The Winds of Change

Change, that words sweeps a world of emotion over me at this time. It makes me feel a little scared, a little worried, a little apprehensive for what will be, for you see my world is turning and changing.  My whole family is experiencing the winds of change.

I have lost my youngest companion, my wonderful Mini to school this week and it is a huge change in my life.

My balance is off, my sense of direction skewed and I am not sure which way I should be facing.

For you see, my child, my wonderful confident, happy child has embraced this change in his life with open arms and gone running in to the unknown to breathe in all he can.  To learn new skills, make new friends, experience new things, to learn to be still in life and to also use the life lessons I have spend the last four years instilling in him.  He makes me proud, proud that he is confident enough in himself to feel the joy of newness.

Maxi too is being stellar about the change from Reception to Year one, which is some ways is harder than the transition Mini is going through from preschool to reception.  Maxi now has a timetable, regular break times and regular lessons throughout the week.  He has more responsibilities within the class structure too.  He is relishing the changes and is enjoying being back at school. 

But for me it is harder, I put on a brave face, a happy front and will not allow them to see my feelings or to pick up on my anxieties, for these are mine not their to be concerned about.

So what of me, well I am trying to put my best foot forward and look at this change as an opportunity.  A beginning, yes the beginning of the new me.  I am still looking for part time paid work (writing, PA, sewing, anything for some extra money), but in the interim I will be going in to school twice a week and baking with the 90 reception class children.  3 children at a time, so hopefully I will have baked with them all by Christmas. 

I am going to be making biscuits with them and some of these children will have never baked before.  Many of them will think that biscuits come from a packet.  We live in Teesside, which is where the BBC predict the public spending cuts to hit hardest.

This post was inspired by this weeks writing workshop over at Sleep is for the week and more speicfically by the work that Sian, Mummy-Tips Josie, Sleep is for the Weak and Eva, Nixdminx  are doing on behalf of Save the Children

Every year almost 9 million children under the age of five die, most of them from preventable illnesses such as diarrhoea, pneumonia and malaria.

At the end of September Nick Clegg will be at the UN Summit in New York. Ten years ago world leaders set targets, called Millennium Development Goals , to reduce poverty, hunger and disease.  So please sign  the petition to get Nick Clegg to push for commitment to the targets at the UN Summit.  Lets make change happen for the people less fortunate than us.

A Family of Emotions

Mini just can not control them, they are so visual, so transparent.  It is like looking at me.

I see burning red and hot orange embers.  The lava flow that just erupts before he has a chance to think about anything else.  He has no hold on them, no way to stop acting on the impulses they give him.  He has no perspective, no patience, no understanding of them.

He physically reacts, throwing, hitting, shouting, screaming, banging and crying.

He feels them in his heart, head and fists.  

To the point of exhaustion.

Maxi is comtenplative, a real thinker, he is learning to harness his emotions and to keep them in check.

He is brave and often his lower lip will tremble, when he skuffs his kness, just a little, enough for me to see.

When he is tired, then the emotions bubble to the surface.  I watch as he attemps to supress them, holding his breathm until they have to come out.

But his joy, wonder and amazement are still there for all to see.

MadDad is a happy man, a mellow fellow who lives his life with joy on his face and in his heart.  He is laidback and tolerent of nearly everything.  In all our time together I have only ever seen him angry on a few occaasions.  He always tells me that anger is such an unproductive emotion, that it doesnt solve anything, so he has learned to let it flow out of him.

He is a protective man and you can see how much he loves his family on his face, he is not afriad to show his emotions and he sets a wonderful example to the boys.

So that just leaves me, I for far too long have found that the dark emotions have been the ones that are the strongest, but I no longer allow them to take over my life.  I have learned to make the most of everything.  To look to the best in people and things.  To see the joy in the small things in life.

I am also taking part in The Frugal Families Welcome Wednesday

Writing Workshop - Tainted Blood

Mini sometimes I look at you and it is like looking at a mini me in the mirror.  My boy, you are going to have to learn to control that temper of mine that you have.  That boiling anger that I can see clearly inside.  You are going to have to grow and learn how to engage the brain, before putting the mouth in gear, learn to count to ten before erupting into the volcano of fury you can be.  It isn't going to be easy, I have said some hurtful things in my time due to my bad temper, but one thing that being a mother has brought me is a modicum of patience.

Maxi, I see a lot of your daddy in you, your intelligence, you willingness and your kindness are all wonderful traits of your Father.    You also have your Daddy's love of all sports and it is so lovely to see you get involved and enjoy being outside.

You both fill me with so much joy, you have the best and worse of the two of us and with that all the potential to be a unique individuals.  You can mould and sculpt the traits you have inherited and turn them in to something new, something special.   This is all in your hands, they are your choices to make.  All I can do is influence you to be the best you can.

