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Teethscapades

The one thing that hasn’t been boring this last month in our house has to be the Dentist.

Dentists are usually one of those things that rarely make a dent in my life.   As a young thing, I chose veneers and a crown in place of expensive jewellery for milestone birthdays as my own chompers were damaged as just a wee thing.

I spent every year of my life from age 8 to about 20 ish with my hand covering my mouth when I smiled.  I used to sort of grimace with my mouth closed when I could, or limit the amount that I laughed.

Granted, it means I don’t have as many smile lines as most people my age (huge benefit to not smiling for over 12 years) and I had no jewellery to show off as I grew up, but I could finally smile without worrying how people would look at my damaged teeth.

Fast forward xx years and I decide that the last Dentist I took my children to was a snotty, freshly out of Aussie Dentistry novice.  He gaily lambasted me in front of my kids for the fact that their teeth had signs of damage.  I guess he never bothered to read the fact that they are adopted, that baby teeth were rotten before they got to me, and adult teeth have come in pretty weak for some reason.  Naa, just complain, complain, complain.

So, off goes I, when a new Dentist opens up and I think I can actually get a NHS Dentist to cut the potential costs for my ageing mouth of chompers.  I happily sign up myself, my husband, mother and three children.

We all have check-ups and they give me an x-ray to see if there is any decay behind my many veneers.  To my dismay, a semi-front tooth needs a filling.

The man of the house goes first and while a wisdom tooth is being extracted, the Dentist slips and spears her finger while her hand is in his mouth.  Cue tests for HIV, hepatitis and other things I can’t even begin to imagine for both of them.  Oh the joys.

I have hidden decay tooth filled, and happily, old veneer doesn’t pop off during the process.   I skip home with glee before coming back the next week with eldest for a filling.

He makes Dentist next customer more than an hour late as he starts to scream the place down every time she came near him with needle to freeze his mouth.  Major sweating from Dentist and I, bribery and corruption – and much holding of head and hands to help get it done.  Afterwards he says “that wasn’t so bad”.

Filled tooth with veneer starts to ache, badly.   I return for a new appointment for the Dentist to tell me that the last filling was close to the nerve and she tried to take out the filling to put a bandage on the nerve.   She froze my mouth, nothing, still felt it.  She added more freeze, and yup, still didn’t work.  After that I was sent packing with antibiotics and a wish and a hope that it starts to calm down over the weekend.  So far, it’s still a wish and a hope, but it’s only coming in excruciating waves every 30- 60 minutes instead of every 20 – 30 minutes.

Yesterday, the man of the house bit on a sweetie from the kids, and his filling from three weeks ago fell out….

Surely our trips to the Dentist will subside soon………… I am hoping they are all sorted out BEFORE Xmas and New Year hit us.    The way things are going, I am not entirely hopeful of a happy ending.

Toothache hurts – end of story.

🙁

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Sleep is for the Weak

Image: m_bartosch / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

After reading  Jane’s blog yesterday at Northern Mummy with Southern Children about the 7pm bedtime routing beginning to change, I had to laugh as I saw it at about 10pm, while I was trying very hard to ignore the 2 reprobate children who were still wandering the house looking for snacks and drinks.

I can’t remember how or where it started to deteriorate.  The boys have never been good sleepers and one is up with the sun and goes to bed with the sun.  In summer, he sleeps for about 4 hours a night.

It was a very fast progression, this bedtime lark.

Within a few short months, peace and tranquility at night-time  had gone.  To clarify, in my humble estimation, peace and tranquility is only broken if more than one child spends upwards of an hour or more screaming their heads off at bed time.

The deterioration of the bedtime routine clashed with the onset of cot side climbing and big boy beds.  Overnight, the children constrained by cot sides found the freedom that they had longed for.  No longer were we able to keep them from moving.

In middlers case, the next step was to move a child gate to the door of his bedroom to give him that little extra room to manoeuvre, without being let loose on the world at a moments notice and without anyone watching his back.   I thought I was so clever with that little trick  and congratulated myself on my cleverness with smug smiles to all.

