Month: July 2011

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Aberdeen Beach

We tried to find a way to amuse the kiddos on Tuesday, which saw us visit Transition Extreme. It is a skatepark for BMX’ers, skateboarders and climbers

My boys need to do the training before they are allowed to enter the park, so it was disappointment all round as I booked them in for next week as there were no slots left for this week.

Leaving TA with dejected faces, I took them to Codonas. It has long been the little carnival that is resident in our little home City.

I’m sharing some of the pictures of the only sunny day we’ve been privy to for three weeks now.

Beware.. When you buy a Codonas wrist band for the day, you get a ticket entitling you to a free kids meal for every adult meal purchased. When you try to order it, you are pointed to a large board with a corrected statement that says you only get a kids main course.

They refuse to honour the ticket.

Apart from that, it was a lovely afternoon for the boys.

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My Vege Bags

My little pots are growing their leaves and flowers, and I hope, that eventually we will manage to have some lovely little flowers from the pots and containers that are full of gorgeous leaves.  Whether they actually have some fruit or not remains to be seen, but hopefully they do.     I have spent hours (ok minutes) tending these lovely pots and bags to try to turn my non gardening fingers into some semblance of a growers beginnings.

Here for your enjoyment, in all the Scottish dreary weather are some shots of my growing pot collection.

I did try to hold off until the sun showed its’ smiley face again, but I suspect that might not be anytime soon.

Ok, ok, I know these are not vegetables, but some pansies and geraniums make lovely pictures.

The strawberries are nearly ripe for picking (all three of them).  There are two more, honestly, there are.

Leeks and Onions and Lettuce are really doing well.

My potatoes are growing up a storm.

And apart from the carrots on either end, I have no idea what is growing in the  middle of my trough.

My neighbour gave me the seedlings and I planted them.  She cannot remember what they were.  If you recognise the leaves, do let me know.

Thats it for now.  I’ll post more when I start to harvest my little crop.

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Thinking Slimmer and the Future of Suggestion Therapy

I think it is about time that I updated my Thinking Slimmer #slimpod journey.

I am now coming up to 5 weeks on the programme.  Many of you will have heard a lot about Thinking Slimmer by now, and all about the bloggers who are trialling the mp3 pods that give us the power of suggestions to help us change our attitudes to food.

I have spent my entire life thinking about food, obsessing about food, wishing for food, wishing to be thin, obsessing about my weight, and being paraniod about it.  When I was thin, obsessing about everying I ate, how much, and when.  There is NOTHING worse as an adult female in company, than to look around the room, and realise that you are the fattest person there.  It’s humiliating, it’s awful, and it stinks.  It made me feel disgusting and not worthy.      That’s maybe not how I looked, but it’s how it made me FEEL.    How we FEEL about ourselves is the important thing.  Yes, some people are happy fat.  I have never been a happy fatty.  I have turned down many many invitations to events and nights out because I could not face going fat.  Life is so short, that it is completely the wrong attitude to have, but it’s the one that I had.

At my heaviest, I had to buy size 20 / 22 tops and if I am honest, they were probably a little bit neat.  I had lost a couple of stone last year, but I couldn’t get down any lower.  I was convinced that the only way was to starve myself into my self imposed rules for society’s acceptance.

After just weeks of listening to this little file on my phone every night, I am feeling human again.  As an emotional and stress eater, I really thought that the power of the #slimpod would wear off, and I would struggle as the stress took over.   I find the opposite to be true.  I also find that with the emotional aspect involved, that I sometimes need to listen to the #slimpod during the day at difficult times when the stress makes me move toward the kitchen cupboard.  A set of headphones on low, the file on, and I get control again until the next big stress moment.  I have a very challenging special needs child so stressful days are very often, as are very stressful moments within a day.

I am finding the increasing confidence that I am beginning to have, is taking me back to the days before I lost my way.  My food choices are becoming very different.   I have always been a carb girl.  Put a bowl of crisps in front of me (as long as they are not plain) and I will happily finish the bowl, while my body will crave the bowl to be filled up again, just for me.

Even friends buy me crisps for when I go round, knowing that I will eat them (ALL).  I am the perfect guest who will stuff her face silly with crisps and dip.  Let me rephrase, that.  I USED to be the perfect guest.   I am now confident enough to be able to ask the host/ess not to have them out.  If everyone can cope with that, then it will be fantastic.  I suspect it is difficult for everyone as crisps and dips are a quick, cheap and easy way to feed guests.

