Christmas Message

To all our friends and family both near and far

A bit of Christmas joy:

We wish you all a blessed Christmas, and a very Happy New Year

Gill, Paul, Joel and Nathan xxxx



Broadening your Education

On the way to school each morning we tend to listen to Radio 2.  One of the reasons for this is that it coincides with when Chris Evans plays his 'Super 70s Smasher'; a tune (unsurprisingly) from the 1970s.  This morning it was the Rolling Stones.  A crucial part of this feature - at least as far as my kids are concerned - is the competitive element: you have to try and name the year when the song was released.  Every day we guess - after all, these songs came out before I was born, let alone the boys - and we've been keeping a tally for weeks now of how many each of us have got right.  Joel is thrilled that he has been right more times than I have...  It's always a trauma if Chris forgets to tell us the year though; I have to go home and ask Mr Google...

It got me thinking again about how important it is to teach your children things they may well never learn about in school.  I've mentioned before how Jimi Hendrix has saved our school run.  I'm disproportionately proud when Joel can name the band he's listening to...  I mean - I know it's not going to save any lives or anything - but it pleases me that he can recognise Stevie Wonder or the Jackson Five.

I'm thinking about making the boys an album of seminal tracks.  Music that all kids everywhere should grow up with as part of their DNA.  But where to begin...  I know I could make an epically long play list - but I don't want to do that.  If you were making a CD, and had maybe 15 tracks as your limit - what would you put on it?  What song is so important that you would put it on there?

Thinking back to my own childhood music recipe; I mostly remember Eric Clapton, Abba, Simon & Garfunkel, The Beatles and Carole King. My Dad used to pilfer guitar riffs from all over the place though when he led worship at our church. It was only relatively recently that I discovered the opening chord sequence he used for a song called 'Rejoice, Rejoice' was actually from 'Substitute'by The Who...   I suppose it was one way of broadening our musical education!

So what would be on your list?  The Beatles?  The Rolling Stones?  U2?  Mozart??? 

I may be some time...

The Questions people ask...

When you enter the 'both children at school' phase of life, people ask you some marvellous questions... 

"What do you do all day?" (Probably the most common - I'm not going to rant - but it's safe to say; I'm not just sat on my rear watching Daytime TV...)

"When are you going back to work?"  Because combining shift work with the school run is just so much fun...

But my personal favourite:

"Are you going to have another baby?"

Seriously?

I have to get over my initial urge to just laugh maniacally.  No, I'm not.  If I was going to do that - I would have done it already; not waited until I had a bit of spare time - and then filled it with morning sickness, more stretch marks and additional sleep deprivation... 

Any of you who have ever read my blog know that I love my children a lot; after all - I talk about them enough.  They are marvellous, brilliant, funny, bright, insightful, *insert additional superlatives here* But I still don't want another one.

One of my good friends is pregnant at the moment with her second baby, and she's really struggling with her pelvis.  I had some pelvic problems; particularly in my second pregnancy; so empathy is not a problem.  Watching her struggle to move around, I can almost feel that pain again.  I know that, even amidst her pain, she is not regretting being pregnant.  I'm glad that I'm a bit more available to help; having kids at school does release you a bit to do other things - even if that is to help others with their babies...

So, dear reader - I am quitting whilst I'm ahead.
And if I ever feel the need to cuddle a baby - I'm sure I'll be able to find one...

Harvest Festivals - the Trilogy

This morning I went to my third and final Harvest Festival of the year.  Once your children get to school, you don't do these things once - oh no...  once is for wimps!

The first of these was Joel's.  Years one and two in school trek off to the local parish church; sing some songs, and listen to a chat from the vicar there.  All good fun.  I particularly enjoyed not having a squirming toddler on my knee.  In years gone by, I have been the parent chasing a wiggly and noisy toddler about whilst everyone else is trying to hear their pride and joy say their one line in the school production.  It was nice to not have to think about taking enough toys / snacks / nappies to get through thirty minutes, plus the always-longer-than-you-think waiting for something to actually happen time.  I also particularly enjoyed the kids singing 'Cauliflowers fluffy'; with additional dance moves.  Marvellous.

The second Harvest Festival was actually a harvest / thanksgiving / 1st birthday service at our church (how's that for multi-tasking?!)  Our congregation have been meeting in the local primary school for a year now.  It was a good chance to celebrate all that has happened over the last year; and to thank God for all He has given us individually and corporately.  We did this through the medium of huge ice-cream Sundaes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, singing, bacon sandwiches and prayers of thanks chalked on the playground. We have learnt a lot over the past year, and look forward to what God has for us in the years to come.  I'm sure God would have us dream big dreams for our future together; after all, as Bill Hybels would say: "The local church is the hope of the world". 

My third and final part of my Harvest Festival trilogy was this morning.  The Nursery and Reception age children aren't traipsed down to the church - they do their celebrating in the school Hall.  They all came in wearing headbands with certain vegetable pictures attached; Nathan was a cabbage...  They told us the story of Oliver's Vegetables; where a small boy searches his Grandad's vegetable patch in the hope of finding some potatoes to make some chips; in the process, he finds lots of other vegetables, which of course turn out to be very tasty...  My favourite part of the proceedings had to be the rousing rendition of 'Big Red Combine-Harvester'.  They were brilliant.

So what have I learnt from my Harvest Trilogy?  Well, I've certainly learnt that it's hard to pick songs that are perky tunes, fun for the kids and that actually thank God for the amazing things he gives us.  What's your favourite harvest song?  My personal favourite is probably 'Blackberries in the Hedges', but no-one around here seems to know that one...

Also, and I know this makes me sound old, but there is always something to be thankful for.  I think whether it's the joy on a child's face as he sings, the fact that you don't have to worry about wiggly toddlers, or something bigger like the sun and the rain that help things grow.  God has given us so many things, and I think it does our perspective and mental health endless good to be grateful.  Life might not always be easy (I know, no surprises there) and I'm not advocating pretending life is all shiny when it isn't; however, I know I'm more likely to be content if I focus on the multiple blessings from my heavenly Father than on the things that bug me, or that I don't have.

Today, try to cultivate (ooh, appropriate gardening term alert... pleasing!) an Attitude of Gratitude.  What are you thankful for?

School runs, 'the wall' and Jimi Hendrix

This Sunday one of my friends from church ran the Berlin Marathon.  I know, crazy chap.  Aaron ran the Marathon, because he wanted to - but also to raise money to support Christians Against Poverty; a marvellous charity helping people out of poverty - but also helping people avoid getting into debt in the first place.  There's still time to sponsor him if you like; just go to his Just Giving page.

I haven't seen Aaron yet since Sunday, so I don't know how it all went.  I was thinking about him this morning, and wondering if he had hit 'the wall'.  The metaphorical wall (after all, I'm hoping he managed not to run into any real ones...) when your legs turn to jelly, and you just feel like you can't go on...

I wondered this, because this morning - Nathan hit 'the wall'...

I kind of expected that this would happen at some point.  The novelty of going to school has worn off now; but it hasn't quite yet been replaced by the stamina required to make it through without tears.  He was properly tired this morning, and sad. 

"Can I stay at home with you, Mummy?"  "The day is too long..."  "Will you come in with me?" *generalised sobs*

He even tried to bargain with me, and ask if I would pick him up at lunch time.  If he can negotiate like that whilst crying and only four - hopefully he'll have the Middle East peace process all sorted by the time he is ten.

I gently cajoled him through the process of getting ready for school.  Breakfasted, dressed, clean(ish) and ready, he sat in the car - still crying - until the radio came on.  Thank heaven for Jimi Hendrix...

