My Magic Moment this week is a bit random. I was actually a bit stumped for a post, and was almost tempted to miss it, as I had nothing to share but then I had a little moment on Saturday, and thought I’d blog about it.
I have an old, old watch. A Swatch Watch, that I bought for myself, nearly 15 years ago, just before LSH and I started dating. It’s pink, chunky, waterproof, and very sturdy. It served me well, survived my student nursing days, travelled with me, worn everywhere. I’m not a “delicate” watch person, this old watch is tough and chunky. I replaced its strap and batteries, and it kept going. After Big Girl was born, the strap broke, and I searched in vain to find a replacement strap, but it turns out that Swatch stopped making straps for my watch, and it was consigned to their “retro” section, and ironically, had doubled in value from when I bought it. I tried Ebay, various websites, and finally gave up, and put it in a drawer, bought myself a cheap watch, and forgot about it. Occasionally, I have looked for a strap for it, but in vain.
On Saturday, I took it out of the drawer and decided to have one last go at replacing the strap. There’s an old-fashioned jewellers in Richmond, and I noticed they have a Swatch section, and a selection of straps, so I popped in there, and asked them if they could fix it? The woman assisting me, was dubious, but then the manager of the shop remembered that he “might” have an old pink strap, that would work. He went and rummaged, and came back, with a strap. He said it had been in his store-room for ages and he had been about to throw it away as it didn’t fit any other Swatch watches, and again, he commented that mine is “rare” and apparently a collectors item. He fitted it for me, and replaced the battery, and gave the watch a clean, and now I have my treasured watch, back and working. I’m funny, that way. Whilst I love flashy gadgets, and new things, I also love old and reliable things, that work, and my watch means a lot to me. Sounds silly, but I am so delighted to have it back on my wrist. If I hadn’t decided to take it with me, I may not have ever got it fixed.
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Oh look, she’s blogging about sleep, or lack of it, again, I hear you mutter. Yes, I am going to talk about sleep, and probably sound a bit whiney, but this is more of an update post, than anything else.
We recently discovered that Small Boy has probably been suffering with chronic ear infections, which are likely to be the major contributing factor in his bad sleep habits. We are now in the process of getting reffered to ENT to see if he needs grommets, which hopefully will ease his discomfort, and make him feel better, and thus lead to better sleep.
Sadly though, for now, the poor sleep continues. He has gotten into some sleep habits, which mean that whilst we are getting some sleep, we aren’t getting as much as we need, but because I am not prepared to do anything in terms of “sleep-training” (how I hate that word, and we don’t believe in cry it out, or leaving him to scream, so we won’t be doing that once his ears are better anyway) until we are sure his ears are better and he isn’t in any more pain and the ear infections have cleared up. He comes into our bed, at night, at some point, and goes to sleep in between us, and invariably wakes me up, so once he has settled and gone back to sleep, I move him back to his own bed, because I cannot cope with him sleeping in our bed. He wriggles, hates the covers, likes to sleep touching me, and disturbs LSH. I don’t have a problem when he is unwell, or until he is back asleep and can be moved, but I don’t get any sleep if he is in the bed, and I need my sleep, for my mental and physical health. He needs the comfort of being close to me, to go back to sleep, and I am happy to give him that, but co-sleeping with him all night does not work for me.
He is going through a very needy, and sensitive stage. He has always been more high needs in terms of emotional security, compared to his sister, and we now know that his ear issues are probably a major contributing factor to this, as well as his personality in general. He is very attached to me, often just wants to be with me, no matter what I am doing, and will refuse to let LSH do anything for him, when I am around. He is also going through the normal 2-3 year development stages, so there are a few emotional outbursts, and some drama, as only a 3-year-old can produce, which we know is part of where he is at, as he grows up, but I am the only one who can comfort him, and often the only one who can calm him down, help him to get back to his normal, sunny self. When I am tired, and we have had a rough night, I still have to be Mummy, and I have to shake myself, and be there for him, and I will admit, it is hard work, and some days, I also end up in tears, when we have had a tough day. He is so bright, funny, and such an amazing little person, and I am learning a lot about my own emotions and how I control them, as I parent him, but, it is tiring. He is, in many respects a normal toddler, but he does have more needs, emotionally, and physically, now, and each day is a new day, as we try to figure out how to handle him, ourselves and life.