Smugness laughed in my face as within a week or two, middler had managed to learn to climb over the gate.   Red raw eyes over the next few weeks of staying awake and outside his door to stop him heading off in the middle of the night made me look as if I had a huge vino habit.

Smugness reappeared when I found a dog gate in Argos that looked the same as the child gate, only much taller, and the red-eyed eyed witch disappeared as sleep came back to the mum of the house.

All too soon, the returned smugness evaporated when he realised he could throw a wobbly, lob a huge kick in the direction of the gate and it would fly off the door in a testament to his strength and ability to grab the fleeting tastes of freedom that he had managed to acquire before.

Elder and littlest get tablets to help them sleep.  It must be something that runs in their birth family.  This permanently awake condition is totally alien to me.    I was the poster child for the long lie campaign as I only ever wanted to get up out of my cosy little pit when I had to.

To this day, I still need three alarm clocks set to get me up, yet the slightest whimper from a child usually wakes me (oxymoron I know).  I do say usually as I sometimes sleep through all madness with oblivion.   There are only so many waking hours that a sane person can survive on (who said I was sane).

My boys are fast approaching the teenage years, and with so little sleep in their lives so far, I can’t help but think that they are going to grow up into insomniac nightwalkers, destined to walk the streets at night.  My paranoia knows no bounds !!

I have long given up the fight for bedtime as it is impossible to make someone sleep if they don’t ever feel tired.    The tablets are wonderful when they work and if I catch the odd glimpse of a yawn, I take that as my excuse to race to kitchen, fill up a pint glass full of milk to help tip the almost sleeper over the edge with a full belly.

They say Margaret Thatcher only ever got 5 – 6 hours sleep a night and since she was dubbed the “iron lady,”  I guess that really means that sleep is for the weak, and the rest of us are chicken lily livered sleep loving bedaholics.

 

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What is wrong with a label?

What is in  a label?

If I had a £ for everyone who said that they didn’t want their child labelled, I’d be doing quite nicely by now thank you.   I have to wonder why we have such an aversion to labels, or names, or public affirmation of issues.   Many do accept the labels their children are tagged under, but for every one who does, there are many who don’t.

– Is it a Scottish thing?

– Is it a larger than life British thing?

– Is it one of those stiff upper lip Britishisms that has us refusing to admit that our children may “have” something.

– Might it be that we might be blamed for it if they do?

– Could it be that we are in denial and don’t want to admit there is something wrong with our children?

– Should it be that we ignore what is right in front of our eyes?

Isn’t a label a reason for people to call our children stupid, or thick, or spazzer, or idiot, or dumbo, or something else as equally offensive?

Perhaps denying that there is anything specifically wrong means that we don’t have to face the problems that are staring us straight in the face.  Keeping the denial going means that we can pretend we have the illusion of a perfect family can’t we?

– What if we use the label?

– What if other people learn about the condition that a child has been labelled with?

– What if the label teaches others patience.

– What if the label means that academics and medial staff have to take notice and provide some help.

What is so wrong with having a label?  I have endometriosis, I was infertile and I am a food addict.   I am not ashamed of any of those so why do I hide them in real life?

My children now have labels.  In my stupidity when they were younger, I remember hearing the most ridiculous words coming out of my mouth.   I would start by saying ” I know he has issues, but I don’t want him to go through life with a label.”

Nobody will fight our choices if we choose not to have, or to use the labels, but at what cost to our children?   Are the labels beneficial to them and are we really just digging our heads in the sand and hoping it will all work out alright in the end?

Why is it so wrong for so many to have their child come under a  label?

 

 

 

 

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Special Birthday Film Night

Last week there was a little boys birthday in our house.  Thanks to the lovely Claire from Cheshire Claire, and talking to her about the successful film night that she had for her son’s birthday a few weeks ago, I decided to copy her and have a few friends over to play for littlest (ahem, sit and quietly watch a film was the plan).

There was much excitement for the planning of the party to come and littlest spoke of nothing else for about a week before the actual day.

