Returning to the UK and a decision to Home Educate.

On the move again...

Half way through our recent trip back to the UK, it became apparent that, for various reasons, a move back there earlier than we had originally planned was on the cards.  Having spent the first half of the holiday crying because we didn’t live in the UK, I then spent the second half crying because we were going to leave Australia.  Ok, so that’s a bit of an exaggeration because mainly we just had a lovely lovely time, but tears had been shed both before and after the discovery.

We will be sad to leave Australia,  of course we will; we have many lovely friends here and the lifestyle is just fabulous.  The school that the kids attend is amazing.  We’ve had a wonderful time.  However, we are actually very much looking forward to moving back to the UK too.  It will be so nice to be close to family and old friends again.  I’m also looking forward to a countryside that doesn’t try to kill us every time we step foot in it! So come mid-January, we will be winging our way back to the UK.

Dolly

We are taking Dolly the puppy back with us.  It’s very straight forward to get her back to the UK and, once we’re there, Digby Dog will re-join us.  Flo (our other dog), has settled so well in the company of my niece that it doesn’t seem fair on either of them to separate them, so she will stay put at my sister’s.  As the Aussies would say, “Too Easy”.

On to the second part of this essay!  We have taken the decision that I will Home Educate the children in the UK.  There are many reasons behind this.  The one that is easiest for most people to understand is that we are in flux.  We will stay at my mother’s for 6 weeks or so whilst our shipment makes it’s way across the oceans and, even once we are back in our house, the upcoming take over of the company that The Husband works for by another company, mean that we really have no idea how long we will be settled for.  I would really hate to settle the children into school and then have to move them 2 or 3 months later.  Home Education means greater flexibility for the family at this point in our lives.  There are other reasons behind the decision too; the different academic years that the older two are in (The Eldest will just be finishing Grade 3 here, she would have to go straight into half way through Year 5, and similar for The Boy – from Grade 1 to half way through Year 3); the Eldest’s Aspergers; various issues that have come to light with The Boy and so on.  All in all, some time at home will hopefully be helpful to all of us.

Digby and The Husband
on our recent trip back
to the UK.

Some frequently asked questions! 

“But What About Socialisation?!”  (This seems to be the war cry from people who are anti Home Ed) There is a strong Home Ed community in the UK.  I am already in touch with various groups that meet regularly.  It seems that we can do everything from Horse Riding lessons, to Art Club, to Gymnastics, to GCSE courses.  There are also all the after school activities that we can do, including Drama and Team sports.  Do not fear, I am not intending on locking the children in a cupboard with no outside influence...

“Do you have to follow a set curriculum?” No is the short answer there, we can pretty much do what we want.  Some people who Home Ed have no curriculum at all, following the interests of the children, whilst others follow the National Curriculum to the letter.  We will be treading a middle path, loosely following the National Curriculum (to make re-entry into school further down the line, if appropriate, easier) but also taking time to follow our own interests. I want the children to really be into their learning, to discover that the world is a fabulously interesting place and that there is nothing “Boring” (the most frequent insult that my children seem to lobby at school!) about learning.

“Do you need to go on a course to be able to do it?” Well, I am a primary school teacher, so I am completely comfortable about meeting their educational needs at this point in their journey.  As it happens though, no you don’t need to take a course, anyone can do it and a lot of parents with no training at all do a fabulous job.

“How long will you do it for?” Well, how long is a piece of string?  As long as it seems the right thing for us to be doing.  Many Home Educated children take their exams and go onto University, so I am not hugely concerned about that bit.  But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, who knows what will happen in the next couple of years, let’s just go with the flow a bit.

My "Nooper" Heroes.
What can possibly go wrong?!

“Won’t you go nuts having the children around all the time?” Maybe!  But to be honest, we are happiest as a family when we are doing our own thing.  Most of the time that arguments break out are when we are under time pressure to do something and be somewhere; especially if the children are already exhausted from a day at school.  Considering that most people agree that everything that needs to be taught can be done in a couple of hours every day, that frees up an awful lot of time to do our own thing.

What’s the WORST thing that can happen?  Well, we can decide that it isn’t working for us and that the kids need to go into school.  Truly, if that’s the worst outcome, then I think we’re onto a winner.  We are all super excited about giving it a go.

The Sea is Deep and the World is Wide.

I feel extremely lucky to live the life I have lived so far.  As a child I travelled with my parents as we followed my Father's job around the world.  I was supposed to be born in Nigeria, but the gynaecologist fell ill and my Mother caught the next flight out of there at 8+ months pregnant.  I was flown back at 3 weeks old.  From Nigeria we moved to Turks and Caicos, and then on to Thailand.  When I was 7, we returned to the UK for several years and, when my parents moved onto Malawi when I was 10, I was installed in boarding school in West Sussex.  I still got to go out to wherever my parents were in the holidays and, after 6 months in Malawi, they moved on to Barbados and then Thailand, finally returning to the UK when I was in my final year at university.

It's hard to say how this travelling affected me.  Initially I was adamant that I would never leave the UK again, except to go on holiday.  I wanted to stop somewhere and put down proper roots.  It's certainly affected my siblings in different ways.  My older sister is very happy to stay put in one place now, roots dug deep.  My older brother enjoys travel, but has said that he is happy to live where he is now, surrounded by his friends.  My younger brother is entirely different, and has already taken himself off once to live in Bangkok with his girlfriend (now his wife), and I think is planning more adventures.  I am probably somewhere in the middle.  Had I not married The Husband, with his job that takes us off around the world, perhaps I would have been comfortable to stay in the UK for ever.  However, within a year of being married, we were off on our first posting to Milan in Italy.  We stayed there for 2 years before moving on to Mumbai, India, for 3 years.  Whilst we were in these places, we did our best to explore the country we lived in, as well as those made more accessible by their closeness.  Had we not been living in Mumbai and my father in Kathmandu, it's highly unlikely I would ever have got round to visiting Nepal, especially not with a 10 month old in tow.

