Surviving the Holidays

It's 08.37 on a Sunday and I've been awake for 2 hours. I thought I might take advantage of the fact that the kids are playing/watching TV nicely and write a blog, because I haven't managed or been inclined to write one recently, but have suddenly had the urge. Unfortunately, I have already been interrupted 3 times by my 4 year old, to help her draw leaves on her picture. She's still talking at me too, which makes it very difficult to concentrate.

It has been the school holidays for 4 weeks (sorry, I have to go and draw more leaves........)

Right, yes, school holidays. We have been keeping as busy as possible in order to maintain sanity. We were fortunate enough to have 2 weeks away with my family, which were more or less successful, apart from the amount of arguments and stress during almost every car journey. Apparently, children don't understa.... (the grass looks stupid, I have to draw grass and leaves on a fresh piece of paper, hold on....)

...Children don't understand waiting in queues, or that there's nothing Mummy and Daddy can do about the queues at Eurotunnel, or that it's not our fault that the car park at the aquarium is rammed and full of cars not moving because they're waiting for a space, which means we can neither park, nor leave the car park. They seem to believe that screaming and arguing will somehow improve these situations, and despite best efforts, singing and 'I spy' are not enough to quell their energy. Biscuits work, but only until they run out (why did I not pack more sodding biscuits?!). Of course, the stress would have been more manageable, if the husband and I had managed to remain calm in the face of it all, but his response to yelling children is usually to yell louder, which leads to a basic cacophony of noise, all inside a small metal box, which brings Mummy to the point of insanity and lots of 'we're never leaving the fucking house again, not with all 3 of them' claims. Because, of course, yelling at upset children, tends to just make them cry louder or yell even more, or leads to all 3 of them being upset, rather than just 1 or 2.... (now having a chat about which way the 'flick' on a 'Y' should go)....... As parents, we all understand that usually, the best way to deal with a child's chaos is to meet it with calm, to try and talk through it, to rationalise (as far as is possible) and to not throw our own chaos into the mix. In an ideal world, hubby and I would have nipped all tantrums in the bud, and nothing would have escalated to the screaming box of hell on wheels that it did. (now chatting about when we're going to Ava's house and stopping an argument between the big 2, who are trying to talk at the same time). We would have laughed with each other, ignored what we couldn't prevent, and distracted our children from their meltdowns (have been requested to make a paper aeroplane).......

..... but in reality, in that moment, the moment of pure rage and frustration at the stupid bloody Audi driver in front of you, when you've been in the car for 45 minutes already and the kids bickering is turning into full-on meltdown, when you just want someone, somewhere, to give you a parking space so you can get out of the car and actually breath, in that moment, all control and thought for correct parenting procedures leaves your body and you just shout. Why can't they just be quiet? I don't want to be stuck in the car either. No, I can't just 'go' because there's a bloody stupid bastard Audi in front of me and he's waiting for a space. No, I don't have any more biscuits. Freya, stop poking your sister. Anya, please just stop whinging. Edie, where did your dummy go? Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!! And then, you start arguing with your other half, because he's swearing too much, or yelling too loudly, or getting even more frustrated at the other drivers around him..... (got to make Freya a paper aeroplane now)

... at some point, though, either because you actually start moving or because the children fall asleep or you  just give-up caring and allow yourself to smile through the chaos, it usually gets better. Hopefully this occurs before you get out of the car and abandon your whole family in favour of a walk along the beach by yourself and a cup of tea somewhere, all alone (not that I thought about it much, honestly!). You all calm down, you reconcile, you get where you were going (or go somewhere else), and you might actually enjoy yourself.

Aside from the travelling chaos, though, holiday was a lovely time. The kids loved having their cousins to play with, and I enjoyed having lots of grown-ups and older children to help look after the little ones. We discovered that all 3 of the children just LOVE the beach, and Freya learnt to ride a bike without stabilisers. Edie has learnt to say loads of new words, including everyone's names, and is a right little chatterbox now (sigh... making a crown, this could take a while).

