A strong constitution or no time to be ill?

I know that I may not be the strongest person or have the ability to party until 4am any more, but I like to think that for a woman of a certain age I am doing quite well and pretty healthy.  Generally health is not something that any of us think about unless we have a problem and feel under the weather or unfortunately have something more serious to contend with.

As in most family homes we go through periods of peace and then everyone seems to consecutively come down with one bug or another and our home becomes ‘Animal Hospital’ until the germs disappear.

If the boys are ill and have to stay home then I consider myself quite a good Florence Nightingale, firm but fair and happy to give chicken soup when required.  If my other half is unwell he doesn’t like to give into it unless he is really bad, and although I hate to admit it he does make a good patient.  The problem comes if, for some reason, I am unwell.  The school run still needs to be done, and I can’t expect my other half to take the day off work just because I tell him that I am not exaggerating and the flu I say I have is actually flu and not just the cold he believes it to be.

Things become more complicated if for some reason I have needed to go into hospital.  When my other half had to have his knee sorted out due to thinking he was a Premier League Footballer when he is more Conference League, he saw the doctor, picked a date and went in.  When I needed to sort out a wrist problem I had to make sure hubby was around for a couple of days, ensure the boys were sorted out, stupidly worried that none of the beds would need changing, made sure the shelves were stacked with enough food to last a month, and checked that whenever I had the op it fitted round the family.

Being a wife and mother has, I have decided, made it very difficult to have the luxury of the time to snuggle under the duvet if I am not well.  A cup of tea, a couple of Ibuprofen and just carry on with the occasional moan is usually what happens.  Luckily I know that that it is never serious, but occasionally it would be nice if there could be a male Florence giving me the TLC I am sure I deserve.

Olympic Adventure

Like many others I had applied for a variety of Olympic tickets to a selection of different events, and I was  disappointed not to get anything that I had applied for.  In the second round of the ballot the options were more limited either because of the availability or price of what was left.  I wanted the whole family to see an event and although we could not get tickets for the athletics or cycling, rather than miss out we ended up with quarter finals tickets for the football.

Living in a house of avid Manchester United fans it seemed obvious that we watch the match at Old Trafford and it was going to be special because this was my youngest's first game and it would be at the Theatre of Dreams.  As the first round matches were played out I kept my fingers crossed that we would have a decent game to see that all the boys would look forward to.

With kick off at midday and two hours needed for security it was agreed that we would drive up to Manchester the day before and make it a mini break. I was the most excited about this as we were staying right next to the Trafford Centre where I was hoping to find time for a decent amount of retail therapy.  These dreams were soon quashed when my other half told me he couldn't take the whole day off work, but he would be able to leave the office by midday.  Calculating timings this meant by the time he was home and we left was 2pm, so getting to my shopping started to look unlikely.

When he did arrive back we all piled into the car, making sure there were sufficient changes of clothing for everyone, enough food for the journey to allow us to drive to Europe and back, an Ipod touch, selection of mobile phones (in case anyone should miss a text, BBM or email) and my youngest's teddy bear.  We once forgot his Winnie the Pooh and lets just say that it will never happen again!

The journey up the M1 was as expected on a Friday afternoon but passed off pretty well.  Even when my other half was giving me directions for the Premier Inn that he says were simple and I say were too last minute so I missed the turnings we still managed to arrive relatively unscathed.  We dumped our belongings in our rooms and went in search of food.

There is a food court in the Trafford Centre with a good selection of places to eat, but naturally with 6 different people it is not easy to keep everyone happy, and when we did agree on somewhere there was an hour's wait.  Finally we found an Italian where we could sit down immediately but my youngest didn't want this.  Overtired and over hungry he was distraught.  You would have thought the world was coming to an end because he didn't want to eat pasta.  Thankfully it was very child friendly and the waiter looked as though he was used to unreasonable children having tantrums over their garlic bread.  Half an hour later when we had persuaded him to eat he was a different child and equilibrium was restored.  We left and I tried to slip in the option of  a quick browse round the shops for half an hour but this was met with derision so we all went back to the Premier Inn.

The 3 older boys went to their room and we settled youngest and Winnie the Pooh down in ours.  About half an hour later as I was sitting quietly reading there was a knock at the door.  Being a cynical parent I assumed arguments and fighting but Duvet Boy wasn't well and they were being sensible and calling me in.  He is very good if he is ill and doesn't make a fuss. As I went into his bathroom where he was still throwing up he decided that this was a good time to tell me he hadn't been feeling well all day!  Doing what I could I tried to make sure he was ok and left with instructions to tell me if there were any more problems.  Thankfully all was fine.

The next morning we had breakfast.  Duvet Boy felt well enough to eat a little and the boys were very excited with the wide selection.  I warned youngest to be careful what he chose as certain foods would make him thirsty and we weren't allowed to take drinks in with us, but naturally this went unheeded and as we arrived at the Stadium and queued for me to have my bag checked and sealed at security he started with "Mum I really need a drink" and "Mum, I am so thirsty".  It took us nearly two hours to get through the checks and into our seats, and by the time we were able to by some water the little one was definitely up for an Oscar for his portrayal of the dehydrated child not allowed anything to quench his debilitating thirst.

With everyone in their seats we could at last watch the game.  Japan were playing Egypt and Japan were definitely the better side.  With a 3-0 win and a sending off it was quite a good match but not quite the same as when you go to see a team you support (although watching GB lose on penalties later wouldn't have been too much fun).  

We left at the end happy to have been to an Olympic event and with our tickets as souvenirs.  It wasn't the event I would have chosen but the Games won't be back on home soil in my life time or perhaps even theirs (especially as they kept saying we are the only country to have held them 3 times), so at least we can say we were there.

BarMitzvah Diary - Part 2

Today it is exactly 4 months until the Bar Mitzvah Party and it is weird to be working on an autumnal event even though summer seems to have only just appeared!

Last week we went to the party venue for a food tasting of the menu we have chosen.  We were given the whole meal and even tried the wine.  Sitting in the hotel restaurant it felt like an episode of Master Chef except that my other half has more hair than Greg and I don't have John's accent.  All the food was beautifully presented until we hacked into it and it felt a bit weird asking a professional chef for a few amendments if things weren't quite as we liked.  The people at the hotel were really helpful and we left feeling very full, unusually important and as chief wine taster I felt incredibly chilled.

A couple of days later the lady doing the invitations asked if I had completed my guest list.  As we had agreed that this information wasn't needed until the end of August I had of course done nothing.  I find doing this job the most difficult.  There are always people who you want to invite but you don't have the numbers, then there are those who you would rather leave out but you are obligated to invite, and do you invite the children or just the parents?  All the time you are having these dilemmas you know in the back of your mind that whatever you do someone will be offended or have a comment to make.  I have just about finished now, and am waiting on a couple of post codes before I pass the names over and can cross this job off my list.

Visiting the venue and arranging the invitations inspired me into action with other smaller things. I thought it would be nice to have confetti on the tables which matches the theme.  Getting slightly OCD I was trawling through listings on Google until I came across a company in America who had exactly what I wanted.  Checking with them they said they would post to the UK which was great. I went and ordered 7 bags of confetti with each weighing maybe 10g, and expected postage to be more than the standard £2.95 but wasn't expecting $84!  An email to query this price was met with stony silence and so my search continues....

With the sun shining and the boys off school I think the next few weeks will be quiet on the Bar Mitzvah front.  The lessons will continue throughout the summer but otherwise it will quiet until September when the invitations go out and everything needs to be finalised, so for now I will enjoy the calm and not worry too much that I haven't even started looking for my all important dress.

Cox by Kate Lace

There is a new summer blockbuster just about to hit the shelves.  With perfect timing Cox, by Kate Lace is a story of  love and lust centred around rowing and ambitions of being part of the Olympic team.

