Musings of a 21st Century Stay At Home Mum

Spontaneous Combustion

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Tue, 22 May 2012 20:25:00 +0000

There is a wonderful phrase, in fact it is the title of a play I believe :- "Stop the World I want to Get Off"... which I have coined many a time during my adult life. It's not so much that I wish to get OFF, more that it would be nice if the world would just kindly slow down a little, or perhaps even stop for long enough for me to a) make a cup of tea b) allow me to drink it without the usual reheating (twice) and c) perhaps even let me SIT to drink it?

I am supremely grateful that years ago, when I had one small not-so-demanding child no one told me that I should enjoy the (relative) calm I then enjoyed. Working full-time as a single parent, going to bed at midnight after marking books and preparing lessons, waking to transfer washing to tumble drier (yes, they've ALL had reflux...) at 2am and then finally up at 6am for work I felt as if I was at times struggling to keep the plates spinning. Little did I know then that it was but an oh-so-gentle introduction into the world of additional needs, not even close to the "extreme parenting" I seem to have to hit the ground running with on a daily basis now.

Most of the time it's fine, and fun. Hard work but exactly, totally and utterly what I was made for, I *need* busy like most people need air. And Jelly Snakes... definitely Jelly Snakes too. I thrive on being insanely, frantically busy - but only when I feel in control. Just as well really, considering. The problem with living life on the edge however, is that you have to cling on tight when you get to the hair-pin bends. The moments when the incline suddenly becomes a vertical ascent, which (just for kicks) you have to scale blindfolded with a deafening roar in your ears. I hate those bits.

My sense of humour failed me this week, it's been a full-on month with a lot of highs, good bits to remember, and a load of "stuff" I could really have done without. One good thing about being ridiculously overly-busy is that you can lost the long term perspective and keep your head down. Not much choice really when the here and now takes every ounce of energy and focus to be honest. It IS a useful survival mechanism though and I have used it many times to my advantage, volunteering the few spare minutes I have to others or considering crazy plans such as satisfying my daughter's desperate need for a dog - or even feeling guilty that I am still a full time mum when the children are at school - and maybe I really should consider getting a job. The busier I am the less time I have to ponder the future.

I think that is what has made this past week so difficult. In so many ways I am being forced to look ahead, and I don't have the time or emotional capacity to deal with it right now. There is no need to fill spare minutes to fix myself stubbornly in the present - there are no spare minutes and the future I must face.

Firstly there is the start of the planning process for H's transition to High School. He's only entering Year 6 this September but we have Multi Agency Meetings, Annual Statement Reviews and more with SENCOs and teachers. Transferring a child totally dependent on full time 1:1 support to stay in school -and hopefully have a positive experience there - is no walk in the park. Ideally I would like to give him and his future my undivided attention... but that isn't possible. We also have quite an important review at GOSH for the twins next week - neither is that well right now and neither can continue as they are long term. More decisions, more.... *thinking*.

Added to all that my parents have FINALLY exchanged contracts and are moving house next week. This is GOOD news, no complaints there, but it has definitely precipitated a few feelings and emotions I am struggling with. They are leaving the house I grew up in, it has been their home for 47 years and my Home with a capital "H" since I came home from hospital at a week old. Twice we have returned as a family to camp on floors whilst waiting to move ourselves, it is where a piece of me most certainly will always be. It is one of the most special places in the world to me, saying goodbye will be a huge wrench. I don't do moving on very well....I think in many ways the past is always more attractive than the unknown future!

So once again I find myself thinking how perfect it would be if I could just press pause for a while, to allow my brain the necessary time and space to process so many thoughts and emotions. But I guess that was never the life I signed up for, and probably not the kind of life I would ever choose either. (There would be at least a couple of dogs resident here and a job application in the post by the end of next week if someone did find that button.) So I am hoping I can find the inner strength to get me through the next couple of weeks (and my poor parents as they move!) and hope I don't spontaneously combust along the way! Normal is way too overrated anyway....

Healthy Eating?

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 19:32:00 +0000

Today K and A's school included in their weekly "newspaper" an editorial on "Healthy Eating", asking parents to support the school's two week drive to improve on an already ongoing campaign.

But just what IS Healthy Eating? The school in question have twice termly cake sales, and hands out sweets in birthday assembly, which hardly fits the "Healthy Eating" criteria that the school is so keen to promote? But actually I have more support for cake sales than you might think. The key to good health is usually a balance in all things, cakes have their place in our children's diets as much as fruit, more so if you speak to a dentist - many of whom deplore the plethora of dried fruit snacks which are the biggest culprits for causing cavities in young children today. On the subject of fruit generally the message is the same, balance is key:-

"It might seem counter intuitive to think that a food with lots of sugar is good for your teeth, but fresh fruit is good for your teeth when consumed as part of a balanced diet."

However frequency also matters, and the modern craze for snacking does no one's teeth, blood sugar or appetite any favours.

Given that my younger two are on such restricted diets their school's two snacks a day (which has to be fruit or cheese) means we probably hit 5-a-day by lunch time, so I am not going to lose any sleep about the odd free-from cake which their school very thoughtfully provides for those unable to buy the regular cakes at their charity sales. My bigger concern is the drive for low fat-high sugar foods, the demonising of animal fats and the rising importance of carbohydrates in society- and initiative endorsed by successive governments over the past couple of decades. The NHS' "Eatwell Plate" demonstrates clearly this change in focus, and the obesity surge and diabetes time bomb are evidence of how badly wrong politicians and health experts have been. The comments at the bottom of this NHS page do a far, far better job than I could of explaining how skewed our thinking has become about fats and carbohydrates. The processed food industry has been key in promoting grains and sugars, particularly fructose and sucrose with government support but many people are cottoning on slowly, with a surge in online writings trying to expose the myth that vegetable oils are good and animal fats are bad. Even schools are caught up in the effort to increase carbs and fruit and this frustrates me considerably.

My biggest issue with the "Healthy Eating" campaign though, be it at their school or elsewhere, is that I would really prefer my kids to eat for fuel and pleasure - social, sensory, satiety pleasures - and not think too much about it. I resent having to read every label, cook everything from scratch all the time and stress over their daily intake as it is, I try hard (and it IS hard) to ensure their lives are as normal as possible, that they don't feel too different and they don't miss out. But most of all, I would like for food and eating to be necessity not a focus, to take a back seat in life and just be something I as their mother need to consider. If we get through a day where the children have eaten when hungry, had their fill and run off back to more interesting activities then I have succeeded. A day spent thinking about every bite, each ingredient, its impact and value is a day wasted for a child, it is the responsibility of adults to feed their children appropriately and make it as mundane a process most of the time as filling the car with petrol. Of course food is to be enjoyed, but to make it a major or even the sole focus of a child's life for even a short period of time is as bad as ignoring natural appetite.

I have to say, I write none of this whilst wearing an imaginary halo, I fail miserably at this ideal many days and the children's extremely restricted diet makes it very, very difficult to achieve even our own version of normality. But my heart sank reading that newsletter column tonight, because all my efforts made on a daily basis will be shot down in flames in a misguided fortnight of demonising fats, pushing carbs, vegetable oils and fruit - but most of all in drawing attention to something which I would prefer my children not to have to think about. Add to that the fact that they will most likely be discrediting foods my twins rely on to keep them well and it's not going to be a positive experience I fear. I hope I'm wrong.

Resilience

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 21:18:00 +0000

Resilience. Not a word I use very much to be honest. And one that was oh-so-painfully overused at H's previous school by the Headteacher who had co-authored a book on "Building Learning Power". Don't get me wrong, there are some inspirational ideas and a lot of good practice in that book, but the nomenclature grated ever.so.slightly. For example focussing on "Brave Spellers" was a useful means of encouraging emergent independent writing but even the children felt it was slightly overdone at times. But I digress.

Today I am a Resilient Learner however. Today I binned Hope and Trust in a positive move, but somehow "Goodbye Hope and Trust" didn't strike me as a particularly positive to a Blog post.

Today I viewed the second of two specialist school possibilities for H. As any follower of this Blog will know, I have been round in circles fretting about his academic future, yearning to Home Educate but too afraid to "jump" and fearing I would be dragging an unwilling victim with me. For too long I have been seduced by promises of "support" and "alternatives" which are about as real and believable as my husband remembering to lock the garage or my eldest son turn his light out by 10pm. Well intentioned yes, but about as likely to happen as Christmas in July.

I was quite shocked at the school I saw today. The first seemed to confuse "school" and "education" with "Care" with a capital "C". It was not somewhere I felt I could leave my child at all, a place where his identity would count for little as their overarching agenda seemed to neglect the individual - bizarre in such a small school. Micro management is probably perfect for many profoundly challenged by Autism but many like my son have a desperate, primal need for a little flexibility on their own terms in an otherwise seemingly oppressive world. And removing all of the challenging and traumatic factors isn't really helpful either - because at some point learning needs to occur, and "Brave Socialisation" (to use the analogy!) needs to happen.