There is something though that is out of our hands, that we have to leave to destiny, to fate and to this end I pray every night to a God that I am not sure exists.  I pray that you do not carry the same genetic "spelling mistake" that I do.  I have stopped trying to see who you most take after physically in the hope that I can not passed on my tainted blood, in addition to those wonderful brown eyes you both have.  

I hope that the small top lip you both have doesn't mean that you too are susceptible to the genetics that have made me make the hard decisions I have.  

People often say "doesn't Mini look like you and Maxi like his Daddy" and each time iIhear it, I cry a little inside.  I hope that looking like me, doesn't mean that you too are sentenced like to to worry, wonder and pray.

This is my burden, mine and Daddy's and we try and carry it with dignity and grace.  I graciously accept all complements about you both, for you are my pride and joy and together we will deal with what my tainted blood will bring.  I love you.

This post as wrote for Sleep is for the Week's writing workship, I chose promt 1. What qualities or traits do you think your children have inherited from you, you partner, or even from your extended family?

Writing Workshop - Lost

Something lost, but where?

I am bereft without, alone

Mine to find someday.

Very short and sweet this week, but my brain can not function, this post was inspired by Sleep is for the weak writing workshop prompt 2 what part of you is lost and you would like to find again?

Writing Workshop - Hues of Orange

We had a caravan when I was growing up.  No, not one of those wonderful static caravans, no we had a box on wheels, so summers were spent setting off in the dead of the night to the English Riviera. 

Well before seat belts became compulsory, my parents would pack the cool box, the pillows and the duvets to make the back seat in to a makeshift bed for my younger brother and me and once we were asleep they would gently lift us to the car and start our adventure.

Often the we woke to the sound of cars thundering by, as my parents had a cup of tea from the thermos flask in a lay by before setting off again on what seemed like a never ending journey to the other end of the country.  A place where the sun shone and was much warmer than our little patch of the North East.  

Once we arrived at our destination we were dispatched to the park on the site whilst the van was prepared for that night, only returning when our stomachs started rumbling.  Left to make friends and leave the parents alone, so that they could open up the wine and get the windbreak pitched.

I remember these trips fondly.  Of baths in buckets and cold showers.  Of share toilet blocks and running in the dark and cold for a pee in the middle of the night.  I look back on the endless days playing swingball with my dad and my mum managing to cook a Sunday roast in a caravan oven and I want to repeat them with my children.

I grew up with regular visits to the English seaside.  Where you needed to have a windbreak and a great big towel for once we came out of the water.  I have memories of being in the sea in a blow up dinghy connected to my dads arm by a long piece of rope, of having the freedom to rock pool and build sandcastles.  The great big moats filling up as the tide came in.

The Breakfasts were always cooked by Dad and we would have sausages, bacon and eggs fresh from the closest farm.  We never had to have cereal like at home.  Holidays were special.  A break from the norm, something to be cherished. e feeling of sand between by toes and often between my teeth too.  

I used to hate the holiday coming to an end, I used to dread the packing up.  I loved spending time with my dad and this meant that he would be returning to work.  I was a real daddy's girl and we would be inseparable for most of the holiday.

We would always stop at a farm and pick up bags of plums and other fruit before making the long journey home, once home we would make jam or "sunshine in a jar" as it became known to me as a reminder of those heady days of high summer.

Those care free, heady days of the 70's, where everything seemed to be orange or brown or it is in my memory, but I wonder how much of that is due to the orange hue that the photographs have taken over time.

I loved the summer, I still do.

This was written for the writing workshop at Sleep is for the weak and I chose prompt 1. Summer

Writing Workshop - The best things come to those who wait

 
The best things come to those who wait, well that's what they say.

I am not good at waiting, no I don't have a patient bone in my body.

If I want something then I want it yesterday.  I want it NOW.

I have been known to stamp my feet and bat my eyelashes to try and get what I want.

But what about when not one can give you that thing?

What then?

For me I hid my need, I pretended that I was happy.

I even managed to convince myself that life was good.

And it was.  I was happy.

I lived a good life, a great life and managed not to think about what was missing.

But ever so often, something happened to make me realise what was missing.

Something that made me take a sharp breath in order to take the pain away.

Where was I, yes life was good.

Every so often, I would be given hope, only to have it dashed.

I was given glimpses in to the life that might be.

Sometimes these periods lasted six weeks, sometimes a lot longer.

But each time they were fleeting, leaving me with a sense of deja vu.

Each time I came back stronger and more determined that there was nothing missing in my life.

We talked about the fact that we were content with our lot and I was finally resigned to what I had.

Then it happened, something collided and the planets aligned.

Finally after years of waiting,

After the heartache of getting close, far too close on occasion.

We were blessed with a happy, healthy baby.

And then just like buses who seem to come all at once.

fifteen months later we were blessed with another.

No I no longer need to convince myself that life is good.

life really is good, we really didn't know just what we were missing.

I didn't realise that my jigsaw puzzle had four pieces.

But now I have what I wanted all along and I am not going to stop giving my all.

I am happy.

