in the world that requires as complex a skill mix as Motherhood.

Wisdom and Tractors

Nathan's been at home with me for the last couple of days, due to him having the same virus as me (we like to share!)...  As you know from my last post, being ill and coughing all night doesn't fill me with joy, and I hate seeing the children poorly too; however - there are silver linings if you look for them...

I spent this morning in pyjamas, (Thank you Sarah for doing the school run for me xx) playing snap, having cuddles and warm drinks, and generally chilling out with my littlest boy.  Life with Nathan isn't always fun and games, but his concerns are generally less complicated than a grown up.  We spent a fair bit of time sat on stools in the kitchen, pretending we were riding on a tractor.  The biggest concern in Nathan's head wasn't: "This cough is really annoying and tiring, and I wish I felt better" - valid though that would have been.  His head was occupied with much more interesting things, like how to make the best tractor engine noise, and which location we should visit on our tractor next...  Obviously it's perfectly plausible to ride on your pretend tractor to Thomas Land, and then continue on to go Ten Pin Bowling...  in Africa.  And then drive back to your farm again.

Sometimes I think I could learn a lot from Nathan and his approach to life, (although maybe not his geography!)  The way he's feeling doesn't interrupt the more important things in life, like playing; or when it is bad enough to properly get in the way, he just comes to me - knowing that I'll do my best to sort it out for him, he trusts his mummy, and doesn't waste his time and energy worrying about things he can't sort out anyway. 

After lunch today, he just crawled up onto my lap.  When I asked if he was tired, he said he was - so I took him up to bed for a nap.  As we walked up the stairs, he said "then I can play later"; something I always used to say to him to convince him to have a nap, 'so he had the energy to play later'.  Hmmm...  Resting; so you have the energy to do something later.  Sounds like another useful tip to me.

In the Bible there are two women called Mary and Martha.  They are sisters who are hosting Jesus and his friends, and there's obviously lots to do (sound familiar?)  Martha is cross - as Mary is spending all her time listening to Jesus, and not helping her with the work.  I feel for Martha, I understand the pull of trying to get everything done, and the frustration of not getting the help she thought she should have; but she missed out.  She missed the opportunity to sit and listen, to be with Jesus, to rest - so she had the energy to play later.  After all, Jesus did say: "Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28) 

Maybe I need to be a bit more Mary (or Nathan), and a bit less Martha.  I think I started today by playing tractors, and ignoring the washing.

Inheritance

I'm coughing again.  This is bad, and yet not unfamiliar.  It probably goes with the territory for a lot of asthmatics I would guess.  I've had a barely noticeable cold, during which I've had to blow my nose precisely twice; however I've still gone on to develop the post-viral cough of all evilness.

If you haven't experienced this either personally, or by having to share a bed with someone who has - consider yourself blessed.  Basically, you cough in the day a bit - but then when you lie down and try to sleep, the cough turns into an evil sleep inhibiting monster.  It's enough to require ear-plugs, muttering and sometimes separate beds in our house...

I probably get my predisposition to this sort of thing from my Mum.  She's always been a cough-er; which I think is decidedly unfair - since it was my Dad who smoked for years. (He gave up when the price of cigarettes went up in the budget in 1982!)  Anyway, as I know to my cost, genes aren't always fair...  After all, I've never smoked either - that said, I would have been a fool to start, considering I've been asthmatic since I was ten.

My Mum inherited her dodgy lungs from her Dad, so I can hardly hold it against her.  The trouble is, I'm now having to face up to passing on my occasionally ropey genetic material to my own fabulous offspring.  Both the boys have a tendency towards ear infections (as do I), Joel has dodgy lungs - although not true asthma yet, and colour blindness passes down the X chromosome, so effectively Joel is colour blind because of me.  All this is serious fuel for mother-guilt...

That said, the boys (thank goodness) also have inherited a whole load of good things, both from me and from Paul. Things like Joel's ability to read so well so early (just like me, and his aunty Sharon), or like Nathan's innate knowledge of cars (no surprises where he gets that from...).  I am thankful everyday that the boys and I don't have more serious health problems to deal with too - after all, as genetic issues go, colour blindness is very small on the scale...  Just don't ask me to do too much rejoicing on a day after very little sleep due to the cough-monster.

Happiness is - a cup of tea in bed...

Yesterday, on the wettest and most horrible day of the school run so far this year, I was blessed in many ways...

My husband happened to have taken the day off, having worked on Saturday this weekend just gone.  Joel was very happy that Daddy was going to be around, and (unprompted by me I hasten to add!) asked Paul to take him to school.

Paul - being as he is a nice Daddy, and also because I had got up early with the boys on Sunday - agreed to take the boys to school.  So the next morning, with the wind howling and the rain pelting down, my three boys set out from the house, whilst I remained curled up in bed.  Heaven.

Life got even better when Paul got home, when he (again unprompted by me - wonders will never cease!) brought me up a cup of tea.  I think tea making might be one of my love languages...

Paul ended up doing all the school and nursery runs yesterday, and I even managed to have a singing lesson without taking Nathan with me.  Paul even did a food shop...  It was nice that Paul had a day off, and effectively I had one too - although I still cooked everybody dinner.

I think, although the school runs went well (unlike this morning, but that's another story...) Paul now has renewed appreciation for what I do each day.  I am very grateful.  Well done super-dad!

Just the way you are

This week I took the boys to the opticians for a routine check up.  I wasn't expecting there to be any major problems - I was certain that they wouldn't be needing glasses.  I was slightly suspicious that Joel might be colour blind (or colour restricted...  I know, very PC) as he's always had trouble discerning some colours, especially the paler ones. 

The test was done very sensitively by the optician, who gave him the first 'Ishihara plate' to look at, (Have you seen these before? They are pictures with coloured dots on, with different colours making pathways, or sometimes numbers on them)  which was done purely on contrast - so at least he understood what he was trying to do.  However, when he got onto the actual test, he couldn't see any differences at all in the colours there, he looked quite blank really.  It was so odd to see him flounder like that, and heart-wrenching too - especially when he later had to sit through his brother completing the same tasks with minimal effort.

