Ed's Dreams

The other night, while trying to settle my boys down for the night and reading a bedtime story, my eldest son Ed started to ‘natter’.

The closer we got to Christmas eve, the harder it was getting to settle them down, they were more and more excitable every night, and I got more and more frantic as the nights went on.

Despite this however, I try not to disregard Ed’s nattering, because when Ed natters, all sorts of marvellous truths pour from his four year old mouth, perceptions and opinions one would never know he had until one takes the time to actually listen. But, one does have to sit through a certain amount of crap to get the good stuff.

So, even though I was trying to get through a story (and I do so hate being disturbed), Ed started his nattering.

He told me;

“Sometimes when I’m dreaming, I wake up a little bit and then my dreams turn into thinks”

I said;

“That’s brilliant! That happens to me sometimes. And sometimes, when you wake up a little bit, you can change your dream or add things to it to make it better. It works especially well if you’re having a bad dream, you can bring in a superhero or Dr Who to save the day”

Amazingly, he replied;

“When I’m having a bad dream, I take it out my head and put it up there on the shelf (pointing to the shelf he can reach near his bed). Then I get my magic wand (standing up -much to my dismay since I’m trying to get them settled- he pulls an imaginary wand from his imaginary back pocket and waves it in the air) and I ‘ca-booom’ it (insert magic wand sound effects here). It makes it into a good dream, and then I put it back into my head” (jumping off his bed, fetching his dream and plonking it into his head).

Completely blown away by this, I finish our story, kiss them goodnight and off they go to sleep.

What an amazingly contented little man he is!

I’m proud of him, and of me. I’m sure I’m not alone and that we all have those moments when we think we must be the worst mother in the world. But then there are moments like this, when I realise despite all the crap of everyday life, I have actually managed to bring up a two small boys who are confident and happy and contented. 

And to quote Metallica, nothing else matters.

It’s Only a Laugh isn’t it?

In light of the sad news of the nurse who took the prank call from the Australian DJs ending her own life, I started thinking about the whole prank culture.

I don’t know all the facts of this story in particular, but from what I can gather, she was a busy but fabulous nurse who was living away from her beloved husband and 2 children. 

I guess you never know how close to the edge someone might be before you play a trick on them.

All my life I’ve been utterly gullible. I still remember my first April fool’s day at high school. I had no idea what I was in for and, when i think about it, I can still feel that yucky sicky claustrophobic feeling in my belly. Ugh.

I know I’m being a wet blanket but, really, making someone feel like a piece of crap is not my idea of fun. These days there are so many ways to ‘prank’ someone, and it seems to be part of our culture. People are expected to take it on the chin; anyone who doesn’t is seen as a sore loser. I suppose it depends on the trick. As we have all learnt from this poor nurse, when you play a trick on someone, you just never know how it will end, and I suppose thats the gamble. I almost feel bad for the DJs, they are putting up with a lot of flak, but if someone went to a casino and lost their life savings, it would be their own fault, and I think if you run that risk, you have to live with the consequences. It just sucks that their mistake is so very public and so very tragic.
Trying not to be so bloody high and mighty, I tried to think of ways in which the boys and I prank each other or enjoy other people's pranks. We, as a family, we love watching ‘You’ve Been Framed’ and we all laugh aloud when the people fall over, in some cases they obviously really hurt themselves. I myself fall over a fair amount and it always leaves me in uncontrollable stitches, but I don’t know how I’d feel if those falls were entirely someone else’s fault. As it stands, it’s just me being clumsy, but if someone played a trick on me and I got really hurt and think I’d be hopping mad.

The boys and I play peek-a-boo constantly, and sometimes it’s hilarious. I’ve made Ed jump so far out of his skin he fell over and cried (nothing a cuddle can’t fix). And sometimes he hides in clothing racks in shops so he can jump out on me as i pass by (I always know where he is, the fool). But we have just one rule; we never play it at the top of the stairs! Can you imagine that trip to A&E...

Nightmare Gossip

I had a really bizarre dream a few nights ago.

I dreamt I was on my way to confront someone about why she wouldn’t let her son be friends with me. When she answered the door, she had a 3 year old at her feet, vying for her attention. When I had decided to go see her, I guess I hadn’t considered how much she might hate me, but once she opened her front door, it turned out to be a fair amount, to the point where when I spoke to her child (whom I could relate to as my own children are a similar age), she plainly told me off.

“Don’t you dare talk to him” she said.

Not wanting to worsen the situation any, I focussed my attention to her, trying to solve the issue.

When I asked why she wouldn’t let me see her son,

She simply said “because you are notorious”.

I couldn’t understand why she would think that about me, so I pressing her further. She said she’d heard all sorts about me, like the time when I had dropped a box of strawberries while running from the police with a stolen Wii.

