Category: Lifestyle

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“A Braw New Year” Doric Hogmanay Poem

Wir waitin fir the end o the month
Fir oan the thirtae first its a oer
An a new year wi us a cheerin n kissin
As we a ring em bells, an kiss baith loons an quines rosy chiks
Haudin up twa strings ae misseltow, ower fa ye like
Ye a ken fit a mean, wi a did it fan we wir young

An we smile fan we see, a first fit wi his coal
He his tae be dark o hair, an tall as kin be
Coal fir oor fire, a symbol fae the past
Heat tae survive, a braw gift
Noo will be biscuits, or mebbee a dram
A wishin us weel, fir a new year on its wye
Tae the lute o the piper, or the drum

The bells ding, oor clock strikes the midnight oor
Some ring em in, wi a song fae oor past
Maist linkin airms, an singing oot loud
Fir thae auld pals, they’ll nivver forget
Sung the world oer, a hoosehold chant
An a toast o the year tae come, we a hud oot hope
Fir a Happy New Year, tae ane an a

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Spam Comments – Spammers Go Away

Spam Comments HereImage: healingdream / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This is just a general post, and I am writing it more to ease my irritation at having to daily delete more and more comments that are not really comments.   All of you who have blogs will know what I mean.  I signed into admin today with lots of comments to trawl though, and it seems the spammers have found me in force. 

There are a few different kinds that seem to find their way into my comments approval box.  They usually fall under the following headings, and these are all things I do NOT want to see in my approval box.

  1. Weight Loss websites.
  2. Foreign Shopping Sites.
  3. Websites for over 18’s.
  4. Pharmaceutical / Drugs websites.
  5. Online Dating websites.
  6. Online Gambling websites.

Would all of the above please just go away, because I am NOT going to approve your comment

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“Shhhhh fir Santa” Christmas Doric Poem

It’ll seen be time fir christmas
Time fir abody tae say
Hud yer weesht, it’s gettin late
Shut them peepers at end o the day

But, seen as yer ma’s heids hits e hay
Ye teeter oot o yer covers an mair
Yer lugs wirk sae hard, they shiver
An hush as ye go, near tae at door

Creepin doon yon steps fair sleekit
Teetin roun an roun, yer een openin wi frite
Shhhhhh em bells tinkle an jinngle
Ye look thru windae panes, an clap yer haun tae yer muth

A sleigh skiffs by, unner yer nose
Wi a flash fae rudolph, winkin is een
Shh lik a moose, scurry an shimmer
Up tae yer bed, afore santa slips doon yer lum

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“Snow” Christmas Doric Poem

Wi thon muckle flurries, ah watch oot ma windae
Yon white draps, wi wee crystals aboot em
An ah dream o yon year, fan ah wis a quine
A lass wi a bin liner, slidin doon nigg bay slopes

We’d nowt on oor hauns, and sookit feet
The caul nivver entered intae oor heids
Thinkin back now, ah canna believe it
Ah feel the caul, jist thinkin aboot it

Ah’m stannin back, an love far ah am
Ahin me, is a fire, glowin n burnin
An the morra winna stap me, ah’m gaun oot wi the bairns
Fir an efterneen o sledgin, trussed up lik a chook

Ah’ll hae ma gloves, an ma hat oan ma heid
An them leggins wi paddin, thit keep oot the weet
Dinna forget thon bitts, wi paddin an fleecin
As ah’ll skite doon at mound, laffin and jokin

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Finding New Blogs

I am looking for some great new blogs to read. I love reading, and blogs always give me a reason to connect to other people and escape in the same way that a good novel takes me out of my life and into pleasant escapism.

I’m not an avid, daily blogger, but at times I may actually blog more than others. I don’t covet huge statistics from readers either, but it would be nice to have some readers for my rantings. Strangely enough, some people seem to find my blog on google using words that I would never connect to anything I have written.

I sometimes find it difficult to find blogs that I might be interested in. It is easy if someone has already visited my blog for me to return the favour.

Let me know on scottishmum@gmail.com if you would like me to read your blog, or leave a comment for me so that I know where to find you.

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Nothing Happens at School

The events of the school day always amuse me.  In an average school day, nothing much seems to happen.  I know this for certain, because my children tell me so, each and every day that they come home from school.   You know how it goes.

Mum “Did anything nice happen at school today.”
Child “Nothing much.”

