Monday's child

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath Day,
Is fair and wise and good and gay.

I was a Thursday's child so not sure that I'm 100% behind this peom. Although, looking at socio-economic background, I suppose I have gone far compared with my parents. I suppose some people would consider having four children as having gone too far so perhaps... Lol.

I was thinking about this little peom this morning as E was on another of her irritable hours and it struck me that she was born on a Wednesday haha! It did lead me to think some more though about expectations and stereotypes that we inadvertently impose on our children. There are things that we put on our children ourselves. For example, I caught myself saying to J the other day "when you go to university" without really thinking about it. It wasn't until later that it occurred to me that he may not want to go to uni. I'm certain that he has the capabilities but he is very much like me and I don't think that I'd have opted to go to university when I was 18, even if I'd had a more stable childhood and had the opportunity. What is the impact of these passing comments and imposed expectations? Will he automatically assume that he's going to uni, or could it possibly make him suffer should he decide he doesn't want to? Will he be afraid of disappointing us, and would we even be disappointed? It's a scary thought how much we can influence our children by passing comments but I think what scares me the most is the inability to know how much we're influencing them and what exactly the impact of that influence will be.

And then there's expectations and decisions based purely on gender. I was going through my airing cupboard earlier and came across J's old Toy Story bedding (Buzz Lightyear themed) and threw it aside for storage. I had in mind that it may come in useful again if we ever foster another boy. All this going through my mind and it never occurred to me to offer them to Sophie or Mae despite them both loving the Toy Story films - they were boys' bedding... This sort of gender expectation has been rattling round in my mind on and off for a few months, ever since reading about Gender Neutral Parenting a while back. What I've read has raised some interesting thoughts regarding stereotypes and their impact. I personally think that GNP is pretty scary tbh but it has made me think.

Going back to the poem, apparently M will work hard for a living. Bit of a shame for her really as she missed being fair, wise, good and gay by about 20 minutes, just think, if I'd held on for a few more minutes, she'd be GOOD! Damn! S is also full of woe (tell me something I don't know lol), and J is lucky enough to have been born on the Sabbath (wonder when that's gonna kick in?).

I know it's just a bit of fun but it's definitely food for thought!

So it's back to school tomorrow.

This summer has been pretty mundane if I'm being honest. We had a few highlights - camping was one. It was a really good trip but was only for three nights. Then we went to London for dinner, show and hotel which was lovely but again, just one night.

I have loved having the kids around. Although it has to be said that I am becoming more and more convinced that my eldest is becoming more and more suicidal (his goading of me and appalling attitude is just far too frequent to be a natural progression of adolescence) so that's something to watch out for.

E has continued her general routine of being poorly and thus poor sleep, well for a few days (good sleep), then teething (poor sleep), then well for a few days (good sleep), then poorly again... And so the cycle continues. She's on the cusp of walking and I think that too may be messing with her sleep. I do wonder if perhaps the leaking shower from above her room has something to do with her getting poorly so often - there's a constant wet patch on her ceiling and it smells very damp in there. We redid the sealant yesterday but it remains to be seen if this has had an impact on her health.

S had brought a whole new depth and meaning to that old line from the Oxo (or was it Bisto?) advert of days gone by: "My mummy says, when I grow up I'm going to be a proper little madam!". She has sported such lines as "you just sprayed water all over me you moron" and "no Daddy, I'm not pants, just the boss" when hubby dared call her "bossy pants". She has this poise about her that just speaks volumes. Words fail me when trying to illustrate that for anyone who may read this - I think the quote above just sums it up! It's funny. I've never been particularly girlie and yet my eldest daughter is very much so - definitely a girlie girl. I can see her becoming very catty too so will have to keep an eye out!

M is just M. I think it's the age but she is such fun right now. Some of the things she comes out with just crack me up and she epitomizes the whole concept of "cheeky"! She's got this big round face that just reiterates her whole character and she is so entertaining. She is learning new ways every day of winding her older sister up and that is infuriating. Poor S can't seem to ignore her and M takes full advantage. I'm very curious as to how E will fit into the dynamics of this little duo when she's old enough.

So as from tomorrow we have normal life restored and routine will once again have a place in this house. Part of me has longed for this day but a larger part is saddened that it is so close.

The picture of motherhood

I've been feeling down lately. I'm just that sort. I go through phases of joy, phases of contentment, phases of mundane daily life and phases of blugh. Lately has been the latter.

Life is just hard. It's generally fulfilling and joyous and so rewarding too but it's HARD. We've been having a few tough nights lately and I think that's when the impact and responsibility of motherhood hits home the hardest. There's no letup, no respite and no clocking off. I am "Mum(my)" literally 24/7. I don't get to leave the office, and there are no holidays for the stay at home mum.

It seems like every moment of my life is consumed with demands. Demands for food. Demands for comfort and demands of my time, my oh so limited time. Being the parent of a teenager also means there are further demands - demands on the car, and demands on my purse! On top of all this I'm trying to retain a sense of who I am and what I want to do and maintain for myself. I've then got to figure out little slots to put into my marriage and my sex life to keep things sweet between me and the other half. And then there's the weight loss. I need to lose FIVE STONE. It sounds like such a huge amount of weight - probably because it is! My mantra with so many things in life has been "if she can do it, so can I" but I just don't know anymore - can I really? Do I have it in me? Is life just going to get the better of me?