In the dream, I knew exactly the incident she spoke of and laughed aloud at the twisted ridiculousness that is that story. I explained that what had actually happened was a friend and I were running to my house, yes, with a box of strawberries which I dropped on the way, to get back in time for my curfew. Also, the event took place before the Wii was even invented, in about 1995.

However, she still didn’t believe me. She said she’d heard loads of other stories and that one explanation wasn’t going to clear it up for her.

Now I don’t know why the hell I wanted so badly to be friends with her son, thankfully there was no face or name to embarrass me in the morning.

Weird dream, and unexplainable, except in one thing.

I hate gossip.

I hate the way people won’t talk to each other, be honest with each other, let things stew and then let the Chinese whispers twist the truth far from recognition.

The things I have heard about myself in the past have genuinely shocked and appalled me.

I am reminded of the phrase ‘there’s not smoke without fire’, and I know I’m not the most well-behaved person, and there has certainly been some smoke in the past, but that doesn’t mean I was making great big bonfires.

I wish people would just ask for the frickin truth rather than talk behind people’s backs.

If you care enough to chat about it, chat to the person it’s happening to and get the truth. I reckon, more often than not, these people need love and support much more than they need judgement.

It's 'Ed', not 'Eb' Darling and the Christmas Card Tragedy.

Ed had a go at writing his Christmas cards this year.
He started school in September and he LOVES it.
He has the sweetest teacher, who has got him to do things I couldn’t dream of. He sits down when she tells him to, hangs his coat up, helps tidy..all the things that I ask him to do at home and he just ignores me.
She has also managed to teach him how to read.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re not one of those families who don’t read and then wonder why are kids can’t. Our house is full of books, the boys have had shelves full of their own books for years, and I have plenty more. They see me read and write regularly, and we read to them every single day, but Ed seemed to think it was a grownup thing, something he couldn’t even attempt, despite my efforts. He would read himself a book, not because he knows the words, but because he loves the pictures and he knows the story, which is absolutely fine. There’s nothing wrong with a love of books.
Being faced with a class full of his peers, they have learnt jolly phonics together, and Ed is doing fantastically well.
I’m so pleased.
But he doesn’t really care for writing yet.
That’s fine, he’s only 4, he’ll do it when he’s ready.
For now he’s happy to write ‘Ed’ (his full name is too much, he says), so that’s what he wrote on 20 cards. It took him one evening and one morning (we had a break half way through because he got fed up), probably only half an hour in total, which is fab.
So this morning, he proudly took them into school. He wouldn’t let me hold them, he HAD to carry them but they wouldn’t fit into his pocket. However, on the way out of the car, he dropped them in the gutter, where they landed in an inch of leaf-littered rainwater! Argh! He was so upset. I quickly fished them out and dried them off with a microfiber cloth (bloody brilliant those things) and popped them in my coat pocket for the rest of the journey to school. There was a point where I was trying to decide if it was worth it, but he was so proud of himself, and he was so gutted to have dropped them, and we’d got to school early so he could give some out in the playground so it’s not like we were running late.
So my little man is happy and has all his cards to give out to his friends (even if some of them are a little dog-eared). Thinking about it, he didn’t thank me for my efforts but I know he’s grateful.
And the best thing about it for me is, Ed no longer write ‘Eb’, he gets his ‘d’ the right way around, AND, despite the standoff between us when he wanted cards for his friends but wouldn’t do any writing at all, Bean wrote some of his own too. I finally managed to get him to write the first letter of his name and I wrote the rest.

There’s a reason I didn’t buy any chocolate decorations...

There’s a reason I didn’t buy any chocolate decorations for our tree this year. I saw some very nice ones and I was a bit tempted, until I thought about the reality of it.

Unfortunately, a few days ago my darling Mother brought some round. She lovingly went through the whole nativity story with my boys. They put the character stickers onto the chocolates and hung them on the tree in order of appearance.

Very quaint.

Except they hung them all in one place - at dog height, so I moved them higher, still boy height, but not little terrier height.

However, ever since I’ve had constant requests;

“When can we eat the chocolates mummy?”

When we take the tree down, I reply.

“When can we take the tree down mummy?”

“Can we take it down mummy?”
“I don’t want the tree anymore; can we take it down mummy?”
“Can we eat the chocolates mummy?”
“Can I just have one mummy?”

I have since changed it to one each on Christmas day, then the rest when we take it down.

So now I get;

“Is it Christmas mummy?”

“It’s Christmas time, why can’t I have a chocolate?”

Its Christmas time, not Christmas day. There’s a difference.

“I don’t want the tree anymore; can we take it down mummy?”

Round and round in circles we go.

That’s what I needed, more stress, more reasons to refuse requests made by small boys, more things to keep a hawk-like eye on...