So, I am tired, we are tired, we plod on. Hopefully the ENT referral will happen soon, and we will be making progress towards getting him seen by a doctor and steps made towards grommets, we have taken cows milk entirely out of his diet, which is slowly helping to ease the pressure on his ears, sinuses and system, and I am learning to compromise on certain things, and letting my A type personality take a break. A sparkling, clean house would be lovely, I have so many friends I need to see, and a mountain of paperwork that needs catching up with, but if I have an hour or two alone, I nap. I am trying to go to bed earlier, to ensure I get as much sleep as possible. All our friends and family are excited that we have “finally” found out what the issue might be, but I know we have a long road ahead of us, to get things in a better place, so whilst I feel positive, I am not excited. I just want to manage our life, get a bit more sleep when we can, and carry on. I have said it before, but if sleep is for the weak, then I am not ashamed to admit, that I am weak. Small Boy’s sleep began to deteriorate around the time of his first ear infection, when he was 6 months old. We are now at 30 months of poor sleep. We hope this will begin to come to an end soon!
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Prose for Thought
Welcome to my Friday’s Rants from the Soap Box in my Living Room. A small space in the week where I can have a chunter about things that have made me twitch with annoyance or made me question if the world has gone mad or not….
I also linked up with MummyBarrow for her Ranty Friday. You can find her blog and link up here if you’d like to join in. A good rant can be therapeutic.
My Ranty Friday this week is about manners, or lack of them:
I am fairly strict with my children, about manners. “Please”, “thank you”, “excuse me”, you know, the basic stuff, that somehow, society seems to be forgetting how to use.
Maybe I am wrong, maybe it’s just been a bad couple of weeks, maybe my chronic lack of sleep and tiredness is making me so grumpy, that I am being super sensitive, and noticing lack of manners and general politeness, more than usual, but it seems to me, that people really are not as polite as they used to be, and consideration for others and common courtesy is dying out?
Why is it ok to not say excuse me, when you are trying to get past someone, or need to reach over them in the supermarket to get something on a shelf? Why is ok to not say thank you to the person who served you in the coffee shop, and just to walk away? Why is it ok to not say please when you ask for something?
This week I have seen so much rudeness, and just plain bad manners.
I actually stood next to a woman, in the supermarket, who watched the cashier put all her shopping in a bag, then paid her, then walked away, without even saying thank you. English was not her problem, she had been on the phone, talking, before her turn in the queue, so the language barrier excuse doesn’t cut it. The woman serving her, had been pleasant, polite and fast, I don’t think a “thank-you” was amiss. I am pretty sure, working behind a ’til in Tesco’s all day is not the paradise job to end all jobs, and when people are rude and don’t use basic manners, it can’t be much fun, and I think even somewhat demoralising?
I saw a man shove his way past a line of people, without even saying “excuse me, please”, to get to the service counter he needed, because clearly, he was FAR more important than anyone else, and being polite was beneath him. I don’t care if you are in a hurry, an “excuse me” does not hold you up, or cost you anything.
I made my own 6-year-old give up a seat, for a an older woman, on the bus this week, because she is perfectly capable of standing, for a couple of stops, and the woman didn’t even grace us with a thank-you, just sniffed at us and sat down, again, the language barrier wasn’t a problem, and a thank you would have been appreciated. I don’t expect a fanfare for basic politeness myself, giving up your seat for someone who needs it is something you SHOULD do, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a thank-you.
A man helped a woman down some stairs at the station last weekend, while her partner was too busy on his phone to help her, she was profusely grateful, but the man may as well have been on another planet. Maybe his call was of the utmost importance, but it just seemed downright rude, to me, to not even say a simple thank-you, to the man who helped your partner down some steps, while you were busy?
These are just some of the examples, and whilst they aren’t shocking, they are sad. People don’t queue politely any more, we don’t offer up seats on public transport, we don’t spend a second showing common courtesy to others.
I don’t know how we rectify this? Do we just accept that manners don’t matter, and get on with it, and stop making the effort. I won’t be doing that, and as long as my children are under my roof, please, thank-you and other basic etiquette will be enforced. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t cost anything, and actually it can make someone’s day better.
What do you think? Are manners dying out? Have you noticed a lack of manners and common courtesy? Am I just being grumpy and nit-picky? Are children not being taught manners at school anymore, and parents aren’t teaching them at home?