And then of course there's the guilt. I was watching a show the other day and a woman on there talked about the day that her husband and her three year old and her ten week old got killed in a RTA. The programme had me balling my eyes out and I turned it off with a solemn vow to stop moaning and just be GRATEFUL! So why do I still spend my sleepless nights crying about how little sleep I'm getting and how much my head will hurt the following day? Why am I not cherishing every moment with my ten month old? Must try harder!!!

All this is circulating through my head this morning. I so did not want to leave my bed but the husband had to leave for work and once again E was crying for me, sometimes there's nothing else for it, she just needs her mummy! So begrudgingly I waddled downstairs in a haze of resentment and sleep deprived fogginess and lifted the crying babe into my arms. I sat down and nursed her to sooth her cries. She looked at me with such love and I couldn't help but succumb to the pang of guilt over my selfishness. She relaxed so much that she finally gave way to her overtired self and fell asleep. I sat there for a while just looking at her, taking her in and enjoying my child. I then stood up to put her to bed.

At that moment, just as I stood, I caught our reflection in the newly placed large mirror in our lounge. And there was my answer. In that tiny pocket of time, everything stood still and I saw for the first time ever my role in life so clearly defined that it took my breath away. My youngest child, still at my breast. Me with my crazy bed hair and mis-match pajamas holding her to me - the beauty of the image... I am mother, and I am blessed and I am so very grateful!

Life isn't perfect, and yes it's HARD. But just because it's hard, doesn't mean it's not worth doing. I've come out the other side of that little epiphany and am left feeling a little more grounded. I just hope that I can call that image back to memory whenever I next feel like running from the house kicking and screaming!

Bum fluff

So, lets get down to the nitty gritty of bum fluff - and I'm not talking about the not-quite-as-fine-as-it-used-to-be hair growing from a pubescent boy's face either! Today I'm talking cloth nappies.

I'm curious. Cloth nappies work out cheaper. They are better for the enviroment. They are sooooooo much easier than they used to be and lets face it, they're sooooo much cuter!!! With modern washing machines and the antibacterial properties of most fabrics, it's no longer necessary to soak our nappies and the variety is immense. There are nappies out there to suit every budget and for those who do chose cloth, it can often become somewhat of an addiction. I sure wish that I had more disposable cash to spend on some of the beautiful nappies currently available. So, why is it that cloth nappy users are still so hugely in the minority?

I've heard so many mums come out with "oh I couldn't be doing with that" and things like "it's hard enough coping with a newborn without adding to my load". Are people today seriously misguided enough to actually believe this? When you have two adults and a baby in a home, is doing an extra load of washing once or twice a week really going to make the blindest bit of difference to your workload? Because at the end of the day, that's all it takes - an extra load of washing.

When I bought the bulk of my nappies back in 2006, nappies had moved on a hell of a lot from what they were back in the 80s. You could buy all in ones (AIOs) that go on like a disposable. The downside of these was a) they were much more expensive; b) they took forever to dry and c) they would often need replacing before a child trained as Polyurethene laminate (PUL) is not designed to be washed quite as frequently as would be necessary with AIOs. Some of the AIOs currently being marketed have combatted a lot of these issues though. The pocket nappy was pretty unheard of in the UK at that time or I may have considered it. The pocket nappy consists of a liner interior (usually fleece), that wicks liquid away from baby's skin) and a waterproof outer. The absorbent bit of the nappy comes in the form of an insert or "booster" that you put inside an opening at the front or back of the nappy. This eliminates the rediculous drying times of many AIOs but retains the ease of use and convenience. Due to a lot of the newer fabrics currently being used such as microfibre and bamboo, they are a lot more absorbent and not nearly so bulky. Some of the nappies I have have an inbuilt liner but some require a separate liner (these can be fleece squares or flushable disposable liners). Then there's the actual nappy - the absorbent bit. Some of mine are polyester, some are cotton and some are bamboo. Bamboo are the most absorbant but take longest to dry. The advantage of the polyester is that they dry in next to no time although they are pretty bulky. And then the last stage is the waterproof outer or "wrap". Most of mine are PUL although I do have a few woolen wraps - these need to be lanolized. I made the plunge into cloth four years ago when the selection wasn't nearly as great as it is now.

Nowadays, you can still opt for the three part nappy system - this certainly works out cheaper than a lot of other alternatives but you can get great one size AIOs/pocket nappies which, depending on where you buy them, can also be extremely cost effective. I can't imagine just choosing disposables if I were having my first baby right now. Wee Notions (and I'm sure some other companies too) make nappies to order so you can even design your own and have them made to your exact specification! And then there are the animal character nappies Starbunz. You can order these as AIOs, PNs or just as a waterproof wrap. How cool are they??!! Cloth nappies no longer need to be ridiculously bulky and on a hot summers day, having your baby sporting nothing but a cute cloth nappy is just the most adorable thing!