Joel is a very able child, and I think this will have been a new experience for him.  He so rarely struggles to complete the tasks put before him.  The optician was great at explaining to him (and to me) that it wasn't anything he was doing wrong - it was just that his eyes weren't set up to see as many different colours as some other people's.  It also shed light on the fact that Joel has always claimed his favourite colour to be brown - which I always thought was an unusual choice for a small child (although I guess chocolate is brown...)  It turns out that Joel sees the world in various shades of brown - so I guess it's good that he likes it...

I'm still thinking through the implications of this.  It feels weird to me that Joel might have some restrictions on his career choice, when he's always been able to do anything he put his mind towards.  I know that we will just have to deal with any issues as they arise.

I was so proud of Joel.  We left the opticians with him saying: 'So if I can't tell if something's yellow or pale green, I can ask Nathan and he can tell me'.  I love the fact that he was already solving the potential problem, and also that he was starting to handle the fact that his little brother could do something that he couldn't manage.  I suppose the earlier we understand that some people find some things easier or harder than us, and that's OK, the better life is for everyone.  I think Joel understands this more than the average five year old anyway.

It also gave me the chance to tell Joel that I love him, just the way he is.  That I believe God made his eyes (and all of him) just the way He wants them to be.  I've since found out that colour blind people often have very good night vision, as they're so used to seeing things only with contrast...  Maybe he'll be some kind of superhero...

Words and Letters

It's always exciting when your kids learn to do something new...  Having learnt all his letters now, Nathan is just starting to look at letters together - and work out the words that they spell. 

It's great when he introduces himself.  For days now he's been saying "Hello - it's me - Nathan!" by way of introduction; but yesterday when talking to a friend of mine, he said: "Hello - it's me - Nathan - n-a-t-h-a-n - Nathan!"  Marvellous.

Obviously, the opportunities for reading are endless, after all - there are words everywhere.  It's always interesting what takes his attention; it's not always the things you would expect.

Yesterday he was very proud having read the word 'bus' - no surprises there.  Transport features very highly in Nathan's favourite things.

What made me laugh, was when - sitting at the dinner table - he finished his drink - sat looking at the bottom of his glass - and pronounced: "i-k-e-a - Ikea!"  Of all the words in all the world... :o)

A tale of two instruments

At the end of the last half term, Joel had to make a musical instrument.  This was homework; the instrument could be anything - but it needed to be ready for the last day of the half term, when they'd use them all for making a piece of music.  This Magnum opus was to sound like a rain storm...

We started work in plenty of time.  Joel had decided that he wanted to make a guitar.  I had found a tissue box, and the ubiquitous elastic bands.  It was all going so well...

There was nothing in the brief about making the instrument look beautiful.  But with the time available, I decided (yes reader, I brought this entirely on myself, Joel was not bothered either way) that decorating the tissue box would be a good idea.  We set to it, cutting and sticking an array of different coloured paper all over the box.  It was beautiful.  However, it had already set us on the road to disaster...

I'm quite practical - or so I like to think - especially 'for a girl'...  However, I had not foreseen the effect that the gluing would have of the structural integrity of the tissue box.  Once the box was dry, it had warped beyond all recognition.  Joel was not amused.  It looked (and more to the point, sounded) pretty rubbish - which to all intents and purposes is exactly what it was.  Our failure was only compounded by seeing one of Joel's friend's attempts at a guitar; complete with correctly shaped body, neck, frets - the whole caboodle.

There was nothing to be done; we had to make something else.

I found the mouth piece from a party blower, a cardboard tube and a plastic pot; and left Joel and his Daddy to assemble a 'clarinet'.  I was already feeling chastened by my previous attempt, and to be honest I knew that with minimal time to spare (the rain storm concert was the next day), the instrument was more likely to be structurally sound if built by the engineer in the family...  I restricted myself to cutting the desired lengths of sticky tape.

And thus Joel went to school the next morning with an instrument that he loved.  Not because it was pretty, but because it actually worked.  He later told me that there had been endless shakers, guitars, drums etc. but his had been the only wind instrument in the building...  At least I can claim to have been the brains behind the operation, and the best sticky tape dispenser in Warwickshire!

Time to worry, or time to sleep?

I've just put my younger son Nathan to bed.  He was really over tired, cranky and sad.  Throwing tantrums over the smallest things; apparently teeth brushing is tantamount to torture...  Above all, he wanted to not go to bed...  Unfortunately, this was the only thing that could improve the situation, so Mummy just had to persevere and get the little man into bed.  Once he'd calmed down, he went to sleep in about ten seconds.

It got me thinking:  how often do we do the same thing?  How many problems that we get ourselves worked up about; seemingly disastrous occurrences; could actually be improved by a good night's sleep?  How often do we worry needlessly, when we should really just go to bed?

There's a story in the Bible that I find really encouraging that's found in 1 Kings 19.  In a nutshell, Elijah has been very busy doing some awesome stuff for God, but then the King (a nasty piece of work called Ahab) and Queen (an equally nasty piece of work called Jezebel) find out about it, and threaten to kill Elijah.  He does what we'd all feel like doing in this situation - runs away and hides...

He then goes to sleep, and then is visited by an angel who basically tells him to eat, and then rest again, giving him the food that he needs.  God knew that Elijah was good for nothing without adequate food and sleep.  Remind you of anyone?

It's only after this that he goes and meets with God who comforts him and shows him the way forward.

I hope that little by little I might be learning which disasters need immediate attention, and which only need me to trust them to God and go to sleep.  God knows, I too am good for nothing without adequate food and rest.

I believe in angels...

Deep breath... OK - so yesterday evening I was at church - and I saw an angel.

I fully accept that some of you will now think I've properly gone bonkers - but honestly, I haven't.

People around me were praying.  Asking God to speak, and to make a difference to somebody's life; to show her how much He loved her, and that she could have a better life than the one she had now.  There was a whole load of stuff going on - and I looked up - and there he was.