One chocolate has already suffered a terrible end. It was found by Daddy broken on the floor, so obviously someone was brave enough to get it down and break it into two, but not cocky enough to eat it (deep, deep down, they are good boys haha). Daddy put it in the fridge, but unfortunately I just ate it. Serves them right.

If I have to put up with much more of this I shall just give in. I believe in choosing my battles well, and this one just isn’t worth the hassle. It’s hard enough trying to get them to leave the advent calendar alone! (I am very tempted to fill it with small toys next year instead, but they would fish them out, play with them, and then return them. grrr). No one can expect a 3 and a 4 year old to cope with this kind of temptation. Only recently did Ed go into his auntie’s bedroom, found a Lindt chocolate bear she’d bought for a friend and came down to tell me about it. When she returned home it had an ear missing. He just couldn’t hack the temptation.

Chocolate and toddlers. They are powerless.

There’s a lovely story about very small me versus a chocolate covered cake, armed with a potato masher, but I won’t go into details.

Anyway, no more chocolate tree decorations! Christmas is stressful enough with two families to buy for, a business to run (which is busy at this time of year), parties to find dresses for, meals to plan, cards to write (& post on time!), etc, etc.

I’m tired. But still incredibly excited.

So I’ll crack on, still haven’t finished my shopping or wrapping, and I don’t give a toss if they eat the deccies.

Hilariously, I've just tried to go and take a photo of the chocolate deccies for your viewing pleasure but they are nowhere to be seen. Mmmm.

Photo of the Day. Ed's Pirate Hat

We were asked to make pirate hats for a party his class will be having on friday, so I knocked this up and he drew his own Jolly Roger (cute!). I thought he'd want to decorate more, but no, he's happy with it like this (I can already feel my reputation as a 'crafty' mum going down the pan...but if he's happy I won't interfere).

Photo of the day. Advent Calendar

I made this advent calendar a few years ago, and every year we hang it up on the evening of the 30th so that Santa can send his elves to fill it for us. Unfortunately this year I completely forgot to get it out of the loft in time, so we had to write a special note to Santa to ask him to fill it a day late. The next day when they saw it, each pocket with two chocolates in, one for each boy, their little faces lit up and Ed exclaimed; "even the note has gone!" Toooo cute.
The usual "are you sure we've had our counting chocolate today?" has of course ensued, and a measly 2 days in, someone stole 2 chocolates, one from the 6th and one from the 14th. No-one will admit to it so the those pockets stand empty until someone does (I removed the leftovers from those days in the hope their love for each other might push them to be honest with me, since the one who didn't steal will be missing out. Probably a bit optimistic, they are only 3 and 4 after all. Worth a try though haha).

Photo of the day. Homemade Headresses

Wearing their headdresses, made by Bean at messy play. (Bean & I made one for Ed now that he has to go to school now-we'd hate for him to feel left out at all).

Photo of the day. Cold Day at the Zoo

a cold day at the zoo, pulling silly faces.

Photo of the day. Tip for Mum

Taken from the latest free Morrison's magazine.
It's so very true, I get so excited about Christmas & it can be so easy to get distracted their christmas lists, but every year we make their friends & classmates chocolate gifts, which they decorate & gift box. It's quite cheap, fun and with my collection of ice cubes trays we can make all sorts.
I'm so looking forward to doing it again in a few weeks.
We also make cards & decorations, so hopefully they won't just be focused on what they'll get out of it.
There'll be no spoilt little brats here! Haha

Photo of the day. Ed Playing the Uke

Ed playing my uke. I taught him two chords and how to strum today to save him bashing away at it.

Photo of the day. Tree Lighting Montage

This is a montage of Ed and I, and our trip to see the Christmas tree being lit at our local shopping centre last Thursday.

Photo of the day. Winter Berries

Winter berries in my garden

Ed's First Show & Tell

On Fridays Ed's class have show and tell. They only started doing it a few weeks ago, but I hadn't yet managed to help him sort anything for it.
I finally remembered at 7am last Friday morning.
Over half term, I found the time to note down some of Ed's crazy thoughts & we wrote a story together, inspired by a dream he had. Him & Bean drew the pictures, I printed it off & made it into a book for them. They were so proud of themselves.
So when I first heard they were starting show & tell at school, I really wanted him to take his story. But could I find it when I needed it? Nope. I ended up faffing with the computer, printing off a new one & putting together a book at 7:30am. I so don't have time for extra jobs in the morning, we barely get to school on time.
So I proudly sent him to school with his book & when we sat together after school I asked him how show & tell went. He pulled these items out of his pocket. Bloody hell. I didn't even know he had them. Oh, did I really let my son go to school with cotton buds in his pocket? Bit dodgy on the motherhood skills.
Anyway, while I tried to put aside how gutted I was about his story, I asked him how it went & to be fair to him, he gave the most detailed description of his items, why he likes them & what one can do with them, so I'm sure his teacher will be pleased with his wide vocabulary & world knowledge regardless of the danger factor of a 4 year old carrying these around all day.
So I'm still proud. But maybe he could do his book next week?
Bloody hope so after all the effort I put in.

