Discrimination and Ignorance was not why I was there

The whole world is on fire and we are fairly fucked here in the UK. I can't see past any of this to any kind of future and I don't understand how complacent and compliant people are being.

Fucking nurse at GP surgery refused to take my blood cos I wasn't wearing a mask. I have an exemption and have been in the practice many times before. Half the sodding country don't wear them anymore. It's just ludicrous and frustrating and stressful.

I definitely got poor health care. I wasn't able to talk to her about any of the things I was meant to be there for, because she was being such a *itch.  I said you can't deny me healthcare. She effectively said she could as she backed herself into a corner trying to keep away from me. I was already having a bad day and I was too upset, tired and depressed to even try talking to her and I just put the mask on to get out as fast as I could.

And there is your proof of division, discrimination and ignorance.

#hadenough

#naturalimmunityisbest

#DisabilityDiscrimination

No one is born in the wrong body. Fired Up one more time

The fucking Lancet are in on it now.....some fantastic responses from Posie Parker, Millie Hill and many more...add your WOMAN MOUTH WORDS.........✊😡

I became so fired up by this tweet and the responses from thousands upon thousands that I decided to take one last step.

After stopping discussing with my children or mentioning anything remotely about the dying off of women, feminism, misogyny, transing children, the terrible terrible agenda that is going on behind it all. I decided to have one last try.

I sat with them both and basically said, I want you to read this thread and understand the issue that is being presented here. Erasure of WOMAN right in front of your eyes from a well respected long running medical paper.

I was so sad that we have come so far but not far enough that our children have been pawned for it to come to this. 

I did my best to talk to them about how important this issue has become in the outer world world that there are people out there being persecuted and fired for speaking the truth. How biology really cannot simply be changed by saying so. 

#WomenWontWeesht 

#StandingforWoman

#itsallconnectedtothetransexplosion

#highestpercentofreferralsaregirlswithASD

https://twitter.com/TheLancet/status/1441372277786951681?t=jUSXe-vtmO0EKV_m4VKGFQ&s=19

blood on the carpet

 think you hit the nail on the head there... "I was told that i had great potential when I was a kid, something that I've never found but has condemned me to self-deprecation. So I don't want to impose that expectation on her"...how was it phrased to you, how has it shaped you...obviously enough to 'condemn' you, why did you never find it, lack of or too much 'encouragement'....this seems a trigger point for you, it would seem you have a fear of doing the same to your dd..understandable...i think this is half our issues ladies...finding out what our triggers were/are and redoing them a gentler, more respectful way to our own kids..you know so they don't get too *f&^5*UCKED* up!! its a flippin minefield out there and i am in pieces all over the carpet!

Meltdowns - probably so many

Losing the Plot - gone

Breastfeeding - most definitely

An old blog post I never published but had words from a friend I admired. 

Radical or Woman

I'm beginning to think I may be a radical feminist as well as a lactivist and even though I'm just a wannabe unschooler, I'm definitely a CC/AP parent and I'm starting to be actually quite settled with my choices these days. I'm not trying to deliberately hurt anyone, I'm not hating anyone, I feel I'm promoting more protection and understanding of children. I'm not enticing anyone to be evil.

I have to say though I'm not too sure with having a radical since it has such a negative connotation these days. With the actual definition of radical though, I'm happy with that. 

In the beginning women who wanted to wear trousers were radical. Women who wanted to vote were radical. Women who want to drive. Women who want to marry AND work. Women who want to have abortions, go to university, have bank accounts. Women who don't want to be raped or beaten within marriage and fight against the law. 

It all starts with women, women feeling undervalued, diminished and unequal. 

Let's remember what 'radical' feminism has achieved for women's rights and still is. Let's remember what women have fought and struggled for and still do in many countries. Let's remember what women had to and still sometimes do have to endure during pregnancy and labour and marriage and let's not forget that many women died for these causes. 

If I'm a radical, then so be it. I prefer woman. 

Woman who sees injustice and wants to see change.

Ellie's Home Birth Story 27th November 2006

The wail was primal, it was from somewhere else. I could feel it but I couldn't hear it, it was coming from me.  I had just been told my baby, my newborn, not yet a week old baby had to go back to hospital again as her jaundice levels had shot up.  We had only just returned home and were settling cosily back to home life. Let me start at the beginning.