I think the only other thing that hubby and I missed, was time to ourselves, and time with each other. It's hard when you're sharing a house with other people, even people you get on well with. We had Edie sleeping in our bedroom, so we couldn't spend evenings alone in our room chatting and unwinding, and when communal areas are always full of other (very lovely) people, it's hard to talk honestly with each other and can be awkward to show affection. And as far as anything physical goes, well, there's something about a toddler rolling over and snoring or threatening to wake up that is rather off-putting! We have talked since we got back and realise that we lacked time together, but also sort of accept that there wasn't much we could have done about it. We have reminisced about holidays before children, when we would go for a 'lie down' in the afternoon, or just enjoy time sitting and chatting by ourselves. They were great times, but our family wasn't complete with just the two of us. Holidays with children (especially young children) are not relaxing, but they are nonetheless enjoyable. Tony and I have spent a lot of quality time together since being home, we even went out for dinner last night! Get us!! :-)

So, we are home now, and have been for a week. I have been making efforts to organise play-dates and day trips and activities, just so that we are out of the house at least once a day, even if just for an hour. I find the enemy of good school holidays is staying at home and trying to have a 'quiet' day. I am knackered, but the kids are happy(ish) and I think we have so far managed to avoid some arguments. Plus I'm not quite as close to insanity as I could be, which is a plus! 

(It's 09.36 now, and I have to go and have a shower and get dressed, or we'll never make it to church on time. We haven't been for weeks and I'm starting to feel guilty, I guess I'll finish this later!)

Right, now it's 19.41 and the kids are in bed, so I can finish this!

It's not that trips out of the house, even to the park, are without their challenges. There's always at least one meltdown a day (I'm looking at you, Anya), and these usually occur when you're just on your way out. And that's after all of the 'I need a wee', 'I need a poo', 'I can't find my shoes', 'I don't want to wear a hat', 'can I ride my bike?'. Plus sun cream, packing a bag, changing nappies, making a picnic etc. Even a simple 'day out' can take longer to prepare for than it actually lasts once you get there. But these breaks from the house, these times out, and the happiness that comes from telling the children that you are going somewhere (and the associated bribery potential i.e. 'if you don't go to sleep now, we're not going to the cinema in the morning'), make it all worth it. Even if you have to put up with tantrums and screaming and meltdowns about the wrong jumper in order to actually get there, 9 times out of 10 it is worth it, because you all have a good time and there's usually less fighting than there would have been if you'd have stayed at home. Plus you get to earn 'mum points' by being fun and feel smug as you post those carefully selected photos on Facebook (#myworld)

#myworld

So, with 2 weeks to go, I don't feel bad in admitting that I have not loved every minute of having my little darlings at home, but I haven't hated it either. There have been days when I have wanted to tear my own ears off, just to get away from the incessant whining, but there have also been some quality times spent enjoying my children's company. Plus, not having to get out of the house by 8.30am every morning has been amazing, and I think September will come as a bit of a shock to the system. I guess I just have to keep trying to make the most of it, and reminding myself that they won't be this age forever (thank the Lord!), and that the holidays won't last much longer. In the meantime, I'm going to keep distracting them from their will to kill each other by arranging days out and craft activities (as long as they're not super-messy activities, nobody has time for that shit, right?!).

I hope all my fellow Mummies and Daddies are surviving and, perhaps, even enjoying their school holidays.... not long to go now! ;-)

A note from Edie

We're off on holiday shortly with some members of my family, including my nieces and nephew, who are a bit older than my kids. I decided Edie (my 18 month old), should explain a bit about herself, so they know what to expect! (Really I just thought it would make them laugh - they're brilliant with her and she loves them to bits)

"Hi! Edie here, since we're going to be roomies for the next couple of weeks, I thought I ought to tell you a bit about me!

