Legally Blonde

they both swam brilliantly this evening … Jack getting a lot more confident and interested, spluttering less, grinning and kicking all the time, and Benjamin had his – wait for it, drum roll please – 50 m badge yes that’s right my brilliant boy did two whole lengths unaided. I am so proud of them.

Yeah, I know, no update for ages, no apologies, tired busy mummy, it says so on the tin! Bursting with wanting to tell everyone tonight though!

I had been going to blog about how lovelly it is now my baby is sleeping longer, but I fear that may have jinxed it!

Over the last week or so I have brought his night feed earlier, until for two nights running he dropped it altogether. 7-7 at 6 months? yay. we have our evenings back, and even the toughest things seem so much more manageable when sleep deprivation is taken out of the equation!

Misplaced optimism, I’m afraid – last night he was up at midnight, 3 and half past 5. This morning he’s a brilliant bouncing giggling growing baby, and I’m one tired mummy!

Been on a little wander down memory lane. I wanted to find a link I thought I posted just before Benjamin was born, and got sidetracked trawling through the archive. Posts from 8th December (or the nearest, when I wasn’t blogging so regularly!)

5 years ago I love this from the Buy Nothing Christmas website: “Everything I wish for this Christmas is time. Time to spend with those I love, time to think, time to talk, time to read, time to laugh, time to be silent.” To which I would add, time to be with and thank God for the greatest gift of all, that of his Son as one of us.

4 years ago (strange coincidence, I’ve just done another of these!)

Random Five Dee tagged me, so in the spirit of the thing I’ll have a go. The trouble is, there’s probably very little random little-known information left, since I seem to spill most things on here.

Fact One: I’m allergic to Penicillin. It brings me out in huge bright red blotches that itch like crazy (I was going to use a much stronger word!). I discovered this on my twelfth birthday when I was going to the theatre in London’s West End and I barely remember the play, which was one I’d been longing to see, as I was concentrating on not causing too much disturbance wriggling and scratching, and spent most of the evening in Tears. Since then I’ve remembered to make a note of this Fact in Every diary, donor card, doctor or hospital questioning. Apparently it’s not that unusual.

Fact Two: I hate crowds. Not in a claustrophobic way, particularly, or disliking people, but the way they make me react. Part of it is A.S. and I have to live with it, and deal with things/people/situations etc as they come up, and learn the more “normal” (usual/appropriate) reactions. I speak before thinking, if I think at all, and become so scratchy irritable it’s not true. It makes me sound incredibly childish and rude (perhaps I’m that too?!). Anyone who’s coped with me in town on a Saturday or in Tesco of an evening will have some idea of this!

Fact Three: Long, long ago, it seems another lifetime, I fenced for London Schools and rode to C standard, as well as for University as an undergrad.

Fact Four: When I was engaged, I pictured me at thirty as married with two or three children, an Aga and a thriving small business run from home. Ha ha. God laughs at the best laid plans, and offers us Life instead! Thirty’s twenty months hence and I have not quite one of the above. But in a funny sort of way, I’m sure that’s not really what I’d’ve wanted if I’d had it. Having Benjamin, despite the circumstances, is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened.

Fact Five: I have a complete aversion to anything fake. Silk flowers set my teeth on edge and pretend Christmas trees make me feel like you do if you run your nails or a too-squeaky chalk down a blackboard. I really, really, really can’t take it. Of course, I have to, and learn to react less, or less overtly, but it’s not easy. Today in work I was asked to thread the lights etc round the “tree”. I was very nearly ill afterwards. Strange but true (and possibly also related to AS).

Five More Victims: Sarah, Wood, Pants, Nessa, Jo

3 years ago
Belated thanks to Em and Rhys for the stonking pre-Christmas sing and drink they laid on last thursday. B surprised us by staying up late without melt-down, in fact nearly stealing the show at one point as Rhys had shown him the keyboard and said he didn’t mind him pressing buttons. We were singing “See amid the winter snow” and in the second chorus B pressed some random rhythm buttons and we had to try to finish the carol over a soft rock sort of beat without corpsing – I failed, and sat in tears of laughter unable to sing on. B danced away clapping and flirting.

