FRAMED

Nanny notes (London, Courchevel) - a potentially fatal ski trip

This nanny tale is about the sort of family that have loads of money, but don't want to spend any of it... Those that can afford to take four children, themselves, plus the help, all skiing to France for a week. But then insist on dinner coming too. Read on... 

Picture this: The family, (mum, dad and four kids) plus me the skivvy nanny, are all packed up and ready to go skiing. A chalet in Courchevel awaits.

Suitcase after suitcase is lined up on the pavement next to the Chelsea des res, waiting for cabs to the airport. 

The kids (8,6,4 & 2years) are excited. Me? Well, behind my smile, I'm gloomily wondering if we're all about to die of food poisoning. You see, half the luggage is frozen food.

5 reasons not to get a hamster...

This comment from Sara (http://mumturnedmom.wordpress.com) 
Sara Murray12 May 2013 21:48
Ha, love it, good luck :) Current request from my 6yo is for a hamster... #PoCoLo

left on my recent fishy tail post, inspired today's rodent rant: 

FIVE REASONS NOT TO GET A HAMSTER 

Replies

1. 
   Emma Oliver13 May 2013 07:07

   1) They bite. (I'm very grumpy too when woken from chasmic sleep). 

   2) They feel as if they may break when holding them too tightly. (I can remember Esme as a very excited three-year-old strangling a friend's hamster: almost to a bone crushed state).  

   3) They can have bad habits. (The hamster that belonged to my bro - called Jimmy I believe - had quite a neat trick that my mum called a bad habit. He would zoom round in his wheel and poop at the same time, resulting in said pellet, flying out the cage at jaw-poop-dropping rate).

   4) They can break free. (Years ago I was nannying, and went on hols with the family. They left my then partner in charge of the children's beloved hamster. The then partner went out for the eve, but before doing so put the hamster inside its perspex play ball. When he got back from the pub much later, he walked in finding the plastic ball in two pieces AND, shock, horror, the hamster missing). 

   5) They can hibernate and not wake up. (Charlene - the bitch hamster from my childhood that used to draw blood from my pudgy little fingers, did just this. Mum only realised when that corner of the room began to hum).

   #PoCoLo indeed. Thanks for commenting Sara x

My family and other animals (if fancy fish weren't enough).

E: Mummy look I've found a slug.

M: What?

E: A slug Mummy, I've found a slug. On the floor. Here.

M: Really? Where? Not in the house? Not first thing in the morning? Oh Lord.

E: Yes Mummy, and look. It is definitely a leopard slug, it has spots on its back. Mummy?

M: Great. 

E: It's a lovely one.

M: (Thinking: How very Gerald Durrell of you darling). Did the slug get rid of the ants?

E: No. Slugs eat greens.

M: I need a coffee. And some kitchen roll. And a camera, that's huge...

DOG - NO! FISH - YES! (Fancy ones at that).

Over one month ago...

Esme: Can I have a dog?
Me: No.

Four weeks ago...

Esme: I can't have a cat can I Mummy, you're allergic...
Me: That's right.

Three weeks ago...

Esme: Can I have a fish?
Daddy: Mummy will have to clean it out...

Two weeks ago...

The tank without fish

It was all rather exciting when the fish tank arrived. The filter, weed and water were installed. And then it had to sit. And we had to wait. Something to do with the fish going into a PH balance that wouldn't cause them a Pretty Harsh imbalance. (For we all know that an off-balance fish is heading straight down the loo).

The girls have been sat looking at the tank without fish all week. Who would have thought that an empty fish tank could hold their attention such as? I did begin to wonder, should I bother putting fish in at all?

And the fish with a tank

New arrivals, Tallulah & Frederick

Anyway, one week ago I did, and we now have fancy fish. Here are two of the five being carefully introduced to their new home. (The others are stripe-like-pipe-like teeny things which I'm praying won't get eaten). They shouldn't get eaten should they? They get enough food - but not too much. Oh the responsibility! Feeding them all is exciting. The fish certainly seem to get excited at breakfast time. And before you think I've gone soft, actually, the fish man at Haslemere Aquatics (now he knows a thing or two), informed me that fish are intelligent.

Fish myths & feelings

On asking the aquatics chap, were we buying the right amount of fish - too many - overcrowding? - too little - companionship issues? I joked, "Everyone knows that a goldfish has a memory of 0.3 seconds, so should I really care?" He reprimanded, "That's actually not true. Fish have a consciousness." I stopped grinning immediately. (Or really tried hard to). So there you have it. You heard it here first: fish have feelings. 

Fish guts brains

I'm concerned that they're concerned. Are they worried every time Fia (my mischeivous toddler) approaches their abode? Hand outstretched, banging on the glass, rudely awakening them, all the while squealing with delight. Hey - she's a work in progress. Darla and Twinkle twinkle little star! springs to mind. I'll push the tank out of reach a little more.

