QWERTY Mum

The Photo I've Been Waiting For

2013-05-23T04:28:00.000-07:00

There were two official sports photographers snapping away at the Market Drayton 10K Road Race that I took part in recently. After the race, images began to appear online. With over 1600 runners taking part in the race, there were a LOT of photographs. Each day, more were uploaded with the promise of yet more to come.

As much as I enjoyed reliving the atmosphere of the event by browsing through the photos, the money shot for me - the one I waited patiently to view- was the one of me crossing the finish line. My position in the race was 1371st. It was always going to be a long wait!

Today, my wait was over and here it is:

I am so grateful to Brian Smith for taking this photo which will be a constant reminder to me of the sense of achievement I felt (and proof that I actually did it should I ever start to doubt myself). I am also grateful to all the amazing people that made the race happen through organisation, sponsorship, support, help and participation. Definitely a day to remember.

Quarter of a Century

2013-05-21T02:35:00.001-07:00

I have a very clear memory of the day I turned 25. Far from being in celebratory mood, I felt old. I told my (now ex) mother-in-law that I felt old and she sneered at me and called me stupid (she never liked me very much!)

In hindsight, 'old' was not the right word. It was a feeling of childhood being well and truly over. I now fell into the 25-35years age category. There was no more hiding from the fact that I was an adult - with responsibilites. To combat these feelings, I went out into my garden and flew a kite.

In terms of kite flying success it was a big fail - but it did reconnect me to my inner child. I like to think that even now in my 45-55years age category, I have retained that childlike sense of fun and wonder and call upon it when I want to or need to.

This weekend, my eldest daughter had her 25th birthday. We spent a lot of time together running, shopping, watching a performance of Sleeping Beauty by the Vienna Festival Ballet (unbelievably well defined buttocks and thighs perfectly displayed in white man tights), barbecuing, playing online quizzes and finally enjoying Indian take-out. It wasn't hard for me to recognise the signs that betrayed the fact that she was feeling much the same as I had all those years ago. Childhood was finished and adulthood had her well and truly in its grasp. Unlike me, she was not yearning to feel childlike and free. A kite and a blustery day would not have worked any magic on her. Instead she wanted to wholeheartedly embrace adulthood.

In many ways, my daughter was born an adult. She has always had wisdom beyond her years and a sensible attitude that quietly spoke of maturity and responsibility. She and her long term boyfriend have their own home and she has settled into a teaching career. So what was it that she was missing from her perfect picture of adulthood?

Marriage.

When she started talking about weddings, it was very easy to get carried away with it all. I practically had her packed off to an exotic beach location for her 'I dos' before her boyfriend had even had the chance for the 'will yous'. As ready as my daughter is for a wedding and married life, her boyfriend simply isn't.

There is no doubt that they are committed to each other but sadly, there is a huge incompatibility of viewpoint when it comes to marriage. It breaks my heart a little bit to see my beautiful daughter denied her greatest wish and her dream day but I also have respect for her boyfriend in that he won't be pressured into doing something he does not feel 100% convinced about. He has a very logical, matter of fact approach to life and I do believe that eventually the positives of becoming husband and wife will tip the scales in favour of marriage.

In the meantime, I hope he can forgive me for being a little too enthusiastic with my premature wedding planning. Most of all, I hope my daughter can wait with good grace and fully appreciate and enjoy the wonderful life they have together now.

When the time does come, I will be ready for my mother-of-the-bride role and play it with the greatest happiness.

It doesn't always have to be a PB

2013-05-20T04:19:00.002-07:00

Since I started taking part in Telford Parkrun (a not for profit organisation arranging free to enter, timed 5K runs around a local park), my finish time has been steadily getting quicker. It is a great feeling to come away each week with a new Personal Best which is edging ever closer to my goal of completing the course in under 30 minutes.

It stands to reason that you cannot maintain this improvement indefinitely- you'd end up finishing before you even started - but this Saturday, I thought I would be in for a good time.

I had not been out running since completing the Market Drayton 10K the previous Sunday and I was really keen to get back out and see what I could manage over the shorter distance. Stupidly, I thought 5K would feel easy having now ran twice that much. I was very wrong.

Five kilometres may only be half of 10 kilometres but it is still 3.1 miles - which is 3.1 miles more than I would ever have imagined being able to run before starting my beginners training 6 months ago. (Lets be generous and say 3 miles more - I probably could have managed the 0.1!)

I started off really well. My daughter and I jogged from the car park to the start (first time we'd ever even contemplated doing that!) so we were well warmed up and ready. The first part of the course is a long downhill stretch and even with the uphill parts that followed, I averaged a comfortably less than 10minute mile pace. I was well on target, not just for a new personal best but for my ultimate sub 30 minute goal.

Unfortunately, things started to go wrong.

My legs felt fine, my breathing was OK but my stomach felt knotted and my back and shoulders were tired and achey. I tried to ignore it all and power on and sometimes I succeeded, keeping pace with runners in front of me. But it was a struggle. A quick look at my running watch was my undoing.

My watch is set to tell me how far I have run, the time it has taken and my average pace at the end of each completed mile. It became clear that not only was my goal slipping out of reach with each laboured step, but I wasn't going to achieve a new personal best either. I lost heart.

The course consists of a two laps, a long one and a shorter one. Cruelly, you run past the finish twice before you cross the line and even more cruelly, there is a steep incline just beyond the finish. I passed the finish line for the second time, witnessing competitors sprinting home to claim their best time (the elite athletes having long finished). I pushed myself up the hill and beyond, my motivation draining with each step. I thought about my daughter running behind me and wondered if she was feeling as bad as me. I stopped. I walked. I looked around and saw her some way away. I continued to walk and waited for her to catch up.

After a while, my daughter made up the ground between us and I resumed running with her. We both struggled, but we finished. I didn't feel great about it.

This was the thirteenth Parkrun in Telford. Maybe there is some truth in the unlucky connotation of the number 13. Due to a mix up with the start time of the race, the published results were wrong. It gave my daughter and I a time minutes more respectable than we deserved! They were later corrected but the error did have the effect of making me focus less on the importance of my time than I had been previously. It was like a sign - a warning even.