Approximately three billion disposable nappies are put in bins in the UK every year. That's just from the UK. We are already running out of landfill sites - to me, it beggars belief that disposable nappies are even legal! My mother in law has often told me of the first disposable nappies and how she wasn't able to buy them for her first child as they didn't really become readily available in the UK until the birth of her second child, my husband in 1980. And back then they consisted of a large roll, similar to cotton wool that you cut off to the required size and you used these with the plastic pants that you used to use with the terry squares. So by her account, disposable nappies have only been used for 30 years. What'll happen in another 30 years when there's actually 60 years' worth of waste, double what we've got now - or in 90, or 120... Surely we can't go on like this? Something is gonna have to give and personally, I think the sooner the better.

Added to the stress on our ever filling and limited landfill sites is the environmental impact of the manufacture of disposable nappies. And the ones that don't make it into the landfills instead find their way into incinerators and become harmful toxic gases being pumped out into the air we breath.

I've heard arguments regarding cloth nappies not being any kinder to the environment when considering their manufacture, the materials used, the energy and chemicals used to wash them etc but anyone using these arguments clearly has no understanding of the manufacturing process for their disposable counterparts. Also, when the cloth nappies you buy end up being used on several babies, such as mine for example (have been used on three babies now), they turn out to be even better for the environment. There is a relatively good resale value to cloth nappies too so when you are done with them, you can pass them on, recoup some of your expenditure and also do a further good turn to the environment. As for the energy, chemicals and water used to launder cloth, this can be fairly minimal if you want it to be. I use soap nuts for my nappies which are, as the name suggests, nuts that emit soap. A totally natural product. I never tumble my nappies and therefore aren't using energy for this and I dry pail which means the only water used is the water in the washer. If my nappies do need an extra rinse, I use bath water that we're finished with. Also, if you are trying to be as much of an eco-warrior as possible, it's important to chose your fabric well. Fair trade organic cotton, hemp and bamboo are great materials - 100% renewable and probably the best choices for the tree hugger in you :D

So what are the arguments for NOT using cloth nappies? Convenience? You have to actually go to the shops to buy disposable nappies - an inconvenience in itself and thus adding further to the already large carbon footprint of the disposable nappy. Yes, you get to put them in the bin and forget about them but at what cost? And when you finish with a cloth nappy, you get to deposit that in the bin too - the nappy bin. The only difference is that when the nappy bin gets full, you don't empty it into the outside bin, you empty it into the washing machine!

People who know me will all nod knowingly when I say that I am the most disorganized person I know. I'm totally hopeless. Most days I spend chasing my tail trying to get things into order and usually fail miserably because there's not an organized bone in my body! So I put it to anyone considering using cloth nappies, or those who feel that they "can't be doing with that" if I can do it, why can't you?

Is it just me or am I on my own again?

Sorry to bring a downer to a generally up beat blog but I feel so totally shitty today.

Does anyone ever get the feeling that they just weren't meant to be born when they were to the people they were born to? I feel so totally out of sorts - like a square peg in a round hole. I've never felt like I fit in. From school, to family, to work and now just simply looking around the playground at the other mums - I'm just not like other people. I think that most people around me think me totally barking mad and the very few that actually "get" me probably think me even madder! Some people pity me and some people bitch about me. Some snicker and can be cruel but then there are those that pass me with a patronizing, somewhat curious look. Maybe I'm reading too much into it and maybe I'm just plain paranoid but either way, I'm still that square peg.

I don't know what the reasons are for my oddities. There could be thousands of explanations - probably all of them holding a little weight. I suppose I put it mostly down to my upbringing. I wasn't raised in a conventional way. It was a single parent family with a fairly abusive single parent. I guess a large contributing factor is that I never really learnt or understood a lot of social etiquette. I still to this day don't understand why people find swearing offensive. They are just words at the end of the day. If I drop a glass of milk everywhere, why is saying "Oh Man!" more socially acceptable than saying "Oh Fuck!"? I just don't get it. Neither phrase holds any relevance over the situation and neither "man" nor "fuck" have anything to do with a spilled glass of milk... It's just something we say to let off a little steam and it has to be said that more often than not, in that situation the F word's gonna win with me.

And then there's the "hippy" outlook on life. I don't think that I'm that "tree-hugger-ish" Yes, I use cloth nappies - I care about the fact that every disposable nappy ever made is still out there in the world's landfills festering away. I care about the harmful chemicals we have around our home and that find their way into our bodies. I care about where our foods have come from and how it's been treated before it comes to us. I'm trying right now to find a realistic alternative to milk as I feel hypocritical still buying dairy knowing what I know about the dairy industry. Save having a lactating cow in my back garden, I don't think there's much that'll convince me it's ethical and therefore OK to consume dairy products - and that's not taking into account all the unnatural nature of modern milk. Even my husband thinks I'm going way too far with this one.

I am also seriously lacking in the ability to think before I speak. It's the same with written word. I don't edit what I type - be it on here or on an online forum. I just type and then post. I tend to re-read and sometimes edit for typos but that's about it. I seem to lack the ability to sensor my communication so sometimes I'm blunt, sometimes I curt but most often the source of most offense is simply that what I come out with is just downright inappropriate. I guess that leads onto another element of my lack of comprehension of social etiquette. Why are certain subjects out of bounds for polite conversation? Why mustn't we talk about sex and associated subjects? Everyone has sex - what's the big deal? If we're all doing it, then why can't we talk about it?