This week for Sleep is for the Weaks Writing Workshop I chose Prompt 2 Write about something that was worth waiting for – what was worth the patience and frustration?

 

-Inspired by new mummy’s Tiddlyompompom and And One more Means Five who both had gorgeous babies this last week. Congratulations!

Writing Workshop - My Spring and Summer Manifesto

Dear Voters (well my boys in this one)

We will make life fun, we will focus on laughter and giggles and grasp what we can get out of the day.

We shall enjoy the seaside and I will ensure that we have the wet suits in the car at all time.

We shall endeavor to make the most of the sunshine and of the environment around us.

We shall picnic in our secret place and run free on the moors.

We shall barbecue in the garden on a Saturday evening focusing on good food and great company.

We shall enjoy the harvest from our garden.

We will make, bake and create on a regular basis. I will not worry about the mess, or stress about the outcome.

We with feed the ducks and float homemade paper boats on the pond.

We will go on family walks and use your maps to explore new places.

We will explore the wonderful parks in the local area and find our favorites.

We will camp and explore new areas, cuddling up under our canvass.

I will try not to shout, but you will need to listen and not just hear.

We will swim and play football.
I will try to say yes more.
I will try and be the best I can.

We will dream, we will grow and we will remain family.

This post was inspired by promt 4 What’s YOUR party manifesto? for Sleep is for the Week's Writing Workshop

Writing Workshop - Untill the next night

I am anxious, trying not to think about what might be wrong

I am trying hard to banish any worrying thoughts from my mind

To compartmentalise my health worries

Separating them from our everyday life

But I am tired, oh so tired, exhausted beyond belief

Trying hard to keep up with my boys

which I do manage most day's

But my nights suffer for it

The thoughts they run free in the dark

No longer masked by the bright sunshine of the day

They invade my sleeping hours

Leaving me no where to hide

So how do I verbalise my worries?

Will talking about them make them feel more real?

I can not give them any more power than they already have

So I will keep them to myself for now

I will the night to pass, the clock to tick forward

bringing the darkest hours before the dawn

Dawn brings me my family, my reason, my being

Giving me something to distract me

I can almost feel the apprehension gripping on to my heart

The nervousness making my tummy turn to jelly

Yes I am worried

But I refuse to allow the dread a presence during the daylight hours

And soon enough the day does come

A shard of light piercing the dark night

The tiptoe of tint feet

And great big warm cuddles making everything alright

Untill the next night .......

This week I chose prompt number 5 - Pick an emotion that best represents your state of mind right now and write creatively on that theme.

I will come back to haunt you - Writing Workshop

I was hot, yes I know I was in a hospital and they are always hot, but normally the dressings clinic is OK. 

Yes the window is open, but I know that I am a little off, just not right, I can not put my finger in it and it is about to get worse.

The nurse has returned with all the things she needs to remove these stitches and I will be so glad to see them go.  No blue thread making  my chest look like a zip, no more pulling and pressure as the skin tightens around them.  I am so happy to see them go, the boys less so, there is something about the gruesomeness of it all that makes them love them so.

Anyway, I take a deep breath and hold on tight to MadDad's hand, "you might feel slightly nauseous" says the lovely nurse, I just press her to get it all over and done with.  I don't notice the pain to be honest, I am too busy concentrating on the drip of perspiration that is going to fall off my nose. 

"All done" she tells us chirpily, "you have healed pretty well, apart from one spot on the right, I am just going to get some dressings for it" and off she pops behind the curtain.  The curtain fabric that I have become so familiar with, the white one showing local landmarks, The Transporter Bridge, The Tees Barrage and High Force.

"I don't feel right" I say quietly to MadDad, "I am so hot and look my chest is so, so red".  "Lets ask to see a doctor, one of the ones that know you".  As soon as the nurse returns, I insist that I need to see my Consultant.  "He is in surgery" she tells me, so arranges for me to see his SHO Tom.  Tom is great and listens to my concerns and notes that I am a little flushed (normally I am as pale as a vamp) and also yes my chest area is slightly red.  He draws a line around the red area and disappears leaving me and MadDad behind that curtain again.

Cheerfully he pops his head back from the said curtain "I am arranging to have you admitted for observation overnight, they are just sorting you a bed".  I look at my watch it is 2pm, so I agree with MadDad that he will pop home and get me a bag and arrange for the boys to  be looked after longer and then return as soon as he can, whilst I grab my clothes, pop them on and make a hasty exit to the dressings clinic waiting area.

I grab a magazine and start to read, I am still hot, although I am getting a nice draft from the fan.  I take off my coat and scarf (I haven't removed a scarf since my mastectomy, it is a shield, it makes me feel as though I have breasts).  I am slowly getting hotter and hotter.  I ask the receptionist for a glass of water, she take one look at me and calls a nurse over.