Fish are friends, not food

Finding Nemo is a fave film so there's been one or two lines this week that I couldn't help but quote. But I've began to wonder, are fish our friends? Certainly, with Tallulah & Frederick, once their initial nervous behaviour was over, clearly down to a) settling into their smaller, less crowded abode, and b) realising the toddler that kept making a grab for them was actually unable to get to them, they've seemed to happily swim up and greet us, whenever we arrive down, fresh from slumber, cheerily saying "Morning Tallulah, morning Frederick, morning you other pipe-y-stripe-y ones." *

Think twice before going for a dog

A dog, man's best friend... pah! A fish though, for sure! I would definitely say don't get a dog, but do go for a goldfish any day, as it would appear there's a bit more to the whole fish thing than first meets the eye. 

Next time you peer in to a fish tank, remember that they're peering right back at you, and that they're either thinking, "Hello. How do you do?" or "Oh why don't you just sod off!" How very human of them.

*That'll be the kids then, I'm never cheery 'til I've had my caffeine fix.

A new all time low

This evening my girls are competing to see who can have the best super-strop.

It is actually quite difficult to gauge which one is winning.

 I may just have to join in and claim first prize...

Thought-provoking sister Kate (4) and a remedy for burns

Sister Kate lives in Ecuador. She lives a most health-orientated lifestyle and sends the most thought-provoking emails. Her latest is a natural remedy for burns. Read on...

When it comes to First Aid for burns, most of us know to put cold water on the burn to reduce the burning sensation before you do anything else. But how many of us know about the following treatment: to apply egg whites? 

Apparently, after spraying or running cold water on to the burn, if you apply egg whites to the affected area, it will help the healing process. 

The albumin solution (which if you can think about it in the panic, ought to be whisked a little), dries to form a protective layer. 

Once it has dried, you then apply another layer. And so on. And so forth.

These layers help to remove the heat from the burn, as well as heal the burn naturally and effectively. 

And how? Because apparently, egg white is a natural collagen. 

Brilliant!

Even more down to earth with a bump (6)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK SIXTEEN 

Simon and I saw the midwife half way through the week and it was just wonderful to hear the wee ones heartbeat. I find hearing the heartbeat far more emotional than seeing the scan. Anyway, as you can imagine, we were so relieved. And finally, we actually began to relax. 

Simon was so excited. He sent me a text from work after the scan exclaiming, ‘We are having a baby!’ - emphasis on 'are' - you see, after all the disappointment, we had not let ourselves as a couple acknowledge it was all going to be okay. To us, this precise moment was pure joy, finally admitting to each other that the reality was, we were having another baby, and everything was fine. 

Only hours later, I sat crying on the bathroom floor. 

I'd found a small amount of blood in my underwear. I wiped my eyes and decided to ignore it. After all, I'd been there before and knew there was not a lot they could do about it if I was losing this baby too.

The next morning, there was more blood and no matter how much I wanted to, I could not pretend it wasn't there any longer. In the back of my mind, I knew it was useless. On autopilot, I resigned myself at that point to another round of heartache. I remained oddly calm and took myself to the doctors... 

...where they couldn’t find a heartbeat. It was definitely not looking likely now. But it didn’t make any sense, they had found it so quickly only two days before. We'd heard it. My own heart beat twice as fast and twice as loud, as I contemplated the silence of the baby, the doctor, and the sterile room.

Calm kicked in more so. I had to go to hospital and wasn’t allowed to drive, but a friend offered to drop me. She got cross waiting at home with me as I took my time, finishing an important document for work before surrendering to her passenger seat and the onslaught I was afraid would follow. From this point on I was a passenger in someone else's day. Watching on helpless. Calm to the point of serene.

At hospital, Simon was already waiting. He met me outside. "Here we go again," was all he said. We held hands. Firmly. And walked through the sliding doors.

We were soon greeted by a midwife. Matter of factly she said, ‘You know if it is a miscarriage, there is nothing we can do about it.’ Through silent tears I asked, ‘Would I be able to have an operation this time?' 

I was told to wait and see what the scan would bring. 

Fortunately, amazingly, it brought a bouncing bean and a low placenta. The placenta was in front of our baby and this had made it difficult for the doctor to pick up a heartbeat. It may have also explained the bleed, but probably not. Not at 16 weeks anyway. So mine was simply a warning sign. Slow down. I would definitely try. HA! Easier said than done with a two and a half year old.

FOOTNOTE: Pregnant women can sometimes bleed due to a low lying placenta. This condition is called 'placenta praevia’ and may occur from 24 weeks of pregnancy.

Exhausted via constant demand (toddler & I).

The day began at 5.30am. Again.