Fixating on getting a new personal best had been a key factor in me giving up and walking. I see now how idiotic that is. As lovely as it is to see real improvement, sometimes it is enough just to get round. No doubt I will have good days and bad days. I will celebrate the good days and bask in the glory of a new PB. I will celebrate the bad days too. As long as I give it all I have, it will always be a personal triumph.

Fifty things... Run a 10K Race

2013-05-13T10:09:00.001-07:00

Well, I did it!

I ran my first ever 10K race in 1hour and 14minutes (does it sound quicker if I call it 74 minutes?) this Sunday at the Market Drayton 10K 2013.

The winner of the race, athlete Chris Davies, set a new course record of 30minutes 39seconds. (He has also finished our Telford Parkrun 5K in 14mins 50secs). This does make my time look pitiful but I was by no means last and I am really proud that I ran the whole 10K without stopping to walk. I have seen some video footage of myself running past and I have to admit that yes I do plod along at the speed of slow. My new target is to speed up a bit - get comfortable with running a respectable 10min mile pace with some energy left for a good final push.

I have a photograph that really sums up the whole 10K experience for me. This is my daughter waving her medal in triumph and just over her shoulder in the background is me, crossing the finish line with a slightly pained smile on my face.

Although for a few moments after finishing I thought I might be sick and if I had not had my daughter's boyfriend to hold onto I may well have fallen over with the light headedness I was experiencing, it did not take long to recover and I felt AMAZING. The sense of accomplishment (and probably a good few endorphins) gave me such a great feeling of positivity and contentment. I was soon posing for photographs and enjoying the company of family and friends who had also taken part in the running or marshalling (and giving much needed support on the way round)

It was a very uplifting and emotional experience taking part in the race - being 1 of 1700 runners, each with their own motivations and goals. The elite athletes (Chris Davies proving himself to be the 'elitest' of the elite), the incredible people raising money for charity in various fancy dress get ups, and the participating masses all sharing the same course, all pushing themselves to achieve what they set out to do. I loved it.

Image by Bryan Dale - www.racephotos.org.uk

My husband finished in 55mins 39secs but paid a high price for his sub 1hour time. He is suffering with knee pain which he thinks is Iliotibial Band Syndrome - a common complaint in runners. Luckily there is a wealth of advice on the internet about how to prevent and treat the condition.

I probably shouldn't be laughing at him!

I still can't quite believe that I did it. The whole thing took on a dreamlike quality as soon as it was over but the lingering sense of accomplishment is something I am going to try and hold onto for as long as possible. It was this sense of "I can do anything" that gave me the courage to step on the scales this morning, take stock of the weight I have allowed to creep on and start to do something about it. I want to be in the best shape possible for my next running challenge - to run 5K in less than 30 minutes.

And perhaps for my pre-race prep next time I will base my activities more around sport science than baking!

Pre 10K race prep - make runner biscuits!

Indigo

2013-05-13T06:10:00.000-07:00

I was recently sent a family board game from Ravensburger to review. I must admit that when I looked inside the box, I was a little perplexed. The game is called Indigo. It is very beautiful with lavishly illustrated playing pieces and board based on tessellating hexagons with glass beads that look like jewels. It has an exotic, almost other worldy feel to it but I was at a loss as to what it was all about and how to play. I left it to two of my teenage daughters to puzzle it out.

As with just about every board game I have ever encountered, the instructions are quite difficult to get your head around. Usually, the best way is to start playing a trial game with instructions close at hand and work it out as you go.

Indigo is for 2-4 players aged 8+. The idea of the game is fairly simple: to collect gems using route tiles to move them across the board towards your gateway. However, the route tiles create intricate pathways along which the gems are moved. The player with the highest value of gems at the end of the game is the winner. It is a game of tactics with the potential for collaborative play in the best interests of more than one player.

It did keep my girls amused for some time and everyone agreed that it is visually stunning which makes it a pleasure to play (as long as your brain can cope with those convoluted pathways!)

Market Drayton 10K Road Race

2013-05-10T05:09:00.001-07:00

There are a lot of signs like this that have popped up in various locations around the town where I live.

The route for the Market Drayton 10K Road Race passes right by my house. In previous years I have sat on my front wall with the neighbours and cheered the participants as they ran/jogged/walked past. I wondered what it would be like to take part and wished that I was amongst their number, pushing onwards towards the finish line.

This Sunday, I will be amongst their number and will know exactly what it is like to take part with each breathe, each step and each pain I experience. I am not looking to set any records. This being my very first 10K I am guaranteed a personal best time as long as I finish, and that is all I am aiming for - to finish, and to enjoy each and every punishing kilometre!

Numbers ready

I only started running seriously last September when I joined a Beginners Group with my local running club. I still have to pinch myself when I think about how much progress I've made since those early training sessions. I have loved the journey it has taken me on - learning about myself and what my body is capable of. I have loved meeting new people and spending time with my daughter who runs with me. I have loved how my husband and two more of my daughters are now getting involved. When I run on Sunday I will be celebrating all of this.

I am very proud to be taking part in the Market Drayton 10K. Not only has this race been voted the Number 1 10K race by readers of Runner's World, it is a fantastic example of community pulling together and achieving something amazing. Now all we have to do is hope for some good running weather!

Lovely days

2013-05-04T11:36:00.001-07:00

There are some especially lovely days...

... when I am really glad...

... that I have a good collection of vases!

Mamia Easy-Pants

2013-04-29T09:33:00.000-07:00

My little boy will be three years old in couple of months. He is my only son - a lovely little late in life miracle after five daughters. I have totally enjoyed the opportunity to buy 'boy' clothes - especially the tiny underpants. We have dinosaur underpants, super hero underpants, robot underpants.... None of them have had much use. He has not been a very co-operative potty trainee.

Finally, I feel I am making a little headway with the process. He still won't tell me when he needs the toilet but I can easily recognise the 'need a wee' dance and the look of concentration that precedes a poo. If I pop him on the toilet, he will perform and be very pleased with himself. However, he is far from being reliable. This is where the pull-up style of nappy is invaluable. It gives me peace of mind when I need it without feeling as though we are taking a backward step. The whole potty training thing can be a lot more relaxed.