It is 4pm and they have found me a bed, the nurse comes and asks me to follow her, I hear her voice, but my legs wont do as I tell them, I stumble.  I keep trying to get up and walk after her, but I cant and neither can I find my voice.  I see MadDad arrive in the corridor and he sees me and drops the bag and come over and gets me up.  Together we stumble to a bed.  I hear him talking to me, but I can not concentrate on the words.

MrsMad "wake up, you must wake up", "We need to find a vein now", "her temperate is 40.7 degrees, we need to strip her" and then I feel pain, pain like never before, they are holding me down and trying to get blood from my groin, I can hear a woman screaming in what seems like the next ward, but no that noise, that scream, it is me.  I feel so detached until I hear the words,"her kidneys are failing, her organs are shutting down, I think we are dealing with Sepsis"  Sepsis, that one word does it, it drags me from behind the curtain back in to the real world.  My dad died of Sepsis, I will not succumb to the same fate as my father.  What about Maxi's first nativity.

I hear myself speak, before I even say the words "Do not let me die, please do not let me die, I want to see my children grow up, I will haunt you forever if you let me die" and that is all I have to say on the subject and that is pretty much all I remember of that night.  The night when they opened all the windows on the ward (it was a chilly March night), had fans blowing on me, gave me the domestos of antibiotics, updated MadDad hourly of my progress (he had to return to the boys).

I don't remember my wounds splitting, or the discussions regarding surgery (I apparently begged them not to operate again, to leave it till my husband was with me), the waiting for an Intensive Care Bed.  That night I came the closest I have ever come to not surviving my ordeal, but my the morning I had started to get better.

I wish I could say it was as simple as that, but it really wasn't.  The sepsis left more scars, emotionally and physically that all the previous surgeries put together.  I spent 2 more weeks in hospital on iv antibiotics with a stoma bag over each wound.  The bags were replaced daily  and that was a trauma in itself, but the worst thing was watching my children suffer.  Maxi behaved impeccably and they were even allowed to remain in my room with me during meal session, but mini, poor mini.

He thought he had me back home, we hadn't expected Mummy to be whipped back in to hospital and hadn't prepared him for it and all he wanted was Mummy.  He withdrew, became clingy, stopped eating and sleeping.  Controlling the only aspects of his life that he could.  It was heartbreaking.

It has been a long and hard uphill struggle at times, but I am alive, thanks to the quick thinking of a great team of Doctors and Nurses and also my wonderful family.  With them by my side I can conquer anything.  Hard to think that this was just under a year ago,  We have come such a long way since then.

We may not have it all together, but together we have it all.

This post was inspired by promt 2 - Write about a time when you felt, or you felt someone you loved, was in real danger.

What is so wrong with my Children?

Writing Workshop - Do not be defined by what you can be, rather who you can be

What can I say about a mothers love, the love I feel for my two boys

The need to give them happiness throughout their lives

To see joy in their faces

To be privileged to experience with them so many firsts.

First Steps

First Smile

First tooth

The first feel of sand in their toes

To be able to pick them up after their first fall.

To be able to give unconditional love.

To love their faults.

To instill in them the morals of their father.

To teach them to be righteous men, with big hearts and a strong comprehension of good and bad and the sense to make the best choice.

To go down the right path.

To be blessed with experiencing wonderment.

To introduce them to Father Christmas and to instill in them that giving is better than receiving.

To watch them grow and blossom

To find the love of their lives and watch them mature

I am truly blessed with two wonderful boys and the chance to make a difference

I wrote this on 22 August 2006, when mini was less than two months old and Maxi was just 17 months old and it means just as much then as now, if not more.    I wrote it after a 2am night feed and was unable to get back to sleep, whist I watched mini sleep peacefully. 

I chose option 3 What do you secretly dream of your children doing?

When I think of what I hope my children may grow up to do, there isn't one job, one career that comes to mind and that is OK.  I am resigned to the fact that I place more emphasis on who they are and who they can be, rather than what they can be.

The one thing they do both know, is that they can choose to be the best that they can be and that I will always be there.

 

15 years ago my body let me down

I could go down the I have a genetic spelling mistake and my body is my biggest enemy, route,  but been there done that and there is something more apt, something more perfect for today.  As today is my 15th Wedding Anniversary.

Picture this I was 21 years old and we had set the date, MadDad and I.  March the 18th 1995.  The dress was bought, the hair was planned.  I had the tiara and the veil.

We had been together a year, yes not long in the scheme of things, but we knew that it was the right thing to do, in fact I had knew that MadDad was the one from the minute I met him when I was 16, but he was taken and that is a whole different post!

We had decided that we would announce our engagement and the date for our wedding a the same time and we also decided we didn't want a big engagement, so September 1994, we told our parents we were getting married and there was 6 months to plan it.

Long enough to get everything in place, but not too long to start fretting about things and also not long enough for the costs to get all silly.

Everything was in place, just the final little bits to sort, nothing major and then I realised that I couldn't see right, that road signs weren't clear and that there was something wrong, so off to the opticians I went.