I was nervous of the first big singing get-together without Michael. It was sad, but not as difficult as I expected.

2 years ago I didn’t blog at all between October and January – these things do seem to be cyclical!

and last Christmas
So, um, news… facebookers among you may have picked up already but yes, next summer we three will be 4! A suitable end to the social services saga from earlier this year, and a lovely proper seal on the new family that getting married and getting D parental responsibility for B makes legal and official and everything due first week of June, so hopefully less complicated and clashing with major public holidays than B’s birthday (can you believe he’ll be 4 already?! no, nor me).

This year…?

B’s school concert this morning went really well. I took some pics on my phone but will have to see if they’ve come out ok. He was fab. At one point I thought he was having an attack of shyness and wobbling in the stage fright, but then realised the narrator was saying “he sat down on the ground, put the drum away and cried.” (My heart did go out to the angel from nursery who wept -really- for the duration!) there were times he forgot he had his drum though – it was sitting on the stage in front of him, and he was miming drumming on his knees! obviously thought he was still in practice mode. He was brilliant, marched and drummed, sung and spoke clearly, and even acted as self appointed prompt for one of the narrators! Miss Simons did say at the start, not just switch your phones to silent but your babies too, and Jack must’ve been listening, just giggling and chewing Nana. I’d enlisted mother in law to join me in case D had to work, but it was lovely that we were all able to be there in the end. B was beaming, bursting with pride and soo pleased to see Daddy there too.
One down, two to go.

A lovely mad busy happy family weekend.

Friday night we went straight from B’s swimming lesson to have a pub supper with friends of Dai’s who are just back from Australia – ambitious given the early start planned for Saturday.

Aiming to meet up at Carreg Cennen at 10, we should really have left Uplands before quarter to! Luckily some people were running almost as late as us, and we were able to catch up. D beeped the horn, and the back walkers looked round, thought they didn’t know us until a small blond stripey cannonball hurled itself out of the truck and towards their knees screaming Waaaaaiit! I ran after him, while D went to park and then catch up with us, with the baby in the rucksack on his back. He’d said he couldn’t come with us because of wanting to go for a run, and managed to combine the two! Distraction, encouragement and bribery in the sugar form helped B walk a lot further than last year; he only succumbed to the rescue car the third time he was offered a lift, with only quarter a mile left to Bethlehem where a much warmer chapel than last year greeted us. The packed lunches were gratefully wolfed down before a scrum ensued for the pews nearest the hot water pipes. The children became banderlog and took over the upstairs, noisily, the heavens opened, heavily, and we accepted a lift for the second half, gratefully.

After drying out and changing, we set off for Dai’s cousin’s engagement party, where I was the proverbial fish out of water. Usually D copes very well with my friends or church people etc, whereas I struggle with his family – they are friendly and welcoming but very close knit and very many of them, I am still trying to learn them all even after nearly 2 years of marriage. Add in extreme tiredness and I know I wasn’t at my best. Jack hadn’t met most of them before, and was tired too, so I retreated to an upstairs lounge for some peace to feed. I hope they didn’t find me too antisocial or rude. It was lovely to meet the fiancee properly, they do seem very happy, and catch up with the cousins, the children all had a scream until we eventually tackled them into pyjamas and home for a second late night running.

As Sunday was first of the month, it was a family service with the children staying in church, with an Advent theme. Sadly it seemed to be mostly about father christmas and computers (am I the only person in the world who hasn’t heard of, and misunderstood, “I would like to have a wee for Christmas”?) but again, the kids had a great time. Lunch (running characteristically late – we left 8 minutes for a 20 minute journey, and had to stop for diesel on the way!) was a housegroups’ Christmas party at Nicholaston House, a really beautifully situated retreat house above Oxwich bay. Forty of us sat down to a fabulous three course lunch, and they were so sweet and welcoming to the children – two high chairs and a benjamin, small cutlery, even a spare banana for the baby. Stunning views and lovely to chat to people from other housegroups. We had to leave before the speaker though – Benjamin’s such a little socialite we made tracks for the next party, a crowd of friendly 6 year old girls in Pennard puddle, he was in his element!