He looked golden.  Very tall, and very strong looking - nothing remotely 'cherub' about this guy.  He was wearing a robe, and he held a huge sword.  He just stood there, with a quiet authority (I don't think he was the sort of being you would argue with), and when I looked around later, I couldn't see him anymore.

It made me think about how amazing it is that there is a whole spiritual world around us that's every bit as real as the physical world we spend most of our time focusing on.  How awesome it is that God sends angels into action in response to our prayers.  I also thought how cool it is that - regardless of how we feel - we never have to be alone, because God can be with us all the time; and that He has legions of angels at His command, who can guard our every step if needs be.

I'm not claiming to be an expert - after all, there must be billions of angels, and I've only ever seen one - but I'm hoping this experience will encourage me (and maybe you) to look beyond the end of my own nose; to see the amazing things God is doing all the time in the world around me; to look at the world with different eyes.

It's all gone a bit Lemony Snicket...

By this, I mean wrong...  Or more precisely - there has been a series of unfortunate events.

Whilst chatting to a good friend of mine this week, we were discussing a particular incident - and having claimed it to be unfortunate a number of times - we came to the conclusion that it had all gone a bit Lemony Snicket...

I've said for a long time (I think since a stressful time during A levels - or even before...) that problems wouldn't be problems if they had the good grace to come one at a time - you'd just deal with whatever it was, and move on.  (Granted, this rule doesn't work for the proper grade A crises, just the petty annoyances of everyday life...  I understand more about this now).

The thing I find most difficult to cope with, is when a whole load of things seem to come at you at once.  It leaves you no time to process each one - let alone find a solution; not even time to file it in an appropriate place for dealing with later.  You're just left gasping under the weight of the millions of small, otherwise manageable tasks.

I know I'm by no means the first person to feel this way; and actually, that gives me hope.  There are so many bits in the Bible, where people pour out their hearts and their troubles to God; knowing that He understands, and more than that - that He can actually make a difference to their situation too. 

Psalm 34:17-19 (New International Version) says:

"The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
A righteous man may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all."

Sometimes you just have to hold on...   Oh well, time to just keep swimming I suppose...

Has anyone seen my show-off gene? (or La la laaaa 2)

I've had another couple of singing lessons now.  (I know - it's taken us a while to get going - we're very busy people...)  The thing that continues to strike me, is how frustrating it is being a bit shy.

This is so very true in singing. I can sing so much better when I'm relaxed.  I can hit notes I thought were well out of the reach of a die-hard alto like me. 

I understand why this is.  Everything seems to tighten in my throat / pharynx / larynx when I'm nervous...  Why I'm nervous doesn't seem to matter.  The same thing happens whether I'm worried about what the people listening are thinking, or if there's just a tricky / high note or phrase coming up.  I guess I just need to learn to chill out, and practice deliberately relaxing those muscles...  Easier said than done though.

It's times like this that I wish I was more of a show-off, hence the blog title.  There are times in life when it's easier to be a 'look at me!' sort of person.  I used to wish for this when I was teaching antenatal classes; but actually - once I got into it - I actually quite enjoyed it.  For me in this context, confidence came through feeling like I knew what I was talking about.

Singing seems different though somehow.  There are so many uncontrollable variables.  Will my voice crack?  Will I breathe in the right place - or will I run out of air halfway through?  Will I hit that note, or end up flat?  Will people like what they hear?  The list is endless...

Helpfully, the place I sing most in public - is in church.  When other people can hear me, it's generally because I'm leading the worship at the front - and thus I have a microphone.  Singing in this context is immensely liberating, as I know a number of vital things:

1. The people there are there to focus on God - not on me
2. I'm singing primarily for God, the fact that this then helps lead others is secondary
3. Most of the people there know me, and love me - so they're not going to be bothered if I throw in a bum note occasionally. (This is just as well - as the likelihood of a wrong note increases exponentially when I'm playing the guitar as well!)

I'm hoping the fact that I'm not naturally a performer actually glorifies God all the more.  I offer up to Him my shyness, along with everything else; knowing that this is the God who turns water into wine, ashes into beauty and desperation into hope.  All things are possible with God...  I just have to remember that when I'm reaching for the high notes!

OCD for kids

One thing I didn't realise about young children until I had my own, is how they all (OK maybe not all - but a lot of those I now know) have a type of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)...

Exhibit A of this in our house is normally food related. Tonight the boys ate beef casserole (yummy), and I instinctively knew that Nathan would be far more likely to eat it if he could see what was in it - so I chopped the vegetables big so they were still recognisable; 'look - there's a carrot!'   I also knew he'd be more likely to eat the stew if I served it with some bread (cut into squares) on the side.  See, this is actually progress; Nathan used to only eat bread if it was cut into triangles...

Another example of this is that in our house, beans on toast isn't actually beans on toast at all.  It's actually beans next to toast, but in no way touching it - otherwise it is contaminated!

It's not just food either.  All manner of small, seemingly insignificant details can unsettle a young child.  Little breaks in the routine; parking the car in a different place to normal; misplacing a favourite toy; switching off the TV before the theme tune has finished; the list is endless.

Thankfully my older son (a wise old sage at 5) is now slightly more flexible than he used to be; but that might just be because I've learnt to explain things to him in a way that helps him cope with these changes.  I still say people are coming over at 4-ish rather than 4, otherwise he'll tell them they're late at 4.03!

Maybe we can all be a bit like this...  I dislike change as much (or probably more) than the next person.  It unsettles me too.  Maybe all being an adult is is learning to manage this sort of thing without having a break-down every time someone changes your sandwich filling... 