Of course the trainer pants cost money and put an extra strain on an already tight household budget. For this reason I was delighted to be asked to try out some Easy-Pants and wipes from Aldi's Mamia range.

You cannot fail to be impressed by the awards the products have received from such institutions as Practical Parenting and Pregnancy and Mother and Baby. You also cannot fail to be impressed by the value. At an everyday price of £2.99 for a pack of 20 junior Easy-Pants and just 79p for a pack of 80 wipes, this represents a considerable saving on the branded alternative (unless you happen to be lucky enough to find them on special offer!)

But how do they actually compare in practice to the branded products?

I have been using the products for a few days now. The wipes are nice and thick and generously sized with an easy to use lid to prevent drying out. The Easy-Pants are a comfortable, neat, snug fit and thus far have not let me down in terms of their functionality. I really can't fault them.

HABA 75th anniversary - Sleepy Princess

2013-04-25T09:19:00.000-07:00

Sleepy Princess from HABA is a game based on the classic fairy tale The Princess and the Pea. The set consists of a double sided playing board, a pretty in pink wooden princess, a royal bed, a dice, a pile of mattresses, blankets and cushions and of course, a pea.

There are two versions of the game detailed in the instructions. In the simple version, players take it in turns to throw the dice (starting with the youngest) and work together to collect bedding items to pile into a stack on the bed in the correct order of mattress, blanket, cushion. If players land on a washing machine symbol on the game board, a bedding item has to be removed from the bed. The game is over if the stack topples (all lose) or you succeed in placing all the items in the pile (all win).

In a competitive version of the game, a maximum of four players each choses a bedding set of a particular colour. Taking it in turns to move around the board, the players pile their bedding onto the bed (or off!) according to the square they land on. The winner is the first to place all their pieces. If the pile topples, the player whose turn it is must take all the fallen items and begin again.

I love that in the second version, the instructions state that the player with the longest hair goes first - very princessy!

This is a game that encourages turn taking, correct use of a dice, a certain amount of hand-eye co-ordination and of course learning to be a gracious loser.

The bedding is gorgeous - bright and cheerful, well made and appeals to a love I have of all things miniature. The bed is made from four pieces of cardboard that slot together. I do worry slightly that it will be prone to damage (on standby with the sellotape!). As it is in my nature to worry, I will also worry about losing the pea which is small and rolls.

My children were just as happy (happier even) playing with the pieces and making a nice comfy bed for the princess as they were actually playing the game.

HABA 75th anniversary - Mini Memo

2013-04-25T08:15:00.003-07:00

There is not a lot to say about this Mini Memo game from HABA apart from that I absolutely love it. Sixteen pairs of delightfully illustrated small chunky tiles for playing the classic matching memory game, all fitting into a lovely little tin for storage. Great for travelling or keeping the kids (and adults!) entertained between courses when dining out. I shall definitely be popping it in my handbag for when a distraction technique is warranted.

Lightweight, compact, sturdy - perfect.

HABA 75th anniversary - Biofino play food

2013-04-25T02:21:00.001-07:00

As a mum, it comes completely naturally to me to disregard my own wants and needs for the sake of my kids. The last bag of crisps or the biggest piece of cake would always go to them, not me. That may be a very simplistic example but it illustrates the point.

My ex husband did not prioritise in the same way. He always put himself first.

To use the food example again, I distinctly remember an argument about the children eating all the cheese. He was furious that there was none for him. I was incensed that he was once again proving his own selfishness.

Horrified as I am with retrospect that we would have such arguments in front of the children, we did. My little Taylor was there. Taylor was timid and wide-eyed. She never really said much. It was so unexpected and hilariously funny when she interjected in a sing song play ground taunt sort of way (naa, na na, naa, na style) with theatrically wagging finger, you got no chee-eese!!

Taylor's 'you got no cheese ' comment has become the stuff of family legend with me and my girls. I don't recall my ex husband being particulalry amused by it.

Anyway, we DO got cheese. We got cheese courtesy of HABA's 75th anniversary blogging project.

We were sent a selection of HABA goodies to review, the first of which, from the Biofino play food range, is Sliced Cheese.

My children love preparing picnics and feasts with their pretend food and it is definitely something I like to encourage.

The Biofino Sliced Cheese Variety contains three different sliced cheeses (the identity of one I can hazard a guess at being something like Emmental because it has holes) and a rather nice tomato slice as a contribution towards your five-a-day. It was a bit of a fiddle to separate the slices as they were firmly attached to each other to keep them looking neat and well displayed inside the packaging.

Once that mission was complete we had enough yellow and orange felt squares and circles (I mean cheese) to make sandwiches for all our hungry teddies!

Unfortunately, to re-use that phrase coined by my daughter many years ago - we got no bread!!

(The HABA Biofino play food range is suitable for children 3+)

See also:
HABA Mini Memo
HABA Sleepy Princess

Gloucester Old Spot Piglets.. and sausages

2013-04-18T03:50:00.002-07:00

Some time ago, shortly after moving out of the family home and into a flat of her own, my daughter Ivy invited myself and my husband out for a meal with her and her boyfriend. Tension between Ivy and the rest of the family had been running high in the months leading up to her making the decision to move out. I hated feeling so at odds with my daughter and so powerless to do anything about it. The meal invitation was an ideal opportunity to rebuild relationships and move towards a more harmonious future.

She took us to a very nice country pub with a reputation for good food. She had dined there before with her boyfriend's family and sung high praise for the shallot and goats cheese tartlet - a shining light in an otherwise limited vegetarian menu. On her previous visit, she had been given a mystery sealed envelope containing a voucher for up to 100% off the bill, which she intended to use for our night out.

The pub was lovely. We were seated near to a log fire which was very cosy and shelves of old books added to the charm. I was hungry and ready for my tartlet.

I scanned the menu.

No tartlet.

Ivy's expression was one of confusion. They had changed the menu.

