Telling the Truth About the Tooth Fairy

Over the Summer, Bean lost a front tooth. Cue the obvious visit by the tooth fairy.

The next day, he called me for a private conversation, away from his brother’s prying ears.

I had no idea what it was going to be about.

With a coy smile, he asked me who the tooth fairy was.

A little taken aback, I asked him who he thought it was.

He immediately replied; “You!”

I thought about continuing the lie, but as promised (mostly to Mr. Strawberry) I resigned to tell him the truth. We always said, in those ‘how will we parent our children’ discussions, we would go along with the fun and games of Christmas and tooth fairies and all that palaver until they asked with straight faces.

“But it’s a fun story don’t you think?” I asked in reply.

We then chatted about how sometimes it’s nice to believe in stories and how boring life would be without stories and imagination.

I’ve written about this before, so it’s obviously something that is close to my heart. I love all things fantastical and my life would be genuinely awful without my nightly escape into someone else’s world when I tuck myself into bed with a book. Everything I said in this blog post, only a year ago, I still stand by. I didn’t tell Ed the truth that day because I knew he wasn’t ready, but Bean obviously was this time. He has lost teeth since and has put them under his pillow with gusto, so my truth telling clearly hasn’t destroyed his childhood.

My worry is, as we head into December, Timmy Twinkles will of course be returning and I can only hope he gets a good reception….

A Boy or a Girl...Who knows?

I am so torn.

When we were expecting the boys, we found out what we were having as soon as we could, and luckily so because I was convinced Ed was a girl and called him Beth for 5 months. I cried when I found out and I’m glad I had the adjustment time before he arrived, rather than going through 9 months of thinking I was getting the girl I dreamed of and trying to deal with not only a newborn baby but a newborn baby boy.

With Bean, it was important to find out because, being just 16 months apart, I needed to know if I could re-use Ed’s stuff and I was super happy to get another beautiful boy.

Now things are very different.

There are no hand-me-downs.

I honestly don’t care what we get. Now that I’ve hung around with kids a little more I can see the pros and cons of both genders. They both come with joys and difficulties of their own. Boys tend to be noisier whilst girls tend to be talkative, boys tend to have a lot of energy but girls seem to come with a lot of drama.
So, when we found out we were expecting, we originally said we wouldn't find out what it was. Let it be nature's best surprise we thought. But it turns out to be one of the most frustrating withheld truths known to man.

I absolutely love surprises. I am not the person shaking the presents under the Christmas tree. Even when I help my computer illiterate husband to order my present online, I cover the screen until the payment has cleared and I can close the page (I get very annoyed if I fail and accidentally see what it is). And in preparation for our last wedding anniversary a few months ago, I refused to help him order me something and therefore got the basic flowers and chocolates. If it wasn’t going to be a surprise, I didn’t want anything.

But growing a human inside me feels different.

I’d love to have that moment when I’ve given birth and my husband hands me our baby and tells me himself if it’s a boy or a girl.

But I am already sick of calling our beloved growing fetus ‘it’. I've named it Pixel so I can avoid this a little.

Trying to find a unisex pushchair I like is becoming a nightmare.

Everything I want to buy in preparation is so gender orientated these days, even washable nappies come in delightful bright prints, leaving me with the choice of white or…white. And try buying a snowsuit, the gender neutral ones are genuinely disgustingly beige.

Knowing what it is might help us all bond with the unborn baby, especially the boys who are basically dealing with the abstract at the moment. There isn’t even a decent bump for them to stroke. The other night, as we all sat on the sofa digesting our dinner, I suddenly yelped and the boys were very surprised to hear me tell them I could feel the baby wriggling. I was especially surprised because with them I hadn’t felt anything until I was about 17 weeks so I wasn’t expecting to feel anything at all at just 14 weeks. The first thing Ed said was;

“I thought it was a lie baby. That means it’s almost complete!”

I guess dealing with an abstract idea, one without any actual proof, is not his strong point and I wonder if telling him whether it’s a boy or girl would help him. Otherwise, he’s in for one hell of a shock.

As much as having a girl terrifies me (they turn into teenage girls you know), I don’t honestly know how sad I’ll be at the thought of having a house full of children and no tutus.

Chatting with a friend last week, she described having baby girl after having a boy as the opening of a new door, and she’s right. I’ve always had the girl door closed on me. How sad will I be to find out it’s always going to be closed? (no. 3 is the last baby we’ll have, it is a car full after all) Will I be better off finding out sooner rather than later? Will it matter at all?