The day began with a tub of nappy creme being smeared around the bathroom. And a battle fighting to keep the hot tap shut off versus running furiously fast.

The day ended with big sister's school bag being submerged in the bathtub. And one of Daddy's socks.

In between, everything was mostly a tantrum, a 'no', or a smack (her not me).

In between, she consumed a variety of stuff that she should not have done: soap, chalk, pen tips, mud.

In between, she lost the use of her legs and demanded to be carried most places (until she reached the fun places such as the trampoline that is). 

Indeed, all day she demanded. And all day, I tried my best to ignore. To cuddle. To praise. Each in turn, when they were demanded.

And now she sleeps. Peaceful. 

No doubt, like myself, she is exhausted via constant demand. 

And I already know I've met the same conclusion I usually meet at this point in an evening.

Simply... I'm too old for this shit.

FOOTNOTE: Good job she's adorable.

Even more down to earth with a bump (5)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy

WEEK THIRTEEN

For several days this week, nausea and vomiting have let me be. What a wonderful relief. This morning however I felt sick again, so I’m not out of the woods yet, although it is slowly improving. My legs continue to itch on and off – but that's also notably better. And the insomnia too, I'm only waking to wee once or twice a night now. All in all, everything is improved.

WEEK FOURTEEN

Got sinusitis, that sucks. But my physical symptoms are nothing compared to how I'm feeling emotionally this week. It's tough as my Gran who I was so incredibly close to, passed away. Struck by sadness, my LIFE AS IT IS is suddenly overwhelmingly colourless. 

WEEK FIFTEEN

I started finally sleeping this week as my sinus trouble has slowly improved. It's so rubbish being pregnant and unable to take any drugs man. Still, was only sick once this week, so that's great. Although the flip side is I'm really quite worried. I have no other symptoms of pregnancy at all. That's odd. And I'm so desperately sad about Gran too. I cannot wait to hear the heartbeat at the Midwife’s visit next week.

One day after writing this - and one day prior to being 16weeks pregnant - I felt my baby moving. A quickening. Little bubbles. A flicker of joy amidst the grieving gloom.

TODDLER ANTICS My feral child (no.2)

It would appear the ants that have been marching 2x2 for ages, have finally retreated. (Probably something to do with the powder that was put down outdoors). Shame. I'm going to miss Sofia laying down on the floor and licking them up. 

FRAMED

Kyoto Kitchen, Winchester

Kyoto Kitchen
70, Parchment St
Winchester
Hants
SO23 8AT
01962 890895
kyotokitchen.co.uk

FRAMED

Winchester Fashion Show 

A winning weekend in Winchester

The strangest thing; winning that radio competition. I found out Friday Simon and I would be off to Winchester the very next day, and only a day before, I'd been on air telling my story to the whole of the south. But it was the evening before that, when quite out of the blue relatives had rung to say: "We're coming to have the kids for you on Saturday; you never get a break." Imagine my delight, when not only did I win the prize, but the sitter was already booked! And I never enter competitions... So yes, it was the strangest thing. The planets had aligned. 

Saturday morning the grandparents arrived early, and we left early. Winchester via Sat Nav is a novel travel experience. Back roads twist and tangle, passing thatched cottages and farmland in turn. The Hampshire countryside is at its best in the early morning sunshine and one gets a sense of Austen's territory. It is just beautiful.

I tried not to let my Sat Nav prejudice ruin our run and resulted in following Simon in following his toy. (I did wonder where the hell it was taking us though and if I would be sat in the hairdresser hot seat on time?). Half an hour on, about to sit in said hot seat, I swallowed my pride, agreeing yes it was not only the prettiest way - but also (grrrr) apparently, the fastest too. 

MENTAL NOTE: Is it just us, or does Sat Nav cause other couples such grief? 

And the sun came out!

It's lovely having warmer weather. We have been outside more than inside most of the week, and that's been wonderful. People are smiling and generally LIFE AS IT IS for everyone, is on the up. I love Winter, but I love Summer more!

The downside is that work is mad at the moment, (all good - I cannot complain), but finding yourself at a desk looking out to the blue skies is rubbish. Good job I'm able to work in the evenings is all I can say, for I've let a lot of the desk sitting be done when the sun has disappeared. Priorities right?!

Additional work has meant that I've not read a book I was supposed to have. My mates have organised a book club (how very grown-up - I must be in my 40's) and it is due to meet this coming week. I am only as far as chapter four. The wine and nibbles will compensate for not joining in with the review, girls - I apologise in advance.

You would have thought I could have read the book throughout our Easter holiday, but no, I was too busy doing nothing... We had a lovely break in Cornwall and the time away was heaven sent. Cornwall is a corner of the country that I would love to explore a whole lot more. I've learnt that beach days are sometimes best when cold, and flying kites with a 4yo and a 19mo is a brilliant way to pass the time. While there though, I could have done without the minor concussion... must remember for future reference that cottages have low doors!