I am losing weight weekly.  I have absolutely no idea what  my current weight it and I have no intention of weighing myself to find out as I am going to rigidly stay with my no weighing policy.  It is working fantastically so far, and I have NO scales weight hangups in an up week, or in any week where I only lose half a pound and then get paranoid about it.

I am in the van so have limited clothes to try on to see what fits and have had to buy some Tesco things to see me through.    I AM into my size 14 Tesco jeans – go me.  My size 16’s are all too big now.    OK, they are all BIG size 16’s, but still.    I have a few cheap size 16 Sainsburys T-Shirts I keep in the van and they are all lovely and loose, and getting a little too big as well.  I usually wear a top that is about two sizes bigger than my jeans to fit my boobs into.   They are shrinking.

I am eating more than I used to eat when I was a huge carb girl.   I am getting most of my carbs from strawberries, tangerines and melons.  I am eating shedloads of cherry tomatoes, iceberg lettuce, sweetcorn, mushrooms, onions and cucumber.  Tesco light caesar dressing is fab as soo low in calories to sprinkle over it all with some  chicken.   Add that to the tubs of Alpro Plain Soy Yogurt that I am now addicted to, and my life is changing.

My energy is huge in comparison to before.  I am managing to keep up with the kids out on their bikes.  I have NEVER been able to keep up with the kids before.   Ok, my fibromyalgia is still there, my feet still hurt daily, but I am managing to feel better about it, and without the daily carb coma effect, I feel lots better than I did.

I have bad days – I am no saint.  I don’t worry about them.  If I have overeaten, then I go to town on the day that I do it.  I am coping better that way.  I throw away my wishlist, and I just have what I crave.  I am not beating myself with the never ending stick that I used to carry on my back, weighing me down with every calorie that I put into my mouth.  I get up the next morning, and I get on with my day, as if the bad day had never happened.

I have the positive feeling, that this time, I can do it.  This time it is a life choice, rather than a lucky year where I have managed to lose lots of weight by starving myself, only  to put it all back on again a few years later.

How it affects us, I really don’t know.  I do know that the power of relaxation must have something in it.   I am in the van with the kids, and hub and grandma tootle back and fro, so on the nights that it is just the kids and I, I have been putting on the #slimpod aloud instead of through my headphones.   My youngest who struggles to sleep is now asking if I can put on the “old mans” voice (sorry Trevor) to help him sleep.  He prefers it to low music.  He is 9 years old.

I wonder if a similar podcast for children who struggle with their self-esteem would be a sensible way to go and put it on at nights for them.  I wish there was something out there off the shelf for it.  I see huge benefits in the power of safe, sensible suggestion therapy where we feel totally in control.

Thank you Sandra and Trevor.

xx

 

 

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I Have Sent My Child to Stay with Strangers.

For Thursday 7th July 2011, we were offered our first overnight respite from middlers non stop antics.  It was a blessing in disguise, however you describe it. 

  • This post may lose me readers. 
  • This post may also make someone else feel not so alone.

Lets take a day in the life of Scottish Mum and her family.  

It’s fair to say that middler has been struggling with his brothers since the start of the summer holidays (a whole three school days).  Having spent nearly 8 months under mums feet , he considers me as his sole possession.   He cannot read, he cannot write, but he can talk and he is highly mobile.  We are in the caravan, which is always a challenge, but has usually been good for him.

On Wednesday, woken up by a sharp prod in my chest, I jumped up with a start, and banged my head on the cupboard above my head in the caravan.    Racing to get to middler first, I miss, and he takes off out the front door and heads for reception of the campsite to try and jump onboard the little ride on lawnmower.  

Reception staff are starting to get annoyed with any children going around to the reception to play, and I don’t want to be thrown off the site.  I try and catch up with him.  The old wardens used to know him, and kept a watchful eye out for him, but the new ones are more rule orientated –  although still very nice. 

He dances around the lawnmower  and starts to shout and swear at me – telling me I am a “fucking bitch”.   I finally manage to catch him, and on the way back to the van, my shins get a few swift kicks.  My legs start to feel numb and the pain brings tears to my eyes.  

Getting him back to the van, I dodge his head twisting round to try and bite the back of my arms (you know the fleshy bit that hurts like hell if someone nips it – if you don’t know, you’ve had a sheltered life).  He’s nearly 10, and not far off my height, and the struggle to control him gets harder every year.  

