“Days Like These”

23/06/15

Sometimes, we have periods of days at a time where J’s behaviour is fabulous. Not flawless, because what four year old child is, but days at a time when we don’t have meltdowns or tantrums, hitting or throwing things.

At other times, we struggle to get through a day without several instances of up / down behaviour. Days like these are exhausting. Days like these, when I’m pushed to my limits, I wonder how I can cope, I wonder what I’m doing wrong, I wonder why I’m such a rubbish mum that he acts this way. Days like these are, unfortunately, more often than not.

Today, we’d had a fabulous day. He was up this morning in a good mood, well rested and energised. He ate breakfast and got washed and dressed without me having to prompt him every two minutes to hurry up. We left the house on time and he walked nicely to school, holding my hand, chattering excitedly as four year olds do at 8.30am about who he was going to see, who he wanted to play with and talk to, and the things he wanted to do. At school, the door opened and he gave me a hug and a kiss and with a casual, “Bye mum, love you” over his shoulder he ran full pelt up the ramp and into school. The teacher who stands at the door looked over to me and gave me a big smile and two thumbs up. I smiled and gave her a thumbs up back. A successful morning.

At the end of school, the teaching assistant Miss Brown said to me that J had a good day. She said they’d spoken about the school trip tomorrow and he was excited about it – I had been dubious as he’d been rather apprehensive last week at the prospect of travelling out of school without me or Daddy P – but she said today they’d had a chat and she’d told him some of the things they’d be seeing and doing and he was looking forward to it. One of the children celebrates their birthday tomorrow, so their birthday lunch was today and each child in the class walked out with a cupcake. Miss Morris, the other teaching assistant, smiled at me and said it had been a good day today. J came out happily, clutching his cupcake, and took my hand to walk out of the school without any issue.

We walked part of the way home with his best friend, K, and her mum and baby sister. J and K were chatting and hugging the whole time, as they do, and when we got to the point where they head in the opposite direction to get to their house, K ran off from her mum because she wanted to come home with us. Instead of running off to join her, J stood next to me, holding my hand, and called her a silly head for running away from her mum, and told her she should come back and hold her mums hand, because we were on a main road and, as he pointed out, main roads are dangerous and she shouldn’t be running around like that next to one. When she ran back, her mum managed to get hold of her hand, and she and J hugged and kissed and said goodbye. Without any argument, J then turned and walked away from her, still holding my hand, and we walked home. A successful school pick up.

At home, he got changed and then we sat down to do his homework. He was a bit silly about it at times, and got a bit distracted, but I reminded him that it needed to be done before I’d let him watch any TV (the biggest threat there meaning he couldn’t watch his beloved DanTDM Minecraft videos on YouTube) It helped to focus him, and the homework was finished before the timer went off. He watched some YouTube videos while I cooked his dinner, and ate most of his dinner before the timer went off. A successful homework and dinner time.

Daddy P got home from work, and we watched TV together with J cuddled up on the sofa with me, and Daddy P and I ate dinner. Unfortunately it ended up that it was later than it should have been by the time J went upstairs with Daddy P and that’s where the issues started. To start off J didn’t want to get into his PJs – then he started being silly about brushing his teeth, and started arguing with Daddy P about it. It didn’t take long for this to escalate, as they (metaphorically) butted heads as only a parent and a child who share a similar personality will do. The job of brushing teeth before bed, which should in theory take only a couple of minutes, turned into a 20 minute mission with J becoming upset, frustrated, crying, shouting, kicking, hitting, calling Daddy P a meanie head and generally the both of them becoming wound up by what should have been a straightforward situation.

Once it was done, and J was back in his bedroom, the switch flicked again and J was calm, wanting cuddles, seeking my affection and wanting to snuggle down and have stories read to him, as if the screaming and shouting of the last 20 minutes hadn’t happened.

It was only a small hiccup in an otherwise fabulous day. For J, it was a tiny glitch and given that it wasn’t a huge meltdown and it only lasted 20 minutes, that was a very minor moment over the whole day. But it’s an example of how quickly his mood will swing.

It’s difficult, as his parent, not to continue feeling annoyed and disgruntled with him for the less desirable behaviour once the moment has passed and he is once again ‘up’ and behaving in a more desirable way. You have to literally take a moment to have a deep breath before you continue, because if you carry on feeling down after a glitch like that, you’ll very quickly push J back into another moment. The more moments he has over the day, the more tiring it is for you both, and the worse the day feels. If you can get over it as quickly as he does, and move onto the next moment of the day without carrying those feelings of annoyance over from one moment to the next, then you’re going to have a better day.