Tomorrow is Benjamin’s school concert – he is Toby the drummer boy, wearing his wedding waistcoat (which still fits if he doesn’t try doing it up) and banging his greenbelt drum. I’m still working on the roman soldier look for his role in the church play the following week.

Chaotic and busy but all good!

(Gosh that turned out lots longer than necessary, sorry, thanks for reading if you’re still here!)

Gosh, sorry, another month (at least) has slipped by without a word from family blonde. well, a lot’s been happening but I’ve very seldom had a chance even to open the computer, let alone put brain into gear enough to blog!

The main news is of course the arrival of baby Jack, 2 months ago – how quickly time goes with a new tiny person in the house! and he was tiny, weighing in at a mere 6 lb 13 oz, even smaller than Benjamin was born. Seems so long ago. Now he’s a smiling, growing, kicking, beautiful 9 lbs, 2 month old boy, and we are muddling along quite well. B is proud and gentle with him, and loves being a big Brother (most of the time!).

We’re beginning to find a routine between sleeping (almost 6 hours last night!) and feeding (first wimbledon then cricket has helped with the long afternoon feeds!), getting to know each other and how the new one fits into the family – all is going well.

Those of you on Facebook might have picked up on it and seen pics, but I realised I hadn’t said anything yet here, so belatedly trying to rectify that:

Benjamin has the busiest summer, he’s been enjoying scripture union’s “Showstoppers” holiday club this week, and is going to my parents’ for a week’s holiday next week, followed by a swimming school when he’s back. Dai is very busy with networking and expanding the commercial side – he leaves before 6 most mornings at the moment! I am looking forward to Greenbelt (particularly having missed it last year), my first adventure with both boys, and then Benjamin will be in full time school in September – gosh, where does the time go?!

Hopefully be back soon!

Last time I saw my midwife she asked when I’d booked the pool from. Ten days before the due date, as suggested by herself, I said. Oh,ok. Um. do you think you’d be able to bring it forward a week or so? she said.

So that’s exactly what we did. And we have spent the last week playing with it Husband is relieved to have an accurate idea of time needed to fill it, how to adjust temperature etc, and the emptying pump is the same as the one he used to use to empty his tanks in the old van, so he is quite happy and reassured. Benjamin and I are less worried about the technicalities and have just enjoyed floating about, trying different positions, having more space than in the bath (him) and feeling deliciously less heavy than usual (me). B is now less sad that he wasn’t born in a pool, now that he has at least had turns in it!

Even watching the accursed night garden (not my favourite) becomes bearable when it means lovely together time practising in the pool.

Now we’re up to the time when the pool would have been arriving; midwife still thinks we’ll meet him before another ten days are up, but since her warnings about moving everything up a week, I’m trying not to be impatient about it. Technically we could still have to the end of the month, or even 10 days into the next, before we need to worry about it if he hasn’t put in an appearance by then.

Patience has never been my strong point, though!

after far too long a break I finally had some time and effort to update and found that I couldn’t post! my dashboard had all changd again and there wasn’t any space or button to do writing at all anywhere. Thought maybe I’d been chucked out for not updating in so long, but then saw Jack’s entry about the snapped elastic bands so thought I’d try again. Heartily echoing her thanks for their replacement!!

We are all fine and well. there have been blogworthy comments, from Benjamin, Dai and others; there have been ups, downs, huge successes followed by great tragedy in the garden; there has been much tiredness. Mainly if there were things I wanted to post, I didn’t have time or tinternet at the time; some of it has not been postable. But hey.