I didn't have my reading glasses but I was sure I could find an appetising alternative. With a combination of holding the menu at arm's length to accommodate my focus, trying different angles to get the best light for reading and asking my fellow diners "what does that say?" it became clear that there was actually NOTHING vegetarian that didn't involve pasta (boring), risotto (stodgy and bland) or beetroot (plain gross). I was struggling. I did not want to spoil Ivy's treat for us by suggesting we try a different restaurant (she did have her mystery voucher for this one).

My husband is easy. He eats a mostly vegetarian diet but will happily eat (and enjoy) meat occasionally. It is his firm opinion that this is the healthiest approach to nutrition. He chose traditional pub grub - fish and chips.

Ivy's boyfriend chose lamb and Ivy picked one of the vegetarian dishes. I was starting to feel a bit panicky that I still hadn't a clue what to choose. There was a quiche which I was leaning towards. It contained bacon but it wasn't like eating a rump steak. I convinced myself it was vegetarian with a hint of meat. The pint of ale I was drinking on an empty stomach helped with my delusion.

I announced (with justification) that this was what I wanted but almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I had doubts. If I was going to eat meat anyway, why make my selection based on the dish that seemed 'least meaty'. Why not go for it and chose something unashamedly meaty - something that for all my years as a vegetarian I have harboured cravings for - something that kept jumping out of the menu to tease me. I blurted - NO! I've changed my mind!!

With a deep breath for courage, I ordered the Gloucester Old Spot sausages with creamy mash, seasonal vegetables and onion gravy.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth (again)... I felt guilty.

Despite further fortification with my ale, I was plagued with indecision. It was probably getting pretty boring for the rest of the party by now, so a coin was tossed.

The head of our royal majesty declared that tonight, I would be dining on .... Gloucester Old Spot Sausages. Without the feeling of guilt to dry my saliva, I felt mouthwateringly excited.

I thoroughly enjoyed my meal (which was a far cry from our usual Quorn sausages) and Ivy's mystery voucher entitled her to a 50% reduction in the bill (happy Ivy!)

Last week, during a trip to our local organic farm, I had the pleasure of seeing some beautiful little piglets. Gloucester Old Spot piglets. My thoughts turned to my sausage dinner. I actually felt totally OK about it.

Although these piglets were bred for meat, to satisfy a human demand for pork, it did not feel wrong. The organic free range farming methods ensured that the animals had a good life with no more cruelty than one would expect from the simple fact that there are other animals higher up the food chain.

My daughter Liberty's boyfriend is a committed meat eater. I am proud that he choses to pay a little extra for his meat to buy it from the farm. When he purchased a couple of packets of Gloucester Old Spot sausages, I felt no compunction about cooking them in my kitchen and partaking of a plump banger (or two).

It is not something I will make a regular habit of but it certainly bestowed an air of occasion to our family meal. Perhaps my husband is right. A mostly vegetarian diet with the odd meaty indulgence is the way to go.

Easter Days

2013-04-12T02:03:00.000-07:00

The kids don't go back to school until next week but my husband is back at work already which definitely gives the feeling that Easter is over.

The Easter weekend itself was odd for me because two of my girls were in Portugal staying with their father. Although my eldest daughter joined us for lunch, our morning Easter Egg hunt was just for the two little ones, which is much how it will be once Taylor goes back to university and Charis goes off to boarding school. I viewed it as a little rehearsal for when that time comes. Life is going to be very different.

I made a chocolate fudge cake which Addy enjoyed decorating with mini eggs and everyone enjoyed eating.

To round off our Easter holiday festivities, we attended a special spring event at our local community owned organic farm. With the weather having drastically improved from the snow and icy winds of late, it was very well attended with people, possibly like me, desperate for signs of spring. What better 'sign of spring' than gorgeous little lambs playfully leaping onto hay bales. We were all enchanted by them, especially Dylan who just kept reaching in to touch them.

There were lots of activities for the children to get involved with:

Meeting the rescued Owls

Not too impressed with the sticky seed mix used for Making Bird Feeders

Enjoying the reward for completing the Easter Egg Trail

Wondering whether to dare entering the Straw Bale Tunnel

Certainly it was a stark contrast from shopping for designer clothes in Portugal but my girls seemed content enough drinking dodgy hot chocolate from chipped mugs and were massively enthused by the stall selling freshly made fudge in a baffling array of flavours (mars bar fudge was my personal favourite with chocolate and peanut butter being a high ranking contender for the accolade). Taylor bought a magic wand carved from a birch twig and her boyfriend demonstrated his manliness with some welly wanging.

Addy did threaten to spoil the whole experience by getting herself into the foulest of moods and insisting that we only liked 'boring fun' but it really was a lovely family day out to make up for my girls' absence the previous weekend.

Best of all for me though was a warm sunshiny day just before my husband had to return to work. We got out into the garden for a good session of weeding, pruning and preparing for the growing season with Dylan and Addy as willing 'helpers'. I was really excited to see that the snow had not damaged my rhubarb which was bursting into life with the promise of rhubarb crumbles to come. I can't wait to get back out there and start planning and planting. Happy days.

See Brighton and Hove Albion play at home - Fifty things..

2013-04-06T12:53:00.000-07:00

Kicking off our Fifty things to do before we're Fifty is 'See Brighton Hove Albion Play at Home' in their £120 million shiny new Amex Stadium.

I am not going to pretend to be a big football fan. I once had a curious infatuation with a Bristol City goal keeper, John Shaw, which lead to me going to see a match between City and Bristol Rovers many, many years ago ... and I get carried along with the excitement of important England matches. But that is about it. The interest ends there.

Going to see Brighton play at home made it onto our list because of my husband who does love football and has always had a strong interest in the Brighton team being Brighton born and bred himself.

If you are to be taken to see a football match as a non-supporter, this was definitely the way to do it. We were guests of the Directors in the Boardroom enjoying full hospitality thanks to the generosity of a Charlton Athletic director my husband had been working with on a 'Sport in Education' research project. Martin Perry, the Executive Director of Brighton & Hove Albion, was a wonderful host - welcoming, amusing and clearly very proud of the stadium that he had built and the team that call it home.

White chocolate pyramid mousse dessert - my kind of hospitality.