Another part of me doesn’t want to find out just so, if I am having a girl, I’m not swamped in that delightful shade of baby pink. I do so love green, teal, turquoise and yellow.

A friend of mine posted this on my Facebook wall and it made me think, even if I did have a girl, this is probably the kind of girl I’d end up raising anyway, especially with two, superhero obsessed big brothers.

I also love this.

In fact, I already have the cutest skeleton babygrow stashed away in Pixel’s drawers.

According to this, odds are still 50/50 ish regardless of the fact that so far, I’ve only managed to make boys. My chances of having a girl have only fallen 2% after having two boys, so we'll just have to see. We may find out in just over a month, or we may not. Or we might find out and only tell the boys. I just don't know. We've got  month to decide.

He Threatened to Punch Me...He Couldn't Help it.

When Mr. Strawberry and I started spending the night together, he gave me a warning;

“I might punch you in the face when I’m asleep”

Sure you will, I replied, I’d like to see you try.

It didn’t take long for me to realise what made him think he might but it was an exaggeration of the truth and almost ten years later, I can honesty say he has never punched me.

He’s not 100% sure what happens at night, and personally I think his mean ex was the person who hyped it up in his head and told him he’d punched her. I personally don’t trust her opinion but in my experience, although we tend to sleep bottom to bottom so his fists are nowhere near me anyway, it’s more of a judder than a lashing out, so I don’t see how that could have happened. Sometimes his legs jolt, but even they’ve never kicked me.

It turns out Mr. Strawberry suffers from a mild case of sleep myoclonus, which means that as he drifts off every night, he has involuntary twitches, particularly in his arms and legs. The only pattern I’ve been able to notice is that the more stressed he is in his day to day life, the more violent the twitching and this can delay his sleep transition. A really strong judder will wake him up so the poor bloke has to start all over again in trying to get to sleep.

I’ve also noticed is that if I gently stroke him, he never judders. Unfortunately, although I am sometimes the last person to fall asleep, I can’t seem to do it until he’s actually in deep sleep, my arm gets tired or I enter the deeper doze state of falling asleep.

After doing some research, I think most of us suffer with some form of myoclonus without even noticing. Hiccups are the most common type but also that feeling of when you are just falling asleep and you feel like you ‘catch’ yourself, often from a brief falling dream and jolt yourself awake.

Myoclonus is a symptom not a diagnosis and can be related to more serious issues, but because he is healthy and has no other symptoms, I honestly don’t think its anything to worry about, except that maybe he should take it easier and relax more but you try telling him that. Mild sleep myoclonus, which only happens during the sleep transition stage is very common and from what I’ve read, often unexplainable.

So, it looks like I’ll have to put up with it. My only real complaint is that I can’t cuddle him because his jolts stop me from settling. If it gets worse, affects him during the day or starts happening at other times, I’ll whip him off to the doctors.

Sleep well my dearies x

Information sources;

http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/myoclonus/detail_myoclonus.htm

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myoclonus

http://sleep.lovetoknow.com/Twitching_While_Sleeping

http://www.enkivillage.com/body-tremors-at-night.html

http://www.sleepdex.org/myoclonus.htm

Baby Panic

I started writing this when I was two months pregnant but didn’t publish as we hadn’t announced it.

I’m having a panic.

A friend from Uni recently had a baby, and therefore her Facebook posts are full of her beautiful baby and super cheerful notes on how happy she is and how lucky she feels.

Me however, I’m mid panic.

I know what its like to have a baby. I know the mind numbing monotony of feeding, wiping, dressing, washing, desperately trying to squeeze in a nap, trying to make it out the house for it to only end in tears. I know how it feels to have not had any where near enough sleep, to have someone else entirely reliant on you.

And yet here she is, always so positive. I want to message her asking if she really is that positive all the time. I wrote the message in my head and then realized, I really didn’t want her to admit to feeling a little blue. I really didn’t care to have my bubble of her and her joy burst.

I also remember those moments when you look at your baby’s face and think, bloody hell you’re beautiful. I still have those moments now, even though they’re not cute little squishy things anymore, they’re strong and muscular growing boys. And although their temper tantrums are more destructive than when they were in nappies, their hugs are fiercer too.

It may just be crazy hormones, but sometimes I think ‘what the hell have I done?’, but more often I cry with sheer happiness that finally the baby have talked about for years is here, growing well and will be with us in no time at all. The idea of watching this little human grow up and become even half the person the boys have become is absolute bliss.