My tiny snails setting sail on a ferry in Sydney!

At the end of our Indian posting, we went back to the UK and I was content to be home, playing house in our new cottage, making friends, putting down roots.  It was quite a while before I began to miss the travel, but then various postings began to be dangled in front of us.  For various reasons, each came to nothing, but they increased a general feeling of itchy feet for the pair of us.  Eventually, after 3 years in deepest, darkest, rural Berkshire, a posting came through and we moved to Australia and here we have set up camp for the next few years.

The move was emotionally harder than I had anticipated - I miss my friends and family in the UK, and I miss being close enough to be able to help them when they are going through difficult times.  However, we have just come back from our first holiday here and I have so much enjoyed being able to explore a new place.  We drove to Sydney from Brisbane, stopping at Port Macquarie on the way down and Coff's Habour on the way back up.  I have been able, freed from the tyranny of the school run for a week, to appreciate the opportunity that we have here, and that I have been lucky enough to have had all my life, to explore more of the world than many people get the chance to.  As the tiny snail said in the Snail and The Whale, "The sea is deep and the world is wide" and we are going to take our chance to sail it whilst we can.

Settling in...

We've been here for almost 3 months now, so I thought I'd do an update as to how we are settling in.

Our stuff arrived from the UK without any problems and it has been lovely to have the house kitted out with our own furniture.  I love the house, although after a solid Victorian Cottage with walls a foot thick, it does seem rather flimsy!  The noise carries and there is no way of getting a lie in when all the main rooms are on the same floor.  My favourite space has got to be downstairs in the enormous playroom - the kids can make as much mess as they like and it doesn't bother me at all because at the end of the day, I just migrate back upstairs to my lovely sitting room (that said, I've just walked downstairs to find ALL the puzzles out of their boxes and am not feeling quite so zen about it right now).

Australia Zoo.

The kids have settled really well into their new school, and The Feral One has been offered a Kindy place there from January.  They seem to be generally happy and making friends.  The Feral One and The Naughty Baby are still at home with me 24/7 and seem to be coping with that (they are so easy going those two!).  We go along to the gym 3 times a week and they seem to enjoy the creche there too - even if they do keep bringing back D&V bugs.

As postings go, it's a pretty cushy one and I certainly can't complain of any hardship here.  The cost of living is high, but we're on an expat package which takes that into account.  I can get most things here that I need and it's an easy place to live.  The worst bit about being here is that we are so very far away from our friends and family and I've been going through a stage of missing everyone quite badly.  I'm also missing my animals.  Sometimes it seems like the fun bits of my life - the horses and the dogs - have been sliced out and have been replaced by boring stuff instead - cleaning, gym and an extra long school run.  I'm told that I ought to regard the gym as "me" time (because I am child free), but I'd much rather be walking my dogs through the woods or across the common than trudging on a treadmill. Anyway.

We've been planning our sightseeing for the next few years.  We have a trip to Sydney booked in September and flights to NZ (North Island) booked in January.  We'd also like to go skiing in NZ at some point, go to Vanuatu/Fiji, see the Red Interior, drive the Great Ocean Drive and take a trip to Tazzy.  All whilst also exploring the Gold and Sunshine coasts.

I do keep meaning to blog a bit more regularly, but at the moment we're just in the settling in stage and not really doing much that is very exciting!  The Boy turned 5 in August and we took a trip to Sea World which was great fun.  The Eldest has learnt to ride her bike without stabilisers (I thought we were never going to get there!) and also turned 7 in August (celebrated with a trip to Steve Irwin's Australia Zoo).  I'm looking forward to seeing more of Australia in September!

So we're in the house...

Feeding the 'roos on a trip to the Koala Sanctuary.

I thought I'd write a quick update on Oz life.

We made the move into our new house about a week ago and it's been total bliss to have the space again.  The children have made the most of being able to race their scooters up and down the (downstairs) corridors and seem very much at home, although we still get occasional requests to go back "to our old house".  I hope those will dissipate once their toys are in situ.

The house is a reproduction Queenslander, so most of the living space is on the first floor - 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a dining room, sitting room, kitchen and mini study.  Downstairs is the 5th bedroom, laundry, 3rd bathroom, 2nd study and a cavernous space that the children have claimed as their own.  At the moment it is mainly furnished with rented furniture, although we have already bought a couple of bits of our own (4 Acapulco chairs for the veranda for example) and the landlady has left a few bits and pieces too.  

The Baby enjoying time out on her trike
(as the older 3 disappear into the distance on their scooters)

I can't wait for our own stuff to arrive.  It's in country and has cleared customs, but we're now waiting for quarantine.  Who knows how long that will take?  As far as we're aware they haven't even set a date to inspect it which is frustrating considering it's been in the country for a week.  I think that it's arrival will help settle the children more and I can't wait to put together the playroom.  The Husband is looking forward to the rest of the kitchen equipment coming ("I don't see how they can call it fully equipped if it doesn't have ramekins!").

We tried out A&E (when The husband dropped a knife on his toe and needed it gluing) and almost made another trip there when The Baby tried to cut her finger off with a pair of scissors.  I've checked out the dentists and already managed a root canal (at vast expense) that was, astoundingly, a very good experience.  We've got to grips with the supermarkets and it does seem like there is not a lot that you can't get here.  I may even be brave enough to try their online service soon.

The new trampoline.

The Eldest and The Boy start school on Monday and I approach it with mixed emotions.  The routine will be good for them and so will the opportunity to make friends.  However, I dislike the way school encroaches into our lives, especially as our school run is going to be a long one (a 20-30 minute drive depending on traffic) and I am not looking forward to the impending playground politics.  It's going to be very quiet next week!

I know that the Australians have been very sniffy about how cold it is here at the moment, but to us, newly arrived from the UK, it's beautiful!  Still very much jeans and possibly jumpers weather, but we've been able to eat plenty of meals out on the veranda during the day and the children even ventured into the pool one day.  No doubt by next winter we will have acclimatised and be whinging too!