Today's offering was more excruciatingly depressing. A school lacking a clear ethos or raison d'être (I did ask, the Head didn't have an answer) in a terrible state of repair. Private provision in a small environment, some specialist support in a beautiful setting, but stuck in the 1950s with no evidence of investment in decades - yet charging identical fees to the top private schools in the County! Not a computer older than a BBC Micro or an interactive whiteboard in sight the school was incredibly dated, dilapidated and depressing. Ageing portacabins with peeling lino and ancient heating enclosed in cages across the walls.... and the dormitories made MY boarding school from years ago look plush and modern. None of that would have mattered so much if I felt the teaching and support was good - but I didn't. My son would have died a little bit at that school, there was no vibrancy, no life.

As I drove away I felt utterly liberated however, as I mentally binned the sack of hope I had been carrying these past years. Hope of something different, a false sense of security when facing an uncertain future. That sack had become much heavier in recent months, with encouragement from school and health to pursue alternative placements for H for secondary school. I placed my trust in their judgement, they know my son and they are familiar with these schools. But that's just it - they don't know my son, and that is exactly why trust went into the same roadside bin with that sack of hope. From now on I am trusting no one but myself and our family with my son's future, and realism and pragmatism will guide me. The academic outcome for him at these "alternatives" would not be any better than being out of school, and our one target for his future - happiness - would slip further out of reach. Kids with ASD are emotionally needy and oh so young. They need families, need support, nurturing and understanding. There isn't a magic wand, there isn't an alternative - at least not for us. He will go to the local school, with those he knows, round the corner from home. He may well struggle, if he is unhappy he can learn at home or a combination of the two. I'm flexible - because I know my child better than anyone. He might not reach his "academic potential" but what is that in reality? This ten year old son of mine is programming Java using IntelliJ, teaching himself coding via YouTube and adapting the code (and cursing loudly) when the offered code fails to work. His current skills would earn him a practical IT GCSE, almost A level grade and I have no doubt whatsoever that he will be extremely successful in life. We will muddle on, learning from each other, taking the rough with the smooth.

You see, it isn't *just* about resources, it's about people. It's about what makes our children who they are, their individual quirks and needs. My son needs free Java flirtation time, space to keep the world out, time to bake and cook curry with his mum, knitting with his Granny and gardening with his Grandpa. He needs to watch Tracy Beaker on loop for four hours at a time on a challenging day, guard his Pokemon Card collection and sleep with his Polar Bear close at night, under the photo of his beloved hamster. How in the world can the hope of any academic qualification top those achievements and securities?

So tonight I am saying goodbye to hope and trust, in the context of the lure of an alternative future for my son, and embracing the future at the end of the path we are on. There is nothing better on offer and nothing I would rather strive more for. It is a road on which I too am learning and growing, and resilience and self confidence are two valuable assets I am gaining. Resilience in navigating my son's path through life rather than handing the task to anyone else and nurturing the determination we will both need to succeed. Both of us are learning together to cope with the stress and adversity life may bring, and coming out the other side (I hope) as better people.

"Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go." And one thing H does not lack is determination. I reckon he will be very successful, with us right behind him.

Normal in Our House

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 20:22:00 +0000

Renata over at Just Bring the Chocolate has set a little blogging challenge – to define ‘Normal’ family life in our place.

"Anyone who says that their family is normal is lying… or in denial… or just mad. There is no such thing as the normal family, just varying degrees of weirdness. Just like the pile of things that sits hopefully at the bottom of the stairs waiting to be carried up day after day, after a while, we don’t even see our own idiosyncrasies. Parents of special needs children, arguably, embrace this weirdness to a more impressive level than many other families, and, should you come across us, you shouldn’t be surprised if some of it leaks out into everyday life."

Interesting challenge. Some days it would seem there is not much mundane, predictable and "normal" to be had around here. Having spent 4 of the past 7 days in 2 different hospitals, with 2 of the remaining 3 having outpatient appointments, having the cat "admitted" at the Vet's for ~~neurotic senile cat disease~~ doing a good impression of being at Death's Door and trying to explain to school that gluten as well as dairy, soya and wheat needs to be excluded from Kitty's diet (I provide the lunch but they are fantastic about catering for them in cooking sessions, snack etc) I'm not sure I would know what "normal" looked like if it came up and bit me. But that's the point of this challenge, to show how the seemingly bizarre, unlikely and even impossible becomes the norm for many families with children with additional needs.

Waking at the crack of dawn has always been the norm in our family. Although that should really be the "Shout of Dawn", or "Scream of Dawn". For years our mornings have started like this or this although the screaming and shouting has improved in recent months. H is oh-so-gradually getting the hang of school mornings, and who knows, by the time he leaves Primary School we might manage to leave the house without me feeling the need for ~~valium~~, a ~~stiff drink~~ and a strong coffee. Mornings are fraught, hectic and noisy, and require careful planning and preparation the night before to avoid resembling a war zone. That's fine when I am on form the night before, but if I am feeling the effects of 2-3 hours sleep in total the previous night the temptation to throw caution to the wind and "wing it" the next day is very seductive. I did that once. Just the once. Won't be doing it EVER again lol...

With two children with autoimmune inflammatory bowel disease (EGID see here) , one with AS, ADHD, and a whole host of other allegedly identified idiosyncrasies, let alone a teenager in the midst of hormone fluctuations there is considerable potential for trouble. (And that's assuming the cat behaves....) Pumps alarming, feeding tubes needing flushing, everyone's medication laying out/preparing for taking out, emergency kits checked and rechecked, physio done I could all too easily post a picture of the first thing which springs to mind to illustrate our concept of "normal".

A 10ml enteral syringe.

We go through loads of these, for medication and tube feeding. They feature in our "normal" family life. And yet I cannot think of anything less appropriate to illustrate what is "normal" for our family. Yes, our lives do revolve around meeting the additional needs of three of us, but that IS mostly the mundane, predictable and almost invisible much of the time.

Normal life here is making a joke out of almost everything, finding the humour in the most unlikely situations, creating "Thompsonisms" that would never feature in any accepted dictionary but which for us are at the centre of family life. I am blessed with a family with a fabulous sense of humour. (That's pretty potent multiplied by a factor of 6. ) I have my husband to thank for a lot of it, he can singlehandedly reduce A to a giggling, incapable wreck only minutes after starting to cry in pain. He can see the fun in any situation, although I doubt his version of the Bristol Stool Chart will be adopted any time soon!

"Normal" for us is a warped, humorous and not-a-little cynical view of the world and our family's place within it. It's about making each other laugh and see the flip side, it's the glue which binds us together. And should any one of us be feeling low, should the mundane and monotony of our "special" version of "normal" be too overwhelming, you can be sure there are several at hand to crack a joke and put everything in perspective. We're an IT savvy, gadget loving, future embracing, don't let it get you down (or offload it and move on) kind of family. Feelings matter, but we know when humour can save the day. That's my kind of normal :)

Do you enjoy reading my Blog?

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 10:23:00 +0000

If so, please consider nominating me for the BritMums Blog Awards 2012. Brit Mums is Britain's biggest parenting blogging Network, which I have recently become involved with. Some of my posts have been included in their national "round-up" focus and I am keen to promote my Blog given the pleasure I derive from writing it and my aspirations for future opportunities!

Mother's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 10:17:00 +0000

Mothering Sunday is fast approaching, the fourth Sunday of Lent and thus a moveable feast in line with Easter and the lunar calendar. "Although it's often called Mothers' Day it has no connection with the American festival which shares its name. Traditionally, it was a day when children, mainly daughters, who had gone to work as domestic servants were given a day off to visit their mother and family.

It also holds religious significance, since centuries ago it was considered important for people to return to their home or 'mother' church once a year. So each year in the middle of Lent, everyone would visit their 'mother' church - the main church or cathedral of the area. And most historians think that it was the return to the 'Mother' church which led to the tradition of children, particularly those working as domestic servants, or as apprentices, being given the day off to visit their mother and family."

But what does it mean to you?
Fourteen years ago it was my first year as a mother, and it happened to coincide with my birthday. A special day indeed, my first as a mother myself, having previously only considered the day in the context of myself as a child. My own Mum is amazing, and I count myself incredibly fortunate to have had such a stable and loving environment to grow up in, nurtured by loving parents with a steadfast, caring and capable mother. A hard act to follow.

My first Mother's Day was also particularly poignant since (as is so often the case) my life failed to live up to the idealised master plan I intended for myself as a naive child. I found myself a single mum, working long hours miles from my family coping with a baby with chronic reflux. But like my own mother and millions of others, it takes a lot to get me down, and such trivialities are relatively easy to ride through at the tender age of 24, when sufficient sleep is a pleasant change rather than a pre-requisite for sustained sanity....

Fourteen years and a whole ocean under the bridge and I am the proud mum of four, with a loving husband, life partner and friend to share life's ups and downs. The learning curve of life has been as steep as any climbing wall at times, but Mother's Day is when I celebrate my greatest achievement in life - my children and my status as their mum. I'm far from perfect, but like the vast majority of mums across the world I put my children first and strive to be the best mum I can be.