It’s difficult, because parents who don’t deal with this type of behaviour often (I’m sure) think I’m being soft on J, that I’m somehow not punishing him enough for the less desirable behaviour, that I’m forgiving and forgetting too easily – but he processes things and deals with things in a different way to the generally accepted way of processing and dealing, and I’ve found that for him, my way of dealing seems to work well (on the whole). I break each day down into small segments – as well as remembering that he processes differently, he is only four years old, he’s still learning and developing, and a day to him is a long period of time, so it’s important, I think, not to carry on about something that happened in the morning well into the evening – it’s lost relevance by then. By breaking the day down into smaller segments, it makes it easier for him to process and it makes it easier for him to understand consequences of his actions. There’s no point telling him off in the evening for something he did in the morning. At the end of each day, we talk about the day in segments, and I award him stickers for each segment if he has behaved well for that particular segment. If not, no sticker, and then we count up how many stickers he has earned over the whole day, so then this allows him to see whether he has had a good day or a not so good day.

I’m learning more and more each day from him on what works better, how he works, what works for us as a team as we try to understand one another, what’s expected, what’s accepted, and we both make mistakes on a daily basis. The most important thing to me, is that no matter what, J knows I’m on his side; I’m trying my best, and I know he is, too. This journey we’re on has only just begun, and it’s exhausting and overwhelming and daunting, but we’ll make it together, because after all, he’s my boy, I’m his mum, and that love gives me the strength to fight these battles with him, to stand up straight and look to the future and not to be scared of it, but to want to educate myself, and others, and to find out all I can to help me better understand how I can support him.

It does make me angry and frustrated when people stare because he’s stimming, or behaving in a way they don’t understand because he’s feeling overwhelmed in a situation, but it doesn’t help to try and deal with them at the same time, so I tend to block out everyone else and deal with J as if we’re the only two people there. Quite often when I’m doing that, other people try and talk to me, try to help, try to make suggestions, and I find it easier to ignore them, which I’m sure they think is me being rude, and in a way it is, but my point is that I need to deal with him and the issues that he is having at that time – He is my priority, and with someone else trying to interfere with that it is not helping the situation.  If they stick around for long enough after the incident for me to speak with them, I’ll try to explain, but more often than not people tend to either leave you to it or when you try and explain they think you’re making excuses for what is a badly behaved child. I’ve overheard people say that I just need to tell him no, that I need to be more strict with him, that I need to give him a smack, and trust me when I say there have been times when I’ve wondered the same myself – but I’m not soft on him, he has rules and limitations and I don’t let him run riot, so even though I have these moments of doubt I can say confidently that this isn’t the reason for his less desirable behaviour. As for giving him a smack – well no, I don’t believe that solves anything. I have slapped his hands for things like reaching toward the fire or going to poke the dog, but I’m not the sort of person who believes that smacking a child to discipline them works, on the whole. I prefer to teach by example, rather than using fear of physical injury.

We’re no closer to any kind of diagnosis, which is frustrating, because I’m still waiting for an appointment for his assessment with the CDC. Having said that, I appreciate we are already at this point in the process, as I know of other people whose children are older than J who are still waiting for their GP to provide a referral, or for their child’s school to recognise an issue and start the ball in motion. I’m relieved that J’s school picked up on it quickly, and early on, and have taken it seriously, and I’m grateful to the SENCO at his school who has been by my side from early on supporting me and guiding me to get to the bottom of it all.

We’re just taking each day as it comes – as exhausting and exhilarating as it is – but by doing that we’re getting through each week, each month – and each year. He’ll be five in a little over two months time, yet it seems like just yesterday he was born. While some days feel endless, and I’m exhausted and don’t think I can do it all again tomorrow, we’re getting there together and at the end of each day, no matter what it’s been like, when he hugs me tightly and tells me he loves me, I know absolutely that every single moment is worthwhile.

Peace & Love,

Mummy P

x x x x x

A Dramatic Improvement

Since the Major Meltdown at my brother’s house over half term, I have noticed a dramatic improvement in J’s overall behaviour. I don’t know whether it’s because he had such a huge meltdown that he got it all out of his system for a while, or whether he took note of what his Uncle J said to him that day, but whatever the reason we have had a very good couple of weeks since then. He has had his moments, but nothing more extreme than what I would expect for a four year old, and the moments have been stressful but quickly brought under control.

I am still keeping a diary of his behaviour, as if it becomes an issue again I want a record of how long the calm lasted before the storm. I am confident though that if it does eventually turn out that he is on the AS he is high functioning and it shouldn’t have a massive effect on his everyday life. He seems to be controlling himself a lot better recently, and I’ve taught him steps to control himself by breathing deeply, not saying or doing anything until he has taken a deep breath and pushed out that breath while envisioning he is pushing out the anger and frustration he is feeling. It seems to be helping for those moments when he does get upset.

I hope that it continues – he’s happier, and I’m more relaxed.

October Half-Term Holiday

In an effort to keep J entertained this half-term (and therefore make half-term less stressful for all involved) I decided the best option was to keep him busy, so I decided we'd go to my parents. It also works out better for me, as it means I have someone there to look after J while I’m getting on with work – at home alone with him on half term while I’m trying to work is next to impossible as he is interrupting me every five minutes and it makes everything take ages longer than it should to get done.