Natural, earth-mother, secure, safe and home, these were the thoughts I had for my birth and my baby.  Due on the 21st December, we had a whole month to organise the house, to 'nest' and to be completely satisfied that our home was going to be the best environment to bring our baby into this world.  But of course nature works its wondrous ways and decided that our baby was arriving sooner.  Barry & I had had a house warming party the night before, the house was looking amazing, it was cosy, it was comforting, it was warmed by all our family and friends, who joked about how big I was and how earth mother I looked and how ready to drop, till well after midnight.  

We did a quick tidy up and went to bed at 3am, feeling happy and contented that we had hosted a wonderful and fun house warming party. In actual fact it turned out to be a baby warming party…the next morning at 10am, I woke up and 'woooosh' my waters broke, I stood up and was still leaking. Not believing that I could have wet myself, I woke Barry and told him. He seemed quite calm about it and said shall we phone the hospital – his stock response for the past few months to any ache or twinge! I, of course, took myself off to the toilet, still quite calm and not quite sure if this was happening. Next came the mucous plug... with slight tinges of blood, nothing worrying there either.  This all seemed a bit textbook to me, I know the plug can go and there can be delays, I know the waters can break and still nothing can happen. But for waters first, then plug... next would be contractions I thought... wouldn't that be hilarious!! Wouldn't that be real? But I was only 36+3, I wasn't ready, the house wasn't ready, the pool wasn't ready.  If it hadn't been for me pushing to get various things over the past few months, we would have had nothing.

I telephoned my sister (who was a midwife) and told her what had happened, for the next hour or so, I tried to explain what was happening, the consistency of mucus, the amount of blood, the amount of leakage. She asked me if I was having any pain. Pain? I thought as in back pain or ... oh hang on what was that... that felt tight across the bottom of my belly. I shall call these tightenings, not contractions, they can't be contractions, it just feels a bit tight.

I checked the baby's heartbeat and my temperature and my heartbeat in case of infection. This I did hourly from about 11am till 6pm. All was within normal ranges. I charted my 'tightenings' which were every 5-10mins for maximum a minute at a time. All the while I was talking to my sister on the phone letting her know the readings and confirming that things were still ok. By now it was pretty clear that this was not false labour and Barry had taken himself off to B&Q to sort out the pipes for the birth pool and Mothercare to get a floating temp gauge. He managed to take a wrong turn on the way home and ended up on the motorway to London. He was most upset and ended up over an hour late coming back. 

I meanwhile was permanently ensconced on our porta-potti as the baby was permanently ensconced on my bladder. That porta-potti turned out to be best thing we got for this labour. Every time I tried to move about I need to pee! It was so frustrating... .all my pre-natal yoga moves and aqua-natal practice was going to waste, I couldn't be in any other position except sat on the potti slumped forward on a big cushion propped on a chair!! But boy was I pleased I didn't have to traipse upstairs. In between peeing and 'tightenings', I fashioned myself a wee nest in the living room beside the heater with cushions and towels. I had a gathering of candles, light boxes and oil burners, which I had been collecting over the past weeks, and I laid them out in the back room where the pool was going to be. The pool which was still deflated, still empty but had at least been taken out its box (it needs to 'breathe' for 2hours before use, something we thankfully found out the week before).

During this time, I began calling my tightenings by their full and proper title. Contractions. When did that happen? Barry noticed it first and pointed it out to me. This was it I thought this is real. The pool was inflating and Barry was fixing taps onto hoses and hoses onto walls and I was still on my potti!

By 6pm, the pool was filling and things seemed to be going smoothly. Barry and I were timing contractions, which by now were longer and stronger. I called the hospital and told them I was in labour and they needed to send someone out. They tried to persuade me to come in to the hospital (because it was before 37 weeks), but I stood my ground and they said they would get back to me. How good of them, I thought!

Then disaster... .Barry forgot to turn off the tap in the pool and had it been running cold water for ages. The pool was almost half full, of cold water. This is when I began to panic, become upset and think this is not going to happen, whilst writhing on my 'nest'. This is when Barry started to panic inwardly, frantically empty the pool bucket by bucket and boil the kettle. All the while telling me things will be perfect, it's not a problem and he can fix it. And fix it he did. Phoning our best friend, who went to the supermarket and bought 4 kettles, he set to work boiling kettles and pots in order to refill the pool, whilst trying to be with me and help me through my contractions.