After a couple of bars of the opening guitar riff, the tears were forgotten.  Well - at least till we got to school.  Bless him; nothing soothes the pain of school like a bit of awesome guitar. 

He went into school, a bit sad again - but not as sad as he could have been.  I've promised him fish fingers for tea, in honour of his perseverance.  I think I might be cooking favourite teas all week actually.

So - what do you do when you hit the wall?  Just keep running.  That and listening to some Hendrix anyway.

School days

So it finally happened...

I remember, back in the haze of exhaustion of looking after a toddler and a baby, I foolishly calculated how long it would be before my boys were both at school.  It was a long time away; I must have been crazy to even think about it at the time.  I think sleep deprivation makes you go a bit bonkers.  Don't get me wrong, I love both my kids very much; but during the relentlessness that is parenthood with tiny ones, I briefly looked forward to the halcyon day when someone else would be responsible for them - if only for a portion of the time...

We're now over half way through Nathan's second week at school.  How did that happen?  The baby mentioned above is now a truly handsome four year old.  Astounding.

He's enjoying school.  I know it helps that he's been going to the school each day with Joel for longer than he can remember - in fact when Joel was in Reception, Nathan used to cry each morning because he wasn't allowed in!  Nathan also did his Pre-school year at the School's Nursery; so he's feeling pretty at home.  He knows about half of his class already; so I guess it's just like he moved room for him really.

It's going to take a while to build up the stamina for school though.  They're all a bit tired out by doing five full days.  According to their super-TA, one of them fell asleep yesterday afternoon during their story time.  Ah well, I can think of afternoons when I would happily do the same.

So, to my lovely friends still battling the baby / toddler phase.  It really does go faster than you think.  Enjoy your little ones.  Nathan's still little really; in comparison to Joel (he's 6 going on 36) - who's coming home full of details of the scientific experiments they've been doing, and asking me ever more difficult questions such as "why can't you see gravity?"...

Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think...

Anniversaries

Last month Paul and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary.  I know - doesn't time fly...  We celebrated the day with a number of friends and family.  Here we are cutting a cake that I made:

This cake is a copy of the middle tier of our chocolate wedding cake, although the flowers are a slightly less demure colour than they were on the original... 

It's amazing to think that we've been married for a decade.  Apart from the fact that we obviously don't look old enough (well - in our heads anyway... ) it just seems like a decade would feel longer somehow.

Not that we've been idle in the last ten years.  Anything but...  In the decade we have got married, bought our first house, finished my degree, got my first proper job, got pregnant (twice!), given birth (twice!!), bought a bigger house (necessitated by previous activities in list...), given up job...  and that's just the big things.  I think it's the little things that really pass the time.  Somewhere between your first child's first tooth appearing, and it falling out you've passed through five years - but been too busy to notice really.

Still, surely the next decade can't be so eventful...  But who knows?  In my head though - I have entitled the next decade "carry on!"  By that I mean that it probably won't be filled with so many new things (or children!), but it will be carrying on with the ones I have...

Another anniversary crept by without me even noticing.  My one year blogging anniversary passed me by at the start of this month - probably as I've been a bit tardy on the old blogging front recently...  I'm grateful to all of you who have read and commented on my blog over the past year (after all - nobody likes the thought they that are just wittering on to themselves!...)  I was wondering if you had a favourite post over the last year?  Or maybe a type of post you'd like me to write more of...  more Ikea-related poetry perhaps...  I hope the blog will continue to be of interest, maybe funny at times, encouraging etc... 

Anyway...

Carry on!

Precious

I've recently bought a limited edition (ooh-er) shower gel (not so ooh-er) that calls itself "Precious".  It's supposedly made with Jasmin and Cotton Milk...  I'm not sure it makes me feel more precious, but it smells nice, and it is a girly pink shade - so it can't be all bad.

It did prompt me to remember a song I know by a singer songwriter called Martyn Joseph:

This song always makes me realise that ache that we all have inside to feel precious; to be valued; to be cherished...

The pearl in someone's hand.

I think many of us struggle to feel like that. 
We doubt our own value, often linking it to our achievements.  I have many young friends who have just finished exams, and the pressure to achieve has been immense.  Don't get me wrong.  I know studying is important; but the moment the results you get seem to explicitly affect your value as a person - things have gone badly wrong. 

There are many other things that we rely on to boost our self image.  Things like how attractive we are, how popular we are, or how influential we think we are.  These things are so precarious.  Relying on any of these sorts of things is fraught with uncertainty.  Unless we find something or someone entirely trustworthy and unchanging, we are destined to never be secure in our value or anything else.

Thankfully, we don't have to waste our time and energy worrying about these things.  In fact, if we take the Bible at it's word (something I'm trying to do a lot more...), we don't have to worry at all.  In Matthew 6 it says:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

So today - even if you don't know anything else - know that you're precious to a God who made you just the way you are, and who is capable of meeting any need you might have.  And that can do more for you than Jasmin and cotton milk ever could.

Anyone for tennis?

This weekend I had the chance to go and see the semi-finals of the tennis at the Queen's club.  My friend Clare - a school friend I hadn't seen in years - is properly into tennis, and she enters the ballot for tickets for Wimbledon and Queen's every year.  It was my good fortune that she'd got tickets for this year, and that she was looking for someone to go with her.  Hoorah! :o)  Here we are, enjoying the sunshine...:

We travelled down as a family, as the boys thought it would be a good opportunity to go and do some London things...  They dropped me off, and went to visit the Monument, Tower Bridge and have a general wander about.  This obviously had to involve going on a tube train.  Small boy heaven...

I met up with Clare, and we had the chance to catch a little bit of the Doubles Quarter-finals, before heading into Centre Court for the main event...:

Andy Murray was in impressive form.  A bit too impressive for us actually, as we would have liked the match to go on a bit longer.  Still, it's great to think that Andy is in this sort of form before Wimbledon, and he showed he can battle through a longer, grittier match by beating Jo Wilfred Tsonga in the final yesterday...

After Andy Murray had finished his demolition of Andy Roddick, we got to see James Ward have a good tustle with Tsonga.  I was chuffed that I'd got to see two Brits on my first ever trip to a tennis tournament.  James did very well.  I'm sure we'll be seeing more of him.  I'm glad his run at Queen's has got him a wild-card for Wimbledon; he certainly deserves it.

A lot of spectators left at this point, but for those of us who stayed - there was a feast of Doubles.  We even saw arguably the best doubles exponents of all time - the Bryan twins.  If you want to be good at doubles, play with your twin - one right-handed, one left-handed - start practicing when you're tiny, and basically read each other's minds...  Amazing to watch...

The end of the day came, and the rest of my family snuck in to find me...  Even being given some souvenir tennis balls on the way:

So now we are playing tennis in the garden even more than we were before.  Joel likes to pretend he's Andy Murray or Rafael Nadal...  Good choices, I'm sure you'll agree.  At the moment, Nathan just wants to be the ball boy :o)

Let's look at the map

Last week, as it was half term, it seemed like a good idea to let Joel (and thus, all of us...) have a go at orienteering...

Paul (aka Daddy), really enjoyed orienteering at school, and at university - as it combines two of his great loves; running and maps.  Recently, Paul has done a few orienteering events with a local club - The Octavian Droobers - and having talked to Joel about it, he was really keen to have a go.

So, on Wednesday afternoon, we packed a picnic, put on our sporty clothes(!), and set off for some woods near Harbury.

I have to confess to being slightly dubious.  After all, I am really not built for running; I'm pretty terrible at it.  I'm also prone to turning the map round when navigating, much to the amusement of my husband...  Also, the event started at 6pm - which is always tea-time in our house...  I wondered if the changes to the usual routine and general exhaustion might be a recipe for disaster.  Not to mention wondering what would happen if the smallest boy just decided he couldn't go any further... 

