Tag Archives: parents

Blasting Off to where tiny people go

Working with children of all ages has its benefits and hardships. Meet me at the next stop on the blog tour where I share a bit about working with children who have cancer.

Lisa has already provided us with a place to land, so click on the pic to join the merry band.

lisa presents for preemies

Day Five – Space Dust has arrived…

At Trent’s blog, with saucy sea horses stealing the show, we can catch the canoe to explore those creative creatures found on a planet sporting seven rings. There’s so much more to these fantastic things than just performing daring loop-de-loops. Find out what their presence does to the reader.

So, click on the pic to find out more!

Monday Coffee

It’s a whirlwind Monday with everything going at full speed ahead. Sparing a thought for Thomas Cook and their troubles, I’m hoping our travel plans together don’t go awry. Where are we going? Well, we’re blasting off with Space Dust, of course! It’s time for the book’s blog tour to begin. Continue reading

I need a hero!

If you enjoyed Space Dust’s Little One and Big Ox, take a look at Hairington’s hairy hero, Babylock!
Risking it all to save the dome, he’s not afraid to find a creature strong enough to fight the Knotsvillians!

A tale of knots cover

What happens when Mum forgets to say good-bye?

The pressure of balancing work and home life is something most parents juggle on a daily basis. Sometimes the morning rush means good-byes are forgotten in the midst of drop offs and rushing to work. Little One is left behind with so many worries: will Mummy come back? Where has she gone? Why did she have to go?

All you need is Big Ox, his canoe and his absolute favourite spoon to take you away from your worries. Sail away into a world of fantasy and fact as Big Ox takes Little One on an adventure in space where they hope to wave hello to Mum and hopefully disperse those worries.

— Read on http://www.amazon.co.uk/Space-Dust-Eloise-Sousa/dp/0244808430/ref=mp_s_a_1_1

Monday Corrrfffeee!

It’s a beautiful day here in south east England and there’s a freshly boiled kettle waiting for us to fill our mugs. Join me in the garden for a coffee and catch up. Continue reading

Friday

It was a day of two halves… Continue reading

Leaving the nest

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. As we grow older, the memories of our youth jade ever so slightly, giving us that rosy vision of what has been.

As my eldest sprog prepares to fly the nest to University, I get the feeling I’m reliving my youth through him. Of course, one cannot avoid the pangs of heartache at the thought of said sprog leaving. He’s my eldest, the one I devoted unlimited time to and energy to; the one that resembles me the most personality-wise – so yes, we get on like fire and ice most days.

This doesn’t stop me from pulling out the memories of me at his age and how I felt about leaving home. I couldn’t wait! Home equalled a prison with burglar bars and ridiculous rules set to break even the sweetest and most obedient child in creation (that I was not). My parents’ loved us like anacondas love their food: suffocated and crushed.

My years spent mothering my sprogs should have given me a better perspective on my own parents and hindsight of my behaviour as a youth should soften my jaded perspective of their parenting skills. Instead, all I seem to do is fluctuate between mourning the loss of presence of my eldest before he goes and celebrating his freedom from our parenting shackles. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions and I am far from out of the woods because my next sprog will be journeying forth at the same time next year on her own adventure too.

My rosy reminiscence of my past definitely affects my present and I feel the need to go all out to make sure my sprog has a soft landing in the big ugly world – unlike my first experience. Deep down I know that no matter what I do, he will have his own vision of life and what it should offer and when he grows to into a ripe old prune like me, his rose-tinted perspective will shape how he waves good-bye to his offspring. And so the loop continues.

Therefore, no matter what we go through, our pasts will always affect our reactions to the present. I just hope I do enough today to ensure my sprogs’ opinions of me tomorrow leads to happier memories.

Easter Sticky Competition

After watching the scramble to prepare our school’s Easter Sticky Competition today, the memories of how the inspiration for Cecil the Bully came about flooded back to me with glorious giggles. Continue reading

My Sprog

I hate my son. No, I’m not being rhetorical or metaphorical; I literally hate him. I love him too, but probably not enough to rub out the hate. Here’s why…

Have you ever, as a mum or dad, dedicated your life, hope and dreams to a child’s development and wellbeing? Ever spent sleepless nights thinking the worst, wiping your tears away and getting up to check on said sprog, just in case they stopped breathing in their sleep? Well, I have. I am the tiger mom, the infernal nuisance at schools for all teachers and teaching assistants – I am the complainer that worries whether he received his coat on time for breaktime, his forgotten lunch box before lunch or his meds if he’s had to go back to school before I think he’s well enough. I’m your worst nightmare as an educator. At least, I was. I have changed as my sprog has gotten older. I’ve lost my sense of purpose, my fight, my passion.

Instead, I’ve been introduced to my worst nightmare, a creation of my own volition: a free thinking individual who has the intelligence to question me and my morals and call my up for my shortcomings. I have a person who refuses to be dominated by others, who does not buckle under peer pressure and who assumes authority in the household – my household – anytime I’m not around to rule the roost. I hate him!

He is the epitomy of everything I am not; he has the capability to stay true to his course when I flail about, thinking I should give up. He shows strengths in my weaknesses and makes me feel incompetent in my education. In other words, I feel dumb around him. Yet, I created this wonderful monster. 

So, what do I do?

Is it a case of inflating his ego further and telling him I am proud of his existence? Or do I belittle every little fault I find, exploding at every mistake made and celebrating every time he doesn’t reach a goal? What would you do with something like this living in your house, eating your food and making you feel inadequate?

Anyone else here hear my ego taking a beating?

Well, I do what I assume every other mom does, I just give up! I take a step back and let him lead when he needs to. Right now, he is standing over my two other sprogs, perfecting their piano pieces so that they don’t embarrass us (the family) at their next piano lesson. He walks into the kitchen and mutters a belittling remark about the curry I’ve cooked because he doesn’t like curry anymore. His personal beliefs refute the fact that he is part Goan. In his mind, he is British. 

I ignore the remark and think of how he is helping the other sprogs, what an inspiration he is getting all A’s and finding maths easy at A level, unlike me. But, as a parent, I can’t ignore the snarky remarks that make my older daughter cry, the continuous abuse of power because he is the eldest, the strongest and the most likely to outhink all of us who are too tired to fight. I think of the days when he disappears into his cave (bedroom) and refuses to eat family meals. And I hate him.

As a mother, it is hard to admit that the child who makes you feel the most is the one that hurts you the most. I’m hoping, no I’m praying that, in the future, he will return to the sweet little boy I protected and nurtured many years ago. 

But, am I hoping for the right thing? Am I actually celebrating the fact that my child does not do drugs, has a good sense of what’s right and wrong, and abuses it at home, but is there for us when we need him. Am I hating him for all the wrong reasons?

What do you think?