Monday, September 29, 2014

How distressed ham and old boots nearly ruined a night out

Going out post kids is a whole new thing, and I'm not just talking about the need for getting the babysitter, the hell of the 6am start after the 4am finish, or the fear of parenting with a hangover.  No I'm referring to those precious hours before you go out.  Do you remember when you used to have it all planned?  A long leisurely shower, plus manicure, pedicure, epilation, rehydration, moisturisation, loud music, soft lighting, make up, trying on clothes, and perhaps a few friends around to help.

Oh how things have changed...

Now you know the key is to act indifferent to the whole thing, maybe just mention the night out in passing, with promises of pizza and cake.  Try and act normal and don't let the kids realise that you actually need some time to get ready.

The problem is that the more kids you have, the longer you need, and the less time you have available.  It keeps getting squeezed.  Which is how I ended up on Saturday night as a hot sweaty mess with unfed kids and a lost birthday present and a hour to go before I was due to meet some very good friends.

First there was the ham emergency.  Someone had opened both packets, and over a week ago.  Which meant there's none for the child who insists on having ham sandwiches for tea.  I persuade him to eat the last of my smoked salmon instead.  Time consuming, but quicker than a trip to Lidl.

As time ticks by my preparation plans gradually get pared back.  The shower is replaced by baby wipes.  The manicure becomes a quick file of the nails that have torn off.  I pick the dress that requires the least amount of hair removal.

I discover that I was right about my GHD not working any more, when after 15 minutes of trying to tame my wire wool locks into submission and failing, I steal borrow my daughter's GHD and suddenly my hair will do an approximation of shiny and straight.  At least for an hour or so.

As it gets dark I go to switch on the lights, and find that one is blown.  Not just any old light bulb, but the one on the landing that has to be left on all night to ensure that sleepage occurs.  So I haul the ladder in from the shed trying not to trip over my dress and fumble around in the dark keeping my fingers crossed that I don't get mercury poisoning.

Then the sink plugs could not be found, which added a frisson of danger to putting in the contact lenses.  I dig out last year's lovely suede boots to find them covered in dust.  But no-one will see that in the dark, right?

A quick dash downstairs to change the DVD on the electronic babysitter with one eye made up and praying that no-one rings the doorbell.  Wouldn't it be great if you could justify having a babysitter for a couple of hours before you go out?

Something was needed to calm me down,  My secret stash of chocolate had been raided, but luckily not the Bacardi and coke.

A guilty text to my friends to say that I was running late.  Again.  And then I was out the door.  I made it.  And I was very glad to be a part of a very special celebration.





Friday, September 26, 2014

Everything seems a little more hopeful

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, a red geranium is swaying in the September breeze, and everything seems a little more hopeful.  There are still a lot of challenges to be faced, but maybe, just maybe, I am more able for them than I have been for a very long time.  But I still feel the need to write up my reasons to be cheerful, so here they are:

Diagnosis


The results are back and my lung problem is something unpronounceable but not life-threatening.  The prescription?  Physiotherapy, regular flu vaccinations and lots and lots of exercise!  So I'm determined to make the exercise fun and go to the occasional class with friends while the kids are at school, or run along the beach rather than pound the pavements along streets I've seen a thousand times before.

Music


I grew up surrounded by music: my father, his father and I all played the piano, I sang in the school choir and a couple of groups.  I always assumed that my children would be the same, but so far my piano sits unloved and unplayed in the back room.  Yet my son always showed an interest in music, both at home and at school, but never went quite as far as learning an instrument.  Until now.  In his secondary school all the boys begin learning the recorder in second year, and my son has taken up this challenge with gusto.  I know this because my ears tell me that he has spent more time on his music homework than any other subject.  It's a good start.

Progress


Well since I wrote the post about being offered meetings instead of services, things have been happening for Smiley.  Perhaps it's just a coincidence though.  But the shower chair is now being repaired, I have a replacement tray for the broken one on her wheelchair, the respite issues are being addressed, and appointments have been made to investigate her sleeping problem.  All is improving in her world.