Sunning myself on the veranda.

Here safe and sound.

The Boy ready for the flight.

I thought it might be time for a quick update!  I’ve been a bit offline for the last few weeks – the apartment we’re in doesn’t have wifi and my phone has been locked.  I feel like a bit of a fool because I thought that my phone was unlocked already and I could have saved us a lot of hassle if I’d unlocked it before I’d left the UK…

Anyway! We’re all safely here – the older three children were pretty angelic for the journey.  The mini ipads were a super investment.  The Baby was slightly less angelic, but she did sleep on the first flight and a bit on the second, even if not in a way that I could get any.  It could have been a LOT worse.

We’re staying in an apartment in the CBD and it’s pretty nice.  Mostly well stocked and well located too on the river.  It has a heated pool which we’ve taken advantage of a couple of times too. 

The Eldest ready for the flight.

The last 2 weeks (only 2? It seems a lot longer) have been spent looking for houses and schools and generally trying to orientate ourselves.  The children and I have spent a lot of time in playgrounds, getting light on our skin to get over the jetlag and just generally running off steam.  I’ve been super impressed with the playgrounds here – really well designed.  I love the one over at New Farm which is built around a couple of Banyan trees.  The one at the Botanical gardens is smaller, but we can get there along the river bank which is a nice walk.

The ferries have been fun too and we’ve caught them around a bit.  We accidentally went to a farmer’s market on our first weekend here which was a pleasant way to spend $100 in 5 minutes…  The first few days we were here were unseasonably wet, but it’s since brightened up and has been lovely.  Sunny days, if a little breezy.  We’re due some more rain tomorrow, but then it should brighten up for the weekend.

The joys of jetlag.

We were really pleased to find a beautiful house within budget.  It’s a reproduction Queenslander, so hopefully all the benefits of being in a Queenslander without the disadvantages of dodgy wiring etc.  It has a solar heated pool too which we intend on making full use of (those mad English in the pool in winter!).  We’re moving into it on the 6^th July.

Schools proved a little harder, particularly with regards to placing The Eldest in Year 2.  However, we’ve found one that we really like that will take her in Year 2 and The Boy in prep (which is equivalent to the UK reception) which is a relief.  They will both be the youngest in their year by a couple of months because the Australian cut off date is at the end of June, which means they should both be in the year below with their August birthdays.  If we were moving here forever, then that wouldn’t be a problem at all, but as we’re intending on coming back to the UK, it was important for us to keep them in their English years.

On the Ferry.

We’ve had some issues with car seats.  Our English ones were illegal here (despite being top of the range in the UK), so we had to buy Australian ones which all require a tether.  With 4 children under 7, they all required tethered seats, but the car we’ve been given (a Hyundai Sante Fe) only has 3 tether points.  After a bit of a battle, they’ve now ordered us a Kia Carnival (aka The Van) which I am thrilled about (I’ve wanted a van for a while…).  Not only will it have the 4^th tether point that we need, it will be a lot more practical than the Sante Fe for a family of 6.

So we’re all settling pretty well.  I’ve had some moments of homesickness and missing friends, but it’s been so full on that I haven’t really had time to dwell on it.  The children are a lot more relaxed than they were before we left the UK and I think that they will be happier still when they start school again.  The Husband has even checked out the local Accident and Emergency services, after dropping a sharp knife on his toe.  He needed it glued poor boy…

Snack time at the New Farm playground.

Moving on.

I have neglected this blog recently, too many things to do outside of the virtual world.  However with another move looming, I felt like I wanted to write a little about it.

Me (the littlest one) with my older sister
and brother in Grand Turk.

As a child we moved a lot around the world, we lived in Zambia (before I was born), Nigeria, Grand Turk, Thailand, Malawi, Barbados and Thailand again.  When I flew the nest, I originally was quite QUITE sure that I was never going to leave England ever again, except for the odd holiday here and there.  Things didn't work out quite like that - The Husband works in Oil and Gas and within a year of being married, we had headed off to our first posting in Milan.  We were excited to go, I disliked my job and leapt at the chance to give it up and become an expat.  The deal wasn't quite as I had expected, without the support of my Mother, I had to do so much for myself, so many things that I wasn't even aware of when we were growing up and moving around.  I did my best, I learned Italian and took up a job in an international school.  In time I became pregnant with the Eldest and returned to the UK to give birth (figuring that I wished to be able to scream for an epidural in my own language).  When The Eldest was 6 weeks old, I took her back to Milan and that was a hard time.  Isolated with a baby who had Aspergers (although we didn't know it at the time) and who spent her entire time screaming at me pushed me into post natal depression.

When she was about 6 months old, we were offered the opportunity to move to India, arriving there when she was 8 months old.  We left Milan after 2 years with a light heart, I was looking forward to a more "typical" expat posting, one with nannies, maids and swimming pools!  India was a fantastic experience, we saw as much of it as we could in between pregnancies.  I gave birth to The Boy whilst there.  However, after 3 years, we were ready to come home.  Although we were sad to leave some of our friends (and in particular our lovely Indian Nanny), it was the right time to leave.  Getting on the flight at 35 weeks pregnant felt like a release.

This time it feels different - I think that we have stayed here 6 months too long, we've put down extra roots.  We've had to rehome the animals which has been an almighty wrench.  I am upset to be leaving my support network of friends and family - lots and lots of lovely friends who I have made in the area and others spread out around the country.  A fair number of my lovely friends have "chosen" this moment to announce pregnancies (how very dare they!) and I am sad that I won't be able to cuddle their newborn babies and help them through the first, exhausting, few months of a new baby.  I find myself welling up when I think of moving away from here.  My usual bouncing confidence has taken blow and I become upset over silly things that would normally roll off my back.

Now I KNOW that moving to Australia for a few years is the most wonderful opportunity.  We're looking forward to seeing a new part of the world and starting a new adventure.  I'm looking forward to hitting the beach more often and possibly having a pool in the back garden.  I'm hoping that it'll be easier to teach the children how to ride their bikes and all sorts of other things (although I am less keen on meeting some of the Australia wildlife).