David is back in the country after his last big lads’ trip before having to face reality of dadship, relaxed, refreshed, excited and terrified. Benjamin is swinging between “why can’t this baby pop out of your tummy NOW I want to meet it and love it and play with it?!” and “when this baby comes I won’t be your best big boy any more…” and I am trying to reassure him and love him and not baby him toooo much and involve him as far as is appropriate and all that…. juggling ,and trying to be all things to all men (or rather both,, soon to be all three, of my boys)

I had a little worry a couple of weeks ago (the last bank holiday, right in the middle of when D was away), when the health professionals decided I was “small for weeks”, ie only measuring about 30 when I was 36. To check I wasn’t losing fluid, or had a distressed (and therefore stopped growing!) babe for any other reason, I went in for monitoring; the reason the bump looks small is it dropped early, and he was already 3/5 engaged at not quite 36 weeks! Midwife suggested I bring pool booking forward at least a week, as she doesn’t expect us to last to term.

Excitement tinged with panic as the last few weeks have really been against the clock – but at last I am relaxed and confident again. Dai is home; the pool is all set up (including tried and tested; B wanted a turn – “why wasn’t I born in a swimming pool at home?” different circs in those days!); just add baby! the only question left is, will it be tonight? every night for the next fortnight!!

in which I spend an irritable morning fighting with both D and B, see my midwife, dump B in nursery to see my acupuncturist, feel much better, have supper all together at the in-laws’, take my irritable nasty self away from the bosom of the family to go to church – not that I feel like it at all but have also just noticed it is Holy Week rather than just the school holidays and that I should mark it somehow.

Not the best of frames of mind in which to take communion!

It’s an odd service – while still Lent, there is a festive feel. The acclamations and Gloria which have been omitted the last six weeks are used again, the priest and altar wear white and gold, it is a celebration. A celebration of the Passover, and the institution of the Last Supper. On usual Sunday mornings the words are familiar – it can be too easy to rattle them off without thinking too much. On Maundy Thursday it is all raw, new, Not familiar. The disciples are expecting a “normal” passover meal – and they get the new Covenant. A different Lamb entirely.

After Communion the whole feel of the service changes. The Choir sing Psalm 88 while the Vicar strips the altar to symbolise the soldiers’ stripping of Jesus after his arrest. All the church ornaments are packed up – the candles, the banners, the silver cross on the altar, the altar cloth itself – until there is just a bare wooden table, almost shocking in its nakedness (we are familiar with the “dressings” of a wealthy western church; I’m sure this wouldn’t be such a contrast in some southern hemisphere or persecuted churches).

The lights go out. From somewhere far away the Vicar reads a verse from the passage when Jesus is arrested, ending with, “and they ran away and deserted him.”

None of the usual sending out, dismissal, the Lord be with you – and also with you, “normal” church endings. Silence. Then pew doors bang, footsteps ring out, even the choir doesn’t process but scatters. everyone leaves by any door, no formal filing out, shake the vicar’s hand, say goodbye, just scatter in the darkness.

Powerful. shocking. Lonely. Desolate. Wonderful.

Finally I am a little tuned in and aware again, despite not having “done church” much – or at all really – this Lent.

I hope this strange peacefulness sees me through the next couple of days, so I can be a little more patient with the boys and keep sight of “real” Easter, rather than just the chocolate and chicks taught by school and nursery. I suppose they have their reasons for ducking the real story, but I don’t understand. Perhaps no-one wants to risk doing death with four year olds. Not just death, but torture, illegal trial, crucifixion – right in the middle of the “Why?” stage! A challenge, finding accurate, truthful but age-appropriate language…. yes, it is shocking, but should they be protected by a chocolate lie?? shouldn’t they instead have the opportunity to question, wide-eyed? Didn’t Jesus tell us that it is only by becoming childlike that we come to him?

Then again, we have the luxury of hindsight and know about the happy ending: and the family hot cross bun service tomorrow morning!

I’ve been getting awfully deep and meaningful recently, and looking at each new budding and opening outside as relevant. In a way it reminds me of the last couple of months B was on the inside, being Advent, full of expectation, hope, longing, the promise of a new world. This time round it is Spring; Lent is a different sort of preparation, and a lot has to be gone through before the new life the other side.