Special friends


When I started yoga two years ago I only knew the lovely lady who organised it.  But being me, I started sharing the details of the classes all over social media, and interest slowly grew.  And at this week's class I was surrounded by friends, not just the new ones I've made but also five friends I've met through special needs.  Oh and I still try and put my yoga mat beside the door!

Reasons to be Cheerful


Striking Mums


As you probably know by now 'reasons to be cheerful' is about looking at the positive things in your life and the good things that happened over the previous seven days.  It's blogging as a form of therapy, and I find it very helpful.  So I'm also planning to join in with this new initiative from Kate on Thin Ice .  This week's theme is "Being Different is Good", something I know all about as a special needs Mum!  Here's her questions, and my answers:

1. Are you different and, if so, how?

I guess I feel that everyone is unique so we are all different, but perhaps some of us are more different than others.  There's a good chance that I have Asperger's Syndrome like my son, and that would explain a lot of the difficulties I had as a teenager, my social awkwardness and the constant niggling lack of self-confidence that I just could never seem to fit in anywhere.

2. Do you celebrate your uniqueness or strive to fit in?

A bit of both.  Social media helps, as I've found other adults who are obsessed with everything Tolkien, indie music and fast cars!

3. Are you ever judgemental of other mums who are different from you? Answer honestly even if only in your own head.

I try very hard not to be judgemental, but I'm sure I am: some very harsh parenting methods upset me for example.

4. What would you like to be different about you?

To have better social skills.

5. Have you ever being attacked or bullied for being different? How did that affect you?

Yes. I was an uberconfident child, but bullying in my teenage years changed me completely, though I learned to act confident, even if I didn't feel it.

6. If you had to write an advert for yourself as a limited edition, what would you say to make people think you were great?

I wouldn't want anyone to think I was great!  

And that's all for this week...


Kate on thin Ice Striking Mums




Sunday, September 21, 2014

Ten things not to do in front of the kids (except I did)

It should have been a traditional family experience.  Loving responsible grown up Mum brings offspring to the cinema for a treat.



What could possibly go wrong?  Well bearing in mind that they are all 13 plus, it was one cringefest after another...

1.  I'm all about "safety first" as my kids often remind me, so I wear my lovely Mia Tui bag cross body.  Under my coat.  So apparently I look deformed.  "Just why Mum, why?"

2.  Run back to the car one last time when we're half way down the street to check that I locked it.  Not that anyone would ever steal it.

3. Listen to kids and then take off coat in public and rearrange bag.  Of course that just ratcheted up the embarrassment factor.

4. Having to stop walking to send a text.

5. Getting in a flap at the counter when asked where we want to sit (this is new, no?) and then proceeding to explain in great detail to the poor ticket seller why I have to sit on the end of a row.

6.  Forget to lower my voice as we go into the auditorium.

7. Sit down.  Phone alarm promptly goes off.  The one to remind me to water the plants.  Children edge away.

8. I am unable to keep quiet.  Next up, I have to blow my nose.  And it's really not possible to do that quietly is it?

9. Trying to inconspicuously film the bomb scare in Henry Street afterwards.  "Do you have to, Mum?"

10. Selective hearing in Aldi.  Apparently I do this all the time: I don't listen at all, or I mishear what people are saying.  "Cash card," asked the checkout operator.  "No thanks,"  I replied, thinking that Aldi had introduced something new.  Someone behind me in the queue tittered, and I realised that there was a missing "or" somewhere...  Angel just shook her head.   But I mean who does listen to checkout operators when you're busy trying to pack shopping bags, and get the payment out and possibly manage a child in a buggy too?

Or is it just me?

Saying that, and despite doing all those things in front of the kids, they still had a good evening, and so did I.

What have you done lately to embarrass your kids?


Friday, September 19, 2014

Looking after number one

It's been a week of blah.  I'd planned my regular reasons to be cheerful post, but all the things I hoped to feature did not happen.  I have to wait.

And some of the waiting is leading to stress and a few glasses of wine.  But mostly I'm using the time to look after myself.  Because for the first time in many years I finally have some spare time: I'm not doing any paid work now, and my two teenagers have - so far - been to school every single day since the new term started.

So I'm trying to retrain the way I think and not feel guilty about taking time out.