At the centre of the story there are three main characters. Dan is a dark and handsome man who has come from nothing and works night and day to fulfil his ambitions and reach the pinnacle of his sport by rowing in the Olympics.  His nemesis is the rich and arrogant, but good looking and charming Rollo who's idea of a good time is seducing women and spending his money.  They may hate each other but when out rowing in the boat they work in perfect unison.  In to this heady mix of testosterone comes Amy.  She is the top notch Cox who catches the attention of both men and becomes involved in their battle as they fight to win the race of their lives.

When I started this book I knew nothing about rowing, but the story draws you into the athletes' world with the highs and lows of training, selection, winning races and dedication needed to be top of the sport. You agonise with the athletes when they lose and feel their joy when they win.  The tempo is fast and flowing and with plenty of sex, hunky bodies and lust going on this is one hot book.  It is the perfect holiday read.

The Weirder Side Of Wimbledon

Last week on the only hot day we had I was fortunate enough to go to Wimbledon.  It is a truly British experience from the Pimms and strawberries & cream, to the dress code of the players and officials, and the atmosphere in the grounds was buzzing.

Without any delays for rain I was able to watch four matches, two men's and two women's and whilst sitting there it struck me that some of the players' habits are quite weird!  They seem to have various idiosyncrasies that perhaps are missed when you watch on the television.  I am not mentioning names but you may know the player who feels a need to pull his shorts out of his bottom after every rally.  I am sure he could afford a bigger size!  Or there is the player who wipes the top of his hat with his towel after every shot, why?

The other thing which strikes me as odd is what they do with the tennis balls when they are serving.  After a shot perhaps only one ball has been used so they take a second.  This I understand, but why take a third or even a fourth?  They look at the tennis balls and then give two back.  What do they expect to see?  Are the tennis balls letting the players know which are better or more likely to give them an ace?  Sometimes when the players ask the ball boy for a ball they have none.  If they turn and walk about four paces they can ask the other ball boy to pass the ball, but they don't.  They get this second ball boy to roll the tennis balls to the first one and then take four so they can give two back!

With the weather being so hot (sorry to keep mentioning this), the need for a towel was genuine, but in the matches I watched the lower seeds all left their towels on a chair and only the higher seeds took theirs onto court.  It made me wonder if the higher your ranking the more you sweat!

Whilst the players were busy with their volleys and back hands I sat there and tried to make sure I watched as much tennis as I could, but often spectators leave half way through a match.  If you have bought tickets to (in my opinion) the best Grand Slam tournament of them all, why miss hours of the games?  You could see that most of those who stayed were genuine fans but there were a couple of ladies sitting behind us who didn't stop talking.  By the end of the afternoon their whole family history, holiday plans, leak in the house, ant problem and recent shopping trip were common knowledge to anyone sitting in the rows surrounding them.  I really wanted someone to have tennis rage and get them to be quiet.

However chattering ladies aside, as the sun set and I headed home I was grateful for the weather, happy to have watched some enjoyable matches and really pleased to have had an opportunity to be at Wimbledon,  especially as the strawberries there are definitely better than anywhere else.  Now I can't wait to put my name into the ballot next year and keep my fingers crossed.

Barmitzvah Diary Part 1

In the Jewish faith when a boy is 13 it is traditional for him to have a Bar Mitzvah which signifies his move from child to man.  My middle one Matthew is going to be 13 and at the end of November he will have his Bar Mitzvah.

Depending on how religious you are there are variations on the way this is done, but basically there is a service in the synagogue where the boy has to say prayers and/or do part of the service, and this is followed by a lunch or party for friends and family.

Although this sounds quite straight forward it obviously takes a little bit of organisation!  What happens in the service is largely dictated by the synagogue, but wherever the family belongs there is always a lot of work for the boy.  Passages need to be learnt in Hebrew, which is confusing for no other reason than it must be read backwards from right to left, and when the scrolls are read there is no punctuation.  The words are sung but there is no melody written, which means it all has to be remembered and it is very different from any language learnt in school.  Matthew has started his lessons and fortunately is diligent.  Mainly he listens on his iPod and so far there has only been a limited amount of wailing as he sings his portion.

The other part of the celebration is the party.  This varies from a simple lunch with immediate family to an all singing, all dancing affair in an expensive hotel.  We have tried to go for the middle ground.

As soon as Matthew had his 11th birthday we requested the date we preferred for his Barmitzvah.  The service will take place on the Saturday morning and we wanted to have the party on the Sunday.  We know that the last Monday in November is always an inset day at school and by having our preferred weekend we could all have a lie in and wind down day on the Monday.  Once the date was confirmed we needed a venue.  It seems mad looking so early but there was a disco we had used for the twins and this was already booked when we phoned them two years in advance.

Anyway venue was chosen, disco booked, photographer called and I knew that I had 18 months where I could forget about everything.  That time is now over, and we are getting down to the finer details.  With a Bar Mitzvah it can be less formal than a wedding and quite often there is a theme.  For the twins it was football and specifically Manchester United and for Matt is is something completely different.  When the invitations go out I will tell you what it is, but for now I have to keep quiet, sorry!

It is funny to be thinking about invitations in June for a function in four and a half months but they have to be sent out with enough time for people to reply and and us to give final numbers to the venue.  The names and addresses have to be given by the end of August so the invitation lady has time to make them.  Everything needs to be organised far earlier that you imagine and with the school holidays approaching I would really like to have names and addresses finalised by the time the boys break up.  

Next months we are going to do a food tasting to make sure that the meal we have chosen tastes as good as it sounds so I will update you on progress then as the countdown really begins.

Our Exchange Student

As the boys have got older I have (usually under duress) had quite a few friends sleeping over.  This is normally fine as I know the children and apart from the grumpy and over tired son that I need to contend with on the following morning, it is very rare to have any problems.  I have even managed to have a friend of mine staying with us for a couple of days, but for some reason my family always refuse to sleep here!

On Saturday I have a visitor arriving for six days.  He is a foreign exchange student who has limited English and who I have never met before.  I am sure he is lovely because my eldest stayed with his family last year and they were exceptionally kind and hospitable, but in some ways this makes the return leg even more daunting.  

As I know nothing about  this person how do I know what he is like in the morning?  On a school day I cannot cope with another Duvet Boy as there will be an extra person to get out of the door (OMG that makes 5 boys!).  Will he understand the urgency of being on time for the train?  He doesn't need public transport and with only an older brother away at university is probably not used to the shenanigans that go in my house.  He also needs a packed lunch, but I don't know what he likes to eat.  I don't want him to be hungry and for him to complain to his family that he wasn't fed!

I know that his school have organised some lovely trips into London but also feel we need to do our bit over the weekend.  My eldest was talking of a gathering of all the English and Spanish students on the Saturday evening but who knows what will be organised.  We are doing a tour of Wembley Stadium on Sunday as he loves football and perhaps I can persuade my other half that this is a good Father's Day present for him too?!

If it is a bit daunting for us it must be quite unnerving for him to be living in a strange house for a week.  I am sure the noise will be quite a shock and also long the days.  Every evening he needs collecting him from the station at a different time, and although I understand that different tours take varying amounts of time, logistically it is a nightmare.  The collection can be between 5 and 9pm, so there will be rotas going to make sure he is ok and I will be praying that there are no problems with the underground.

I

I am hoping that we will be able to improve his English and that perhaps he will learn less swear words than my eldest on his trip!  To be fair my son's week away definitely helped his Spanish and his confidence improved dramatically.  If we can do the same for his friend we will have done well.  

Now all I need to do is make sure his bed is made up, there is relative calm on his arrival (at least for a little bit) and ensure I have stocked enough food that he likes in the fridge.  Hopefully then we will be fine.

The Last Minute

It is a regular comment to be heard in our house "Why didn't you get all books/find your school shoes/print off your homework last night?"  There is always one child who suddenly remembers that he hasn't done or got something he needs literally as we are meant to walk out of the front door, and I always berate said child on their lack of organisation.  However it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps as I am actually no better than them.