For me it is also a day for remembering the simple pleasures of being a mum, for forgetting my status as nurse, social worker, advocate etc. Like many mums of children with disabilities and medical conditions, it's all too easy for life to become a round of caring and meeting additional needs, fighting their corner at school, ensuring they have the best opportunity to realise their potential despite the challenges they face. But on Mother's Day I will be focussing on the normal, the mundane, the oh-so-valuable and special daily aspects of being their Mum. So in that respect my childhood master plan did indeed come to full realisation, albeit not as simply as I imagined. Because from an early age, more than anything in the world I wanted to be a Mother, a Mum, someone's Mummy. And it is an incredibly fulfilling job on every level, bringing with it more challenges than I could of dreamt of, stretching me more than any corporate job and providing the deep job satisfaction any employee dreams of. It is, without a doubt, the best job in the world.

So to all mothers everywhere, whatever your day means to you, I hope March 18th is everything it possibly can be. I will be shuttling between dancing and Cross Country, doing what I love most, with those who make me complete.

Wow. Six years.

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 21:28:00 +0000

This time six years ago I was deep in the throes of twin labour. If you think the "twin" bit was tough, think again. That was perhaps the easiest part of the whole "twin experience" to date. In actual fact it turned out to be the most straightforward (with the usual caveats and exclusions) of all my deliveries and our beautiful babies arrived at 3.20am and 3.30am. Text book.

But at that point someone seems to have mislaid the manual, or at least the bulk of it which contained the information and reassurance regarding feeding, weight gain and development. For six months R and I survived on snatches of sleep, constantly dealing with crying babies and incessant vomiting. At three weeks old we had the first of (oh so) many hospital appointments, and such was my exhaustion I arrived in the hospital car park with the new buggy - having failed to cut off the tags to enable the damn thing to actually OPEN properly! Never before had I experienced that all encompassing, inexplicably life-sapping total exhaustion, and I hope I never, ever will again. The concept of a "full nights' sleep" is still a dream, existing only in a parallel universe somewhere across the Galaxy, but at least now it's (usually) enough. Between feed pumps alarming and uncomfortable/awake/insert any excuse you can come up with, they do! I am usually up 2-3 times a night, but that is so far removed from those early days.

My photo stream is testimony to a considerable amount of fun and adventure over the past 6 years, with special memories by the score as they grew older. Moving to somewhere without a loft was tough - I struggled to hang on to all my treasures from their early days - and their brothers' too - with so little storage space!

It's been a bumpy ride and we've pretty much written our own twin handbook on the way, which is probably why tomorrow feels like such an incredible milestone. It's taken this long to even start to understand the fundamental difficulties the twins have always had with feeding and digestion, why they suffer so much more than their siblings or the rest of us, and why our family is so absurdly divergent from the text book we all subscribe to.

But that said, on the outside, when feeling well and medicated appropriately, they are the bounciest (that should probably read BOUNCIEST) loudest (definitely LOUDEST, even accounting for hearing loss in one and over compensation in the other) almost-six-year-olds around. The best things come in small packages they say, and when I look at my two youngest I fill with pride, in total agreement. They face everything life throws at them head on, and refuse to let anything (or anyone, which can be rather tiresome at times) get in the way of their chosen path.

It's scary how fast time flies, but so exciting sharing the journey.
Happy 6th Birthday Kitty and Archie, my Mini-Me and Monkey :)

Just call me Mrs Skittle.

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 14:21:00 +0000

Or Mrs Wobbly Woman. Either requires a certain familiarity with Noddy although a passing acquaintance with the song "I get Knocked down, but I get up again" would suffice.

Right now, I feel like I have been hit by the proverbial bus, after two good shots at knocking me off my feet yesterday once again coupled with my body's masochistic desire to make things harder by switching off the sleep function at the worst possible moment. Two hours sleep is seriously not enough when you are pushing 40, have three out of four children who didn't read the manual and take it in turns to tag team me each night.

I've no idea why insomnia strikes when I least need it, but it does force me to take stock and recover my bounce. Life on our family roller coaster is never dull but any dip is followed sometime soon by a challenging climb with breathtaking views from the top. I am telling myself this right now, as I contemplate the challenges presented me in despair, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of deja vu knocking on the door.

It's been three years since our youngest son ditched the feeding pump and sustained himself, eating enough to grow and needing his tube only for medication and occasional venting/fluids. The much hated, sleep-sapping, bed-wetting device was handed back to the NHS at the first opportunity and I hoped to never set eyes on one for our use again. But sadly he once again needs a bit of help and it does indeed make sense... but what has sense got to do with emotions? On hearing we would shortly be taking delivery of a pump, feeds and other paraphernalia I felt as if someone had kicked me in the stomach, or that I was so sleep deprived I was hallucinating and recalling conversations of years ago. I do suspect my little man will put me completely to shame though and take it all in his stride, as he does everything else in life. He will no doubt be making jokes about it with his Dad along with his repertoire of funny accents and imitations of "french men going skiing at weekends".... (you had to be there). That boy has an enviable sense of humour and I can cope with most things alongside him providing he is able to see the funny side.

As if that were not enough excitement for one day we are also seriously considering alternative secondary options for H after a stupendously appalling day on Friday which rounded off a challenging first week back, continuing in the same vein as last term which was not much better than the one before. Quite honestly I don't have the energy to continue fighting to precipitate better understanding of ASDs in his school, in part because I totally sympathise with them. There may very well be understandable and explainable reasons for his challenging behaviour, but the fact is we struggle as much at home as they do at school. I cannot get on my soap box and cite alternative, practical and more appropriate methods of tackling each meltdown and its aftermath, because I'm still waiting for my own lightbulb moment and some illumination on managing him here. What I do know though, is that there is a time to admit a strategy change is needed, and if someone could just turn on the light and point me in the right direction I'll be all geared up ready to fight his corner once again.

In the County which pioneered inclusion high functioning children with complex needs are sadly frequently neglected, as elsewhere. The old adage that the bright child would "do well anywhere" is simply untrue, and my son is an excellent example. With a visual IQ over 140 you would at least expect him to be performing at an average level, once his additional needs were taken into consideration. But the fact is that he is years behind in numeracy (as measured in school) and almost as far behind in written literacy work. That same child can architect and code Java mods for Minecraft, build his own Servers and partition a hard-drive to operate Linux and Windows simultaneously, but those skills are not rated by our education system. There really is something fundamentally wrong with forcing each and every child-shaped peg into the same hole. In my limited experience of teaching and my many years experience working with and bringing up children, I have yet to find two identical "pegs". Even the identical twins I know are very different, learn differently and their pattern of strengths of weaknesses vary. So how a child who starts off very different, who was non-verbal before the age of 3, barely recognised his wider family before school age and spent the whole of Reception either under the table or excluded at home is supposed to thrive in mainstream is beyond me. Sure, he has an outreach team going in regularly offering both him and school additional support, but it is too little, too late.

We've discussed Home Education, but H really doesn't want to go down that route. He desperately wants to be with his peers, have friends, feel wanted and needed by others. Yet his behaviour is driving his friends away. What I wouldn't give for those who champion "Mainstream for All" to witness his tears most evenings and understand the damage the stamp of failure a does to a child. He was set up to fail before he even started school, in an environment which measures success in a purely neurotypical manner.

So yesterday was the first of what will no doubt be many discussion about "Where Next", but it is a topic with little room for discussion, there are no schools in our county for high functioning ASD children, and I refuse to send him to board away from home. It seems we don't have much choice - to continue "fire-fighting" at home and at school with a child falling progressively further behind and feeling more of a failure, or we take the initiative and responsibility for his education ourselves. I don't like either option so although I had intended to sit back and enjoy the ride a little more this year perhaps some planning into the future is required after all.

So I guess it's not really very surprising that I didn't sleep much last night. I do currently feel rather "knocked down" but as always after a little pause for breath and a lot of thought and consideration I will inevitably bounce back again. Just call me Mrs Skittle.

New Year or Same Old?

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 20:02:00 +0000

Having read my totally amazing friend's new Blog post I decided that I would click on the browser tab I opened (a week ago) to write a new post myself. Given the lack of noise/spontaneous combustion/demands here right now, and my hugely successful attempt to ignore the ironing pile/dishwasher/any other sensible use of my time there really isn't an excuse to procrastinate any longer.

It's not that I arrogantly assume anyone else wants to read my ramblings, but the recent "writer's block" has been incredibly frustrating for me. I find writing such a cathartic process, and somehow sharing my trivialities with cyberspace enables me to move forward - whether in fact my posts are actually read or not. So I'm not totally sure why I have found it so painfully challenging to collect any sensible thoughts to record in recent months, but I suspect sleep deprivation may well be the main culprit. New mothers often speak of this mythical ten per cent of brain power pregnancy is supposed to "mothball", and share their yearnings for a return to full capacity. I think after 14 years there is little hope of that for me but without a doubt the recent months of repetitive night wakings (medication change and small daughter to blame) have rendered the remaining functional percentage semi-comatose much of the time. Or at least much of the time I have available to write! But the New Year is always a significant way point, and worthy of additional effort, and it is one of my Resolutions to find more time to write.