Have been gardening since we got back and spring cleaning in general. What is it about having a good clear out? It gives you so much energy. So much energy, that although I have had to work so much, and not read a book so much, I found the time to enter a competition on local radio. Well, you'd never guess... I only went and won it. Amazing. It is true, you have to be in it to win it.

Tomorrow, the OH and I are off to be thoroughly spoilt: lunch/dinner/champers/hair&makeover (that's me) and general pampering for the whole day and night. Doesn't get much better than that, does it? So yes, the sun is shining. And it would appear it is shining down on me. 

Must dash... I'm off to buy a lottery ticket!

FURTHER TRAVEL TALES: Blessed in Bangkok

In a near forgotten past and in a life before children, there was a young girl who wandered without bags under her eyes but with a bag on her back. Here she returns to notes she made while visiting Bangkok. Oriental city and complete chaos... 

 

I make for the canal and pass Wat Poh, Wat Phra Kaew and the Grand Palace on route. A royal bombast, they represent Thailand’s history and architectural experimentation. Polished orange and green roof tiles bedeck their colourful treasures. Gold features heavily. Mosaic encrusted pillars and deluxe marble compliment extensive murals and statues. It is an aesthetic orgy whose rich appearance contrasts with the bright blue sky and the beggars beyond. 

The water taxi can wait. For the lure of such elaborate beauty is hard to resist. I cover my shoulders for the Reclining Buddha, who apparently blesses me as I light him a candle. The mood within is purely spiritual and the aroma of incense encourages the calmness. Three young boys, heads shaved and orange robed, walk serenely by. My gaze follows their direction and I notice a sign for the massage school.

Wat Poh is the national head quarters for the teaching and preservation of traditional Thai massage and medicine. Wandering in to a large room littered with bodies, it isn’t long before I too, lie on a mat that may as well not be there. The next hour I am pushed and pulled in directions alien to my now backpack styled slouch. The masseur means business. Her tiny hands work fast and hard. Her size betrays her strength. She cracks the vertebrae all the way up my spine, she doesn’t stop there and it feels as though my neck is doubling in length.

There are lots of locals here. Their voices remain at a melodic hush. It is apparent that this is a school of healing and not just relaxation. People are here for help. The Thai woman lying beside me yelps out loudly in pain. It is rather alarming. The two masseurs nod at each other. I am sure I observe ever such a slight smile between them. It is as though they are in competition. The one working on me kneels on my inner thigh. I grimace slightly.  Then I float.  

On the water taxi I feel so relaxed from my massage, I dreamily gaze over to the bank, not hearing the noise of the engine or smelling its smoking diesel. The canal meanders alongside lush greenery, teak houses on stilts and more temples.

A sudden movement catches my eye. A man holds an eel he has just caught in his hands. The water is brown and thick and he clambers out of it onto the make shift raft of four drum canisters supporting a piece of iron. He replaces his flip-flops, and climbs up the rubber-tire stairway to street level, dripping and clutching his catch. In the next tiny inlet, a young girl sits, washing clothes. 

Glancing down over the side of the boat I reflect: Quite clearly Thailand’s riches are not simply to be found within its palaces and temples. Momentarily the girl looks up at the busy water taxi passing by, then, continues with her work. I cannot see any soap powder. All I see are thousands of television aerials, surrounding a massive Coca-cola sign suspended high above her. The consumerist West invades my daydream. And then I'm moving again - this time in a taxi on the road.

Even more down to earth with a bump (4)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy -

WEEK NINE

The nausea and vomiting continue. They are such great signs I cannot ever complain – and I wont – but it is so tiring. On top of already being tiring. I read that even when you are resting at this stage, it is as if you are mountain climbing.

WEEK TEN

I've got itchy legs and often wake up through the night scratching them. If not I wake up to wee. Oh and when I don't wake up, it's because I'm already awake. Yes, the insomnia continues to eat in on my nights. However, I do think that overall, things are improving.

 

WEEK ELEVEN

Ha! This morning I threw up four times in a lay-by trying to take Esme, my two-year-old to nursery. As I hung out the driver door, I could hear her enquiring, "Mummy, Mummy." Each time I tried to respond, I puked some more. Unpleasant.

This week is an important milestone for me. Last pregnancy I got to this very point, and began bleeding. Two days on I lost that little being.

WEEK TWELVE

It is a great feeling - not only to have made it beyond the point of our miscarriage - but also to have had our 12 week scan. It's amazing to know that all is well with our baby. 

Our baby is measuring two inches long.

Our baby is sucking its thumb. 

Our baby has its legs crossed. 

Our baby is sat in the very bottom of my uterus.

Our baby is looking like it's snoozing in a hammock. 