A couple of days ago my youngest had a party to go to.  I had bought the present last week but for some reason had not wrapped it up when I got home.  It sat there until just before we were meant to leave when I suddenly had a panic and thought I didn't have enough wrapping paper.  When I found the paper I couldn't get the price stickers off the boxes as they had been super glued on and then the Sellotape had vanished.  I could feel the stress levels rising but it was all my own fault for waiting until the last minute.

I am always the same when it comes to going out.  I know how long I need to get somewhere and have it in my head and then usually I think that as I have another five minutes before I go I can sort out the washing or finish tidying something.  The problem with this theory is that the job invariably takes longer than anticipated so I am pressured before I start, but do I learn?  Of course not.

I don't think any of us intentionally put pressure on ourselves but perhaps knowing you have time for something makes you relax as you know you can put off doing the work.  I have managed to do this as well!  My eldest was on an exchange last October and I have known for the last six months that the student would be coming to stay with us this June.  We also knew that we needed to sort out the room he would be staying in or he would have nowhere to sleep!  However in October with birthdays, Christmas and the New Year in front of you, the summer seems a very long way away and nothing was done.  The said child is now arriving in ten days.  You will be pleased to know the room is painted and we have a sofa bed.  The furniture is arriving the day before the student so the man delivering can't be ill or have his van break down, and the blinds will hopefully be here next week but need my other half to fit them.  This is an altogether different stress as this is the first time we have ordered made to measure from a shop and I hope they fit.  If not, we will be putting dark material at the window while we argue over who got the measurements wrong!  

Trying to think why everything is so last minute I only need to look at my youngest.  Why does he always need the toilet when I ask him to put his coat on?  He will have gone already but there is a sudden need to go again and this is usually a longer stint in the little boys room.  I am just thankful his school is very close!  As they get older there is the homework finished at midnight or students who have a term to complete an assignment but wait until the week before it is due in to start it.  They then wonder why there are no relevant books left in the library.  When we go to work we always leave the jobs we dislike until the end but that usually means it is right before a deadline.  Knowing we have to do it anyway why not just get it out of the way?  Now there is an annoying job and a pressure to complete it on time.

I know I am not unique in leaving things to the last minute and at least now I hope I may be a little more understanding of my boys when they do the same, although there is the old adage 'Do as I say and not as I do!'

Attitude Issues

When my mobile phone rang last week and I could see that it was my older boys' school calling me, my heart dropped. Until this call they had always rung if there was an accident or someone was unwell, but this time it was worse than either of these scenarios as it was a teacher wanting to discuss the attitude of one of my boys.  

The teacher had her say and was very fair and justified in her comments, and the longer the conversation went on the more I felt any worth in my parenting skills diminish.  By the time we had finished I felt physically sick, partly because she was right and largely because of the conversation with my son that I knew I would have to have later on.

Anyone with a teenager knows that they are ALWAYS right and everyone else is wrong.  This either because the other person misunderstood the situation, didn't hear what they said, didn't tell the teenager the correct information, or is just plain stupid!  Even if the sky is blue they will feel completely justified in explaining why it is green and get frustrated with you when you disagree.

When my son arrived home later that afternoon I tried to be relaxed as I knew an argument would not resolve this.  When we started talking there were, as expected reasons to counteract the teacher's points.  He had questioned a decision as he thought it was a waste of time and did not see he was wrong to do so.  I countered with the argument that perhaps it is better to be quiet and not always air your views.  (Having been married a very long time, this is something I have learned to do pretty well).  When I asked him about his poor mock results he told me he had done worse in a mock in a different subject but had good results in the proper exam.  It felt as though we were going round in circles.

I do not want my child to have a bad reputation with the teachers.  He isn't naughty, he is basically lazy.  He has the potential to do really well and the phone call was due to the frustration of the staff at not being able to make him understand why if  he is capable of getting an 'A' he should not be complacent and be satisfied with a 'B'.  

Perhaps this is something he needs to understand for himself.  I cannot do the work for him or sit the exams on his behalf.  I have my fingers tightly crossed but there is only so much I can do.  At some point he has to take responsibility and I hope that when he gets his results he will prove our worries unfounded and that the last laugh is on him and he can remind me again how he is always right!

A Review of 'Me Before You' by Jojo Moyles

In the limited spare time that I have one of the things I enjoy doing most is losing myself in a good book.  Having joined a book club about a year ago my range of reading has definitely widened and there have been quite a few good reads in that time along with one or two less successful ones!  However it is very rare to read something so good that you want to stop everything and stay within the world that the characters in the novel inhabit.

I know that I normally do not do book reviews and no-one has asked me to promote this novel, but I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to share it with you.

'Me Before You' by Jojo Moyles is a beautifully written story about Lou Clark & Will Traynor.  She is a 27 year old woman living at home, happy in her little world until she loses her job and finds herself working as a carer for quadriplegic Will Traynor.  He has been injured two years previously and is bitter about the loss everything in his life that had been important.  From his job and his holidays to his girlfriend there is nothing left.  The story is about their relationship and how it builds and develops from it's very rocky start.

We see how hard the daily routing is for Will and the constant pain he is in.  We watch as Lou learns to help with his medication, how to help feed him and gets to a point of understanding his needs so that it becomes second nature to her.  We see the anguish of Will's mother and the discomfort in the eyes of strangers, but we also see how Will wants to broaden Lou's horizons and how she manages to get him to leave the comfort blanket of the annexe where he lives.  We see the banter between the two of them and the strengthening of their feelings for each other.

Although written mainly through the voice of Lou, there are some other chapters where characters such as her sister or Will's father have their take on what is happening, and this is what helps to make it such a rounded story.  The characters are so real that you feel as if you know them and the dialogue so natural that we could be speaking ourselves.  

However this is more than just a love story.  At the centre of this is a moral dilemma which  will impact on everyone's lives.  (You need to read it to find out what it is).  In my heart I knew what I wanted to happen but in my head I wasn't so sure, and I was hoping as much as Lou for what she wanted.  I laughed and cried, and I finished the book thinking Jojo Moyles had got it completely right.  

Football Family

Sitting at home on a Saturday evening we have somewhat inevitably ended up watching the Champions League Final.  Our family are not Chelsea fans and we have no vested interest in the result as it does not affect our team, so why are sitting here at 10.10 in the evening wondering if we will be watching penalties in a few minutes?

I know many will say that with an all male household (apart from me) I am daft to expect anything else and perhaps I am.  I remember that as soon as they could toddle around the garden the boys would instinctively kick any ball they saw.  This wasn't me showing them or influence from anywhere, it was just something they did.

All the boys love football.  Each one has played for the school, in a local team or in an after school club and if they are not actually kicking the ball they are watching football, discussing it, putting comments on Facebook & Twitter, or winding up their friends in a text.

Football is all consuming and last weekend when Manchester United lost, won and finally lost the league title to their rivals there was an air of depression.  Any true fan will know this is not an exaggeration as the strength of feeling by a supporter cannot be underestimated.  I remember my brother at a pay phone from a school trip calling my parents in tears as his team had lost the FA Cup.

As I am writing this the two teams have just finished extra time and now it is penalties.  This is often the time I have peered through my fingers and I ask the boys what is happening.  I am not as good as them at the stressful bits of the games!

After tonight the focus will be on the Euros and then the discussion will be on any signings and changes before the new season begins again.  Football never really disappears it just has slightly less prominence in our lives. 

As I sit here Chelsea have just won the Champions League and perhaps now I can subtly turn over the TV to something else!  Tomorrow we have our own end of season presentation to go to and then we will have our weekend back for a few weeks before it all starts again.  Whoever it was that said that football is more than just a game must have been looking through our window.

Getting Ready To Go Out Is No longer Glamorous

Like most people if I am given the opportunity to go out and have a good time it is very rare for me to say no, and whilst I am out it's great, but quite often the time before you leave can make you wonder if it's all worthwhile.