At 9pm the doorbell went and in walked the midwives. They said their obligatory 'we think you should go to the hospital' speech and, realising it wasn't going to happen, settled in for the duration.

(Note from Angela at Home Birth UK: Miriam's sister reports that Miriam actually responded "Thanks for your opinion; you will find me at home", which I think is an excellent way of dealing with the situation! The same midwife later told Miriam "You are too early in gestation for a waterbirth", to which she responded "Thanks for your opinion; you will find me in the pool".)

I obtained timings and figures later from my midwife as during the rest of the evening, I lost all concept of time and space. I was checked at 9.20pm and found to be 3cm dilated, cervix almost effaced and V+ 0-1.

For the next hour, I remained on my 'nest' and was mainly on my hands and knees, grasping Barry's hand and making incredible noises. I found that if I made moaning and groaning noises it helped the pain, so I did this for all I was worth. There was no high pitched screaming, just low guttural moaning, grunting and baying noises.

The pool was finally ready for me at 10.30pm and I was straight in there. Being the organised person I am, I had the previous day, sorted out what music I wanted for my labour. I opted for the drum and rain music and with my glowing light boxes and candles, the room was amazingly peaceful. I for one was not!!!!

This stage was the hardest, I was told not to push and it would increase my risk of tearing and so I had to blow out my contractions instead of pushing. Barry was incredible at this point and almost fainted himself with panting!! Every time I said I can't do this he was there saying I can. Every time I needed him to give me strength he was right there passing it to me.

At 00.30am I had strong rectal pressure and the midwives asked me to come out as I had been in the pool for two hours. They checked me and found I was fully dilated, V+0+1. They tried to ask me to stay out of the water as they were not comfortable with me giving birth in the water, saying don't you care about your baby, I politely declined, called her mean and 'ran' straight back in to the pool!!

I asked how long this next stage was going to be and when she told me it could be an hour I thought NOOOOoo way. So very soon after I felt a slight bulge and excitedly guided Barry's hand to touch it. He was astounded, I was astounded. It was amazing.

Then at 1.05am with one almighty push, the widest eyes I have ever made with the most astonished feeling I have ever felt, Ellie Rebecca slipped gently into the water. I remember seeing her in the water and my mind stopped. Everything literally stopped. For that split moment, nothing mattered, nothing moved, time was immobile. I gently scooped her up and cradled her in my arms. I blew gently into her face, she raised her eyebrows at me and gasped her first ever breath. In that moment Barry and I gasped our first ever breath too. I was so overawed I didn't even think to find out if she was a boy or girl. She lay peacefully in my arms until the cord stopped pulsating and was clamped by daddy Barry as he has now become.
I came out of the pool and thankfully delivered my placenta by 1.18am with no fuss whatsoever, the midwife gently pulled and out it came. Ellie weighed 6lb 11oz and had Apgar scores of 9/1 and 10/5. I had estimated blood loss 250ml, no tears.

Our first night in our own bed with Ellie Rebecca in between us was magical. We just could not believe what we had created.

Unfortunately, being early, Ellie had trouble feeding and became jaundiced, and we had to go to hospital the following day and we then spent the next week and half in and out of hospital with her having light treatment. As is the way in my life, it was one extreme to the other. All that I hoped and wished for with her birth was now the complete opposite. She was in a hospital environment, she was having blood taken, she had to feed every three hours because of the fear of dehydration and the all important skin to skin contact was drastically reduced. We were taken care of wonderfully in the hospital and we made the best of it was we could, letting Ellie know we were there for her all the way. Soon she was allowed home and the fun of babies begins

I'm not meaning to pick them!

We've been watching family films a lot this weekend. I've been trying to keep us close as a family in the evenings just before bed instead of our separate screens.

I went through Netflix and added a number of 80's films that were classics and I remembered enjoying and thought the kids would like them too.

The first one we watched was Look Who's Talking. I remembered there was a kid talking to himself (we could hear it as audience) and that it was quite funny and probably what swayed me then and now, was that it had Bruce Willis's voice in it.

First off, I forgot about the whole conception scene at the beginning, the animated talking sperm and egg scene and then I forgot about there being scenes of an animated fetus from inside the mothers belly. Honest to G-d I pretty much forgot the entire first part of the film consisted of mostly pregnancy and fetusbaby and birth related stuff.