Somehow we have to take these 4 terrors on a 24 hour flight!

I'm pretty organised for the move now - the biggest things have been done; the house has been let; the car has been sold; the animals have been rehomed.  Now I'm just in the stage of packing preparation - cleaning things up for Aussie Quarantine; putting things in the right rooms for packing; finishing the shipping inventory.  This next week will be concentrated on getting the suitcases ready for the flight and the week after that, the packers will be in, packing us up and shipping us out.  Our flights have been booked for the 3rd June.  It's all happening pretty quickly, goodbyes are being said, final drinks being arranged.

But Facebook, blogs and emails make it so much easier to keep in touch with everyone - I hope to be updating this more regularly for anyone who wants to read how we're doing.  So although we're moving on in person, we'll still be here in the virtual world.

Who is stealing all my time?!

I am a fairly organised person.  I think that you have to be with 4 children under 7, 2 dogs and 2 cats, and with my horse coming back from my sister and a pony arriving for the children, time is only going to get tighter.  I do wonder sometimes though where all the time goes, who is the time thief?  Most people say, "Well, you have 4 children!" and that is a valid point, but sometimes it seems that time just slips away from me and I end up running around stressed and anxious instead of the calm person that I prefer to be (although Screaming Harpy Lady has been banished from the house, she still tries to break in at times).

So I turned to pinterest for inspiration on how to be better organised but found that, in general (like this blog about 10 habits for a well-run home), I was already doing the suggestions.  Maybe I was as organised as I could get?  Then I found an article (which of course I have lost and have NO idea where I read it, somewhere on the internet is as good as it gets I'm afraid) which suggested that the most likely candidate for time stealing was not The Husband, The Children, The Dogs or even The Cleaning, but myself.  I was stealing time from myself by not putting things back where they should be as I used them and simply by not doing jobs as I went along.

For example, I have a hot child, so I grab the thermometer from it's resting place in the bathroom cupboard and run downstairs to where the hot child is and take their temperature.  They are feverish, so I put the thermometer down on the side and go and grab them some calpol.  I then forget where the thermometer is, so the next time I go to take a child's temperature, I have to spend 5 minutes hunting down the thermometer.  Or, I come in from the school run and everybody (including me) dumps their stuff in the dining room as we sit down to a snack.  After snack, the children go to tear apart the playroom, leaving coats and shoes in the dining room.  Of course the next morning when we are trying to get ready for school, shoes are lost (mine as well as everyone else's) and tempers get frayed.  Things are NEVER where they should be because we (as I am not the only one guilty of this) have tried to cut corners and shave time off our jobs.

In the long run, I end up stealing the time from myself - 30 seconds is all it takes to run back upstairs and put the thermometer back, about a tenth of the time it will take me to look for it if it's in the wrong place.  30 seconds to put my boots back in the cupboard rather than the 5 minutes as I run round stressing because I have to look in every room because I can't remember where I took them off.  I have not left them in the wrong room because I am lazy and can't be bothered to put them away, but usually because I am hopping on one foot trying to take them off with one hand whilst separating screaming children with the other hand (and my teeth) and pouring glasses of milk with my free foot (I'm multi talented me - prehensile toes).

So who is stealing all my time?! Oh, it is me, I am stealing it from myself.

Over the Christmas break, we worked hard to organise the house even more than it already is to ensure that everything has a place where it can be put and we are making sure that stuff is put away.  Not only ourselves, but the children too.  I have started two separate picking up times during the day - one before lunch and one before tea and I expect the playroom to be tidy at both of those.  The children now put their shoes, coats and other oddments away as they come in from school.  I have a new routine for after school that ensures that spellings and reading are done straight away and don't hang over us.  I wash up the dishes as I go through the day so that there is not a huge load to be done at the end of it.  It is really small things that are making a HUGE difference to my life.  I can now be pretty sure that if I need the thermometer, it will be in the bathroom cupboard, if I need a scarf, it is in a specific box in the coat cupboard and if I need a large gin, the bottle is in the alcohol cabinet... It's working well, the putting away as well as the gin that is, and life has become calmer still.  One day I may even reach the zen like state that I aspire to. One day.

The Christmas Photos.

We don't normally do photo Christmas cards, but this year I was inspired by various posts on Pinterest to do one of The Children.

We went to the lovely Kerry at Rooksdown Photography near Basingstoke who was offering a total bargain of a 20 minute shoot with 5 images on disc for £20.  She was the same photographer who took the other beautiful photos of the children earlier in the year and she is very patient and sweet with the children (and me!).

This was the one that we used on the cards.

Cute picture but sadly missing The Baby.

Tied them up, now creeping off...

Admiring her tying up handiwork...

Life is funny when you're The Baby.

The benefits of a diagnosis.

I have been asked by several people whether or not I think that there was much point in getting The Eldest diagnosed with Aspergers, considering how high functioning she is.  I would most definitely say yes, there are many reasons why my life is easier and her life is better, and not just because we get to queue jump at Legoland!

A diagnosis, once I was over the initial shock, has helped to take any "blame" away for her behaviour.  I no longer feel that it was/is my fault that she is the way she is.  No part of my parenting has "broken" her, quite the opposite in fact.  

A diagnosis has helped me to understand how I can help her.  I am able to phrase requests in a way that she will take notice of.  I am able to correct her behaviour in a way that is helpful for her rather than just being confusing.  Knowing that (some of) her behaviour is not dictated by sheer waywardness helps me to deal with her in a calmer and more confident way.  

A diagnosis has opened up extra help for her.  Not a lot admittedly, but it means that she has an IEP (Individual Education Plan) that is regularly reviewed by her teacher.  It means that the staff at school are more aware of her needs.  It has avoided her being labelled as lazy - she's dreamy and looks out of the window, but it is not laziness that leads her to do so.  If her needs were greater, it would have meant that we were able to access therapies for her, or get her some one on one time to help with her studies.