It’s going to be messy, noisy and sleep deprived, but it’s also going to be full of sloppy kisses and giggling, because if nothing else, the shit the kids get up to makes me laugh until my belly hurts.

I can’t wait.

Silent Sunday

Knicker Flashing

Okay, so I don’t have any little girls, but if I did, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t flash their knickers in public.

When I pick the boys up from school, their teacher sends them to me, but after a brief hello they go straight to the trim trail in the playground and climb on it until I insist that actually, I’d really like to go home now, if only to feed them.

Boys and girls from both infants and juniors do the same, and there’s always some knicker flashing involved.

A friend of mine, when I expressed these concerns, told me she didn’t think it was any different from wearing a bikini, or playing on a beach in your pants. But I can’t help but think it’s about appropriateness. You wouldn’t let your kid go to school in a swimming costume would you? The only places you can go out in a bikini yourself is on holiday or those stupidly hot days, but it wouldn’t be round the Birmingham Bullring, it’d be round some tourist coastal town. And even prudish me has let the boys play in a local park paddling pool in just their pants on an unexpectedly roasting day.

My lovely friend also made a very sensible point that these days, kids are over sexualized. And she’s right of course, but for me it’s more about equality. There aren’t any boys flashing their pants, and why is that? Oh, it’s because they don’t have to wear a stupid skirt. In shorts or trousers, they are free to climb and jump and hang upside down without flashing their pants. Bellies maybe but not pants. Some of the older girls wear shorts under their skirts and that’s super, that’s how I spent my teenage-hood (there was a fair amount of skirt lifting when I was at school so shorts were the only way to go).

It’s not that I’m offended by the sight of underwear, I just feel bad for the girls. I would never let my boys flash their pants outside the house. I guess some parents of girls just don’t feel it’s an issue. Girls like to do handstands, cartwheels and dangle from the climbing bars too, and no-one should be stopping them. Maybe parents of girls just don’t get time to think in between frozen sing-a-longs, dance/martial arts class and the usual “Mummy, watch me, I made a dance up, watch me Mummy!” They should be applauded regardless because it must be a hell of a job. My memories of being one myself and watching my baby sister grow up tell me its a fuck load of drama.

I’ll be honest, if you come to my house, expect to see naked boys. I insist on underwear if we have a guest (even if it’s my sister) and clothes if it’s someone we don’t know very well (like when a SafeStyle salesman came to give us a quote).

But while only wearing underwear, they know only too well they aren’t to play in the windows or come to the door. I’m protective over their man bits because someone should be until their old enough to take charge.

And, just so you all know, I wouldn’t have a problem if my boys wear skirts if they wanted to, but I’d probably insist on a little pair of shorts underneath.

What do you think?

Raising a Big, Boisterous Boy.

Its 5am. 

I’m snuggling up to the cheeky 6 year old who has snuck into the parental bed again when I realize his feet are resting on my shins. 

When did my youngest get so huge?

Bean is growing at a phenomenal rate. Yes, I know, everyone says that about their children but Bean is something else I’m sure of it. His 7 year old brother is perfectly average, if not a little rounder in the bottom than most kids his age (presumably due to his annoyingly restricted diet). However Bean’s body, being 17 months younger, seems to have decided this growing up thing is in fact a race. 

At first clothes buying was easy, I’d buy a bunch of clothes and Ed would grow out of them just in time for Bean to grow into them.

There was a seasonal issue, in that Bean was wearing Ed's Summer clothes in Winter so his wardrobe would have to topped up with a few extra jumpers and jeans, but other than that it was brilliant.

This photo was my first clue. At just 3, Bean (left) was looking bigger than Ed (right) who was 4 and a half. I took a few of these photos, thinking the angle was all wrong and being confused by what I kept seeing on my camera display.

The hand-me-downs went on until we reached 4-5 years clothes, when there was a hefty overlap. By size 5-6 they were in the same size, making clothes buying literally twice as expensive. Thankfully by this age they were actually wearing the clothes out, rather than growing out of them before they got even the tiniest bit scuffed. I couldn’t have made Bean wear holey hand-me-downs anyway, so it didn’t matter so much.

Now they are both in 7-8 years clothes, despite the fact that they are in fact 6 & 7. The clothes that are tight on Bean, fit Ed perfectly, so the hand-me-downs are now going in the opposite direction.