I almost freaked the fuck out and panicked that the kids were going to be really upset about seeing it. They didn't seem to be and I stifled the way my heart jumped into my mouth when the fetusbaby started thinking and talking. Completely forgot about that part too. *sigh*

Aside from that, the rest of the film was sweet and funny in places and terribly outdated in others. And yes I did shout at the TV during some of the birth scenes and yes my hubby did shout at the TV for them going back and forward to baby's room instead of cosleeping.

I watched Fools Rush In - didn't know there was a miscarriage scene (which actually turned out not to be) which caught me by surprise, made me cry and had me cursing my stupid choice of films this weekend.

We then watched as a family, Look Who's Talking too because the kids enjoyed the first one. The beginning was similar but I was more prepared and anyway it was mostly missed because Millie was insisting there were two babies and was becoming upset with me for saying there was only one. It was that becoming upset way I recognised as the...about to explode and NEVER recover..kind of upset. I negotiated my way out of that meltdown like a pro.

The next one I watched alone was Philomena but what I thought was going to be a quirky slow film about two mismatched sad people turned out to be the true story of this tragic tale of woe about the practice of the Catholic church in Ireland at the time, forcing unwed mothers in their care to give up their children for adoption. This particular mother had been looking for her son for 50 years but in the end he had died but it turned out he had wanted to be buried back in Ireland where he was born in case his mother ever came looking for him. Every time the mother had gone to the home to look for him, she had been fobbed off and told lies. He once went there from America, on his almost deathbed, and he was also told lies and that his mother wasn't looking for him. You know real high end never ending tragedy.

Netflix really does give ridiculous descriptions for the films and I often just go by name and the picture. I had a rough idea of the genre, family based or funny. But OMG they were crazy choices!!

It seems no matter what film I pick there is some reference or scene about miscarriage or pregnancy or those kinds of things. It's like some weird cruel coincidence joke that's not really that funny.

Meltdowns - a few
Losing the Plot - I don't have the energy to be shouty
Breastfeeding - she didn't ask tonight!

Algorithms are not the best ways to cope

I keep wondering if there is bleeding quotient, like they say you usually bleed for 6 weeks lochia for full term so is it 40 divided by 6, which is about 6.6 but is that days or what and then I don't know how to convert that to the relative weeks.  I want a smart clever little formula.

Then I realise that all women are different and experience physical things differently. It's probably not possible to quantify that kind of physiological response. Most information sites say anything from few days to few weeks but a lot of forums with posts from real people talk about bleeding still after 6 weeks.

I'm not worried about my bleeding as it has been tailing off and only coming back if I exert. The clots are now small and the pain is usually minimal.

I just want it to be a tangible exact quantifiable known. I have this need for something solid and undeniable. It's as if having this handy mathematical way of working it out means something makes real sense. Quantifiable sense. I am useless with numbers and hate maths but I know it's absolute. I know certain formulas are always one way. Pi is always Pi. Speed is always distance over time. Bleeding will last x amount of time.

Instead it's all just full of unknowns and smattered with possibles and maybe. Its hard to find something to hold me down.

I'm always all about feelings and emotions and I don't understand why I'm suddenly desperate for a math sum! It's weird.

 

Meltdowns - mainly due to physical pains
Losing the Plot - not so much
Breastfeeding - one thumb for right two thumbs for left...just a little morning and in the night

Need. Want.

I didn't mean for Neshama to die because of my need to have another baby.

She wasn't able to live, I don't know why, but we created her and somewhere along the way something happened to her that she couldn't do anything about, neither could we.

She didn't choose this for herself, who would? But I feel we sort of did, because I wanted another baby.

I say I, because I spent 5 years persuading Hubby that it would be an amazing awesome idea to have another one and he finally conceded that he did also want another baby but was terrified of not being able to manage emotionally, financially, physically and on even less sleep.  

Hubby absolutely wanted her when I told him and he obviously subconsciously wanted her when we conceived her,  because if you're not using contraception...well....you could get pregnant! I hope he doesn't blame me for persuading him because now look what he's having to deal with. I hope he's not blaming himself either. Yes I know, blame isn't healthy. I can't help it.