A diagnosis will, if I ever get round to filling out the enormous document, release some funds that we can use to help her.  Not a lot of money, but hopefully enough to help pay for things such as Rainbows to improve her social skills, or dance/gymnastics/swimming to help improve her gross motor skills.  Money that will help her.

Last, but not least, a diagnosis means that many places, such as Legoland, Peppa Pig world etc, will give her a queue jumping pass which makes our days out so much simpler and easier.  There are not many silver linings for living with Aspergers, but this is definitely one of them!

It's been almost a year since she was diagnosed with Aspergers and in that time she has made enormous progress.  Not only has her school work improved, but she's made huge strides socially and in her awareness of how the world works around her.  I really feel that a diagnosis has switched on a light for both of us - we are no longer stumbling around in the dark, fumbling and tripping, but moving with purpose with our way clearly lit.

Advent Calendar.

This year I have found myself Pinspired to throw away our cardboard advent calendars and make us one that can be reused each year.

I largely made it up as I went along and I think it has not come out too badly considering my lack of forethought and the fact that I did the majority of it with a cracking hangover.  

It's a fairly simple design - I cut out 24 squares of fabric from my Christmas material and hemmed them using iron on interfacing.  I interfaced a block of felt, then cut out the numbers using the magnetic ones that I have on my fridge as a guide.  I then stuck the numbers on with fabric glue and took a break overnight.  When I came back to it, I reinforced the numbers by sewing round the edges of them (this was probably the most time consuming part).  I then became sidetracked by making a Christmas wall hanging which I had vague ideas of putting the pockets onto, but came back instead to a plain back ground.  I cut out two equal rectangles, on one I ironed on yet more interfacing, and on the other I sewed the pockets on.  I sewed round three sides, leaving the top of each pocket free so that I can put stuff in it.  Then I sewed the two pieces together inside out, putting bits of ribbon in the right place for hanging and finally I turned it the right way round and sewed all around the edge to finish it off.  Simples.  It's not perfect, I certainly wouldn't try to sell it to anyone, but it will do for what I want it for.

And what I want it for is this - as well as the usual chocolates that I will put in each pocket (The Eldest was VERY keen to make sure that she would still get chocolate), I have a Christmas activity to do each day.  When we dish out the chocolate each morning, we'll also pull out a piece of paper that has today's activity on it.  The following our the ones I thought would be good for us, and I've decided which day they should be on, bearing in mind whether or not the day fell on the weekend etc etc.

Choose and decorate a Christmas tree.

Make Borax Christmas tree ornaments.

Write your letter to Father Christmas.

Make paper chains to decorate the house.

Make Salt Dough Christmas tree Ornaments.

Decorate the salt doughornaments

Make paper snowflakes

Write your Christmas cards.

Go to a Christmas Pantomine.

Give your cards out to your friends.

Bake some Christmas Cookies

Decorate some Christmas Cookies

Dance to some Christmas music.

Watch a Christmas movie

Have a Christmas Party

Make Fudge and cookies for your teachers.

Colour a Christmas picture.

Ring their Aunt and sing Jingle bells to her.

Read a Christmas story.

Give Cards and presents to your teachers.

Make a cotton wool snowman.

Drive up to see Granny and Granddad in Norfolk and Go for a walk in the dark with torches.

Visit Father Christmas in his Grotto.

Open the Christmas Eve Box (with new pjs and slippers in, a christmas movie, hot chocolate supplies etc)

There are loads of other ideas around on Pinterest and elsewhere on the net, I just picked the ones that worked for us.

Could we not just pretend we've already had this battle and I've already won?

I like to pick and choose my battles, but some are thrust upon me.  Every morning I battle with The Boy to get him up and dressed for school.  I always win, eventually, but I am getting fed up with it.  This morning I did indeed say, "Boy (well, actually I used his name, but I shall call him Boy here), could we not just pretend that we've already had this battle and just move on to the point where you give in and get dressed?", but for some reason that didn't wash with a 4 year old.

Angelic now, but you just try getting them dressed for school.

A good friend of mine has recently decided that pocket money should be linked to behaviour and I am rapidly coming round to her way of thinking.  We haven't introduced pocket money yet, but at 6 and 4, I think that the eldest two may be ready for it.  The Boy certainly seemed keen when I mentioned it to him and The Eldest called out from her bath that she would like a reward chart too.  I am more than sure that the Feral One will rapidly get the idea and set up some scheme to diddle the older two out of theirs, save up, invest, buy, sell and end up owning the world and ruling us all.

Plotting to rule the world.

I have to work out an appropriate amount - enough to buy a comic and a chocolate bar at the local shop would probably be about right, if I can deal with the tantrums that are bound to erupt when they don't have enough.  I also need to work out what needs to go on it and to not make it too complicated as I'm tempted to put down every single piece of behaviour on it, but I know I need to focus on just a select few. Just the morning routine for now, we can work on other things once we have that on the go.  I think that we will design them tomorrow after school and I will let you know how we get on.

Sometimes I dream of returning to work...

Most of the time I enjoy my job/role as a mother/housewife/bottom-wiper in chief.  90% of the time anyway.  But days like today, when The Husband came in from work to find me lying, defeated, on the playroom floor while The Boy gently kicked my head from his position on the sofa and the baby used me as a trampoline (the older girls were "playing" pushing), dogs unwalked because The Boy was ill and off school, yesterday's washing unsorted in the sitting room, with today's piled on top of it - I long for the peace of working in a class room of 8 year olds.

It's been quite a tough couple of days actually - The Boy has been sickening/ill and has thrown several impressive tantrums.  One of them today involved me removing him from the car and setting him on the side of the road because he refused to do his seatbelt up, and when I did it up, he undid it again.  After half a minute of screaming (from him I might add, I had my temper just about in check), I let him back in the car, he did his seatbelt up and we were able to continue on our way, but it was draining nonetheless.  The Baby has also been a touch trying with several tantrums of her own - unusual for her really, but she's learning from the best.  When she's not throwing tantrums, she's emptying the kitchen cupboards, or escaping up the stairs, or taking or the DVDs off the shelves. The Feral One has weed on the sofa several times and The Eldest has been very Aspergic (that's not even a real word, but it sums her up). Added to that a course of antibiotics for me and The Husband returning to work after a week off and any old ladies who tell me to "enjoy every minute" are likely to get their eyes poked out.