Feel free to join in the linky, by clicking on the badge below, to add your rant to the Ranty Friday Link
Have a good weekend!
My old Ipod died, so we got this, which is the Ipod Touch. I am thinking an Iphone may be next, which is a huge thing for me, considering I have been a BlackBerry user for nearly 10 years…
Occasionally, I will write a random blog post, on parenting topics, and this is one of those, where I confess something, a weak area, a parenting fail or something we are struggling with as a family.
This week it’s a confession and my confession is: I HATE, LOATHE and DETEST balloons.
I realise this makes me sounds like some sort of life hating, bah-humbuggy Scrooge type, so I will explain, and then I may sound less so!
When I worked at Great Ormond Street, I spent time in the Ear Nose and Throat surgical department, working with some very skilled ENT specialists, and we saw some amazing and ground breaking surgeries and procedures take place. But we also did run of the mill stuff like removing objects from little ears, noses and other places, after they had been inserted or swallowed by curious children. One of the most common things we removed, other than those Lego men heads from ears, was bits of burst balloon, from airways. When a child bites or has a balloon near it’s face, and it pops, they often inhale, in shock, and then a bit of the balloon goes where it isn’t meant to go, or you have babies and toddlers who pick up random bits of burst balloon pieces and put them in their mouths and they get inhaled and go into the airway, and need removing. I remember one week, we did three procedures to remove bits of balloons from little airways, the children had been rushed in, via their local hospital, to us, because the hospital didn’t have suitable facilities to perform the procedures, and we were a specialist children’s hospital and we were always set up for foreign body removals so we could be ready and waiting in short order.
I am not overly fond of balloons, anyway, they look pretty, but they don’t last long, they aren’t environmentally friendly and they pop and always make me jump out of my skin with the noise, or they deflate and look miserable. My children always fight, when they get given a balloons or balloons, and they upset Layla. She won’t go into a room, if she spies a balloon lurking, add to that, the danger they pose to young children, and you pretty much have why I don’t like them much.
So, whilst they aren’t banned, and we take them home from parties and accept them as gifts, they don’t live or last long in our house, and I have been known to go round popping them, before I go to bed, and then hiding the remnants in the dustbin.
There you have it, my parental, Bad Mummy confession of the week. My soul feels lighter now I’ve got that off my chest! I wonder if I am the only person who feels this way about balloons….?
It’s Monday again, and time for another Magic Moments post, hosted by Jaime, from The Oliver’s Mad House…
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote this post about being freaked out about the whole children loosing their teeth thing, and how I would deal with Big Girl’s first wobbly tooth, when it decided to come out.
On Monday, last week, I sent her to school, and I had a feeling that day, was THE day, and that the tooth would be out, by days end.
I was right, and when I collected her from school, she bounced out of the classroom like this….
The tooth apparently fell out at playtime, after lunch, and the very lovely classroom assistant, in Em’s class, had taken it, and put it on a card for her, so she didn’t lose it before hometime. So we were able to leave it for the tooth fairy to collect, and of course, she did, and left some financial reward, and a small note for Big Girl. I was cool, calm and collected about the whole thing, didn’t gag once, even when being made to examine the gap now left by said tooth, and it was a magic moment, for Big Girl, and for me, as we hit another milestone, and she grows up even more. I did shed a tear, as I realised that she is growing up and time is passing too fast, and I can’t keep up, but it was a happy tear!
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This time three years ago, labour was starting. You were on your way. 5 days late, and your birth had some highs and lows, with the fear of meconium aspiration, and that you were in distress. You entered the world as you meant to go on, letting your presence be known, with a little drama and your strong personality was obvious from the start.
You’re funny, incredibly clever with gadgets and technology already, you like singing and dancing, being out and about and exploring the world, on your own terms. We think we have figured out why you don’t like to sleep and we are working on helping that to get better. You make me laugh, and even when I am tired after a not so good night, I can’t be grumpy for long, when you throw your arms around me and plant big kisses on my face, and say “love you Mummy” and I wouldn’t have it any other way!
We’ve gone from this:
And now you are 3!
Happy Birthday Small Boy,
who told me today, “I not Small Boy, I’m Matthew, I’m a BIG boy!”
We love you!