The Dishwasher That Didn't Get Fixed

Our dishwasher broke in June. It didn't exactly break - it seems to work fine. It's just that it fuses everything else in the house while it's on. So, we stopped using it. We discussed replacing it or getting it fixed and meanwhile I bought a drying rack for the dishes.

Here we are 7 months later and it is still out of order. But now we are not thinking of replacing it. I actually don't mind washing up at all! It's pretty great to open the kitchen cupboards and find plates and dishes that are where they should be, ready to be used. It was kind of a novel concept for a while and now I am used to it. I don't mind the time spent washing up, it's kind of peaceful, with music on. I will also admit to a bit of Netflix with my laptop perched where I can see it, at minimum safe splash distance. 

I remember getting our very first dishwasher as a kid. It felt like the absolute height of luxury. We had the reached the pinnacle of civilisation and nothing would ever top this! Then as a young married couple we bought a half sized one with some redundancy money Andy got, after he got a new job, I hasten to add. When the boys were babies our full sized dishwasher seemed permanently full of bottles and small fiddly bowls and tiny spoons. And, of course, in true marital rows cliche, according to Andrew, I am hopeless at stacking the dishwasher. He approaches it with a Tetris mindset, whereas I just want the stuff off the kitchen counter and out of sight.

My parents used to highlight washing up in their marriage guidance teaching as a great time to chat, to sort through any disagreements or catch up on each others' days. Also a great time to talk to kids without them feeling trapped in parental spotlights, if there are any little topics that need attention. It's something that has gradually been eroded. Yet the dishwasher doesn't really give you that time back in any constructive way - it creates a new chore, but without the same opportunity for conversation. This isn't meant to be an anti-tech post - there are many labour saving devices in the home that I wouldn't be without for even a week! But the dishwasher? We decided to try and do without.


Mostly Andrew and I have been washing up since then. But this month, our calendar had a specific instruction for us - see above! Better yet, Matthew was very taken with the idea! So, I decided that the boys were old enough to help, without smashing all the crockery. I washed, Matthew dried and Adam put things away, with supervisory guidance for both boys from Andrew to avoid sharp knife or wine glass incidents.

I have memories of many such times as a child - my sister and I used to bicker about who got to put away instead of drying up, as the former seemed like the easier chore somehow. On the other hand, my husband was never asked to do anything in the home, his Mum did all of the chores. This calendar prompt seemed like a good time to start the boys off with a daily chore that is communal and makes them aware that the family team has to work together to get stuff done in the house.

As the calendar was quite strict in demanding dancing and singing, we made a play list for the event and it was great! The boys both got stuck in and it was all surprisingly quick! And it was fun. Adam's bum wiggles while at the cutlery drawer were really quite spectacular and Matthew turned out to be a dab hand with the tea towel.

Although, on reflection,  the inclusion of Jump Around in the playlist may have been a mistake. Firstly, it kind of contradicts one of the other songs, and it also may not be the best accompanying music to primary school children holding plates. But we had beginner's luck, I guess! No breakages... 

It was such a success overall, that yesterday, Adam turned to me eagerly after dinner: 'Mummy, Mummy, can we do that thing where we sing and dance and wash up and clean?' Why, yes, son, we can! What a great idea! He also earnestly suggested few new songs for the list. Meanwhile after breakfast today I started rinsing off the cereal bowls only to be reprimanded sternly that I wasn't playing the washing up music. Matthew pointed this out, while picking up the tea towel, without even being asked to! Yes, really, without being asked. Talk about a parenting win!

This may be a blip and a short term parental windfall. The hope is that the kids will get into the habit during the time they still think of this as fun. The calendar will be there for the whole month and the eldest at least will consider this a strict instruction for the whole of January. The true test will be February! Here's to dry, chapped hands and happy conversations - best trade off ever!

Hats

The main reason that I haven't blogged for over 6 months, is that I have been stretched to the max, busy busy busy. Many days I have felt like a juggler, so many balls in the air - so many things to remember to do, people to call, things to get.  It can be draining! And this busy-ness, the hamster wheel of the to do list, is the theme of this blog.

As of almost exactly a year ago, I became self-employed. In theory, I work about 15 hours a week. Some weeks that is about right, others it's definitely far too low an estimate. And for the most part, this work takes place at home. Alongside this I have the usual housewife stuff to manage: laundry, planning, buying and preparing food, cleaning etc. Then the Mum stuff is there too of course: school runs, lunch boxes, homework, playdates...  The '... ' is there because that list is kind of endless. You don't get to the end of a day and clock off being a Mum!

Multitasking becomes the norm: I send work emails and texts while standing at the school gates, or I catch up on work while I should just be relaxing and watching tv in the evening, or I supervise homework while I am cooking dinner, keeping an eye on my work Facebook account and preparing lunch boxes. 

Many parents, Mums especially, deal with this all the time, every day. Multi-tasking is said to be something females are good at, but there is research out there, which suggests that multitasking endlessly is not remotely efficient and can end up damaging your mental health and causing huge stress. One of the reasons this applies especially to Mums is that many of their tasks are related to or witnessed by others, like the housework. I can see this - if I choose not to complete a work task, I can make allowances. If I don't get the laundry done, there will eventually be naked children and a cross husband.