Our baby is a bloody wonder.

Our baby.

Even more down to earth with a bump (3)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy -

WEEK SIX

Welcome to pregnancy. 

I've noticed nausea creeping in over the last few days and this morning I was really constipated. Lovely!

My stomach is absolutely huge - already, and it is very difficult to hide the fact that I’m pregnant. None of my clothes fit comfortably, and most of them I can't wear anymore. It was the same with Esme's pregnancy, and the subsequent miscarriage, and it's as astonishing to me now, as it was then. What is that all about? Oh and also, my tits have begun their ascent into Kahunaville.

I've an early scan booked in for a couple of weeks time because of my miscarriage history. On one hand it can't come quick enough and on the other, I'm dreading it.

WEEK SEVEN

Great news! I've thrown up two days on the trot. YEY! It’s such a good sign, but still I’m worried about the scan next week. I’m so scared we won’t see a heartbeat. I keep having flashbacks to last time. It hasn't helped that this morning I woke up feeling normal. Not pregnant at all. My boobs were no longer tender, my tummy looked flat again, and worst of all, I no longer felt sick. I've all but convinced myself that I’m losing it.

 xxxx

One day to go until the scan and thank God I threw up this morning. Vomiting gave me the courage to do another test. I was shaking as I peed on the stick – but yes, there are definitely two lines to see, not one. If only we could bottle 'relief'.

WEEK EIGHT

We had the scan this morning. 

There was a heartbeat; it flashed away like E.T.'s in zipped up plastic bag state.

It is 13mm long and looks normal at this stage. 

Deep breath. 

Thank God.

It must have been the fairy?

Sofia is smiling again. Yes, indeed, larger than life she's back, and not only that, it would appear the fairies have been in...

So this morning Esme Grace (gregarious 4YO) decided to dress Sofia Faith (mischievious 18MO) in the Tinkerbell outfit. I have to say it looked somewhat un-Tink-like though, for prior to being dragged out of the dress-up box for the second child's leap into imaginary play, it had already served one child's lifetime of fairy quota. It's grotty to say the least. 

Not threadbare thou, yet, but clearly that won't be long. Honestly, the way it was hoisted and inched over Fia is beyond me. I'm not sure I could have squished her in it. Esme obviously managed, down to her basic bossiness. But then Sofia is so much more compliant for her big sister. (Little moo)!

How much bigger is Sofia than Esme at the same age? Don't compare your second to your first so the saying goes, but sod the saying - it's too easy to look back and compare in our household, for they are exactly three years apart, give or take two days. And Fia is so much taller. Truly I love that she is of Amazonian stature already, her blond Boris locks self-twisted to dreds and sticking out all angles, adding to her overall dimensions. 

So tall yes, plump no. Rather solid. Solid to the point that the Tinkerbell dress over her pj's and a cardi, when stretched over her torso looked like a sausage skin at the butchers; fully loaded. Adorably hilarious! Plus a ruddy cheeked smile that made the trauma of the last few weeks melt away.

I'm guessing it must have been something to do with fairy magic?

An hour later, Tinkerbell was sat smiling, surrounded by soil, complete with mud in her mouth, skew-whiff wings, having pushed over a poinsettia. So yes, Sofia is back. 

And I'm so very thankful.

My delicious girl is back

It's been a while; I've been enjoying my two daughters immensely over the last few days and blog writing has taken a backseat. As it should when you are reminded so sullenly about their precious beings and just what they mean to you; what is un and what is im portant. So with that in mind, I'm keeping it short, but just to say, yey! I've got my delicious girl back. There's colour in her cheeks again... A brightness in her eyes... A fire in her belly... An oomph in her thwack! Gotta love that.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR much-loved COMMENTS!

I just wanted to say a big THANK YOU to all of you that have ever left a comment on LIFE AS IT IS but especially for all the well wishes that have accumulated today on the post regarding Sofia and her fight with pneumonia, her colour drained, her mischieviousness disappeared. 

I'm not sure why every time I reply to a comment it simply disappears - perhaps it is from when LIFE AS IT IS was hacked, perhaps it is down to my archaic mac, perhaps I've done something silly with the settings, yes perhaps it is me simply being the techy twit that I am?!

What I do know is that I have tried to respond to say thank you to you all for your lovely comments on the GraceFaith blog and to let you know that Sofia Faith is much better again today.

After Monday's improvements, Tuesday I was very disappointed as she was laid out again, Wednesday she was up and down, then yesterday stronger and today even more so. She is definitely heading in the right direction now. I had pneumonia in 2006 and remember the two steps forward, one step back nature of the illness as far as recovery... 

I will only know she is 100% when she climbs back on the dining room table again, and yes, I'll be sure to share that with you. In the meantime, thank you for reading, but most of all for commenting. 