It was a disaster I was short sighted and I needed glasses.  The optician was baffled as I had only had my eyes tested 6 months previous and the deterioration was pretty serve.  So I needed glasses.  I went home and I sobbed my heart out.  I was so upset.  I got some glasses and I hated them.  I didn't want to wear them to the wedding, but how would I see anyone.

So back to the opticians I went to ask about contact lenses.  Yes I could have some, but they would be pretty expensive, in fact they were going to cost in excess of £100 and it was £100 we didn't have, especially as we had just found out MadDad had been made redundant.  So I went home sad and defeated.

The next day I received a phone call from the opticians to go back in and collect my lenses, I was baffled, he went on to explain that my mum and dad had paid for them for me and that he wanted me back in so that I could get used to them over the week before the wedding.

So on March 18 1995 I walked down the isle to here comes the bride and I could clearly see MadDad looking at me with tears in his eyes.  I could see the congregation, I could see my mum crying in the front pew and I was overjoyed.  As I walked down the isle Mrs Mad to I vow to thee my country I could see everyone looking at me.  

Yes my body let me down, but my family didn't.

Marring MadDad was the best thing I ever did, it was the best day of my life and I love him more today than I ever though possible.  So I want to say thank you, my soul-mate for being there for me through thick and thin, sickness and health and for being the constant companion by my side.  I love you.

Under Pressure

I usually thrive on pressure, at least I did BC (Before Children), but now I am not so sure. 

I think maybe I was being optimistic about looking for a part time job, as it seems that mum is not going to get back on her feet so easily this time and it looks as though I am going to have to spend more time looking after her as well as the children.

What the Consultant has said is that she has permanent lung damage due to smoking and also the latest chest infection and reduced her respiratory ability too.  They officially  call it Type 2 respiratory failure or COPD.  In the olden days it would have been called smokers lung or emphysema.  In all honesty I wish they would have called it either of them with mum when she was first diagnosed as it may have spurred her on to quit smoking before now, which is too little too late.

She also has been diagnosed with anemia, which is obviously not helping with her oxygen stats, so has had a number of scans.  She will also need a gastroscopy and colonoscopy, but can not undergo the sedation at the moment as her oxygen levels may drop too much (sedation reduced the rate you breath at).

Mum has been staying with us since her discharge from hospital a week ago and now the hard works starts in getting all the help and financial assistance we can.

My mum lives on her own and this will not change until she needs round the clock nursing care, as she will not be looked after in either my brothers or my home (her choice and one that I am relieved immensely by).

We always thought that it would be her rheumatoid arthritis which caused her to be unable to manage the stairs, so last year when an endowment matured she had a downstairs wet room installed, which will be a godsend, however, we still need to arrange to get 2 stair lifts installed.

Why two you ask, well mum lived in an old victorian terrace and the bathroom is set on a landing between two staircases, as it was an add on at the rear of the house along with the kitchen and the levels are different to the bedrooms.

I also need to arrange a wheel chair, as up to now we have always borrowed one when necessary.

Someone to come in and do the cleaning and the ironing in the short term.  Once Mini is at school full time in September then I will do this on a daily basis, however, mum is going to need some help and assistance in getting up and dressed for a little while and also in cooking meals etc.

It is so, so hard and makes me really sad.  I never thought I would be responsible for looking after my mum at 36 with a nearly 5 year old and a 3 year old to look after as well.  In addition to this I am aware that it is important that I continue to work on my relationship with MadDad too.

Yes I am feeling it, the pressure, this is my mum, the woman who brought me up, we may not always see eye to eye, but I love her and can not bear the thought of losing her.

Yes I am under pressure, I want her to live as independant a life as she can, I want her to enjoy her life and I want the grandchildren to have happy memories of their time with her.

Yes I am under pressure, social care teams are woefully understaffed and getting any support is hard.

But I am also under the opinion that you are only given the things you can handle to deal with and as a family we will all get through this.  My Brother has been fantastic, visiting every night even though he really needs to be in the club.

MadDad is being a star as always, giving me the space and time I need to blog, be with the children and an ear to moan into and arms to fall into.

I am not looking for sympathy, as you know that is not my thing, but a little understanding now and then, whilst I work at getting the balance right for all involved and yes I may be under pressure, but I do have my mother to celebrate mothers day with this Sunday and at the moment, after the few weeks we have had that is all I could have asked for.

This post was inspired by prommt 5 What is making you feel under pressure right now?

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor or what I wish I known when choosing a career

When I was growing up I always wanted to be an accountant, well I gave it a try and did pretty well, but it wasn't for me.  The only interaction I got was with numbers, so I took an opportunity and became an Office Manager for a small company who were on the up.

I used my skills to help relocate the company to Berkshire and went on to become a Facilities Manager for a large software company.  I loved my job, but.....

It just wasn't flexible enough when in came down to spending time with my children.   It was kind of an all or nothing position, where if the office was burning, I would need to be there.  I couldn't give my boys 100% and work 100%, it just didn't add up and as you have guessed, I am an all or nothing type of person.  I would never have been satisfied in not being the best I could.