This isn't meant to be a list of my busy-ness and a 'woe is me' post. But increasingly, it has become clear to me that I am coping, but not thriving, with all of this. I wouldn't say my mental health is suffering, but I can see that there has to be an easier way to get everything done. The biggest pressure comes from the fear that sets in when I worry that I have forgotten something. Perhaps I seem organised as I always have a list on me, but it is constantly being added to, not in a planned way, but as things occur to me, in a mild panic. I get home from dropping the kids to school, stand in the hall and know I have about 25 things to do. How do I decide what happens first? I end up stopping and starting each task and things take longer than they need to, which only adds to the sense of rush and pressure.  It all gets done, but at what cost?

The cost is generally grumpiness and tiredness - most of which is displayed as snappy and impatient retorts to the kids. They are uncomplaining recipients of the downside of all this juggling and I can see that I am missing opportunities to just hang out with them. It's going by so fast - I now live with an 8 year old and a 6 year old - when did that happen? I want them to look back and remember me as fun and approachable, not busy and stressed.

New year, time for a change. I didn't set out to make a big New Year's resolution about this. It has just been dawning on me that I wasn't organised at all in the lead up to Christmas, and it took me about 6 weeks from the end of August to get my head around my boys' schedule once they were back at school. A chat with my Mum on Saturday set a big alarm off in my head about how I am managing and, thankfully, showed me a clear path to fixing this.

I should at this point say that my Mum is amazing! She has developed a great teaching about the busy-ness of life and how to make it all work. It's really all about hats. Yes, hats.

How many hats do you wear? I worked out that I wear 12.  I am a Mum, wife, Slimming World Consultant, friend, church member, housewife, person, daughter, sister, childminder etc, all the way to 12. Incidentally, if you have more than 12 hats, it might be time to rethink things as that's not really sustainable in terms of the burden of time and responsibility required of one person. 

The next step was a pie chart to help me work out what chunk of my time needs to go to each hat. And then I took time to plan out my week, allocating the time I need to each hat over the week. 

This might sound really over the top and silly. And as I am posting it here, it is a very diluted version of the full teaching as my Mum gives it, or even of the conversation we had. But, the main thing is that I have, genuinely, seen an immediate effect. Yesterday, I allocated from 3-5 to spend getting housey stuff ready for the whole back to school rush this morning. At 2:45 Matthew wanted some attention from me. Because I knew I had the time booked, instead of telling him I was busy and had loads to do, I said: 'We can do something together for 15 minutes, what do you want to do?' All he wanted was a chat! He showed me some of what he has made on his Christmas present - it's a kind of computer to teach kids how to do coding and programming - and chatted away. I understood about 3 out of every 10 words, but he was delighted with the attention. And, sadly, it highlighted that I have not been doing this, I have been missing opportunities to spend time with this boy, who will be a teenager before I know it and not looking for time with me in the same way.

This morning I got back from the school run and stood in the hall and had a plan ready to enact. I knew I had 2 hours to really attack the housework. I did so with purpose, gusto and loud music. What motivated me hugely is knowing that at 11, I would head out for me time - and I did. I could have done more housework, cause when is that ever actually finished? But I had planned to have time for me, the person, not the Mum, the consultant, the housewife, the anything, but just Sarah. I had a great walk, came home and had lunch, read and felt fantastic. This afternoon is Mum time and tomorrow is mostly Consultant time. And on Sunday I will need to make a new plan to be who I need to be at the right time throughout next week.

It's early days and this might not last. But so far, I am inspired! My list of jobs didn't get any smaller, but my turmoil shrank considerably and I am excited to start 2015 with a clearer sense of all my tasks and responsibilities. And I've always liked hats - maybe I could wear different one for each role? Or I might just stick with the one that my amazing friend Helen gave me. I have been told it looks a bit Downton on me. You know, maybe that's the actual solution: get servants.

The I'm Bored Jar 2014 Style

The I'm Bored Jar is amazing! A school friend suggested the idea and the boys have loved it. The rules are: if anyone says 'I'm Bored!' they must take something from the jar and complete the task it sets them. The risk is that you HAVE to do what it says - one friend said she loved the Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans element of risk and danger. And so do the kids.

Towards the end of term, it became apparent that the Jar hadn't really kept up with the boys and it was time to update and refresh the chores and tasks.

So, Facebook was consulted, Pinterest was ransacked and my brain went into overdrive. Many suggestions were great, but kind of missed the point. Ideally, the tasks will be things that the kids can get on with more or less unsupervised and with minimal adult input. This is because they will almost always suddenly appear and claim boredom JUST when you are at the crucial stage of cooking dinner, or about to phone the bank. So, suggestions that imply dropping everything and doing something WITH the kids, are for another day.  

The jar is meant to give us relaxed and happy days at home, without the expectation of organised and often expensive entertainment being laid on. At the same time, I can't expect my boys to just hang around randomly, not without expecting a LOT of squabbling and grumpiness anyway. And of course, they can just zoom around on bikes, and call for their friends and I will bring them to the playground etc. But, as I am now doing a lot of work from home and learning day by day how this will work now the kids are around all day, the jar will be crucial to a sane and happy Summer!

We now have a fully stocked jar, with loads of ideas suited to the age and stage of the 2 Keene-lings. 

 If you have a 7 or 5 year old boy, then this list could save your Summer. Many of these are easily adaptable for other ages and interests also, I am sure. For example, I mind 2 great kids every Thursday and the 9 year old girl pulled something out of the jar last week: write a letter to your favourite football player.  How unimpressed was she!  And how quickly did she change to being unbelievably impressed when I suggested she write to one of the boys from One Direction instead!!! She was soooo excited and wrote a letter worthy of a reply, while literally bouncing up and down in her seat.  I absolutely love the intense use of capitals and my favourite bit is where she tells Harry to 'send the lads a hug from me!', as though she has known them all very well for years! We looked up the band's management company and the letter has been posted. I hope Harry Stiles does get it and write back... If he does, minimum safe distance required due to the screaming that will ensue, or she might not be able to speak at all for a month. Either way, it would be pretty amazing!