My ‘little’ brother is built like a brick shit house, so it looks like Bean has ended up with a load of his genes which is odd because I thought he got his general hugeness from my step-dad…but they do look very similar both in appearance and mannerisms. I’d show you photos but my brother literally will not allow anyone to take a picture of him.

I started to see some actual problems when a house guest moved in. We have a two year old boy staying with us at the moment, and of course my boys love him to pieces but I keep catching Bean, in his usual over-excitedness, being a bit of a bully. I can’t accept bullying in my house, so I have had to spend some time explaining to him that he needs to be aware of what his body is doing and how it might feel to someone half his size.

I personally think, however young a child is, they should be allowed to express their own opinion on who invades their personal space and what happens to their body. It is their body after all and I think they should be encouraged to be confident enough to say no. Except if they have a really stinky nappy of course. Or teeth brushing issues. Actually anything personal hygiene related. That stuff just needs shoving into their daily routine.

Unfortunately for Bean, as well as being huge he is also extra (definitely more than usual) boisterous. He’s heavy handed, clumsy and playful.

So I asked him, if I backed him into a corner, even just to tickle him, would he not be intimidated as I towered over him? Yes he replied.

I’ve tried to explain to him, that as a big boy, bigger than most of his class (as his recent class photo shows), he needs to be extra careful. He needs to be aware of his body, where it is and what it’s doing to ensure not only the safety of other children but also their feelings too.

It’s perfectly possible I’m thinking about this too much, and it’s also possible he’ll plateau at some point and everyone else will catch up. Or he’ll end up like my brother, and 11lb baby who turned into a giant 22 year old.

Hopefully I’ll manage to raise a gentle giant rather than a boisterous beast of a man. Thankfully he has a heart of gold buried in that wide chest so it shouldn’t be too difficult.

I’ll continue to praise his kind acts, his sweet affection and remind him to be kind when I need to.

I am so looking forward to seeing the man he’ll become in a few short years.

Good luck raising yours too my lovelies xxx

Smash Dude; Friend or Foe?

A few years ago I downloaded the game 'Smash Dude' on my phone, but it didn't last long before I deleted it. Sold as "hilarious stress relief", I decided I couldn't justify peppering a chained up guy with bullets as stress relief. I mean, he's chained up! And what did he ever do wrong anyway? What could have justified this?

The boys, who have inherited our old phones, have unfortunately found this game in my iCloud.

At first I was cross, but they both gave a rather persuasive argument about him not being real and therefore feels no pain. I think it's super mature of them to be able to define fiction from non-fiction. The ability to do so will certainly help them when they delve into the abyss which is teenager computer games and help stop them from being the kind of people who take one of those 'shoot 'em up' games too seriously.

Ed also gave me the argument that he's chained up so he must be a prisoner, but I simply explained that we don't treat prisoners like that.

My kids like to break stuff. I'm not going to say it's because they're boys, because I'm morally against sentences like that. Girls like to break stuff too. Look at the fun I had only three weeks ago breaking down a wall in my house.

You smash a brick with the lump hammer until the mortar cracks, then you take it out and start on the next brick. Now, that's my kind of stress relief!

They play together, which is always nice. Side by side they compare weapons and destruction. They collect coins to save up and buy more weapons.

But the holes in their argument crack when they figure out they can make him laugh hysterically by tickling him with a feather. They've also found they can smother him with kisses.

Taking some rest bite from Smash Due to watch a story book.

It has 2,448 reviews with an average of four stars. Most of the reviews imply it's a lot of silly fun, some of the lower ratings are actually from people who want more weapons and better sound effects rather than those who are simple disgusted.

It used to be rated 12, but it's now 17 years and over, so I presume Firezoo (the game creators) listened to complaints and raised it, but it doesn't really make that much difference.

Here are some of the reviews;

Torturing a dummy for fun? Outrageous!

I found my kid playing this game and I'm shocked. I think it's outrageous that this type of game even exists. Hitting, burning, electrocuting a human shaped dummy with a sad face is sickening. This game shouldn't exist because it encourages bullying and gives ideas of things to do just for fun. Horrible. It should be banned.

mari.rivers 30/12/13

Great but you should be able to put a face on him from a photo.

smurf159 3/9/13

I think of my bully I can't hit him but I can go on this app and imagine it's him and kill him.

hariv1 24/3/15

I broke his head off both his arms off and both his legs off :D best game ever.

epic lords 20/7/13

This is massively messed up! Whether or not 'sack dude' is real or not is irrelevant. This app encourages you to gain entertainment and pleasure from torturing a chained character. I don't see the need for this app and actually think is should be banned.

kcb-24 20/4/12

I've also discovered that Smash Dude has his own Twitter account, where not only does he advertise Firezoo's new games, he also reminds us that he can take it and he actually kinda likes it. Mmmmm...weird.

