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Eat too much, or just in the Genes?

I have three children, and  all of them have different metabolisms, strengths and weaknesses.    Watching them grow has given me a different perspective on what is healthy and what is not.  I used to have a preconceived notion that overweight children were all lazy, or their mums fed them too much.  I have no doubt that for some children, that may well be the case, but not for all.

I have started to think back recently to my own weight struggles in life.   Three times in my life I have had to lose 4 stones to be able to feel normal, and enjoy my life.   On the times I have been fat, I have never, ever enjoyed life as an overweight woman.   

When I am fat, I avoid social interaction and refuse all invites.   Being fat does not suit my life.  Yes I will make fun of it, because I have been there three times already and have managed, though excessive diet and exercise to lose it. 

Each time, it slowly creeps back over a few years to the point where I can’t live with it any more and from somewhere, comes the ability to fight my fat.   Before that day comes, I wake up each morning hating myself for not having the willpower to be able to control how I look and feel.  Each day I tell myself that this is the day I can do it, until I eat lunch and devour 800 calories in one sitting. 

At the moment I am in one of the better downward spiral stages of my life.  Everything is easier to do when you are not carrying around so much baggage.  To lose weight I need to reduce to approx 800 calories a day and exercise at least 2 hours a day on top of housework and dog walking chores.  I don’t feel sorry for me, as it is my own fault.    It’s ok for others who are happy with their weigh to stay that way, that is their choice. 

For me, being overweight is not a good choice, but I do wish it was an easier road to take.  I have often had to pace the floor to stop myself eating more than my body can deal with.   I have always had hormone issues, which is the likely explanation for my bodys’ sickening efficiency with little amounts of food.

I have times where I cannot keep to my bodys’ ridiculously low requirements for me to be healthy, and I refuse to be fat for the rest of my life.  Willpower to stick to 800 calories a day and do all that exercise is really difficult for me, and I cannot keep that up all the time.

Getting back to my children, which is the real reason I started thinking about all of this.  I have three boys.   They are the hyperactive boy type that never sit still.  I mostly home cook, I ration sweet stuff still, and my children all have healthy appetites.  They eat plenty fruit and veg, and they all play football, go to multi activity club, swim, and do karate twice a week.  

My youngest is the unfortunate one.  He is going to be like me, and fight his weight all his life.  His two older brothers (who do no more exercise than their little bro), are the long, lean, slender types.  They could eat a horse and you wouldn’t see where it went.   My youngest is the same height as his older brother, but he is over a stone heavier, and yet eats no more food, and does no less exercise.  Youngest has the broadest shoulders, and needs trousers two waist sizes bigger than his biggest brother.

How do we explain that when we are talking about over eating versus unlucky genes?  I simply can’t.

What do you think.

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“Scrievin Maist Weel”

Wir scrievin mad, maist still tae dae
Wi fifti thoosan wirds tae fill
Ah’m a fifth doon sae far tae gang
Wi a heart gaun boom, its rare ye see

Fir efter at, mair wirk wi wirds
Tae move at draft an find a hoose
It’s scrievers month an wir writin in fury
Dinna gibber tae me till its a ower

Fir nanowrimo’s a lot tae say
An ah’m daein ma wirk fae morn till nicht
An ah’ll see ye richt soon, na worries fir me
Fir me tae meet at yon bell, sae muckle tae dae

Ah’m up an doon fir wirds tae mak
Wi’ll a mak fun o ane anither
But fan it maks a diffrince
Is fan wir heids r dirlin

Far else culd ye scrieve sae muckle mush
An mak a tale hough an hale
Fir a o us fa mak it tae at winnin bell
Ah’ll raise me dram tae wish ye weel

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Communications Shutdown – Autism Awareness – Not for me.

Today you might have seen lots of posts, or information about the communication shutdown.
It is an appeal to raise awareness of autism and how it affects those affected.  Unlike those of us who are neuro-typical, many children on the autistic spectrum have difficulty communicating their feelings and thoughts in an appropriate manner, and in an appropriate fashion.

The idea of the communication shutdown is to have people who have no experience of autism feel the frustration that communicating with the world entails, by not logging onto facebook or twitter.  They also support the campaign by using the application which will post their involvement to their accounts, and donating to the campaign.

 The truth is, that simply not being in contact with social media is not even a quarter of the way to feeling the frustration that people on the autistic spectrum feel every second of every day of their lives.  The people who are taking part in the shutdown have the luxury of being able to carry on with daily life and take enjoyment from doing the most basic of tasks, and will more than likely simply replace their online activities with something else productive at home or at work. 

A good idea of how frustrating it can be for some of these children is to try reading a book, and imagine that someone is placing a black sheet of paper over the paragraph every 5 seconds as you try to read it, and then see how frustrated you get with it.  I am all for autism awareness, and the money that is raised by the people who take part in the shutdown will be a welcome addition, although I suspect the ones who take part are those who are already involved with autism on some level.

The National Autistic Society in the UK is not an official partner of the project, but wishes them every success.   http://www.autism.org.uk/get-involved/campaign-for-change/campaign-actions/communication-shutdown.aspx

As a parent with two children on the spectrum, and looking like the third is as well, I rely on the NAS for much information and support.   Locally, a group of parents decided to take action on the fact that there were no clubs to take our children to, and we began a local parent led group which provides a play club for up to 36 special needs children.   

While I wish the campaign all the success in the world, the dangers of  large scale campaigns like these,  is that those of us who struggle to provide suitable playschemes and groups on the ground may find it difficult to source funds to help these children on a practical level.   The flip side of the coin is that every pound raised is another pound spent on helping our children indirectly.  It really is a double edged sword. 