There are very different reactions around this impending new life, from my husband, my four year old, my friends and family who knew me in December ‘04 and those who have come to me more recently.  Life goes on in all its madness, and B thrives at school – his weird English privately educated square mummy never having heard of some of the apparently normal traditions of Welsh state primaries nevertheless doing her best to help him join in…

On Thursday, the end of term (Friday was INSET) Easter Bonnet Parade. I did my best with an old straw hat my father bought me when I was Benjamin’s age, a few frantic phone calls home and a trip to the craft shop for yellow tissue paper and the cake shop for chicks. It transpired that boys don’t do bonnets. The girls wore amazing creations on straw hats, while the boys were in baseball caps with a rabbit on the peak. Oops. B didn’t seem to mind or notice though, luckily, and enjoyed telling everyone who’d listen the difference between his daffs and jonquils:

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(Incidentally, I’m pleased with how well the tulips have come back! We planted them to come up in time for our wedding in March last year, and I hadn’t realised they were perennials rather than annuals. It is so cheerful looking out and being reminded of the red, gold and joy of it all despite the extreme gray and dampness of the day!)

While he has this bee in his bonnet (sorry) about all things garden, we have been busy planting courgettes, mange-tout and tomatoes in our new super-duper slug-proof block of flats, and beans in the veg patch. We also found a packet of sunflower seeds from last year; I don’t know if they have any hope of actually germinating but we had great fun potting them out anyway. It’s one way to use up a sunny Inset day! He has a fab book with ideas to make gardening and natural exploring etc accessible and fab for children, which suggested growing cress as hair for eggshells with faces:

Sometimes B is brilliantly optimistic, sweet and helpful, looking forward to being a big brother and coming up to my tummy with sweet messages for the new baby. Other times he is very wobbly indeed and wants still to be my baby. This week he will only eat if spoon fed, only drink from a spout cup and after we retrieved all his old nappies from the attic and washed and sorted them out, now he even wants to wear them again (fortunately far, far too small even to attempt indulging that one). We did have a friendly time in the baby’s room, doing some toddler yoga, reading some old books he’d chosen to give the baby and hanging pictures. It can be difficult to know how to acknowledge and reassure his wibbles without indulging too much regression. I keep telling him he’s still my boy and I love him and still will even when the baby comes, but he has his moments!

As does their father, but he is less easy to help, because we grown-ups tend not to be so honestly open, vocal and guileless about our feelings and worries, internalising them as disturbing dreams, health worries, unexplained rattiness… temptations, terrifying thoughts, doubts about the future, life changes… and inability to acknowledge, even to oneself, or address them… which seems to come full circle back to the Lenten musings.

As a (currently) full time wife and mother, there is the temptation (there it is again!) to say that I don’t work at the moment. In fact, I am working harder and longer at a more demanding and worthwhile job than I have ever tried before; but it has taken me a while to be able to acknowledge it. My attitude makes so much difference to how I feel about myself and my role – instead of being drummed down by constructive dismissal, being out of work and ashamed about not earning and sponging completely off my husband’s goodwill, I have come to realise that loving, serving and looking after my boys is one of the most important jobs going, and that now I have more time to put into trying to do it to the best of my ability…

Instead of being frustrated by how long my husband spends in front of Top Gear, I must be glad that he is able to relax and unwind at the end of a hard day’s work. It’s his version of my reading. I need to reread the praises of the Psalmist, “Oh God, you have searched me out and known me, you fashioned me in my mother’s womb,” etc, and consciously relate them to the babe, already with his own relationship with his Maker, and be thankful I am an instrument in our small part of the Creation. Instead of feeling fat and tired I must enjoy my changing shape – taking time out for yoga and meditation, or resting up instead of beating myself up with a guilt stick about the housework etc, is all part of nurturing my growing babe even before we meet, and preparing ourselves to welcome him.

Oh, and talking of whom, I haven’t introduced him here, have I? I was holding off putting anything online until my nearest and dearest (my mother at least!) had seen the originals, but here is new baby boy Sullivan, taking after his father (all leg, and camera shy!):

(oh bother, the disc won’t load properly tonight, isn’t that typical?! another time perhaps… )

(gah. you can tell how untechy I am. I think one of the reasons I blog so little these days is I haven’t yet learned the new new dashboard. hmmph.) (nope, wrong attitude – back to positive blonde! I blog less because I waste less time constantly in front of the screen…!)