Mum ” Did you have gym, or language.
Child “I told you mum, nothing happened.”

Mum “So you went to school, you didn’t do any work, you didn’t see any friends, you didn’t eat any lunch, and you haven’t got any homework.”
Child “Haven’t I just told you that.”

This is one of the universal truths that I seem to come across with boys, and not just my boys.  I have heard of a few boys who do actually go home and tell their parents how the day goes, but in general, most of us parents of boys seem to get the same answer.  Girls on the other hand, seem to me, to tell their mothers what happens day to day and piece by piece. 

That got me to thinking back to whether I was like that as a child.   I made myself a coffee and sat down to relax.

“Did I always tell my mother nothing happened at school.” I asked myself.  “No” I convince myself, as my mother and I were ‘friends’.   And there we are.  I am as smug as a bug in a rug that I was right about the boy/girl divide in school nothingness.

Grandma was here at the end of the school day today, and as I brought the boys through the door, she puts on a great big smile.

“What happened at school today boys, come and tell me all about it.”  I hear this and think that there will be no reply to it.   I wait for a few seconds and I am not disappointed. 

“Nothing, nothing much, that’s boring,”  come the replies.

 This is repeated a few times and grandma throws her hands up in the air and exclaims.  ” They’re just like you were at that age, they never tell anyone anything.”  And with that, off she flounces to the kitchen to put the kettle on in exasperation.

My first thought was “wow, no wonder no-one tells her anything,” then I remember how I act when my boys walk in the door, and I realise that I do exactly the same when I get exactly the same answer. 

Like mother like daughter.  Who?  Me?  No.

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Saving Education Services in Aberdeen – Cuts for ASN affect ALL Children

I’ve become aware of a campaign running to save services for ASN in Aberdeen.  What I have read so far is almost unbelievable.    Being a parent of ASN, this is something that affects me daily, and is an issue that affects all children in every class when PSA’s are taken away.

I am not yet sure of the full extent of the cuts, but I will be planning to find out by tomorrow.  In the meantime, I am aware that even such a small thing as putting a link up to the petition being run, might in some small way, help with this campaign.

Here it is:

Save ASN Services Petition

http://www.gopetition.com/petition/41203.html

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Snow – Sensible or Over-Protective Parent?

It’s only November, but this is the worst snow that I can remember as an adult.  I remember snow like this when I was a child, and that was pretty special for me.  All this snow is pretty special for my children as well, because they have never seen snow like this before. 

I am not talking a few inches on the ground.  I am talking the lab up to her neck in it and the cat refusing to go out because he disappears in it.   I have had to dig out two trenches, one for the cat and one for the dog to get out to the toilet.  The photos were from yesterday when the snow was about 7 inches less than it is today.   My camera is away with youngest son for the day, and hopefully he takes some pictures with it, but I won’t hold my breath.

I have fantastic memories of out sledging as a child, wearing only jeans and trainers, and being frozen to the bone, but refusing to give up.  How on earth we didn’t end up with frostbite I have no idea.

Togging up my own children, I have them wearing three layers under a huge jacket.  On top of that, I plant them with hats, gloves, waterproof and padded trousers, and furry lined boots to keep out the chill. 

And I am STILL worrying about whether they are warm enough outside in the snow.  

Eldest yesterday brought home a friend in the afternoon who was wearing only trainers and a pair of joggers and had been out for most of the day.  This is a child who seems to be fur coat and no knickers.  He has all the latest electronic gadgets and fashion junk, but school clothes that fit, and sensible footwear don’t seem to exist.

This child ends up in our TV room, and really cold, he phones his mum for a lift.  She says she will try and get out for him.  He tells her that his feet are freezing and that they are sore.  She still only says that she will try and come for him.  He then gets worried and asks, well, what will I do?  Obviously he was stressed out about the thought of putting back on his wet things and having to walk a mile in them. 

I would have dug out and defrosted my car and taken him home if push come to shove, and she did eventually appear in her car for him.  It does make me wonder if I am too over protective of my children though.  I remember having to cope with similar situations as a teen, but my mother did not have a car, and I wouldn’t have been expected to walk home alone in the dark, at night, in the snow.

It doesn’t change my mind though about making sure my children are warm, dry, comfortable and safe, and yes, it might toughen up kids to make them fend for themselves, but I can’t help wondering at what cost.

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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.