I think the boys like this app simply because they have control over cause and effect, in the same way they love the talking robot who copies what they say (mostly the word bottom!). They love collecting the coins to buy new stuff and they particularly like the lightening bolts, which I can kind of understand because it looks great. While the little wooden guy remains inanimate, I'm not too worried. Especially when they flit between that and Minecraft, then back onto cute story books.

I'll keep an eye on it. Mr Strawberry doesn't like it at all so they may just find it gone one morning and strict parental controls installed on their devices.

A friend pointed out that simply deleting it is a waste of an opportunity, especially since they can't pretend them haven't seen it. It would probably be better to use it as a chance to talk about our personal choices as to whether or not we are kind or mean. You can cover him in kisses, plasters and tickle him. Or you can shot the hell out of him.

What do you think? Should I stop being such a prude or do you think it's damaging?

Colourful paintballing and kisses.

The lightening is very pretty.

Or you can just throw snowballs.

Raising Girls Must be Easy

Girls have it so easy.

They get their choice of colours, hobbies and a massive array of clothing.

Clothes shopping for boys is rubbish. As a Mum of two boys, we have one section, hidden amongst rows and rows of girls clothes and accessories, and even then it's mostly dull trousers shrouded by overpriced marvel t-shirts.

Once again my five year old, Bean, has been in my closet and helped himself to my perfume because Mia (at school) is allowed to wear perfume and she apparently she smells nice. When I asked him how many sprays he had used, he admitted to five, maybe six. I feel like my overloaded nose might explode, but I can't really be angry with him.

We made him his own using essential oils. He chose a rather fruity, citrus smell, which he can over spray to his heart's content, though he is learning quickly that two will do.
In case you're intrigued; we made the perfume using a few drops of essential oils we simply liked the smell of added to 10ml almond oil, give it a shake, add 5ml glycerin and 5ml vodka, shake again then add cooled boiled water. Shake before use.

Whenever I take a few moments to put some nail varnish on, the always insist on having some too, so I let them wear it on their toes because I can't send them to school with it on their fingers; not because they're boys, but because I think it's against school uniform rules (ever the avid rule follower and I still haven't ever used nail varnish remover on their little delicate fingers). In the school holidays they can have it where ever they want. I just know even if it isn't against school rules, the teachers may pull them up on it anyway and I don't want them to be embarrassed, especially if it happened in front of the whole class. How can I explain to a five year old that some people think boys shouldn't wear nail varnish?

Last Christmas, Bean asked for a kitten. I wasn't going to invest in a real live cat as we already have a rather nervous dog who would not take well to an intruder, so I got him a toy kitten which purrs and everything. Of course it was from the girlie aisle in the toy store. And it had a little pink bow on it's head. My terrified husband, being the 'man's man' he is, requested I snip it off, but I forgot. Bean didn't notice the bow. He was only cross that it wasn't real.

A week or so ago, Bean was sad because a class mate had told him he couldn't go to Ashleigh's birthday party because she's having girlie pamper party. Little do these Mum's realise just how much he would've enjoyed it and how ostracised he felt being left out.

When chatting to some friends about this, one of them had a similar issue with a party her son wasn't invited to for the same reason but it just turned out to be a crafty party which her little guy would've have really enjoyed.

At this young age, I think they should have more freedom do to whatever they want to, wear what ever they want to. Let them learn who they want to be before piling on the social restraints of 'being a man'.

Ed, my seven year old, is very literally minded and likes to put things into boxes in his head. I haven't told him 'pink is for girls' but I guess the kids at school have because that's what he believes.
I find myself constantly reminding both my boys that there's no sensible reason to turn down everything pink or purple, letting girls have all the choice, leaving themselves two colours short. I tend to buy our plastic crockery in multi-coloured packs, so if nothing else it means the pink bowls get used rather than disregarded because (apparently) they're too girlie.

I used to clean a preschool for a few hours every day and sometimes, the boys would come with me. Ed would usually play Minecraft on his device but Bean would often reach for the giant Barbie house and spend his time dressing the dolls. He got a lot of joy out of it and I loved watching him but why did it feel like he was going against some kind of grain? 