So we made the decision to relocate back to the North East in the hope that we could afford for me to be a stay at home mum.  What went wrong, well I needed to have the operations, I had complications and MadDad was forced to take unpaid leave and we were forced to get in to debt to pay the mortgage.  So I guess life happened!

So no financially we are in a bit of a bind here in TheMadHouse and the time has come for me to start looking for another job, ideally starting in September when MiniMad goes back to school.

I wish it was as simple as it sounds, but I am not willing to compromise on my time with the children, so I am looking for:

A school hours job, which would need to be term time only or

A job working from home or

An Evening Job

I am looking, but these jobs are like gold-dust, they are what every mother seems to be looking for and that my friends is what brings me to my title.

When at careers fairs whilst growing up, I was encouraged to find myself a career, something high powered, something full on, something 9 to 5, what no one ever told me is that once you have children things change.  You may find yourself wanting to take career break, which can mean it is hard to keep up with current requirements for your chosen career.  You might want to work shorter hours and this can be hard when managing people and contracts.  

What I wish I had known back then was that I wouldn't have wanted to be at work during my children's early years, the years when I can influence them and make an impact on their lives and that when I did return to work I wouldn't have the same ambition or requirements.

So it is back to looking through the papers, visiting the job centre and networking for me.  Trying to find a position that fits in with the needs of my family.

In an ideal world, I would love a job share with MadDad, but we went down different paths, so it isn't possible.  I don't want to be a teacher, I know that although it may seem like a suitable term time position, but all the teachers I know put in about double the hours people realise.

It just seems like a waste, I know my mother feels that it truly is, or at least she did.  She admitted that she feels that she was envious of the fantastic career that I had and wishes she had been privy to the opportunities I had, but the truth is that I feel that the children are my job and I am more than happy to make them my priority for the immediate future.

Would I have gone down the same road if I had realised that I would feel this way after I had the children.  Well hindsight is a wonderful thing.  I really don't know.

What I might have done was look at a flexible career, maybe nursing, or maybe even looked at being a teaching assistant.  I most definitely would have taken a serious look at working for myself in a flexible position.  Even being a hairdresser would have given me more options than I currently have.

So how do I move forward from this, for once I have no idea.

Marching to the beat of my Drum

 

I used to be in a marching band

I used to play the kazoo

yep that awful, awful gold thing

that no one knew what to do

I used to wear a uniform

with frilly knickers underneath

I used to wear a big white hat

with a chain that hit my teeth

Green and white or Red and blue

The uniform depended on what you do

I had gold epaulets and a sash with medals on

My mum and dad were very proud and used to cheer me on

I had a feather in my hat

knee high socks that just wernt cool

This was the secret that I kept

From my friends in school

The thing is that I was good at it

I won lots of trophies and awards

My unform now is all fornlorn

in my mothers drawers

Twice a week we used to practice

in the old pier hall

until the floor became rotton

And the boards began to fall

We walked for miles and miles

not always in weaqther all that fine

I was promoted to Band Major

I swang my mace and ensured that we all kept time

I used to be in a bank you know

It wasn't cool, it wasn't hip

I used to be in a band you know

I aren't any more, so tootle pip

Pen pals for Children Required and Secret Post Club

We all love receiving mail and Heather at Notes from Lapland has started the secret post club to satisfy  the need to send and receive little parcels in the mail.

I received my wonderful parcel this week and it was  lovely to receive something in the mail.  I was paired with Silent Beauty, American Mom in England and I received some wonderful yarn and two special boxes of yummy treats.

Now this got me thinking and I would love to start something similar for the children in our life, but rather than sending a present, it becomes a letter swap.  Old fashioned pen pals.

Image Creedit D Sharon Pruitt

 

I would love to encourage maxi and mini to have better penmanship and to encourage them to write, but to also communicate effectively by mail and there is something wonderful about receiving mail, even as a child.

So If you would like to get involved then either e-mail me (address as the bottom of the blog) and I will co-ordinate.  Initially I will need the age and sex of your child or children  and any preferences and then I will pair them up.  I think it would be nice for the children to remain pen pals long term, so that they can develop a relationship,

It will be great to tell them about the are they live, their family, their interests, hobbies, holidays etc. 

So come on sign up and lets get our children writing, lets introduce them to the joys of letter writing and receiving and lets keep penmanship alive.

Writing Workshop - What were you doing this time last year

 

It is karma that this prompt came up on this weeks workshop, as I have been discussing this with my wonderful friend Wendy (my homestart lady) today. We took the boys for a good old run out and about yesterday afternoon in the woodlands near home and stopped for a well needed pot of tea and scone, whilst the boys climbed trees outside the cafe.