1. I'm loud – sorry about that! If I'm yelling, it's usually because I want something (see points 2, 3, 4, 5) but can't communicate with you effectively. Just ignore me or get my mum or dad if you don't know what to do with me – Mummy says I am a 'rampaging Id', whatever the heck that means
2. If you're eating, I'll want it, so be prepared to share or be screamed at if I see you eating (Mummy tends to hide from me if she wants a snack!)
3. If you have a ball, I want it. That other ball? No good, I want the one you're playing with. Again, tell my mum or dad if I'm being annoying.
4. You know that toy that I touched earlier? If you pick it up, I'll probably want it back. It's OK by my parents if you don't give it to me, because I can't always get what I want, but think about it carefully, because not giving it back to me will lead to point 1.
5. If you value your possessions, don't leave them where I can reach them, because I won't be gentle with them. I love to play with DS's, game discs, phones, books, all sorts of stuff I'm not supposed to have, and I play rough. I also chew things. Mummy and Daddy will take anything off me I'm not allowed to have, but that usually leads me back to point 1
6. I can reach higher than you think
7. Twirywoos almost always works as a distraction. We have 2 DVDs with us, I hope someone has a DVD player, or mummy says we're screwed.
8. If I hit you or bite you or hurt you in any way, even if it doesn't really hurt, feel free to say 'no, Edie that's naughty' in your sternest voice. I'll probably just ignore you, but it's worth a try, Mummy is really trying to stop me from being a bully. If I do cry, don't feel bad – you're helping to make me a decent human being, so it's all good.
9. I'm faster than you think
10. I like to 'help' with the dishwasher. Mummy will ask you to keep it properly closed, so I can't get stuff out by myself, but she's no fun really!
11. 'Nummy' means dummy – you will probably hear this word a lot. Mummy is meant to be weaning me off my dummy, but she says that can wait until after holiday, otherwise all our ears will be bleeding by the end of week 1 (see point 1).
12. I hope you like backwash, because I love sharing drinks :-D I am allowed to drink most things, just nothing fizzy (or alcoholic!)
13. I get cranky mostly when I'm either tired or hungry (if I'm both then it's even worse). However, I like to resist naps as I think they're really boring. Mummy will try and make me nap so I'm happy and fun right through until bed time, but that might mean you listening to me whinge and Mummy swearing under her breath for a little while, until I finally give in and go to sleep. We'll try not to disturb you too much!
14. I now like to tell people when I'm having a poo. Please alert one of my parents should this situation arise.

I know we're going to have the best holiday! If all else fails, just give me a biscuit ;-)"

Sorry, but you're not having this one...

It's that time of year when many parents are getting all emotional and blathering on about how precious their little babies are and the fact that they 'don't know where the time has gone' and 'can't believe little Jimmy is starting school already'. I have always been rather scathing about the whole Facebook outpouring; I mean, it's not like they are the first person ever to send their kid off into the big wide world of primary school, is it? It's not as if their 4 year old is going off to war or down the mines or anything, they're just taking the next step in life, and it's all for the good because they're going to learn and make friends and have fun (we hope).

Funnily enough, my opinion of it all didn't really change when my eldest went to school. By the time she started (at only just 4 years old), I had a 2 year old and another baby on the way. I was juggling work and household tasks and looking forward to a new baby, and I was more than ready for her to go to school. So my disdain for the parents publicly crying at those first school drop-offs, or at the last day of playschool, was not quelled much by the fact that I was also going through it. (Note to parents, it's OK if your heart doesn't break when your little one goes off to school, there's nothing wrong with you!). To be perfectly honest, I'm not a crier. Don't get me wrong, I occasionally cry, but usually it's at home, alone, where no one can see me. If anyone is present it's usual the hubby, and it's usually because I'm trying to emotionally blackmail him or something! So it's not surprising that I wasn't an emotional wreck when the big one went to school.

HOWEVER my middle one is starting school in September. She's just turned 4 in the last couple of weeks, she had her inductions at her school this week, it's her last day at play school tomorrow, and I'm an emotional wreck. I'm still not publicly crying or anything, it's not that bad, but I feel all wobbly on the inside and I'm so not ready for her to go to school. Her? Oh, she's fine. She has LOVED her inductions and has been all excitement and smiles. She evens tells me that she'll still see her playschool teachers when she goes back to pick Edie up and things like that. And she's is SO ready for school. She's young, yes, but (if possible for a 4 year old that says 'willies' all the time) she is mature for her age. She is so desperate to learn, and with 2 other children, I don't have much time to teach her. She will thrive, I am sure, and she has already got some friends. So it's not her that's the issue, it's me.