He is in angry mode at being stopped from doing what he wants to do, and his voice gets louder and louder.   He slips my grasp and wakes littlest up by kicking him in the stomach.   I quicky give him his tablet and try to get him into a safe hold to stop him from kicking the furniture into bits.  Elder is woken up and comes down to take control of the legs that are swinging up and trying to knock my head off.    He manages to take off the trainers, and any kicks from now on will be much more pleasant. 

I know what kind of day I am in for.  It’s the kind of day we are in for often when his brothers are around, and I am the sole adult to look after them.   Littlest and elder can’t walk past him without a vicious kick numbing their legs, stomach, face, arms – in fact, anywhere he can reach them. 

It ends in Tesco for supper when he doesn’t get his own way, and begins to kick the shelves and products off of them.  I manage to get him on a wrist strap while elder holds his head to keep his mouth away from my face.   Getting embarassed now, littlest and elder decide to slope off to the side of the aisle and leave me to deal with it.  I am struggling to keep the intermittent headbutts away from my face, the alternating teeth off my hands and arms, and control the legs that are back kicking my shins as the hands grab chunks of my flesh and squeeze as tightly as they can.  He is in full meltdown in the middle of a flaming supermarket.

Unlike a toddler, you can’t leave a near 10 year old to rampage in a tantrum through a shop.  He would cause so much damage, that I’d have to work for a year to pay it off, and thats before Mr Plod is called for damage to property.     I decide there is nothing for it and I set myself down on the floor with him in a safe hold where we were.  We are in the main aisle in front of the checkouts.  I can’t move him forward or back, so I sit where we are.  I can’t hold him properly in the one person safe hold anymore as he is too strong, so he managed to get to my hands several times.   He is screaming, swearing,  headbutting and biting.   Staff begin to congregate around us, and elder and littlest get upset at people staring.  

Nobody bothers to ask if I need any help.  Why would they?  They think he’s just a spoiled brat and I’m a bad mother.  Nobody dares to ask me to move out of the front of the checkouts.  Thank goodness for that.  Maybe they think I’ll get up and headbutt them.

Such is my life.  Such is our life, mine, littlest and elder.  Middler keeps it in check for dad and strangers.  Then he waits until we are all alone and begins to pound us into what he thinks is his will.   No amount of bribery, corruption or sweetie offers will change the path of the outcome.  He resents his brothers, and he hates me when I have to split my time between them all.   He wants ALL the attention, ALL the time. 

In front of those who assess him, he cuddles me and tells them he loves me.   He saves his anger up and lets it out  for us when he feels safe.

He has a form of brain damage.  He looks normal, he walks normally, so therefore, to other people, he must be “normal”.  He can’t act like that, can he? 

  • I am exhausted, but its not physical. 
  • It’s mental. 
  • It’s never being able to rest, never being able to go to the toilet without getting someone to sit and hold him to make sure he doesn’t run off. 
  • It’s not being able to get a shower for five days if there is no other adult to keep him while I have the luxury of a spot of water to clean myself.  
  • It’s never being able to relax. 
  • It’s never knowing what he is going to get up to next.  
  • It’s never enjoying being his parent while his brothers are around. 
  • It’s never being good enough for him.
  • It’s knowing that he can keep that anger inside with other people but his anxieties are building up inside, and we get them later.
  • It’s knowing that he is vulnerable as much as he is strong.
  • It’s knowing his obsessions rule his life.
  • It’s knowing one of his obsessions is to always be in charge.
  • It’s knowing a major indicator of his issues is the extreme reaction to the word no.

At the offer of  our first ever respite, I drove home and back on Thursday at short notice.   A 112 mile round trip for a night of respite.    With littlest and elder, we saw him to the respite house.  They played hide and seek, and one of the carers for the night is also a helper at his new school for August.  His wobble on the way there disappeared and he instantly felt at home.  A young girl was on the floor playing.  We sat in the room he was going to sleep in, and after a coffee and a quick chat, I left him with strangers.

I walked to the car, choking back the tears – determined not to upset littlest and elder.   I didn’t want to leave him.  I knew for us, that I must.

  • I begin to feel free. 
  • I feel bad for feeling free.  
  • Littlest and elder feel free. 
  • They feel bad for feeling free. 

Not having him gives me a taste of what life is like with “neuro typical” children.   I mourn the lack of that life.

He will be back with us soon, and my heart fills with equal measures of happiness and dread.  I love him, and I will protect him until my dying breath, but I don’t like our life.  I don’t like how we have to live, I don’t like how littlest and elder have to live, and I don’t know if I can do it forever. 