The 12 days of school term

On the first day of school term my young son gave to me: a lunch box full of debris

On the second day of school term my young son gave to me:
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the third day of school term my young son gave to me:
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the fourth day of school term my young son gave to me:
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the fifth day of school term my young son gave to me:
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the sixth day of school term my young son gave to me:
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the seventh day of school term my young son gave to me:
Seven jolly phonics
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the eighth day of school term my young son gave to me:
Eight bits of paper
Seven jolly phonics
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the ninth day of school term my young son gave to me:
Nine smily stickers
Eight bits of paper
Seven jolly phonics
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the tenth day of school term my young son gave to me
Ten new instructions
Nine smily stickers
Eight bits of paper
Seven jolly phonics
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the eleventh day of school term my young son gave to me:
Eleven writing homeworks
Ten new instructions
Nine smily stickers
Eight bits of paper
Seven jolly phonics
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
And a lunch box full of debris

On the twelfth day of school term my young son gave to me:
Twelve un-named uniforms
Eleven writing homeworks
Ten new instructions
Nine smily stickers
Eight bits of paper
Seven jolly phonics
Six bags of haribo
Five gold stars!
Four broken pencils
Three party invites
Two reading books
AND A LUNCHBOX FULL OF DEBRIS!!!

Just keep swimming...

September is my husband Paul's busiest time at work.  He works at a university - and so the start of the academic year is insanely busy for multiple reasons.  It takes a lot of his time, and even more of his mental and emotional energy, so we're not seeing very much of him at the moment - and the bits we are seeing are the tired and slightly grumpy bits!

The same thing happens every year - so it's not like it's taken me by surprise.  However, every September, I gain a renewed admiration for anyone parenting alone for any reason.  How anyone manages to be a single parent, and still be able to formulate coherent sentences is beyond me - I take my hat off to you.

I'm trying to pace myself with all the jobs that need doing.  Gaining wisdom from the fountain of life that is 'Finding Nemo'.  When life is tough - I think we sometimes need reminding that all we have to do is just keep going.  Just keep swimming...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmyUkm2qlhA

It gives me hope that Jesus understood this feeling of general exhaustion.  In Matthew 11:28 it says:
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."  That's a promise I need to remember today.

We don't have to battle on alone.  God never promised that life would be easy, but He did promise to be with us every step of the way.

Hello Djibo, this is Rugby calling...

Something slightly mystical (OK - mystical to me) happens once you've been blogging for a month.  The good burgers of Google add a new feature to your blogging set up which enables you to find out all sorts of fascinating things; they call this bit 'Stats'.

For example, it tells me where in the world people are reading my blog - hence the title...  I have some friends living and working as missionaries in Djibo, Burkina Faso (Hello Mark & Cheryl!) - so I have a pretty rock solid idea that they are the Burkina readers...  However, amazingly - there's people all over the world reading my humble little blog.  Who are the people in the Netherlands / Italy / France / USA / Canada / New Zealand etc etc reading my blog?  How many countries can one blog get to anyway?

I can also tell you how many people read each blog post.  For example, the most popular one so far was 'So here's the thing...'  A blog about keeping romance alive in long term relationships.  I'll be writing more about that soon - so watch this space.

I even know whether people are using Windows, Macs, iPhones or blackberries...  I know - it's bonkers.  What am I supposed to do with all this information?  (Don't worry - I can't see what colour your eyes are, or tell what you're thinking...  Big sister is not watching you!) I have to confess to loving the fact that it all appears in pretty graphs and tables though; who knew statistics could be so addictive?

I would love to know where you are reading this - and who you are - whether you're somewhere exotic, or somewhere closer to home.  Please add a comment at the bottom (even if it's 'in the bath in Bognor!')

Oh - and Thank you to all of you who have clicked on an occasional interesting advert on my blog.  It does make me a few pennies, and I am very grateful. xx

Reasons to be Cheerful - 1,2,3...



I live with two of the most brilliant comedians in Rugby, or maybe even England.  The thing is - they are my children, and sometimes they're not aware of how funny they are.  I love the fact that they make me laugh every single day, and here are some of the reasons why:

1. Joel playing the guitar (attempting flamenco music!) - talking to Nathan playing the ukulele: "That's not rock music - that's just LOUD!"
2. Nathan's occasional mis-pronunciation of words: "Come on Mrs Harrington" (See previous post - Words)
3. In the garden recently - Joel comes running - "Mummy, Mummy - I've found a spider - his name is Henry!"
4. The way Nathan will not come and brush his teeth if you ask him too, but if you go into the bathroom without him, and start saying "Where's my Nathan - I can't find him - He must have gone missing" etc. He'll come running...
5. The way neither of the boys have realised the fact that the nightly 'Pyjama Race' isn't an exciting competition, it's just a cunning ruse to get them ready for bed.
6. The sound of them laughing
7. The stick game - How many sticks can you find to put in the green bin?  Current record: 164 (Otherwise known as a cunning plan to tidy up the garden...  I know, parenting requires an awful lot of cunning!)  This may turn into the leaf game over the next few months...
8. The simple joy of jumping - it just makes Nathan so happy. ("I'm jumping on the kitchen!"...)
9. Sweet Caroline (see previous post...)
10. Joel and Nathan's never ending encouragement - there's nothing more brilliant than being told you're doing well by someone too young to fudge the truth...

Fancy A Brew?

Over the weekend I was having a cup of tea with some friends, and they were surprised to hear that I only started drinking tea at university. 


I did my midwifery degree at the University of Central Lancashire.  Up until this point I'd lived in Buckinghamshire, so moving to Preston was a bit of a shock to the system...


We spent a lot of our first year doing placements with community midwives.  It was at this point that I discovered how truly devoted people from Lancashire are to drinking tea.  After being asked: "Fancy a brew?" in every house we visited at least ten times every day, I realised I was going to have to start drinking tea if I was ever going to fit in! 
I only discovered the Lancashire Hotpots today, thanks to my friend Sarah - this song is a homage to the tea drinkers of Lancashire...


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM1jQ8cIFuU&feature=related


I'm off to make a cuppa xx

If you're happy/sad/excited/cross and you know it...

Yesterday I wrote a Facebook status about listening to my younger son Nathan wandering around the house singing 'If you're happy and you know it - clap your hands'...  Most people who commented just thought it was cute, however - my sister (her with the nearly PhD) commented that although she appreciated the cuteness, she didn't really like the song.

Her issue with it was - what are the miserable kids supposed to do?  Fake it?  I can see her point - and actually someone from the BBC must agree with her, as on a Cbeebies episode of 'Something Special', they sang the song, but then added 'If you're sad and you know it - cry and cry', 'If you're cross and you know it - stomp your feet' and 'If you're excited and you know it - jump about'.