So how do you imagine New Year? I don't mean what does it mean for you, but how do you visualise time and its partitioning? Being a teacher, and with four school aged children the New Year for us is actually not 1st January, but early September. I do imagine each school year to be an exciting "box" to be opened, experienced and enjoyed. With new challenges and adventures, troubles and joy. But January? I've never thought of the "real" New Year quite like that. For me, time is an inexorable mobius strip, which we move along at an inevitable pace. Like a tape measure each New Year is spaced along its surface, barely significant other than yet another marker along our personal timeline. I don't cross the threshold of the New Year with excitement or trepidation, but rather a feeling of inevitability, resignation and sadness. The sadness is purely because time persists in moving ahead at its own pace, those we love growing with us and cherished past times drifting further away. There is still the hope and excitement, but bizarrely I experience this to a far greater extent in September. January is such a bleak month, and this travelling forwards seems dulled in comparison. There is absolutely nothing new for me on 1st January from the day before, nothing to hide the fact that we are still fighting the same battles, with imperceptibly unchanged routines. In contrast I find the new school year such an invigorating time, I love the Autumn with its weather and festivals and feel a huge sense of achievement as my children take the next step at school, in clubs and sports.

This year was much the same, I actually remembered to write the correct year on the first cheque of 2012 but otherwise not much has changed. We have a few challenges to face over the next twelve months but nevertheless I feel excited and enthusiastic for once. I'm enjoying the present and determined not to look too far ahead - there is no Master Plan and I'm taking each week, each day as it comes. Mrs Organised is going to take a step back and enjoy the journey just a little bit more in 2012 and avoid looking too far ahead - or too far behind.

I've been MIA... Life got in the way! But Merry Christmas All from all of us!

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 20:14:00 +0000

‘Twas the night before Christmas - Our version for this year

‘Twas the night before Christmas, the children were high
Waiting for Santa way up in the sky.
Fueled by excitement, sugar and hope
They bounced and they shouted, I barely could cope

The cookies were ready, there had to be four-
Poor Santa would likely not fit through the door!
His reindeer had carrots, all neatly set out
The brandy glass empty - we must have run out!

The stockings were thrown at the fireplace with flair
One child informed me he just didn’t care,
Because “Santa will sort them, not leave them about,
He’ll not make a mess so there’s no need to shout.”

Then long conversations ensued with the cat
Minding his business sitting quiet on the mat
Concern running deep on what he might share,
With the wonderful gift-giver soon to be there.

For animals speak on this magical night
And inform Father Christmas whom he should see right
You might convince Mum and you may convince Dad
But the cat is impartial on who has been bad.

Satisfied Timmy would not spill the beans
My children now hoped by whatever means
To stay up much longer than most of them should
But a visit from Santa was a prospect too good.

They hoped to snap Santa on CCTV,
Watching him hover above our chimney
For Daddy had promised them no one is missed
Not even Santa, checking his list.

Eventually all of them began to grow tired,
With only one hyper, distractible child.
But all went to bed without much of a fight
As sleeping would bring on the morning delight.

I thought as a kissed them, each sleepy head
How lucky I was to have four tucked up in bed.
I counted my blessings and counted them twice
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!

Climbing Everest

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 18:45:00 +0000

Today it all really got to me.

Several times this summer we have tried to see friends and be sociable. Not just for the children - for me too, this parenting lark can (as a close friend astutely pointed out last week) be a lonely business. Particularly when you have a child with additional needs. Or two. Or three. But after today I think I will be focussing on the positives and staying home.

It's not that I'm "fed up" with all the issues, (well, I am a bit!!) or that I'm having a self-pitying moment, it goes deeper to be honest. It's hard to describe... which is precisely the problem. HOW do you describe to others the difficulties daily life presents, how normal activities are nigh on impossible some days - so challenging you just want to curl up and not try? That might sound defeatist, but it's this growing chasm of experience which is having such a profound impact, in many ways I feel so far distanced from the majority of parents on a daily basis.

Take yesterday. A lovely picnic with school friends of K and A before term starts. To start with it seemed straightforward.
It was a weekend, so H (who is currently in non-stop meltdown as the new term approaches) could be left with Richard at home.
Since it was a picnic the twins should not feel "different" with their food as everyone would be taking their own sandwiches, right?
But kids inevitably share so we had to read sweet labels and draw at least some attention to ourselves. (quietly!) But then the new Mum in the class wanted to know why my two couldn't eat certain things... and didn't understand why intolerances didn't mean small amounts were OK and how their "gut allergies" differ from immediate ones. There then followed the usual toe curling and futile attempt to give the minimum information about a complex and little known disease and swiftly change the subject! My attempt to downplay the food allergy thing ended with A white as a little ghost telling me his tummy hurt and that he needed to go home -so home we went, to sit on a familiar loo with his favourite cuddly for comfort.

You might think that's no big deal. And I guess it isn't, except that's not a one-off - and neither is it our only issue. Every attempt to leave the house with H and any other combination of children is always almost impossible. And staying at home and having friends here can be even worse! Somedays I think a paper bag over my head could come in really handy when out - because so many people think that it's poor parenting that causes ASD/ADHD behaviours. I've actually been told as much more than once. I've even been told I shouldn't have been allowed children after H because I couldn't control his behaviour. (And not by a paid up member of the BNP...) Even family suggest it is somehow "my fault" for having four children - which is totally missing the point because crystal balls are not yet standard issue or remotely reliable.

It's undoubtedly the combination of issues which I find so challenging and others so difficult to comprehend. Many families have a child with difficulties of some sort, and problems FAR more severe than any one of my children. When I see the suffering of some of the children I know and the challenges their parents face I do feel very blessed. But nonetheless on a daily basis I find myself increasingly dwelling on the same question. Just what are the chances of everyone in one family having the same gastrointestinal problems (to some extent), of two of my children needing strong unlicensed medication to keep them well? AND of having a child on the Autism Spectrum, with ADHD and other issues? It's not exactly that likely, is it?? How many other mums spent the last day of the holidays writing three sets of medical notes for school, getting three sets of medication ready? It's actually quite embarrassing, because it doesn't make sense to us either.

And if I don't "get it", what chance is there of anyone else understanding? The GP certainly doesn't, challenging every clinic letter, every prescription. Sadly denial doesn't work as a useful panacea, I wish it did! Our disabilities might be largely invisible, but I cannot deny their existence. I've tried this, many times, because this wasn't in the Plan. I didn't ever imagine any of my children would ever be anything short of or more than "normal". But the Plan somehow got changed, and the reality is there is a huge part of my life I cannot share with the vast majority of my friends, which increasingly takes over and prevents the rest of life happening as it should. It's isolating, restricting, frustrating and at times desperately heartbreaking.

Which is why, for a little while at least I'm retrenching. Retreating from daily social interaction I can avoid. Sometimes the effort before and despair after doesn't make the attempt worthwhile, and it can be as valuable to enjoy and value what comes easily rather than climbing Everest everyday. The children return to school over the next couple of days and I'm going to do all the mundane, safe and easy non-sociable things on my agenda. Staying at Base Camp is sometimes more important than aiming for every summit.

The Brown Bottom

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 08:14:00 +0000

I have to say the title of this post made me chuckle given the association with toilet humour and the gastro conditions suffered by some in this house! But it is a serious post, on a subject frustratingly pertinent given the current volatility on the stock markets and constant discussion on "Debt" and the "Cuts". I am constantly challenged by friends, Blog readers and online acquaintances how I could continue to lay the blame for the recession firmly at the feet of Labour. The banks clearly had their role and were perhaps the short term catalysts but the (then) government's foreknowledge of what was coming and their collective political fear of acting on such information is enough for me. When coupled with the traditional "tax and spend" of Labour past and present you have a toxic combination of a government hurtling into the abyss with their hands over their ears and their eyes tightly shut. It goes with my comment below, that benefits, payouts and support without a mutual contract of responsibility create the very social unrest Social Security attempts to avoid. So this information arrived today in my inbox and I decided to post it!

With the gold price hitting new nominal highs it seems a good moment to remind ourselves about the consequences of Gordon Brown’s sale of much of the country’s gold reserves.

In 1999-2002 he sold 395 metric tons of gold at an average price of $275 an ounce. Today the price stands at $1749 an ounce. No wonder Brown’s sale on the gold price charts is known as "The Brown Bottom". He also gave notice to the market that the sales would take place, thereby giving market participants every opportunity to drive the price down in advance.

Here are the approximate calculations of the value (in millions)which would have accrued if we still held the gold today:

	Sold then	Value now
	99 - 02	2011
Quantity sold tons	395	395
Average price $/oz	$275	$1,700
Sum realised US$m	$3,477	$21,492
Exchange rate avge.	$1.52	$1.63
Sum realised £m	£2,287	£13,185

The 2012 Olympics are estimated to cost some £9billion, so we could have paid for the Olympics with the amount of value he surrendered and had £2billion left in change. As of December 2010 estimated gold reserves were as follows:-

US	8,133 tons
Germany	3,401 tons
Italy	2,452 tons
France	2,435 tons
UK	315 tons

The impact of the man’s stupidity is breathtaking.

My thoughts on the Rioters.. for anyone interested!!

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 20:01:00 +0000

Like everyone else, we are watching the television aghast at the scenes spreading across the country. With Twitter promoting the "Hug a Hoodie" tag and others referring to these youths as "looting scum" and a tiny minority, feelings are running high and given the apparent lack of police protection my biggest concern was the call for vigilante type protection of private property, and a call for communities to "go out and stand up to these scum".