So, here is the list - it remains open to new suggestions and ideas!

• choose a lego project and make it
• empty waste paper baskets
• look at your baby pictures
• make a playlist on Spotify
• make a card for anna and owen
• choose a famous football player and write to them, or draw them a picture
• draw a minecraft map, that you can make next time you play it
• choose a lego project and make it
• make a marble run
• make a road and train track
• paint a rainbow
• check the dryer and empty it if it is full
• go through the football magazines and throw away any that are too torn and ripped
• go through your money box and count what is in there
• go through all your socks and check they fit and all have a pair
• go through the craft book, pick a craft and make a list of what we need
• pick an activity book from Adam’s room and do 3 pages of it
• pick a recipe that you want to make and make a list of what you need
• choose a Bible story and draw a picture of it
• clear out the church bag completely
• make a sign that could go on your bedroom door
• choose a scene from Harry Potter and draw a picture of this
• wash the car
• cycle or scoot around Broomhall Glen and back home
• go through your pyjamas and check that they fit
• check your bedroom: pick everything off the floor and put it in the right place
• do a jigsaw puzzle
• go through the cars in the big blue box and throw away any broken ones
• go through the colours and check if any are broken and throw them away
• clean the toilet and sink in your bathroom
• write a news broadcast and video yourself giving the news. Tell least 3 news stories
• hoover mummy’s car
• write a short story, which must include the words: apple, frog and helicopter
• do a bumpy hand drawing (get Mummy to show you on Pinterest)
• make up a new superhero: give him a name, draw a costume and choose his 3 superpowers and draw his enemy too
• get Mummy to write a really long word and see how many shorter words you can make from it
• make a road track on the decking or in your room with masking tape
• make a fort and have a snack inside it
• make up a secret code and write a message to Mummy telling her what you’d like for dinner tomorrow
• make a pirate treasure map and see if Daddy can find the treasure you have hidden when he gets home
• Ask Mummy for the Letter Walk plate and go for it
• see if Mummy or Daddy have an old appliance that they will let you take apart
• choose a piano piece to practise so you can play a duet with Daddy when he gets home 
• Design and build an obstacle course for your brother to do, and maybe parents too
• Choose a Formula 1 Driver and write to them
• Design a football strip for Southampton 
• Practise level 6 flips on the trampoline
• water the garden with water from the butt - use watering can, don’t forget pot at the front
• go through yellow snack box, throw away any empty boxes or anything that has gone off 
• make a magic potion in the garden 
• go around the house and check for any cups or mugs to put in the dishwasher
• choose a story to read out loud and record yourself reading it
• go round the house and pick up all the books not in a book case and put them in the right rooms
• design the invitation to your birthday party later this year
• Choose a loom band design to make and make a new bracelet
• time yourself running a lap of the garden and then try and better your time
• Take a pencil for a walk on a piece of paper and then colour in the shapes: no pieces touching each other can be the same colour
• look in the recycling bin and use whatever you can find to make a rocket
• pull up all the weeds from the side of the driveway
• rearrange your bookcase by colour, to make a rainbow of the book spines
• rearrange your bookcase by author, alphabetically
• design and make a monster mask
• Think of 3 other ideas for the I’m Bored Jar!
• Add any football cards or stickers to the right albums if not yet stuck in

Tiny Surfers: Internetiquette for Kids and Parents

'Mummy, can I please be on Instagram?' If this had been a scene from a sit com, I would have spat a mouthful of tea across the kitchen at this point. My 7 year old wants to be on Instagram? Wait, my 7 year old has heard of Instagram and wants to post pictures? WHAT? Why? How?

It is truly astonishing how much kids pick up about things they don't actually use or have direct contact with. We must refer to things all the time, like our Facebook status, or sending email, that we don't really register as being taken in by little ears.

My friend got an iPad the other day and by the time she got to it in the evening, her 7 year old son had downloaded all her apps from her iTunes account, except for Facebook, '... cause I wasn't sure what your email address was...' 

We got both boys fairly cheap tablets that Andy picked up in Malaysia when he was there for work. Matthew took his and got started with some of the games that Andrew had preloaded. But within minutes he turned to me: 'Can I send messages to Jack on this?' And then: 'Can I have a password so no one else can go on this?' That would be a big fat NO to both of those questions! But we were surprised that he thought to ask them...

There is also a PlayStation in the living room and I was taken aback to come in and see Adam, 5, playing a match with 'some guy.' Um, pardon? Who? How? My solution to that one was to just turn the bloody thing off and to alter the access settings. Thankfully Adam was pretty freaked out by this and won't be trying this again - mainly cause the guy was thrashing him in their FIFA match...

Although we knew of course that we had to work hard to stay ahead of the kids in terms of technology, we had thought we would have a bit more of a cushion before they were snapping at our heels. And this is from a pretty IT savvy family. Andy works full time in IT and I am not frightened of it myself. But I have already had to hand my phone over to Matthew, when he was 6, so that he could find a particular app that I couldn't. And the boys discovered how to get onto YouTube through the PlayStation before I even knew that was any kind of an option.

We are helping out at a Parenting Course at the moment and the bulk of the course is dvd presentations from a great couple who are full of practical, realistic, loving and helpful advice. Last week's session was all about boundaries and they touched on the area of screen time and added the usual advice around kids' security on computers: keep the family computer in a central area in the home and then you can monitor what the kids are doing online. However, that is really quite outdated as advice goes as things have changed so rapidly in this arena. Now it is a matter of everyone being on their own devices, or perhaps multiple devices at the one time.


So, what's the best advice for a family with young kids? Here are the 4 main things I think it's worth taking into account:

1. Screen Time: limit this! Establish a culture whereby your kids ask you before they use technology and know that they have a certain time per day to play on screens. See also: http://sarahkeene.blogspot.ie/2013/07/screen-sanity.html

2. Have the conversation with your kids about the internet. In the same way we all find the right time and words to discuss Stranger Danger, the topic needs to be extended to the web. 'Never give your real name on websites', 'How to make a good password' etc. And set up the conversation to prepare them for the day when they come across something that you'd rather they not find online. Cause they will. Realistically, you can't stop that from happening - but you can influence what they choose to do next. 

3. Media Stacking is the snazzy term used for using more than one device at a time: watching Netflix while playing on a tablet and texting too. There is some thought that kids using technology in this way are losing the ability to focus on one thing at a time and that this is affecting the attention they can really give to films, books or other activities. I am not sure what I think of this, but it's an interesting idea and worth keeping an eye on.

4. Look at the devices that they use. There are actually a lot of settings on tablets and games consoles that implement security. Alright, today's kids will probably be able to circumvent these by the time they are 8 and  a half, but it's worth trying! And there are also a lot of great apps out there for parental controls. The best one I have found is Norton Family Security. It's great - you can tailor each child's access as you register them with this service. There is a free element to this, and then you can choose to pay as you need more detailed and specific requirements. It's well worth a look and fairly easy to set up. https://onlinefamily.norton.com/familysafety/nofToGo.fs The main thing I like about it, is that its number 1 recommendation for parents is that they have an open and evolving conversation with their kids about their online activities, thus bringing us neatly back to points 1 and 2.

It can feel very overwhelming, especially if you aren't at all techy. And very quickly terms like cyber bullying start to get chucked about, which can escalate fear and panic around this whole issue. I firmly believe that starting this conversation with your young children, who probably already know more than you realise they do, will give you a better chance of protecting them as they get older. I am not naive enough to think that my boys won't find porn or get silly or abusive messages from their friends as they get older. But I can give them a decent foundation in internetiquette, and hope this will help them negotiate this whole minefield, which is only going to grow in their lifetime.


One key message to take from this:  have the conversation with your kids, about safety, about screen time and keep this conversation open and developing as they get older. But, also, make friends with a tame geek and give them cake and beer at regular intervals so they can help you with this. I took this to the next level and married one. Now you know why I bake so often...

If Anyone Asks, We Are A Nice Normal Family

The first time I blithely agreed to play cards with Andrew and some assorted relatives, I didn't realise I was opening myself up to grave censure and critique. I thought we were going to play cards. But, as it turned out, we were going to Play Cards - something that was done nearly every Sunday and where an enormous amount of unspoken expectations and rules came quietly into play without me knowing this. Probably without anyone else knowing it as well, as they all just had an innate sense of this as 'the normal way' to play cards and 'the way we do things on Sundays'.

It was the first and last time I played cards with any Keenes-in-law or family branches thereof!  Not realising there were sacred rituals involved, I trampled all over them and was looked at aghast, like a cultural outcast, or at the very least, a fairly stupid person. Not that anyone there realised that's how they were looking at me, or how they made me feel! 

Any given family has their own family culture, whether they realise this or not. Values, norms, rituals and traditions are part of any household and shape the members accordingly.  Often you don't realise you are part of a very specific micro culture in your family. I guess kids assume that their family is the same as most others and that the way things are expressed or done in their house is the 'normal' way. Those first few playdates or sleepovers will soon change that...


When you end up in a relationship with someone and meet their family, it's probably the first time you are seeing another family really close up.  I was 19 when Andrew and I started going out and 20 when I first went to stay with his folks for a few nights. He was the same age when he came over to Holland to stay with us that first summer we were together. It's weird to feel quite close to someone and then to see them in their most familiar environment when you are beginning to establish your own mini culture together as a couple. It definitely helped us get to know each other better and understand some of each other's idiosyncrasies and assumptions.

One of my relatives-in-law was a good bit older when he became part of the family. He has opted not to really get to know or stay with anyone. There are some days I think he might have the right idea! On the other hand, it's part of who we all are, our family culture, for good or for bad, whether there was ever an intentional culture or not; or just a sense of 'this is how things are' and you only found out later that this was actually only true in your house.

The games that drove Andrew mad in my family home were all word related: Word and Question, Fold Over and Consquences were big favourites with us and I couldn't wait to introduce him to them. Well, he did NOT enjoy them and was made to feel equally foolish and as much of an outsider as I had with the cards scenario. There is a certain amount of writing and even rhyming in those games that just frustrated him and felt like work rather than a game.

So, very early on in our marriage, we made a solemn pact: he never has to play word games with my family and I never have to play cards with his. I am not saying this is the main reason we have been together for nearly 20 years, but it's definitely helped!

And now we get to create our own family culture! It's one of those things you might not know you have until you hear your kids jabbering away to their friends or their friends' parents and see the confusion and bewilderment on their faces. Then you realise you have normalised something that they now assume is universal, but no one else is really interested in!

A big part of Andrew's family culture is music. Both he and his sister played in the Hampshire County Youth Orchestra and this was a massive part of his teenage years. Play any piece of classical music and Andrew will more than likely have played it in some concert or band or other. When Matthew was born, Andrew's folks both said 'I wonder what he'll play', as one of their very first comments on meeting their grandson. It's a huge value to them, clearly.  Which is why it's exciting that Matthew has just started piano lessons, 5 weeks ago. After a good start, we had a dodgy week, after which I had to sit him down and explain why yawning loudly and incessantly for 30 minutes of the lesson was not very polite and why I was mortified listening in from the corridor. Bless him, he got the message and has been doing really well.

One of my favourite family memories is time spent at the dinner table playing: 'Think of a Question.' Mam and Dad used to ask us all kinds of questions!  Dad would generally go for general knowledge and the news headlines and Mam might get us to list our 5 favourite something or other. Capital cities, prime ministers, historical figures - all part of dinner time.  I remember fun, happy mealtimes, including some where we laughed so much that my sister fell off her chair. There was of course the memorable dessert flinging episode as well...  In my mind, this is linked to family question time; although the spoonful of pudding that my sister flung directly at my dad wasn't actually in answer to a question, it was definitely something that shaped our family culture and has gone down as a key family moment. As has his spoonful chucked right back at her. Ah, memories...

Imagine my delight when I went to collect the boys from a meal at Opa and Oma's house, to find they had been playing 'Hard Questions' at the dinner table. This has very quickly become a ritual whenever they are eating with Opa, especially. There is maths, there is geography, there is football knowledge and there is a load of fun and encouragement. It's brilliant!  The other night, I was blown away by some of the stuff the boys knew, or by watching them work out things they might not have known already. This is a wee culture they have with their grandparents and it is beautiful to see!

As for our family culture, it is partly just an organic process, but also one we need to be intentional in shaping. At the moment, it is drawing heavily on Angry Birds and Star Wars for its cultural references.  I would like to think we can up the standard soon - although I am quite proud to know as much as I do about Piggy Island, Pig Troopers and Ham Solo.

Rush Hour

A typical morning last summer term:
Me: 'Please go upstairs, get your uniform on, get your shoes on and brush your teeth.'

Fifteen minutes later:
Me: 'Why are you still in your pyjamas?'
Child: 'I forgot to get dressed...' (This is an actual quote...)
Me: 'Come on now, you need to hurry!' (still calm and pleasant here, perhaps slightly impatient)

Ten minutes later:
Me: 'Please put the book down - why are you only wearing pants?' (in mildly hysterical tones at this stage...)
Child: 'Sorry, I just NEEDED to finish the chapter...'

Ten minutes later:
Me: 'Where are your shoes? Have you brushed your teeth?'
Child: 'Oh, I forgot.'
Me: 'Back upstairs please, (through gritted teeth) we are running out of time.'

Five minutes later
Me: 'Right, let's go... WHY HAVEN'T YOU GOT ANY SHOES ON?' (way past hysteria now, straight to rage...)

Please tell me this is not just in my house! Some mornings I really despaired!  I absolutely hated the way this turned me into a nagging, shouty, miserable whinge, rather then the modern, relaxed parent I actually am. (ahem.) It nearly felt like the child wouldn't have remembered to breathe unless I reminded him, never mind get dressed and ready for school in any way independently. And it's not like each day was different - he had to get dressed and ready for school every day, yet every day this seemed to be something he forgot about unless he was reminded. By me. Often.

Two weeks ago, the second child started school and I realised that I was going to lose my mind completely if I didn't put something in place to encourage a bit of self starting on the kids' part. 

Now I am definitely a chart parent - there have always been charts in this house: sticker charts, reward charts and screen time charts.  I absolutely love making them and am a very list/chart sort of person in organising my activities anyway, so it's natural enough to apply this to parenting. 

Cue this latest chart:

It's pretty simple - each boy has 5 things to do, based on what they would struggle to remember or get done independently. They tick things off as they complete the tasks. Each tick corresponds to 5 minutes game time earned. So their guaranteed screen time has now been reduced and the remainder can only be earned by readiness and 'getting on with it'ness on school mornings. 

The ultimate threat that accompanies this is that I have said if they are not ready when it is time to leave, I will quite happily take them to school in their pyjamas. This is not a threat I expect to have to implement, but a tiny part of me kind of wants to - just to see their face.  (I know,  (sigh,)  my Mother of the Year certificate is probably already in the post...)

Research has shown that parents often assume that kids will grasp what is obvious to them: these things need to be done for us to get out on time, everyone knows this - it makes perfect sense. But does it to everyone in the household? What seems like a natural sequence of events to us adults, can in fact be a jumble of confusing signals for them. We get frustrated when they don't cop on and the mornings descend into arguments, frustration and rushing.  Parents need to recognise what they can do to make things move more smoothly - what can be set out the night before? How much time does everyone need, realistically? But also, how realistic are the expectations we have of our kids? And do they really know what has to happen and when? Or why?

One article I read on this issue gave the example of a dad who broke his daughter's morning list of activities down into 22 items listed on a spreadsheet. If I gave my sons a 22 point list of things to achieve between 7:30 and 8:45, I think they would take one look and just head back to bed.  So would I! But the principle of my wee chart is the same: make sure these 5 things are done! And you will be rewarded. And the chart is tailored to things that each boy will struggle to do easily, of their own accord. 

And here's the thing - so far, this is working brilliantly.  All I have to say is: 'please check your list and do what it says.' I may have to say this a few times, but it is better than having to mentally get everyone dressed and ready, every step of the way... It is making for much more relaxed and easy school mornings. Long may this last...

Now if only I could make a chart for myself - 5 minutes solitary reading for every shirt ironed or lunchbox filled? 

Grass Widowhood (no, not that kind of grass..)

Grass Widows are defined as wives whose husbands are temporarily away, on business.  Apparently in America it has come to mean a woman who is separated or divorced, but that's not the context for this blogpost. 

There is no total consensus on where the term originates, but the most likely way that it came into common use was through Anglo Indian slang. In the hot summer, wives were often sent away to the cooler stations, where the grass was greener, while their husbands remained stationed on the plains. There is a suggestion that the phrase came to infer a certain amount of bad behaviour that may have gone on while the wives were away, both back home and in the green grass of the hills. 

It's not a phrase you hear very often anymore, but definitely one I apply to myself in my own mind when Andrew goes away. He travels a fair amount, usually for less than a week, and most often to the States. But occasionally just for a couple of night to mainland Europe, and very infrequently, for longer than a week.

For many Irish families, this is a far more regular occurrence. Since the economy took a nosedive, many people have had to seek work outside of Ireland and often this means that Daddy works away all week and comes home at weekends.  This can be very hard and if you google 'husbands working away from home', your screen will fill up with posts from Mumsnet and similar forums, with people asking for support or expressing concern around this issue. And of course for Army Wives, this is a way of life, with the attendant fear and worry about the husbands' safety.

I know a few families where the Dad is away more than he is around and while it is not easy, families generally make the best of it, because they just have to.  I recently heard of a very sad situation, where the Dad moved to England for work, on the natural assumption that he would be back as often as possible. In actual fact, he chose this fairly spineless way to leave his wife and to simply not return. Try explaining that one to your kids...  But this is of course extreme and plenty of families do make Dads' absences work. 

I find there are some advantages to grass widowhood. People often seem sympathetic towards me when they know Andy has jetted off once more - but I would far rather have him enjoy the variety that travel brings than feel chained to his desk.  It definitely breaks down the monotony of the same faces and meetings every week and, for Andy at least,  travel is preferable to boredom. Mind you, it's not as glamorous as it sounds - generally, he gets to see the airport, a hotel and an office in any given city and very little else.  And jet lag is a real killer.  But before you get out the violins, there are of course great meals out, and some free time to explore new places also.  He had a great weekend in Washington DC a couple of years ago, for example. Jealous? Me?

As soon as he is on the N11 en route to the airport, my privileges kick in. One of my favourite is that I can park sprawled all over the driveway however I choose. No idea why, but I get a kick out of this! In addition, I become the sole proprietor of the remote control.  Or the mouse really, as I mostly watch Netflix these days. I try to pick a series that doesn't look like something he would be fussed about, like Grey's Anatomy, and watch that.  More often than not though, I find myself thinking 'ooooh, Andy would love this!' That's how I found Bones, which we both loved. And I started watching the IT Crowd last night, which I think he would like as well.  I will have to find something else tonight and save that for when he's back!

And of course, there is the bonus of presents!  Kudos to him, he is not bad at buying presents. Put it this way, I haven't run out of Clinique products since he started this job. He has even branched out into the area of clothes, especially in the States, where there is an outlet mall near one of his frequent sorties.  I was pretty impressed when he bought me jeans - how brave was that!

But all the Clinique and jeans in the world can't make up for the disadvantages of his absence. Generally, I find that I don't sleep as well.  There is a slightly hysterical irony to this, as I spent 10 years complaining about his snoring until he got that sorted out. And we frequently have duvet possession wars, or one of us reads for too long in bed while the other one is trying to sleep. But the bed seems awfully big when I am in it alone and I don't sleep as deeply.

Perhaps that's partly cause I am more alert to the safety of the boys and the house. I really hate being the one to lock the doors at night and turn off all the lights.  I never realised how much I value the security of Andy being the one to do that every night, until I started having to. In addition, I am now also supposed to remember to water the plants and the garden. And to wind the clocks. Never going to happen...  So Andy generally has to do emergency aftercare on the poor neglected plants and sort out the clocks once he returns.

And of course the biggest disadvantage is that the boys miss their Daddy. This has actually become harder as time has passed since he first started going away.  There used to be a big sense of excitement and we would consult the atlas and learn the names of new cities. Trips away were strongly associated with presents and the poor man would barely be out of the car before 2 boys launched themselves at him for a cursory hug, before asking for their gifts. 

But as they are getting older, they are making the very healthy transition from Mummy being the main focus, to Daddy being the hero. This means his absence carries more weight. For the first time ever last night, I had a boy come down to me in floods of tears long after I had put him to bed: 'I want Daddy!' He was very hard to console and I had to resort to kissing every single stuffed animal in his bed good night before he was sufficiently distracted and calmed down. 

For me, I measure his absence by the laundry basket.  If he is away for only a few days, he might only just have disappeared from the laundry cycle, but there are probably still a few clothes to fold and put away that are his. On a long trip, he vanishes from the laundry. Until of course he comes home and fills the entire basket in one go...

While he is away we get on fine, because we have to. It's easier during the school term, which kicks in tomorrow, and we are in our little routine and it's grand.  In fact, the trick is to realise how well we have coped, and therefore to recognise that we all need to readjust when he returns. Because we have to just get on with it, the Daddy shaped hole becomes less pronounced each time he goes away, or for each day that he is gone.  This is helpful while he is not here, but can make his return tricky. This is not a big issue - just one of those areas where we have to be aware and intentional in recalibrating ourselves to having four of us in the house once again.

He just left yesterday, and this will be a long-ish trip.  And he will be away for his birthday again, which is a shame. On the other hand, I was beginning to run low on Clinique...

Flat 7Up and a Duvet on the Couch

Remember that feeling of being sick as a child? I am not aware that I was a particularly sickly kid, but I have very strong memories of being unwell and being looked after, in particular by my Mum.  Even though these are memories of sickness, they are very happy memories as well, as I just remember being warm, snuggled and looked after with care and love. 

One of the best things was being allowed to go into my parents' bed for part of the day. No idea why, but this really felt like a big deal and was reserved for occasions of sickness. I remember feeling very important and special in what seemed like an enormous bed. The other really great thing was a duvet on the couch.  If you were lucky, a double duvet folded over, so you were lying both on and under it. Mmmmmm... the sense of comfort from that should be bottled! 

And I would extend that sense of comfort into the deeply uncomfortable arena of throwing up. It's horrible - the way it takes over your body and, just, yuck.  But when your Mum is rubbing your back and murmuring soothing phrases, you know you will be ok.  I had a French teacher who used to encourage us as we spoke French in exactly the same tone my Mum used when we were being sick.  I always felt a bit nauseous in his classroom...

Then there is the paraphernalia: medicines, dry crackers or biscuits and of course flat 7Up. Nobody ever recovered properly from anything without flat 7Up. And books that you had already read before so you didn't have to think too much. And tv: Anne of Green Gables or Mary Poppins (but not too loud for the singing).

I am of course not talking about hospital sickness here, which is a whole other scenario. But the childhood flus and bugs, which prevented you from going to school and presumably prevented your Mum from doing much of anything, although she was gracious enough not to let on. As a child, I almost revelled in the whole experience - you were allowed to ask for almost anything to eat, drink or watch and the chances of being told no were severely reduced. 

My husband has a very different experience of childhood sickness.  Not that my mum allowed me to be a hypochondriac, but his mum was just not having any of it.  Unless there were broken limbs or blood coming out of his ears, he was going to school...  Consequently, he is rubbish at being unwell himself.  Following surgery, I looked after him while he recuperated and he was totally uninitiated in the art of the couch duvet. There is a knack to the placement of the pillows, the proximity to the coffee table has to be judged carefully and there is of course the all important 'socks or no socks' debate.  All of this was foreign territory to him and I was happy to educate him...

Now it is my turn to be the Mum who looks after sick kids.  Today, my younger son has a nasty tummy bug. Although of course my heart breaks for him, a tiny part of me loves suddenly being needed so much again.  It goes so fast and we are so proud of every milestone.  But each of those means more independence and less direct interaction with me! But today, even though his little woebegone pale face was very tragic indeed, I was secretly delighted at all the extra cuddles I was getting. And, yes, I now get to hold the sick bucket and make the soothing noises.  It is strangely un-gross - it just goes with the territory and I don't mind it at all.

Of course this is all very well for me.  I don't work regular hours outside the home and am in charge of my own schedule. In the recent times I worked in office jobs, I was very fortunate that both kids were relatively healthy, apart from a dose of chicken pox. But today, all I had to worry about was getting the oldest guy a lift to and from football camp.  No drama, no stress really.

How different for working Mums.  And I say Mums here rather than parents.  I think there is a real urge within a very young child for Mummy when they are sick.  With the greatest respect to all Dads everywhere, Mummies are just better at sorting out the duvet on the couch. But when the same Mummy is due in 5 meetings that day, it's a different story. It's a monumental juggling act, loaded with guilt on all sides.  Whatever she does on a day her child is sick, she will be left feeling that she is letting someone down. 

A friend had a sick child just this week, on the day she was due to have an important job assessment talk with a manager. It was just so typical that this was the day there was a sick child in the house. Next thing, the manager sent a mail: his Mum had died and he was cancelling. My friend was delighted! And then horrified at her reaction!  And then just relieved and probably a bit guilty - there always has to be guilt...

My heart goes out to working Mums as they juggle so much to begin with - housework, laundry, shopping, cooking, childcare and the job itself. Adding a sick kid to the mix is just too much and can send the whole dynamic out of whack for the family. The pressure is enormous and sometimes simply having an understanding employer will make the difference.  That is, of course, not a given. Laws about time off for sick kids vary tremendously and it can be a minefield to have to negotiate your rights. As I understand it, in the States, some parents risk job loss or the docking of pay if they have to mind sick kids. Grandparents and aunties can help out, but only if they are around to begin with and even then only if the child is well enough to have anyone but Mummy.

This is perhaps one area where equality is a bit of a flawed concept.  It's great that woman can and do work of course, but kids need their Mummies when they are sick and perhaps employers should allow for this.  But then you can see where employers would avoid employing women of a certain age (where they are not already doing so), and the whole thing gets a bit murky. 

There is no obvious solution here - each family just muddles through and keeps their kids as healthy as possible. Having recently seen a family close to me go through two weeks of stress around this issue, I wish I could be a fairy godmother and swoop in to help with this kind of situation. Maybe that's what all families need! 

Meanwhile, I need to go and wake my poorly bunny and hope the sleep has done him well. Think it's time for Toy Story, watched from the vantage point of a duvet nest on the couch - prepared by an expert!  Now where did I leave that 7Up?

Not Taboo, But Still Unspoken

I woke up this morning feeling weird and edgy and then I remembered my dream. In it, I had a miscarriage. Even though it was non sequential and incoherent, as dreams are, I knew in the dream that this was the fourth one and I was devastated.  And I woke up feeling unsettled and off. 

Dreams are really strange. I am not pregnant and I haven't had a miscarriage for 8 years. So it's hard to know how the combination of conversations I had yesterday and the pasta I had for dinner conspired to conjure up up these images.

Apparently 1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage, of which there are several different kinds.  Not 1 in 5 women ever have a  miscarriage, but 20% of all pregnancies. That's a very high proportion and indicates how many people are affected by this. Yet it is strangely unspoken about - it's not something people tend to reveal about themselves on a night out. I don't think this is because it's taboo, rather that it's a very personal thing for everyone. Depending on what stage you were at in the pregnancy, whether you already have kids or not, how both people in the couple respond to this and a host of other factors, your experience will be very individual. People's responses to such a loss are deeply personal also and are hard to share with others, as you are mourning the loss of potential, which is unquantifiable in many ways. 

It was very striking one evening at book club, to go round the table and realise that every single woman there, had had at least 1 miscarriage. There were about 7 of the wider membership that had turned up that particular month, but each of us had a completely different story. That's when the statistic '1 in 5' was shown to be such a high one - that it had affected every single person in a relatively random group of women one Thursday night in Wicklow town.

Before we ever had any kids, we went through 3 miscarriages. The very first one was really early, like about 6 and a half weeks into the pregnancy. If I hadn't suspected and taken a pregnancy test, I possibly wouldn't even have realised and would have just assumed I was quite late.  In fact, one of the midwives said this to me and said that early pregnancy tests are great in many ways, but do cause a great deal of heartache that would otherwise have passed you by.

The next miscarriage was almost exactly a year later and was a really difficult experience.  I was almost 11 weeks pregnant and the school I was working in was 2 days away from being inspected by Ofsted when I realised I was bleeding. Cue the two most awful days. Scans showed that there was no heartbeat, but the doctors insisted on various surgery-avoidance procedures that were really awful.  It was our first experience of being in a hospital system where staff were quite poor at communicating what was going on, and stuff was just done or medication just given, without explanation, until Andrew demanded to be told what was happening. Eventually, I ended up in surgery.

That was a very hard time as one of my closest friends had just had her first baby.  I had found out I was pregnant on the day she gave birth and it all just felt so right and we were so happy!  It was very difficult to come back from this, and I was very angry and upset for a long time. It changed me, it changed our marriage, thankfully by bringing us closer together in the end,  and it changed, deepened and strengthened my faith. 

Two years later, I found out I was pregnant again and was delighted to feel sick and nauseous for a few weeks. Until I stopped feeling sick and nauseous...  I knew then and wasn't at all surprised when the early scan we were allowed due to our history did not show a heartbeat. The one they made us come back for 2 weeks later confirmed this, and I was admitted for surgery in Holles Street. In those 2 in between weeks, our house had flooded due to incompetent plumbers and I spent the subsequent weeks post surgery on the couch as a humidifier drummed next to me and various workmen painted and replastered. Not a great recuperation!

And only then, after 3 miscarriages, would 'they' look at us and do any investigation as to the cause of this recurrence. 'They' being the medical profession, who are acting from the 1 in 5 statistic. At the time,  after the second miscarriage, it is so hard to accept that they don't consider you have been through enough to investigate. There you are, devastated, and told 'we only take blood tests etc after 3.' I almost felt like that was a sentence and a small part of me was relieved after the third one was over, that at least now they had to look into this.

But, several blood tests later, we proved to be perfectly healthy and there was no reason to think the next pregnancy wouldn't be fine.  Although this was good news, I almost wanted there to be a problem.  They would then present us with a super straightforward medical solution, just like that, and we could go forward with certainty and confidence.  Well, that's not how things go in real life!

I write this while ignoring the sounds from upstairs that tell me one of the kids is about to come down roaring in pain any minute now. After the 3 miscarriages, I had 2 subsequent pregnancies, both of which were fine and we have 2 healthy, bouncy boys. Although our experiences were difficult, they are nothing, NOTHING, compared to what some couples go through, in terms of ectopic pregnancies, the whole ivf route with its attendant financial and hormonal pressures or indeed the soul-destroying bureaucracy of adoption. Not to mention losing a baby much later in pregnancy or having a baby die shortly after birth. And I have also always thought that in many ways it must be harder to suffer a miscarriage when you already have kids.  Although we were desperately sad that we might never have a family; at least we were at liberty to console each other, to head off for long weekends and to take time out from normal life as needed.  If you already have kids, that's not an option and I am full of admiration for couples who stay strong in these situations.

I always worry when I hear new couples talk blithely about their plans to start a family after they have travelled and had glittering careers etc. I think the phrase 'planning a family' is in fact extremely unhelpful as it utterly fails to prepare people for the fairly high chance that this might not just happen cause they want it to at a certain time. I am not suggesting people should be worried and tense around this whole issue, but at least be aware that children are a blessing.  At risk of sounding too cheesy for words, I mean by this that each child really is a miracle, given all that has to happen before they are safely delivered. I am immensely grateful for my two miracles and will now go and check which one of them has injured the other...