It got me thinking - this could be a guide to life.

Join in everyone...

If you're happy and you know it - clap your hands.
If you're happy and you know it - clap your hands.
If you're happy and you know it, and you really want to show it,
if you're happy and you know it - clap your hands.

If you're bored and you know it - read a book.
If you're bored and you know it - read a book.
If you're bored and you know it, just remember not to throw it,
If you're bored and you know it - read a book.

If you're angry and you know it - count to ten.
If you're angry and you know it - count again.
If you're angry and you know it, and you don't want to explode it,
If you're angry and you know it - count to ten.

If you're stressed and you know it - phone a friend.
If you're stressed and you know it - phone a friend.
And you might find it's not all that bad in the end,
if you're stressed and you know it - phone a friend.

If you're wiggly and you know it - do a dance.
If you're wiggly and you know it - even prance.
If you can't sit still for toffee, or you've just had too much coffee,
If you're wiggly and you know it - do a dance.
 
If you're indecisive and you know it - do them all.
(clap clap, read a book, count to ten, phone a friend, do a dance)
If you're indecisive and you know it - do them all.
(clap clap, read a book, count to ten, phone a friend, do a dance)
If you're indecisive and you know it, and you just don't want to blow it,
If you're indecisive and you know it - do them all.
(clap clap, read a book, count to ten, phone a friend, do a dance)
 
If you're tired and you know it - go to bed... xx

The Best Brownies in the World??

A long time ago - I did promise to discuss the 'Best Chocolate Brownie Recipe' so I thought the time had come...  I have been talking about exercise a bit, so I thought it must be time to redress the balance!! :)

This recipe was given to me by my friend Rachel, but I can't recall where she got it from:

Rachel's Brownies

Ingredients:
150g unsalted butter
200g plain chocolate - chopped
175g caster sugar
1tsp vanilla extract
3 large eggs
75g plain flour - sieved
100g white chocolate - chopped
100g milk chocolate - chopped

Instructions:

1. Melt the plain chocolate and butter in a bowl over boiling water
2. Mix in the caster sugar and vanilla extract
3. Whisk in the eggs, one at a time until all combined
4. Add the flour - beat until smooth
5. Stir in white and milk chocolate chunks
6. Pour mixture into 20cm square baking tin
7. Bake for 30 minutes - Oven temp should be 160 (or 140 if a fan oven)

So tasty - and gorgeous when still warm - especially with some nice ice cream...  Yummy. 

Try it out, and then let me know if you'd change anything.  Oh, and don't let them near anyone doing Weight Watchers, they're probably a gazillion points each...

The List

One of the great things I've been able to do now I'm not working, is help out with a small discipleship group at our church.  This cell group has some very beautiful 16 to 18 year old girls, and it's been a joy getting to know them, and walking with them through some of the joys and trials of being a teenager.  It's also put some things from my own teenage years into a new perspective.

We talk about all sorts of things: life, learning, God the universe and everything really.  We also spend a fair amount of time talking about relationships.

One story I've told them recently, is about something that happened to me just over ten years ago...

It was the summer after my first year of university, and I was spending the day with Cath, one of my old school friends. Cath wouldn't mind me telling you that she'd had a very bad track record with men;  habitually attracted to the bad boy who would behave badly and treat her even worse.  It pained me to see her hurt - again.

I concocted a plan.  I got her to write 'The List'.

This list was to have all the characteristics she wanted in her next boyfriend on it.  The main part of it was full of non-negotiables, the things that weren't up for discussion.  Then at the end, she added a few preferences... 

She felt a bit daft writing it, so I (happily single at the time) decided to write a list too.  I made it comically specific:

1. Male
2. Christian
3. Aged 20-25
4. Caring
5. Secure in himself
6. A bit taller than me - maybe 5 foot 10
7. Brown, curly hair
8. Brown eyes

The funny bit, and the bit my youth cell like, is that I met Paul (super husband) the very next day.  Paul, who happened to fill all the criteria...  Every single one. 

Now I know there's nothing magic about writing a list like this - of course not.  And I know that sometimes the people we marry aren't always 'our type'.  I would have still married Paul if he'd had different colour hair (!)...  I still think it's a good idea to think about what you really want in your partner, and then stick to it; it might help in relationship disaster prevention!

Cath, my lovely school friend, now has a lovely list-fulfilling husband of her own, and a beautiful new baby too.  It's amazing what can happen in ten years, isn't it?

Sweet Caroline

Those of you who know me well, know the truth about me.  I'm not a lean, mean, cycling machine; more like a wobbly, knobbly, cuddly mummy.  I feel I need to start with this fact - as I'm going to talk about going cycling - again.  I've confessed in a previous post (See 'I want to ride my bicycle') to being pleased about having finally found a form of exercise I enjoy; but to be honest - the main motivation has been having Joel master cycling over the summer holidays, and him wanting to practice his new found skill.

We went out today, on a mission to cycle round Draycote Water.  This is a local reservoir (the same one mentioned in 'One to One time') which is about five miles round.  This time we took a picnic (vital fuel for the intrepid adventurers), but we also took our new piece of cycling kit.

Our friends, the lovely Diane and Aaron, had passed onto us a tag-along bicycle attachment their sons no longer need.  This adds an extra seat, pedals, handle-bars and a third wheel to my bike, making it really quite long.  It opens up the possibility of cycling together as a whole family, as Nathan's only just mastered pedalling, and doesn't yet have the stamina to keep up with the longer legged members of the family.

I have to admit to being a little dubious.  Nathan is a wiggly child, and I wasn't sure he was going to be able to sit still, let alone for long enough for us to get around the reservoir.  So I decided to have a little chat with him about it before we set off.

We stood together looking out the back door, watching Paul assembling the tag-along.  He listened as I explained which bit was Mummy's seat, which was Nathan's seat, where he would hold on etc. etc.  I asked if that sounded OK to him.  He thought for a couple of seconds with his serious face on, and then replied that he was happy to go for a ride on Caroline.