Last night I was fortunate to be invited to a function and whilst it was amazing when I was there, before I left I still needed to make sure supper was on the table and the boys were organised, know that homework was being done and that I was sorted for the school run the following morning. I do like to think I am quite organised but even I began to panic when I was still cooking at 5pm and was meant to be leaving at 5.30!  It is hard to be glamorous when there is never more than twenty minutes, and if I am undecided about a dress or accessories it spells big trouble!

This is compounded when there is a  family event where everyone has to dress up. A few months ago I had bought a new shirt for one of the twins and asked him to try it on.  He told me it fitted perfectly, but somehow when it came to wearing it a week later it was too narrow and the sleeves were too short! Obviously we had a deadline to get out of the house, were already running late and I hadn't even thought about getting dressed so what could I do?  Could he swap with Duvet Boy?  Definitely not!  Hell would freeze over before they shared clothes so I wasn't even going to attempt asking.  Instead, with the minutes ticking away we had to start trawling in his wardrobe hoping I had missed something or praying the clothes fairy visited whilst I was asleep.  In the end as the clothes fairy had been on a day off we had to go with a white school shirt and hope for the best.

Dress disasters are nothing new and in our home definitely not limited to me.  A hem that has come down on trousers or a growth spurt that means they are too short is always a worry.  The older boys are very specific in what they like to wear but not always happy to go shopping.  I gave up buying clothes for them on my own a long time ago because either they didn't approve or the items just didn't fit, but knowing you have a function to go to it is hard to know when to drag them out shopping.  Too early and they may grow, too late and they make not have the size or colour wanted.

I always find that no matter how much time I think I have it is never enough.  This is probably because everyone wants me for something and for some reason I become the focal point of the whole house.  The youngest needs me to get his clothes as he isn't sure what he is wearing, whilst my middle one knows what he is wearing but cannot find anything unless it is literally under his nose.  Meanwhile Duvet Boy is incapable of moving at more than a snail's pace but takes the longest time to preen himself and even my other half will be asking me if his tie matches or his hair is ok.

When I finally get round to sorting myself out I choose my make up on the basis of what can and cannot be finished off in the car, check my legs don't need a last minute shave or that I haven't found a previously unseen ladder in my tights and then ensure that I can hide in the bathroom for long enough to put my clothes on in peace.  Naturally by the time I am in the bathroom my other half is ready and nagging me to leave, but being a dutiful wife I ignore him.

Finally everyone is ready and although not necessarily eager, still clean and tidy enough to leave.  A last minute toilet run for the youngest, and a final check in the mirror from the older ones and we can go.  This just leaves the pleasures of the Sat Nav and traffic on the M25, but that is another story.

Party Time

Although I know you don't get to pick when your baby arrives, it does make life quite difficult when all four of your boys have their birthdays within a three week period.  In fact as I was being induced with my middle one I remember asking the rather bewildered registrar to change the planned date so I could ensure I was home and organised for the twins 3rd birthday party!  To be fair he did oblige, my middle one arrived safely and I was able to be at the party and make sure the twins had a good day.

As there is a bigger gap between my middle and youngest, by the time he became old enough for a party I had been out of the loop for quite a long time.  Walking into the first nursery party he had been invited to I felt a sense of dread seeing all the food out on the side, and that was only for the parents! The idea of starting again with loads of pre-school children and their parents did not inspire me with joy, but once he was in an environment where all his nursery friends were having them it is almost impossible to avoid it yourself.  As my youngest got older he became far more aware of his birthday.  It is not that he is precocious and wants lots of things but he loves having all his friends with him and although his birthday is not until November he has already mentioned the possibility of a football party.  With six months to go I refuse to discuss it.

However what happens as they grow out of the entertainer and soft play parties?  Bowling was popular and we have done a few cinema trips with the older ones, and this was fine.  Now the big ones are fifteen there are no more parties unless I am feeling particularly warm and loving when they hit 21, so you would think everything was easy.  Well it was until last week when one of the big ones told me he had been invited to a party, and more importantly he said that there was going to be alcohol there.  Although I was really pleased he had told me I was also nervous and rather naively hadn't expected anything like this yet.  What could I do?  As he had been mature enough to tell me I had to treat him in an adult fashion.  We discussed mixing drinks or having too much and what would happen if he was sick in my car!   What drinks would they have?  Would it be beer, spirits or so perhaps cider?  

At the end of the evening when we collected him he was fine.  He was had enjoyed himself and told us what he had drunk.  Thankfully it wasn't much and after ensuring he had a big glass of water we sent him off to bed for a good sleep.  Perhaps you think I should have stopped him from going but if I did this would he be upfront with me in the future?  At this age it is so hard to know what is going on in a teenagers life that I am pleased that he is happy to talk to me and he needs to know that I trust him. Although we would not have a party where there were drinks it is almost inevitable that they will start going to places where they will have access to it.  They are growing up and now I wish my only worry was what to put inside the going home bags.

My Special Relationship

How many times on the news have we heard a political analyst talking about 'the special relationship' between the UK and America?  Is it still there? Is is still as strong as we have a different Prime Minister or President?  Does it even exist?

Some of those questions will perhaps never be answered but I do know that in my life I am very blessed.  I have my own special relationship.  It is not with my other half (thought I love him lots), with my children or with my amazing friends but with a lady who although she is more than double my age still astounds me.  This lady is small in stature but big in heart, she has an opinion on everything but will still listen, and her family comes before everything.  This lady is my Grandmother.

Born in Hungary she has stories to tell of her life that would not be believed if they were made into a film.  She has lived through so much, but she is a survivor and when she talks it means more than any history books.  Her voice is instantly recognisable as she has never completely lost her accent, but this makes her stand out.  In Hungarian the word for grandmother is 'Omi' and not only do I call her that, but when I was growing up all my friends did as well.  Those childhood friends still call her Omi today because she has a special place in their hearts.

So much has changed in her lifetime and some things have been easier to adapt to than others. A mobile phone that is never switched on slightly defeats the purpose of having one, but the recent acquisition of an iPad was far more successful. 

We have differing views in so many areas, but however much we 'discuss' things very loudly on the phone, at the end of the conversation no one is offended and we both know we can say whatever we want to each other.

My grandmother is a true force of nature.  She is independent and feisty, she will not take any nonsense from anyone, and if she is not happy about something she is not afraid to say so.  She is also tactile,  warm and  caring, and her love for her family is immeasurable. I feel so lucky to have her in my life and this is my way of saying thank you for everything.

Playing Means More than Just Fun

Once the boys had moved beyond more than just eating, sleeping and needing a nappy change their day was filled first with rattles and squeaky toys and then with noisy musical things which all seemed to play the same tune!  As they have grown up play has been integral to their learning and has taught them so much without them even realising it.

The importance of play cannot be underestimated, but it is time consuming and sometimes difficult for parents to know how to play with their children.  Ribena did a study over of over 2,000 parents and (in their Ribena Plus Play Report) whilst 92% believe imaginary play is important 16% don't know how to create it. In fact there is so little to create.  If you follow your child's lead they will take you into their new world with whatever it holds and often they just want you to be there to go along for the ride. Whatever jobs need to be done, they will not go anywhere, and whilst 27% of parents feel guilty for playing instead of doings chores, why not leave them for a few minutes and have some fun! It is hard when we worry about everything we have to do, but the time with the children won't come back and sometimes having some fun with them relaxes us so it makes it easier to go back to the essentials.

In my old work I used to have a lot of large cardboard boxes to package items for courier deliveries.  The minute the box was left lying around it became my son's new best toy.  It was a place to hide, a home for his teddy bears, and it is a shame that Ribena's report show only 13% of kids still play with household items whilst 70% play video games and 90% watch DVDs.  