We got there early, and thanks to some spectacular organisation (by the organisers...) we were actually able to start at 5:30pm...  Marvellous.

They gave us a map (see below...), and an electronic gizmo, and then we had to start at the triangle, and navigate ourselves round the course - using our clever gizmo to show we'd found all the control points.  (NB - for the uninitiated - these are red and white flags, with numbers to search for...  A genius plan if you're trying to get children like mine to find anything: 'Come on, who can find number 118??'  Very clever...)

My cunning plan was to all stay together, but let Paul and Joel run ahead a bit - which allowed Nathan and me the chance to catch up whilst they were navigating where we were going next.  Amazingly, this pretty much worked...  Although it required running - it was short sharp bursts of running, whilst encouraging Nathan along - the best sort of running.  Nathan did also require the occasional piggy back - whilst also had the additional feature of slowing Paul down.  Very useful.

We made it round in the respectable time of 30:36, which wasn't bad considering three out the four of us had never done anything like this before...  We were also pretty chuffed when we discovered our Result! (click on the link and find us if you can...)

We all felt we'd very much earned our picnic afterwards; although (naturally) Paul didn't eat anything until he'd gone out and completed a much longer and more difficult course...

So - all in all, we had a good time together out in the sunshine, with exercise, and maps, and a crash course in how to use a compass, and a picnic tea.  Can't be bad.  Worth trying if you fancy doing some running, but don't want to be bored...

Cupcakes

I know I am not the most gifted cake baker in the world.  I have friends who are far better at it than I am; especially the part that involves making them look pretty.  I guess that's the bit where it moves from cookery (where I'm not bad) to art (where I'm a bit ropey to be honest...). 

Still, there's something really great about baking things with and for your kids.  It's Nathan's 4th birthday tomorrow (I know, where does the time go? My baby starts school in September... A post for another day...). He asked if we could take some cakes into nursery, and we did it today - as he won't be there tomorrow.

So here they are:



I know they could be neater, more glamorous and generally more artistic, but I think they're great.  Behold the glorious Rainbow Buttons, marvel at the little marshmallows, but above all - salute the Dolly Mixtures.  King of sweets.  Glorious variety in one little bag.  Marvellous.

You could understandably look at these and see blobs of cholesterol... 

But I see time spent with my kids, where we weighed stuff out (their favourite bit of the process...); where they cracked eggs without me freaking out about the shells going in (this has been a learning curve for me - I did fish a couple of little bits out...); Lots of stirring - without me having to hassle them to keep it in the bowl (a minor miracle! Tip - use a BIG bowl...), Blobbing of cake mixture (into the cases - I know, another miracle...), and counting down the minutes till the cakes were ready.  Not to mention, decorating the cakes without eating all the sweets at the same time. 

Miracles really do happen every day.

Meet the veggies!

Since my last blog and strawberry related discussion, I can report that our new strawberry plants in the garden are doing well, and actually now have something resembling strawberries on them.  Nathan is, of course, very suspicious of them - as they are tiny and not even red.  Ah well, at least I know he won't try and pick them before they're ready.

In other garden related news (I know, scintilating stuff this gardening!), the great tits in the bird box definitely have some babies.  You can hear them tweeting away (yes, real tweeting - not social networking...) just by standing in the garden.  I'm hoping to catch sight of them at some point...

And finally for this little blog post, something (also garden related - I know - it's seemless isn't it?!) to hopefully make you smile.  Any of you who have to spend a certain amount of time each day with CBeebies will hopefully recognise this...

Toxic Strawberries

Before getting down to the point of this blog...  Does anyone think 'The Toxic Strawberries' would be a good band name?  I just wrote it down, and immediately thought it sounded like a rock band.  Ah well, I digress, and before I've even started...  Could be an ominous sign...

Anyway, carry on!...

Yesterday, Nathan and I bought some new strawberry plants, along with a few others, and planted them out in our garden.  We've been attempting to grow our own fruit and vegetables with limited success over the last few years.  Last year we managed lots of potatoes, a heap of green (should have been red) tomatoes which ended up as chutney, a few dodgy looking carrots and parsnips, and three baby corn-on-the-cob...  We did also grow some impressive looking courgette plants, without courgettes on... Oh well, never mind.

My motivation for trying again, was Nathan's appalled reaction to the shop bought strawberries we had recently.  Although Nathan happily eats other strawberry (OK...  jam) based products, he obviously hadn't eaten an actual strawberry for a while; and thus had decided that they were not just unpleasant, but down right dangerous.

Of course, the fact that the rest of the family were happily tucking into the strawberries didn't seem to help.  You would have thought I was trying to make him eat a raw oyster, or some sort of creepy-crawly from a bush-tucker trial.  The strawberries were, in fact, toxic - and no amount of cajoling was going to convince him otherwise.

In the end, I did what a lot of parents do.  I told him he couldn't get down until he'd eaten the strawberry; and in the end he did eat it.  I think, despite all the angst, he did actually like it in the end. 

Thinking back on Strawberry-gate; I am thankful that we have incidents like that relatively rarely now.  Nathan had a very difficult food phase (by phase, I mean year...) after being ill for a month with a bug, and then an ear infection when he was 18 months old...  He hardly ate any normal food for a month, and afterwards, he seemed to have forgotten how.  Out of nowhere, almost all foods had moved from the 'OK' category in his head to the 'probably toxic - avoid at all costs' area.  We spent the next year slowly re-introducing foods, until he was finally eating something resembling a normal diet.  It was a very difficult and stressful time, and I'm so thankful that we are basically over that now.

And so, we will grow our own strawberries.  Water them.  Talk to them.  Give them straw beds to sleep on, etc. etc.  And hope that by the time they are ready to eat, a certain person will have decided they are not toxic after-all...

In the mean time, I might buy some more from the supermarket.  Let the desensitization commence!

I was made for this

What do Bruce Springsteen, Steppenwolf and Vin Diesel's character xXx have in common?

*Obscure connection alert*

They all know what they were born to do. 

They were born to run, be wild, and 'for this ****' (ie jumping off tall buildings whilst shooting at random bad guys etc...) respectively.

I know it's sometimes difficult to know what you were made to do.  Sometimes it's difficult to know what to do from one day (or hour) to the next.  I know that life with small children can make it very difficult to see beyond the end of your own nose, and that actually - just keeping everybody fed and clean, and not so sleep deprived that they are constantly crying (this applies to both big and small people) is enough to be managing, without thinking about anything more long term.

I know young people (I know this makes me sound like an old bag, but bear with me...) find this whole thing particularly stressful.  From early on at secondary school they are expected to be making choices with an eye on their future career path.  Just studying History because you like History isn't seen as good motivation... You have to know where you are going with everything.  It's easy to feel completely at sea.  Like you're drifting aimlessly with no real purpose.

It's at times like this when I cling onto the promises I find in the Bible.  Things like:

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you."  Jeremiah 29:11-12

I find it amazing that God has even given me a single thought.  After all, He does have quite a lot to be getting on with.  But there it is in black and white; He doesn't just think about me - He has plans and purposes for me and my little life.  Amazing.

In his time on earth, Jesus was passionate in his desire to help people become all they were created to be.  He claimed:

"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." John 10:10

It's reasonable to state that this is still what Jesus longs to do for every person.  I'm sure that it is. However, sometimes I wonder if I would recognise 'life to the full' if it jumped up and bit me...  I can be so preoccupied with other things.  So easily distracted.

And yet, sometimes I catch a glimpse - a tantalizing taste - of what life can be like. 