Of course, I know that I won't return to work, not yet anyway.  Childcare costs for 4 children under 7 would wipe out my salary, not to mention paying someone to come in and walk the dogs.  Getting nutritious meals on the table is hard enough when I have all day to prepare them, god knows how I would manage it if I were out all day.

Most importantly for me though, 90% of the time I really do feel genuinely grateful that I can spend these years at home with my babies.  I try to remember this through the tougher times.  Tomorrow is another day, lets hope that it's a bit more successful than this one.

An updating sort of post.

I thought I'd just do a quick update on several things as I meant to and I never got round to doing it.

1. Operation Sleep Through.  This has been largely successful.  Now, unless the baby is ill, or teething, she generally sleeps a full night.  It only took a couple of nights to achieve as well which we were pretty amazed by (we had given ourselves a week to deal with it).  Of course, the others will wake at times, so I can't guarantee a full night every night for me, but it's made a huge difference and I am much less tired and snappy.

2. Back to school blues.  Really, they haven't been as bad as I feared at all.  Getting up early has made a huge difference to the way our mornings happen.  The Eldest seems to have "woken up" at school, continuing to make good progress with her reading and spelling generally.  I am very proud of her.  The Boy has taken big school in his stride, we've only had a couple of weepy mornings, apart from that he's settled in well and is a rather splendid little lad.  The Feral One LOVES preschool, she thinks it's the best thing ever. Preschool seem to love her too :)

3. Time to stop yelling.  I'm extremely pleased to announce that Screaming Harpy Lady has not been seen this week.  Hopefully it's the start of a calmer stage in my life, now that the baby is nearing a year old and I am less tired.  I still have grumpy days and I'm not all sweetness and light, but at least I am always in control of my temper.

Trying to get the little "cherubs" to do as I wish.

My children are generally pretty well behaved little beings - or at least they are when we are out and about.  At home they can drive me totally nuts with their squabbling, but (apparently!) fighting with siblings provides important social lessons for them and so it a Good Thing.  Right.  Whatever.

Anyway, back to behaving.  I try to set them clear boundaries.  I am clear about the consequences of crossing them.  I try to make consequences logical and, as far as possible, immediate.  I try not to use threats that I know I cannot or will not carry through. I am consistent in the things I pick up on, BUT sometimes you have to know when to fold.

Example - walking along the road as a family.  The walk up the hill to school gives me the heebie jeebies.  The pavement is narrow and the cars are fast.  The children cannot mess around for fear of falling off the edge of the pavement and being squashed.  The Feral One is good at walking, but can be distracted, so I warn her that if she cannot walk nicely, she will have to hold my hand and I follow through.  I've been known to carry her a considerable distance by her arm (I do not recommend this as a course of action, both for the safety of their arms and the good of your back).  We also walk in the woods with the dogs and, fairly early on in all their childhoods, I've left a screaming child on the floor and gone ahead and hidden behind a bush where I can see them and ensure that they remain safe (normally with the older children sobbing "Nooooooo!  You can't leave xxx behind!", "Shuddup and hide!").  Sooner or later, they've got up, dusted themselves off and come to find us.

Example - squabbling over toys.  They drive me nuts with this - they have thousands of blimmin toys, but you can bet your bottom dollar that they will all want the same one at the same time.  So the first warning goes out, "Please play nicely and share with the bag/dolly/crayons, or I will take them away".  Second warning repeats the first and may also offer a solution, "If you cannot play nicely with the toy, I will take it away and neither of you will have it.  Why doesn't xxx play with it for a few minutes and then xxx after?" or, "Could you get her another dolly to play with?".  Then a final warning and it's gone.

Example - physical fighting and hurting one another.  They actually don't get a warning for this - they know full well that they shouldn't do it.  They have Time Out which removes them from the situation and gives it a chance to simmer down.  After Time Out, they need to come back in, talk through why they shouldn't hit/punch/claw eyes out/hit over the head with a wooden car/kick and make amends, normally by apologising and giving the hurt one a cuddle to make them feel better.  Sometimes a cuddle is the only sorry that you can get from The Feral One, but you've got to allow them some wiggle room.

There are hundreds upon hundreds of examples I could give - daily battles and hurdles to jump.  As well as the consequences I've outlined above, others could be not getting pudding because they won't touch their tea (I don't ask them to clear their plates if they don't want to, but I do ask them to try it), sent to their rooms to spend some time simmering down.  I would not, however, threaten removal of pudding for a fighting infringement earlier in the day - firstly because pudding has nothing to do with fighting and secondly because it's too far away.

Finally, the other weapon in my arsenal is Time In.  I use it if I need to break down defiance (when they are standing there rigid with determination, a cuddle is of more use than escalating the situation further - I normally get my own way anyway, but with happier children).  Oh, and I praise praise praise when they do something kind, or that I want them to do - there is no point just picking up the bad, you have to reward the good too.

I hope that this doesn't sound like I think I have all the answers - I know full well that I don't and I also know that all children are different and what works for one will not always work for another.  The way that you deal with your child will depend on their own personality and also on yours, but this is what works for us.

Time to stop yelling.

I've been a bit remiss about writing this blog since The Boy started school and The Feral One started preschool.  They've both settled in well and I thought I would have loads of time to get things done.  Well I don't.  I won't say that I have less and it's certainly easier to get things done when they are at school, but I still seem to be chasing my tail most of the time.  Still, time really to try to get back to the blog.