What is good though is that Ribena want to encourage parents to 'rediscover the joys of exploratory play' and there are downloadable help sheets on the Ribena Plus website http://blog.ribena.co.uk/posts/the-ribena-plus-play-report/
 to give ideas and tips for easy play ideas that are fun and inexpensive.  There are so many pressures on all of us, and with 30% of parents aware their kids spend too much time watching TV let's get Ribena to help and get back to playing.

Control Freak or Organised Genius?

Yesterday morning as I walked into the house just after nine o'clock I could feel the quiet and the calm enveloping me. All the boys were back at school and order had been restored.  Don't get me wrong, I love the school holidays.  For a start there is no alarm clock reminding me that although it is only 6.30am I still need to get up, and there are none of the time constraints of term time.  If my youngest goes to bed twenty minutes after his normal time it doesn't matter, and if we leave the house fifteen minutes later than planned it isn't a problem.  However, everything is very vague during the holidays.  Arrangements are planned last minute and the catering department never knows quite how many it needs to supply food to. 

Whilst it is great for the boys to be busy and socialising I have to admit that I am not very good with vague, or to put it another way I think my family consider me to be a bit (or perhaps a lot) of a control freak.  When I go to bed  quite often I am thinking about the following day.  Have the older ones got their ingredients for Food Tech?  Has my middle one checked the time for his trumpet lesson?  Do I have enough bread for sandwiches or do I need to leave my nice warm duvet and get a loaf out from the freezer?  I know these questions are mundane but they are what keep the wheels turning.

It's funny how easily I am mocked but how many mornings before I even get a "Morning Mum" does someone say "I can't find any school socks" or "Is my PE top ready as I need it now?"  That is usually the one I found caked in mud on the floor under a pile of other unmentionable clothes three days earlier, which I was kind enough to wash.

I know that I am the one who needs some sense of order and routine probably to feel as though I am on top of things.  I am not good with clutter and whenever something is lost it is assumed that I have binned it!  To this accusation I will maintain a dignified silence but my logic is that if it is tidy it has to be easier to find a memory stick or piece of homework. 

Although I have an iPhone any arrangements, appointments, school trips or social events are in an old fashioned diary.  Everything is in one place and accessible to all but funnily no-one else ever seems to know what is going on.  With 5 other people at home there is a lot of repetition of the same questions such as  "What are we doing this weekend?"  My other half is happy to socialise but doesn't deem it important enough to actually remember who we are seeing and where we are going and when I tell him he still doesn't remember.   By the time he is asking me for the third time which restaurant we are eating in I could happily throttle him, and if we need a babysitter the magic fairy is brilliant at booking her.    

It is the little things which get organised and done that no-one questions.  Miraculously when there is a birthday or a party a present and card appear, revision books arrive in the post just as they are needed, money is always ready to top up oyster cards on a Monday morning and although there were only a few drops of milk in the fridge in the morning there is another bottle ready to be opened by the afternoon. 

Perhaps doing these things is just part of being a parent or being organised, perhaps as my family seem to think it makes me a control monster, but either way it means things normally happen on time with everyone in the right place, taking the necessary items with them, and knowing what they should be doing.

An Easy Easter?

I am under no illusions that in my house it is impossible to please all the people all the time.  In fact if I can get to 75% I think I am doing a pretty good job.  On a day to day basis this is pretty do-able but over a long bank holiday weekend it is lot more demanding.

Weather plays a big part on the equanimity of my brood.  A bit of sunshine and a decent temperature and everyone is far more positive about the possibility of venturing out.  However if it is cold enough to need the heating on and the rain hasn't stopped since the night before it is not so easy.

This weekend was not helped by the fact I wasn't well.  My youngest kindly gave me his sickness bug and without going into too many gory details I was fit for nothing and spent most of the Friday in bed. As any parent knows this is not a decision taken lightly and thinking back I am sure the last time I was in bed in all day I was in labour giving birth to said youngest! 

Things did pick up and apart from one (who had wrangled tickets to a football match) the rest of us managed a few hours out with friends on Sunday afternoon which was good fun.  There had been the normal complaints prior to leaving but this is standard and I try to not to get riled by it, although I do sometimes wonder if I ever complained as much.  Perhaps my perceptions have changed over the years but I always thought going out was quite fun!  Anyway, we went out, everyone seemed to have a good time and we all returned home quite upbeat which meant only one day left of the long weekend.

I awoke to the dreaded sound of heavy rain against the window and knew it was going to be a very long day.  Nobody knew what they wanted to do, and none of the boys were happy with any suggestions put to them (obviously at this point Duvet Boy was still asleep so didn't take part in this discussion).  

Plans were made but there was a lot of bickering and arguing.  It was one of those days when referee would have been a better title than parent, and it wasn't helped by the fact that my other half could smile quietly to himself whilst all this is going on as he knows tomorrow is escape day.  He will have left before any of the boys are up, and won't return until youngest is going to bed and the others have hopefully mellowed.  

Of course we survived in tact even if some of us finished more stressed than others.  Planning is being finalised for the remainder of the holidays and usual duties will be resumed in the morning.  I think that under the circumstances things went as well as they could have done and now I am just hoping for a bit of sunshine before the May bank holiday.

Planning & Children Don't Mix

I don't know if it is because I am a parent or just that I have become cynical in my old age but I have come to the conclusion that it is not worth planning anything.

Take today as an example, and bear in mind that it is only day two of the school holidays.  Last night Duvet Boy made plans to go to the cinema with his friend who was coming back to us afterwards.  Twin brother was also texting late and by 10pm had arranged to meet a friend and he was coming back for a sleepover, whilst middle son's day included the cinema and friend over with friend leaving early enough for him to go to football training.  My youngest was at camp and it was my turn to collect, so was bringing him back with his friend.  Everyone was busy and happy and all I needed to worry about was ensuring there was enough food for seven children, so a giant Spaghetti Bolognaise seemed like a good idea as this always goes down well.

However peace and equilibrium do not last long.  Duvet Boy cancels arrangements with friend as I won't drop him at the station and he won't walk, so he is home grumpy and still not doing the GCSE revision I am stressing about.  His twin then postpones his plans as his friend is being diligent and working and everything becomes too late to make it worthwhile.  Thankfully middle son goes off and has a good day, so he is cheerful.  When I collect my youngest and his friend they are chatty and happy in the car. Shortly after we arrive back a friend of mine (yippee!) unexpectedly pops in for a quick coffee which is lovely as I haven't seen her for ages.  Just as we sit down my littlest man comes in telling me he feels sick.  As he is known at home as Hypochondria Man I do not take this seriously until he goes ashen and is actually ill.  Thankfully my friend is a good one and this is not the first of my children she has seen throwing up!  Youngest goes to bed unnaturally early leaving big concerns over 4am start to tomorrow but I can't worry about that at this point as I have tried to be organised and the oldest two have an appointment at the barber.  Not able to take little man with me I can't drop them off.  As you may have guessed already, Duvet Boy refuses to go as the 15 minute walk may do some permanent damage, so his brother braves the elements on his own.  This is fine until he needs to come back and the heavens open up.  Even I take pity at this point and as luck would have it the mobile cry for help coincides with the return of Dad who is despatched out to retrieve soaked teenager.  However on the plus side at least one looks reasonable now and Duvet Boy will be sorting out his own haircut.

And so as we reach the end of the day I have sick child in bed who has been asleep since 5.30, one at football training in the rain, and two at home chilling.  If we are lucky we will fulfil tomorrow's plans and make the dentist appointment I booked 6 months ago to ensure it was during the school holidays.  I know duvet boy will go to this as we have to drive.  The two youngest are meant to be getting hair cuts in the afternoon so fingers crossed for that and the older ones are each tapping on their Blackberry's sorting their afternoons on the basis that I am able to leave the house and chauffeur duties can be resumed.  Is it worth be worrying about accommodating everyone's plans or fitting everything in?  Probably not as today has shown me again what happens to the best laid plans.  My only dilemma now is what to do with my two tons of Bologaise?