I had one of those moments on Sunday evening at church when I was leading the worship.  All the elements of the service had come together as if we'd spent hours planning it (which we hadn't!), and we were singing a song that I just knew was going to be right for that moment.  The band and the congregation were altogether as one unit, singing about the amazing God who we have come to know and love, because He first loved us - and gave everything for us. 

And I just felt like God whispered in my ear...  "I made you for this".  In that instant, I knew there was nowhere in the world I'd rather be, and nothing I'd rather be doing.  I was 100% me, living life to the full, and loving every second.

I felt humbled and yet so joyful that - for that moment in time at least - I was doing exactly what I was created for. 

I guess that's maybe how it works.  We don't always see the big picture, or where it is we're heading.  All we can do is try to offer up each moment to the God who has the plans, and do our best to walk where He's leading.

Good things, Bad things...

Life is a never ending cycle of good things and bad things...

Sometimes these can be one and the same thing - just viewed a different way...

Take the Easter Holidays for example:

Good Things:

• No school run (Hooray!)
• Sunshine
• Less plans
• Less rushing
• Time with family
• Easter itself

Bad Things:    

• Less time to myself
• Less time for blogging (apologies - I know it's been ages)
• Hay fever
• Suncream wars (the familiar sequel to the Sunhat wars...)
• Endless Creepy-crawly evictions due to warm weather, and newly phobic small boy...

I'm sure you could add more to your list...

Maybe life is a lesson in learning to focus on the positive, rather than the negative.

After all, who wants to be miserable?
                     
                     

Simply take...

Simply take, a tired and slightly worn out person - a mother of small children is best

Sprinkle with sunshine...

Remind said person that it isn't actually winter anymore.

Exercise.  I find a bike ride is best.  This encourages wakefulness, and also feelings of post-exercising virtuous-ness.

Plunge in shower.
Rinse off dirt, snot, grime, and any other debris. 
Complete ablutions until satisfactorily clean and smooth.

Dry.

Moisturise.

Steer towards wardrobe. 
Remind subject that clothes other than jeans exist.
Dress according to taste.

Provide cup of tea to get over the shock of wearing skirt.

Consider painting toe-nails.
Decide not to get carried away.  It is only April after all.

Straighten hair.
Add necessary accompaniment to face; in this case - a smile.

And now you're done.
You're not just a mummy.  You're a nearly ready for summer, even if it's gone a bit cloudy mummy.

Momentum

I am not a physicist.  (That sounded like some sort of confession, didn't it...  Hello, my name's Gill, and I am not a physicist.)  However, I do still understand a little of the physics I learnt at school.  I feel I should apologise to Mrs Johnston; possibly the best physics teacher in the world, for not understanding more - but it has been a while...  I'm sure she would forgive me.

Whilst cycling with Nathan today, I felt I had a lesson-worthy demonstration of momentum...  As we cycled together, it was a lot of effort to get moving - after all, moving myself, Nathan, my bike and our tag along bike 'Caroline' is a lot of weight, and thus a great deal of inertia to overcome.  Actually, maybe the greatest inertia was getting myself off the sofa...  Still, we got moving.

What surprised me though, was how much less effort it was to keep going at a steady pace.  Whilst we were cycling a long at an even pace (not fast you understand... I wasn't built for speed!) we could pootle along quite happily.  If however, we slowed down for some reason, it was so much more effort getting back up to speed.  On the way home, when I was getting a bit tired, I found myself not wanting to slow down - as I knew I would just have to use more energy to get up to speed again.  When we were up to speed, we were benefiting from momentum.

Whilst cycling, I realised that inertia and momentum are not just physical phenomena; they can be emotional and spiritual too.

Did you give up anything for lent?  I didn't actually; mainly because I didn't want to give myself more hoops to jump through. I just wanted to concentrate on doing the things I was already trying to do.  One of the things I am doing is trying to read through the Bible in a year.  This is something I started half-way through January.  It took a bit of motivation to overcome my inertia, but now I'm reading it each day - it has become a good habit, and thus I have some momentum.

I guess this thought could apply to anything where you get in the groove of doing something, so it just gets that little bit easier.  Giving up smoking / going to an exercise class / speaking to new people when you're a bit shy / playing a piece of music you find challenging...  The list is huge when you start to think about it.

I guess it's also worth remembering that negative things can have a way of gaining momentum too...  Once you're in a group of people gossipping and saying negative things about someone, it's a whole lot harder to back out of the conversation.  Your mouth can gain momentum much more quickly than your brain I think...  The best example of this however, is probably how hard it is to stop eating Maltesers when there's a pack of them open, and you've already eaten three...  I guess Einstein never worried too much about the addictive powers of confectionary.

Here's hoping we can gain momentum with all things good.

I laughed until I cried

Chris Evans (he of Radio 2 Breakfast Show fame - amongst other things...) earlier said that children on average laugh over 60 times a day, where as us adults only manage a measly 14. 

And so today, to help your laughter count,I give you MercyMe, and their 'Cover Tune Grab Bag'...  MercyMe are a 'proper' band, with some really good tunes, however - this is them, letting their hair down a bit.  Make sure you watch till at least 2:06...  So funny...

Thank you so much to Anna at lifeinthelittletreehouse for putting me on to this x

Spring. a bird-house in your soul... and skipping!

As Ogden Nash would say:

"Spring has sprung
The grass is riz
I wonder where the boidys is...
The boid is on the wing
But that's absurd
I always thought the wing was on the boid"

Actually - the boid - OK, have to change to 'bird' now - the bird isn't on the wing anymore, it's in the bird-house (apologies - couldn't resist a They Might Be Giants link - such a good song...) in my garden.

I'm disproportionately excited that there are now a pair of Great Tits nesting in the bird-house on the ash tree in our back garden.  We put up the bird-house three Springs ago, and although a few birds have popped in to have a look since then, we've never had any-birdy decide to stay.  Will have to keep a look out for any babies now...  Will keep you posted.

I love Spring.  Especially Spring like today, which is blue-skyed, warm - but not boiling, and (for me) before the evilness that is hay fever.  Spring is so full of hope and joy and all things seem new. 

Have you seen any lambs yet?  I haven't.  Still, I have got my own little skipping chap to fulfill the cuteness quotient...  Nathan has obviously been practising skipping at nursery, and his deliberate, slightly wobbly but very committed skip is one of the cutest things I have ever seen... See for yourself:

Nathan skipped into nursery this morning, holding my hand and saying: "Come on Mummy!" Well, there was nothing for it, I had to skip too.  It made him happy, but it actually made me happy too; even when I got a couple of funny looks.  I did also get a couple of compliments on my skipping too though - from Mums who understood...

Michael McIntyre is a skipping fan too as you can see here...  So there you go.  This truly is public service blogging today; covering both the cutest and the funniest things you'll see all week - or possibly even all year!

Enjoy the sunshine x

Reflections on a poo pile - part 2

I wrote part one of this blog a while back - so if you haven't read it, you might want to click here to catch up with part one; otherwise this won't make much sense...

Done?  Good.

So, the big pile of poo is gone.  Spread out all over the field to do it's (quite literally) dirty work... Actually, it only took the farmer and his (very fascinating to small boys) machinery a few hours to sort out.

Prior to the spreading, it had got to a point of just sitting there, present - but not really noticeable.  I remember this time last year, when the previous poo pile was hiding under a layer of snow, trying to be even less conspicuous.  I don't think it's stretching the analogy too far to say that sometimes the rubbish (or poo pile) in our lives can just sit there, not dealt with, not benefiting the surroundings - just being ignored...