What sickened me most was the youths helping up an injured man whilst simultaneously emptying his rucksack. These people clearly have lost all sense of respect for others, all sense of respect and identity for themselves. But what they also are is a product of our society. Everything from immigration policy, taxation, cheap imports, easy credit, education policy, unemployment, housing - they have all contributed to the scenes we are currently witnessing. Minority or not, these people are currently a force to be reckoned with on our streets and we are struggling to contain this criminal behaviour. That is, after all, what it is - as the government are keen to stress. Any "message" they want to send the government or country was drowned with the indiscriminate aggression, petrol bomb and brick attacks on police and the complete ignorance of those wishing to say something who chose to speak through violence against those they should identify with, share a community spirit with and feel some sense of respect for.

But despite the message being drowned, we should start listening. Paying attention to those the majority of us never notice or acknowledge. I do NOT condone the violence, I do certainly think this rioting needs crushing fast and by whatever appropriate means required but to ignore the underlying causes would be a terrible mistake. I'm not talking about recent "cuts" which is a convenient scapegoat, this goes much much deeper.

I believe there is little sense of community in most towns and cities now. Families are so dispersed, everyone working long hours... ridiculous levels of political correctness in a society walking a tightrope in an attempt to enforce law and order in fear of the media's savage condemnation. And whilst national pride can be a terrible thing it is also necessary to a degree - or community pride. "Rights" (which I am SICK of hearing about) should be tempered with a sense of responsibility and the expectation that the government should always pick up the pieces. We have allowed social, racial and political hatred to blossom for fear of condemnation and positive discrimination thrives.

Let's get this straight, I do support the cuts, (most of them) and some of the attempts to get the current deficit down. We cannot afford to go the way of Greece and Spain, and the recent market volatility demonstrates the danger of downgrading of our credit-rating by any threat of defaulting on that debt. It is essential to see the "bigger picture" for the benefit of the many. But it is a heartless person who fails to acknowledge the individual struggling to be part of that "bigger picture". Yes "Big Society" *should* be more supportive, it is a commendable ideal - but at present that is honestly all it is. And without some serious grass roots change that is all it is likely to be. Short-termist opportunism on the part of far too many politicians so far removed from the world of those on the streets this week has placed a deep divide in society.

You might say there has always been a divide but it has changed in nature. The less well-off were always proud to be British, usually active in their communities and shared a sense of responsibility for each other and everyone else.
This seems to have been replaced in the hearts of many by a crazy, naiive hatred of those who have by some who don't which has largely happened due to the "ghettoisation" of these sink estates. They are so blinkered... someone who is working hard and making good (often from very deprived backgrounds too) is seen as a target for jealousy, even if it were someone from the same locality. Regulated wealth creation can only benefit everyone to a degree, but what is a long term "bigger picture" to someone so disenfranchised from the rest of society.

Instead of handing out benefits to the young, we should have them coupled with community tasks, payment for helping out. No - change the entire system so those unable to get a job independently can receive a minimum wage for a community-based task. It's the thin end of the wedge - but it's a start. Put some pride back in our communities, tag "responsibility" onto the "rights" people keep talking about. These riots should be dealt with swiftly and firmly. There is never an excuse for that kind of behaviour.... but maybe there is a reason and that reason needs someone to take notice, before what is left of our society disintegrates even further.

The fight continues...

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 19:24:00 +0000

This won't be a long post. I'm too tired, too cross, too frustrated.

You will have possibly have read my last post, "What 30th July *really* means to my son's teachers" . I had several comments, some of which I published. Some were deeply hurtful, from those uncomfortable with the obvious challenge to a minority of their profession, or ideals and dogma they held dear. That's fine, they're my "Musings", my comments, and I quite like writing hard hitting pieces and being controversial. If I don't make you think, I've failed.

But this post is more an opportunity to vent my spleen, on my own behalf, my son's behalf and on behalf of so many others I know who are struggling in a similar situation.

My son has always found life, and school in particular very challenging. Three years ago the school situation was so bad he faced permanent exclusion, His (then) Headteacher was told by the Council SEN Officer to permanently exclude so she could commence looking for an alternative SEN placement at a multi agency meeting at the school in early 2008. The Head refused (due to the stigma of permanently excluding a child..and also the commendable sentiment that she felt she could not give up on him) and thankfully things settled down a little. We battled for years until he finally received a Statement of Special Educational Needs. his last Annual Review was last December, six months late but he had recently moved schools, AND moved classes because the teacher of the class he was initially in told him “Autism is no excuse for bad behaviour” and said he was “just a spoiled brat”. (For this the teacher faced a disciplinary hearing and H moved into a parallel class). This new class is a job-share, which is not ideal for a child with Autism, but certainly one of the teachers at least has endeavored to understand and work with Harry, and he has excellent, caring and dedicated full time (incl breaks) 1:1 support.

At Parents' Evening in March we were told progress was good, all was well. No IEP but one would be sent home next week. Nothing. By June we were concerned that we had not received a copy of Harry’s IEP, let alone discussed it with anyone in school so I asked for a meeting with the school SENCO before the end of term. We had also been struggling at home and I wanted to touch base with her before next year, I knew H was really struggling socially in school and wanted to hear how she viewed the situation. The meeting was a bit of a shock because we had no idea school were struggling as much as we were, and also that H did not have an IEP! To be honest, although this is a serious matter it was not something at that stage we wanted to make a huge issue of, since they were putting in the full time support he should have, although not targeting it as appropriately as perhaps it should be. Also, I believed we had a good relationship with the school and preserving this is often more important than battling at every step, they care about H and have given him the full time support that he needs.

Since then school have obtained some support from the Inclusive Resource, a service in Suffolk assisting ASD kids in mainstream school. But H is utterly miserable, his behaviour is becoming more alarming and we have regressed to being unable to leave him alone with his younger siblings on whom he vents his frustration. I cannot take the children out alone as H is once again a danger to himself and his siblings, car journeys are very difficult and potentially dangerous. Having left these issues so late in the term there is apparently no possibility of further discussion/input before next term, so we are to be left in limbo over the summer with an incredibly challenging situation! So, with some trepidation I prioritised my son and family life over a good relationship with school.... because in truth, the school have not fulfilled their duty of care to H by failing to amend and update his IEP despite his allocated statement of SEN. The school has put us in an impossible position by telling us about the problems so late in the term and only once the situation has reached the point where exclusion is once again being mentioned. They have not fulfilled their responsibility in light of Every Child Matters because H is now a danger to himself and others including his siblings. Where does that leave us with a six week summer holiday looming? This is a situation largely created by school and it is NOT acceptable for them to wash their hands of it until next term.

It gets worse though. His report arrived home today. No progress in Numeracy this YEAR. No progress in Science. No progress in most other areas and half the targets in Literacy. Seriously - HOW is this "good" progress even in March? What did amuse me was the tick box on handing in homework on time though, he has not once HAD homework in the entire academic year. Oh, and participating in the Yr 4 assembly would indeed have been a notable achievement had he participated. Or sat with the rest of his Year group even, rather than at the side on a chair with his TA.

We did finally get an IEP too. A flow chart for a delinquent child really, with the most absurd "targets" bearing absolutely no relation or formal reference to the targets in his Statement. Is this REALLY the school with an SEN Unit? The largest Primary School in Suffolk? A school we chose for our son and moved a family of 6 for to get him a place? Or, is this really a sad comment on the pathetic attempt in our County and so many others in this Country to pay lip service to the needs of those on the Autism Spectrum? Closing all the specialist schools to save money and attempting to normalise everyone together, with a cross-country token once a month excuse for support? Is this really what we should accept as an education for disabled youngsters?

Well I for one am not putting up with it. I've written to the school, LEA and Chair of Governors. And I don't think anyone reading this should either. I don't need advice on helping my son be polite and calm. He is one of the most polite children I know when his anxiety levels are low and he is happy. That last is so important. In all of this we forget this is a CHILD. No child, disabled or otherwise will ever learn anything if they are not happy. Every Child really DOES Matter. Whatever their needs, and I'm totally sick of fighting for the needs of mine.

What does Thursday 30th June really mean to some of my son's teachers?

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 08:31:00 +0000

It is unlikely to have escaped the notice of anyone reading this in the UK that this Thursday, 30th June, there is a mass-walk out over pensions by teaching unions, the national discussion of which smacks of the "old days" of left v right as words like "Armageddon" and "bringing the country to its knees" are bandied about. I have never supported striking action, but then I have never been in a position when I felt desperate enough. Neither would I criticise or condemn a profession I am so out of touch with as a member, although I hold views as a parent on the education system. Certainly in the current economic and educational climate I am surprised the Government is further challenging teachers, who have by and large coped amazingly with the legislation of the past two decades. Also concerning is the potential far-reaching implications for future recruitment into the profession when morale is already low.