Wardrobe Woes

Waking up in the morning with the sun shining makes such a difference and makes getting out of bed early a lot more bearable, but as the temperature soars it reminds me that I need to think about swapping round my winter and summer clothes, and this is where the problem begins.

Last year I had been determined that this was the summer I would ditch the old, out of date stuff that had been hanging round in my wardrobe for so long the styles had come around again and disappeared again!  However the usual thing occurred in so far as the boys had all grown (again), and had nothing which fitted them (again) and by the time they had their new t-shirts, shorts, footwear, etc, I felt as though I had done enough spending and couldn't really justify getting too much for me.  The result was me standing in front of my wardrobe and moaning for three months that I had nothing to wear.  This year though I am determined will be different.

Before I even start I did think about having a no holds barred clear out of everything and trashing anything I haven't worn this millenium, throwing outfits bought on impulse (which were regretted once I got home), or ditching any clothes I have hated for the last five years, but I realised that would only leave me with one pair of jeans so that is not really feasible.  I need to get new and will work on the basis that as I put something into my wardrobe I must  throw something from one of the aforementioned categories.

First of all I must start earlier.  If I wait until July I will only find the' new season autumn collection' so now the sun is out I will begin.  Going to the local shopping centre recently there were sales everywhere with big discounts to be had and this was a great incentive.  However there is one downside to being efficient in so far as the excesses of the winter are still obviously visible.  I don't feel slim enough yet to be seen in t-shirts where there is no-where to hide the flab.  It takes me until at least May to feel I can expose any more than my forearms so I now have a dilemma.  Do I shop based on how I am now or go for how I want to look in three months time?

I also need to change my mindset.  When I buy clothes for the boys, whilst there is no designer gear, if they like something and they need it I just buy it, but for myself  I stand agonising over whether or not to get it.  What will it go with?  Do I really need it?  Should I spend the money - yes it's only Primark!

So now I feel galvanized into action.  I know what I need to do, and my wardrobe needs me to act.  The only thing I need to remember is to hide the next credit card bill!  Wish me luck.

Domestic Disasters

For those who still use them a dictionary's meaning of disaster is a crushing misfortune, a calamity or a terrible accident and whilst a domestic disaster might not be seen by all as a crushing misfortune for those involved it can definitely be viewed as a calamity.

Of course domestic problems have a scale of woe and vary depending on what you priorities are.  For some it is the loss of the dishwasher, for others a coffee maker makes the difference to everyday sanity, and for me the loss of my washing machine is by far the worst thing that can happen.  With all my men I have  to make sure that on a weekly basis I can wash 3 sets of football kits, 4 school uniforms, 25 shirts and a variety of t-shirts and jumpers before I even think about the bed linen and towels.  My washing machine is on every single day and only has a rest when I go on holiday!  

I had an occasion when the boys were smaller and my other half was away and the washing machine seemed to be making a funny noise.  I tried to ignore it as it was in the middle of a cycle but suddenly water started gushing out of the tube at the back at an alarming rate and I didn't know how to stop it!  In a panic I called my brother who lives a few streets away to help.  By the time he arrived about five minutes later the floor was flooded and I looked as though I had been in the shower fully dressed. My brother managed to secure the tube but I still needed to phone the repair man to sort out the noise.  Sounding completely neurotic I made him promise to get to me as quickly as he could and see if it was repairable. In the meantime I was on the internet researching new machines just in case.  The brands, models, price range and options were wide and quite daunting but I needed to know how quickly I could get a new machine if required, as the thought of an ever increasing mountain of clothes was terrifying.  Fortunately my new best friend sorted the problem with a small part and sanity and equilibrium were restored, now all I needed to do was sort out the floor......

Two Sides Of Mothers Day

I consider myself very lucky to say that my Mum was my best friend.  I am not trying to be slushy in the lead up to Mother's Day but it was the truth.  Slightly off the wall with a great sense of humour she could relate to any person of any age.  Once she started laughing at something she could sit with my brother or me and 20 minutes after a joke had been made still be laughing with tears rolling down her cheeks. Completely obsessed with Kids from Fame she took me to see them, and it was special because it was my first proper concert.  She would take my brother to football matches and when she got tickets for Arsenal against Manchester United she was the only person I know who could get away with cheering when United scored even though we were sitting in the Arsenal end.

Even when I was younger I appreciated how lucky I was to have this relationship.  Friends would come and talk to her about things they couldn't discuss at  home and people were always welcome.  Of course things weren't perfect and we did have arguments as teenagers do, but with my Dad away a lot on business the three of us at home had a very close bond.

I lost my mum when I was 19 after she had struggled with cancer for four years and like anyone who has lost someone close to them it is hard when they are not there for the milestones in your life.  She missed my graduation, first proper job, buying a house, marriage and the birth of my children.  In the first few years after she died when Mothers Day would appear it felt like it was everywhere reminding me of what I had lost, but the years do give perspective now Mothers Day arrives and I am a parent myself.

I know that this Sunday there will still be football, parties and the usual amount of running around, but I also know that the boys will try and make the day special.  A home made card from my youngest, a cup of tea or even to have control of the TV remote would be lovely.  It is nice to have acknowledgement for my role in the family.  Having an unpaid job where you have no time off and there are an unbelievable amount of customer relation issues, chauffeur duties, administrative requirements, and an all day restaurant service it is lovely to feel that you are appreciated!

I know that if she were here my Mum would love her grandsons and tell me to enjoy every minute of every day as this time is special.  I hope that one day my boys will look back and think they had a good relationship with me as they grew up.  If they feel half as proud to have me as their mum as I felt about my own mother then I think I will have done a pretty good job.

Do you have a best memory of something you did with your Mum as you were growing up?  Is there some advice she gave that you still live by?  Let us know something that your Mum has done or still does to make your life better and you can win the compete first and second season of Castle on DVD.  Just follow or become a member and post your comment underneath. 

 Comp closes 11.59 on 23 March 2012 

Jury Service Continued

Now a 'second weeker' I was allowed to return at 10am on Monday morning, a whole hour later than last week.  As I was no longer a newbie I went into the restaurant whilst all those on their first week watched a DVD explaining what was required of them.  When I saw this I remember thinking how much noise there was coming from the restaurant but now I understood why.  Starting a new week there was a lot of catching up to do.  Within a few days it is amazing how much you get to know about your fellow jurors so people were busy chatting and mulling over how good/bad their weekend had been.  The previous week I had seen groups sitting together and laughing and joking whilst I sat like 'Billy No Mates' on the sofas but I had now progressed up the social pecking order as I began week two.  

When my name was called at 11am for a trial I was very pleased.  The previous week I had sat around until 3pm doing nothing so this was a major improvement.  Unfortunately though there was a problem and we had to wait until 4pm before we actually went into court to be sworn in, so five hours later I was picked ready to start the case the following day.

By this stage I had already been involved with a couple of trials and knowing how everything runs made it feel less intimidating.  What I found the most interesting was how twelve people can view the same evidence but have such differing opinions.  This is obviously why there are twelve people, but it is fascinating how one person can be so sure one way and someone else adamant in their thoughts whilst having a completely opposite view.

Finishing a case on Wednesday we were not sure if would be needed for any other trials, so just left at the end of the day.  It transpired that this was the end of my jury tenure but as it had been such a vague ending there had been no opportunity to say goodbye to my jury compatriots.  They have all gone back to their jobs, children and lives as I have returned to mine.  I have left my Jury Bubble and returned to the real world, but it was definitely more fun than I had anticipated, and a lot more interesting.  So, if you receive a letter in the post requesting you to attend jury service, then embrace it.  You might find it more rewarding than you think.

Appreciate What you Have

Like most people I spend a lot of time running around.  This has probably been compounded recently with the Jury Service and the fact my other half has been away.  Rushing in the morning so I am not late, rushing in the evening to get back, make supper and do a few basic chores, and then trying to fit in whatever needs to be done at the weekend before collapsing into bed every night exhausted.