It is lovely getting to know the blogging community. Now have yourselves a great weekend ;-) 

Emma x

PS I've gone mad and ordered a new Mac, so let's hope the not being able to reply is soon a thing of the past!

Musings of a 4YO

The following was literally all spoken in the space of a few minutes on a post peaches and custard teatime high. One question: Is it any wonder that us parents are so shagged all the time?

 

Mummy, I really really wanted to have glasses, but now I've decided it is a lot boring. They are hurting me. They only hurt me when they are on my nose too much. It really really hurts in school because they are on my face all the time. 

Next breath:

Mummy, when I am ten, I would like to be Connor's brother and live with him. And I want there to be Connor's mummy and daddy and my mummy and daddy living there too.

Next breath:

Mummy, do you remember when they had stickers at the doctor's and I was allowed one?

Next breath:

Hello mummy, I'm scooting and I've just run over an ant. I'm going to see Fia. I can whack her with my lightsaber.

Next breath:

Where's granny's card? Nevermind, I can make granny's card... Mummy I need dark pink...

Her colour drained, her mischieviousness disappeared.

A post before the children wake. It's been a great night's sleep. Unusual in this house of late. But I hope that means that the latest antibiotic Sofia Faith has been taking, along with the steroids and inhalers, have helped her over her month long illness. 

We were back at the GP's yesterday to discuss why the duty doctor sent us to Hospital on Saturday, the chest xray results and the pneumonia Sofia's been fighting. Poor lamb. She has been very unwell. A spiking temperature has plagued her, along with a dreadful cough - at times this has been her only movement, otherwise laid out on my lap, listless, limp. 

I only got the seriousness of it all when she could no longer cry with the usual furor. Instead a sad whimpering pleaded with me, her eyes looking for mine continually, wanting reassurance that only I could give - or pretend to give. 

Sofia has been an extension of me for almost four weeks, sat on my hip as I would cook, sat on my hip as I took Esme to school, sat on my lap at all other times, even sometimes sat on my lap as I would wee. 

Yesterday however, she found a toy to play with in the morning, all by herself, and I could see her cheeks had the tiniest tinge of pink to them, her eyes a hint of brightness - and was that the merest moment of mischieviousness there my girl as you went to drink our good friend's cup of cold mint tea off the side? I hope so Fia. I really do, it will be good to have you back again!

Even more down to earth with a bump (2)

Continuing my record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy -


WEEK FOUR

God my boobs are tender. And they look bigger too. 

My stomach is totally bloated and my emotions are all heightened.

I'm two days late. Dare I do a test? It’s always so disappointing. 

What the hell I will. 

OMG. There are two pink lines on the stick. That’s amazing. 

And would you believe it? If you read the previous posting of 'Even more down to earth with a bump' (1), you will know I’ve just had my hair cut. Flippin’ heck!

WEEK FIVE

Ok so I know I’m thrilled to be pregnant, but I’m only five weeks (literally just) and already the symptoms are kicking in. It is 2am and I have come down to get some warm milk in the hopes that it will have a soporific effect.

I woke to wee at midnight and have been awake ever since. Apparently insomnia is common for many women in this stage of pregnancy. Tomorrow night I will eat a banana before going to bed. Natural yogurt and seeds are also supposed to help?

Oh the fun. Already. And I have an absolutely stinking cold – it isn’t helping that I can’t take any drugs for that.

I'm also concerned about the supplements I’ve been taking to try and fall pregnant. Now that I am up the duff, should I be on all of them? Probably not, I'll stop them, but I'm sure that they, and the cranial osteopath I’ve recently seen, are the reason I’m sitting here wide awake in the middle of the night right now.

Enough is enough, back to bed to try again. 

xxxxx

I've done three more pregnancy tests this week. 

They still all say positive. 

I'm finding it difficult to believe them; they're taunting me. 

Secretly I'm terrified.

Fresh out of bed musings of a 4YO

E: Mummy, I'm the most beautiful little girl aren't I?

M: Yes, darling you are.

E: Yes, more beautiful than all the others.

M: Well I think so. But Esme, let me tell you... all the other mummy's think that their little girl's are the most beautiful. And when you have a little girl one day, you will think that she is the most beautiful. It's all to do with loving them so much.

Esme ponders and coming up to kiss me, says,

E: But you are the most beautiful of all the mummy's.

That's how to start the day. And it's Friday ;-)

What have you done today to make you feel proud?

Why not bid for a Real Madrid ball signed by the likes of Ronaldo, Pepe and Kaka?

March 21st is World Down Syndrome Awareness Day and my local Down Syndrome support group, Stepping Stones DS will be auctioning a football signed by the Real Madrid squad. 

The auction will run for ten days on Ebay, concluding on March 21st at 21.03, the date and time signifying the third and additional chromosome present in people with Down syndrome.