My need and want for another baby is raw right now. I need that life growing back inside me. I need to feel that unbelievable overwhelming love that only comes from knowing you are sustaining your child's life inside you.  Except I didn't sustain Neshama's life. I want her back inside me and for none of this to have happened. I want her back inside me but I would also want to have another baby inside me right now because I know that it's not possible to have Neshama back.  It doesn't mean I've stopped loving and wanting her but it does make me feel guilty for thinking about another different baby.  I feel not in control of that need to have a baby inside me.  Or my thoughts about how I feel.  Is this a good time to start blaming hormones?

When my kids say to me 'I need this' I more often than not automatically respond with 'You don't need it, you want it'   I know they don't understand the difference yet but one day they might. One day they will be able to deal with not being able to get that vital all encompassing whatever and soon they will differentiate between how much they really need something compared to how much they want it. Then, I hope they work damn hard to get what they need, then once they have what they need, they work even harder to get what they want.

Right now I want and need another baby in my belly. Intellectually, I know it's too soon, don't care.

Whatever way I look at it at the moment, I think i will always feel awful for not being able to help her survive. And a bit selfish and slightly (more) crazy for wanting another baby again already.

Meltdowns - on the increase but all in hand and understandable
Losing the Plot - no energy really but if it happens it happens.
Breastfeeding - I told Millie I couldn't on Monday bedtime because I thought it might cause a contraction. I had never thought about it being an issue before or with my pregnancies with the other two breastfeeding and I had also never felt it give me a contraction during this pregnancy.  I wonder if subconsciously I knew something wasn't right. An hour later I birthed her. Now, I don't think it would have made any difference.  I remember feeling sad that Millie had been upset and taken a while to get to sleep and I could have fed her and it would have made a difference to her.

Psyching myself up

I haven't been to see anyone yet for this pregnancy. I realise this may be shocking to some of you, I imagine you can't conceive of not having a health professional involved right from the beginning or not scanning at every possible moment.

For each and every pregnancy I have had hassle from health professionals for my choices during pregnancy and labour. I refused nuchal test. I asked for short scans to minimise ultrasound effect, I refused antibiotics, I refused insulin, I refused constant monitoring, I refused more scans and ultimately with my first, I refused to go to hospital. I decided what I wanted to do based on the risks and research my husband and I spent inordinates amount of time doing.

Almost everything was a fight, a hassle. We had to explain ourselves to many different people. We were rarely supported in our choices and it changed the whole magical experience into basically a stressful pain in the butt. We were vilified and demonised, patronised and ignored.

I just don't want to go through all that this time round, so I have been enjoying my pregnancy (the crappy parts as well!) and staving off the inevitable negativity for as long as possible.
.

I have been researching possible obstacles I might face since I am now classed as an older mother and I have increased likliehood of gestational diabetes again.

It's not looking great. I can expect my age to be brought up numerous times with an impending sense of doom attached to it.  My age brings risks of pre-eclampsia and there will probably be increased pressure to be induced as soon as I hit 40weeks. They might try and persuade me to take aspirin or clexane or have a sweep or ultimately be induced. Funnily I never reached 40 weeks with my girls so that could be something to cling on to!!

I really need to psych myself up to talk to them and I really can't arsed with it all. You know. The questions. The risks. The tests. The distrust of medical/authority types who see me as this one generic pregnant woman who has to adhere to policy procedure and avoid the death of my baby at all costs and it's all my fault if I don't do as they say without question or knowledge. Yes sir no sir three bags full of amniotic fluid sir. Your baby could die if you don't obey us.

As usual the fear of social services means I will soon be contacting them to allow them to join me on my journey but woe betide anyone who pisses me off with their risk averse negativity policy driven mentality!!!

Breastfeeding - still happening amazed milk hasn't dissappeared
Losing the Plot - probably with NHS
Meltdowns - increasing unfortunately I blame impending teengery hormones

Fight to the end...of summer

I can't believe how awful Ellie is to Millie.

All I ever wanted was a family full of kind, loving, fun and happy children with the occasional falling out that was dealt with in an understanding and gentle manner resulting in even more understanding of each other and living in a loving family unit and I've tried so so hard over the years to engender and make this happen but Jesus fuck she is so so mean to her and Millie is at an age now where she is fighting back more effectively and aggressively.    She is starting to retaliate in the same ugly way she is being attacked by Ellie, but at 5yr olds level.

Ellie and Maia are similar ages so whenever they had issues I was always on hand to help sort it when they didnt have the emotional capacity and words to handle it. Now that they are older, Maia has learned the art of compromise and the beauty of letting go (mainly from hubby ) and the skill to stand up for herself or involve me when needed.