It is a comment on the vocational nature of teaching that after over a decade out of the job I still feel very much one of the profession. For me, teaching was my dream, the only job for me despite my father's very best efforts to tempt me with something more financially appealing. Just as my daughter does now, I would line the teddies and dolls up and play "school" writing out endless tasks for them, drawing elaborate pictures and plans and creating pretend schemes of work. Even around the age of five I was aware that a certain amount of planning had to be involved and Sindy and Strawberry Shortcake needed different support and imput if they were to realise their potential and keep pace with the bears.... so you can imagine my shock to learn that the parallel classes at my son's school do almost no cross-year planning, there are no agreed schemes of work and one child's experience in a single class is not guaranteed - or even likely -to be similar to his or her peers in parallel classes. This was straight from the new head, sheepishly admitting this was a point she wished to tackle - almost apologetically claiming she needed to "convince" the teachers to work together. Similarly, her staff were "legally entitled" to an hour's lunch break and she could not force them to offer clubs. Whatever happened to contractual responsibilities? Lunch supervision is no longer the responsibility of teachers, who also get planning time within the usual timetable. one lunch break a week running a club? Hardly a sacrifice and something I know many friends, former colleagues and teachers elsewhere offer without a second thought.

H's school has a reputation for apathy - but I believed this to be parental apathy. The turnout to the Year 4 "Meet the new Headteacher" meeting was indicative of that - with approximately ninety families in Year four, our school managed a turnout of seven parents. Seven. And two of us are former teachers. Even if two thirds of parents work..... that's just pathetic. Other school events are similar, and there are outstanding parent-governor vacancies from a year ago. This apathy it seems is endemic throughout the school however, and is as much caused by as a product of the lack of professionalism from the school. I commented that it has taken nearly a year for us to START feeling part of the school, since there is no "New parent Handbook", no newsletter, no parent/class reps, nothing. No way to contact parents of new friends to facilitate your child's settling into a new school and no information on how the school runs. I have no knowledge of the topics he is learning (you can be sure he won't tell me) and no concern with getting anyone to achieve anything over the average. Small wonder Ofsted down-rated them. If it were not for the sterling special needs support it would have little to offer us and many other families.

It IS unprofessional. Teaching is not a turning up to class five minutes before school starts, delivering mediocre lessons, hiding out in the staff room at break times in case you might get asked to do something and scuttling home the minute the children have left the premises. That is NOT what teaching is about for the vast majority of dedicated professional teachers in this country.

Is it an illusion that the majority of teachers teach because they want to, because something inside of them yearns to share in the educational journey of children who hopefully want to learn? I actually think it is the case for the vast majority of dedicated teachers in our schools. The long holidays enjoyed by teachers are always the butt of jokes but there was a trade off. As with any vocation, during term time you gave your heart and soul to the job. No one relished the extra lunchtime break duty having just sat down with a still-warm cup of coffee, the loss of any planning time when covering for a sick colleague - but everyone wanted the best for the pupils. I have some experience in both state and private sectors and job satisfaction and commitment to the profession was evident in both. But this professional pride has gradually been eroded by government initiatives, targets and second-guessing. Too many teachers leave the profession disillusioned, despairing at pupil behaviour, lack of respect from above and below.

As far as I can see the only way of steering the ship through such choppy seas is with a strong, charismatic leader. A Captain who has vision, energy and commitment. Who KNOWS who is in charge and is willing to make unpopular decisions. Someone who has enough belief in themselves, their staff and the school to carve a way forward through uncertain times. I couldn't do it, and I'm not sure I would want to in a sea of apathy and low morale. But what concerns me as my son moves into Year five with a new Captain at the helm is that I'm not sure she can either. His is the largest primary school in Suffolk and only the most dynamic, committed and positive Headteacher is going to have a hope of making a big enough difference. That's probably not someone who quotes their employees legal rights over lunchtime to a parent enquiring after school clubs.

Thursday 30th June may well be a landmark strike, certainly it is huge headache for the coalition. But for many teachers at my son's school it is a good excuse for a day off and little more. Which is incredibly depressing.

Prejudice

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 19:39:00 +0000

Prejudice."An adverse judgment or opinion formed beforehand or without knowledge or examination of the facts. A preconceived preference or idea."

Not something any of us would strive for, whether psychological, social, political or religious and yet we are all, every last one of us guilty of prejudice in many ways. OK, not extreme "racism", "sexism" etc that we all associate with the definition, but who doesn't make a premature judgement, hold a positive or negative attitude based on beliefs not facts at some point?

And where do you draw the line? Are you prejudiced for refusing to listen to a band's new album because you disliked the last an the lead singer has had recent bad press? Or swapping seats on the tube because the person next to you is drunk? We all make assumptions based on experience all the time. About pretty much everything.

"Prejudice is the glass through which most things are seen and judged."
Edward Counsel

Usually though, prejudice is harmless, expected and actually useful as we seek to make sense of our environment and protect ourselves from potentially unpleasant or even dangerous circumstances. What I am weary of is prejudice with a capital "P".

I have recently had a discussion online, once again, about medicating children with mental health issues - be it ADHD, anxiety etc. It is a challenging topic to discuss, not least because the vast majority choosing to discuss it are rarely well informed or experienced, and mostly because by supporting occasional, regulated medicating of under eighteens you are immediately seen as some pill pushing liberal who would try and medicate her kids for any little thing.

The Daily Mail has had a busy week already. I'll leave the discussion of Carly Cole and the "baby whisperer" in the Daily Mail to this excellent Blog reply although I could happily oblige. What really caught my eye, and not directly, was the tragic story someone linked to on an "Autism Support Forum" of a ten year old boy who killed himself. not a DM reader, such articles only come to my attention if they wind someone else up, usually via Facebook, but this time someone was actually citing the article for seemingly pointing out how wrong it is to medicate young children for disorders of the brain.

As I wrote at length here ADHD is not merely "boisterous behaviour" and medicating it is not merely sedation but Daily Mail readers do prefer simplified explanations. There ensued below the offending post a long discussion on parents "boasting" that they collected benefits for medicating their children, that there were "always alternatives" and poor parenting was to blame. The prejudice was almost palpable...

Oh the irony - and apparent hypocrisy - since only a couple of threads further down everyone had posted very supportive replies to the mother whose child had been prevented from playing with another because of prejudice. The child in question had Autism and their behaviour was seen as unpleasant. HOW can people not see the double standard? Any challenge from me was rebutted with "you obviously have a bee in your bonnet", to "not all parents are as comfortable about medicating their children". As those who have never had to go through what we and so many other parents have struggled with on a daily basis gave their opinions, I was reminded we were "all in this together" as if online togetherness legitimises Prejudice.

But it's not so much seeing "both sides", those who may "brag" about benefits etc are a tiny minority I would assume, but understanding the condition. If there were a pill to medicate for Autism, remove 90% of the behaviours who here wouldn't be tempted to try it? I would. When you have lived with severe ADHD on TOP of ASD and several other conditions AND have two others with complicated medical needs I think you do see the "bigger picture" - you live it every day. And how is medicating an issue with the brain using unlicensed medication any different from using medication licensed only for adults on children to treat asthma, or gastro conditions like our children? Can you really see much interest in an article based on those?

So next time you see a person with a child who appears fully mobile using a Blue Badge, the older child having a toddler tantrum in the supermarket, the child with a feeding tube who is eating enthusiastically... pause for thought before making assumptions. Likewise, as guilty as the next person of prejudice I am going to challenge myself before leaping to conclusions in areas in which I lack knowledge. My biggest problem as my friends will know is jumping in when in a hurry rather than taking the time (I don't have) to ponder!

We are all familiar with publicised and widely acknowledged prejudice but the popular, unchallenged assumptions we make all too frequently should always be challenged. The only way you can understand someone else's situation is to be them - without that inside knowledge we can only offer subjective opinion, which is still valid and useful, but should be acknowledged as such.

"It is natural to develop prejudices. It is noble to rise above them."
Or my favourite quote from a Winston advertisement:-

"You can judge me all you want, just keep your opinions to yourself" .

A hamster called "Pudding"

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 04 May 2011 09:37:00 +0000

I've never been one for hamsters.. cats and dogs yes, even guinea pigs and rabbits and I did threaten to wish for a gerbil if I couldn't have kitten as a child, but hamsters have always frightened me a little. This feeling didn't benefit from being forced to have a "class hamster" as an NQT - my parallel got the fish tank as pet interest in her class, I pulled the short straw which turned out to be a psychotic syrian hamster.

Our second son decided a few years back that hamsters - Russian Dwarf hamsters to be precise - were his alter ego. There wasn't much mileage in coveting a polar bear, and despite several years collecting the fake cuddly kind he moved on to hamsters. With some trepidation we gave in three years ago and bought him a hamster, and it has been one of the best decisions we have ever made.

Each little furry friend has brought out the best in H, helped him more in terms of emotional and social development than any person has. I even started writing a book "Even hamsters do PE" for children on the Autism Spectrum (and yes, that is copyrighted lol) after being totally amazed at the success our little furry friend has in persuading H to join in PE lessons. After all, hamsters climb and swing all day long, don't they?

But his current sidekick deserves the greatest accolade, having achieved the impossible. Lacking in empathy skills, patience and an understanding of time reward schemes have never worked with H. Why cooperate in the here and now for something on the horizon? A possible, a maybe, such concepts are meaningless to many with Autism. We've tried every sticker chart known to man over the years with little or no success.