Presumption & Advantage Taking

Yesterday, when I collected my 4 yr old son, Ed from school, the first thing he said to me was;
"Where's Jack's Mummy?"
I knew exactly what he was after.
Jack's Mummy has chocolate coins in her pockets for her kids when they get out of school (a practice I'm not sure how I feel about & will be discussed very soon).
Jack & Ed are good friends. They play together at school everyday, but with this friendship comes bickering and the occasional fisty cuff fight (in a 4 yr old-nice-boy-really way). They often end up in pointless fights over silly things, which we always work through. Thankfully (since I'm so new to this mummy vs school thing), Jack's Mummy is wonderfully approachable. In the beginning when Ed came home telling me Jack was hitting him, I could go to her and we solved the miscommunication the boys were having with no problems.
However, because of this occasional bickering, poor Jack's Mummy does seem to feel a bit guilty. She often shares her children's chocolate coins with mine, which is fine by me, I can often use it to my advantage & bribe them to get to the car/walk home nicely.
But, for Ed to presume that she will give him a coin everyday is definitely a step toooo far.
I know it's very easy to take advantage of other people, it's really easy to slip into presuming someone will help/provide/etc. I often have to berate myself for it. A lot of different people have helped me out in a lot of different ways, & I endeavour to remain grateful & courteous, forever. I do find it very difficult, because I seem to be by nature a particularly selfish and inward focused person, but I try really hard to never forget.
Just because someone has helped me out once in a while, doesn't mean that they will/should/can ever again. 
And I do not want to raise two boys who think they can presume to expect anything from another human being. I want them to be independant, but to be able to accept help graciously. Having friends you can fall on in times of need and whom you can be there for when they need you is one of the joys of life. I guess it's about finding a good balance.

Ed never got his chocolate yesterday. I had told him he could have one out of my secret stash (because bribery works) if he walked to the car nicely, but then he ran into the road without holding my hand & therefore lost it. Silly boy.

Any thoughts?

Hand Crafted Bracelet

I just had to tell you about my new bracelet.

A friend of mine, Sarah, runs a jewellery making business from home, in her spare time. All the things she makes are beautiful and delicate, just like her. It's funny isn't it how everyone we do reflects us so truly. I have another friend who makes jewellery and her pieces are so different, they are much bolder, brighter & bigger, statement pieces, just like her. I love Sarah's jewellery, they are all very easy to wear on a daily basis, and she's very open to commissions, which is what this bracelet is. She let me have a good old root through her charm box so I could choose the ones that mean the most to me. And in a few days she'd rustled up this beauty. I paid £8, she wanted less, but too much work has gone into this for mates rates, and I think we should look after our cottage industries.
Please do check out her website, she really is fabulous and affordable.
www.indijewellery.co.uk
www.facebook.com/IndiJewellery 

Thought I should add the reasons behind my choice in charms.
Strawberry - obvious if you've read the 1st blog entry.
C - my initial.
Leaf - I love the outdoors & plants. A lot of my childhood was spent camping in fields playing on rope swings.
Cocktail glass - I like the occasional drinkypoos.
Wing - I love animals, in particular I love birds and I'm completely intriged by bird flight.
Bird house - I'm a very homely loving girl, I enjoy my creature comforts and the quaint things in life.
Flower - who doesn't love flowers?
Key - I have a memory, incomplete but strong of a pair of school shoes I had when I was small, which had a key in the sole. Since then, I have always loved keys, the old deadlock type, just like this one.

Small Town Living

One of the things I've noticed since starting the whole school run thing every day is that so many people are related to each other. 

Is it just me that finds this weird?

My eldest son has a 'buddy', which is a boy in year 5 I believe, who comes over to reception occasionally. To be honest I couldn’t tell you exactly what the buddy's role is, but it’s something along the lines of providing the reception class with older children who can show them around the school, help them, be someone they can go to with issues like bullying, help them with their learning, etc etc. 

Anyhoo, on the way to and from school, we quite often have a child walk past us whispering to his mum that my son is his cousin/brother/friends cousin’s buddy. This happens so often, and by so many different children I’m beginning to be a bit freaked out. I'm just waiting for one of them to say it’s his uncle brother’s stepson’s buddy...which could totally happen in this town.

Having thought about it, I know why it freaks me out. My family is spread out all over the UK & I only have a few family members in this town. Everyone in my family either went to Uni or joined the forces, met someone and moved elsewhere. Only a few didn’t.  I have further opinions on this but they are just plain bitchy and ill-informed so I shall jolly well keep them to myself.
What about you? Do you find your relatives are flung far and wide? Do you live in the town you were born and bred in?