Enforced Stopping

It's been a while...

We've been really fortunate with the absence of illness recently.  I'm hoping it's a benefit of having had every known bug known to man in the first few years of my parenthood.  Maybe, now we're not so sleep deprived, we don't have to incubate every illness we come across.  That's an encouraging thought.

It couldn't last forever though.  The night before last, I awoke to a vague whimpering sound.  As I came to - it was apparent that Nathan had also recently woken up.  Poor chap had woken up lying in his own vomit.  His main concern was being so cold.

So - saving you any more unpleasant details - the rest of the night was no fun.  Suffice to say - little sleep was had, and much laundry was created.

Nathan's school has a policy that following this sort of bug, you can't go back until you've been vomit free for 48 hours.  All fair enough.  Yesterday Nathan was not too bad, but today he's pretty much back to normal.  He's downstairs playing with some toys as I type.

And actually I'm grateful.  Here I am - having to be at home - doing enforced stopping.  (I'm also grateful that my children are now old enough to at least attempt aiming their vomit into an appropriate receptacle - although I did promise no more unpleasant details...)

Don't get me wrong, I've spent a lot of time doing housework, and other jobs.  However, I've also been building marble runs, playing dominoes, driving cars, being read stories (Nathan very rarely lets anyone read to him at the moment, but he does like an audience for his reading...) and sitting with him on the sofa.  Nathan is a very companionable chap.

So I'm not rushing off to do x, y and z today.  I'm off to chill out with the boy xx

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...

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.

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!

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

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?

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...

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.

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

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.

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)

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.

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...

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

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!"