But why? I've been here before, I still have a younger child at home, so why am I so desperate to cuddle her close to me and say 'sorry education system, you're not having this one yet'? Maybe it's because I'm worried she's going to turn into a child like her big sister? I don't mean to speak badly of my eldest, but I know that school tires her out and uses all of her 'good behaviour' for the day, so when she gets home from school she is tired and shouty and grumpy. I'm not sure I'm ready for another child like that in the afternoons. Maybe it's because I'm not sure how I'll cope with only a toddler for company? Edie doesn't really talk that much yet, and I'm worried I might go a but nuts being at home without much conversation all day!

I think a lot of it has to do with my personal life. Anya has made some lovely friends at playschool, and because of that I have just started to form some good friendships of my own. I feel like I am having the potential for those friendships to develop and become stronger, taken away from me because all of them are going to different schools and keeping in touch is hard. I also want Anya to keep her friendships with these children, because they are so important to her at the moment, but I have also enjoyed making friends off my own back. Don't get me wrong, I have some amazing, long-standing, friends who my world would simply collapse without, but making new friends (without my sister or my existing friends introducing me to people) has never been my strong suit - I have a tendency to rub people up the wrong way with my 'speak first, think later' approach! So now that I have made friends, I want to keep them.

I think it also has much to do with my underlying fear of change. I've never been good with change, and this feels like a major one; it's a change in my every day, a change in the dynamic of our family life, a change that means my middle one is growing up. Of course, it is inevitable, and I understand that I cannot stop it. I could delay her start, as she isn't 5 until next year, but what would be the point? I would feel like I was holding her back because of my own feelings, and that wouldn't be fair.

Mostly though, I feel sad and weepy because I will miss her. She is my little friend, my baking buddy, the source of much of my laughter and I will miss her being here. I know I will get used to it, but right now it makes me sad to think about it.

So, parents that cry in the playground and cover Facebook in status' about how upset you are - I get it. And although you won't see me crying or harping on about it, I'm there. I'm with you, I'm looking at the teacher and wondering if she will notice my child, if she will care for her enough, if she will understand her sense of humour, if she will encourage her when she's unsure. And I'm looking at my little one and wanting to just hold her tight and not let her go. I want to freeze time and keep her with me, just as she is, forever.

Stay strong parents, by Christmas you'll be longing for the holidays to be over so you can send them back :-)

The unobtainable ideal of parenting (according to Cbeebies)

Hands up everyone who's kids watch far too much TV?! I mean, to be fair, that's too much TV according to people who probably don't have kids, or have far more patience than me or something. Anyway, my kids watch a fair amount of Cbeebies (and also Milkshake on Channel 5 before school), I love that my 18 month old will now happily sit in front of an episode or 2 (or 6) of Twirlywoos, while I make dinner or type something up for playschool or some such. But, apart from the usual parent complaints of many of the shows being utter dross (what the actual f*ck is Teacup Travels and why am I forced to have it on my TV?!), I have also noticed that many of them share something that could (if I let it) reinforce any negative thoughts I have about my parenting ability, and it's this: they all have parents that are always calm, understanding, forgiving and unquestionably wonderful.

Topsy and Tim? Well, their parents are well spoken, never yell, explain everything sensibly and always have time for colouring in their own wrapping paper, or making a costume for a party or something.
Peter Rabbit? Now, his mum is a funny one; she regularly tells him not to do something, that he then does, and she says 'thank you for getting the radishes' and says he's so like his father. Am I mistaken, or wasn't his father turned into a pie by Mr McGregor? Why in the hell would she want him to be like that? I'd have grounded that stupid, disobedient little git years ago.