The invitations went badly when a few of the children he asked turned him down flat.  School has been difficult for him recently and living with his brother is not easy, so I was sad to see him being distressed about it all and I decided to make it extra special for the boys who did manage to come.  I asked a few boys whose mothers I know and who do actually like my boy, rather than the popular crowd he would like to be in with.  With a few confirmed film nighters, it was down to me to arrange the quiet peaceful night to come.

I had strict orders of what had to be done for the party.   There were to be no brothers in attendance which I thought was fair for him, since he carries a heavy burden day-to-day with his older brother – and at times he is expected to act older than his years.

We started off with some fireworks.  Apologies for the poor quality photos for this post, but we were all so busy having fun that photos took second place to being mum for the night and I think that just set the boys off into mischievous mode.

I ordered a huge “beast” pizza from our local Snappy Pizza place and I wish I had managed to get a picture of the HUGE box, but alas, the kids dived in far too quickly for me to be able to get any worthwhile photos as I dished out and served up slice after slice of monster pizza, but I did manage to snaffle elders plate as he sneaked upstairs with his pal and their plates of swag from the party food.

This plate is for an 11 year old, and he came back for a double helping.

Now, onto the quiet part of the night.  Was film night as nice and quiet as I had imagined it?

I’ll let you decide that for yourself while you listen to the shy and retiring children play with the fabulous Hexbug Nanos that  we were provided to brighten up littlests night.  You will need your sound on to appreciate the peaceful and calming environment of the evening.

Did they watch a film – not on your Nellie.

The boys were here from 4pm and all picked up at 8.30 so it was a looooong party.  After they all left, I scooped out a lovely tub of ice cream and whipped up a sauce of condensed milk, the Nutella spread that was so thoughtfully gifted to us, and added  Smarties and Fudge.

Wickedly sinful, but perfect end to the day.  Yum.

And to the wonderful PR that provided us with the Nutella and the Hexbugs to make his party go with a bang, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The Hexbug Nanos made the night extra special.

Scottish Mum
x

 

 

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Sweet Temptation – Who’s Right – Teacher or Me? Help…..

We had a situation last week.   I may be reading too much into it, but it really irritated me to the bone.

On the way home from school, elder was very quiet and piped up that he had a letter than I had to sign for him to take back into school.  I didn’t think that much about it at the time and just thought it would be for “yet” another trip for P7’s.

At home, he sheepishly slipped the letter under my nose and I read it with total disgust.  Not in disgust at him I have to say (although I had to show him some displeasure) but in disgust at the contents.

It begins by saying this type of thing:

Dear Mss xxxxx
I am really sorry for stealing sweeties from your desk, and I know it was just too tempting, so please please forgive me and I know you can never ever trust me ever again for lying and nobody likes a thief.   I have to say sorry to the whole class and I hope you can forgive me.
Yada Yada Yada you get the idea.

 Some of you may be shocked that on this occasion, I didn’t give my boy the third degree, or make him bow and scrape to a pretence of guilt in front of me.  Some of you may stop reading right now, make your mind up what kind of person I am, and then you don’t find out my side of the story.

Wind my neck back in for a month and we find a group of “professionals” and I talking about my boy, his future, and his transition to the big school next year.  As part of that discussion, I tell them about my sons sugar addiction and cravings.  Bear in mind that I am not talking about your average pouty child who just likes a sweetie or two.

I have only recently come to terms with the fact that my son is a sugar addict and that it is part of his condition.  I specifically mentioned it at the meeting where his teacher was present as I had only just found out for myself that he was not just an out and out thief from the treat cupboard, but actually has an illness that is a side effect of his condition and compels him to ingest sweet stuff.  He is just lucky as can be that his genes keep him as slender as he is with all the stuff he packs away.

It helps me to understand why we cannot have lots of bags of sweets in the house, or lots of packets of biscuits as if he knows they are there, he will get up during the night and clear the cupboards.  This behaviour has caused many arguments in the family with extended groundings, removal of privileges, promises of treats to leave them alone etc etc etc and NOTHING worked.  I was so in the dark that I thought my boy was just pushing the limits further than is acceptable.