Why did it feel so unusual?

Yes, he put Ken in a dress.

After doing a spot of internet research, I've come to the conclusion that I just don't give a damn.
The world can be cruel and kids can be truly horrid, I can't protect either of them from that. All I can do is provide them with a safe place where they can grow into whoever they want to be and ensure they know they can always come to me.
During my research, I came across a comment by someone whose parents were not supportive of her preferences. They told her she'd be picked on for her love of Star Trek, that it was too geeky, so when she was bullied at school, she found it difficult to stand up for herself simply because without her parents loving support, she presumed they were probably right. That's awful! 
I would much rather be the parent who says, yes, you might get picked on for your pink nail varnish but screw them! You do want you want, you're an amazing human being. I love you, your friends love you and some people can just be really small minded. They're wrong, not you. You are the only you....I could go on.

Don't worry, I'm not naive enough to presume girls don't have their own issues regarding gender, it just seems to me that its more acceptable for a girl to be a tom boy than for a boy to be girlie sometimes. This issue has a lot more facets to it than I can put into sentences, this is simply how it effects us day to day.

My main concern is raising two well-rounded boys, who won't judge other people for their own choices, who will ignore the opinions of bigoted idiots and be happy in their own sense of self.
Doing so without pushing them into gender opposing ideas is a fine line, but how will we ever be truly equal if there is a standard disregard for 'girlie' things by our little boys? If we let our little boys turn down nail varnish, or even bright clothing because 'it's for girls', how can we stop little boys saying football is only for boys?
If a boy is ridiculed for wanting to be a nurse or a carer, how will a girl feel when she goes for the CEO job?
Gender equality has to work both ways, but at the same time I won't be pushing my boys into donning the pink nail varnish. I'll let them do what they want, even if it is influenced by whatever the kids at school are saying. As a society, I think we've come a very long way in a short amount of time and we've become a lot more accepting of people and their life choices. Rather than pushing (and consequently making life difficult for my boys), I think I'd be better off letting it carry on evolving for the better. I'm pretty certain by the time Bean is in High School, people's attitude will be even further improved and if his preference for dressing well (and in the brightest colours he can find)........oh no.....I have to interrupt my sentence here because everything I'm thinking is a stereotype and I should know better than that. I'll put it this way; if Bean, or Ed for that matter, grows up and finds he prefers boys, he will know he is loved and I'm sure his school friends, whoever they may be, will support him in his choices.
Well, I hope so anyway.

Anyway, back to the subject of gender fluidity (yes, boys liking girlie things (the girls liking boy things) has been given a name), a few months ago, while watching David Walliams kiss Orlando Bloom on Comic Relief night, Bean exclaimed "I've never seen two boys kissing!" as though it was weird. 
I immediately replied with "Dude, you watched your Uncle marry a bloke only last Summer!" 
Cue a long conversation/rant about how love is love and it doesn't matter who you fall in love with.
Unfortunately, mid rant, it's difficult to get the balance right between ensuring my children know I'll accept them whoever they become and pushing what might be unnatural for them. I don't want to add to the confusion of teenhood. I don't want them to question who they are just because I gave them too many choices. Oh, it's so complicated and I'm concerned I'm saying this all wrong. 
All I want is for them to be happy. That's all.
And maybe I'll let them wear nail varnish on their fingers, it probably wouldn't do any harm to break a small rule every now and then...
I shall promise to worry less about what other people might think, trust my children to stick up for themselves and maybe not over think every little thing ;)

Short Story - The Adventures of a Garden Spider.

Inspired by a short story I heard last week and an actual event which happened to my little boy last Summer. I may have written it in my head at 4am...it's a little random but I hope it gives you a little joy.

My home was the safest, most beautiful place I’d ever found.

I’d been there for years.

Tucked away in the corner, at the end of a long, thin garden, where the ivy and the hawthorn had grown so thick and so dense that even the smallest of birds had trouble getting inside and therefore my carefully laid plans were left uninterrupted. There was plenty of food milling around too so I never needed to leave my safe abode.

There was also a dog who lived in the garden, a nervous little thing who barked at everything, especially the birds, which kept them away from my area so I didn’t mind her noise at all. They stuck to the safety of the tall trees along the side of the garden, where they were free to nest in peace.

It was perfect.

That was, until the noises changed.

The old dog was gone.

The elderly couple no longer sat on their green, wooden bench near the back door.