He broke up from school on the Wednesday, and while he was at school I packed our things and got the car ready for a long journey. After collecting him from school, he got changed and we got in the car. Having done the trip many times before, I prepare thoroughly – he had a small lunch bag containing various Tupperware boxes with nibbles for the journey and two bottles of drink (I also take an empty bottle with me in case of emergencies!) He had his backpack containing his (fully charged) Leappad, a notebook and pencil case, a couple of toy cars and some Lego pieces. I picked up a very handy car organiser in Aldi a couple of weeks ago for £5 and in this I put other small bits and pieces which would help keep him entertained. For me, up front in the drivers seat for 113 miles, I had a thermos travel mug of coffee and a bottle of strawberry water along with a packet of sugar free mints. We got in the car and set off for the journey.

J is very good at car journeys – he always has been, right from when he was tiny. His first ever car journey was home from the hospital like most babies – it takes about 40 mins and he slept the whole way in his CabrioFix carseat. We travel this particular journey a few times a year, normally just J and I, and we stay with my parents for a few nights and visit family and friends we don’t often get to see.

The Queen Elizabeth II bridge - Image by www.mrsmithworldphotography.com

Our journey is by default 2 hours door to door, however there is normally some kind of hold up on the way making it longer. On the way there we encountered a silly man who failed to realise the person in front had braked by the toll booths at the Dartford crossing on the M25. Police were on scene but the two damaged vehicles, plus police cars, made a bottle neck style squeeze right before the toll booths to get off the Queen Elizabeth bridge which delayed us by about 40 minutes. J was brilliant the whole time, chattering away to his invisible friends (there are many – it varies who he has with him, but at that point it was constantly Emmett and Lucy from The Lego Movie) He was building with his Lego and pretending they were helping him, I had Radio 1 on the car radio and it was all very civilised and relaxed despite the hold ups. We arrived at mums later than planned, but it wasn’t a big deal and we ate dinner as soon as we arrived then J went to bed.

Our first full day there was Thursday, and I had to work – Once mum had been to the dentists and come home again, I disappeared upstairs to work in the loft room (my old bedroom – it’s always very surreal sitting there working) Mum kept J entertained and they had a great time. The following day I came downstairs for lunch and J played up as soon as I appeared – once I went back upstairs again he was fine. It’s weird how he gets like that when there’s more than one person about.

On Saturday we piled into the car with my dad, and we drove another few miles to visit my brother, his wife and their daughter. J is obsessed with his cousin R – he loves visiting them all, and when we’re there he wants to cuddle and kiss her all the time. The trouble is, R is not a particularly tactile little lady – yet – she’s only six months old and she’s unsure of us because she doesn’t see us very often, so she tends to be worried about J’s constant affection and seeking the reassurance of her mum and dad. Since J does get himself so over excited about visiting them he does tend to go off on the deep end a bit – he starts running around, getting louder and louder, and sillier and sillier. After some work checks I suggested we all went for a walk, so we got R in the pushchair and went out. J held onto the pushchair nicely and we went to see the planes nearby, but on the way home he started getting silly and didn’t want to hold hands to walk nicely. His Uncle J and myself ended up grabbing a hand each and almost dragging him along as he screamed about wanting to hold the pushchair again – we explained if he wanted to, he’d have to walk holding hands til we caught up with his Auntie E and the pushchair, but he continued screaming and struggling the whole way. By this point my dad was beginning to understand the difficulties I have with J as he’d never really witnessed much before and it’s difficult to explain to people in a way that they realise when you say you can’t do something it isn’t for lack of trying. J held onto the pushchair and walked nicely again. Then, for reasons best known to himself, he let go, and he raced off down the road.

The road is very quiet, but it’s a turning off a busy, fast road and while the chances of him coming to any harm in their road are remote, if he’d got as far as the main road and tripped over into it or raced out to cross it in his silly mood, it could have been disastrous. Fortunately my brother can shift when he puts his mind to it and he stopped J getting any further, then held his hand back to their house. Once there, J and I went into the back garden so he could carry on running around without causing damage to their home – for a while we had a great time.

One thing about J is that even if he’s boiling hot and red faced with sweat pouring off him, he won’t think to take his sweater off or pause for a drink and catch his breath, he’ll keep going. So as he started getting hotter and sweatier, Auntie E asked him to stop and take his sweater off and have a drink. He wanted to have a drink first, and went indoors for it. He then came to the backdoor with a mouthful of squash and spat it out onto the patio.

I was so upset. We’d had a big chat just a couple of days before travelling to mums house about him spitting. It certainly isn’t a habit he’s picked up from myself or Daddy P – I think it’s absolutely disgusting and I’ve been known to tell off friends of mine for doing it! There’s no reason for spitting and yet J for some reason has always gone through phases of doing it. (Last time was when he was about 3 and he would hang over the edge of the sofa in the front room and spit onto the floor, saying he couldn’t swallow the spit in his mouth because swallowing meant going uphill due to the position he was in) My brother told him off for spitting and asked him why he’d done it. At this point, J had a meltdown.

