Thursday, 19 January 2012

Cream Crackered

I think I have a virus. That is my theory anyway, I visit the Doctor tomorrow to get confirmation.
I hope he listens because I have been off colour all week, and need to be certified tomorrow because I should be back at work (some people may say I should have been certified years ago)

So the household is getting a very thinly scraped superficial layer of attention from me this week. Likewise the family.

Cleaning is getting done in small doses. Washing is thrown in the machine and left. Actually there are sheets that have been on the line for three days. They got nearly dry yesterday, left out overnight, then it rained this morning  (sigh) The boys are being told 'Mum is on a short fuse. Be nice to her'. Pup is trying, in his usual delightfully random style. He offered to make me a cup of tea on the way home from school yesterday, and he actually remembered to do it. I nearly cried. They all brought me a bunch of flowers 'to cheer you up mummy' last Saturday. That is extravagance coming from Himself, who is NOT the last of the big spenders. Himself is really pulling his weight, which is nice; but he is understandably reluctant to take days off work just to nurse a wife who is feeling sorry for herself.

So here we go round and round. Or that's how it feels. Get one big issue sorted and something else crops up.

I shouldn't complain. We have a decent home, are warm, fed, both have job security, the kids have an excellent school. That's probably more than 90% of the world population has (don't quote me on that figure!) I'm just in a blue mood. Hence my last rather negative post.

How are the rest of the family? Oh yes, I'd forgotten about them.

Himself. Overworked and overtired all the time, or so it seems. Still manages to laugh fairly often.

Pup is just - Pup. The one and only. Wants to be a chef. Is his normal self. Still can't shake off his frustratingly persistent morning cough. Is becoming a really caring and thoughtful person - when he's not pushing hs little brother around or being totally silly.

The Chef
Tiggs. Teacher says he's growing up, and is behaving a lot better at school. Is 'off' reading at the moment. He can do the easy words and can't be bothered with the hard ones. Has a cold and therefore a horrible hacking cough, so thinks he is 'very very poorly'. Still enjoys writing on walls, despite the amount of time he spends trying to wash said writing off walls.

The cats. In winter hibernation mode. I would love to be a cat in winter. Sleeeeep! The only downside would be having to go outdoors to the loo.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

They deserve to be heard.

  This morning Tiggs started crying in the cloakroom at school. He didn't tell me why, and I assumed it was because he'd fallen on the way to school, then to top that when he got there I was nagging him gently reminding him that he must sort his coats, lunchbags, bookbags etc before he started on his social life. The teaching assistant saw him crying and came up to ask what was wrong, and he immediately told her that he was upset because another boy had moved his lunch bag. He hadn't told me that - I hadn't asked, I'd assumed I knew what was wrong. Teaching assistant escorted him off to the classroom still sniffing, and I walked home alone making mental note to self to listen to my kids more..... 
Sometimes there just doesn't seem to be time to listen to them in all the jobs that need to be done. And often I am not patient enough to listen through all the garbage that small boys talk - the role play games, the silly word play games they both love. 

Asking them how their day was doesn't work:
Pup "Ok, mummy"
Tiggs "I forget"

I've got a book called 'How to talk so kids will listen and listen so kids will talk'. It's a book I've got a lot of time for, but putting the advice into action with two hyper boys is not easy.

Must try harder.

Please God grant me the ablilty to listen to my kids, and make me into the sort of Mum that they want to talk to.

They DO deserve to be heard.

Monday, 9 January 2012

What's new?

The new stuff around here is
  • A lot of new toys, some already broken (naturally) 
  • Tigs new glasses; titanium, supposedly as small boyproof as you can get. We picked them up the Wednesday before Christmas, and they were broken on the 6th January. He had a temper tantrum on the way home from school, threw them on the pavement and a woman on a bike ran over them. You could ask (and I did) why she was riding on the pavement, but it was not her fault that they were there.
  • I've been a bit low and am not doing as well as I should in sorting out Mum's affairs. Trying not to kick myself all the time because I just don't feel up to it sometimes. The garden is full of rubble because of one of our latest projects. It looks a mess, but we just do not get enough time to get it done quickly. Yes I could be doing it right now instead of blogging. Doh.
  • Pup 'swims up' from Beavers to Cubs tonight. I am somewhat concerned how he will get on in Cubs as he is not good at late nights (late= after 8pm!) and it runs until 8.30. Also he is quite immature in some ways and may not cope too well with the new regime. He does like older boys though, so it may do him good. 

  •  The Ginge is nearly one, and he he thinks he's a grown up cat. Except when he behaves like a dog. His favourite game is retrieve the mouse. This is best played when your people are in bed. 6am is a good time. (so he thinks) He brings a toy mouse onto the bed and drops it. Then he waits for one of us to throw it across the room. He'll find and retreive it unerringly within seconds even when it is completely dark (quite an achievement considering the piled up state of our bedroom floor). The worst time was when he chose to bring a live mouse instead. We refused to throw that one (spoilsports!) He is developing attitude, and starting to challenge the Monochrome cats dominance. She still cannot stand him. All the cat books say that it should take about six months for a resident cat to accept a new cat. Well they have not met Monocat. Stubborn is not her middle name. It is her identity, her defining feature.