The Trip

A few pics from our holidays. My laptop must be having a good day, it's actually downloading photographs at the moment!

  For half term we went to North Wales, and camped by the sea. It was a bit cold for swimming even for us, although everyone paddled and had beach time. But despite the temperature being a little lower than we'd have liked it was good camping weather, it did rain, but only at night. We all love to lie in our sleeping bags and listen to the rain! I think that was the highlight of the trip for Tigs.

  

  One highlight was a visit to Caernarvon Castle, with some hairaising running up and down spiral staircases.  I get nervous on those narrow stairs, oddly, although I can climb a mountain, no problems!

  
 We also climbed Snowdon. We were very proud of the boys for managing this! Himself and I used to do a lot of hill walking bk, but we haven't liked to push the boys too much, we don't want to put them off walking, so we make sure holidays are 'mixed activity' with lots of stuff to enjoy. But we are so pleased that our boy with Cystic Fibrosis is capable of achieving so much. He did struggle a bit on the way up, but we said to each other that each step was stamping on CF. We did a lot of stamping. And the route down was longer, with a 2 mile trudge out down a track at the end. I thought both boys would find it a drag, but they were excellent (although we did have a 'who can complain most creatively about their achy legs' competition - which I won!)

The boys insisted on buying swords and entertained everyone in the castle with some hand to hand fighting!

Mixed feelings

  We are all at a cafe, and the waitress looks at Pup and says to me "Doesn't he look just like you!"  She didn't know he was adopted so it was totally spontaneous.

  I usually don't know how to react to that sort of comment. At the time I just smiled and said "Yes he does." - because there is a likeness, and it was a completely natural comment. It feels good that we look like family. But it isn't always so easy. Some people who know they are not our birth children seem to make comments like that to make us feel 'better' about the boys being adopted. It seems to be a classic response, a sort of denial of the situation 'Oh but they can't be adopted, they look just like you!' or even 'But they look like they are yours.'  Well, they are adopted, and they are ours and they would be ours if they were green with purple spots.

  We were camping this week, and the family in the next tent to us had a little boy who was of such different appearance to his parents that it was obvious he was adopted or fostered. That must be hard for him, and for them sometimes. But a tiny part of me was a bit jealous ,  at least people would understand why if he had problems. Maybe I want people to know the boys are adopted? No that's not right: I want people to know that they are 'different' they have issues; that when they are running riot as they often do, and maybe screaming the house down, they are not just being naughty, but they are expressing some deeply felt emotions. That they are damaged kids, kids who struggle dreadfully with boundaries; which can make their behaviour very 'interesting' at times. I want to do what some parents of kids with autism do and buy the T-shirt. But I think they would both hit the roof if I asked them to wear a shirt that said

'I'm not naughty I'm adopted' 

 or maybe

 'I'm not naughty, my birth mum screwed my head up'

Maybe not :) 

  We are getting more hardened these days to being thought 'bad' parents for either over disciplining or letting them run riot.  Friends and family 'make allowances'. I'm glad they do... mostly. I'm glad we have people who understand. But it seems so unfair all round. However, as  Pup and I tell each other at least once a week, life isn't fair. But it is fun. And it would have been fun to tell that waitress that Pup was adopted just to throw her, and see her embarrassed reaction. We didn't, it's Pups business not hers, and anyway she was doing no harm by her throwaway comment. Pup didn't react at all, that sort of thing still goes way over his head, surprisingly.

Outrage

Sorry I cannot credit this picture, author unknown

I am outraged. About a hundred times a day about all sorts of things from the petty, like the package that arrives straitjacketed by sellotape and takes me ten minutes to open, to that dreadful killing in London yesterday.

bbc.co.uk/news/uk 

I can get very outraged in sitations that affect, or have affected me or my family directly - issues about adoption, disablility, Cystic Fibrosis. Like the situation at school this week when my son was told he couldn't use the disabled loo (the school deny this, but it is about what he believes he was told) That one got sorted. Apparently he can use it. Or about big issues, eg situations where it seems obvious to me that the Government is being manipulated by large companies in to making very poor decisions. Can I / should I do anything about it?

Yes I should, but HOW? And where to start? In the case of the sellotape, with a pair of scissors obviously and maybe some feedback to the sender asking them to consider how someone with arthriticky fingers is supposed to get into their parcels. In the case of school a polite email did the trick.

In the case of the Woolwich killing, I'm sure I'm not alone in being left with a lot of angry feelings and nowhere to direct them I wasn't there to help, I am not sure whether the media going over it and over it again and again will help. I am happy to sign petitions, to stand up and be counted as opposing such evil; but how can I fight it? In this case I cannot yet give an answer. I want to act, but only in a positive way.

One of the Woolwich killers is on record as saying - with his hands covered in blood  -"We must fight them as they fight us. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."

the killer speaks

I've got a quote on my wall that I found hilarious as a student, "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A fair rapid and satisfying way to an eyeless toothless world"  Yes - when no-one can see or eat there will be no more killing. And there'll be perfect peace - eventually.

 There has to be a better answer than vengeance. Not just revenge taken by those men that attacked an innocent young man who was minding his own business, but the sort of vengeance that attacks a country because there may be terrorists lurking there. We all need to learn forgiveness. Forgiveness for real and imagined injury. And I want to act to help the injured, and I don't want to fight.  

Grumbles

My Laptop sucks. 