When I was working in a well paid job, I happily enjoyed some 'me' time every day, even though I had 3 young children.  But that changed once I became a lone parent, and even more so after I lost my job.  I felt that I had to justify my existence by doing Mum things 24/7, especially as the voices in the head reminded me of all the people over the years who had told me that I was cold, horrible, lazy, mean, useless and worthless, and other stuff like that.

Counselling helped, but until now, even my counsellor failed to persuade me to take a proper break.  I just couldn't do it!

You see I'd begun to believe all the things they said and the only way I could keep those demons at bay was by doing things for other people, especially my children.  If I did anything for myself I found a way to justify it in terms of the children:

...Going on Facebook meant that I was looking for new ideas to help them.
...Blogging was to keep me sane so that I could be a better Mum.
...Ditto seeing my friends.
...Exercise was to keep me healthy so that I can take care of Smiley for a very long time.

So to cut short a lot of self-reflection, I've finally accepted that I didn't deserve to be told those things, and that my worth does not solely depend on what I do for others.  Just being me is enough.  And doing things just for me is perfectly okay.

I think that counts as a good reason to be cheerful, don't you?


Reasons to be Cheerful



Tuesday, September 16, 2014

When you're offered meetings instead of services

Dear meeting organiser,

Thank you for your letter about the information meeting.

I hope that you will understand that I am not really interested in a pie in the sky document that no doubt took many well paid man and woman hours to produce when I can't get a therapist on the phone, I've had to cancel my daughter's one night a month respite again due to concerns about her care, and this year's school leavers from my daughter's school had not started in adult services last time I checked.

Also the meeting time clashes with my children's bedtime.

Yours sincerely

Smiley's Mam

This is the email that I nearly sent last night after receiving an invitation to a briefing meeting about the draft Interim Standards for New Directions, a document produced by the Irish Health Service about standards in adult services for people with disabilities.  I spent longer than I should wading through the 87 pages of jargon yesterday.  It's all very worthy and PC-friendly with lots of aspirations and plans for more meetings, and information sessions and documents to be signed, as well as plans and reviews and monitoring and evaluation.

It also looked like just another tick box exercise.

Has Smiley had her behaviour support plan?  Yep.  Tick.

Has she been encouraged to try out new experiences? Yep. Tick.

Has her personal plan been reviewed? Yep. Tick.

Is there anywhere suitable for her?  Nope. Tick.

Is there any funding available?  Nope. Tick.

Oh well, she'll have to stay at home then.   But everything is fine, because everyone has done their job, and all the little boxes have been ticked.

Actually no, everything is not fine in this scenario.  My daughter deserves better than that.

If Smiley's service provider wants to earn my respect, they need to stop organising meetings and start improving services.

And the reason I didn't send the email?  Because I'm afraid that all they'll do with it is tick the box that says "not attending"....

Note: I realise that my children are luckier than many in that they do have services.  But I still have the right to complain - if I don't we could all up with nothing.



Monday, September 15, 2014

Giving to get

We'll give you a pound for every mile you run, they said.  With a slight snigger.  After all I was far better known for partying than athletics.  So it was with great satisfaction that I collected £13 from each of them.  And handed a large cheque to a long forgotten charity.

Now there are requests for money every single day it seems.  Some more successful than others.  And the massive success of the Ice Bucket Challenge got me thinking about what makes me want to give to charity.

And what makes me vow never to donate:

...Chuggers.
...Begging letters.
...Pushy (charity) sales people on the doorstep, especially at dinner time.
...Charities that seem to use donations to top up the pay and pensions of the management team, and build shiny new headquarters for their offices.

My blood pressure is rising just thinking about it.

Other things make me reach for my purse faster than you can say famine in Africa.

Make it easy for me, make it fun, make me feel good, and don't put me under pressure.  Perhaps I'm selfish, but it's even nicer if I get something out of it too.

I didn't pour icy water over my head, but I did give money to the Irish Motor Neurone Disease Association - text donations make it sooo easy.  I also regularly sponsor friends on Facebook, but I prefer to do it anonymously.  I'd hate to be thanked publicly and feel that I might be putting other people under pressure to give money too.

