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.