It is nearly one year since my first breast surgery. I was frantically trying to fit everything in that I needed to. I have booked 6 weeks of Tesco Deliveries, a book of all the things the boys liked, ate, did and schedules. But specifically the one thing I was doing a year ago was writing letters.

I wrote 4 letters and 3, I will share with you, the one I wrote to MadDad is not and never will be for public consumption, but I wrote one each to the boys and one explaining why i was doing what I was.

Writing those letters was the hardest thing I had ever had to do, but I was so unsure of the outcome of the surgery and so scare of dying I just needed the boys to have something to hold on to if the worst happened.

Letter One - Why I am doing this

BRACA and its implications to us all as a family

I wanted to explain to you both why I am undergoing the surgeries I am and how it can or could impact on our lives, both individually and as a family.

History

My Aunty C (Grandma’s sister) died of cancer when I was younger and it was a really hard time. My cousins were in their teens and it was really hard on them. Then Aunty T contracted Primary Peritoneal cancer, which thankfully at this time is in remission. Whilst she was undergoing her treatment a blood sample was taken for genetic testing due to her older sister having died of cancer and also the link of peritoneal cancer to both breast and ovarian cancer.

We all were over the moon when she was given the news that she was in remission and that the treatment had worked, but this was tempered with the news that she had a “spelling mistake” in the gene that is responsible for Breast and Ovarian cancer. Grandma was offered a test for the same genetic fault and she too was found to be positive and had her ovaries removed.

As Grandma was positive, I too was offered a blood and DNA test to see if I too carried the spelling mistake. Your daddy and I discussed the implications and we decided to have the test in January 2008. 6 weeks later I was given the news I expected which was that I too was positive.

We met with a number of doctors and consultants and researched lots and lots and finally after lots of soul searching made the decision to have prophylactic surgery.

All the research I had done indicated that removal of the ovaries before turning 35 was most beneficial in reducing the risk of both ovarian and breast cancer, so in July 2008 I underwent surgery to remove my ovaries and fallopian tubes.

I made a super recovery, I was driving two days later and went swimming with both you boys the week later.

We also discussed the prospect of a double mastectomy and reconstruction with an oncologist and plastic surgeon. There were a number of reasons that I chose to have this operation, even though it is quite a major one.

· Breast cancer is very hard to diagnose before 40 even with annual mammograms or MRI’s as the breast tissue is denser the younger you are.

· My risk of breast cancer is an 85% lifetime risk; a mastectomy reduces it to about 6%

· It is harder to diagnose BC correctly on larger breasted ladies.

So based on these facts and after talking to people who have had breast cancer and treatment for it, we decided to go ahead with the operation and it is scheduled for 27 February 2009.

There is a risk that I still may get an associated cancer and so will need to remain vigilant, but at least this way I am not living with a ticking time bomb.

The Future

Due to the operation I am having, I will need further operations in the future, but these will be a lot smaller and less risky.

One of the things that does upset me is that there is also a possibility that you both carry the “spelling mistake” or mutation too and this will have implications in your health and also the health of any children you may go on to have. You will both be offered the test at 16 and can make the decision yourself if you want to find out.

I hope that the way medicine is moving forward that the gene is now isolated that it can be repaired and that you will not even need to make any decision about your or future children’s health.

I am doing this so that we can all have a future as a family, so that I can watch you grow, develop and change without the worry that I may not be around much longer.

Maxi Mads Letter

Dearest Maxi

I so hope that you do not have to read this letter, but if you are it means that something terrible has happened.

I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me and how much I love you and your brother and daddy too.

You bring me such joy and amazement everyday and sometimes terrify me with your ability to remember the littlest thing. You always know what to say to make me smile and are the most amazing son a mother could have asked for.

I had a challenging pregnancy with you and then an eventful birth followed. You were a beautiful baby. I and your daddy were so sure that we would think you looked wonderful no matter what and we were right, but you defiantly prove the rule that the sum of the whole is greater than the two parts.

Sleep was not something you blessed me and daddy with and you gave us quite a scare when at 4 months old you developed breathing difficulties and have to be hospitalised and helped to breath. You were a fighter and pulled through, only to go downhill again a month later (the week before your baptism), but again you made a fantastic recover and got out of hospital the night before we travelled back to R for your joint Christening with V.

Your little brother Mini was born when you were 15 months old and all of a sudden you went from being an only child to being a big brother and you were and still do look after “your baby” and “Lee Lee” as you used to call him.

You have a natural ability for mathematics and puzzles and often can do them faster than me (not that I am any good at them).

I have always wanted for you to be happy and to enjoy life, to not be too burdened with the worries before your time. I want you to have a happy and carefree childhood and have enjoyed spending time on the beach with you and also taking you swimming on a weekly basis, in fact you are and always have been my water baby. You say you would like to be a “surfer dude” and will have all the rad moves.

You can be quite challenging, but that it down to the fact that you are bright as a button and if not kept occupied then can be very mischievous. Infact once you took all the glitter out of the craft cupboard and decorated the house.