Being guests of the directors meant that we had a dress code that I would not normally associate with football. Men were suited and ladies were expected to dress smartly too - strictly no jeans. I wore my standard, sophisticated little black dress and bought a gorgeous new grey flecked chunky knit wrap-around cardigan to wear over it to keep me warm when we ventured outside the Boardroom for the match itself. This was a naive mistake. Pale woolly flecks shed and deposited themselves all over my black dress. Total wardrobe malfunction. On top of this I felt rather self conscious about two items of underwear I had chosen with body sculpting technology. They seemed to be in competition with each other to push the flab in conflicting directions. One day I'll get it right but for now I feel I have a lot to learn about dressing to impress.

The match itself was a disappointing 0-0 draw but it didn't detract from the pleasure and the excitement of the near misses in the 90th minute as Brighton attacked Charlton Athletic's goal.

Although it was very cold watching the match (even with my problematic chunky knit and the loan of an Albion fleecy blanket) I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The roar of the crowd, the accuracy of passing, the bursts of speed when possession of the ball was won - these were all thrilling. Less thrilling was when play was a bit messy and difficult to follow. During these times I found my attention wandering. The way the sky changed from summer blue to inky black, the warm ups and stretches of the subs waiting for their chance of action on the pitch, the rituals of goal keepers left alone in the empty half of the field - all these things kept me entertained.

I'm sure my experience of the occasion was quite different from my husband's who was like an excited child. We bought him a team hat with the seagull logo as a souvenir.

I was very grateful for the loan of the hat on the cold journey back to our hotel.

***

On the back of the exciting 90th minute, I put a pound each way bet on a horse called Ninetieth Minute in today's Grand National. With odds of 100-1, I stood to make a great return on my small investment. I had already decided how I would spend my winnings.

Ninetieth Minute was pulled up on Fence 11 :(

Forty Miles for Lent

2013-03-30T04:59:00.000-07:00

I've never been any good at the whole 'giving something up for Lent' thing but my decision to do something positive - to add something significant for the duration of time between Shrove Tuesday and Easter Sunday - has been really successful.

I resolved to run Forty miles for Lent. Every time I didn't feel like going out training or making the effort to get off the sofa, I thought about my Lent tally and renewed motivation had me reaching for my running shoes. Once I got back into the habit of running again it became very self supporting - the more I ran, the more I wanted to run.

Then came the snow.

I know that many runners go out in all weather conditions but the idea of contending with freezing temperatures, bitter winds and icy roads was just not that appealing. However, as soon as I could, I was back out and feel a great sense of achievement that I managed to total over 45 miles - never very fast, never very athletically, but job done.

I am loving how the calorie total for my Lent mileage is looking. Although 5,679 calories doesn't quite cover the energy value listed for the chocolate Egg that my husband surprised me with, it does feel like a relatively guilt free Easter.

These 45 miles are just the begining. I have a lot more training to put in before I feel confident about taking part in the Market Drayton 10K race this May... but I am on my way.

Glitter glue and googly eyes

2013-03-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

Although it has only been a short term, I am definitely more than ready for this Easter holiday and to celebrate the start of it, I had a craft session with the kids decorating easter eggs.

Whilst I was having a lovely relaxing, post run (just under three slightly painful miles), hot bath, my husband got busy blowing eggs. He expertly blew six but by the time I was out of my bath and dressed, little Dylan had already 'hatched' a couple of them!

With the remainder, I tried to lead by example and show two under fives how easy it was to transform a plain egg into Buzzbee the bee with just a little paint, some cling film for the wings and a cocktail stick for a deadly looking stinger. They were far more interested in simply squeezing copious amounts of glitter glue everywhere.

Dylan's googly eyed creation

Addy does love glitter glue

The results weren't exactly stunning (although Dylan's actually turned out much better than his big sister's) but they did have fun.

By the end of it, I could have done with another bath.

More Testing Times..

2013-03-28T03:34:00.001-07:00

My little girl, Addy, was not very impressed with the Audiologist. It turns out, she is not too enamoured with opticians either.

Another routine school screening picked up on a problem with Addy's eyes and recommended that we make an appointment with the optician. Dad and three out of four of her sisters wear glasses so the idea of having a cute little pair herself was not a problem for her. She was a little nervous of the darkened room where the eye test was to be carried out but her natural curiosity and love of new games meant that she actually quite enjoyed the majority of the test.

I had no clue that there was a problem with her eyesight. It was a little bit heart breaking for me to see her struggling to identify a picture of a car - it's a sweetie, it's a tube.

The problem only began when the optician needed to accurately measure the anomaly for the sake of the corrective lens prescription. In order to get the necessary measurements, Addy's pupils needed to be dilated with eye drops.

The co-operative, happy little girl transformed instantly into a screaming monster. She was clearly terrified by the concept of having anything put anywhere near her eyes and no amount of reassurance from me or the optician was going to persuade her otherwise. We abandoned the test and made a new appointment.

Yesterday was the day of the new appointment.

We had talked about the need for the eye drops, the procedure for administering them and the likelihood that it might sting a little - like getting splashed in a swimming pool or when shampoo gets in your eyes at bathtime. We performed the procedure on Cookie dog and gave him glasses. Cookie dog was very brave!

She had had a lovely day at school. It was a non uniform day and there had been an easter bonnet competition. Addy was very proud of her (hurriedly constructed!) bonnet decorated with egg box daffodils. She also had an easter themed picture to take to the optician for a colouring competition they were running. I did not expect any trouble from her.

Addy happily handed in her picture at the desk but her mood changed dramatically and suddenly when we tried to usher her into the scene of the previous crime against her - the darkened examination room.

She held onto the door frame and put all her effort into not crossing the threshold of the dreaded room. We did manage to get her in and close the door but I fear it was already too late to turn the situation around. The optician looked defeated before he had even begun. Addy sat on my lap with her head buried firmly into my body repeating over and over - NEVER - whenever I tried to persuade her to co-operate.

Dad had accompanied us to the appointment for moral support so I left Addy with him to see if she might respond to a change of approach.

She didn't.