Caroline?

I checked that he understood.  I know that Caroline is the name of a car in Thomas the Tank Engine stories, so I wanted to be sure that he understood that we wouldn't be driving round the reservoir...

He understood completely, he had just named the tag-along! 

And so it came to pass that we gained a member of the family.  I then had tantrums to deal with as both Joel and Nathan couldn't ride on Caroline at the same time.  In fact, one of us will probably have to take Joel out on it (sorry, her) later in order to keep the peace.

Our trip around Draycote Water was a storming success.  Joel managed to cycle all the way round.  So did Paul & I, and Nathan and Caroline were a beautiful, if slightly wobbly couple.  A picnic lunch had never tasted so good.

If I do manage to get fit, it won't be down to my efforts or discipline; it will be down to the boys harassing me for rides on Caroline... :)

Dance like a kid

I was feeling a bit glum earlier on having heard some sad news...  (Nothing major - so don't panic!)

It was then that I heard some exceedingly raucous laughter coming from my lounge.  Both my children have brilliant laughs - especially when they're uninhibited, and not being watched - It's one of the best sounds in the world.  I walk in, to discover the boys are having a silly dancing competition - taking turns to dance, and being awarded points for their efforts.  They are laughing and laughing - and (for once) it actually doesn't matter who has the most points.

Then the inevitable happens.  Nathan loses interest, and so Joel asks me to take Nathan's turn.  Well, what could I do? 

I give it my best shot.  Somewhere between the twist and the hand jive, with bonus points for pulling a silly face at the same time.  These things are less embarrassing if you throw yourself in whole-heartedly.  In fact, I discover that I'm really quite good at it.  So good that Nathan decides to join in - and so Joel gives us the best score so far: 9 out of 10...  Bruno Tonioni would be proud. 

And actually, I guess I win really.  As there's no room for being sad when you're dancing like a kid.  I think I knew this before - but sometimes you just need the encouragement to give it a try.  Go on, I dare you.
As Chris and Pui would say: "Show me show me your groovy moves!"

The mobile phone saga

I'm not a technophobe, but I'm not a techie either...

Over the Bank Holiday weekend, my mobile phone was playing up.  Some of it's functions were working fine - but it was stubbornly refusing to receive any text messages.  This was a bit of a nightmare, as I tend to organise my (& the boys') social life via texts...

I tried getting people to reply to texts I sent - but this didn't work.

After talking to my husband (who is several degrees up the techie scale from me) I tried deleting some messages to make sure there was space to receive things.  Deleting messages one by one from the inbox takes an unbelievable amount of time, and I couldn't just delete the lot as I needed some of them.  I barely scratched the surface of my inbox if I'm honest.

I then hit upon the master plan of deleting my Sent Items.  I even worked out how to delete them all by only pressing a couple of buttons...  (I know - I'm a genius!) My phone - bless it - then proceeded to delete them, one by one, all by itself, all 2648 of them.  This, as you can imagine, took a few more ages...

After all this space saving, my phone still didn't want to play.  I was mentally bemoaning how everything seems to break when you haven't got the money to replace it.  I was working out where to purchase a new hand set...

And then, super husband (he really is a genius...) remembered the golden rule of all electrical equipment, the first commandment of anything with batteries, the mantra of anything technological:







If it doesn't work - switch it off - then switch it on again.

I am happy to say that the phone is now healed of all it's ills. Fourteen text messages then staggered into my inbox having been running round the ether, and I''ve saved a few quid.

I'll remember what to do next time! :)

La la Laaaaa!

I mentioned in a post earlier on that I'm playing my guitar and singing more in public these days. (See 'a side order of self-confidence' post.) One of the things that I've been doing for this is having some singing lessons. I'm doing this for a number of reasons, although my voice isn't bad - I want it to be stronger, especially on the high notes! 

This has been fun; partially because my singing teacher Sarah is a very good friend of mine.  Also, because she encourages me to use my comedy opera voice sometimes (You know the one, it's the one you use when you're trying to get your kids to open their mouths whilst you brush their teeth! - or is that just me...) 

Sarah's encouraged me to find some songs that I really like, that I think will challenge me vocally.  It's been great trawling through the CD collection and finding some really great songs.  My sister Sharon has already introduced me to Joni Mitchell who has an awesome collection of interesting songs (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTVjCWekS1Q&feature=related,) and then there's Tracy Chapman and Nina Simone.  I'm also remembering bits of my childhood, where Carole King was required listening...  If I can master even half of these - I'll be pretty darn good.

I know it's difficult to pin it down - but I was wondering - what is your favourite song ever?  If you like, you can narrow it down to 'favourite song ever - for singing purposes'...

I'm not sure I can answer this question for me, but for the kids (thanks again to Aunty Sharon, and the power of Singstar) it would probably be 'I believe in a thing called love' by The Darkness, or possibly 'Song 2' by Blur.  They really are too cool for school...

One to one time...

The sun shone today (hoorah!), and so the boys and I took the chance to go cycling at a local reservoir.  Joel (son number 1 - aged 5) and I set off together, leaving Nathan (aged 3) to pootle along at a slower pace, with Daddy for company.

We managed about 3 miles all in all, which I thought was quite impressive.  Maybe another day, with a bit more planning, and a lot more food, we'll actually make it the whole way round.

I realised whilst we were out, how little time I spend one to one with Joel, and it got me wondering how common our approach is.  When Joel was small, it took both of us to look after him; although there were certain vital functions only I was equipped for.  Then when Nathan came along, we tended to aim to divide and conquer - I tackled the baby, Paul tackled the toddler - after all, Joel wanted as much daddy-time as possible, and I was still feeding Nathan, so the roles were pretty obvious.  We've pretty much kept things this way round though; me looking after Nathan, Joel with his Daddy; I guess the system wasn't broken, so we never tried to fix it.  After all, there are many times when we (particularly me) look after both the boys.

The thing is, now Nathan's old enough to be keen on Daddy time too.  In fact, he's quite a man's man.  If there's one solitary Dad at a park or soft play centre, he'll seek him out for a bit of manly interaction.  He likes to chat and pass the time with any man who'll listen to him.