  It gets slower and slower, and the error messages duplicate each day. It is a fairly elderly machine and I think it now has a few ghosts in it. I'm not computer savvy enough to fix it.

  I can't download pictures onto my blogs any more. I did start a 365 blog with a picture for every day... but it went west as no pics would download. It gets worse every day, somedays it gets within a whisker of being chucked out of the window. I try not to scream at it when the kids are around - not too hard as I can't be concentrating on it with them here; but I can't scream at other times as the boycat gets really upset if I shout, and he comes to bite me and miaow indignantly.

  I'm not so bothered about being unable to load pics of the boys. The way this blog has evolved I've become less happy about posting recognisable photos of them anyway. In fact I went through and deleted quite a few recently. There is too much information about them on here these days, I don't want them too recognisable. I assume those deleted pictures are still up there in the sky somewhere in Cloudland, but at least they are not so easy to find. This was never meant to be an adoption blog, or just about the boys, it was just my way of letting off steam. It does bother me I can't post my other pics because I like taking photos and am vain enough to want to show them off sometimes. Oh well.
 I am supposed to be saving up for an iPad or similar new toy, but since I just spent all my birthday money on new camera equipment instead of saving it I can't really complain. It seems odd to me how many of our friends have nice new laptops etc and no money. We've just got no money; like most people these days. Austerity bites. Austerity seems to have lockjaw and very sharp teeth at the moment. We do OK, we eat we have decent clothes, more importantly we can afford books; I should just stop complaining.

The Mummy of Doom

That's me.

  Although eldest son decided this afternoon that his new name for me was maybe a little harsh, so I am now 'Kind Mummy of Doom'. It doesn't really have the same ring, does it?  
I am not sure what all of my duties are as Mummy of Doom  (to be abbreviated to MoD), but one of them seems to be running after small boys on scooters. I haven't a hope of catching them unless they let me, so it is quite a frustrating role. I suppose I ought to go onto eBay to see if I can get hold of a genuine Ring of Doom or a light sabre of some kind. I assume that the well dressed MoD should also wear black, which is not really my colour.

  On a more serious note, we have had some 'interesting' behaviour from Tigs this week, and my stress levels have gone up considerably. In the last day or two it has calmed down, and school report improved behaviour there, which is encouraging. However Tigs himself is not happy with school. He has said several times recently that he isn't going into school because he has learned everything he needs to know in Year 1, and that his teacher just teaches the same things over and over again.  Having heard a couple of other Year 1 boys reading yesterday I can understand the problem, it is the usual situation where the teacher is trying to get all the kids in the class up to the required level by the end of the year; and is concentrating on the slower learners. Tigs is pretty 'sharp' although he is not at all an academic type.Since his reading is well ahead, and his writing has recently come on massively I can understand why he may be bored. The work that is being sent home for him is so easy we aren't bothering with it. And we have another term to get through. I just hope he doesn't become totally disaffected with school.

After the fight

"Mummy."

"Yes, Pup?"

"Mummy when you shout at me like that, it feels like you don't want me."

Cue totally floored, anguished Mum,  scrabbling around trying to think of an answer that will put everything right.....

"You know I want you, we always want you, Pup." (pretty feeble and inadequate,  but what else to say?)

"Yes I know that Mummy. It just makes me feel like you don't want me." 

Cue 'sorries' and cuddles.

Oh. Boy.

I can't promise never to shout at him again, although I can promise to try. Truly we don't get so much shouting these days, but things can get very tense around here and sometimes Himself and I get to the very end of our rope... and fall off.

And I can lie awake all night wondering what damage I'm doing to these already damaged kids, and hoping that in the end the good will outweigh the bad, and that I can be a good enough mum... And I can be very grateful that my son feels able to say things like that to me.

The best of times, the worst of times

 This weekend. How am I going to remember it?

The kids running and laughing in the glorious sunshine. Himself and Tigs tussling on the grass - who was laughing most?

Pup riding his horse independantly, me going to play badminton and swimming with a friend. 

Same friends have just given us their old (not that old!) wardrobe. I've wanted a big wardrobe for ages.

Gardening, eating al fresco. 

A picnic and a kite flying trip planned for tomorrow. 

Visiting 'Granny' (my Mum) and having a great time in the playground conveniently situated 2 minutes walk from her residential home.

Or Tigs having every single toy and book confiscated from his bedroom for what we feel was a very good reason. Don't worry, he has loads of toys and books downstairs, and he is going to earn the others back (or most of them!) He has already recovered 'Cat' his essential furry bedtime companion.
Or Pup getting in a terrible state this morning and being sick everywhere including my bed.

Both boys having so much trouble doing  even the smallest task without being reminded over and over and over.....

Me losing my temper big time with Pup (we have kissed and made up).
Big errors made by our surgery in prescribing Pups drugs, I am nearly reduced to tears weekly by the persistent mistakes they keep making with his prescriptions. Can I keep fighting them? I have to, but it is so wearing.

Worrying about my Mum, who is not in best health.

  

I took photos of the fun times, I always try and take pics of good moments, so the boys have their happiest memories reinforced. But some things we don't record, except maybe in my diary.

Every weekend, every day, is a roller coaster here. I suppose it is the same for all families, but sometimes for us the troughs seem so deep, and the peaks so rare. I'm tired deep down, so is Himself.  But we get by.