Whether it was because it was so unexpected having my brother tell him off, whether it was because he realised that Uncle J is a force to be reckoned with (he’s a mild mannered, laid back character, but he is a stubborn and strong willed man too) whether it was because he realised as soon as he’d done it what a big mistake it was and felt silly, I don’t know, but J literally went off on one. There were tears, screams, he was struggling to get away from Uncle J’s grip, kicking out at him, yelling, he was asking me to help him because he didn’t want Uncle J to have him, all sorts. Uncle J was calm and firm, kept repeating himself to J “Why did you spit? Tell me why and I’ll let you go” for ages all J kept doing was screaming no and mummy help and it took a long time to realise that wasn’t getting him anywhere so he eventually gave Uncle J a reason – that he’d taken too big a mouthful of squash. They had a chat about taking smaller sips of squash and not spitting.

The meltdown was a fairly impressive one, considering he’s never done it in front of J and E / at their house before. Usually his really spectacular behaviour is reserved for myself and Daddy P, sometimes in front of my parents and rarely in front of Grandma and Grandad P. I was really impressed with the way my brother reacted – he kept calm, he got down on the same level as J, he spoke calmly and firmly and repeated himself and provided reasoning and everything that you’re meant to do but which sometimes, when it’s the fifth or sixth time that day and I didn’t sleep too well the night before, the things I find so difficult to do. My dad started to get really concerned with the degree of meltdown after the calm-down time and the conversation, and then without warning J suddenly revved up again and was yelling and screaming. My brother wanted to explain to him why we didn’t spit (us civilised, well mannered human beings in developed countries) and J was done listening. This meltdown I was the one trying to hold onto him as he went beserk. He landed several punches, kicked me in the stomach (I was sat on the floor trying to wrap my arms and legs around him to stop him running off or hurting himself and he managed to get me several times and with a lot of force) He started pulling my hair to get me closer to him and smack me round the face or headbutt me. He grabbed my jumper and pulled at it to expose the skin on my neck and shoulder and then grabbed it with his hand and dug in his nails. At one point I tried to wrap my arm around him and control him and he grabbed two fingers of my right hand and bent them in opposite directions as he squealed in my ear. His transformation from Jekyll into Hyde was complete, and all in front of his Uncle J, who continued dealing remarkably well, but who was obviously surprised by this behaviour.

In total, not including the five minute breather after the incident and before part 2 of the meltdown, J was screaming / yelling for two hours. It started around three, just as his cousin R went up for her nap – it didn’t finish until twenty past five, when I said to him he’d wasted our time there and it was time to pack up and go. He was upset and started getting worked up about that – I told him if he hadn’t wasted all our time being silly and having a tantrum he could have done much more playing with Lego with Uncle J, more reading 10 Little Fishes with Auntie E, more watching In The Night Garden with cousin R. I eventually had to carry him, still screaming and yelling and kicking and hitting at me, to the car and put him into the carseat then wrestle the seatbelt around him. He continued for a short time but soon realised he was getting no further reaction from me or my dad, and he calmed down. Back at their house, he kicked up a fuss about dinner and refused to eat, so he ended up going to bed with hardly any dinner but he was so exhausted by that point after such a stressful day that he fell asleep exhausted relatively early. My dad couldn't believe it – he was in total shock about the behaviour. (More about that in a later post) I may have gone to the supermarket once he was asleep (with mum and dad at home with him, obvs) and got a bottle of vodka and I may have got a little drunk that night. It wasn’t a successful day – and more than a little challenging.

Sunday I woke feeling apprehensive. After the meltdown of the previous afternoon I wasn't sure how J was going to behave and I wasn't sure if he would still be in the frame of mind where he wanted to go home. I needn't have worried – he’d slept well and woken up in a good mood and gone downstairs with my mum. He didn't mention coming home again, and we had a lovely day. On Monday I worked in the loft room again – mum’s sister, my Aunt M, came round and spent the morning with mum and J. Once again at lunchtime I went downstairs and J immediately started acting up – Aunt M had to leave, J continued to tantrum throughout lunch so eventually mum left me with J. One thing we've found when J starts acting up is that it’s made worse by having more than one person there. If you’re left with him to get on, chances are he’ll come down and it’ll be fine pretty soon. Sure enough it worked and soon we swapped, so I could go back upstairs and carry on working and mum spent the afternoon with J.