Today made me realise how important it is to swap our natural roles around occasionally.  Joel and I cycled further than we ever could have done with Nathan in tow.  We also chatted about school, his friends, the universe and everything really.  Nathan got some well deserved Daddy time too, and I'm certain he will have loved it. 

Difficult though it can be; I'm sure it's worth blocking in some one to one time with our children.  I think it might be the thing that helps me get to know them best.  What do you think?

Ikea: A sonnet

How do we love you? Let me count the ways...
We love you for your deepest shade of blue
And for the car park full of vehicles there
parking for free, one hour or maybe two.

We love the random names of all your things;
The poangs, trofast, mammut and the malm.
The maps and all the arrows on the floor,
Play areas to keep the grown-ups calm.

But most of all the inexpensive food
Which fills us up with meatballs and with joy,
The refillable cups of tea for mum
And Daimbar cake for every growing boy.

A place to go on any rainy day
That doesn't break the bank - hip hip hooray!

Words

I spent some time looking after my beautiful God daughter yesterday.  (I think any mother of boys should endeavour to have a God daughter; endless excuse for girly behaviour and pink purchases...) Anyway, it all went well, and I was pleased to discover that she mastered some new words whilst she was with us - namely, apple (or 'bapple'), monkey ('dunkey') and sheep (OK - actually 'beep'!).

I'd semi-forgotten how much I like this phase.  Amelia is 21 months old now, and she's pretty much learning a new word every day.  How cool is that? I love the way you start to get an insight into what's going on in their amazing little heads.  Amelia has always had plenty of personality - but now she gets the chance to express it so much more.  I like the way they babble on, mostly unintelligibly, but just throwing in the odd understandable word.

It's not that long since my own children were doing a similar thing; but it's amazing to me how quickly it fades in your memory.  Joel used to call butterflies 'numenies', and Nathan mispronounced all sorts of things, but I'm starting to forget the details. My favourite of Nathan's is actually pretty recent:  We were all watching the Grand Prix together, and he was playing with some toy F1 cars and shouting; 'Come on Jenson Bottom!' (easy enough to guess who he meant there), and 'Come on Mrs Harrington!'  It took us a while to realise he meant Lewis Hamilton.  I laughed so much I thought I might burst.  I'm kind of hoping to keep these as an on-going family joke to be honest.

'Come on Mrs Harrington!'

I want to ride my bicycle...

I did some cycling today, by choice, just for fun.

There we go - I've said it.  Confession over.  I did exercise of my own free will.  Yes, I know - it was a lovely morning.  I never claimed to be anything other than a fair weather cyclist.  And part of my motivation was to get some time on my own.  Alone-time has been at a bit of a premium over the summer holidays. 

The thing is - I've never looked forward to exercise before.  It's an entirely new experience for me.  Maybe it's true, you really do just have to keep trying different things until you find something you like.  Odd really though, because I never liked cycling before...  The difference is made by having somewhere to cycle that you only have to tackle roads and/or hills if you want to.  I'm still avoiding hills - I'm too scared to go down them, and too unfit to go up them...  But - thanks to wonderful husband - I have now braved roads.  I can even balance well enough to signal if I'm turning somewhere...  I know - impressive stuff.

The cycling appears to be catching too.  Son number one has now mastered cycling without stabilizers, and son number two has mastered pedalling.  Surely it's only a matter of time before Sir Chris Hoy is coming round for tea! 
Hmmm...  do you think they have any family events in the 2012 Olympics?

A side order of self-confidence

Have you ever wished you could just go to the super market and buy something completely ethereal? I know I have...  When the boys were small, I used to wish (and sometimes still do actually) that I could just go and buy 48 hours sleep.  Or maybe a second pair of hands...

I think we can probably all list a number of impossible purchases that would make our lives better / easier / less stressful.  Personally, at the moment, I would really like a portion of boldness, with a side order of self-confidence. 

I'm doing a few things that go against my naturally reserved state at the moment, but the thing I really want to feel confident about is playing my guitar and singing at the same time.  This is not easy; I'm profoundly impressed by anyone who does it well, as it takes an awful lot of my brain power.  I'm playing and singing more at the church I go to; and so far, I think it's gone really well actually.  I would just love to be able to do it without feeling nervous and self conscious - after all - these people know me and love me, so how bad can it it actually be?

One of my favourite verses in the Bible is Joshua 1:9.  It says: 

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."(New International Version)

This is pretty clear really.  I don't need to worry, because God is always there with me; whether I'm playing the guitar in public or actually doing something properly scary.  Now I know not everyone believes in God, or that what the Bible says is true.  I do though - and I'm just wondering how amazing life would be if we  could actually manage to live out our lives according to some of these awesome promises.

John Ortberg has written a fabulous book (actually - he's written many - check out http://johnortberg.com/?page_id=2) called 'If you want to walk on water, you've got to get out of the boat'.  It looks at the famous incident in the Bible where Jesus walks on water, and Peter tries to walk to him (see Matthew 14).  The book explores how although this looks like a big failure for Peter, he was actually the only one brave enough to have a go; and how much he learned from this experience.  Then it goes on to look at how we only develop as people if we step out of our comfort zones and try something new.

So although it would be easier to just buy some boldness from a shop - I know I'll learn more from the process of doing the challenging thing.  I think the only true way to gain confidence is by facing up to the scary thing and doing it anyway.  So I guess it's time to just 'woman up' and get on with it...

Wobbly Tooth

Sometimes the smallest things can be the most profound...

My son Joel is five, and he has recently discovered his first wobbly tooth.  To him, this is exciting; a chance to ponder tooth fairies and what he might do with the coin that might appear under his pillow.

I was surprised to find that this small piece of news made me feel a bit emotional.  After all, I expected this to happen reasonably soon - Joel got his teeth early, so I'd always thought he'd lose them on the early side too. 