By auctioning the ball that was kindly donated by the Real Madrid Shirt sponsor BWin, Stepping Stones DS hope to raise both awareness and funds, the money providing ball skills sessions for the children for a further year. The importance of these sessions is to help improve gross motor skills and self confidence.

Keep in touch with the auction at https://www.facebook.com/steppingstonesds or aim straight for Ebay, at 'Real Madrid signed footbal.'

Bag lady, hives and where the hell did Spring go?

I realised today that I was dressed like a bag lady - it is so cold. Not a good look. Glad I didn't have to go out. Was in all day with toddleritis. AGAIN. Why is it that small children get sick in the Winter months? It's downright miserable when it's so cold you can't get out to air their germs for long. It has been three weeks now of interrupted sleep, where if it hasn't been one, it has been the other. It all began with teething, chased by bad dreams, followed by a double ear infection, and a virus from school which involved tummy ache and high temps, (still dropping like flies), and now a sneezy cold that results in snot stained sheets like you would not believe. Then last night we hit an all time low and she had an allergic reaction, vomiting and barking while the hives rose on her face. Not sure what set that off. Not the antibiotics - she's been on Amoxycillin once before - oh yes, she's struggling with a chest infection, did I forget that? So she's fighting the rugby ball spacer for the Ventolin several times a day as well. That's a scrum I could do without. And lastly, I ponder on the fact that she may well be harbouring chickenpox (for I ran in to a neighbour whose little one Fia mingles with, is riddled). Three weeks of crap sleep. Ha, is it any surprise that I'm looking like a bag lady? Must try harder. And to think I thought Spring had sprung this time last week...

Esme gets glasses (2)

Having collected Esme's new glasses we returned home for supper. Shortly afterwards, Esme discovered an ant on the floor. 

'Mummy, I've seen a very clever ant. It's done a handstand and then flipped over and landed on its back,' her glasses clearly working well.

At bedtime, I labelled the case and put them in her book bag ready for their first trip out to school the next day. 

Next morning, we were very nearly late to class, for on the way she had to stop and show off her glasses to every single parent she knew.  

Walking in, Esme beamed with pride at her teacher. She opened the case and oops, they fell on the floor. Quickly retrieved and carefully placed upon her pretty nose (with seemingly exaggerated arm movement), they seemed to sparkle. Was it my imagination or so too did Esme?

When I heard the teacher ask her if she wanted to tell the other children about her glasses, I knew it was time for me to head off. I watched Esme nod enthusiastically before kissing her goodbye. Reluctantly, I took both my toddler and my leave.

Esme holding court, called out a brief and cheery goodbye. I knew my girl would be just fine. I on the other hand walked home cuddling in Sofia and trying not to blub; brimming with pride at the way in which Esme was taking it all in her stride.

The day passed and I was soon there to pick Esme up. As she appeared in the line of children, I had to do a double take. She didn't look like my Esme. I felt a pang. All the other mums oohed and aahed as she came towards me. I felt another pang. We had a big hug. She burst in to tears. 

Home again and she was tired, she had a slight temperature. I put her on the sofa and put CBeebies on the tele. I watched Esme uncurl on her side with her head awkwardly upon the frame's metal arm. Said limb not looking half as sparkly now; just uncomfortable. They may yet take some getting used to after all.

My bespectacled beauty

Almost a week on I realise that even if Esme has taken no time at all settling in to her new glasses, for me, it's been a slightly different matter. The relief I felt that Esme was happy to wear them was immediate, but looking at her wearing them, has taken a little longer. God, she looks so grown-up!

Esme Grace only really has one thing to contend with as far as adapting to wearing them, and that is her little mischievious sister. Sofia Faith can be found waiting for an opportune moment to lunge and grab the specs from Esme's nose. Esme yells, Fia screams, all hell breaks loose and Fia is left with her disgruntled Winston Churchill frown, and Esme pious - in the way that only a glass wearer knows how to be. Spec envy is not something I ever envisaged having to referee, but I am. And so LIFE AS IT IS moves on, with the Grace half of the blog now seeing things a little more clearly.

Esme gets glasses (1)

Esme has gone to school today wearing glasses for the first time. I didn't see that coming - no pun intended. Seriously, Simon or myself never had any trouble with our eyes as children. I now need glasses for reading, computer work and close up stuff - but isn't that normal after turning 40?

We had an inkling after Esme failed the school eye examination. When I asked her about it, she'd said, 'Mummy, some of the letters were teeny weeny, I struggled to see them.' 

Talking it through over breakfast, I'd told her we would need to see an eye doctor. She barely let me finish my sentence: 'Oh good Mummy. I hope that means I need glasses. I would like pink ones with owls on them.' What a girl!