When he is too big for me to control, he may have to go to residential somewhere.  I don’t want to do that to him as I know he would not cope with that.

Some days I don’t know how I will ever get to the end of it. 

I always do.  

Some days are better than others and for those days I am grateful.

He is not the cause of his anxieties, and he should not be like this.  He should be a happy, carefree “neuro typical” child.   He isn’t.   Every day, I wish that he could have the life that he desires.  It makes me so angry to see his struggles to live each day.

He wants to be “normal”.  

Having brothers only a year older, and a year younger than he is himself, means that he can never forget what he is, and what he cannot do.

So now you know. 

  • As a rule, we special needs mums with behaviourally challenged children don’t tell you exactly how it can be.
  • As a rule, you wouldn’t believe us if we did.
  • Our children don’t respond to textbook strategies.
  • We sit alone, thinking how awful we are as parents. 
  • Our confidence disappears as people treat us with condemnation rather than respect and help. 
  • We read, and read, and read, and read.   
  • We try to find a cure. 
  • We lose our old friends, and sometimes we are lucky enough to make new ones.
  • I am lucky.

When my son was 4, I thought I was the only person being beaten up by their child.  We were in the process of adopting him, and I was scared to say how bad it was in case they took him away.  I loved him, and I couldn’t see any harm come to him.  

I thought love was going to be enough.

Love is not enough.

  • Don’t judge a struggling mum.  
  • Give her a smile.  
  • Don’t dismiss every child who swears or kicks as bad.
  • Don’t think a family is coping, just because they seem to be.

I am grateful to the woman on the checkout we chose in Tesco on Wednesday. 

  • She smiled. 
  • She asked how we were.
  • She knew what I was doing as she has a grandchild who is being assesssed at the moment. 
  • She lifted my spirits. 

We came back to the caravan, we went for a walk and I tried to teach him how to skim stones on the lake.   

  • He comes back to see me today.
  • I can’t wait to see him. 
  • I have missed him.  
  • Littlest and elder have missed him.

Respite is good.

 

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The Crunch in Real Life – The Great British Holiday Empties

Sitting in a campsite, that is usually busting at the seams at this time of year – I am forced to reflect on the impact of the huge cuts that all of us below the levels of the wealthy pampered have been steam rollered into.

Around us, where there should be dozens of laughing and happy children, all enjoying the Great British Holiday, there are empty spaces. There are no children playing outside in the pouring rain. We were here the last two years at the same time of year, and the site was full of laughing, happy families and their children, splashing in huge puddles of thundering torrential rain. In a circle of 17 spaces that are usually crammed full, there are only three of us who have braved the economy, and the wet and wild scottish summer.

The site may fill up once the English children are all off school, but what does it say about the Scottish economy that a camping and caravan site that is usually full, is so empty? Yes, it is likely to fill up again for the weekender crowd, but without holidaymakers, there will be fewer sites to use, and the potential for “wild camping” will come back into business.

Camping and caravanning have seen a nice boom in recent years as money has tightened, although its safe to say that it is certainly not one of the cheapest hobbies around. There is something lovely about being able to relax in comfort, and away from your main home, and the absence of fellow holidaymakers this year has totally taken me by surprise.

Are seasoned caravanners and campers really giving up on their holidays and staying at home, or are they “wild camping” and being ostracised as travellers wherever they go.

It’s obvious that the campers and caravanners won’t be staying at home, but where are they? Are they staying closer to home to save petrol / diesel money, or are they taking off as our elder generations did?

My parents and grandparents both set off on adventures across the UK with packs on their backs in the summer time. I never did that. I wouldn’t feel safe doing that, especially now with the children, but I’d love to.

  • Should “wild camping” be allowed?
  • Should we be able to go, as we did as children – off into the wilds, and park where we felt the scenery is beautiful?
  • Are we too focussed on the “scare tactics” that seem to be evident as news in todays media that we are over cautious of where we go and what we do?
  • Is it really more dangerous today than it was in our grandparents younger days?

I don’t know. I only know that I don’t do some things that I would like to, and I shelve “just in case”. About the extent of my bravery, is my tin tenting with the kids while hub stays at home to work and keep an eye on grandma.

I am sad to see such an empty campsite and I hope the business picks up for them soon. I can’t really believe that people are “wild camping” instead, so it has to be that people have less money to spend using their lovely tents or caravans. Hopefully this isn’t one of the British Traditions that sees the end of many well run and well loved sites.