Another aspect of my personality that has caused untold upset lately is my volume. I'm naturally loud. I don't walk around shouting at the top of my lungs but when talking, especially if the subject matter is pretty close to my heart, my volume just increases. It's not something I'm even aware of. But when people who have no right start "shshing" you, that's gonna leave an impression, and personally, it's gonna hurt. It's another clear message that you're not accepted as you are, you don't fit in and gives the impression that you're not wanted - it hurts.

Most of the time I find my tendency to deviate from the norm invigorating and it reaffirms my sense of being and individuality. Most of the time I'm glad I'm a little bit "different". Most of the time when people think my latest opinions crazy, I relish the opportunity to explain and enjoy that hopeful enthusiasm I have for possibly changing someone's mind or planting new seeds of thought. Most of the time however, is not today. Today I feel isolated. Today I feel totally alone and just for today, I'm wishing I was like everyone else.

The best day of our lives

So today has been utterly hectic. I've been running around like a mad thing trying to get countless loads of washing washed, dried, and ironed. Been trying to keep the house tidy at the same time as keeping three little girls entertained and fed and watered and did I mention entertained? Yikes! I've still got a massive stack of ironing to do - can't believe it as it feels like I've not stopped ironing for two whole days.

E has been just wandering around whimpering and crying in between her sleeps today. I think she's teething, poor baby. It's just been so hard though as she just wants to be held and I've got soooo much to do.

S has been driving me insane with a constant tirade of "mummy I'm huuuuuuuuuuuuungry!!!!!!!!!" Seriously the girl has not stopped eating ALL day and I've point blank run out of healthy snacks and meals - trying to stay completely clear of junk as M is getting a little too podgy. Just as I start thin king that I must have filled her up by now, out she comes with another "I'm still HUNGRY!" OMG! I would list everything she's eaten but I'm too scared of the backlash for allowing a child to consume their own body weight in food :P

And M, OMG! She's been SO naughty. She thrives on positive attention and successfully acts out her plots for world domination should the attention run dry. Today I've been busy so not much time for one on one with my little missy M. We've had stickers on the baby, food through the cat flap, the downstairs toilet has been flooded twice. We've had crayons in the washing machine and toilet rolls down the toilet (although at least it wasn't contact lenses and expensive aftershave this time - and that little beauty wasn't even at home, she saved that up for a friends house - oh the shame!!! - And I won't mention how after M had done this, S proceeded to poo on the lot - ARGH!), and then there's my personal favourite: eating E's share of the strawberries and blaming the cat. That girl... I remember my sister-in-law once rubbing my belly when pregnant with S saying "I hope it's a girl and I hope she's just like you" and following that up with an evil little grin and chuckle. Well she got her wish only her little curse ended up arriving in the form of M instead! I'm almost feeling sympathy for my mother - almost :P

And J. He's a typical teenager and as such is one of the most selfish individuals I come across. He drives me batty and if I hear one more moan or huff at simply asking him to carry out the jobs he's supposed to do without being asked, I think my head may actually explode!

So, here I sit, looking over at the stack of ironing still to be done and exhausted after my battling with my three oh-so-demanding little angels and it's suddenly struck me how damn lucky I am - weird! This is hard work. This is the hardest job I've ever had and probably ever will have but I can't think of anything more rewarding. I get to work for the people who mean more to me than anything else on this Earth and every now and then I get to fully appreciate how wonderful life is!

So for now, I'll try and stop panicking about all the chores left to do. I'll try and stop fretting and moaning about how much hard work my kids are and I'll acknowledge that right here, right now, I'm living the best days of my life!

A day in the life of the crazy lady with hundreds of kids...

I was thinking back today about when J was younger and I worked in town. I would say goodbye to the family and hubby would drop J off with his mum on his own way to work. I would sit and read on the commute and then get on with the daily grind. I would spend my journey home reading too. I didn't realise back then just how lovely it was to just sit and read - one of the many things I took for granted, like having the time to clean your teeth and shower at will! I'd get home and it'd be a mad rush to get dinner cooked and J to bed so that we could sit down and have a bit of an evening before turning in and starting it all over again the following day.

At the weekend, I'd spend the first half of pretty much every Saturday catching up with housework and doing countless loads of laundry.
We'd then have the rest of the day to ourselves as a family and most of Sunday too. By the time Sunday evening came around, I would have a pile of ironing to do before being able to turn in for the night (I find it quite amusing remembering how huge that pile of ironing used to seem to me!), and then the grind would start again first thing on Monday morning.

I never truly felt able to even enjoy annual leave as there would be this timer counting down in my head to my next train journey back into work. Ugh, it really wasn't a pleasant time of my life. All I wanted was to stay at home and have more babies!

So, fast forward seven years and here I am. I'm living my dream. I always secretly believed that I harboured this ideal due to a deep seeded laziness and the thought of having countless hours to myself at home was oh-so-appealing... Mwahahahahahahaha!!!! Niaivity's a bitch :P

So, up for the day at 5.35am. E has a nice long nursing session as we sit together for the next 15 minutes on the rocker in her bedroom. S&M (done gone did it again :P) somehow know that we're awake and come bunding into the room to play with E's toys and her hands and feet while she continues to nurse. Being that she's nearly nine months old, her sisters' presence now means that rather than just nurse, she bobs on and off taking frequent breaks to investigate what they are up to.

