We've had a rather busy few weeks, with plastering, painting, cupboard building, skirting board and picture rail fitting and general chaos. It's taken its toll on all of us, and something had to give, so for me it was my internet addiction. Perhaps not such a bad thing, as it's meant I've spent more time with my husband and less time staring at the computer screen!
My big "news" is that I am now unemployed - I had been on long term sick leave and childcare problems (plus my fragile state of mind) have made it impossible for me to go back to work, at least in the short term. This means I now have the joyful task of filling in my application for Carers Allowance, which once again brings home to me how much I do for James.
It's the second week of the school holidays and I'm frazzled - I usually complain that the nursery session isn't enough time for me to get anything done/spend time with Bea/have a cup of tea, but it's now that it's not there that I really miss it. Luckily James has had a few sessions at the special needs playscheme, so we weren't in the house while the carpenter was around this week. Last week I had a couple of days to spend with Bea and whilst I loved every minute of our 4 hours together it drove home the reality of how hard I find spending time with both children together. Whenever I take James somewhere new I find I'm constantly on edge as I'm not familiar with the layout, particularly the danger zones. He has absolutely no sense of danger and is like a 14 month old trapped in the body of a 5 year old. He still runs in front of swings (and has been knocked down several times) and is drawn to water and the exit gates. I have a vivid memory of having to hold a rather bemused Bea like a rugby ball (she was around 5 months old at the time) while I dashed to the gates of a local park where some "helpful" man had let James wander through (he'd actually held the gate open for him and let him pass - I was livid). This was pre-diagnosis but it's no better now. Because James couldn't let anyone know he was lost or give his name or any other details I can't let him out of my sight. I did buy some IdentiKids wristbands for him ages ago but he didn't like them on his wrist and chewed through them (and with all the chewing the ink ran so even if they'd stayed on the number wasn't legible!!!). Maybe I'll try them on his ankle next time.... So the thought of taking both children out on my own brings me out in a cold sweat - now that Bea is more active and testing the boundaries I find it impossible to keep both of them safe and occupied. Even at home I can't seem to get it right - if I sit down to do a planned activity with him she wants to join in (and can usually do it more easily than he can - it's both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time to see your 4 and a half year old being shown how to roll out play dough by his 22 month old sister....). As soon as Bea comes near him he loses interest and runs away or throws everything off the table or refuses to participate. If I am sitting down to try and do something with Bea, then he'll usually suss out that I'm preoccupied and find something inappropriate to get up to like chewing through loaves of bread still in their packet or pouring water all over the kitchen floor. A friend asked me how I spend my afternoons and we decided that the best way to describe it would be "damage limitation". I wish I had an extra pair of hands so I could keep them both entertained and safe. Which is why I think I'd be an octopus - I'd have enough arms to look after everyone AND I could give myself a pat on the back at the same time!
Showing posts with label nursery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nursery. Show all posts
Tuesday, 15 April 2008
Monday, 18 February 2008
Painting with Pesto...
You just know what I'm going to write don't you? The title's a bit of a giveaway....
When James started nursery in September I remember feeling the tinge of sadness that most mummies feel on the first day they send their child to school or nursery. Except mine was tinged with a lot of worries and concerns that most mummies don't have to contend with - how will they get him to sit down, who will understand him when he does speak, will he let his keyworker change his nappy, how many changes of clothes should I send him with. This last question still challenges me - I find that however many items I send him in with, he comes home with the same number of dirty items. My washing basket is constantly overflowing - at this rate we'll need a new machine before this one reaches statutory school age.... My feelings of sadness were also mixed with guilt - no matter how much time I'm able to give James, it's always going to be combined with the pressures of running a household and looking after both him and his sister. In the months before he started nursery I felt I was unable to give him the amount of time he needed - he needs constant one to one attention during his waking hours and this is exhausting at the best of times. Add in a demanding 14 month old and I honestly felt I needed to clone myself. It was a rare occasion that I could get him interested in anything I was doing - he would rather jump on the trampoline or run up and down the garden than participate in any organised (and I use that term loosely) activity. I would try and get him interested in painting or colouring to no avail. When I brought home his first painting from nursery I sat in the car and cried my eyes out - I felt that it ought to be me who was spending time painting with him and that it was another thing to show me how neglectful I had become. Yes, I'm very good at self flagellation as I'm sure you'll notice as you get to know me....
Over the last 4 months James has shown more and more interest in creative activities - for the first time ever we have a wall of his beautiful and precious art work. OK, so the standard is about the same level as Bea's but it's the fact it exists that matters, not the quality. At a friend's house today the toddlers were playing with an Aquadraw painting mat (a genius invention if ever one existed - it uses water so your walls are safe!) and James picked up a brush and proceded to produce some pretty determined brush strokes. I tried to paint his feet but he dissolved into a fit of giggles when the brush went near his toes so we turned that into a game instead.
This creative bug has got some drawbacks, however, and we had another of our "incedents" this evening. I had left the jar of pesto next to the hob after I made the children their supper. After supper Bea wanted to watch her favourite programme, In the Night Garden, so I went to the playroom and turned on the television for her. I thought James had followed us but then realised he was rather quiet - I don't need to tell you the rest do I? Thankfully my husband got home a few moments later and after a bath and a mop you wouldn't know anything had happened....
When James started nursery in September I remember feeling the tinge of sadness that most mummies feel on the first day they send their child to school or nursery. Except mine was tinged with a lot of worries and concerns that most mummies don't have to contend with - how will they get him to sit down, who will understand him when he does speak, will he let his keyworker change his nappy, how many changes of clothes should I send him with. This last question still challenges me - I find that however many items I send him in with, he comes home with the same number of dirty items. My washing basket is constantly overflowing - at this rate we'll need a new machine before this one reaches statutory school age.... My feelings of sadness were also mixed with guilt - no matter how much time I'm able to give James, it's always going to be combined with the pressures of running a household and looking after both him and his sister. In the months before he started nursery I felt I was unable to give him the amount of time he needed - he needs constant one to one attention during his waking hours and this is exhausting at the best of times. Add in a demanding 14 month old and I honestly felt I needed to clone myself. It was a rare occasion that I could get him interested in anything I was doing - he would rather jump on the trampoline or run up and down the garden than participate in any organised (and I use that term loosely) activity. I would try and get him interested in painting or colouring to no avail. When I brought home his first painting from nursery I sat in the car and cried my eyes out - I felt that it ought to be me who was spending time painting with him and that it was another thing to show me how neglectful I had become. Yes, I'm very good at self flagellation as I'm sure you'll notice as you get to know me....
Over the last 4 months James has shown more and more interest in creative activities - for the first time ever we have a wall of his beautiful and precious art work. OK, so the standard is about the same level as Bea's but it's the fact it exists that matters, not the quality. At a friend's house today the toddlers were playing with an Aquadraw painting mat (a genius invention if ever one existed - it uses water so your walls are safe!) and James picked up a brush and proceded to produce some pretty determined brush strokes. I tried to paint his feet but he dissolved into a fit of giggles when the brush went near his toes so we turned that into a game instead.
This creative bug has got some drawbacks, however, and we had another of our "incedents" this evening. I had left the jar of pesto next to the hob after I made the children their supper. After supper Bea wanted to watch her favourite programme, In the Night Garden, so I went to the playroom and turned on the television for her. I thought James had followed us but then realised he was rather quiet - I don't need to tell you the rest do I? Thankfully my husband got home a few moments later and after a bath and a mop you wouldn't know anything had happened....
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