At least she did not resort to shouting at the optician that he smelled of Poo and Socks like she did with the audiologist (I think I succeeded in making her understand that that was rude and unacceptable behaviour - one small victory I suppose) but there was no way she was going to let him carry out the test.

We did the only thing we could do - reschedule the appointment... again.

The new appointment is a morning slot next week. It is the easter holidays so no school to worry about. Having an early appointment will hopefully mean we can attack it while we are all still fresh and energised. I was utterly exhausted after the appointment yesterday but I have to try and remain positive and do whatever I can to prepare my child without turning it into a ordeal bigger than it actually is.

We had a good chat about trust and being brave and doing things that you don't necessarily want to do because they are ultimately for your own good. This morning, without prompting, she announced that she was going to be brave and have eye drops. My fingers are well and truly crossed!

A Purple Post

2013-03-26T06:42:00.000-07:00

The snow is retreating...

...which hopefully means that these little buds will burst open to welcome spring in all their purple glory.

Today is Purple Day - Global Day of Epilepsy Awareness.

I do not own any purple clothes to show my support (unless you count my purple bra that I am wearing today with pride). Instead, I write my purple post and I do this for my nephew, Luke.

https://www.facebook.com/theepilepsynetwork

A Malory Towers Adventure

2013-03-24T13:04:00.000-07:00

Some time ago, my ex-husband bought the set of Malory Towers books by Enid Blyton for our daughter Charis' birthday.

With the wealth of wonderful Young Adult fiction available these days, it seemed an odd choice. What possible relevance could such old fashioned books published in the forties have for children today? The one dimensional characters enjoying midnight feasts and lacrosse games whilst at boarding school did not seem easy to relate to. The books ended up being donated to a charity shop - but not before we all had a good giggle at the rather stilted dialogue and narration. Spiffing!

Little did we know, the journey Charis was on with her life (and in particular with her education) was about to lead her to a destination not too dissimilar to the world portrayed within the pages of those books.

When Charis announced that she wanted to be a doctor, it made perfect sense. I had never even thought about possible careers for her but as soon as she mentioned it, it seemed so obvious. She is very academic and hard working and has an unusually logical, matter of fact approach to life and problems. She also has a caring and empathic side to her that revealed itself when she did work experience in an old folks home. She respects people. She is fascinated by the workings of the human body. She is incredibly capable. If I were to go into hospital. I would want someone just like her to be responsible for any life and death decisions pertaining to me.

I always try to support and encourage all of my children in whatever ways I can. Sometimes it can backfire and certainly my relationship with one of my daughters was tested to the limit when my attempts to help her move her life forward in a positive way was perceived as unreasonable pressure. Parenting can mean walking the fine line between doing the right thing and getting it totally wrong.

I am as close to 100% certain as it is possible to be that what we are doing for Charis, is the right thing.

The school Charis currently attends is the local comprehensive. It is very convenient for us but I am under no illusions about the quality of the education the establishment has to offer. It has served her well enough thus far. She is predicted As and A*s in her GCSEs and she has a strong friendship group. I believe that she has learned many life lessons that have contributed to the roundness of her character and her resilience as an individual. However, in order to succeed in her ambition to be a doctor, we felt that the sixth form college that forms part of the campus would not necessarily be geared to meet her needs.

We started to look at the alternatives.

My husband has worked in private education for many years and he recognised in Charis the qualities that would enable her to thrive in that environment. He suggested that she attend some open days.

The school that caught her imagination - the school that she could see herself a member of - was one that my husband had worked for previously. His familiarity with the entrance procedure and knowledge of members of staff meant that the process Charis was about to go through was not too daunting. She spent a weekend at the school taking entrance exams, being interviewed and doing auditions for the music department. She took the whole thing in her stride and impressed the people that mattered. She was offered a scholarship for a place with boarding.

Can Charis make the transition to lacrosse from baseball with a brussel sprout stalk?

I was unbelievably proud of her and could see that she had grown as a person simply from taking part in the admissions process.

There were two reasons for not wanting Charis to take the place offered:

1) I would miss her terribly - especially all the help she gives so freely and willingly.

2) Even with the scholarship, there would be a considerable financial commitment.

There were countless reasons to ignore 1 and 2 above.

So come September, Charis will be packing her suitcase with posh new uniform and heading off for a Malory Towers style adventure at boarding school.

In the meantime, I am tightening my purse strings and trying to find ways of economising that do not compromise our lifestyle. I am on a mission to live better for less - to fund the Malory Towers adventure without feeling like the token poor person in a more affluent world. I am actually really enjoying myself with it. You could even say I'm having a spiffing time - marvellously spiffing!

Spring Cleaning

2013-03-22T09:00:00.001-07:00

It may feel more like the middle of winter with snow on the ground and school closures (and more snow forecast) but it doesn't stop me from getting excited about spring cleaning.

At the beginning of last year, my eldest daughter had just bought a house with her boyfriend and I put in a lot of time and energy helping with the decorating and cleaning. Of course we're not talking a quick wipe with a cloth sort of cleaning. We're talking scrubbing with an old toothbrush into every nook and cranny sort of cleaning. Blast it with every chemical cleaner known to man sort of cleaning. The sort of cleaning that leaves you exhausted, aching and with painfully tortured skin on your once soft, smooth hands.

My own home was sadly neglected as a consequence.

Not so this year.

This year, armed with my weapons of choice - a micro-fibre cloth, Parazone spray bleach and the trusted old toothbrush - I am attacking the dirty corners of my home with great enthusiasm.

I have already used two whole bottles of bleach cleaner on window frames and skirting boards and two old toothbrushes have been rendered almost bristle-less. And I am loving it.

I love rinsing out my cloth and watching the filthy water swirl away down the sink. I love the smell of clean. I love taking control and creating order from chaos.

I am finding all sorts of minor (and major) repairs that will need to be attended to over the coming months and there are plenty of places that would benefit from a lick of paint. Rather than being daunted by the mammoth task ahead, I feel inspired and ready to tackle anything. It really is like seeing things with the fresh eyes of someone moving into a new home.