I get the older girls downstairs and pop the tele on - primarily to increase my chances of actually getting the kettle on and tea made before the tirades of "mummy I want breakfast NOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and "I want water mummy, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze" start - at this point I NEED caffeine!

Pop some bread in the toaster while the tea is brewing in a pre-emptive manner. S then comes in with "No Mummy, I want cereal". So out come the bowls. S, M & E sitting at the table nicely eating their breakfast and me with much needed cuppa - so far, so good!

Run upstairs to force the boy from his deep slumber and hang around long enough to be confident that he's not just going to lie back down and go back to sleep. Back into the kitchen to make lunch.

The boy comes down and joins the girls for breakfast while I check with him that he has what's needed for his school day ahead. Girls all require more food and this is where the toast comes in handy (not just a pretty face ;-) ). Drinks topped up and food replenished and on to straightening the boy's hair. I then get the girls cleaned up while the boy cleans his teeth. I rush upstairs, chuck some clothes on while DH, just having gotten out of bed inquires if I might like him to take the boy to the station instead this morning. I confirm that yes, actually, that'd be nice, thanks so much sweetie.

Downstairs it is. I stop on the first floor to collect items of clothing for S, M & E. S gets herself dressed and I get M dressed. I do their hair and then stop to make myself a bite to eat. Kiss hubbie and boy goodbye and I put E to bed for her first nap and then go and feed the chickens. Am a little concerned to note that Miss Mabel is still in the nest box (day two now) and is looking broodier and broodier by the day. She's plucked most of her breast feathers out and is currently sitting on two of yesterdays and all of todays eggs. Hmm. A flutter of excitement runs through me in the hopes that hubbie may actually consider letting me get some fertilized eggs and I try and quosh this thought as my rational mind is telling me: NOT BLOODY LIKELY LUV! Collect the eggs that aren't covered by said chicken and return indoors.

Fill up jug with water and water the hanging baskets and melon plants in hall. I chug down the last of my now cold tea. Clean the table and pick up the breakfast that failed to make it into mouths and instead now occupies the floor. I sweep up, load dishwasher and hang the washing out and put another load on. I then sit down to check what's occurring on line. Not a lot :P Look up at the time and it's now 8.30am. I go to get the moby on to find that the boy has hidden it - almost certainly just to get me in a fluster ;-) After searching for the moby in all the likely places (and becoming more and more aware that time is running out, and more and more convinced that the boy is living the secret life of a sadist), I phone the boy who tells how he shoved it behind the chair in the lounge - of course! Why on Earth didn't I think to look there??? Moby on, baby woken and deposited in said moby. Shoes on girls and the school run commences.


S's South Africa assembly is today and the parents are invited to join so we hang around the school after kissing S goodbye. In we go. Assembly was of course amazing and S was definitely the star of the show (the fact that none of the other parents probably even noticed her was neither here nor there :P). One of the other mums asks if we can go back to mine for a coffee as it's not that long before we've got to pick the kids up. So, after congratulating S for her unrivalled outstanding performance, off we traipse back to the mad house.

Coffee made and chit-chat accomplished. M plays with my friend's little girl L and E goes to bed. I show off my latest batch of brownies and we try to stop the two older girls from decapitating one another! Time for school run arrives, moby comes out, shoes on feet and away we go. Walk to the school, walk back and on with the lunch.

Change E's bum, get the pre-nap milk warmed for S and M. Take them all up to bed and tuck them in for their afternoon nap. E isn't having any of it so I bring her downstairs and play with her for another 20 minutes and then take her up and try again. Success and peace at last :)


Out into the garden for some much needed weeding. Thought to myself "I'll just pop out and get rid of those weeds..." Nearly 1.5 hours later, the weeding is finally done (well, as done as I can be bothered with).


Come in and grab myself some toast and sit down to eat it with a cuppa. Just swallow my last bite and the baby wakes - pretty good nap for her! All the girls seem to wake up at once these days so they all come down and we spend the next hr and a bit playing kerplunk and some other floor games. J gives me the "three ring" signal that he's soon going to need picking up so I get shoes on and bundle the girls into the car. Off we go to pick J up.

I get home and J watches the girls for me while I "just check something online" and I have 20 mins to myself (naughty mummy!). I then go and chop veggies and make gravy and grill sausages for the sausage casserole. Bung it all together and plop it in the oven. I then run round like a lunatic picking up toys, cups and glasses that have accumulated throughout the day and put everything back in it's rightful place. I vacuum and clean the downstairs toilet. S&M are playing in the garden and clean the kitchen and lay the table for dinner. I fold the washing from the line and hang the next load out, hoping that it doesn't rain tonight!

Hubbie comes in just as I've sat down with the laptop again and gives me that "you've had a busy day then..." expression




Get everyone drinks for dinner and them to the table and we all sit down to eat dinner. 35mins later and it's clean up time. I get the girls cleaned up and deposited in the lounge while I go out and water the plants in the garden. I then take the girls upstairs and get their pjs on, clean their teeth, give them their milk and tuck them in.