Until now. It seems we were focussing on the wrong person - or creature. H wanted to stop his hamster biting when he picked her up from the cage - she is the friendliest little thing once held, but a big hand diving into her cage seems to bring out the territorial side in her. Of course to H (who speaks "hamster", of course) a star chart for a hamster is just as appropriate as one for a child. "Pudding" ("Christmas Pudding" actually, a Christmas gift with a penchant for sunflower seeds...) now has her very own star/sticker chart and H is rewarding her a sticker for every time he picks her up without getting bitten. The connection between effort and reward has suddenly "clicked" and to our amazement and delight H has suddenly seen the light. If his little furry friend can earn stickers and reap the rewards (note to self, stock up on the sunflower seeds) for persistent effort he wants to do it to. For the first time we have 100% "buy in" on a reward scheme - he cares, and understands, and it's working.

I hope the hamster keeps trying, we're definitely on to something here. But if not, I guess that's another point of learning - what happens when you stop cooperating? For now though, I am in awe of this tiny creature with her deep, black eyes and twitchy whiskers. She's achieved what we could not. Hamsters rock - forget puppets helping children with Autism, I'm sold on the pet idea. Especially little furry "Pokemon in disguise"! Who knows, maybe she can finish my book for me next?!

Dear Libby, re The Times "Opinion" 21st March 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 22:49:00 +0000

I may call you Libby, may I? Only you seem to know my family so well from your comments in Monday's (21st March) "Opinion" piece you wrote for The Times that we surely must be on first name terms. I do apologise for my delayed reply, as it is now a full two days since you wrote. Unfortunately my parenting inadequacies prevent me from taking a break from my 9 year old son to read newspapers most days, let alone successfully get him into bed before 11pm and find time to respond on an average night.

Your "insightful" comments on ADHD diagnoses and Ritalin prescription undoubtedly touched a raw public nerve but just how familiar are you with ADHD? According to the 1994, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Ed IV (DSM-IV) ADHD is "a Disruptive Behaviour Disorder characterised by the presence of a set of chronic and impairing behaviour patterns that display abnormally levels of inattention, hyperactivity, or their combination." The diagnostic criteria clearly states that behaviours must be present at least six months and be to such a degree that they are maladaptive and inconsistent to developmental level. I would say multiple exclusions before age 6, landing younger siblings in A and E and rarely sleeping more than a few hours with frequent night terrors were a little more significant than uncontrolled naughtiness.

No doubt you would agree with the parent at H's school who told me I "should not have been allowed more children because I could not control my son" but it may interest you to know I have three other well adjusted, high achieving children who have never shown such behaviours in such a prolonged and detrimental way. I'm not speaking about the impact on the family or school either - and I can assure you I could write an essay on such effects - physical, emotional, psychological.... but you have already formed such hard-set opinions there would be little point. I am referring to the impact ADHD has on my son.

My 9 year old son is also Autistic, a condition commonly co-morbid with ADHD and vice versa. Without his ADHD medication we cannot tackle his Autism, and he was prevented from making appropriate social and emotional progress before his ADHD diagnosis. Most of each school day was spent under the table and anyone endeavouring to coerce or persuade him out would most likely be attacked. It has been a long journey unpicking his difficulties and we are by no means there yet, but ignorant accusations of social ills causing ADHD does little to help H and others like him in their daily battle to cope with the basics of life which so many take for granted. Maybe you could even ask someone with ADHD what their Ritalin does for them - those genuinely needing it often WANT to take it, without it they know they cannot stay in school/college, keep friends, stay out of trouble. Have you even MET anyone with ADHD?

Your comment about prescribing for under 6's was a valid and sensible one. Few would endorse it and a discussion of the point would have added value and perception to an ongoing dialogue. Sadly though, like many others you slipped into the classic trap of challenging the existence of a condition which has historically been shameful and poorly acknowledged. ADHD is not a new phenomenon. Asperger's Syndrome did not exist until Hans Asperger defined it in 1944 - but undoubtedly it was not a new collection of symptoms. The same is true of ADHD.

Neither is medication the only answer, a 1995 study showed that medication and behavioural therapy together, followed by medication only then therapy only had the best long term outcome. Without medication, few would reach stage 3. My son face permanent exclusion from from Key Stage 1, at age 7. I would hazard a guess that goes a little beyond infant "naughtiness". He had no friends and was desperately unhappy. He threatened to kill himself many times, jump out of windows... and he would try and run away. The World was a confusing and distressing place for him.

Whilst medication must always be respected and used with caution, and diagnostic criteria constantly re-evaluated there is a place for it in the valid treatment of a very real disorder. ADHD is real, and it IS a disability. If you cannot see that, then you have not had much experience of it, for which you should be thankful. You makes a valid comment about over diagnosis, overprescription and preschoolers getting medicated - sensible points you had the opportunity to sensibly explore but instead got totally sucked down the ADHD/Ritalin-bashing drainpipe. Because that's where it belongs - that kind of argument is outdated, disproven and belongs in the gutter.

All "Wow-ed Out".

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 20:19:00 +0000

There is an interesting phenomenon I have recently (and belatedly) become acutely aware of. It's not new, but is certainly becoming more prevalent. It's a pretty shocking in its apparent stupidity and appears to deviate from past dichotomies in society, which have long been profoundly entrenched.

I'm referring to the apparent need of some (mostly upper middle class) parents to appear to forget all reason and scale and indulge their children to obscene degrees almost as if they are forgetting that they are in fact children, and (unless visiting from some parallel universe where money does indeed grow on trees) children who will one day have to make at least some attempt at forging their own path in life. The children with every adult techno gadget available, with the adult designer labels I personally would covet if there were any likelihood of me obtaining them who are hurtling towards a kind of pre-pubescent immature adult status faster than their parents can offer the latest iPad.

The irony is that these children are usually the very ones who were spoilt toddlers and pre-schoolers, indulged with everything from the Great Little Trading Co. catalogue, the entire Mini Boden range at full price (rather than second hand via eBay or in their sale) and encouraged to stay young and pampered for so much longer than many of their peers. The thirteen year olds with the iPhone 4, iPad 2 and £1000 Jack Wills birthday spending voucher who have skipped so many years and hurtled into late teens/early adulthood from a delayed early childhood. At some point their parents appear to have decided that they no longer fit the "child" category and accept them as peers, negotiating allowances, bonuses and a social life most of us would be rather enviable of.

I do think Facebook, MySpace and all other social networking sites have a lot to answer for. Far too many youngsters are on Facebook long before thirteen, and even at that young age they are exposed to adult conversation and social interaction which in the past would they would not have been privy to. My son is a "friend" on Facebook, mainly so I can keep an eye on him but I think carefully before posting as HIS friends will obviously see some of what I post via his Wall. Why have we in the West been so eager to let our children rush the growing up process? It's a hard world out there... and some things are best left until later.

What on earth is the point of spoiling your children to the "n"th degree with no regard for childhood needs? Apart from anything else, how can you maintain the pace? A makeover party at six, a smart phone at eleven (on the internet, which you pay for and have virtually no control over) and a wardrobe to die for at thirteen. Not much left, is there? Oh, and the chauffeured car to a London show and the day trip to Spain - both PRIMARY age parties I have learned of too. What on *earth* is left? What value can these children possibly attach to life's rewards? They are, indeed, all "Wow-ed out". No excitement left, no opportunities to earn rewards, learn job satisfaction or experience that fabulous feeling only working really hard for a long time for something special can bring.

We are in grave danger of leaving our children with no aspirations, no excitement, no treats for the future. It is a sharp deviation from the clear child/adult distinction of the past, with the exception of the modern super rich celebs who are perhaps the leaders of this trend. There have always been economic variations and a spectrum of what children enjoy but families of different means on the whole agreed that children were children and treated as such.

We've just returned from the children's swimming lessons where two girls about age 12 were wearing Jack Wills/Joules/Uggs/insert trendy casual designer of your choice, and were carrying handbags I would be chuffed to bits to own. They both had iPhone 4s AND Pandora bracelets whilst their Mum was dressed almost identically. Pandora? At a SWIMMING lesson? Seriously. And then there's the child whose mother bought him an iPhone to keep him busy on the school bus - at age 10. He lost it a week later (unsurprisingly) having run up a considerable bill for internet usage.

These are not meant to be the trappings of childhood.... surely a subscription to the local Pony Club or karting lessons would be more appropriate if parents have more money than they know what to do with? We are very fortunate,and our children don't do badly but they are children, and I am thankful their wants (so far!) have not escalated to such heights. It is incredibly tough being a parent today, there are so many temptations to navigate both ourselves and our children safely through but if we drop our guard and give in we do them a tremendous disservice. After all, very few of us are likely to be able to keep our children in the manner to which too many are becoming accustomed once they have left home and at some point the hard lessons of life will have to be learnt. The chances of them all landing such affluent lifestyles are slim, and we would be setting them up for a very steep fall.

A study out this week suggested British children are amongst the unhappiest in the Western World, and small wonder. Their simple pleasures are being destroyed or removed by Health and Safety concerns, media exaggerated scares and too many well-off kids are being completely deprived of being just that - kids. We are confusing our children and setting them a largely impossible challenge in life, that of finding happiness and satisfaction when everything they could ever aim for has been handed them on a plate.