Charity events can be fun: I used to enjoy pub quizzes, though it's a bit mad paying a babysitter in order to go!  The Dublin Women's Mini Marathon is also a favourite, but I haven't had enough free time to train for it in recent years.

But giving to charity and getting something beautiful and useful in return is the best feeling of all.  Dublin autism charity Snowflakes has the right idea with its range of snuggly hoodies.  I am now the proud owner of one, bought as a way of saying thank you for all the teen events that my son enjoyed attending.

And I thought I'd got enough charity clothes, until I spotted this T-shirt.



It is for a charity I'd never heard of before: Genetic Disorders UK, and it is part of their fundraising Jeans for Genes day on Friday 19th September - that's this week people - which raises funds to provide vital care and support to children with genetic disorders and their families.  It turns out that the work of this charity could be relevant to Smiley as one day a genetic disorder could be identified as the cause of her problems.  But besides that, I love the T-shirt.  If you do too, you can buy one here.

I still think that charities are not the most efficient way to deliver services to those who need them, but in the meantime I'm happy to give to them when I get something in return.  Even if it's just the satisfaction of proving that you can run 13 miles.

What makes you give to charity?


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Looking for reasons to be cheerful

I used to yearn for a quieter and more settled life, but an older wiser woman told me that it would never happen.  And I'm beginning to think that she was right.  As soon as something gets better, something else goes wrong.  Here I have two new battles to fight: for Smiley's future and my own health.  My mystery lung problem is still not resolved, but I'm off to the consultant tomorrow.   I'm not anxious about that at all, oh no!  And I'm hearing nasty rumours about services for adults with disabilities, which I will have to secure for Smiley as she finishes at her wonderful school next summer.  Expect more blogging on this topic soon.

But today is all about the good stuff...

Back to school


This has been the best start ever to the school year.  Everything I did (and didn't do) over the summer seems to have paid off.  The mornings are mostly going to plan, no school days have been missed, and homework is being tackled methodically.  Of course he's still complaining about it, but what teenager doesn't?

And a break from school troubles is what gives me reasons to be cheerful numbers 2 and 3..

Exercise and photography


Not much exercise was got over the summer, apart from the occasional bit of wheelchair pushing.  It suited me not to be aware of my lung problems either.  But with an appointment looming, I've been doing my best to make my symptoms as bad as possible so the consultant will take me seriously.  That meant lots of strenuous exercise and clearing and cleaning all the dusty stuff in the house and garden.

The exercise has been made a lot easier by my new phone, which has a working FM radio, and a pretty good camera too for when I spot something interesting.  I believe that it's a rule that you can stop running to take a photo, if it means you end up running further..


The list is getting shorter.


During the summer I felt completely overwhelmed by everything that needed to be done, from essential house maintenance, to clearing my wrecked garden, to tackling my two in-trays, to entertaining two teenagers with very different interests.   But unless I'd left them in front of screens all day, it would've been impossible to tackle the "to do" list.  With them both gone for several hours each day I'm now ticking things off the list faster than I'm adding them.  And that is comforting.

Exhibit 1: Let there be light

Yep, we had no kitchen light over the summer, but then it wasn't dark until after bedtime and the under counter lights gave great atmosphere.  But with winter coming in, changing the light bulb became a priority.  One that needed quiet and no interruptions.  You see it's not just a simple process of twist and pull.  Sadly for a DIY-challenged Mum, the shade comes away in two parts, one of which would shatter if dropped, which could easily happen as you carefully remove the screws that hold the whole thing up.   And then there's the need to buy another H-shaped light bulb.  You wouldn't find one of them in Tesco!  But it's done now.

No idea why my ceiling looks brown in this photo

Exhibit 2: I can see the grass at last

Do you remember when my garden fell down?  With the help of a friend, the massive clearance job got off to an impressive start, but then the summer holidays happened and the garden was left attractively featuring two enormous dead shrubs and a dozen bin liners of dying leaves and twigs.

Now it looks like this.  Not great I know.  But it was a lot worse this time last week.  And at least I can see the grass that needs to be cut now.



Perhaps next year I'll be able to sit on that bench and enjoy the view.  Now there's a cheerful thought.


Reasons to be Cheerful