The thing that got me was the fact that it's a whole new developmental stage.  It's like a line in the sand, or any other transition I suppose.  My son is not a baby anymore.  Actually - anyone who knows him, knows that he hasn't been a baby for a long time.  Maybe it's just that it feels like the end of something.  Time has passed, and it's weird to think that your children are only small for such a short time, particularly as when you're in the middle of it, the small child phase feels never-ending because it is so all consuming.

Also, I think, it's time to celebrate.  I've nurtured Joel for six years (if you count the nine months I carried him!) and he's growing up well and doing everything he should be.  It's good to step back occasionally, and realise that time is running by.  Carpe Diem everyone; seize the day.

Food is not 'bad'

Am I the only person worried by how much schools are pushing 'healthy' eating? 

My elder son Joel has just finished his first year at primary school, and during that time he's learnt a lot about all sorts of things.  He's loved school, which of course is great.  His school have helped him settle in, and generally been brilliant; so I don't want this to sound like a disgruntled parent rant...

Don't misunderstand me - I'm all for children eating healthily.  My children have a pretty good diet, plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, sensible-ish amounts of protein, carbs etc etc.  Not too many sweets.  Even the odd bit of oily fish.  They aren't over-weight and their teeth aren't falling out.  All in all, they're a picture of health and energy - they're certainly active enough to be exhausting me over the summer holidays!

The thing is, Joel now regularly reads packaging on food and tells me how many calories there are in each portion, or how much fat they contain.  He asks me if they have too much salt, or too much sugar.  And I guess all of that is fair enough; what bothers me is how each food has been given the label of 'heathy' or 'unhealthy', 'good' or 'bad'. 

Joel recently told me that chocolate was unhealthy, which personally - I thought was a major disaster!  Not to mention a gross over simplification...  Chocolate has actually been shown to be good for all sorts of things. 

I don't think there are many foods that could truly carry the label 'bad', and I guess they'd be the ones full of artificial additives and things which when given to children, you knew that within 20 minutes you'd be scraping them off the ceiling. 

I think talking about how much your body needs of something, rather than whether it is good or bad has got to be the more sensible approach, especially where children are concerned.  Children are so impressionable, and at this early stage words from teachers are taken as gospel truth.  I think labelling any food as bad is potentially dangerous too, given that so many younger and younger children are considering dieting, and the rates of eating disorders in children and young teenagers are higher than ever.

Food is GOOD

The boys and I have just made a chocolate cake - we just won't eat it all today...

So here's the thing...

I've been married - mostly happily - for nine years now.  I know, I was a child bride...

The thing is, I married an engineer.  A nice, clever, exceedingly reliable engineer type chap.  Nothing shocking there, I know.  We pootled along quite nicely in the early stages, he even bought me 21 red roses for my 21st birthday; I know - romance truly displayed by engineer-brained man! 

Everyone knows though, that relationships don't stay the same.  We've been together over a decade now; got married, had two children, bought a family house, changed jobs etc etc.  Now, life is different, and romance isn't top of either of our agendas.  However - and herein lies the rub - it's much nearer the top of my agenda than it is on his.  So - what to do next...  Is there a way to keep us both happy?

There's a well known book called 'The Five Love Languages' by Gary Chapman. See  http://www.5lovelanguages.com/
It looks at how different people feel loved, by looking at what speaks to them:

1. affirming words
2. physical touch
3. thoughtful gifts
4. quality time
5. acts of service

These are the ways (or languages) you might experience love.  You can answer a quick quiz on this website - and it will tell you which love language you speak most strongly.  I've done this, and actually (unsurprisingly to me) it came out with affirming words.  The thing is - I actually speak them all.  And ironically, Paul doesn't really speak any, except possibly acts of service.  So what to do?

A wise man once told me that in order to remain 'in love' with your spouse, you have to keep doing the things you did when you were first together.  Feelings are fickle beasts, and will follow on if we perservere with loving our partner.  So - what did we do??  Well, one thing I know Paul really likes is going for long walks in the countryside - preferably with several maps etc...  So last week when his parents had the boys for us, that's what we did.  Quality time - check, affirming words - check, acts of service - check (if you count him helping me over a wobbly stile!)

So I'd like to know (with family friendly content - you know what I mean...)  what things your other half has done for you that have helped you feel loved?  How do you keep the romance in your relationship?  It's over to you...

The rainy day blues...

To the tune of any blues classic you've ever heard....


Woke up this morning (ba ba ba-ba-ba!)
Hoping for some sun
Looked out the window
But the rain had just begun

    I've got the blues
    Oh the rainy day blues

Gave my kids their breakfast
Waited for them to say
Their usual queston:
'Mum - can we go out to play?'

    They got the blues
    Oh the rainy day blues
    Ain't no need for shoes
    They got the rainy day blues

Everything is dripping
No washing on the line
The clock is ticking slowly
A tiny second at a time

    We got the blues
    We got the rainy day blues
    Trying not to blow a fuse
    We got the rainy day blues
   
    We got the blues
    Oh the rainy day blues
    And you know it's just no use
    Still got the rainy day blues



Thank goodness for CBeebies xxx

About Me

Hi there.

I'm Gill.  I'm 30 years old, and I've been married for nine years.  I have two fabulous but exhausting small boys - so in my house I am seriously outnumbered...

In my life before children (and a bit afterwards too - more about that later) I worked as a hospital based midwife at an average sized NHS hospital.  I enjoyed my work - but found the juggle between shift work, childcare, house work and life exceedingly difficult.  I left my job just after my first son started school, which I'm sure seemed odd to some people.  I realised that if things didn't feel easier then, they weren't going to - at least for a while.

I'm writing this as an outlet for my thoughts on life, love, the universe and everything really.  I'm interested in lots of things:  How do you fully embrace motherhood, and still keep a grasp of your own sense of self?  How can you stay happily married - can you keep romance in your relationship?  How can you look at the universe, or at your children, and think they weren't created by someone very, very clever?  How can anyone feel good about their figure, when there are beautiful, but very slender celebrity pictures everywhere you look?  What is the best chocolate brownie recipe in the world? The list is endless...

So here's hoping this is interesting to someone other than me! 
Gxx