The thing is, whilst the muck spreading was going on, the poo was smellier than ever.  Moving the poo somehow released the smell to a new and smelly height. For the unfortunate farmer tasked with this smelly job, it would have been less stinky to leave the poo in a big pile - but then how would it have done it's job of nourishing the soil?  Of course, it wouldn't have. 

So today, I guess I want to encourage you...  If you are dealing with something difficult, with your own (hopefully metaphorical) pile of poo; keep going.  I think it was Winston Churchill who said: "If you are going through hell, keep going" as obviously he understood that the alternative was to stay where you are... 

I know that God can bring good out of seemingly hopeless situations...  He is, as stated in part one, the master recycler...

My prayer is that God will take hold of the struggles that you have and, as Rastamouse would say: "make a bad ting good".

Always look on the bright side of life?

This morning, my children got up - and having had a brief cuddle in bed with us - went downstairs to find something more interesting to do.  Halfway down the stairs, they paused, and looked out of the window.  This is the interchange I heard...:

Nathan: "Look Joel, it's a lovely day."
Joel: "But there's grey clouds, and it's been raining."
Nathan: "Look, it's a lovely day; it's not snowing!"
Joel: "Ahh. It doesn't look lovely to me; but you're right - it's not snowing..."

I love it when you get to overhear a bit of what goes on in your children's heads.  Especially when they don't know you're listening...

As I lay in bed, I mused about their differing perspectives on the same view. 

Nathan does seem to be a die-hard optimist.  I guess this is partially just down to being three, but not entirely.  His outlook on life does tend to be sunny.  He has a gift of being able to see the positive in things, as evidenced by the above conversation.  He's also very encouraging; last week at church, I was playing the guitar and leading the worship; we sang one of Nathan's favourite songs.  In the brief pause at the end, Nathan exclaimed (at classic 3 year-old volume - ie loud): "That was great Mummy, Well done!"

There's something great about receiving encouragement from someone too young to have learnt how to be economical with the truth... You know it must be genuine.

I think Nathan has probably got his positive and optimistic outlook on life from me.  All that celebrating small victories has rubbed off on him I guess.  I know I've said this many times before, but when you're parenting small children, you never know when the next big victory is going to come - it might be ages; so celebrating the little ones is vital for the mental health I think... "You put your socks on yourself!...HIGH FIVE!"

Joel is very much a realist.  He lives in the real world at all times; and at five - going on thirty-five - you can already trust his assessment of a situation to be reliable.  Joel lives in a very black and white world, and not just because he's colour blind...  He doesn't like uncertainty, or maybe, or possibly, or in a bit... He likes empirical, yes/no, and today we'll be leaving at 16:38  which means we'll be staying here for another 98 minutes.

This doesn't mean that he can't be encouraging; it just means that he'll do it in his own way - and entirely in line with his view of the world.  No exaggeration allowed...  This does mean that any positive comment from him carries even more weight.  On the day when I score 9.3 out of 10 for the evening meal that I cooked (you see - empirical!) like I did yesterday, I know that I really did do well...

I think there's a balance to be struck... Can you be an optimistic realist?  I think so.  I hope that I am...

And there's the thing: Hope.  Not some sort of airy fairy optimism that hasn't got any roots or substance, but hope, which can look down the barrel of the difficult thing - and hope anyway, knowing that all things are possible with God.  In a well known passage from 1 Corinthians 13 it says:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

I think God probably is an optimistic realist...  What do you think?

Whirly-gig Wonders

Today I faced the age-old dilemma faced by Mums (Dads / Grans etc... other carers are available...) everywhere.  Do I hang the washing out or not?

I know.  Earth shattering stuff.

The sky was part blue, part white and part grey...  It wasn't warm, but it wasn't freezing either.  I wasn't convinced that it would stay rain-free, but it was so windy outside, I had to give it a try.  It was what they call Up North, 'a good drying day'...

However, once I got the washing, pegs and rotary washing line (aka Whirly-gig) out, I realised - this was going to be no easy task...

The wind was so strong.  Unbelieveably strong.  More 'top-of-mountain' strong than 'random-suberb' strong...  As soon as I got one thing on the line, the thing spun round and round again...  I must have looked like a crazy woman; trying to hold onto the line, the pegs, and bending down to find the next sock - all at the same time.

I know that in Matthew Jesus commanded the wind and it calmed down - but I can tell you - it didn't work for me today.  Apparently God was more concerned with saving people's lives in the New Testament than He was in helping me hang out my washing...  Fair enough I guess.  I did feel like I'd done a few rounds with Mike Tyson though by the time I'd finished.  Not my most glamorous day.

I did benefit from the wind though.  After a couple of hours, the sky looked threatening - so I thought I'd take the washing in - and it was already dry.  Marvellous.  I am in fact the Queen of Laundry...

Do I get a crown with that?

Curve-ball Questions and Winter Warmers

Yesterday I went on a school trip with Joel to Kenilworth Castle.  This was good fun, although it was exceedingly cold...  It was bitter, particularly in the morning when it was grey and blustery.  The sun did make a valiant attempt to break through later on though; unfortunately, by the time it had had any noticeable affect on the temperature - it was time to get back on the coach...  Oh well, that's life I suppose.

We had never been more appreciative of coats, hats, gloves, scarves and wellies. And for the flask of tea which I'd brought...  We huddled together for warmth like penguins.  Shivery doesn't cover it.

Part of the day was spent following 'English Heritage James' around different parts of the castle.  EHJ had an interesting job keeping the kids interested, but he did it well; asking the children to compare the rooms / ruins we were in, with their equivalent rooms / ruins at home.  The things that are obvious to adults aren't always the things children notice however - and this did lead to some slightly unusual questions and comments from the little darlings...:

"When is it lunch-time?" (When we'd just arrived...)
"If I was rich, I wouldn't have a picture of Samuel Pepys on my wall"
"Are you a doctor?"
Child: "Oak isn't wood" EHJ "Yes it is, it comes from oak trees" Child: "No it doesn't"
"Where are the horses now? Are they dead?"
"Did the princesses do any jousting?"
"I couldn't find any treacle balls..." (trebuchet - I think...)

EHJ coped manfully with the curve-balls he was thrown, considering the complete unpredictability of children and what they will ask...  The children left happy, having had a brilliant day.  To be honest, they were thrilled just by the coach ride there and back; so all the fun in-between was just a bonus.

Whilst looking out the window on the way home, we noticed a field of horses - also wearing their winter warmers...  They had quilted coats on.  You know it really is cold when the animals need clothes.  I was musing with a fellow mum that maybe the horses could have done with hats, gloves or maybe ear-muffs...  Oh how we laughed...

"I feel pretty..."

Don't ask me why I'm wandering around singing songs from 'West Side Story'...  Heaven only knows.  I am (completely unreasonably) blaming my friend Sarah - who I recently went to see perform spectacularly in a local production of Iolanthe (no - not even close to West Side Story - I know)...  Just seems to have made me remember every musical theatre production I have ever been in, or even seen...

Still, any excuse for a good sing...

Today I am extra pleased having bought a couple of items of new clothes from the local fashion house (Sainsbury's), that not only fit, but were in the sale, and look nice.  Marvellous. 

Brilliant timing too actually, as I have recently killed yet another pair of jeans...  I don't know what it is about me and jeans - but generally speaking - the relationship never lasts long, and they always end up dead!  Ah well, just as well my relationship with jeans has no correlation with my relationship with people... 

Anyway, moving on...

Last week when it was raining (again), and we were stuck in the house (again) I decided to calculate my BMI.  BMI (or Body Mass Index) is a guide which uses your weight and your height to calculate whether you are a healthy weight - or not.  There are other ways to do this, and it's by no means a cast iron rule, but it gives you an idea.