Why I support Free Schools

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 20:14:00 +0000

As a past teacher and current parent of four (whose ages span 4-13) with considerable involvement over many years in a variety of schools I deplore the narrow restrictions of the National Curriculum. The neglect of the individual, the abandonment of meeting the needs of the spectrum of ability in favour of focussing on bringing the bottom up to meet the mean. Our schools fail too many children. Watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8limRtHZPs and tell me you don't know a Bee or a Fish or a Squirrel in that video. I intensely dislike putting children in boxes and expecting an average outcome.

I have seen too many bright children classed as disruptive because they should be in a different environment, Special Needs kids deprived of an SEN place because our County pioneered inclusion and closed the moderate special needs places and no longer *really* recognises Gifted and Talented kids. Schools focussed on PR missions, social need and community status, banging on about funding when some of the best schools have far, far lower per capita funding and achieve phenomenal results.

The Free School campaign does not need to condemn or criticise any other school, yet so many people feel incredibly vulnerable in the face of it. The focus of this campaign is choice.

I have four children at three different schools and am considering Home Educating one, because "one size" does NOT fit all. Communities and individuals have unique and wonderfully different requirements. And before you slam the "snob" criticism at me one of my children is at a large primary in a deprived area - because it is on the whole a good school with a truly fantastic and inspirational SEN department. I look at my children as individuals, not a group and that was how I taught my classes. An individual school may well be a wonderful for some, and if it is it will continue to attract many pupils and maintain its funding - why the insecurity? But it cannot be - as no school can - a wonderful place for all children. I love the opportunities Free Schools bring - meeting local need for local people for the children who might otherwise NOT have their needs fully met. I deplore "Big government", the red tape which restricts so many of us meeting the needs of our children.

Education is a legal requirement - how it is delivered is not. Free Schools will have to meet certain criteria to qualify for funding and local groups will have the freedom to determine the rest. What a fantastic opportunity - personally I am hoping for an increase in variety to meet the needs of our young people in the 21st Century.

Sibling Rivalry

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 21:05:00 +0000

There is Rivalry, there is Sibling Rivalry, and then there is TWIN Sibling Rivalry.
Despite being a fairly old (and feeling it now!) hand at this parenting business, the strength, depth and emotional energy invested in the rivalry between my twins never ceases to stun me. Don't get me wrong, they love each other to bits, and in fact are probably closer than many sets of fraternal twins but born of that closeness and intimacy is this effervescent, almost explosive competitive urge that exists between them.

In September, we asked a great deal from them. They moved house, moved from Nursery School to Big School (and a new big school at that) and gained their own bedroom each for the first time. The house move was fine, incredibly positive and enthusiastic about most things they took that in their stride. The separate room issue wasn't in fact an issue after all. Separate classes at school has proved a little more problematic though, and curiously not for the obvious reason! Yes, they do indeed miss each other - for the first few weeks they would peer through the glass of the door linking both Reception classes and occasionally burst through for a cuddle. They play together most of the time at playtime, although our daughter is making a few tentative friendships much to her twin brother's disgust! What surprised me was the nature of the BIG issue about being separated at school! They are both incredibly concerned that they might be missing out on something the other is doing!

Obvious really, and I should have twigged that one I guess, but I was thinking more needy, cosy emotional thoughts rather than harsh, bare faced competitive "my day was better than your day" stuff and "our story was absolutely the best too!" Even after over a term they compare notes first thing after school and God help the innocent teacher who has deviated from the identical parallel class lesson plan - be sure you will be found out and reported! They are currently learning about Space, an exciting topic which has totally grabbed K and A. They have raced to learn the planets in order, both pointed out that Pluto is NOT a planet and fought (hard) over who takes which book in to show....

The arguments are wearing, frustrating and continue over everything possible ("My soap has nearly runned out, your's hasn't so you can't have washed properly!" until bedtime when I don't even ATTEMPT to attain consensus on a story. I just read two, whatever. Separately. With one page turner at a time. Thank you.

But I guess what I find most interesting about their competitiveness is that it is ONLY about the trivial, the mundane, the almost meaningless at times. When it comes to the REAL differences they never, ever comment. I wonder sometimes whether this is because it really doesn't bother them - that A reads well whilst K has barely started, that K used to swim fantastically well whilst A wallowed and splashed - but now he's overtaking her in the physical stakes too - or whether it is because those things are non-negotioable. You cannot argue black is white on something there is little room for opinion on. Subjective topics lend themselves far better to competitive rivalry and useful blame culture opportunities. But it does concern me a little that there is never any mention of the *real* issues when striving for twin supremacy.

I would think it would be really, really annoying and not a little frustrating to have a twin sibling excel at pretty much everything and we have always made a HUGE effort to praise across the board, for all achievements in all areas with our four, very different children. What I would really, really like to believe is that the reason there has never been any verbal competition on such issues between the children, not even the twins is that we've succeeded. At least a little bit. That the kids are pretty self confident on the whole, and sure of themselves and what they can do and where they are going without endless comparisons between themselves. I would love to believe that, because sometimes this parenting lark is pretty tough and it would really help, quite a lot actually if I thought I was doing something like that well.

I'll hang on to that thought... it's been a tough month.

Thought provoking.....

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 20:55:00 +0000

As we struggle again with Harry and school a friend sent me the link to this... it's very very very thought provoking, a "must watch" .

Happy New Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 20:19:00 +0000

The new school term began today, a week too early for our liking! I always find it so bizarre that the one holiday when there is plenty going on, with brand new entertainment for the children is always the shortest break of the school year. Our four are exhausted, and need a week post-festivities to sleep and recover, and they are not the only ones since I am stuck yet again in a cycle of insomnia partially fuelled by K's current inability to sleep more than two hours in one go. You would really think by now, after 13+ years of motherhood (yes, I really AM that old!) that broken nights would be a piece of cake, something so second nature I would be able to sleep anywhere. The irony is that Richard CAN and DOES fall asleep like that whilst it is me who is woken countless times each night!

Admittedly we have had some variety over the years... reflux being the biggest sleep stealer of course. Tube feeds, venting tubes and medication-giving took its turn and hysterical screaming from H who would insist every night "I'm not tired and I'm NOT going to bed" until 1am. Or at least at 1am I eventually gave in and he crawled into our bed and asleep or not he was still enough for me to grab a few hours myself before the screaming started again. The award for most original reason for not needing to go to bed has to go to A who recently informed us he wasn't tired at all, and that his eyelids were "just resting"! Chronic sleep deprivation doesn't get easier though, the cotton wooly feeling in my head on the bad days makes me long for my once-sharp mind. I have forgotten or somehow lost the ability to fall asleep and remain asleep all night - even when the children surprise me by doing so! When recently signing up for an ADHD parenting course I wryly asked the administrator if there was a module on coping with Extreme Sleep Deprivation. It isn't a form of torture for nothing.

So today all four returned to school and the mental olympics required for the past two and a half weeks are once again confined to mornings and evenings only- and I can give in to the cotton wool mush in my head until the coffee kicks in without constantly wondering what son number two will get up to next. His latest trick is running off - I say latest but in fact this is not new, just revisited but this time with a little more determination on his part. It scares me silly, but when I have the younger two with me also all I can do is stand still and hope he will return. he usually does however and thankfully so far agrees to wear the ID tag I bought him when out and about.

So it was with some trepidation that I went to collect him from school at 3.15pm today. Would he have run off at school or managed to stay the course with no meltdown? His one-to-one support brought him out to me and informed me he had, on the whole had a good day. "Good" allowed for a lesson refusal, classroom outburst and general bolshy pre-teen behaviour, but that is as "good" as it gets right now. I had to laugh though... her parting comment (and I know her well now, and took no offence) was "I don't know how you manage!". As I watched him crawling on his tummy under the metal fencing around the restricted area currently in his playground, below the KEEP OUT sign I had to smile. I didn't know there was a choice!!

Happy Christmas!!

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 20:33:00 +0000

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

To the Tune of "Twelve Days of Christmas"

noreply@blogger.com (Twins plus Two) — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 21:13:00 +0000

On the First day of Christmas my family gave to me.... Dr Who on the TV

On the Second Day of Christmas my family gave to me... Two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the Third Day of Christmas my family gave to me... Three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the Fourth Day of Christmas my family gave to me...Four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the fifth day of Christmas my family gave to me... Five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the sixth day of Christmas my family gave to me...Sixth (litter)box of cat pee, five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the seventh day of Christmas my family gave to me... Seven hours of sleep, sixth box with cat pee, five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the eighth day of Christmas my family gave to me...Eight loads of washing, seven hours sleep, sixth box with cat pee, five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the ninth day of Christmas my family gave to me... Nine different medicines, eight loads of washing, seven hours sleep, sixth box with cat pee, five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the tenth day of Christmas my family gave to me...Ten O’Clock and counting, nine different medicines, eight loads of washing, seven hours sleep, sixth box with cat pee, five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my family gave to me...Eleven miaows of hunger, ten o’clock and counting, nine different medicines, eight loads of washing, seven hours sleep, sixth box with cat pee, five massive tantrums, four homework projects, three Christmas shows, two bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my family gave to me...A full case of wine! eleven miaows of hunger, ten o’clock and counting, nine different medicines, eight loads of washing, seven loads of washing, sixth box with cat pee, five massive tantrums, four finished projects, three Christmas shows, empty bags of Cranberry and Dr Who on the TV.... With a large G & T!!

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!