I take E into her room and commence my attempt at nursing her to sleep. Her settling of an evening is becoming increasingly difficult. 25 minutes later and she's looking pretty asleep but experience has taught me not to trust it! I very carefully place her in bed and leave the room as quietly and carefully as possible. I just make it to the bottom of the stairs when I hear that all familiar "waaaaaaaaaaaaa" yay. Up the stairs I go and try again. It's been pretty hot so I give her some water and try nursing her again. After a further 20 minutes, she seems pretty soundo. I come downstairs and actually get to the point of sitting down this time before she's crying again. Argh! After yet another failed attempt, I tell hubbie it's his turn and he goes up. He comes down ten minutes later and she's quiet! She starts moaning a little but it doesn't last long and this time she stays asleep. Send the boy to bed having checked that he's done all necessary homework etc and then hubbie and I watch some TV while on our laptops. About an hour of "us" time and baby starts fussing again - right around the time we were planning on going to bed ourselves. Hubby settles her and we both turn in.


Not the quiet lazy life I had in mind all those years ago lol! But boy does it beat the daily rat race I was living back then!

The moon is a curious thing...

So, another conundrum for another day:

To moon cup or not to moon cup, that is the question.

I'm becoming more and more aware of my own carbon footprint and that of my family. I hate the thought that my being here is of detriment to the Earth on which I live. I've started trying to grow my own crop. I walk as often as possible and I use cloth nappies. I point blank refuse to tumble dry my nappies and try not to use the tumble dryer (with a family of six, and the very fact that we own one makes this difficult during particularly rainy weeks... oooh the tepmtation... :P) when the line makes clothes smell nicer anyway! I also (don't tell anyone ;-) ) *whispers* breastfeed (ssh!) I try to limit the amount of harmful chemicals we use in the home by using alternate cleaners and most of our meals and snacks are home made from raw ingredients.

I know that there is more I could be doing but I am trying to make an effort where I can.

This brings me onto the subject for this post. Menstruation and it's impact on the environment. Like most women, I currently use "conventional" sanitary protection such as disposable tampons and towels. (Primarily the former.) I first heard of the moon cup approximately three years ago and was at best mildly intrigued and primarily just grossed out! I'd much rather put "normal" products in my Asda trolley thank you very much! It struck me recently though that this is a pretty hypocritical approach to be taking - heck, my babies use cloth so why shouldn't I? So I started looking into cloth towels.


But I don't know. I just can't seem to get my head around that one! I guess periods to me are pretty nasty (because to most women of course they're wonderfully liberating and loveable experiences :P). I find it an extremely depressing part of life. What it does to my moods, what it does to my skin, what it does to my pain levels and my already pretty bloated gut... It's just all round unpleasant. The thought of having to have any more to do with it than absolutely necessary just doesn't seem to compute so having to actually remove the towel, deposit it for storage until the washload is ready and then have to actually handle the towels once they're done with... I think I'll stick with my trusty Tampax and Lilettes if it's all the same!

But then it's not is it? The same, I mean. Being that your average sanitary towel will take approximately 800 years to bio-degrade, every towel that I've ever used (and everyone used by my fellow menstruating compadres) is still out there somewhere, slowly festering in those oh-so-quickly filling landfills. This exact thought converted me to the way of cloth nappies and here I am, happily picking a packet of Always off of the shelf and throwing it into the trolley...

So, if using cloth pads doesn't appeal then perhaps it is time to go back to the moon cup and give it some serious consideration.

According to what I've been reading, the average woman contributes approximately 11,000 tampons or pads to our existing landfills in her lifetime. We're quickly running out of space and ruining our planet for good measure. Surely it's about time that we started giving a hoot about what we're doing to the world around and what messages we're handing down to future generations.

And then there's the cost. I'm spending on average £4 per month on sanitary protection. Sure, a Mooncup retails for around £18 and that's over four times as much money. Difference is of course that a single Mooncup should last you for several years.

My main concern over the practicalities of Aunt Flo and the Mooncup were when your only facilities are communal - not sure that I'd feel too comfy standing next to an unsuspecting innocent old lady while I rinse out my menses! But having done a bit of digging, it turns out that the moon cup will last much longer than your average tampon and due to the fact that it doesn't absorb natural protective secretions, or embed foreign fibres into the surrounding skin, there's no need to change it so often. Therefore, with a tiny amount of forethought, this one "issue" shouldn't become an issue at all.

I think I'm ready to take the plunge and give this a go. I care about hygiene, I care about the environment and I care about my not-so-deep pocket.

Life presents us with countless choices. I think that as a society, we need to start realising and understanding that those choices often have an impact that's incredibly far reaching and that may affect not just ourselves and those around us, but the entire planet.

Great Mum?

So today I finally hauled my cold and hay fever ridden body up and out of the house for my first ever Peer Supporter Enrichment Session. It was pretty cool. We hashed out things like the "I formula fed, so what?" article and even one involving a wife who apparently still nurses her 13 year old daughter, her five year old son and even allows her husband regular "milky snacks". Interesting reading! Lol.