A new family must have moved as there was lots of hustle and bustle. The house smelt different when the back door opened.

Everything was changing; the tall trees along the side were chopped down, making my dark corner annoyingly brighter. The birds, at a loss, attempted to nest in my home, but to no avail, thank goodness! So, they went elsewhere and everything was quieter for a little while.

One day a huge wooden shed was erected right next to my home, and it was great because made my little corner even darker and more sheltered than ever before. There was more food and more dark corners to hide in. I thought things couldn’t get any better, but I never considered they’d get much, much worse.

All of a sudden everything changed.

There was noise underneath me, the ground was being cleared. Then great big chunks of my home were being removed. As the human grabbed a handful of ivy, so intertwined it was with the hawthorn, each ivy tendril clinging on to the thorny hawthorn branches around it, it tore huge holes in my domain. Light poured in and my favourite hunting spots were vanishing quickly. I tried not to panic, but kept on the move, trying to stay out of sight.

There were more humans now, smaller ones, presumably their young. They move faster and with a lot more noise.

They stopped removing my precious home, leaving what was left of the overgrowth to create some kind of roof over what they called their new den.

Except it wasn’t their den. It was my home.

I kept moving, trying to find a quiet spot out of sight. But they were everywhere.

Without any warning, a small boy brushed past me, knocking me off the branch. I fell into a strange, dark place. It was warm and so unlike home, but I couldn’t work out where on earth I was.

Hours past.

I felt the sun go down.

The place I was in kept moving, like the walls couldn’t keep still. I had to roll up as small as I could to avoid losing a leg. I had to try to predict where the next gap would be as another set of walls closed in on me. And the heat, I’d never known anything like it. Not even the brightest sunshine of the hottest British Summer day was ever this hot.

“I’ve got an itch” I heard someone say.

Suddenly, everywhere was flooded with light, I couldn’t see for a moment but I could hear the screams.

I felt myself drop to the floor, the moving walls gone; I was surrounded by nothing but air. I stretched out my tired legs just in time to see a large glass land perfectly over the top of me. Pulling my legs in and adjusting them as a piece of paper slid between the glass and the floor, trapping me inside.

The humans were still very noisy, and now they were peering at me in shock through the glass.

“You had that in your pants all afternoon?” yelled a woman.

“It’s huge! How did you not notice that?”

I felt movement, heard a window open, then suddenly the paper was gone and I was falling through the open air.

It was a long way down, but I landed with a soft thud on the grass below and welcomed the darkness of the night, the fresh air and the freedom to finally go and find myself a new home.

Maybe one of these sheds will do…

Silent Sunday

Happy Mother's Day to You All

In the spirit of supporting women of all kinds, at all different stages of their lives, amid their own decisions and life choices, I wanted to say Happy Mother's day to you all, whether you are a mother or not (in the literal sense).

To all the Mummy's who are expecting, I'm so excited for you! Your life is about to change dramatically and although things probably won't work out how you envisaged it (sorry to say), it will be a lot of fun.

To all the women who have fought against infertility and miscarriages, and all the poking and prodding that goes along with that, my heart goes out to you.

To all the Mummy's who have a newborn, I know its arduous. The constant feeding and wiping can get really dull, but trust me it's worth it and it'll be over before you know it (and certainly before you're ready for it to be).

To all the women who have been through abortion or putting children up for adoption, I respect your personal decisions. You've made some tough choices and I'm sorry things have been hard for you.

To all the Mummy's with young children, it's chaotic and messy, but enjoy their silliness, honest cuddles and sloppy kisses.

To all the Mums who have lost a child, I'm truly sorry. There aren't words...

To all the Mums of teens and pre-teens, though I haven't been through that stage with my own, I remember being one myself and I know it's a minefield, but I'm certain you're doing a fabulous job amid the tantrums and strange smells.

To all the Mums whose children are leaving the family nest, I hope you are enjoying your new found space and freedom, despite how horribly empty your house might feel. you've got through the big part of your job, now it's time to get on with your own stuff and wait for the phone calls...

To all the women who are still waiting for their lives to take the baby turn, give it time.

To all the women who've lost their own Mum, my heart goes out to you.

To all the women who are surrounded by 'non-biological' children, you're awesome! 
Whether you're an Auntie, a foster Mum or a second Mom to your best friend's kids, you enrich their lives.

And finally, to all the women who've chosen not to have children of their own but keep a watchful and loving eye over their family and friends, I respect your decisions and I hope you don't let anyone tell you your life is in any way incomplete or wasted just because you chose not to reproduce.