On Tuesday I was off work but mum and dad both went to work. J and I had a lovely morning – we did some crafting (we made a book!) and we watched some Thomas and some Scooby Do. At lunchtime we were treated to a visit from an old friend of mine. A is not a parent, but she adores Star Wars and Lego and her and J are good friends. We spent a wonderful afternoon with her and then J had an early bath and was ready for bed by the time my mum got home from work – I headed out for the evening, leaving mum to babysit. Mum reported that he was absolutely fine and went to bed with no arguments *relief*

We made our return journey on Wednesday. Again I loaded the car carefully to make sure J was well entertained for the duration. Once more the Dartford crossing was stuffed and added almost an extra hour to our drive time but we made it and got home by mid afternoon. It had been a tiring but on the whole a lovely time with my parents. I’m sure they needed a rest from us as much as we needed to get back to our own home by the end of it!

Love,

Mummy P

xxx

A Challenging Week

It’s been a difficult week this week. As well as still feeling poorly, and the anniversary of nan’s death, we’ve had a few incidents with J which have left me feeling like quite a failure as a mother.

At long last however, following J having a meltdown at school resulting in him physically attacking me in front of staff and other students, his teacher took me to see the SENS lady at the school. After a long conversation with her, I felt much better and slightly less of a failure.

It’s difficult to explain to someone the change that sometimes comes over J. When he’s good, he’s very, very good, when he’s bad he is awful. He gets an ‘angry face’ on with gritted teeth and he’ll lash out. At school on Thursday morning it was about taking off his coat. I tried to help – he said he didn’t need help so I stopped trying to help – he flopped to the floor, getting under foot of other parents and kids in the cloakroom, and started rolling about. I got him to his feet, said to him he couldn’t be rolling round on the floor like that because he’d get hurt, and tried again to help him take off his coat. He kicked at me – he punched me – he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked it one way while kicking me again. He’s only four, and he’s a slight build, but when the rage takes over and he starts lashing out it really is painful. And I don’t think people can appreciate how bad it gets until they’ve seen it – on Thursday it was the first time that the teachers saw him get physical with me.

The SENS lady was very understanding and very helpful and we established that J seems to have some issues surrounding certain things. She is writing a recommendation for our GP that J is assessed to see whether he needs any additional support – whether he is on the autistic spectrum at all or whether it is a case of him needing to be taught additional tools to help him learn to control his behaviour. His love of routine, order, lining things up, the way he will hold a conversation with an adult without an issue but has difficulty relating to kids his own age, all seem to point toward him being on the autistic spectrum somewhere, but at this point we need the assessment to see.

If he is, it’s not like it will make a difference to me – he’s just J as far as I’m concerned, and despite as upset as he makes me at times I do love the bones of him and would do anything to support him. I want the assessment to see if there is any additional help he can get. I don’t want him labelled as a troublemaker, or that kid who hits, or for him to be one of those children who gets to secondary school and ends up in the lower sets because he can’t concentrate properly so he ends up getting left behind with a bunch of kids who’re in the lower sets because they don’t want to apply themselves properly. (I know – I was one of the kids who ended up in the lower set for maths at school despite desperately wanting to do better I just can’t get my head around mathematics and so I ended up in a classroom of kids who only wanted to muck about and not actually learn)

It was a big relief for me to hear someone say that I was doing the best I could in difficult circumstances because for a long time I’ve felt like I’m failing him in some core way by not being able to deal with him properly 100% of the time. I’m fed up of feeling like a bad parent because he runs off and refuses to come back to me; or when he starts kicking off and getting physical with me. Early this week another child from his class was removed from the school to attend a specialist school due to his difficulties and the fact that the school J is at cannot provide the support this other kid needed. When speaking to the SENS lady about this she did say that J’s behaviour was noticeably worse when the other child was around because he would copy the bad behaviour. Now the other child has gone they hope that will help to calm J down considerably but she and his teachers agree there may be an underlying reason for his behaviour difficulties.

I refuse to call days “good” or “bad” any more. We would have far too many bad days and I feel that’s like telling J he is doing something “wrong”. I prefer to say he has had a difficult day, or a challenging day, and when he gets upset and starts lashing out rather than tell him that is wrong I’m explaining why he shouldn’t do it, that it makes the other person feel sad and hurt, and we’ve had a few less difficult times this week. I don’t know if that’s a result of the other kid leaving school, or because I’m going at it from a different direction or a combination, or maybe it’s just because he’s getting over his cold so he is sleeping better. His behaviour is always worse when he’s ill, because he doesn’t sleep well. He was always such a good sleeper as a baby but after he got to 2.5yrs that went out the window – he’ll be in our bed four nights out of seven at least by six o’clock in the morning.