I guess writing about my Dad losing weight in my last post made me think about it.  Since having my children I've lost a little bit of the weight I gained through having them, but not all of it...  I guess that's not unfamiliar territory to a lot of mothers.  In my experience, looking after small children is very tiring - but not actually very good exercise...  It seems a bit unfair really.

So anyway, my BMI actually worked out at 26.2, which really isn't bad at all considering the healthy range for BMI is 20-25.  It made me think; actually my perception of my figure and how I look is probably not very accurate.  I think (or thought) of myself as an overweight person, when really - I'm a 'slightly-less-fit- than-I-could-be' person...

So - what to do...  Hmmm...  Time for some action points I think:

1. Stop worrying about it - the more I worry about this sort of thing, the more I want to eat cake anyway... 
2. Try to keep up the exercise - I find this is good for the mental health as much as anything, but I'm sure it would help with the toning up a bit too.  So God, if you could stop the rain - and make it nice and sunny - I'll do some more cycling...
3. Try to dress with a bit more thought...  After all, the kids are big enough to not cover everything I wear in snot now...  I know there are things I wear that look nice, and things that make me look like a slob.  It's not rocket science...  That said, we all need to slob sometimes; everything in moderation!
4. Pray.  After all, God promises He can renew my mind (see Romans 12), and I'm sure most of my issues with my body are actually in my head.

Oh, and maybe a bit more singing:

"See that pretty girl in that mirror there!...."

The biggest loser...

I can't believe there's actually a programme on the TV called 'The Biggest Loser'.  What's even more difficult to comprehend is that actually, this is a coveted title...  The contestants on it want to be referred to as 'The BIGGEST Loser'.  Oh my goodness.  They have actually made weight-loss a competitive sport.

I haven't watched by any means all of this programme; but I've pretty much grasped the premise.  Lots of over-weight people live together in a house (OK - huge mansion...), trying to complete horrible challenges (watching them trying to resist the chocolate was particularly painful), being encouraged (shouted at) by personal trainers whilst they exercise, all before a team weigh in...  The team with the highest combined weight-loss is safe from elimination (Yes, well it is 'reality TV' - you couldn't really get away without an elimination could you...  Best not to think about it in a dieting context though...  'Elimination' could refer to something else entirely...)

I'm not sure whether I'm impressed, shocked or just really sad for the contestants, but it does seem like a very emotional and stressful experience.  Each weigh in has them dripping with more sweat than the sessions with the personal trainer...  Still, I guess if it's working for them - you can't knock it.  And they do have Davina Macall there to be soothing / encouraging too.  I guess the big question is whether they will be able to keep the weight off once they return to the real world.

My Dad has been overweight (to a greater or lesser degree) for the whole of my life; but recently, he has become our family's own 'Biggest Loser'.  He's lost over three stone now with help from Weight Watcher's (and from my Mum - she's lost a stone herself, just by being supportive and not leading him into temptation... Well done Mum x) 

So Dad, this post is dedicated to you.  Congratulations on losing weight whilst remaining in the real world, and not being shouted at...  I salute you. Gxx

Rain

I don't expect I'm the only person who's moderately depressed by the weather today.  Here we are - half term holiday - both boys at home - and it's rained solid all day.  And yesterday too.  Marvellous.

I know I should be grateful that it's not freezing too.  It is February after all.  A while back, in fact one of my earliest blog posts, I wrote a song about the rain - and then it was August.  It just shows, no month is immune from the 'rainy day blues'...

So - to cheer me, and hopefully you, up a bit - I thought I would try and list a whole load of songs that mention rain... 

So here we go:

1. The Rainy Day Blues - Me!
2. Purple Rain - Prince
3. Rain - Mika
4. Rain - The Beatles
5. The rhythm of the rain - The Cascades
6. I can't stand the rain - Ann Peebles (This was famously covered by Tina Turner - but this is better!)
7. Singing in the rain - Gene Kelly - or maybe this one!

Now - add your own...
And hope it stops soon xx

Reflections on a poo pile...

There's a country lane near where I live that is surrounded by a mixture of farm land and houses.  I drive down this road every day when I take the boys to school.

Recently, this part of my drive has been a bit more fragrant...  Or to be frank about it; smelly...  It properly pongs.  The reason for this is the huge pile of manure sat in a field, waiting to do its fertilising duty. This poo pile is the size of a house; and it's been sitting there for a while now, steaming away.  Lovely.

I was musing a little on this as I drove past it for the 78th time...  Obviously the manure is not pleasant, particularly for the farmer who must have to spend more time with it than most.  However, it does serve a purpose; after all, you'd have to be completely certifiable to spread muck all over your fields if it had no appreciable benefits...

I think it's pretty amazing (or you could say creative of God) that something that is so obviously a waste product can be so nourishing for the soil.  God is particularly good at recycling. 

I do wonder though, who first thought: 'I know, I'll put poo on my flowers - that will make them grow better'...  Maybe some divine inspiration...  Heavenly horticulture?

And then I got to wondering...  What about all the metaphorical poo in the world?  All the job losses, relationship break-ups, horrible illnesses, sleepless nights, and so on...  The 'life's going along OK, and then all of a sudden, you're flattened by an unexpected pile of (hopefully metaphorical) poo that arrives out of nowhere'.  Actually, I shouldn't be flippant; sometimes being covered in real poo would actually be preferable...

So here's the thing...  What if God can actually create something good out of the apparently meaningless, horrible thing?  Is it possible that God can redeem even these situations?  Can God - as Rastamouse would say - 'make a bad ting good'?

The apostle Paul wrote about this in his letter to the Romans (see chapter 5:3-5) where he writes:
"...we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

Much greater minds than mine have spent a lot of time thinking about the issue of suffering, and whether it causes a problem with belief in a loving God.  If this is a big question for you - then it would be another good reason to go on an Alpha Course (I know, I know - more shameless plugging!).  I truly believe that God really is the master at bringing good out of a seemingly hopeless situation.  He's done it in my life, and He can do it in yours too. 

I know it's much easier to write it down than to live it...  but I think when times get really tough, it's then we have to trust that He is the master gardener, and He knows what He's doing.

Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy

Last night we had an unwelcome and unexpected visitor...

To be honest, Joel had probably been carrying the little blighter around for a few days.  No, not head lice...   Worse; a vomiting bug.  Marvellous.

I was a bit surprised, as often you do have a clue when your kids are going to be ill.  They're a bit grumpy / badly behaved / off their food / just not right...  None of this happened yesterday; Joel was on good form.  Sadly, that wasn't much consolation when I was helping to catch (maybe) the 14th lot of vomit at four in the morning...  I had actually lost count by then, and so had Joel...  He must have been ill...

So today, Joel didn't go to school.  He's actually been surprisingly perky, and although not eating completely normally, he seems well on the way to recovery.

I wish I could say the same for me.

One night of rubbish sleep, and I'm a wreck.  Where did my stamina go?  Actually, in my defence Joel probably slept better than I did; as he went straight back to sleep each time, where as I just lay there waiting and listening for the next installment (I know, lovely this isn't it...)

The thing is, back when my children were tiny - I remember feeling fabulous (OK, pretty great - mustn't exaggerate too much...) if I could just get four hours sleep together. Despite the fact that the sleep deprivation phase just seemed to last forever.  I also remember wondering if I would actually ever sleep a whole night through again - it just seemed so unlikely.  I was wildly jealous of the people getting full nights of sleep, who weren't appreciating it...  It just seemed so unfair, that as the tiredest person in the world (sleep deprivation obviously leaves you entirely rational) I was getting the least amount of sleep...