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Cybermummy and Leap Frog Leapster Explorer 2011

I was taken totally out of my comfort zone when I was in London at the Cybermummy Conference on the 26th June.  Mixing with a HUGE group of women, none of whom I had ever met before had my stomach growling with the nerves that were threatening to overtake my bold statement at booking myself in for the conference in the first place.

I swallowed my nerves, gave myself a stern talking to, and made it to the Brewery in time.  Walking through the door, I was a little taken aback by the number of stalls that were handing away little things, and asking us to enter competitions.   Slightly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of people who seemed to be milling around talking to each other, I actually felt like I was the only person there that didn’t already know somebody else.

I had some cups of coffee, browsed, had some more coffee, and sat and listened to Sarah Brown at her keynote speech.   Behind the computer screen, I am a confident, assertive woman, who very much resembles the woman that used to have a career path – but that was pre-kids.  Eight years of caring for a child with learning difficulties, including behavioural and emotional problems, and the other stresses it can add, and my confidence had dropped to ridiculous levels.

I came across the lovely PR’s on the Leap Frog stand, and for some reason, I began chatting and found I qualified for a brand new and shiny Leapster Explorer and Camera.   The chat gave me a bit of a confidence boost, and for that I have to say thank you to Claire.

I have a special needs youngster who needs strong toys that are also “cool”. The Leapster Explorer and the Camera, certainly fitted into that category for him.   He squealed when I took it out of my bag, and it has remained his favourite toy so far.  The buttons are easy, and large enough for him to understand, and the case seems to be tough and practical.   The screen quality is also very good which is often unusual in childrens toys and is bright enough for him to play with during the day without drawing the curtains.

The back of the leapster holds the 4 AA batteries, and the screw is so large that a regular sized knife will open it easily.  I suspect a 5p coin would also do the trick, so no need to carry around a screwdriver just in case of that all important battery run out, just when you need it to keep a youngster occupied.

To get the best use out of it, the Leapster Explorer needs to be connected to the LeapFrog Connect application which you get on disk, or can download it for the leaplets (little apps and games ) directly from their website (here).

To download a leaplet, there is a starter code with the leapster when you unbox it, and linking up via the computer is actually very simple to do.   To buy more download codes, you have to go to specific outlets and have them sent to you, or buy from some toy shops.

It would be lovely to be able to order and pay for the games online and have them downloaded instantly.   Maybe that is something they are looking at in the future.  it’s not a deal breaker and we have another code on the way, along with a game on the way from Amazon, and I do love Amazon.   I looked this morning, and they have the Leapster Explorer which should be £59.99 reduced to £44.89.  I didn’t find the camera, but it seems to be coming in around the £14.99 mark.

One of the things that he is usually very jealous of is that his older brother can take photographs on his phone.   He is never trusted with a camera alone, as sadly things just seem to fall apart in his hands, and we all end up devastated.

The camera fits into the bottom slot of the leapster.  It was surprisingly easy to sort out.   It just takes a second to click it into place, then connect to the store through LeapFrog Connect, and download the software for it to work.

My boy has taken hundreds of photographs with his, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the pictures were coming out with reasonable quality, and that the memory in the leapster must be quite good for what you can pack onto it.   He can add effects and use distortion effects to huge amusement and much giggling.  The camera even lets him take videos, which is an added boost, although I don’t think my son has fully understood everything that it can do.  When you set up your parent account, you can also see how your children are progressing through the learning games.  All in all, it’s a pretty impressive little gadget for youngsters, and for older special needs children.

We are waiting for a game to arrive so I can’t yet comment on those too much yet, but the built in software is keeping him happy so far.  The software is all around learning and there are several demos on the leapster that show you what it can do.  The demos are very popular and he seems to watch them a lot.  I can see there will be many requests for the games on the website for his birthday and christmas list.

All in all, it is a huge success in our house for my 9 year old with special needs, and I have seen his brothers sneaking onto it on the rare occasions that it has been laid down.  It seems attached to his hip at the moment, and I haven’t had much time to have a good look at everything on it.   Sneaking into his bedroom when he is sleeping, I have several times tried to quietly slip my hand under the pillow it is hidden under, only to be met by a sleeping hand shooting out to protect his pride and joy by grabbing it firmly.

It’s fantastic.   Thank you Leap Frog.  We love it.

Scottish Mum
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