My Mother's Day Cards

Yay! Thanks to school I have Mothers day cards I didn't help make myself. 

I love little surprises and use any opportunity I can to let people keep secrets (the nice kind) from me at Christmas, on my birthday, Valentine's day and Mother's day.

I knew they must have making them because on Wednesday Bean had paint all over his sleeve and when I asked about it he replied;

"Mother's day cards". 

Ooops Bean, don't think you were supposed to tell me that...

So, on Friday, Ed, who is very precious about his surprises and hates them to be ruined in any way, came out of school with something stuffed inside his coat. We walked to the car as he gave Bean and I strict instructions to go straight into the kitchen when we got home. However, he must have got overexcited and when we got home, before we'd even walked through the door he asked me if I wanted it early, then gave it to me before I had a chance to answer.

Now, I'll be honest, Ed spends a fair amount of time telling me I don't love him, and he's written me notes that say something along the lines of; 

"I love you but I don't think you love me" 

So I had expected his card to be full of: 

"You don't love me, you've never even liked me, you're an asshole"

Instead, I got this...

Translation; Dear Mum, Happy Mother's Day. I love you lots, from Ed.

Bean's card was stashed in his homework bag, and when given permission to remove it, I found this.

I seriously never expected this.

When I asked for a translation of '1psent min' I literally laughed out loud and asked why on earth he'd put that. Bean is always so loving and sweet, it was a surprise to see this written in his beautifully hand-painted card. 

Apparently, it's very simple. 

The morning he wrote his card out at school was the morning I wouldn't let him have crisps for breakfast.

Mommy, you are 1 percent mean, from Henry
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Now I don't need flowers or chocolates, instead I have two little boys who I know will never hold back and always be honest about their feelings, however, Ed decided it was inappropriate to write something mean in his card, which I think is an excellent notion to have at just seven. 

What great kids I have. I'm one lucky Mummy.

But Martin! Workbook: Free Printable

I made this for my boys after reading But Martin! to them at bedtime.

I've always loved this book, I remember my Mummy reading it to me when I was little.

Feel free to print it off for your little ones too 

(just right-click on each photo, save as a j-peg file & print).

Let me know what you think of it x

Supermarket Zoo Day: Kid's project with Free Printables

Available here

Ed & Bean love this book, although to be honest I'm not it's biggest fan and often leave Daddy to read it if they choose it (haha). Reading it aloud requires far too much fake enthusiasm which I just can't muster having read it quite a few times now. There are books I'll never run out of beans for, but this just isn't one of them. But that's just my humble opinion and it certainly doesn't effect the boys excitement for it.

So I spent last night sorting out some print outs for them. I found these great printables online and put these together;

stickers 1

stickers 2

stickers 3

Please feel free to use these, simply right click, save & print them off A4 size, cut them out and stick them onto a trolley/shopping basket of your own. I made extra stickers and other animals for them to play with.  

shopping list

word mat

So, armed with the shopping list I photocopied out of the story book, the boys glued the right amount of animals onto the trolley (I had a proud Mummy moment with Ed as he counted down how many monkeys we needed, for example, when we had 4, he said we needed 2 more without even thinking about it, etc, etc).

When they were done with that, I gave them their own shopping trolleys, shopping lists and the other printables to do with as they chose. They stuck the left over stickers onto their trolleys and shopping lists, choosing which animals they would like to buy if they could.

The bags and boxes were a much bigger hit than I had predicted, Ed drew some lovely tins and stuff. He drew a shelf full of "baby Christmas trees for people to take home, water and care for them", and another shelf of other kinds of plants. He must be plant focused at the moment because he has been helping me with my salad growing. 
Even Bean 'drew' some hoops (their favourite breakfast cereal) on a box.

Our display. Once again I've ran out of pockets :/

This impressed me no end.
I don't push Ed into 'writing practise' or anything, but I'm always on the lookout for moments when he's happy to have a go at anything and help in any way I can. I printed off these price stickers for them to decide how to use, and Ed immediately attempted to write a number in each box. His first attempt was actually thwarted by a bump from Bean and a hissy fit, so I printed another sheet off and left it on the table. Later on, he had another go. The numbers he was unsure of, he asked me about and I provided him with a laminate sheet I did ages ago with 1-100. Awesome.

The images I've used for these printables are not mine but I ask for nothing in return, only that you have lots of fun with your small people.