Back to the story.   We have the teacher INFORMED that he is a sugar addict and that it is part of his condition.  Then the teacher leaves a bowl of sweeties on her desk to give to the children.  I can only guess at the reason for the sweeties, but I suspect they are an incentive for good behaviour.

Picture this.  An empty room with no adults around, and a group of boys who probably have little opportunity to make the grade for one of these revered sweeties help themselves to one and congratulate themselves on their cleverness at outwitting the adults.  One of the boys feels guilty, so dobs the rest of them in and says he didn’t pinch any “so I am told by my boy” .  He also tells me that the dobber in got off with it.

At this point, I am fighting the urge not to laugh as in the same situation, if I were a child in their shoes, I suspect that I would have helped myself to one of those sweeties too.  I am also irritated with the teacher for putting such temptation in the way of someone who has a sugar addiction and expecting them not to take one.   I am even more irritated with myself for expecting the teacher to even to remember that he has a sugar addiction.

I will not be carrying on this issue at home though I cannot tell my boy exactly what I think of it all.

They were warned – and my boy had to take the same punishment as the other boys who took a sweetie, but heaven above – why, why, why would you leave a bowl of sweeties on a desk in front of a class of kids.   It is utter madness.

What do you all think?

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Leapfrog LeapPad Explorer – How does it shape up?

We were sent the LeapPad Explorer to review a couple of weeks ago, and because it was so close to middlers birthday, I held off giving it to him until the big day as I didn’t want him to have something so major so close to his birthday.

What is the LeapPad Explorer

It is a tablet device for kids.  That’s it in simple terms.   The age ranges goes from 4 – 9, but I suspect there are many children in the 2 – 3 age group who would get more benefit from one of these than using mum or dads Ipad or Iphone.  They have more information and there is a video you can watch of it here.

It uses apps based around learning, reading and creativity.   A built-in camera which takes photos and videos is included and gives it an authentic tablet experience for children with an attached stylus to help little fingers.   It even has a shake to move ability in some of the games for motion.

Out of the box.

The tablet has 4 apps and the LeapPad really needs to be connected to the Internet to get it to work completely.  It took us about 15 minutes to update the tablet and another 10 minutes to download the apps.  I have to say that we did have some leaplet cards we had bought for our Leapster Explorer and they work in the app store for the LeapPad which was a nice bonus.

We downloaded a full game that took £20 of money worth in cards, but it is the same price in Amazon so that was ok.   There are some E-Books for £5 and some smaller game apps for £5 or less.  The nice touch that I felt was missing when I reviewed the Leapster Explorer earlier in the year, is that you can now buy the apps online, just like in Itunes and they download onto your LeapPad automatically when you log into the account.

Another aspect that I found appealing was how all the apps and games from the Leapster Explorer are transferrable to the LeapPad Explorer so that if you bought a game for one device, it downloads onto the other as well.  For me this is a MAJOR bonus and VERY like how Itunes works with their Ipods, Ipads and Iphones – it’s a nice touch from a games manufacturer.

Testing

Well, I haven’t had much in the way of testing for this lovely little gadget.  Middler has rarely put it down.  At 10, he has special needs and has yet to learn to read and write his name properly, but he is drawing, playing and taking pictures constantly and he loves that it looks like a Tablet computer.  We have the Leapster Explorer with all the same games now and littlest has even been known to sneak one of them away to potter about on, even though he pretends that he is too old for it.

Owning the LeapPad

For me, it is preferrable that my son uses the LeapPad and leaves my phone alone.   On my phone, he tends to delete things I’d like to keep and with the LeapPad he is learning new things each time he uses it.

It’s a thumbs up from us.

Disclosure – We were given the LeapPad Explorer for this review.

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Adoption Week Part 1. Not the Step Forward I’d Imagined

It has been adoption week this week, and as someone with three adopted children, I thought I should add my tuppenyworth to the discussion and share some of my “ranty wisdom”.  I will also do a jollier post later this week about more of the positives.