And don't get me started on how Flop never calls Bing an idiot or says 'I bloody well told you so', when Bing pops his balloon or breaks his 'eggy head'. And that time Bing broke Flops mobile phone? What parent alive wouldn't have raised their voice, even if it was an honest accident? Not Flop though, he just sits there and says 'oh dear'. You know what? It IS a big thing Bing. It chuffing well is. (As an aside, I'm not entirely sure what the relationship is between Bing and Flop. Is he like, his carer? Is Bing some sort of foster child? Why are all the children being raised by small knitted characters anyway? Is this some sort of world where people get smaller as they get older, or have the small characters somehow stolen the children in order to raise them into their cult or something? It's very morally ambiguous, if yo
u ask me). I guess at least Bing behaves like a fairly normal child, peeing himself and arguing with his friends and stuff, not like the aforementioned Topsy and Tim, who seem to be unrealistically well behaved, maybe that's why their parents never have to yell? Who knows.

What's really tragic is that I increasingly find myself saying 'be more like Flop, stay calm' - I'm thinking about actually getting a 'What Would Flop Do' bracelet made to help me to stay calm and reasonable in my every day life. Because, if we're honest, we all shout sometimes. We all lose our temper, sometimes without much justification, because we are all human. No matter how much you love your children, or how much you are certain they are the centre of your world, sometimes, they're just little gits. They get on your nerves, they push you to your limit and you snap sometimes. And that's OK. I mean, if you do nothing BUT yell, then you might need some anger management or something, but generally speaking yelling is perfectly normal, trust me.  I bet when the camera's aren't rolling on the set of Peppa Pig*, Mummy and Daddy Pig are having a conversation about how much of a bratty cow-bag Peppa has been today, and asking why George is being such a whingey scrote. I like to think that Mummy Pig is looking forward to a night out with Miss Rabbit and Mummy Sheep, where they'll drink wine and complain about their partners and kids and ask advice on how to make their children less douchey.

The important thing to remember is, no matter if they're sometimes the only adult interaction you get in a day or a week, Cbeebies parents aren't real. If they were, they'd probably be a lot more yelly and sweary, and I'd probably like them a whole lot more!


*I am aware that Peppa Pig is not on Cbeebies, but that show has a lot to answer for too, how no one has ever called Peppa out on being the biggest know-it-all around, or told her to stop being an insufferably spoilt little shit, is beyond me.

The Division of Labour (and associated frustrations)

My husband and I have what I would call a very '1950's' style relationship, we're married, he works and I stay at home with the kids. Some would call it traditional, some old fashioned, maybe even patriarchal. However you view it, it is what it is and it works for us.  When I first fell pregnant, my husband was earning significantly more money than me, so it made sense for me to go part-time. By continuing to work, he was able to progress slightly and gradually start earning a bit more, meaning that after our third child was born, I was able to make the decision not to return to work. Money is tight, but it's how we both wanted to do things, at least until all 3 children are at school.

Whether you and your partner have a relationship like ours, or you both work full time, or anywhere in between, if you are in a relationship, the tension that can sometimes occur regarding the division of labour around the home is not unique to us. I want to tell you how it works in our house, and even if your family set-up is not quite the same as mine, I think there will be parts of it that ring true.

So, as a stay-at-home mother, my 'job' is basically that of logistics. I am responsible for maintaining a home, getting the kids washed, dressed and fed (why do they need THREE meals a day?!). I have to run them to school play-school, clubs, doctors appointments and parties etc. I attend school assemblies, play school 'stay and play' sessions and toddler groups. I have to take the cats to the vet, liaise with the letting agent when things need doing around the house, do the weekly (and top-up) shops, buy birthday presents and so on (the list is basically endless). I do all of this, and I volunteer as a Committee Chairperson for my daughter's Pre-School, which involves the odd meeting, typing, mediation, that sort of thing. Needless to say, my job is not 9-5, it's pretty much 24/7. And it's usually done on about 5 or 6 hours sleep. Motherhood is definitely the hardest job I've ever had, and, of course, it's not just motherhood. Since not working, my role as 'wife' has taken on more elements, such as being solely responsible for washing his clothes, and picking up his prescriptions or family's birthday cards and gifts, for example.