This is nothing unusual as parents who juggle children and work, mothers who have to do a school run and nursery run with no time in between, and those looking after their families all do the same.  What is sad though is that in the midst of all of this there is no appreciation of what we have.

This week out of the blue somebody I know passed away.  A similar age to me he had not been ill and it was completely unexpected.  He had a loving marriage and children and there has been deep shock at what has happened.  Friends and people I have spoken to have all been upset at the news.  This is not meant to happen to a person of this age.  His children are too young to be without their father and his wife too young to be a widow.  Unlike watching terrible things on the news where there is always a distance between what I am seeing and my life,  this week is far closer to home and it is scary.

It feels so wrong but the sadness this week has made me look at my life.  How often do any of us take a step back and actually do this?  We are so busy stressing, running, worrying and doing that we never appreciate what we have.  I know I am blessed to have my boys and a good marriage.  My other half is working and I have a great family and some amazing friends.  I am fortunate to have my life and it should be appreciated.  None of us know what is round the corner and it may be corny to say it but the present is a gift for now and we should all grab it with both hands.

Jury Service

I have spent a lot of this last week sitting in a very large room with about 50 strangers and waiting.  Sometimes my name is called and other days I just sit as though I am (in the play) 'Waiting for Godot'.  I am allowed to leave the room for an hour at lunch time and at the end of the day but otherwise I stay put, reading, texting friends or talking to the person sitting next to me.

This may seem relaxing to many of you running around but actually it is tedious and more tiring than being busy.  I am, as you may have gathered from the title, currently on Jury Service, and at this precise moment have been sitting here for two hours hoping that my name may be called for the next trial.

The envelope arrived requesting my attendance back in January.  When I saw the official brown envelope my first reaction was “What have I done?” Fortunately I had not been speeding but my reaction was similar to getting a fine!  Six weeks later I have many friends to thank for sorting out my youngest after school every day and I am trying to be more organised than is natural for me, but I am making it to court every day on time and still managing to do a few of my chores at home.

Having spent my first day doing nothing except read a book I can admit to be more than a little unimpressed.  The food in the canteen makes school dinners look Michelin starred, and the day really dragged.  However on my second day I was called to trial.

It was only when I walked into the courtroom that I really felt that what I was doing was important.  There is a true sense of responsibility in being a juror which I had only vaguely thought about before that moment.  The court is very imposing and as you are sworn in there is also a sense of history in the way our judicial system is run.

After hearing the evidence there is deliberation to agree on a verdict.  It is a weird feeling to be in a room with eleven other people who may be strangers but with whom you feel an affinity.  Everyone is in the same position and everyone wants to make sure the verdict they agree on is the correct one for their case.

As I approach the end of my first week I recognise a few faces and even know some names.  People are talking more openly about themselves or their lives outside, and there is a feeling that you genuinely know the people.  However at the end of next week when I finish I will leave for the last time and probably never seen any of them again.  We will all return to our normal lives with the freedom to go in and out whenever we want, but knowing we have done our civic duty and possibly having enjoyed it more than we thought.

Parents Evening

Last night I had the daunting prospect of seeing 14 different teachers at parents evening.  Naturally my twins do not share any of the same teachers and so this is always a very long evening.  My husband was trying to get to school to help but rather unusually an accident on the M25 had delayed him.

For those of you without children in secondary school the process is not as easy or relaxed as when they are at primary.  When the boys were younger I would see the teacher and would be told how they were getting on with English, maths and possibly science.  If I pushed I sometimes managed to get some information on history, geography and any other subjects they were doing.  After the 45 minutes wait (as they always run late) it was usually pretty relaxed.  I had read the boys' books and seen their work before I went in and it felt quite small and communal as I chatted to other parents whilst waiting for my turn.

For secondary school forget everything you knew.  You walk into the school hall where there are rows and rows of desks.  Each has a teacher sitting with a name plate in front of them. It is noisy and stuffy, and all you want to do is walk straight back out, but as the boys are in year 10 (which is first year of GCSE) this was not an option. 

The boys had made appointments to see teachers from all their subjects which I was pleased about, but I could feel the stress levels starting to rise as soon as we got there as some meetings were double booked.  It felt like we were running late before we had even started.  I spent the whole evening apologising as we missed nearly every time slot.  On the plus side though, when a teacher had finished with a student he or she would look at their list and as we were so late we were always the next one to be seen, so we did queue jump a lot. I apologise to any parents who had already been waiting for 15 minutes thinking they were next in line.

Having finally sat down in front of someone you have to wait whilst they consult their sheets of paper. I have spent the last three years totally confused whilst I have been told they are a level 6A or 7B as I never understand what that means.  Why should you be at a higher level in maths than geography and why is it harder to get a decent level in history?  Anyway this is now behind us as we are talking predicted grades.  This I understand, or so I thought.  Although the grades are A* to C because there are so many elements it is hard to judge exactly where they are, however I won't talk details now as this is another issue on it's own.  Suffice it to say that at every teacher I had my son's name, the subject and written details of what the main points were as I knew that by the end of the evening my brain would not have remembered half of what had been said.

I always find interesting when the teacher asks the boys how they think they are doing or what they think will be said about them.  Amazingly they are always far more honest than when they are talking to me! It is also good to see those teachers that they do not regard quite so highly to see if their comments are justified and to be fair they usually are.

We did all manage to see everyone and two hours later we were finished.  I cannot lie and say everything was exactly as I had hoped but at least I am aware of how everything stands and what areas need to be worked on.  I have now seen everyone and the boys have nothing to hide behind when we discuss work as we both heard what the teacher had to say.  They now have to act on it and I can relax a little knowing I have another year before I have to do it all again.

The Fight For The TV Remote

People will probably wonder why I am even writing about this as the only female in a household of six, but for those who are fortunate not to have the same problems in their home I wanted to air the difficulties that are suffered when different members of the family want to watch TV.  Whilst we are fortunate to have Sky and to also have more than one television in our home this does not help with the scheduling and watching dilemmas which seem to occur relentlessly and regularly!

When Duvet Boy is awake he likes to watch football.  No-one has a problem when it is his team on the television but he does not understand why no-one else is interested in the different divisions, Spanish football, Champions League with no British interest, a re-run of all of the 1999/2000 season or a programme on the worst red card tackles in the world ever.  As my youngest was not even born during the 1999/2000 season I do think he has a valid point!

My other teenager likes comedies and is happy to watch the same programme continuously.  The Simpsons may have been going for twenty years but I am sure that by now he has seen nearly every episode and he is currently working his way through Two and a Half Men.  

The oldest two also give us a different dilemma which is based on what programmes are suitable for them.  Back in the good old days when there was no internet or You Tube, if a programme was deemed unsuitable then children were not allowed to watch it and that was the end.  Now it is not so easy.  Programmes can be seen on-line and even if you stop them at home it is impossible to stop them viewing if they are at someone else's house. We decided (rightly or wrongly) that it would be better to watch with them so now my husband sees The Inbetweeners and I think he is getting as much of an education as my boys!

Of course my middle one is literally stuck in the middle.  He cannot watch the older and more adult themed programmes but does not want to watch the same as the youngest.  If the TV is on late afternoon then usually the youngest will choose as his time is limited before bed. Quite often the middle one does not get time later as it will be too close to his bedtime and not long enough for a programme that he wants, so he does, quite rightly get miffed.  As yet I have not found a solution to this. so any suggestions will be greatly received.

As for me, well I am just glad we have Sky Planner.  Anything and everything I want to see is recorded.  This is done as I know I will never be able to sit down and watch anything when it it actually live on the TV, and even if I could, I guarantee that there would be at least half a dozen interruptions.  A one hour show always needs at least an hour and twenty minutes and that is with me fast forwarding during the ad breaks.  I am sure they know it is my time to hold the remote so it is at this point there are queries on homework, school uniform, Food Tech ingredients which are suddenly needed the following morning, or social arrangements, staying after school for sports and anything else that may suddenly spring into their minds.  I can't even wait until they have all gone to bed to watch in peace as they now go to bed as late as me.