I would love to think that my rooms would stand up to inspection by the Obsessive Compulsive Cleaners of the Channel 4 series - that I could be worthy of joining their bucket wielding army, making Britain a cleaner place one house at a time. Any illusions I may have had about that were shattered when my eldest daughter run a finger over a forgotten shelf in my kitchen to reveal more than a little dust!

My battle against the dirt and disorder continues. Every shiny surface a triumph for me. Whether I will ever make enough headway to compensate for the tireless mess makers that are my children (and husband), I don't know... but I will persevere. And love every minute of it.

My top tips for Spring Cleaning:

1) Invest in good rubber gloves to protect your hands. I use bizzybee multipurpose gloves. They are comfortable, easy to get on and off and are still going strong after a serious amount of scrubbing!

2) Keep your cleaning equipment clean and well organised. When you are trying to create order from chaos in your home it helps to start with order in your brushes, sprays and cloths.

3) Never underestimate the power of elbow grease. No matter what claims the cleaning products make about 'simply wipe clean' or 'rinse away for a sparkling finish', a bit of elbow grease invariably gives a better result.

4) Don't be afraid of the dirt. Dive in and deal with it.

5) Vacuum walls and ceilings as well as floors. It might look a bit crazy but it is amazing how much dust can accumulate on those surfaces.

6) Remember that the more effort you put into your cleaning, the more calories you are burning. A good work out with the bonus of a clean home - perfect.

Testing Times with my little Terror

2013-03-15T05:12:00.000-07:00

My little Addy has always been a feisty one. I actually love that about her. So full of life. But when she unleashes the 'fiesty' into a full blown tantrum - it isn't pretty.

A few days ago, we had an audiology appointment. This was not because I have noticed any troubling indicators that there might be a problem with her hearing. It was simply that a routine test carried out at school was 'inconclusive' and a follow up examination was recommended. At the time I wondered if the 'inconclusiveness' of the test was because she had dug her stubborn little heels in and refused to co-operate. She is not very comfortable with anything even vaguely medical. But as dad has suffered with single sided hearing loss since childhood, we had to take it seriously. I did then start to think that maybe those times when I accused her of ignoring me (the 'up to bed now, Addy' times and the 'tidy up your mess please Addy' times), perhaps there really was a problem.

She was most reluctant to go to the appointment (lending weight to my suspicion that not co-operating was the leading factor in the need for further examination). I CAN HEAR!! she insisted. With persuasion and persistence, I got her into the Medical Centre.

She was fine up until the point when we were sitting in the waiting area... up until the point when the audiologist called her name. She called her Adrian. The stroppiness commenced. I don't like Adrian - I'm ADDY!!!

She refused to sit in the chair offered to her.

She would only sit in the chair already occupied by her little brother, Dylan (cue frenzied battling between siblings).

I was trying to break up the fight, restore calm and answer questions about Addy's general health and any concerns I might have. (No concerns about hearing - PLENTY OF CONCERNS ABOUT BEHAVIOUR!)

By now, I was understandably a little stressed. The audiologist stepped in, offering a toy to Dylan so he was happy. That left me free to concentrate on Addy. I calmed her. I sat her on my lap.

The audiologist took out her Otoscope.

The device didn't really get anywhere near Addy's ear. She saw the bright light shining on the end of it and screamed - THAT BURNS ME. YOU ARE BURNING ME!!

I felt my energy and resolve to be a good parent draining away. I literally slumped in the chair as she broke free of my hold, stood very upright in the corner of the room, arms folded across her chest, chin tilted upwards, eyes closed. She took a moment to look over her shoulder at the audiologist with a hateful glint in her lovely blue eyes and spit YOU SMELL OF POO AND SOCKS! before resuming her posture of defiance.

Thankfully, the audiologist was very understanding and very patient. I thanked her for it about a million times in between apologising for my child's unacceptable behaviour.

Poor Dylan didn't quite know what to make of his sister's aggressive outburst but he was easily distracted by the book of pictures that the audiologist was now holding. He was more than co-operative. He pointed to pictures, naming the things he knew and asking 'what's that one called' for the ones he didn't know. Addy was lured over - curiosity and not wanting to miss out on something her brother had overcoming her suspicion of the audiologist with the burn-y thing. She was very happy to show off how clever she was, pointing to the items whispered to her. Given the level of background noise provided by Dylan who couldn't quite understand why it wasn't his turn any more, she performed superbly. No indication whatsoever of any hearing defect. Unfortunately, it was still necessary to look in the ear with the Otoscope and take a picture with another device.

The audiologist tried to show Addy the Otoscope so she could see there was nothing to be afraid of and the light would not burn. Addy grabbed it off her and would, had I not intervened, have thrown it across the room. She then refused to let go of it, gripping onto it with a strength that no nearly five year old should possess. After much prising, the instrument was finally returned but we were no closer to a successful examination.

The suggestion that a picture should be taken of inside her ear sent her running to the corner again, where she turned all the lights off and plunged us into darkness!

It was obvious that we were not going to achieve anything without a general anaesthetic so the appointment had to be rescheduled.

I try my best to practise positive parenting. I explained the importance of the examination and between now and the next appointment, the plastic otoscope from the doctor's kit she had for Xmas will be gently probing toy's ears at every opportunity. I hope that will be enough to avoid a repeat performance.

I love my little girl with all my heart but she does push me to the limit sometimes. She plays on my insecurity about being an older mum by saying things like "I love you mummy but I don't love your wrinkles" and then there's "I love you mummy but I love daddy more"

Yesterday when I picked her up from school, she had a picture that she was bringing home. I made the mistake of putting the picture inside her book bag for ease of carrying. If the audiologist could have seen her, she would have realise that she got off relatively lightly during the aborted hearing test. Eardrum shattering screaming. Vitriolic accusations that I needed a checkup because I couldn't hear what she was saying. The picture needed to be carried a certain way and I wasn't doing it right.

You feel the eyes of other parents - some sympathetic, some surely thinking what a terrible mother I must be to have raised such a vile child. The tantrum lasted the whole laboured walk back to the car. I made her carry the picture herself which certainly was not following the path of least resistance.