I felt like taking my remote control and throwing it at the TV when I began to see some of the coverage that adoption was getting this week.  The Cameron man on the telly moaning on about the process just got my back up, but that’s not unusual for me.

And to top it off, my hackles rose when I watched the segment about the woman complaining about the process and how long it takes to be assessed here, but who had plenty of dosh and managed to find the readies to go abroad and adopt the youngster she wanted.

Now don’t get me wrong, I would have gone abroad if I hadn’t managed to find my forever children in the UK, but come on, complaining about the system you have to follow to get those children is just plain wrong if you don’t even adopt from here.

Let me tell you about how the adoption process was before they made it that little bit tougher.  We went overnight from no children to 3 children who were not fully socialised.  Foetal alcohol babies are hard work, I can tell ya.  Imagine your trouble with a crying baby with colic who doesn’t sleep, and multiply that by a factor of 1000 x 1000 with knobs on and that could be the potential.

All those wannabe mums out there think that a little bit of love is going to make it all right – well it doesn’t.  Those cute little bundles may very well end up as aggressive, troubled tots who don’t get the help they need to survive.  Lots of families disrupt, even now when they can’t cope with the changes that children with high needs means.

Make no mistake, if you have a diagnosis of Autism, or an “acceptable” condition, the world will sympathise and help you with your children.  If your children have a diagnosis of Foetal Alcohol Syndrome or your child is Drug affected, you are going to hit your head up against a brick wall to get help.  And if you do say what the diagnosis is, people will think you are a raving alcoholic and start crossing the street and avoiding your kids party invites.

The bottom line is that most of the young children in care nowadays are disabled, alcohol or drug related births.  There are some who are orphans or young mums not wanting the responsibility, but they are certainly not the norm, and potential parents HAVE to get it through their heads that love is NOT enough to bring up drug and alcohol affected children.

I HATED the adoption process.  With an enormous passion.  I thought it was too long and I thought it was ridiculously monotonous and repetitive, but the authorities HAVE to try to suss out as many of the nutters who try to adopt for other reasons as they can.  If they handed over kids to a ring of child abusers, we would all be up in arms that the process wasn’t comprehensive enough.

Lets get down to the nitty gritty.  Adoptions take so long because there is NOT ENOUGH MONEY in the pot to get the work done that needs to be done to keep everyone safe.   Social workers have too many groups to assess, and to be frank, lots of approved adoptive parents sit waiting for the phone to ring rather than being pro-active and finding their future kids across the country.  There are also some fabulous homes not being used because there are not enough staff to get the meetings set up, organised, pulled together and finalised.

I do think the inflated considerations about race and ethnic backgrounds are pretty crap to be honest.  Lets just chuck kids into uncontrolled and often violent childrens homes eg just because they might be black and christian and a council only has white protestant adoptive parents on their books.

If I get the religions wrong, I apologise – as being a non-believer I just don’t care what religion anyone else is as long as they don’t try to sell me their faith.  That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t happily support a child who needed to learn more about their own faith and culture.

I’d like to see the kids put into homes that will stick with them through thick and thin, support their race and ethnic backgrounds, and to hell with the rules of what colour skin, race or nationality we should be before we can help a child escape from institutionalisation, temporary parents and abusive homes.

After care is rubbish.  Yes, there are “supposed rights” but considering post adoptive care says there is no money in the pot to provide anything, then it really is an empty promise unless it is desperate in my experience.

I am afraid that the negativity far outweighed the positivity that it should have showed, and would put people off finding out more, or moving forward with a process that needs to be shored up.

Right down to basics, adoption is about being parents.   In the same way that parents take on responsibility for children and have to fight for their needs, there is nothing different.    There is no special treatment in being an adopter once you are there so think about it long and hard, and treasure the preparation process because it is there for a reason.

If Mr Cameron wants to make the system work, stop complaining and support the Councils who are mostly doing their best with the means they have at their disposal (money, people and imposed rules) and ringfence pots of money for adoption and disability.