Some days I feel like I don't stop from the minute I am rudely awoken by the children, to the minute I go to bed. And when my husband comes home from work, eats his lovingly prepared dinner and then sits on his arse and plays on his phone, I could scream at him. Can he not hear the children fighting and screaming? Can he not see the washing-up that needs doing, can he not put his own chuffing plate in the kitchen? Why can't he see how stressed I am and help me a bit, doesn't he care?! (I should point out that he doesn't actually do nothing, it just that whatever he does isn't enough!) I have tried to explain it by looking at it a different way:

Imagine you're at work in an office. You've been working since 8am to meet a deadline by 5pm, things keep going wrong, the phone keeps ringing, people keep giving you other stuff to do and you're behind. On top of all that, at 4.30pm, your computer crashes. Now imagine that at 4.45pm, your colleague wanders in eating a taco, sits down at his desk next to you and starts looking at Facebook. How would you feel? Would you look at your colleague and imagine smashing his little face against his computer keyboard because he's failing to help you? Would you feel like he obviously doesn't care about you?  Never mind what kind of day he's had up until that point, you can only see your stress, your struggle and your worries. Take that feeling, and transfer it to a stay-at-home parent at the end of his or her tether, when the working parent gets home from work. 

When my husband gets home from work, I feel that he should almost relieve me of my work as main parent. That he should come in as a calming influence in my chaotic day and say 'let me do that dear' and other such things. I feel like I want my working day to stop, so I can sit down and look at my phone in peace, or just catch-up on the news or something.

And yet, isn't that entirely unfair?! I remember what it was like to work full-time, although it has been 6 years since I last did that. I know how it feels to work, to go through a stressful day at the office and to want to just sit, process the day and chill the hell out when you get home. When I worked part-time, my husband would have every-other Thursday off work and would look after the kids. I remember being annoyed if they weren't fed when I got in, I remember hating it if I came home to anything other than calm, and being irritated when he seemed to expect me to take over as soon as I got in. Parenting is hard, but working a full-time job is no walk in the park either. It's tiring, and although I may be physically and emotionally tired by the end of the day, my husband is more than likely mentally tired too. Also, I am incredibly appreciative of the fact that my husband has NEVER asked me what I've done all day, or implied in any way that the state of the house isn't good enough. He tells me regularly that I have the harder job out of the two of us, and admits he would struggle to do it (although I'm sure he'd be fine, once he got used to it).

And what about weekends? I think this is the place where a lot of couples can struggle most. I mean, I want a day off. I work my arse off all week getting everyone where they need to be, and keeping the house presentable etc, and when it gets to the weekend, I'd like to not have to do that. In the same way, my husband has been at work all week and wants a day to relax and unwind. While it can often seem that he should be relishing getting to spend some precious time with his kids, I have to try and appreciate that 'relaxing and unwinding' is not something that is easily achieved with kids about! I should know, they stress me out no end!

I guess in an ideal world, weekends would be shared parenting days. I would like it to be that way, anyway. Where chores and childcare are split 50/50. But in reality, despite best efforts, that rarely happens. The thing is, if I ask him to do something, he will do it (eventually!), but most of the time it's just quicker and easier to do it myself. I have a system and a routine that works for me and the kids, and if he 'helps' it usually just throws everything off balance... I'm honestly not trying to complain, just saying it how I feel it is.

So what do we do? Well, we try and remember to appreciate each other's contribution to the family. The effort it takes to raise children and look after a home, as well as how much of a ball ache it is to go to work. We try and express our appreciation and we try and talk through our frustrations. It doesn't always work, we still get moody with each other, he thinks I'm a nag and I still think he's a lazy arse sometimes, but we try. We also take it in turns to 'lay in' past 7am at the weekends and in putting the kids to bed. We also sometimes take the kids to our respective parents' houses, to allow the other a break. 

I also plan the occasional day out with friends, leaving him with the kids for 10 hours or so by himself. I find it helps me to unwind and get a break, and reminds him how hard my job is ;-)

"There's nothing wrong with being ginger"

"There's nothing wrong with being ginger". This is an expression I hear quite often, because I have a redheaded daughter. And yet, if people truly believe that, then why do they even feel the need to say it? I agree entirely, there IS nothing wrong with having ginger hair, but I also understand that it is a cause of bullying and piss-taking. I know this because I have been guilty of it myself, in the past, and know of others who still are.  It's not that people actually care about the colour of someone else's hair, it's that human beings will find anything they can that's different about someone, and use it against them if they want to. Especially children; whether it's that kid with glasses, the one with 2 mums, the one with tatty shoes or the one with the red hair, kids are particularly good at being arseholes. But it seems that with redheads, this prejudice continues into adulthood, to a certain extent.