Later, I asked myself why I didn't just carry the picture in the way she wanted me to. Anything for a peaceful life. There was a practical consideration - one hand was holding Dylan's and the other was holding her lunchbox and book bag - but there is more to it than that. She is wilful and stubborn. I never want to quash her spirit but I do want her to learn to temper her wilfulness and stubborn streak and use them in the pursuit of the positive - NOT for getting her own way at any cost, for controlling people around her or in the avoidance of medical examinations.

She is challenging. She is difficult. But she is amazing and wonderful and glorious... and honestly, I wouldn't change a thing about her... (modify slightly... maybe!!)

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

2013-03-12T11:23:00.001-07:00

Despite having lived in our current house for eight years and having done a huge amount of work to it, it has been sadly lacking in some of the finishing touches that would make it feel really like home. We took another small step towards rectifying this last month.

February gives us Valentines Day and for my husband and I, a wedding anniversary to celebrate.

We decided to commemorate these romantic occasions by purchasing a new mirror to hang over the fireplace in our front room.

Just before Christmas I bought a mirror for our living room. I always imagined buying something oak framed to match the fireplace but when I saw a spangly mosaic framed mirror in a local warehouse, I had to have it. I had no idea if it would work in the room or if my husband would take one look at it and refuse to hang it but I took the risk. My worries were unfounded. My husband loved it and I think it looks gorgeous.

Buying a second mirror to live up to this one was a big task. I wanted something grand and ostentatious. The sort of mirror that you could imagine finding dusty and forgotten in a dark and unwelcoming antique shop with a creepy owner. The sort of mirror that may hold dark mysteries.

Unbelievably, I found it.

We went to the same warehouse (which is rapidly becoming one of my favourite places for a browse). It wasn't instant love. I had reservations that the finish of the frame would not complement the colour of the chimney breast. There was an easy solution. I re-painted the chimney breast.

I absolutely love my new mirror, pictured here while the paint was drying and then in pride of place.

I do feel that I have taken another small step towards the home I want.

My D*ckhead Husband

2013-03-10T03:05:00.000-07:00

It may be first thing on a Sunday morning, it may be snowing, but that doesn't stop my Darling Intrepid Cycling Keen Husband, Eager And Determined (or DICKHEAD for short) from setting off with the local Cycling Club on the second of his Reliability Races in as many weeks.

The racers met at the car park at the back of my house but to avoid the struggle to get the little ones properly dressed and ready on what was supposed to be my relaxing Mothers Day morning, I waited outside my house (camera at the ready) for him to speed past in the opening moments of the endeavour instead of seeing him off at the start. Minimum disruption to my pampering at the hands of my children.

Contrary to what my husband had informed me was the route, the pack of pedallers did not pass by my house. I just happened to turn around from my viewing spot to see the flashes of high vis lycra whizzing past the T-junction at the end of my road. Photo opportunity missed - snow settling in my hair - Oh well! - GO HUBBY, GO!!!

I do tease him for how he looks in his lycra and how geeky he can get about equipment or training or technique but I am very proud of him for pursuing his passion and for being in the best shape since I've known him.

A Taste of Childhood

2013-03-08T01:07:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, my mum bought me The Great British Book of Baking. It is the official book that accompanied the BBC series The Great British Bake Off which she and I both enjoyed.

Mum bought me the book after I admired the copy she had purchased for herself - one of many recipe books that she treated herself to last year. The funny thing is that despite having an enviable collection of recipe books, she hardly ever cooks anything from them. She has her tried and tested recipes that she knows by heart and rarely deviates from them. More often these days, she lets my dad loose in the kitchen while she gets on with her latest knitting project or goes on her computer. Dad and recipes really don't mix.

So despite a wealth of ideas and inspiration at her fingertips, my mum's cooking repertoire remains small. She is very competent with what she does but feels no desire to get experimental.

The other odd thing about my mum's cooking, is her obssessive compulsion to have everything perfect. Biscuits must be regularly sized and shaped. Any that fail to meet her rigorous standards will be thrown in the bin (or given to dad to eat!). Choc chip cookies must each contain the same number and distribution of choc chips (she places them meticulously by hand to achieve this). I laugh about it with her but it really is very alien to me.

I love to cook. I especially love to try new things or tweak old recipes to give them a new twist. I do take a pride in the presentation but if it all goes wrong and looks like roadkill (which it often does), I am fine with it as long as everything is vaguely edible.

Recently I was reminded of a couple of old favourites of my mum when I came across a two hand written recipes. I remember her cooking these particular family favourites in the kitchen of the house I grew up in. I had a go at making them myself.

Although the recipes couldn't possibly have belonged to my mum as they were metric - grams is a swear word to my strictly pounds and ounces mother - the taste and cooking smells were very nostalgic.

Of course, if my mum had made them, the jam wouldn't have been so blobby and uneven and the sultanas may just have been a little more evenly distributed!

fantastic publish, very informative - Anonymous

2013-03-07T04:03:00.001-08:00

As a blogger, I love when a reader leaves a comment. It gives you a feeling of connectedness and it is great to know that your words or pictures have touched another person causing them to smile or empathise or best of all, be inspired.

However, I am not enjoying the massive influx of spam comments that have been appearing on posts old and new in their hundreds, each anonymous and each with a link to a slightly dubious looking website.

I have been doing my best to clear up the spam manually as the filters on Blogger that I have relied on in the past seem to be obvious only by their absence.

I do not know enough about the virtual world to understand just who gains by the spam comments. Clearly, someone is profiting enough to make it a worthwhile pursuit.

At first, I was amused by the comments. Usually written in slightly clumsy English, they flatter the blogger with phrases like fantastic publish, very informative - and my personal favourite What a stuff of un-ambiguity and preserveness of valuable experience on the topic of unpredicted emotions.

Now, it is starting to feel like a violation.

My blog is my personal space. The content is my own and I certainly do not want to endorse links to gambling websites or cures for genital warts!

The internet is a vast and unknowable place with huge potential for good but as with all things, there is a dark side and the potential for misuse and abuse.

I will continue to blog with enthusiasm and feel delight when a genuine comment is posted. I doubt I have seen the last of 'Anonymous' but it is reassuring to know that with one click of the delete button, he is gone.