I stayed on for the regular Friday morning "Bumps & Boobs" club and enjoyed catching up with friends and meeting new ones! Whilst all this was going on, S&M (hmm, not to sure I should refer to the two older girls quite like that :P), were running amok helping themselves to countless drinks from the water dispenser and finding oh so exciting pastimes in the facility's two adjoining toilets. I was very into the conversations so despite not actively ignoring the two older girls, I wasn't keeping as good an eye on them as perhaps I "should". I do try to keep a rough idea of their whereabouts in mind but can't really claim better than that. I kept catching them wasting cups and hand towels and when one mum asked if it were my two girls in the toilets (hadn't noticed them go in there on that particular occasion - the toilets are "in" the room we facilitate), I got the impression that perhaps people had begun to notice that I wasn't really on the ball today. Most mums will at some time feel a little "under scrutiny" and I have to say that I was worried that I was headed this way.

Of course I made a mental note to pay far more attention and make sure that they didn't get up to any more mischief (kept this up for a whole three minutes - impressive huh!?!).

I got chatting to one of my friends - a really lovely lady and a fellow "insane woman with hundreds of kids" and she just dropped casually into conversation that she thought I was "a really great mum". I laughed it off and said she was only saying that because she hadn't seen me at home... I also felt a little better about my maternal performance thus far that morning lol! It did get me thinking though. What makes a "really great mum"?

I guess there isn't a direct answer to this as there are thousands of variables that mean different things to different people. As parents, we all have a picture in our minds as to what would make us great in our parenting roles and I guess the best any of us can do is try to fit that image as closely as possible.

For me, I guess being a better mother than my own was to me isn't really something to aspire to - it's a given! My sister would probably disagree, but it is what it is. It cannot be disputed that my mother would have us all line up outside her bedroom door and call us in one by one to be beaten with a hard leather soled sandal - that thing left BLISTERS! That's just one example of the many "parenting" "techniques" that my mother chose and for me, being better than that was always going to happen.

The image I have in mind of being a great mum include things like,spending time with your children doing fun activities and even the occasional "educational" activity ;-) Not getting too angry at the drop of a hat and allowing their personal development at their own pace. Letting them do some "naughty" things and to let them make mistakes, help them learn from them. Providing them with as many useful tools as possible for future life: teaching them how to eat healthily, eat in moderation, involve them in cooking and cleaning, tidying and putting away. Teaching them how to use general household utensils and to tell them you love them at every opportunity. I think it's important to teach them how to be responsible. Teach them the repercussions of their actions and that actions have consequences that have to be faced. Show them the world we live in and help them understand how best to preserve it for their own future and that of future generations. To be loving but also to set boundaries and teach them how best to follow them.

These are the things I aspire to. I'm currently falling very short in many different areas. I, like most mums have days when I feel like the best mum in the world. But then there are the days when I've snapped and spent far too much time yelling and not in complete control. I've spent nights kept awake by the sheer worry of what my behaviour has done to the children and if it's that action that they'll remember - like me standing outside my mother's bedroom door waiting to be beaten (funnily enough I really don't remember much of the actual beatings, but the anticipation of them was wicked and intense). I worry about the emotional scars that my sometimes heavy sanctions will put on the children and I worry about the times when I'm "too soft" and what that'll do for their ability to stay within boundaries set by schools and other institutions.

I guess at the end of the day, it's a mother's curse to worry and worry we shall. I guess we're all "a really great mum", to our children. We're the only one they have!

Dear E, the child we didn't plan

Dear E

My beautiful, stunning and angelic little girl. When I allow my mind to wander back to just finding out that I was expecting you, I'm filled with shame. How is it that we thought our family was complete? How did I possibly not sense your future presence - know in my heart that there was still space there waiting for you?

I was devastated sweet girl. You see your sisters were only 1 and 2 and I was terrified what life would mean having three under three. I cried, oh how I cried. I thought about the pain of my last pregnancy having suffered severe SPD and I was terrified about having to face that again. I thought about your sister still nursing and how my milk would dry up forcing her to wean. I thought about our foster son who would no doubt be taken from us as his social worker was already unimpressed by our having your two sisters so close in age. I thought about the burden I was putting on your father who would no doubt have to become the sole bread winner for our home. I thought about the possibility of our losing our home and the devastating effect that would have on us all. I thought about your brother, and how he'd been so helpful with your sisters but how I would be burdening him further and wanting more help from him. I thought about a termination. I thought about how much easier that would be and how it would be the logical solution. But I knew without even considering it that I would never be able to abort a healthy child. I thought all these things and more.

What I didn't think about though was the miracle of pregnancy and the joy of giving birth. I didn't consider the wonderment of holding a brand new life in your arms for the very first time - a life that you'd created. I didn't think about that new nursing relationship I'd find or the smell of the newborn nestled in my embrace. I didn't think about the all encompassing piercing love that is never as intense as when it's brand new. I didn't think about the amazement and joy at watching a new life hit individual milestones; the very first smile, the first coo, the first roll. And most of all, I didn't think of you!

I look at you now and know that even if I didn't know what I wanted, someone else had a clue. The powers that be ignored my efforts and sent you to me - something that I will be eternally grateful for.