When Anya was born via c-section, I was lucky enough to have my mum (a midwife) in theatre with me, as well as my husband. My mum helped to bring Anya into this world, and held her even before my husband and I did. At the moment that Anya emerged from my womb, the first thing I remember my mum saying was 'Lucy, she's ginger!'. My mum doesn't dislike people with ginger hair, and she certainly loves her Anya to absolute bits (they're craft making buddies!), but I will wager that if Anya had been blonde or brunette, hair colour wouldn't have been mentioned in that first moment. It's one of those things that everyone has to comment on. Perhaps it's just because red hair is rare (only 4% of the population have it), or because no one in my family has ever been a red head, (or perhaps because my husband had joked about having a redhead prior to us having children), but whatever the reasoning, Anya being ginger was/is definitely a talking point. (Hi mum, by the way, love you!).
I should be clear, no one has, as yet, spoken badly about my Anya's hair colour, but everyone makes a thing of it. Whether it's little old ladies who say 'hasn't she got gorgeous hair', or people asking 'where does her hair colour come from?',everyone notices it. Sometimes I joke that she's out little ginger-ninja, and then I get "aw, there's nothing wrong with being ginger". I don't think people think it looks bad, I just think everyone knows that it can be a source of piss-taking, and they therefore feel sorry for her. I do, however, think it helps that she's a girl, I think being a ginger boy would be harder, boys seem to pick on each other more with regard to physical characteristics, even into adulthood.

So what's the problem? Well, I worry. I worry because people are shits and before she was even born, Anya had something that the bullies in this world could use against her. I worry because I regularly see and hear jokes about ginger people, and I hear people talking about redheads in a negative way. I'm all for a bit of light-hearted micky-taking, and as an adult that may be fine, but for children it can be so hard. And I want, as we all do, for my children to always be happy. I cannot protect my children from all of the difficulties they will face growing up, but I feel that Anya already has an extra hurdle to overcome, because, at some point, someone will be mean to her about her hair, and that's just not fair. I am probably worrying with little reason, she seems to be to be a strong-headed child (is that the red hair gene?!), who will find a way to cope with whatever life throws at her, and I hope she will see bullies for the insecure people that they really are. Besides, what child doesn't have something about them that makes them 'stand out'?

I really hope that we are becoming a more tolerant society, when it comes to diversity and difference. Today's world already seems like a different one to that which I grew up in, in terms of equality.  I don't think, for one second, that I can compare being a redhead to the struggles of those persecuted groups in society, but there is still an element of ingrained prejudice amongst people surrounding being ginger, otherwise no one would have to comment on it at all. My mother-in-law insisted for a long time that Anya's hair 'isn't ginger, it's auburn', like that was better. But if there's nothing wrong with being ginger, why does it matter? (FYI, 'auburn' and 'ginger'? Pretty much the same thing).

Interestingly, as an aside, different parts of the world view red hair differently, but in the UK (where it is more prevalent than many other countries), it has a rather negative connotation. 
This article has some interesting facts about being a redhead! https://thegingerrevolutionmovement.wordpress.com/2011/12/09/ginger-facts-myths/


I suppose all I can do is hope that I'm worrying about nothing (as is often the case as a parent), but be there to support Anya if I'm not. To me, and all who know her, she will always just be the funny, smart and brilliant Anya, red hair and all.




Right, now to write a blog about why the chuff her hair hasn't grown and how that makes me worry, even though it looks like she couldn't give less of a shit.......