You love your food and I love cooking for you and we have had great fun growing our own veg and fruit. We have a messy, but happy time in the kitchen baking and cooking together. We like to make muffins and pizza together and we love to all eat at the table as a family.

You can use a computer better than me and can beat all of us on the wii at MarioKart.

I have been lucky to have been able to remain off work and spend lots of time with you, watching you grow and develop, but also influencing (hopefully positively) the person that you are going to be.

I would like you to remember that you were born of love and that I love you more than words can express. You have brought me so much joy and laughter. I am sure that you will grow up to be a fine man.

Remember to keep helping round the house, learn how to iron and cook and you will be a real catch. If you can be half the man your daddy is then I will be happy.

e have wanted to instil in you manners, morals and a sense of kindness and compassion. I would like you to take a look at the world and look for the best in it and in people and try to stay positive, even when times may be hard.

I would like you to try and develop a deep and constant friendship with your brother, family is important. It was the reason we return to the North East from Reading where you were born. So please keep in touch with all of them.

I hope the rest of your life is everything you want it to be. Hard things can and will happen and I know you will find ways to survive, be strong and learn. Daddy and Mini will be great people to grow up with, lean on, rely on (and argue with sometimes!). I hope you will have a group of special friends to trust and eventually someone special to love. I hope you find work that satisfies and nourishes you. I hope your dreams come true – whatever they may be. And on the special days of your life, remember me and know that I am so proud of you and I am surrounding you with love.

It has been wonderful to share these years with you. I'm so sorry I couldn't stay. I'd have done anything to be able to. My love for you is so strong – nothing can break it, certainly not something as insignificant as death. My love will surround you, protect you, nourish you and support all the days of your life.

Mini's Letter

Dearest Mini

I so hope that you do not have to read this letter, but if you are it means that something terrible has happened.

I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me and how much I love you and your brother and daddy too.

You are a light in the dark sky, a fantastic son and a wonderful brother too. You made our family complete and have always enjoyed being my baby and had a special smile that you only use for me. When you were tiny you would only settle for me and secretly it was nice, especially as Maxi is such a daddy’s boy.

You were a very much planned for a wanted addition. We enjoyed Maxi so much that we wanted another child as soon as we could. We were blessed to have you so soon after trying.

You were gorgeous, just like your big brother, but you had a wonderful head of dark hair just like me. Again you were not a great sleeper initially, but I used to look at you and your big brown eyes and everything would be all right

You were and are such a placid little man, fitting right into our family, as though you had always been there. You were a proper little mimic and it seems as though you were talking from 6 months old and have a fantastic musical ability. You love to dance and you love The Wiggles more than you love me – or so you say. You love playing on your guitar and being a rock star.

As you grow, you seem to look more and more like your grandpa B and my one regret is that he has been unable to meet both you boys.

You have the ability to make even the sternest person smile and seen to bring happiness to everyone.

You have been blighted with my temper and are a stubborn as a mule refusing to back down and if you don’t want to do something, then boy do we all know.

You may not have wanted to sleep early on, but you love your bed and sleep now and cuddle all your bears in bed – there is Bear, Bear Bear, Spare Bear (to wash against the other), Moon Bear and Red Bear who all have to go to bed with you and you take two on car journeys too.

You love to colour and read books, you like to tell me the story, in addition to having them read for you. Your imagination is vast and filled with a childish innocence. You have great fun at toddlers when it is sticking and gluing. In fact you are filled with a wonderful creativity. You love watching the moon on a night.

I would like you to remember that you were born of love and that I love you more than words can express. You have brought me so much joy and laughter. I am sure that you will grow up to be a fine man.

I like to think that I have been blessed to have been able to spend the precious early years of your life with you and hope that I have managed make a positive impact on you and shape the person that you are going to be. I hope that you have a strong sense of belonging and that you always remember how much I love you.

Remember to keep helping round the house, learn how to iron and cook and you will be a real catch. If you can be half the man your daddy is then I will be happy.

We have wanted to instil in you manners, morals and a sense of kindness and compassion. I would like you to take a look at the world and look for the best in it and in people and try to stay positive, even when times may be hard.

I would like you to try and develop a deep and constant friendship with your brother, family is important. It was the reason we return to the North East from Reading before you were born. So please keep in touch with all of them.

I hope the rest of your life is everything you want it to be. Hard things can and will happen and I know you will find ways to survive, be strong and learn. Daddy and Maxi will be great people to grow up with, lean on, rely on (and argue with sometimes!). I hope you will have a group of special friends to trust and eventually someone special to love. I hope you find work that satisfies and nourishes you. I hope your dreams come true – whatever they may be. And on the special days of your life, remember me and know that I am so proud of you and I am surrounding you with love.

It has been wonderful to share these years with you. I'm so sorry I couldn't stay. I'd have done anything to be able to. My love for you is so strong – nothing can break it, certainly not something as insignificant as death. My love will surround you, protect you, nourish you and support all the days of your life.