So for now sweet girl, know that you will always hold my heart in your heart. You will always be loved as much as it's humanly possible to be loved and that I watch you everyday a little more in love. You are wanted so very very much!

Analytical Armadillo Blog post on Mother and Baby

Before commenting on this blog, I'd like to point out that I am 100% pro choice when it comes to infant feeding. My problem stems from the lack of education in the health system. Countless money and time goes into teaching women about labour, what pain medication is available, what will likely happen etc. Pregnant women get taught by NHS funded ante-natal classes different breathing techniques and local hospital visiting hours. All this "education" for something that will last, at most, a few days of your life. The pitfalls of formula can have detrimental effects that last a lifetime for both mother and baby. During the ante natal classes I attended, 15 mins was "dedicated" to pros and cons of both feeding options. Listed on the positives of breastfeeding were: easier bonding with baby and easier maternal weight loss. On the list of cons for formula feeding were: having to wash and prepare bottles and having to be more organised before leaving the house. SIDS wasn't mentioned, nor were diabetes, breast and ovarian cancer, childhood obesity... you get the gist. My point is, I'm pro choice when it's an educated choice! If a woman armed with, and is accepting of all the facts still chooses to formula feed then so be it. I'm not that mother, I've not walked her path and Lord knows I make far too many mistakes myself to be worthy of judging another human being!

Anyway, lets get back to the reason for this post:

http://analyticalarmadillo.blogspot.com/2010/06/mother-baby-come-now-are-we-really-that.html

I found this blog a real interesting read. The first paragraph was pretty intense but necessary. Some of the comments on it however made me a little sad.

There was a comment regarding how the number of breastfed infants who died was not published. The person who made this comment clearly misunderstood the statistic quoted. The 1000 babies cited were not the total number of formula fed infants who died, that's the number of formula fed babies who died because they were formula fed. i.e. when looking at the data and research collected, and removing all other variables, these 1000 babies would not have died had they have received their mothers' milk. So, if people wanted a direct comparable for breastfed babies, the statistic would have to relate to breastfed babies who died because they were breastfed. I'm not sure if a statistic like this even exists and if it does, the number would be far smaller and relate not to the milk or effect on the digestive and immune systems, but more to the circumstances brought about by breastfeeding (i.e. falling asleep while nursing in an upright position etc).

A family member told me a while back while I was on another formula bashing rant that "statistics can be manipulated". I was and still am fully aware of this but who on Earth would manipulate statistics to show formula to be worse than it is? Who would stand to gain from promoting breastfeeding (other than countless mothers and babies that is)? It all comes down to money at the end of the day and there's no money in breastfeeding but formula on the other hand...

The "breast brigade" or "breastfeeding Nazis" or "lactavism mafia" have nothing to gain from prattling on about the ills of formula. We do it because something fundamental deep in our core tells us that artificial feeding is wrong! Human milk is what is physiologically expected from the human infant - logic alone should tell us that anything else isn't going to cut it.

People seem to forget that formula was invented as a life saving tool to prevent infant demise when a mother is physically incapable of producing sufficient milk to sustain life (and FTR, this is estimated to be around 1% of mothers). I for one wish it had stayed in it's rightful place - I would never have willingly fed it to my innocent, non-consenting son had I not have lived in a culture that so readily reaches for formula at the earliest breastfeeding hurdles.

As for making mothers feel guilty by citing hard facts, I'd like to refer to "Watch Your Langauge" where this issue is addressed much more eloquently than I could portray: http://www.bobrow.net/kimberly/birth/BFLanguage.html

It's all about me...

So, here I sit. Laptop on lap and wondering what to write. I guess I'll tell you a little about me - not that it's that interesting but here goes!

My name is Jocasta (yes, I did have sadistic parents!) I was born at 5.29am on 1 May 1980, the fourth child of Audrey Anita Flanagan who for reasons I'm not sure of called herself Anita. (More on her later :P)

I am the wife of an infuriatingly wonderful man (who is soon to become a Dr I may add!), who I have loved since we were 15. He gets a lot of flack from me - primarily due to the fact that I like (love) to moan! But, in all fairness, he's the most generous and loving man I could ever hope to meet and I'm lucky enough to call him husband (well, actually I generally just call him Joe :P). He is the father to my four stunning, beautiful, awe inspiring, bog standard children. J (13), S (3), M (2) and E (8m).

I am a "stay at home mum"/"housewife" and for the most part LOVE my job. The house is usually messy and there's ALWAYS a huge pile of ironing somewhere around the downstairs!

I grow as much of my own fruit and veg as I can, I love to bake and have started doing cakes to order.

I have started trying to be more ecologically minded, hence the grow your own. We also recently bought chickens so that we could ensure that our eggs come from birds who are treated in a humane fashion - and also to cut down the cost on our pocket and the environment. I use cloth nappies for both cost and environmental reasons.

I am most passionate about breastfeeding. I have bored the pants off of friends and family and out right infuriated some due to my passion/obsession. I decided to channel this enthusiasm in a more constructive manner and recently trained as a Breastfeeding Peer Supporter within the district of Swale.

So, now you've been adequately bored, I'll bid you adieu!