Today he is being very attention seeking. Since waking me up at 8am by screaming and smacking me because Daddy P had gone to work without saying goodbye to him (we were both still asleep) he has been constantly demanding. I’ve had two days off work sick this week so I’m desperately trying to catch up, as well as do the housework that hasn’t been done all week because I’ve been unwell (those damn housework fairies never did show up to lend a hand!) every time I try to do something he’s interrupting me – he wants a drink, he wants something to eat, he wants me to help him with part of his game, he wants me to watch him playing his game, he needs the loo, he wants to play with my phone, whatever. It means everything is taking twice as long as it should because I can’t just get on and do it. I eventually asked for some quiet time and during that quiet time he sat there getting closer and closer saying “mummy, mummy, mummy” constantly until I snapped. I got up and told him to leave me alone for a moment while I calmed down and went into the kitchen. He followed me “mummy, mummy, mummy” so I went upstairs for a while. I feel terrible when I do this but it’s either walk away or shout at him and I’m trying my hardest not to shout. It’s not his fault I feel so shit. It’s not his fault I can’t split myself in four pieces so one piece can do housework while the other plays with him while the other works and the other catches up on sleep. It’s just all been snowballing and getting so much to cope with that I don’t feel like I’m able to cope anymore. Not like this. Which is why I’m so relieved that the school have finally started taking me seriously and are helping. I’ve been asking them since he started Nursery for some assistance. A year and a bit later we’re finally getting there.

I know, if he is on the spectrum, a diagnosis is a long way off. I know, if he is on the spectrum, this is just a baby step into a very long journey but the way I’m looking at it is, at least we’ve taken that step.

Now, I’m going to have a coffee and spend some time playing with him.

Love,

Mummy P

Can We Start The Week Over, Please? It Didn't Go To Plan ...

What with one thing and another, it’s been a pretty rubbish week this week!

On Sunday last week I started getting a sore throat and sneezes. Not normally so much of a biggie for me – a day or two of sneezing and coughing and I’m usually over these things quickly. Not so this time. On the Monday I had to be in the office for an important meeting – of course – so while I was trying to be professional and give a good impression my nose was streaming, my eyes were red and watery and I couldn't pronounce anything properly as my nose became more and more blocked as the meeting wore on. On Tuesday I should have been off work, but due to some training I had swapped my days off so I was back in the office, this time with the cold in full force, coughing and sneezing and feeling utterly hell while I learned about new products and then came home to bury myself in questions about existing products.

By Wednesday I was exhausted. I had a day off work and I’d been planning a long-overdue visit to a friend but instead I installed myself on the sofa with a duvet, a pot of coffee and a pile of toast and I watched episodes of Breaking Bad all day in my pyjamas. Thursday I was expecting to feel loads better so I vowed to do the housework then. It didn't happen. I felt just as rough on Thursday and just about managed to get J to school and get home before I collapsed. Popping cold and flu tablets along with vitamins as if they were going out of fashion I struggled to work on Friday and was grateful when my mum arrived to collect J from school and whisk him off for the weekend. I had a wonderful lie in on Saturday which helped tremendously – unfortunately J was also poorly and on Saturday night I got a text from my mum saying he was crying for Mummy, so I phoned her and she said she was packing up his stuff and would be on way to us soon. Sure enough they were at ours within an hour and I was trying to soothe my grumpy, irritable, overtired and poorly little boy who had been crying for Mummy but upon sight of Mummy decided I couldn’t do anything right so he was moaning and whinging and having a right old go at me about everything I did!

This morning I woke up with that familiar belly and back ache coupled with a feeling of sickness that women everywhere know and which makes you roll your eyes with hate every time it happens. Oh yes. Coupled with this damn cold – which has still knocked me for six – I now had that to deal with as well, and that always tends to be a particular issue for me. I have a long and argumentative history with it, including vomiting, nausea and migraines. I had hoped that Daddy P might say “its OK my love, stay in bed a while and I’ll get up with J” but no, I was woken to the noise of them arguing and it’s been a theme for the day.

They wind one another up like you wouldn’t believe. This morning J was trying to wake up Daddy P – admittedly he wasn’t doing it in the nicest or best possible way – but still I found Daddy P’s shortness of dealing with it somewhat surprising at eight o’clock in the morning all things considered. I mean, he’d just woken up and he was that annoyed already? Jeez what a fun day this looked set to be. All J wanted was for his daddy to wake up, and talk to him, play with him, spend some time with him. All Daddy P wanted was for J to go away and leave him alone so he could sleep. And he wonders why at times I could cheerfully smack him … Sunday is now the single day of the week where J doesn’t have school and Daddy P doesn’t have work, so really you’d think he’d be raring to make the most of that precious time together.

I ended up getting up with J and left Daddy P in bed. We came downstairs, we had breakfast (I had lots of coffee and painkillers) we played a game, we snuggled on the sofa, he helped me do some housework and just past eleven Daddy P finally came downstairs. Almost immediately him and J were on at one another – there’s no half measures, either Daddy P is doing nothing or he’s having a go at J. There’s no warning from the other side, either – J will go from lovely playing to horrible demon child in the blink of an eye with Daddy P. I think it’s because he knows he will get an extreme reaction, but of course I can’t say anything because whenever I do then Daddy P just gets annoyed with me, too. I generally try to stay out of it, or take J away and deal with it myself which while not ideal is the best option if the other one is Daddy P loosing his rag. This morning it was all going well with me sitting in the garden working on my laptop and J was chalking on his blackboard. The moment Daddy P appeared, J decided to start chalking the walls of the house as if that was OK or ever acceptable. So I asked him not to, and immediately I was shouted over by Daddy P who’d gone from 0 to 60 and was immediately in pissed off mode and having a go instead of a firm, “please don’t do that” The threat of taking the chalk away was then used about a million times with no follow-through on the threat, so of course J took this as an invitation to do as he pleased because there was no worry about the threat being upheld. After a million warnings the chalk was suddenly swept up and put away, resulting in a major meltdown because after all, the previous million warnings hadn’t meant anything so why was this one different? In his mind it made no sense. (He wasn’t the only one who felt that way …)