Yes, there are problems and yes, there are always nasty people who don’t do their jobs right, or get in the way of things happening, but they are in the minority.

I saw those segments, and rather than feel good about what was being said, I was conscious that if I were a new potential adopter, that it would massively put me off if I thought that the system was as difficult to breach as it sounded.

Mr Cameron needs to put his money where his mouth is to find alternative methods of moving adopters through the system and helping approve positive matches for families with support to help families cope with the potential problems they will face.

I’ve said my piece and now I will settle back and sort out my three adopted boys photos for christmas cards.   The whole process was worth every rotten moment it took to get through.

 

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Thank you to the lovely @amelielovesthis on Twitter for the Lovely L’Occitane Basket

Winning Basket from L'Occitane

Winning Basket from L'Occitane

I have to show you all this lovely basket I won from L’Occitane En Provence

It is a fabulous prize with lovely shampoo, conditioner, eau de cologne, soaps, face, body and foot creams, and more.   It is an absolutely fabulous gift.  I don’t win things very often, so this is a very welcome prize.

Thank you very much.

xx

 

 

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The A-Z of Me

Thank you to the lovely Mummy Musings for tagging me in this meme.

This meme originated from Lauren of The Real Housewife of Suffolk County.

So here is the A-Z of me!

ANORAK…Do you have a sad side?

I remember what people tell me and I seem to be able to tell when they are telling white lies.  It means I get a red face when I know that someone is standing in front of me telling me a lie about why they have changed their mind about something or are making excuses and then they think I have something to hide.

BODY…What physical attribute would you most like to change? 

My size and weight battle.  It’s been a life long issue for me.  I am a sugar and carb addict.

CELEBRITY…Which one would you most like to date and why? 

I agree with Mummy Musings – Robbie Williams.   What’s not to like there.

DEBUT …Tell us about your first ever blog post. What made you start blogging?

I can’t remember my first blog post, as I lost my first blog, but I remember I began blogging as a way of venting, and then found the fantastic community out there who blog and talk to each other.

ERROR …What’s been your biggest regret? 

I have a few.  I think most of us have them by the time they get to 40 +.   One of them would be the fact that I didn’t stand up to a bully when I was 25.   Every so often, I think about what I could have done or said, but hey ho, that’s life.

FUNNY – who’s making you laugh?

My lovely blind dog makes me laugh a lot.  She still does silly things to get attention.   I don’t know how the boys are going to cope when she goes.

GRAND…If we gave you one right now what would you spend it on? 

Easy – I’d get my eldest son some help at school.

HOLIDAY… What’s your favourite destination?  

I am going to be a bit boring here.  Anywhere that my family is.

IRRITATE… What’s your most annoying habit? 

My bad habit of repeating what I say.  It drives me nuts, so I don’t know what it does to other people who have to listen to it.  I can’t stop.

JOKER…Whats your favourite joke {the one that makes you laugh everytime you hear it}?

I can’t think of anything that isn’t a joke my kids have told and some are not printable, so I’ll keep those to myself.

KENNEL… Do you have any pets? 

1 lovely blind lab, and 1 needy and haughty ex wild cat

LOVE…Are you single, married, engaged, living with a long term partner? 

Married 16 or 17 years.  Can’t remember which year we got married, I never can.

MEAL… Whats your ultimate starter, main and dessert?

Starter – Melon and Grapes or Breaded Garlic Mushrooms with Mayo (depending on the diet), Main – Anything that has no meat or peppers in it.  Dessert – Easy, cheesecake anything.

NOW…If you could be anywhere right now where would you be and who with? 

In a relaxing spa retreat on my own with a kindle full of books……….

OFF DUTY…What do you do in your spare time? 

Blog, tweet, read & the odd day out.  Hmmm, I think that is common among blogger, tweeter, readers.

PROUD MOMENTS …What are you most proud of? 

My Degree.

QUEASY …What turns your stomach?

The smell when people or animals pass wind or vomit.  “you did ask”

 RELAX…How do you relax? 