To make things a little bit better for everyone we have managed to find a few programmes which everyone will watch together.  Dr Who, Top Gear and Outnumbered are acceptable and I know this evening will be fine as we are all big fans of Hustle.  The only argument now is how loud we need the volume to be......

Half Term

There is no question that the best thing about half term is the fact that there is no alarm clock in the morning, no groaning as the radio comes on at 6.30 and for a week, I don't have to drag myself out of bed.  Instead I can listen to my other half getting up whilst I snuggle back down under the duvet and go back to sleep.  Even my youngest has now been trained.  Although I hear him getting up, he no longer comes in to tell me he is getting up, going to the toilet, about to read a book, or going downstairs.  He just does it - perfect!  

Of course once I venture from the safety of my bedroom I realise why I was in no rush to get up as there is not a minute of the day to call my own.  The boys are all very good but each has their own agenda.  I still sort out the play dates for my youngest and need to ensure that he has a few arrangements during the week to keep him happy.  At the other end of the scale Duvet Boy does not appear until the end of the morning.  He is happy to chill at home and will make some plans, but nothing that is too taxing.  His twin still knows what a morning is and is probably more sociable but they are both so disorganised.  I don't understand why every arrangement is only planned the night before, or the morning they are seeing their friends.  This would be fine if they didn't need dropping off or collecting from somewhere miles away just as I am making lunch or trying to put the youngest to bed!  My middle one probably finds it the hardest during the holidays, because he is not as independent as the oldest but is too big for me to make plans for him.  He loves his mobile but is not quite as physically attached to it as his brothers and not quite as practised at using it to organise his life. 

Half term is lovely as a week is the right amount of time to recharge the batteries without anyone getting bored.  The cinemas are very kind and ensure there are loads of films which are out just in time for the holidays, and occasionally we find something that everyone wants to see.  This week it has to be The Muppets, and even I am looking forward to this one.  There have been a few corkers over the years and it has been known for me to fall asleep on more than one occasion but I am feeling hopeful about this one.

Intermingled with the boys' social life there is normally at least one appointment for dentist, optician or orthodontist, to ensure check ups don't mean time missed from school.  This week we are quite fortunate and only have a mass trip to the barber.  Obviously the older children are very specific about who cuts their hair as they want a certain look, and we need to ensure the appointment isn't too early for Duvet Boy, but we have managed to fit this in.

The other thing which always amazes me during the holidays is the amount of food they get through.   I will cook one 'proper' meal but the second is a freezer or easy meal.  It is very rare for anyone to have a sandwich for a light lunch.  This is saved for the snack mid way through the evening and isn't deemed big enough for a meal. I understand that I have two teenagers and one nearly teenager who are all growing, but how can they be so skinny when they eat so much?  I want to be on whatever diet they are on, eat as much as you can and a lot of it rubbish and never put on an ounce!

But I cannot chat any more, youngest has a friend here and they need lunch, but before that happens another has to be dropped off at the station.  Duvet Boy is up and needs feeding as well and middle one isn't feeling too good.  I need to remember to take one friend home and make sure I am organised with supper so that I can be out in time for football training later.  Not sure what time eldest and his friend are coming back from the cinema and hoping he will be sleeping tonight as he is seeing The Woman In Black', but it will be fine and at the end of it husband will cook me a romantic Valentine's meal which hopefully will just be for the two of us, but in reality could be catering for up to six - I really do love half term.

The Different Stages Of Teething

This morning my youngest came into my bedroom really excited that he had something important to tell me, and once I had managed to open my eyes and reach a relative conscious state of being I could see that his finger was stuck in his mouth and he was proudly showing me his first wobbly tooth. By the time we got down to breakfast there was pain, he couldn't eat on one side of his mouth, and he was worried that the tooth would fall out in school and be lost, meaning no money from the tooth fairy. However as the movement was so minimal there was no chance of this happening for at leat 2 or 3 weeks so i was able to reassure him.

This is his second stage of 'teething'. I can clearly remember the first stage which started from around 6 months. There were red, rosy cheeks and again lots of fingers and fists stuffed into mouth. There had been a vast quantity of teething gel bought, and everytime there was a bad night, an unexplained temperature, a disgusting nappy or any grumpiness it was put down to teething. Whether or not this was actually the real reason will never be known but it made me feel better as a parent to have an answer for all ailments. Weeks of symptons would pass before the first tooth was spotted and it seemed forever before all 20 teeth had appeared.

Fast forward a few years and after all that effort, my son wants to lose those teeth! Now there are 20 to come out and even more to replace them! This will undoubtedly lead on to stage three where my eldest is currently suffering. A couple of years ago the dentist recommended him seeing an orthodontist as he had a few concerns and it transpired that two of his top teeth were growing sideways rather than down. As this can be genetic his brother was x-rayed and they both had the same problem. Each of them needed their milk teeth removed to allow the adult teeth to grow properly and they both continued to see the orthodntist until the day he said one was fine and didn't need any work. Five minutes later the second was told he would be starting treatment that afternoon/. Naturally this did not go down well. Over the past 18 months he has full braces fitted to top and then bottom teeth, regular six week check ups to have the wires tightened and now elastics to align the teeth. These are changed daily to ensure they are tight and my son believes also to keep the pain levels to a maximum!

So I go back to my youngest who I am convinced will also be needing orthodontic work, but thankfully not for a few years.  I do however worry that by the time I am finished with him I will be at an age when I have moved onto stage four myself, the losing and removing of all my teeth!  On the plus side, at least with dentures there will be no more fillings!

Obsessive Weather Disorder

Today my life went back to normal after a few days of hype, a bit of panic and a general sense of "Why do we always get it so wrong?"  I am sure that you will have guessed that I am talking about the recent snowfall.  I can only go by my own experiences and as a softie Southerner I know these are nothing compared to those living further North, however this feels like the perfect opportunity to talk about the British weather, and specifically the snow.

People have very different views about it.  Children of any age seem to love it with the beautiful, crisp, white, clean blanket they can attack with snowball fights, or use to build snowmen or sled on, but we adults have more of a love/hate relationship.

Whilst it looks very pretty, however much notice is given the country NEVER seems prepared.  Gritters were out at midnight on Saturday night but the snow began falling at 6pm, and with the weather forecasters talking about it for at least a week before why didn't they get their act together sooner?

 Facebook was inundated with pictures of snowy gardens, which were pretty but why are they more special than a beautiful summer's day?  No-one ever puts up a picture to show the trees have blossom on them as spring begins, so why do we need to look at the snow when it makes every garden look the same?

As it got to the end of Sunday there was much excitement in my house as discussions began on whether there would be school the following day.  Needless to say my thoughts were not the same as those of my boys!  As it becomes colder at night any snow on the ground will not melt so I would think it sensible for schools to make a decision the evening before, but maybe they are waiting for something that parents do not know about?  The result is that the phone rang on Monday morning just after I had woken the boys up and got up myself.  Don't they understand that either parents need to ensure children are old enough or have provision to be looked after if they are working, or perhaps they are just lazy and would have enjoyed a Monday morning with a lie in?  You will be pleased to know my eldest (Duvet Boy) was able to go back to bed and sleep until midday.

This morning there was only some slush left, and this had disappeared by the afternoon which means the wellies have now gone away, but I still don't understand our obsession with the snow and all things meteorlogical.  For days everyone talked about the impending snow, when it would arrive, how long it would last, how deep it would be, how much disruption it would cause, etc, etc.  This had followed on from how mild it had been and how early the daffodils have come out, and I guarantee that within a few weeks you will read or see that this summer we will have a heatwave and we will soon be obsessing about that.