The first time we went to the opticians, she had an issue with the gymnastics kit she was wearing and the shiny leatherette chair. If she wasn't slipping off the seat, then the cyborg head gear was slipping off her. It came as no surprise that the test was inconclusive. 

The second time we went to the opticians, Esme was going to have eye drops in each eye to dilate the pupils and relax the muscles. It prevents the eye moving constantly around - as a 4YO's would- and gives the optometrist the opportunity to check more thoroughly.

Esme was good as gold. She allowed the second eye drop in without argument, even though the first had clearly stung. Oh the lure of a cupcake. Ten minutes later she sat devouring one, sunglasses in situ to prevent any unwanted glare in to her now open and consistently wide pupils. She looked as if she was at a rave and I was tempted for a moment to bust some Bob Builder style, big fish little fish cardboard box moves.

Sponge and sugar icing later, holding on to the seat once more, the verdict was delivered. Esme will need glasses to prevent her straining and to help her eyes develop properly. She is long-sighted. 

Esme grinned from ear to ear and took no time at all in choosing her frames, clearly delighted at the prospect. Meanwhile, my mind was flipping cartwheels...

How could this be? Is it down to her birth and the trauma of the ventouse delivery? Has she suffered with headaches? Would she have been struggling, and (typical Esme) dealing with it quietly, all the time thinking it was normal? Would she always need glasses? Would she be bullied at school as a consequence? That evening, I cried silent tears for all the questions left hanging.

A few days later, lens fitted, we were back at the shop to try them on for size. I smiled at my still very little girl. She smiled right back, her bespectacled beauty now in front of me holding a mirror to see herself wearing them for the first time. Her response to said reflection was equally as gorgeous: Esme carefully placed the mirror down and then actually skipped right through the middle of the shop. (Her skipping has been at that not quite in sync stage forever, but the afternoon's happiness factor seemed to compensate for something, and she skipped perfectly). 

 And the glasses? She didn't want to take them off. Which was probably just as well.

Is that the first daff in the garden I see before me?

OMG I think Spring may have sprung?

We are loving the blue skies and sunshine.

Hope that you are too?

Children and the importance of praise

Something that Esme (my musing 4YO) said last night has bothered me. She told me that a child in her year had whispered to her, "I'm not very good at anything." When I asked Esme what her response had been, she shrugged and said, "I didn't say anything Mummy." Of course she didn't, for this is beyond a 4YO's emotional and social capacity. I took a positive angle, and said to Esme, 'What nonsense. For starters, we know that XXXX is good at running.' And indeed, I bet that child is good at lots of things. Though perhaps they just aren't told enough.

It got me thinking about the importance of praise and how negative reinforcement can have a thoroughly disabling effect on a child. From babyhood through toddlerhood, we ought to remember (and if you like, train ourselves) to offer an explanation each time we say no, to distract and move on positively. And to our pre-schoolers and rising fives, we ought to remember to calmly remove them from what they are doing that is wrong, or tell them what they're saying is not appropriate, and then talk about it afterwards, reinforcing the good at all times.

First of all, it disturbs me that this little person already feels this way. Secondly, I'm surprised that a 4YO can voice this - ie it almost sounds like it has been said to this child and the child is repeating it. I hope I'm wrong. Low self-esteem at any age is worrying, but at age four? One thing is for certain, if this child is struggling in the classroom environment, maybe he or she needs extra help. In the meantime, we all ought to be concentrating on the very things our children are good at.

There's a line in the fab fairytale film 'Pretty Woman,' where Julia Robert's character says, 'If you get put down enough, you start to believe it.' It is true. Do not under-estimate the way in which your child believes every single word you say. And never under-estimate, the power of positive reinforcement.

A quick 'n' tasty dish for the children tonight?

I've never cooked this before and was delighted when Esme (4YO) and Sofia (17MO) both cleared their bowls. It is a variation on pasta bake, and yes, I didn't have any pasta! But in all honestly, I never thought it would work quite so well!

You will need:

Rice

Sweetcorn (frozen)

Tin of toms (half)

Chopped courgette (half)

Tin of tuna

Squirt of ketchup

Cheese to top

How easy is this dish?

Cook the rice, add the corn. In a frying pan cook the courgette, add the toms and the tuna. Then add the rice and corn, stir in the ketchup and serve with a generous helping of cheese. Hey presto. Delicious!

Even more down to earth with a bump (1)

My record of Sofia Faith's pregnancy: week 3

I've had my hair cut off. I've been threatening to do it for ages. God knows I've only kept it long as I thought it would be easier while having babies. But baby number two has taken so long to materialise, that this week I decided enough is enough and I've finally gone for it. It is quite short. If I'm honest, I look like I'm wearing a crash helmet. 

And unaware of why, I totally feel like shit. Hungover. Just without the alcoholic intake. How's that for pants?