Tweeting, Reading, Blogging

SONG…Whats your favourite song of all time? 

Robbie Williams – Angels

TIME …If you could go back in time and relive it again, when would you choose? 

From age 24, as long as I know what I know now.

UNKNOWN…Tell us something about yourself that no one else knows? 

My weight.  You didn’t think I was going to tell you, did you.  I don’t even know.

VOCAL…. Who is your favourite artist? 

Robbie Williams tho I think Matt Cardle is coming a close second if he could get some better songs to sing.

WORK….. What is your dream job, and are you doing it now? 

Not doing it just now.  What I do for free would be nice to get paid for though.

XRAY…Any broken bones?

Arm, Leg and Nose.   All as a child and nothing as an adult (yet)  *touch wood*

YIKES…What’s been your most embarrassing moment? 

I can’t tell you that, it’s too embarrassing.

ZOO…. If you were an animal, which one would you be? 

A contented, well loved and well looked after dog.  I treasure loyalty.

And now I have to tag some other victims bloggers to take part in this meme.

@helpfulmum
@glasgow_mummy
@welshmumwales
@cazbattweets
@julesey10
@seasiderclaire
@mi_shmash

A very similar post I did is here.

 

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Guest Post – Adoption & Drug Users

Firstly, thank you very much to Scottish Mum for letting me guest post on her blog.

I wanted to write something relevant to her readers and I wasn’t sure which route to go down. However, I was listening to a debate on a radio show the other day about adoption and the lengthy process it has become and how this in itself is causing more potential trauma to children in care and I thought this seemed a good topic.

According the BAAF statistics, from April 2010 to March 2011, there were 3660 children under the age of 1 in care. Yet, only 60 babies under 1 were adopted in the same period. The average age of a child at adoption is 3 years and 10 months. To me, this seems rather old to have such a massive change of circumstance. They will have started at nursery and be not far off starting school by that age. If children were placed earlier in their lives, surely there would be less risk of them being scarred mentally by the whole process.

 

Whilst the adoption process is long for prospective adoptive parents, it needs to be, to ensure that the right number of checks have been carried out, and steps taken to prepare those wanting to adopt. However, the court process to get a child into an adoptive family is what seems to hold the process up. The reason for this is that the court puts the mothers needs above that of the baby. Whilst this is reasonable (they might be able to look after their children once they have dealt with issues), what kind of impact is it having on the child? What, I thought, about the babies born to drug users who are unable to look after their baby? Well, it appears that the interest of the mother comes first in these cases too. The courts will keep the baby with the mother (or in foster care) whilst the mother sees if she can ‘get clean’.

Now I may be cynical but, having worked with drug users (and previously covered the topic on my blog here), I have never once met someone addicted to drugs who didn’t put the next hit before everything else in their lives (however much they insist otherwise). So should the interests of these babies not be taken into account? They have potentially already had a rough start in life, like many babies born to drug users, they might have already had to withdraw from the drugs passed to them in the womb by their mother. How many times does a baby or toddler need to be taken into care whilst the mother ‘gets clean’ and is then returned to the mother only to be taken back into care when she falls foul to addiction again?

Research by Drugscope back in 2003 suggested that there were between 250,000 and 350,000 children born to drug misusing parents. With the numbers of drug users rising year on year, the number of children affected is increasing. The only way to stop this, is to offer effective, realistic treatment to the parents.

Whilst I appreciate that there are drug users out there who desperately want to stop taking drugs and will do anything in their means to make sure this happens, they really are the minority. Unless the mother moves away from her current situation, contacts and friends, she will find it all too easy to slip back into the old habits. It is possible to beat addiction and fight for your children, as the article here shows. 

I am absolutely not advocating snatching babies from drug users as soon as they are born, but maybe the balance needs to sway towards what is best for the baby. The first three years of their lives are so valuable in how they are shaped as individuals and how they judge the world in the future.

Sources: http://www.baaf.org.uk/

 

Written By
@helpfulmum from You”re Not From Round Here