My other reason for not directly supporting the communications shutdown is that the internet is my lifeline.  Living with children on the spectrum (or indeed any child with significant special needs), may be a difficult existence.  Twitter, for me, means the freedom to indulge in general chitter chatter that is not practical in daily life. 

Often parents, guardians and carers have little or no outlet for their own frustrations and difficulties.  Friends often fall by the wayside one at a time as their children get older and become more demanding on time and ability to socialise.  If taking away the communications network for even a day could have a potentially devastating effect for even one family, then the campaign is not for them.

On a day to day basis, life here is not easy.  One of my sons is struggling at his new school and may need moved to a more suitable environment.  Being in crowds causes anxiety which translates to disruptive behaviour.   Meltdowns occur on a regular basis, but we are used to those.

Would I change my children if I could.  Yes and no.  I have been asked in the past, and have sometimes heard parents of special needs children say that they would not change them for the world.  I would not part with my children, no matter how hard work they are, but at the same time, there is always a point in every day where I wish that they could have the type of life that a neuro-typical child has.  

You have to excuse the use of the words neuro-typical as I am not really sure how to refer to the children who do not have special needs.  The use of the word “normal” would seem to imply that special needs children are “not normal”, and this is simply not true as they are indeed “very normal” in their world.

I will leave you with that last thought as this is indeed a very tricky subject and one which has raised much talk and discussion today.

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Umbrella’s at Dawn

I have been moved to blog about the growing band of mummies who stand at the school gates with brollies big enough to lose three people in.  I really, honestly and truly do not like brollies of any shape, size or colour (unless they are attached to a buggy and shading a little one’s eyes).  I really do not like them. 

People barge into you, spokes hit you on different parts of your head and body and you try to squeeze past on paths and pavements, and they rarely lift the spokes up to avoid hitting you.  Then there are the head turners, who suddenly hit you with the lower end of the brolly which is behind their head and leaning on their shoulders.

This morning, set the scene, I am trying to lead a very wet dog and three neighbours children though a rainy public path.    That is on top of the two children who belong to me.  We go single file to walk through the mummy chat zone, but I have a problem.  Mummies are lined up right along the path.  There is nowhere to walk, they are blocking the whole path.   There is a lot of noise on the walkway 6 feet up, and the rain is drowning out a lot of noise.  They are also shouting to each other to be heard.

Neighbours child no 3 asks politely if one “lady” will move, no luck.  She asks if another “lady” will move and gets swatted away as if she were a fly on her coat tails.   We can’t see any faces, as they are brandishing large umbrellas which are spoke to spoke as they chat selfishly.    The hackles are rising on the back of my neck as I call all the children back to behind me. 

Then I spot a car drawing up behind us on the road and move swiftly to the passenger door.  Inside is a well known other brolly hater.  I ask her if she has a lovely big brolly in her car, and to my amazement she has.   I leave her car, also with two of her children in tow.

Armed with the large green umbrella, I make my way back to the mummy brolly tent and shove my green one into the spokes of the other mummies brollies.  The onslaught brings a parting of the path, which allows me to get my forming brood through in one piece, and without this mummy getting someone else’s brolly spokes in her eyes.  I politely mutter sorry, sorry, sorry in passing while trying to keep a straight face.  Strangely none of them seems to mind this at all.  

All of which brings me to the absolute loating I have for umbrellas at school gates, or anywhere near a school, and why, for the safety of my eyes, I am going shopping this afternoon for my very own brolly tent.

if you can’t beat em, join em.

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“Supper Time”

Fars thon kids

Jist fit on earth did yon bairns get up tae the day
Tea’s on the table an nae a soul in sicht

Open at windae an bawl aff me heid
Here’s ane o em, na, mak it twa
And richt ower e hill, number three maks it as weel

It’s caul on e table an ah’ve a richt tae scold
Ah’m e mug thit made it

An jist as a’m done wi my tongue
At middle loon pats is belly
An seys yum yum

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“Muckle Ba”

It’s guid ah am, wi it’s fair fine pitch
Ah’ll mak it yet, so dinna say nay
Kickin n spinnin that great muckly ba
Ma heiders are fair
Tho ah need some mair flair

The oors ah spint, wir braw
Ah forgot me tea
Me maw’s een were red

An the day ah focht
For ma place in the team
Ahh sweet, sweet
Nae mair in a guddle

Ah didnae get in
But ah had me day
Ahh sweet, sweet
Nae fash, mair mair

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“Ma Bonnie Yellow Lab”

Yer bonnie n bricht wi yer licht glossy coat
Ye’ve nowt tae say fan ye’re in yer bed
Yer auld n sad when ye teet oot o yer paws
Them auld grey een, with now tae see nae mair

 The dogs o yer youth, are ower the hill, or gone
All braw pups, eence loupin n floppin
Spinnin in tae mud, an treadin thru water
Free wi the birds an chasin roon hares

Settin doon on the grun, like the twa auld wifies we are
We mind hoo we were, an grin frae afar
Ye’re nae ready tae go, an ah’m nae ready tae lose ye
We’ve mair tae share, an ye’ve still nae had yer fill

Oor dreams come tae mend us, an ye see thru yer heid
Wi shut een, ye see clear, an yer limbs stride the air
As yer een and yer nose twitch, yer ears lift up high
An a whisper o dinner, brings ye richt tae ma heel

Ah’ve loved ye sin the day ah bocht ye
An ah’ll niver forget just a that ye gave me
Withoot a doot, a heart sae grand
My bonnie yellow lab, wi a retrievers nose

Then ye’ll be in ma dreams
Till ma last day o sleep
An we’ll baith race tae that river
Eence mair tae the breen