In my time as a midwife I lost count of the number of times I reminded people that sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture, and that it wasn't surprising that they felt pretty shoddy.  I know, I was a little ray of sunshine, wasn't I?!  (In my defence, I was probably trying to explain to them that they were experiencing normal motherhood, and that there wasn't something terribly wrong with their little bundle of joy...  Midwives should all carry a neon sign that says: "Yes, it's normal", because it normally is!)  Still, having had two babies of my own, I truly empathise with the long term sleep deprived mother...  It does get better. 

So now, predictably, I am going to have a nice bath, and go to bed, hoping that I get to stay there; and that there's no more vomit in my house (or anywhere else in my life for that matter) for at least a month.  Optimistic or foolishly unrealistic? 

Ah well, wish me luck.

Sweet dreams xx

Reasons to be Thankful, 1,2,3...

I stumbled across this looking for something else...  It's genius!! :o)

I've always liked Paulo Nutini and his slightly random lyrics and accent - he's a bit difficult to understand at times, but this song is definitely worth the effort...  Particularly when you've got some words on the screen to help you.

It made me think about how often we take for granted the things that we have.  Not many of us spend time being thankful for 'food in my belly and a licence for my telly'...  But I think we would be happier if we were a bit more grateful.  Maybe it would help us to focus more on what we have, rather than the things we haven't got that we'd like...

My kids are an example to me in this.  Each evening when we have tea, we try to remember to thank God for the food He's given us, and for anything else they want to mention.  They often come out with all sorts of random, if slightly mundane things: playing on the computer (Thank you Lord for CBeebies online - you have helped me cook so many meals...), sausage sandwiches (whilst eating something else), playing with friends, favourite toys...  My friend's daughter thanked God for Asda in her prayers recently...

So today, I will mostly be being thankful. 

For funky tunes to dance to, for good friends, for cups of tea, for my fabulous children, for Jesus, for my husband (so often taken for granted, but not today - love you x), for hot meals (those I haven't had to cook, and those I have), for a licence for my telly, for the opportunity to blog, for singing, for all the bits of my body still working as they should, for the people who smile at me when I'm playing the guitar at church, for chocolate, for central heating, for my comfy bed...

Thank you xx

The three year old engineer

You know your small boy (or girl) is going to be an engineer - at least in brain type, if not exact career path, when:

1. He lines up everything neatly.  There are too many examples of this in Nathan's life to count...  But a couple would be the lining up of any vehicles he's playing with, and his playing of the memory game: All cards must be the same way up, even if it's just the pictures on the reverse of the cards, and they must be placed in neat lines...  Heaven help us if anyone introduces him to a set-square!
2. When drinking from a glass, he has to position it so the writing (IKEA!) is horizontal... 
3. When playing with a car with motorised wheels, he picks it up, just to turn it upside down and watch the wheels going round.
4. His vehicle noises are convincing enough to get you to look in the sky to see the aeroplane that isn't actually there.
5. His three favourite things are a torch, a screwdriver and a tape measure (metal and retractable, of course...)
6. He has an inbuilt fascination with how things work...  The trigger for this post was a few incidents I had with Nathan emerging from the bathroom with a wet sleeve...  It was wet with water, nothing more unpleasant, but more wet than would have been caused by an over enthusiastic hand washing.  I found out the cause of this by spying on him...  Let's just say that toilet cisterns are plenty wet enough, and also very interesting to a certain type of brain...

Not-so-Silent Witness - part 2

Anyone else feeling nervous about watching Silent Witness tonight?  This week it's the series finale, so heaven alone knows what they can do to top last week's hide-behind-a-cushion Harry dead, then amazingly not dead two parter...  Here's hoping they don't actually kill someone off...  Would it be too Hollywood to actually have a happy ending for once?  Hmmm... probably.

Last week's episodes drew a lot of discussion as to whether or not it was fair on the audience to kill Harry quite blatantly in episode one, and then have him actually not dead - and saved in an unlikely manner, which wouldn't have fitted the timeline they showed in episode one.  Personally, I was just relieved by the not dead-ness of it all, but I could understand the point that playing on the emotions to boost the shock factor (and maybe the ratings?) might be a bit unfair.

It got me thinking however, about the publicity (or lack of) given to someone else who actually did die, and then was alive again. 

You might know where I'm going with this - or you might not...  I felt quite challenged that I write quite freely about a plot line in a BBC drama, but actually - it's more difficult to write about the death and resurrection of Jesus, a real person who really died - in a horrible way, even worse than anything the script writers have ever come up with on Silent Witness, and then was miraculously made alive again - what the Bible refers to as resurrection. 

The thing is, I believe that what the Bible says about Jesus is true.  That it's a historical account of Jesus' life-death-and life on earth; and that everything He said is true too.  You might well disagree with me, and that's your choice; but if there's even a small possibility that God's Son came to earth and died a horrible death in order to free people from sin and death, and give them life - then isn't that worth finding out about?

One way of exploring these things is to go on an Alpha course.  This is a course written by a guy called Nicky Gumbel who leads a big church in London.  It covers all sorts of interesting questions such as: Who was Jesus?  Why did He die?  What's in the Bible?  How do I pray? etc. etc.  Alpha Courses are run all over the world in all sorts of places from churches to prisons.  You can find out more about Alpha by clicking here.

However, if you live in the Rugby area, and are free on Wednesdays this week onwards, my church are running an Alpha course in Mosaic, our fabulous coffee shop.  Each Wednesday evening at 8pm they'll be a chance to hear a speaker, discuss questions like the ones above, and drink nice coffee and (even better in my opinion) eat nice cake!  If you want you can email the church office (office@becchurch.org.uk) to let them know you're coming, or you can just turn up.  You won't regret it.

So here's me, being a Not-so-silent Witness...  Gxx

Not-so-Silent Witness

This week on BBC 1's Silent Witness, they reached new, dramatic heights...  Properly scary, heart in mouth stuff, as Dr Harry Cunningham (aka actor Tom Ward) came face to face (or gun) with scary girlfriend murdering, Ukrainian mafia tattooed hit man.  At the end of Monday's episode, we - the great British public -saw Harry killed, and then doused in petrol and burned... 

Shock reverberated around Facebook, as my friends and I struggled to believe that they had killed off one of the main characters in such a horrible way.  I'm sure the shock was felt more keenly as poor Harry was quite easy on the eye... 

Not since Adam (aka Beautiful Adam / aka Rupert Penry Jones) was unceremoniously blown up on Spooks a couple of years ago had I been so upset by the demise of a fictional character...

I don't think I was just upset because Harry was (to steal my friend's phrase) pretty.  Or because frankly seeing anyone shot and then burned is fairly horrific...  I was sad for all the story lines that could never happen; for the seismic shift that would have to occur in every future episode.  I guess it's testament to the good script writing that you actually end up caring about the characters.  At that moment if I could have done, I would have found Tom Ward - and checked that he was actually alright; I know it sounds daft - but there we are, the instinct of the trained carer never really goes away, even if it's completely unnecessary...

I have to admit that I watched Tuesday's episode reluctantly, thinking that perhaps even more horrible deaths would occur (yes, I know, a drama about forensic pathologists is bound to contain horrible deaths...); but I felt that not seeing the end of the story-line would just make it worse...  And so it was with great relief that I watched and saw not only no more deaths of major characters, but that actually Harry hadn't been killed after all, but had escaped his attacker who had inadvertently got himself knocked down by a truck whilst reloading his gun (there's swift justice for you!), and that Harry had swapped some of his clothes etc. with the hit man to make it look like he had died instead.  And breathe...

Actually, I still hid behind a cushion for the rest of the episode, thinking that Harry (or Nikki, or Leo) could still get shot...  And to think a bit of telly in the evening is supposed to be relaxing... 