Personal Space Invaders

There's no denying that kids like cuddles. And that's great, who doesn't like cuddling their child/ren? Picking them up and comforting them when they're sad? Yep, got that down. Holding hands? Check. Tickling? OK. Kisses? Of course!! BUT treating Mummy like a climbing frame, elbows in boobs, heel in crotch, pulling on hair? Not so much. Climbing on me when I'm trying to do something? Holding onto the back of my trousers the whole time we're out? Poking, prodding, randomly touching? No thanks.



I'm pretty sure no parent likes to be accidentally kicked in their special place, but for me I feel it's something a bit more than that. I guess I've always had a bit of a 'thing' about physical contact. Don't take that the wrong way, I have 3 children, so I obviously don't hate it that much, but I like it to be on my own terms. I've been trying to find a way to write this without sounding weird or prudish, and I think all I can say is that, on a good day, I'm fine and 'normal', but on a stressful or difficult day, the last thing I want is to have my personal space invaded. I find physical contact to be a bit awkward, unless it's with someone I know extremely well, and I find people touching me to be very affronting. On days where I have felt harassed or overwhelmed, I don't want to have physical contact with anyone. If I'm stressed, I like to be left alone. If I'm sad, I like a hug and then to be left alone. I would imagine that I'm not alone in this way of feeling. Most people like their personal space, especially when stressed, and everyone has different levels of what feels like an invasion of their space. My threshold for personal space invasion just happens to be rather low.

So, what happens when someone like me, someone who likes my personal space to be very much my own, has a child or 3? Well, as babies they're OK, they cuddle and lay still and just squirm a little bit, but not too much. And when they're on you it's because you picked them up and put them there. But I tell you, most days, the thought of 'wearing' my baby makes me shudder, and I have always been more of a 'let them have their own space' kind of parent. Maybe that's why me and breastfeeding didn't get along, because the idea of having something permanently attached to me makes my skin crawl. 

And then they get older, and you quickly learn that kids don't understand personal space. They get right into yours and hang around like they own the place. They're all in your face, touching your body and wiggling about on you and stuff, like they have a right to touch you wherever and whenever they want to. And I hate it. I love to cuddle them, as long as they stay still. I will comfort them when they are hurt or upset, I will carry them when they need it and I will tickle them and give them kisses and cuddles, but if they try and climb up my arse while I'm doing the dishes, I will get them to stop it as soon as I can. If they're sitting on me and writhing about and sticking their pointy bits into my tummy or whatever, I usually have to get up and do something, just to get them to stop.

I struggled with this for a long time. I wondered if not wanting to physically be in contact with my children 100% of the time made me a bad parent, or somehow neglectful. I berated myself for not really wanting to breastfeed, even though everyone told me it was what was best for my babies. I thought I should revel in wearing a sling and carrying my baby everywhere, but I couldn't do it. I thought maybe I would be seen as cold or uncaring, if I asked my children to 'get off me', and that I should be able to accept them climbing on me every single time I sit down for 30 seconds. That somehow I should relish it, like I am meant to relish every other fucking moment of parenthood. But I couldn't, because that's not me. I feel claustrophobic around too many people and too much noise, and having a pile of kids on top of me makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I feel like I have to get out of that situation, and it causes me physical stress. I can't ever see how having a stressed parent is good for a child.

Now the good news, for anyone like me! 6 years into parenthood and my kids seem fine. They are not displaying any signs of being neglected, so I guess I can't be that bad! Our family life is far from perfect, but there is laughter and silliness amongst the chaos, and I do not doubt that my children feel loved.  I suppose what I have come to realise is that not all emotional warmth is physical; not all love is displayed through touch (although some people are more tactile than others). I've always found nice words and someone that listens to me far more agreeable than someone giving me a hug (for example). My children need hugs, they need physical contact to help reassure them and they need to occasionally be allowed to climb on me, for whatever reason. But they also need to learn to respect other people's personal space and to understand that sometimes, people just need to be left alone. I'm fairly sure that they don't listen when I ask them to get off me most of the time anyway, so they probably don't even realise that I don't enjoy it. As they get older they'll want to have physical contact with me less and less. I will miss cuddles, but I will not miss being their climbing frame or wrestling mat. I hope as they grow they will know that although I am always here with a hug when they need it, my love for them is expressed through the actions and decisions I take every single day.