I would generally say that I am a good parent.  My children are happy, reasonably well behaved, bright and interested in the world around them.  Of course we have our ups and downs, some days they are more polite than others - all four of them played a blinder today whilst out at lunch with friends - some days they squabble and fight more than others, but all in all, they are good, sweet kids.  However, I do have an area that I really need to work on.  Where I really fall down is my tendency to shout when stressed.  I'm not talking about when I shout "Stop!" across the field, or raising my voice to make a point or to be heard above the general insurrection, I'm talking proper screaming harpy, about to burst a blood vessel loss of control.

What is so baffling about this complete loss of temper is that it never happens with anyone except the children.  I don't shout at my husband (I prefer to snipe), I don't shout at my parents, siblings, friends, acquaintances or even random strangers, however rude they may be to me.  I certainly don't shout at children who come round to play, or even in front of them.  I don't shout at the baby, and it is rare for me to shout at the Feral One (although she is sometimes caught in the cross fire).  Mainly, it is The Eldest who gets it in the neck, followed in second place by The Boy.  So why do I lose it with the children?  Those little beings who really are the most important things in the world to me?

I recently read THIS blog about stopping what she refers to as a "Mama Tantrum" and I can relate to it.  I've sat down (well, I haven't, but I've thought about it whilst doing other stuff) and tried to work out where my triggers are and I think I have it.  It's not children wetting themselves.  It's not drawing on the walls.  It's not treading mud (and other unmentionable stuff) into the house.  It's not attempting to cook dinner with The Boy wrapped around my legs.  It's not refusing to eat their dinner and throwing it on the floor.  It's not them having a tantrum in the supermarket.  Most of the time it's not even them beating each other around the head with toys (although that is close to being a trigger point, especially if I'm trying to get something done at the time). All those trials of parenthood are met (normally anyway) with equanimity and calmness.

My trigger for a loss of control screaming tantrum from me is when the baby is screaming and I cannot pick her up to stop her because I have my hands full of other children.  As soon as the baby starts to cry, my stress levels soar, I get hurried and impatient with the older children which flusters them as well and then it all goes downhill as fingers start to fumble with seat belts, water bottles get dropped, bags get forgotten, time starts to tick on and we're not ready to depart for the school run (see, it's that time of the day again, oh how I hate it) - cue Mummy having a hissy fit.  Of course, me screaming does NOT make fingers any less fumbly, or find bags and pick up bottles, it just ends with a stunned silence (except from The Baby, who just ignores me and carries on with her own woes) and possibly tears.  It does not help the situation in any way, shape, or form, and I need to stop doing it.

Don't be fooled by the innocent exteriors,
they are perfectly capable of throwing at least as big a tantrum as I am!

So armed with the knowledge of my trigger point, I am going to follow her STOP strategy.  Wish me luck, I will report back in a week.

Here is a short UPDATE on how it's going so far.

Getting up early has changed my life.

The children are not
always keen to get up...

Now I know that the title makes me sound like a bit of a saddo, and in reality, that's probably what I am - that and a control freak!  But the reality is that getting up an hour before the children has changed every single day and changed it for the better.  I can appreciate that not everyone has time to get up early (nor many people the inclination!) and probably if you have fewer animals and pets than me, then it wouldn't be so important, but that hour's "peace" in the morning before the rampaging hoards awake sets the tone for the whole day.  It even helps me to lose weight!

I get up at 6am.  It takes me 20 minutes to shower, wash my hair, attack my face with some makeup and get dressed.  The next 20 minutes are focused on chores, I feed the dogs, cats and fish.  I put a load of washing in the machine, I clear and lay the table for breakfast, I put away the stuff that was washed up the night before. The final 20 minutes are spent preparing my breakfast and eating it in peace - having time to do this sets me up for the day food wise and means that I'm less likely to snack and make unhealthy choices.

Sometimes they are
positively difficult in fact.

By the time the children get up at 7, I'm ready to hit the day running.  I have no growling stomach making me grouchy with the children, I have no lurking animals trying to trip me up as I try to get the breakfast on the table whilst the children bicker and fight.  I have no baby screaming and banging on the shower door as I try to get clean and ready for the day.



I might even go so far as to say that my mornings are fairly zen like now.  And the dread of the school run?  Well that has largely passed too due to being more relaxed and organised.  I won't go so far as to say that we skip up the hill, but there is less screaming involved from all of us.  And that is always a good thing.

But we're generally ready to leave on
time with some semblance of a smile on our faces...

Back to school blues.

Well that's it, the summer holidays are officially over and tomorrow we start another academic year.  The school uniform is purchased and named, the new shoes are sitting clean in the cupboard, the PE kit and book bags have been found and filled and lunch has been put in the box.  There are big changes afoot this year, The Eldest goes into Year 2, The Boy will start Reception on the 20th September and The Feral One starts 10 hours a week of preschool on the 17th (god help them - the preschool staff that is, rather than The Boy and The Feral One).  The Baby will just be at home with me as usual.

I have mixed feelings about school restarting.  On the one hand, it will be nice to have a bit of a break!  I have no doubt that the house will be tidier, the bottom of the laundry basket will be seen more regularly and the dogs (and I) will be fitter.

But I hate doing the school run with a passion - it is the biggest flash point during the day between me and the children.  You can almost guarantee that I will lose my temper at least once - normally when the baby is wailing because I have had the temerity to put her down whilst trying to wrestle another child into their coat and shoes.  Then we'll be half way up to school and the cry of "I NEED A POO!" will be heard along with screams of, "I DON'T WANT TO WALK UP THE HILL!".  Or, just to make a change, "MUMMY, YOU'VE FORGOTTEN MY LUNCH BOX!" (or worse still, "Mummy, you've forgotten the baby!" - I joke, but in the scrum that is getting out of the house in time for school, it could happen I am sure).  Dragging the children up the hill sobbing that they wanted to drive, then finally we get to school, the whistle goes, The Eldest lines up and then I have to endure the heart wrenching tears from her because she doesn't want to go in as I grin madly in a fixed way telling her that she'll have a wonderful day.  Please please please let her be more enthusiastic about it this year.