I didn't calm down until the credits were safely rolling. That said, I'll probably end up doing it all again next week.  (I don't know much about being a forensic pathologist, but I would very much doubt there is as much imminent peril as occurs on Silent Witness...)

As an aside - BBC, (I know you're obviously reading my little blog...) do you think you could resurrect Adam in Spooks now?  I know he was (supposedly) blown up by a humongous car bomb, but they couldn't find a body (no surprises there...) so could you not have had him in hiding for a while, just until Lucas threw himself off a building and you needed a new section chief?... 

I know - I need to get out more!

500 miles

To the tune of 500 miles - by the Proclaimers...


When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the Mum who's waking up for you.
When you're screaming, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm going be getting your breakfast just for you.
When you get dressed, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be finding your favourite pants for you.
When we go out, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be doing the school run - saying 'Phew!'

But I would walk 500 miles,
And I would drive 500 more.
Just to be the Mum who went a thousand miles
To prove I love you more.

When I get home, well I know I gonna be, I'm gonna be doing more washing - that is true.
Going shopping; making sure I have exactly the right contents for your lunch box and a stew.
Do the ironing, and the cleaning - even scrubbing something unidentifiable off the loo.
Check my watch then, and it's time for the next portion of the school run yet again - well, whoopee-doo!

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would drive 500 more.
Just to be the Mum who went a thousand miles
To prove I love you more.

(Now add your own extra verses - and da la da daas...)

I have this little brother Nathan; he is small, and very funny...

If you didn't understand the reference to Charlie and Lola in the title, then you haven't got any children - certainly not any the age of mine...

Charlie and Lola are some of the more tolerable characters on CBeebies.  Actually, I quite enjoyed watching Charlie and Lola with Joel before he was even old enough to properly understand it.  (I know, sad isn't it...)  Charlie and Lola are brother and sister (or 'sisiter' as Nathan would say), and the programmes basically focus on things that happen to or affect them. Everything from trips to the hairdresser / dentist / beach on to being poorly / breaking a limb / having a picnic / learning to share...  They've covered it all.  Charlie is a very long suffering big brother, and even ends up helping to get Lola ready for bed at one point, which I would have thought was above and beyond the call of duty, but there we are.

My boys are really loving watching this at the moment.  However, it's not just on TV.  They play games on the CBeebies website, listen to audio books in the car and even read actual (made with real paper and everything!) books too.

You know something like this has really entered your family culture when you start quoting it in a spontaneous manner round the dinner table...

This week when Joel's wobbly tooth fell out, he shouted:
"It's out, it's out - my wobbly tooth is completely out!"
A direct quote from the episode where Lola loses her first wobbly tooth, which I thought was pretty impressive - given that Joel was looking at the tooth and blood in his hand with an alarmed look on his face...

Charlie and Lola's greatest achievement though must be having made milk (specifically pink milk, although I think all milk to a certain point) cool again.  The phase in life when a lot of children reject milk can now be tackled with a 'well Lola loves milk - so it must be good'...  Well done Charlie and Lola, and well done creator Lauren Child.

Normal? I'm sure I've heard of that...

This week one of the lovely ladies at nursery asked me if she could 'have a word'.  I don't know what it is about such an innocuous sentence that gives every parent the heebie-jeebies...  Maybe it harks back to memories of your own childhood discipline; or maybe something you heard once from a doctor with less than positive news.  Whatever it is, I certainly felt a bit apprehensive as I waited for all the other parents to collect their little cherubs...

It turned out that she had some concerns about Nathan's concentration, and just wanted to know how he was at home.  I told her the truth, that I wasn't wildly concerned about it, because he is quite capable of concentrating when he feels like it - provided of course that he's not exhausted, hungry, or distracted by something else...  I'm aware that he spends more time with his head in the clouds than his elder brother (Joel 'always-in-the-real-world' Taylor), but comparing any child to Joel is a recipe for disaster, so I never do.  I always assume Nathan is normal unless someone tells me otherwise.

It made me think again about how no child (and no-one actually) is 'normal', because we're all so different.  We all have things we find easy, and things we find difficult.  I find it helpful to always remember this, and it's something I've spent a fair bit of time talking to Joel about.  Joel is fabulous in a lot of ways, but one of my favourite things about him is how honestly and generously he praises others, even if they have done something that he himself could have done really easily.

Joel's reception teacher once told me about how once in class, he was trying to get one of his class mates to add 35 and 65.  Quickly realising that this was too difficult, he changed the sum to 5 + 5, then helped them to complete the sum, and then celebrated their achievement.  His teacher was almost as thrilled as me.

I think Nathan will probably always be one of those kids with a slight tendency to gaze out the window...
I always took that as a sign of a good imagination, something Nathan has in abundance.  He might not be 'average'... but who'd choose average anyway?  He's brilliant.

Hitting the target

The boys and I have been watching darts this weekend.  This equals a lot of shouting, (at the same time as jumping from Nathan - no surprises there then...) mental maths (I still can't believe that's what they call it at school... Hey kids - it's not just maths - it's craaaaazy maths!) 180s and lots of questions:

"Mummy, what's treble 18 plus double 13?"

"Mummy, why is that man walking funny?" - a reference to the strange phenomenon of the 'walk in'.  I told Joel it was 'just for fun', although he was watching Darryl Fitton at the time, and I'm not sure he was convinced...

"Mummy, why are they wearing so many gold rings?"  To which I answered honestly that I had no idea...  Surely weighing down your dart throwing hand like that is not advantageous...  If I'd had more time to think about it I would have quipped about it having something to do with the 12 days of Christmas... Something like 'well they've already got the five gold rings - the french hens will be a long in a minute'.  I know, it's probably best that we don't have the time to spend ages thinking up comedy responses to our childrens' questions. 

It also gave me the chance to spend time asking them some questions too...

"Nathan, who do you want to win?"
"That man" (pointing at Martin Adams)
"Why him Nathan?"
"He's got a beard."

Of course.

If I was feeling more philosophical I could get a whole load more deep and meaningful thoughts out of darts.  After all - when they throw a wildly off target dart, they don't go off in a sulk and give up - they just go back again and throw the next one.  I'd link it in to the idea of perseverance, and not just giving up the moment they made one mistake (like munching on the chocolate when the healthy eating had been going so well...  Ho hum).  Time to keep calm and carry on.

Well done Martin Adams.  You won again.  And probably not just because of your beard!

New year, new look

No. Do not adjust your set.  You are in the right place...  I have just changed the template I'm using for my blog.  What do you think?  Do you like the new look?  I thought the new year was a good excuse for a change.  Ah, the joy of being to change the look of something completely by just pressing a few buttons...

Have you made any new years resolutions this year?  I haven't really - I guess I just don't like setting myself up for failure like that... (sorry, not very optimistic that...) 

However, the new year does feel like a natural opportunity to make a new start.  I guess I'm not making any new resolutions - just dusting off some of the old ones, and seeing how I get on.

I wonder what precentage of the new year's resolutions that are made are health and diet related?  My guess would be that it would be at least 80%.  Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately...  Goodness knows what we'd end up looking like...  Hmm...) you can't change the way you look just by pressing a few buttons.  Any movement towards a healthy BMI will take effort and perseverance.  I'm honestly not sure how this one's going to go, but the boys and I did manage a 5 mile cycle today, so I guess that's a good start.  The boys are also selflessly working there way through the remaining Christmas chocolate...  The things they do to love and support me!

So, well done if you're tackling any new (or old) challenges this year.  Be gentle with yourself.  Remember that making a few small changes can make a big difference...  (Like saying 'no' occasionally, when you might have said 'yes'...)

Now - where did I leave my will power?