All day has been the same. Five minutes of nice playing together, then one of them does something and sets the other off moaning and before I know it they’re bickering. Daddy P seems to forget that J is four, not fourteen, you can’t reason with him as much as you might be able to with an older child. He expects a lot from him, and I think he forgets because J does act quite mature a lot of the time that he is only four, he’s still just little and there is so much more he doesn’t yet understand or know how to process and react to. There’s also the fact that J knows exactly how to wind us both up, and he’ll go right ahead and press that button if he feels like he’s not getting enough of a reaction out of you already. He’s always been the same, but instead of learning, Daddy P just seems to get more wound up more quickly these days.

So the long and short of it was that this week was rubbish and this day was one of the worst. The single day I get in seven to spend time with my husband and my son.  Tomorrow J is off to school and I am off to the office and Daddy P can sit and play Lego Lord Of The Rings if that’s what he chooses to do.  I hope next week is better all round – though at the moment I’m feeling so lousy it’s already off to a bad start.

To my knowledge a video game is not something to get so upset about. J and Daddy P feel passionately differently and arguments will regularly occur about the video games. I can't tell you how many times I've felt like chucking the games console and all games in the bin!

Off to bed early for me tonight with a hot chocolate and some more painkillers!

Love, Mummy P xxx

Homework For a 4 Yr Old

This week has been tiring, to say the least.

J’s second full week at full-time school – he’s bound to be tired. Like me, when he’s tired, he’s irritable, short tempered and moody. He’s four, so I have to take this into account as well as the fact that I’m just as bad! He’s had homework, too, which surprised me for the first full weeks – they went from mornings only for a year of nursery, then mornings only for a week, then straight into full days and homework!

The problem I’ve found, is that not eating dinner by 6pm means a huge battle with J about eating it. By that point he’s too tired; he’s fussing, he’s whinging, he’s distracted. It’s a nightmare. So, I started giving him his dinner earlier and earlier til it works – he’s now eating around four / four thirty. This means by the time we’re home from school, and he’s changed out of his uniform and gone to the loo and is back downstairs with a drink, it’s time for me to start cooking. It takes him up to an hour on a  good day to eat dinner, so you’re looking at it being at least five o’clock before he’s finished, normally half past. At that point, Daddy P comes home so naturally J is distracted talking to him and whatever, so then time gets round to six or half past and it’s time for our dinner – if I don’t do it then, we won’t end up eating til ridiculously late.

While our dinner is cooking Daddy P will try to sit with J to do his homework.

This week we’ve been practising writing letters each night, and there was maths homework to do over the week and finish by Friday. By this point in the evening J just wants to relax. Getting him to knuckle down and do the homework is difficult. Most times it’s only half done by the time they have to stop for Daddy P to have dinner. After that, it’s time for J to go upstairs and get ready for bed – I aim to have him in bed between 7.30 and 8 or else it’s a nightmare with him being too tired and screaming / crying / yelling.

Daddy P and myself have had several very trying encounters with J over almost anything and everything, from brushing teeth and going to the loo before bed to scribbling in the homework book and throwing things. J has been tired and frustrated and lashing out. It’s been tough.

Just how are parents expected to manage the juggle of homework on top of schoolwork at such a young age? I’m trying to do my best by getting a decent dinner into him and trying to ensure he gets a full nights sleep – which at four years old, he generally sleeps from 8.30 / 9 til 7.30 in the morning, and I think that’s reasonable. It makes me wonder, is four too young to be in full time school? Is he really ready for this, emotionally or physically? I could have deferred him for another year, due to where his birthday falls, and had him doing nursery now and reception next year – but last year he was so ready to start nursery, and to be honest I think he’s benefitting hugely already from being in reception – in two weeks he’s learned the A, B, C song as well as counting to thirty (he could do to 10 before) He’s reading me books – not because he knows how to actually read all the words, but because he’s memorised all of them, which is to me a basic step toward reading, and to my absolute delight he loves reading. At the moment, What's In The Witch's Kitchen remains a firm favourite but has been joined by The Hungry Caterpillar and Whatever Next, stories I remember reading to my brother when he was a child.