Which leads me on to other issues thrown up by school - disagreements with her friends (and foe!), pressure to complete reading and homework, dealing with other issues that come up at school when you have a child with Aspergers.  I know that I have to chase up the SENCO to see if she is going to get any extra help (probably not, but it's got to be worth a try) and I have a load of forms to fill in preparation for The Boy's start.  I love the holidays because we exist in a bubble of our own where none of these cares impinges on our enjoyment of day to day life - there are no politics or policies to deal with, just me and the children and friends and activities of our own choosing.  They may drive me up the wall on occasions, but at least it is my own wall.


Short of homeschooling them though (and it's something I have seriously considered), school is something that has to be dealt with.  The bubble has popped, the summer is over.  Roll on half term.

Here is a short UPDATE on this!

Survival!

 I have 4 small children (although they are rapidly growing up, gulp), 2 dogs, 2 cats, a tank full of fish and a husband to look after.  I don't have any regular help with the children during the week except statutory education during term time (The Eldest is in full time school, The Boy is just about to start full time school, up until now he's been at preschool for 15 hours a week, The Feral One is about to start preschool for 10 hours a week, before that she was with me full time and The Baby is still at home with me full time).  The Husband is pretty good at helping out, but he leaves for work between 7 and 7.30 in the morning and comes home around 6 at night.  The children get up at 7 and go to bed around 7, you do the maths.  My mother lives not to far away, but works full time.  My sister and Mother in Law both live further away and have their own lives to live.  Whilst I can call on people in an emergency, on a day to day basis, it's me, with help from The Husband in the evenings.  How do I do it?  Well, quite apart from the fact that I don't think I do "do it", here are the things that I DO do.

Prioritise sleep.  We all need differing amounts, but I like 8 hours at night or I feel like death.  It's amazing how my parenting skills and ability to keep my temper improve when I get some sleep.  So I go to bed early if I need to and recently I've worked on getting the baby to sleep through.

Get up before the kids.  This is a relatively recent addition to my survival skills, but already it's made a huge difference.  Now that the baby has started sleeping through, I can go to bed at 10pm, fairly safe in the knowledge that I will get 8 hours sleep before getting up at 6am.  That hour to myself before the kids get up allows me to get organised and have my breakfast in peace.  Then I can hit the ground running when they wake up and I am less likely to metamorphose into Screaming Harpy Lady.

Get organised. I try to make sure that everything is where it should be the night before, so that we are not running round like headless chickens in the morning before the school run trying to find shoes and coats.  Packed lunches are made the night before and stored in the fridge so that they can just be grabbed.  The children know where their shoes and coats are kept so they can get them without my help.  Of course, you can pretty much guarantee that something will go awry, a child will undress them selves just as you are going out the door for example, but being organised lessens the chances of a meltdown by any of the parties involved.

Get out of the house and do some exercise.  I have two dogs who need to be walked everyday and I know that I feel better when I do it rather than leaving it to The Husband.  Unless it is snowing heavily, there's really no reason not to go out.  I wrap up everyone in waterproofs and head out.  Our wet dog walks are legendary and generally really enjoyed by all.

Batch cook. Why cook a meal two or three times when you could just cook double or triple the amount and then stick it in the freezer?  It's also easier to remain Zen at meal times when they refuse to eat what you have cooked if you haven't slaved over it for hours (by the by, I operate an "Eat it or starve" policy when it comes to meals).  I keep freshly cooked meals very simple for the same reason.

Meal plan. I do a weekly meal plan to make sure that I know what we're eating every evening and to make sure that I've got all the ingredients.  There is nothing worse than looking in the fridge at 4.30pm thinking, "What on Earth am I going to feed them?!!".  I don't always stick to the plan, but at least it's there as a point of reference.

Pick your battles.  The Feral One has drawn on herself?  Never mind, it'll wash off.  The Eldest refuses to touch vegetables?  It's ok, I'll puree it into her meals.  The Boy has pulled out all the toys and thrown them across the playroom? Well, he can just help me put them back again. The baby is pulling all the DVDs off the shelf? At least it is keeping her quiet.  I don't sweat the small stuff, it's ok if the kids spill water on the floor, it's ok if a child wets themselves, it's ok if they've drawn on the walls.  I'd rather it didn't happen and I'll try to ensure it doesn't happen again, but it's ok and certainly not worth losing my temper over.  It's NOT ok if they hurt each other or if they are mean to one another or if they are rude to me - those are the battles I pick.

Know your limits.  I am neither Superwoman nor a saint.  I know what I can and can't get done during the day with the kids in tow.  I do NOT do the weekly shopping with them, it's just not worth the hassle and stress.  I do it online in the comfort of my own sitting room after they are in bed.  If I don't get all the washing sorted, so what?  It'll keep (and if I'm lucky, then The Husband will sort it for me).

Count your blessings.  I know that there are many people who would give their right arm to be in my fortunate position and when I really want to scream, I try to remember that (only try, I'm not a saint and some days the scream just has to escape).

Look on the funny side.  We were walking the dogs up on the common yesterday, it was a beautiful day, the girls were on their scooters and The Boy was on his bike.  I just shouted to The Eldest to wait for the rest of us, when she went round the corner, down the hill and badly grazed her knee (quite a lot of blood).  As I legged it towards her, further screaming ensued behind me - without my constant guidance, The Boy had driven his bike off the path and down the hill into a bush full of brambles and had then fallen over.  I had to laugh - it was either that or cry...

Outsource the cleaning.  Ok, I admit that I am a very lucky girl to have this.  The lady who cleans my house is amazing, she comes in once a week and blitzes it.  I call the day she comes "Sparkly Thursday".  It takes the pressure off me, because at the end of the day, I am not superwoman, nor do I claim to be.

If all else fails then:

Eat chocolate.  I'm never going to be thin, but hey, I'm a nicer person when I have eaten chocolate.

At the end of the day, I'm only human.  I have coping strategies, but there are definitely days when I am more Screaming Harpy than Calm and Collected Mummy.  Remember: