Sunday 6 September 2015

Siblings

So I happen to know that comments are made and eyebrows are raised when the issue of how many children I have comes up. Mainly because number 2 of the four has autism, and I do not deny that he alone is very hard work. Hard enough that sometimes, I struggle to cope. So I understand when people question our decision (rarely to my face but that's another story) to keep going when we knew that life would be difficult. Sometimes, when they're pretty much killing each other and wrecking the house, i question myself! But let me explain.
Firstly, we were originally told that there was nothing wrong with Luca. He just needed 6 months of speech therapy and would be fine. Almost a year later, we went back to that same clinic (having had none of the speech therapy he apparently needed in order to be "fine") with our newborn daughter in my arms, to be told that actually, he would never be fine. Roman, as my close family and friends know, was a BIG surprise. But by the time he came along, I had realised something. Having siblings was helping Luca. His older brother kept him in check. If he was having an extreme meltdown, Jack could often coax him out of it. As Bella learned words and phrases, Luca began using them also. He learned how to be gentle(ish) while cuddling his baby sister, too rough and she'd squawk, and nobody likes that noise! And Luca was teaching them things, too. How to be patient, tolerant, understanding. How to concentrate on a task when all hell is breaking out right next to you (believe me my children are unflappable in loud situations, an excellent skill for their cv when the time comes)
So yes, my life is hard and sometimes I cry, sometimes I wonder what on earth possessed me to bring all these children in to the world. But mainly I'm in awe of how they all enrich each others lives, and how they've developed and grown.
Little moments make it all worthwhile. Like a few days ago when I suddenly realised it was far too quiet, an ominous sign. I went upstairs and had the pleasure of witnessing Roman and Luca playing together, Roman showing Luca how to actually play with the cars rather than just lining them up. And both of them were just enjoying the moment, engrossed in putting out the fire by the chest of drawers, totally not noticing their mother having a little blub on the landing.
Who wouldn't want that for their children, no matter how hard it is all the rest of the time.

Friday 31 July 2015

Another year older...

There's a birthday coming in our house!

Luca is turning 10. His birthday is a funny old day. He gets excited, I think. It's hard to tell, but he does start asking if it's his birthday soon several times a day in the days leading up to it, then on the day he starts off well, but the over stimulation soon gets to him and he becomes very upset and grumpy.

It's a hard day for me, too. Physically he's another year older. In his mind, well, nothing really changes. And this time 10 years ago I was eagerly awaiting the birth of my baby, another little boy who would be best friends with his big brother, play football with him, fight over toys and computer games and be friends for life. Now, instead of worrying about them getting drunk together or sneaking out to meet girls, I find myself wondering whether his big brother will be his carer once me and his dad are no longer able. This is something I just need to learn to accept and stop stressing about, I think. I can't change it, I just have to wait and see.

Presents, too, presents are an issue! I don't even know what your average 10 year old would be in to these days. Luca wouldn't know, either! He asks for the same things every year. Peppa pig DVD, and Mario kart on the ds. They're learned responses, but we still get those items for him, because it's all he has asked for. Then we buy him things we think he will like, that he can't eat or pull apart, preferably. This year, among other things, he'll be unwrapping sellotape and glue sticks, because sticking and gluing is his favourite thing! Don't get me wrong I'm happy to buy him anything that will make him smile, it just makes me sad when I'm looking at toys aimed at babies instead of bikes or skateboards or the latest computer game.

He'll have a little party, of course. But he doesn't have any friends to invite. But that's ok, he has lots of family to celebrate with. And true to tradition, he has a Mr Men cake. Shop bought, this time!

I really should be thanking my lucky stars. He's here, he's healthy, and he gets to celebrate his birthday. Many children don't, and I wouldn't change my Lu, not for all the tea in China. Maybe wallowing and feeling sorry for myself is selfish and silly of me. Coming to terms with Lucas disability is something that will take a lifetime. I don't know if that's wrong or right, I just know that for me, personally, I cannot embrace a condition that stole my child away from me. I can only regret that he wasn't helped sooner, and that his long term prognosis is not what it could have been, had he been picked up at 2, rather than 5. I love Luca, I love the sound of his laughter, I love the way he sleeps, I love his cuddles, I love all the little snippets we see of his personality, his sense of humour, his creative flair. And I do love celebrating his birthday, no matter how hard it is.

I just wish things could be different.

Tuesday 21 July 2015

Holiday blues

Well hi.

It's been a long, long time since my last blog. Things have happened. Some nice, some not so nice.
Essentially, other than the children being bigger, funnier, more amazing, more frustrating, things are pretty much the same. I still try (and mostly fail) to bake. I still try (and mostly fail) to eat well, exercise and take care of my health, both mental and physical. I laugh about pretty much everything, because if you don't laugh you'll cry, right?

But today, today I decided to blog because I read something that cut me to the bone. It wasn't in any way aimed at me, but it upset me to the point that I've laid awake all night pondering, and if I don't get it out I'll explode, so here I am.
It begins with a Facebook status. One mother, who had noticed that already, when it's only day 1 of the summer holidays, mums are moaning about their kids. There followed after this, a conversation whereby those who moan about the holidays are deemed to be unfit parents, who probably should never have had children in the first place if they can't be bothered to make the holidays fun.
I didn't just cry over this. I sobbed. I am one of “those" mothers.
I don't mean to be. I love my children unconditionally, with every fibre of my being. But school holidays for me, are not fun. They're horrific. We become captives in our own home, unable to venture further than the garden. Autism keeps us all prisoner. We can't all jump in the car and go hunting for the gruffalo, or digging for treasure at the beach. We can't go to the park. We can't ride our bikes to the shop and buy ice cream. We can't take a picnic to the woods and have rounders tournaments and rolling down a hill competitions.
Basically, the things I dreamed of, when I had my babies, the promise of long summer days filled with fun and laughter, they were taken away from me. From all of us.
Our reality is getting through 6 weeks of changed routine, of bored children desperate for my attention, of trying to come up with things we can do at home and convincing my “normal" children that this is JUST as fun as the things their friends are doing. They're getting too old to be fooled. Luca is getting too big, too strong and too clever to be contained. So on top of feeling like the worlds worst mother, I become the worlds worst housekeeper, my house is trashed. And yes, I know, “I'm rocking my baby" and all the other “it's OK to have an untidy house" poems and memes can be posted all over Facebook. But that doesn't change the fact that clothes need to be washed, plates need to be cleaned, food needs to be prepared. Pee and poo needs to be removed from the bathroom walls, the nutella all over the bed covers? Well that can't be left, either. It takes 20 seconds of turning my back to create a mess that will take 30 minutes to clean. And in that 30 minutes, 50 more messes will be made.

I can laugh and joke about it, I'll spin it and try to see the funny side, but under the surface I'm stressed, overwhelmed, and increasingly anxious. What if my children grow up hating me and resenting Luca, because our lives revolved around everything he was unable to do? What if social services knock on my door, see the mess and decree I am indeed a crap mother who doesn't deserve to have my children?

I mean, I could jump in with both feet and say that the mothers who are out every day doing amazing things, and making scrapbooks to take in to school come September to show everyone what wonderful memories they've made, are clueless, and smug. But I wouldn't say that. I say you're lucky. Lucky that fun is possible. Lucky that while you may have the odd day of whining or arguing and proclamations of how boring this all is, for the most part, you'll be loving the time together and thinking it's going far too quickly.

I just have 1 request. Don't judge others based on what you are able to do. Making me unable to express how tired, or stressed, or overwhelmed I feel, denies me of the opportunity to hear other mothers say “me too" or “hang in there, not long now" so that I know I'm not alone. In short, you make the not so “good" mothers feel even more isolated.

Believe me, we feel rubbish enough as it is.

Thursday 18 April 2013

There's treasure at the end of the rainbow...

...AND I CAN SEE IT!!!

Sorry, it's another one of "those" posts.
I'm happy, like properly and completely happy, for the first time in years. No medication, no counselling, no needing to hide myself away in the bathroom while Lee's at work because the house is a mess and the kids are crying and I can't cope with it. The house IS still a mess, and the kids ARE still crying, the difference is, I don't see it as an insurmountable mountain. It's just something that happens when you've got 4 kids and you're not a domestic goddess.
The truth is, I honestly didn't realise just how bad things were until I felt better. I'm almost certain this complete shift is due to the fact that i've totally changed my diet. High protein, low carbs, lots and lots of water, and green tea with lemon, such a treat! I've lost a stone, just another stone and a half to go before I'm at my goal weight. My back doesn't hurt, my knees and feet aren't sore all the time, my stomach, while not what you could call flat, doesn't look 6 months pregnant any more. My hands and feet don't swell up at the end of the day. My blood pressure is lower, my kidney function has improved and I just feel normal.  I couldn't remember what normal felt like!
I feel free to enjoy all the things that I should have been enjoying but couldn't. Like Roman taking his first steps, which had me squealing and crying like a baby in equal measure, while at the same time making a mental note to put up ANYTHING that I don't want broken. Mind you, he's still the size of an average 4 month old, so there's not much he can reach, really.
I can enjoy Bella informing me that when she grows up, she's going to be a "petshopper" and she'll have dogs and cats and snakes and hamsters in her petshop, and she'll take all the animals to their new houses because she'll be "the petshopper with the car!" (I especially enjoyed that!)
I can watch Luca just being Luca, without feeling the need to explain to random strangers why he's behaving that way. He's behaving that way because that's who he is and that's what he does, end of story.
I can have a laugh with Jack, and talk to him about things he enjoys, and take a genuine interest rather than going through the motions (trust me, kids know the difference!) and I can be excited about him starting secondary school, rather than just scared.
I can let go of the outrage I've been feeling toward certain people, who decided I was attention seeking or being a mentalist or a bad friend or moaning about nothing or whatever it is they thought of me. As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss, and if they are the type of people to think "she's gone fucking weird, I can't be bothered with it, I'll just delete her and laugh about her with my mates" then I don't want them in my life anyway. If you don't have the compassion and...errrrmmm....I dunno, niceness? Is that a word? Anyway, if you don't have the notion to pick up the phone or knock on the door or send a message, or even maybe speak to someone else close to that person to say yo! Dude! You seem a bit off. I've seen/heard things that are out of character. You don't seem to be the same person I knew x years/months ago. What's up? and offer your support to them, then you're not my kind of person. I can count on one hand the people that have really, truly and genuinely been there and I will love them forever for that.

I'm even starting to turn my thoughts to baking again. Don't get me wrong, i'll still suck at it, and it'll still be a major success if whatever I make is even edible, but I'm sure I'll have loads of fun trying! It's Bella's birthday coming up, and I'll be attempting a cake for her. probably with aunt bessie's help, and maybe dr oetger, but whatever, the thought's there! I've been spending a lot of time in the kitchen lately, due to the fact that this new diet requires fresh, home cooked meals so's you know exactly what you're putting in to your body, and I have to say that I've been doing a lot better with it than the baking! I don't really miss anything (other than chocolate) and I enjoy experimenting with different meats, spices etc to make nice tasting meals.

I'm also working on my book, which is loads of fun. I don't even care if it's rubbish and nobody ever reads it other than me, although a Stephenie Meyer kind of success wouldn't be entirely unwelcome if I'm honest! I'm only a chapter in but looking forward to seeing where the story goes.

Just a little thought to finish up on, that son of mine, who's a little bit different? Well, he's developed a new skill. Strip trampolining. It'll be all the rage one of these days, you mark my words.



Tuesday 19 March 2013

big boy bedrooms, burning schools, feeling better

Oh, happy day!
Today is Tuesday. Roman has been sleeping in his bedroom since Saturday night. No cot in my bedroom (that never got used) no being squashed with a snoring sweaty man on one side and a snoring sweaty boy on the other. My boobs are my own and I can lie on my stomach with out being slapped and whined at until I roll over to allow access (and Roman is cutting out the night feeds too!) My bedroom looks massive without the cot in it, and I must say, I'm loving being able to go up to bed to read with the lamp on, should I so desire. I'm loving the hours of solid undisturbed sleep.
I'm not loving the fact that it's the end of an era, and my days as the mother of a tiny baby have come to an end. I'll never again watch in wonder as my stomach grows, never look forward to seeing my baby for the first time at a scan. I'll never get to argue over names, plan a nursery, pick a pram, pack a hospital bag, place bets on whether my bump is blue or pink, what day the baby will arrive, what he or she will weigh. I'll never get to hold my precious newborn in my arms, smell their newborn smell, welcome them to the world and tell them how much I love them and how precious they are to me.
I know there are people who will think that's mad, I've got 4 beautiful babies and pregnancy nigh on kills me every time. I'd be lying if I said I'm not relieved that i'll never have to go through the high blood pressure, failing kidneys, dodgy liver, itching, diabetes and who knows what else would probably get thrown at me next time, so from that point of view, yes, having no more babies is most definitely the right thing. Not to mention i'd probably lose my marbles if we added another small person to our brood! I guess I'll just make the most of friends new babies for now, until such time as I'm presented with a grandchild. Not for at least 20 years though hopefully!

The best part about actually getting some sleep is that it's done wonders for my mood. I've not had a panic attack, I'm not as tearful, I have energy to actually get up and do things which automatically puts me in a better mood. That's the problem with depression, it's a cycle. You feel horrible, have no energy and don't want to do anything. Not doing anything makes you feel horrible, have no energy and not want to do anything, so you become even more depressed. See where I'm going with this? No amount of being told to snap out of it, or (as i've experienced) public humiliation, "friends" outing you on facebook for moaning too much and making you feel a million times worse, or husbands getting frustrated because they don't understand what it is you're trying to tell them, or whoever it is that's involved with your life but can't figure out what the hell is wrong, none of it is enough to  make you just get up and do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing in order for people to think you're "normal" if there is such a thing. So for me, getting a bit more sleep, and having enough energy to sweep the floors, cook a proper dinner and tackle the washing pile is enough to lift my spirits and enable me to start helping myself to get better. How refreshing. I think I'm pretty good at hiding my depression from people who I don't want to worry with it. That's probably not always a good thing, I tend to hide it from the people who could actually help me, but I feel embarrassed and like they'll think I'm a failure. Poor Husband bares the brunt of it instead. So here's hoping that this new found good mood continues! This is also the perfect time to get cracking with the diet (again) so slimming world is gaining a new member (again) I hope to be considerably slimmer by the summer.

The biggest excitement of the week, would have to be Lucas school burning down! The hall and drama studio are completely gone. We had a good sniff of Luca when he arrived home, and the good news is he didn't smell of smoke, so I'm fairly confident he had nothing to do with it. I asked him if he saw the fire, he said yes. But then I asked him if he put out the fire himself and he said yes, so he's not really an entirely reliable witness. I have it on good authority that he was nowhere near the fire or the hoses, his account will not hold up in court. He's been off since Friday, and let me tell you for a child with autism, this sudden and unexpected change in routine never goes down well! He hasn't been too bad, if you don't count eating us out of house and home, being extremely stimmy, having major laughing fits and major tantrums. The school called today, children can go back tomorrow if the parents want, but they have no heating, no hot water, and no kitchen for school dinners.

Therefore, I've sorted a thermal vest, a packed lunch and a flask. Bad mummy, moi? Noooo.....

                                                        The newest bedroom in the house

Thursday 7 March 2013

It's been a long time...

...Since my last blog. My laptop died. My soul died, a little bit, and life in general has got in the way.

Would you believe me if I said I was very, very sorry? No? O.K, moving swiftly on...

Where to begin!! Roman turned one, a bittersweet day. I had to celebrate the fact that my last ever baby has been here for a whole year, while at the same time still trying to come to terms with the whole horrific saga that was my pregnancy, the birth, and the awful few months that came after, where I couldn't enjoy my baby  because I was in too much pain, and he cried all the time. Nevertheless the day went very nicely, he loved opening his presents (or watching them be opened by his "helpful" brothers and sister) he loved the attention, he....slept through the blowing out of candles and cutting of cake. Luca stood in for him and did a fantastic job. I was truly overwhelmed by how many people wished him a Happy Birthday, sent him cards and presents, or even quick texts to say they hoped he was having a lovely day. It's nice to know he's loved. Most people turned up to his little party and all (I hope!) had a really lovely time.  I didn't actually make his cake, I've lost all confidence in that department, but I did decorate it for him and was more or less happy with the results! He seemed to like cramming it in to his greedy little chops so it obviously hit the spot!

On top of Birthday celebrations, there has been some major dramas, sadly all centered around me and my ridiculously fragile state of mind. One person, who shall remain nameless, very helpfully dubbed me "the undiagnosed clinically insane" on his facebook status. Totally untrue of course, I have been diagnosed, and not with clinical insanity! It's depression, post natal depression, and post traumatic stress disorder, and for whatever reason it's hit me like a ton of bricks just recently. So bad that simple things, like talking and smiling and driving further than the  school run have been beyond me at times. Hell, even the school run has left me in a state of tearful panic! And much to the annoyance of those who like to talk, no, I don't have reason to feel that way and no, I can't explain why. It's just the way it is, and nobody wishes more than I do that I wasn't this way, it's crippling and miserable and embarrassing and sometimes it feels like it will never end. The final straw was half term, where being home alone with the kids was truly torture and I felt like I was failing. Failing as a wife, failing as a mother, failing as a human being in general, really. Lee tries his best, but he has to work or he won't get paid, and I doubt his boss would be massively sympathetic, to be honest. So he's borne the brunt of an awful lot of tears and tantrums. And he's still here, so he must love me. I'm very lucky to have some truly amazing friends, who listen when I talk, accept me for the nutjob I am, and encourage me to laugh at myself when I'm being particularly crazy. It helps that most of them are just as crazy, in their own special ways. There must be something in the water around here. I've also learned recently, that no matter how nice you try to be to some people, however much you listen to them whine and complain, and offer your sympathy and your help, they are simply not interested in being friends. Even when you've tried to explain why you've been the way you've been and apologised for causing any kind of offense. And that's fine. I'm done trying.

Phew! I could go on for hours about how rubbish I am these days, but I won't bore you. Lets just say I won't be expecting mothers day cards this year!

In other ways, life is simply fantastic. Roman is crawling and cruising and learning that being on the floor playing is often more fun than being sat on mummys lap. Just as long as she's not doing anything silly, like leaving the room! He's learning every day, he says words and plays with his toys and dances, and all those other amazing things that babies on the verge of being toddlers do. And I try very hard to watch and appreciate. He is my last, after all.
Jack has been accepted in to his senior school of choice for September (sob) I cannot believe he'll be 11 soon, although he is already a teenager, he grunts instead of speaking, barely leaves his room, wouldn't wash EVER if I didn't force him, and I'm pretty sure he's forgotten what sunlight actually looks like! Poor boy is in for a shock when he starts senior school, and his homework encroaches on his minecraft time!
Luca is doing well, we've had a few blips with his behaviour and sleeping and the never ending saga that is the councils idea of school transport, but he seems to be settling back in to a bit of a routine now, thank the lord.
Isabella is her usual crazy self. She's taken up horse riding, many thanks to my lovely friend who has let her have access to a pony, cos we'd never afford lessons! She's loving it, you'd never think a child could be so excited about picking up poo, but Bella seems to think its the most fun ever! And I'm hoping it'll teach her some self discipline, as she's due to start infant school in September (again, sob!!) and is still prone to the odd arm folding, foot stamping tantrum!
On the cooking and book writing front, it's all come to a stop! The book because my laptop died. My daddy has very kindly donated one to us, which i've fixed up and its lovely, so writing will resume with gusto. It's like therapy for me. Only cheaper. The baking has really taken a backseat as i've been so busy concentrating on not falling apart in every other aspect of my life, but I am still very interested and hope to dust off my pinny as soon as possible.
For now, I'll love you and leave you, mainly because a small monster has just crawled past me on his way to the toybox, and a very unpleasant odour seems to be following him!!

Wednesday 14 November 2012

sleep, lack of sleep, moods due to lack of sleep!

Good morning readers! Well it's morning, which means I have survived another night, which is good enough for me.
It's been a long time since I've blogged. Not because I haven't wanted to or because I decided I couldn't be bothered any more or anything. Oh no, it was much worse than that. We suffered the horror of broken laptop! Let me assure you, this was serious. No youtube or cbeebies for Luca, no blogging for me, and I lost the first few chapters of my book! There were tears and tantrums, and Luca didn't take it too well either. Luckily my cousins husband is a computer whizz, he has retrieved everything from our own laptop, and has lent us one to use so that normal life can resume. Phew!
So first things first, I need to offload.  This lack of sleep is killing me. It's not just Roman, restlessly smacking and pinching me all night, shrieking like he's being murdered if I turn away from him and deny him access to his milk source (that it comes from a part of my body with nerve endings is irrelevant to him) and it's not just Luca, awaking at anything from 3-5am and running up and down screaming until the rest of the house admits defeat and rises with him. No, on top of these things, which I have long been used to and have accepted as a part of life, my brain has now decided to turn me against, well, me. Even during the hours where my offspring are dreaming, I'm lying there awake and thinking.
Am I a good enough mother (no, you're not)
Is my house really that much of a mess? (yes, it is)
Do we have enough money to pay all the bills and still treat the kids at Christmas (possibly, but they'll not get everything they might have asked for. Oh, how disappointed they will be)
Is Roman autistic, like Luca is? (yes, he is. No, of course he's not. But what if he is? What then?)
Does my husband love me? (No, he's biding his time and will leave you just as soon as he can)
Do my friends even like me? (No)
Is Isabella really clever, or just an out and out brat? (the latter, probably)
Will Jack be ok at secondary school? Did i make the right choice applying to that one? (no, its a horrible school full of bullies and a rubbish head teacher)
And on and on it goes. Until I finally fall in to an exhausted sleep, only to wake with a start because I heard a noise, which could only be aliens coming to kidnap me for experiments. So then the cycle starts over.
By the time morning comes I'm too tired to even be able to cry properly, so all I can manage is a few dry eyed sob type whimpers, before throwing on mismatching pyjamas and haphazardly going about all the things that need doing before the school run.
Then the guilt sets in. Compared to some people I know, my life is a piece of cake. How dare I lie here, wallowing in self pity when some people have real problems! I look at my daughter sitting on the rug colouring in her sparkly ponies colouring book, I look at my baby, in his highchair, waving at the TV with cheerios stuck to his chin and think about my 2 big boys, off being clever and doing well at school, think about my husband, who knows everything there is to know about me (some of it as un-pretty as it gets) and still he's here with kind words and cuddles, and of course he loves me, why on earth would he still be here if he didn't. So I'm one of the lucky ones! Why don't I feel lucky? Surely raising my children, looking after our home, cooking dinner, it shouldn't feel like such hard work, should it? Who knows. I'm in therapy, hopefully it'll fix my faulty brain wires!
The upshot of this lack of sleep is that I am one moody cow! Things that on a normal day would go over my head, become a huge deal. One woman got the sharp edge of my tongue yesterday (well keyboard but whatever) Twice. And it was mainly because I was too tired and emotional to deal with her crap in the way I normally would, by ignoring it. Oh well. Lee and the kids have a tendency to tip toe around me, which only succeeds in annoying me further, but being noisy annoys me further still, so they can't win!
One day I'll get a decent nights sleep, and the world will be a friendly place again. If we haven't all been stolen by aliens by then, of course.
Lots more has been going on since my last blog, dear readers, I'm trying to think! It was my birthday and I was spoiled rotten by Lee and the family. That was nice. We also went out, just the 2 of us, for the first time in I don't even know how long. I only had a couple of mojitos and a beer but was quite tipsy, and the food was amazing. I'd like to do it once a month (babysitters please apply here)
Roman has a tooth! My nipple knows alllll about that. He is also trying to crawl, eating anything you put in front of him, as well as mashing it in to his hair, and has developed a severe case of separation anxiety, resulting in me taking him everywhere with me to avoid the screaming. His favourite place to be is the bathroom, I think he likes the echo! Luca had the starring role in his class performance at the harvest festival. He sung 5 currant buns, on the microphone, while dressed in a chefs hat and apron. Cute overload, and of course I cried.
we've begun the long, slow task of getting the house back in order after building our extension. It's gonna take a while!! I have a new rug and curtains in the living room which i'm very happy about (yes I know that's quite sad) I've started bootcamp, basically 3 nights a week I stand in a carpark in basildon (yes, in the dark, wind, and rain) killing myself with exercise, along with 10 or so other woman. I will get slim if it kills me. I am now in constant pain from muscles I had forgotten existed.
So on that note, I shall leave you. And I promise you, next time I will have found a better mood, and normal service will resume!