I’d like him to go to bed a bit earlier, but Daddy P says then he’d never get to spend any time with J. He has a point, but most families surely must find the same issue? Myself, when I was at school, my mum was a hairdresser in a salon til I was 8, and then worked from home, and my dad worked as an ambulance technician. If both of them were working I would be looked after by either my nan and granddad or my cousin. My dad’s shifts meant that sometimes he would be leaving for work before I got home from school, finishing after I’d gone to bed at night, and would be asleep when I left for school the next morning. During shifts like that, sometimes I’d go three or four days without actually seeing him at all. I don’t know whether it was more ‘normal’ then because of the whole ‘role’ of each parent in the nuclear family, or whether because both Daddy P and I work and have always worked such odd hours, but it certainly seems to me that it can’t be something that no other family finds.

And how about families with more than one child’s homework to get through? If one or both parents is working shift work, or even if they’re not – there never seem to be enough hours in the day as it is. You’re torn between cooking a nice fresh meal, doing housework and helping everyone get their homework done on time as well as trying to deal with a full time job. On top of shopping, cooking, cleaning, feeding the animals, there’s e-mails, unhappy customers, product launches and meetings. Several of my friends have partners in the armed services, and have to cope as a single parent effectively for weeks on end while their other halves are away – I also know several single parent families. That must be even more difficult to get everything done. How do people do it? I suppose you just have to, but still!

One thing is for sure, J is definitely tired today – we had a wonderful afternoon with friends, but he wore himself out so much that he had a major meltdown when we left and then another two once home! He was in bed by 8 but I’m not sure when he fell asleep as it was Daddy P’s turn to put him to bed and he fell asleep up there himself!

Tomorrow we have nothing planned; I need to pop to the shops and get a couple of bits but apart from that I’ve done loads of work hours this week already so not much more of that to do which means I can enjoy a nice lazy day with my family.

Bye for now!

Mummy P x

19th September 2014

It’s Friday evening. I’ve got a film on (but I’m not really watching it) I’ve just finished work for the evening and Daddy P, both the Hairy Hounds and our Dragon are all asleep around me in the front room and my baby boy is asleep upstairs.

Except he’s not a baby boy anymore. He’s a whole, big, grown-up four years old and today was the end of his first week at full time school. We’ve had a good week, on the whole – I’ve moved dinner time up for him from 6 to 4.30 / 5 in order for him to get in from school and have dinner quite early, meaning by the time Daddy P is home from work he just gets to play with J before bedtime. J gets very ratty and we have issues getting him to eat when he’s tired – as I’m sure is the same with many other children – and so this works better as it means he’s eating before he gets to that tired point where he’ll argue about eating and it all ends in tears.

Every morning he cheerfully woke, got dressed in his tiny little uniform that makes him look far too grown up, and we walked the two or three minutes down the road to his school. We went into his classroom, and he quite happily waved me off each morning. Each afternoon I collected him he was full of excited chatter about what had happened, the t-shirt that I’d put on him first thing bright, white and tucked into his trousers now looking smudged and rumpled and untucked from his trousers. Each afternoon his shoes were a bit more scuffed on the toe, his hair was wild and damp with sweat, and I found his sweatshirt crumpled in the bottom of his locker.

I made friends (sort of) with some other mums in the playground – you know how you see the same group of people all the time, and you start off smiling, then it’s a good morning, a hello and a wave as you cross the playground and then you’re standing there chatting to them and someone else they know comes up and joins in and before you know it there’s a group of you stood there nattering first thing, the only thing you have in common the fact that your kids go to this school.

He’s got homework again this weekend. Last weekend his homework was to cover his homework book, which Daddy P did on Sunday night after J had gone to bed. This weekend we’ve got to draw a set of numbers from 0-10 and add images to them like four ducks, five balls, six cakes and all of that,l colour them in and peg them up on a length of ribbon or string over J’s bed. I’m dubious how much of this I will end up doing but I’m going to make a start with him tomorrow anyway. Maybe if I spread it out over a couple of days the interest will hold and he’ll finish it off.

I used my new found freedom this week to my best advantage – on Tuesday I drove to visit some good friends in another village, which takes about an hour to get to, but we had a lovely morning drinking tea and gossiping – last time I saw her was on her wedding day so I looked through her beautiful wedding photographs and then her husband went to pick up their two boys from nursery school.  The following day I did a serious turf out of the kitchen. It’s been desperate for it for ages but I just haven’t had the time – I started at 9.30 on Wednesday morning and didn’t finish til 2.30 in the afternoon! I felt so much better for it – I’m not a fan of housework but if I have chance to do it properly and just crack on and do it I’ll have a mad blitz which is exactly what I did.

I know all mums say it, but time is going so quickly. It doesn’t seem possible he’s four already. It’s not been plain sailing but I’ve honestly not enjoyed anything else as much as I enjoy being his mum. Whatever else happens in my life, I achieved at least that one perfect thing. I got to be a mum to a brilliant, fantastic, amazing little boy so it wasn’t all bad!