The age gap however between Ellie and Millie is such that Millie doesn't understand certain things yet and is unable to be fully aware of the consequences of her behaviour.  She also is thankfully still at an age where she is willing to back down and still wants the family unity to bond and to live in a loving environment but I can feel the relentlessness of the arguing and fighting is wearing her down. 

With Ellie's aspergers, the same kind of thing applies, she still doesn't understand certain things yet and now I realise she might never. She seems to not care about the consequences of her behaviour but in all possibility she also isn't fully able to. She is very reluctant to utilise the same methods of handling it as we used when it was just her and Maia. As she is older, it's much harder to distract her or intercept things and move things along before it gets out of hand or deal with it using sibling rivalry techniques learned over the years.  She is unable to see Millie's side of things and cannot imagine how it must be for Millie to constantly have her eldest sister on at her and basically bullying her. I talk to her about it and try and get her to see how her behaviour is affecting the relationship...not just with Millie but how it affects us all. I try to give her tools....remove yourself from the situation, come and get me, don't get into a back and forth match with a bloody 5yr old. I also talk to Millie about her behaviour and find she is more receptive.

The other realisation I have with her having aspergers is that according to Ellie it is NEVER her fault. She never takes responsibilty for her part in anything. She likes to explain at great length why it's all Millie's fault. She refuses to back down and often ends up being the highly upset and affronted one when it's because of her attitude or behaviour that we are in the sorry mess.

I think in the past I have consistently tried to find ways of dealing with this that come from the emotional angle. That whatever is bothering them can be sorted out by discussing things and working out what the problem is and where it may have started and what can be done to sort the issues out. It just doesn't work. It's such a convoluted mess of past digressions and lingering resentment that it's never possible to untangle things.  There is always confusion of events and feelings and it just becomes more convuluted and frustrating trying to sort it.

I also can no longer keep thinking she is older therefore she should be more able to back the fuck away, not get riled up so much by a 5yr old and stop personalising things so immensley.

Anyway....that's been on my mind recently...a lot of the fighting today took place whilst I was driving which makes it doubly hard to sort. 

First week of summer is nearly over and ocht it's not been too bad otherwise. We've been quite busy doing fun things too.

The fighting just really gets me down and I'm finding it hard to know what to do and I realise that it also triggers lots of sibling fighting memories from my childhood which defintely doesn't help.

Meltdowns a plenty
Losing the plot is inevitable
Breastfeeding it's all part of the process

Sardines

We just played our first ever game of sardines yesterday evening before bed and it was brilliant...admittedly it did start of as mummy hide and seek....you know where I find a fantastic spot that takes them aaaages to find me.  Initially Millie thought she was to hide (in a different place) as well as Maia, (avoided a meltdown from Millie about never being the one to hide & negotiated a deal with her to be next...without consulting Ellie and Maia which could be a disaster but ocht fuck it deal done let's carry on.  Then while still looking for Maia, Ellie tricked Millie into thinking Maia was hiding under our bed covers, so Millie and Ellie hid there so when I came along I thought they were all hiding there and before I whipped the covers off I stood marvelling at how insanely still and quiet they were both being (whilst trying not to laugh at them still thinking I can't see them)

We played for over an hour and really it is the first time we all managed to play together where no-one became irrevocably upset and everyone got a turn. There was lots of the usual negotiating, behind the scene tweaking and relaxing of rules without anyone realising!!

It was a magnificent feat of ingenuity and yet a wonderful connecting family moment.

I wonder if other people put *that* much effort into maintaining a simple game?!! It was worth it though.

Still took nearly two hours for bedtime. Nothing tires these girls out!

Meltdowns - redirected a few
Losing the plot - nope all good clean fun
Breastfeeding - not whilst hiding!

Permanent Shell Shock

I've been thinking about something and how to word it. Most evenings I feel like I'm recovering from the day..each and every day feels like an achievement yet I feel like a bit of a failure....I was trying to find a way to explain it....I kind of wanted to use the PTSD term..but kind of didn't as it's strong and has associations with soldiers and combat but there is that feeling sometimes like I am in a war zone...we've survived this day, the next will be easier!!  Sometimes it is, realistically though most days are a quagmire of negotiations and dealing with situations to avoid meltdowns and mayhem. I've often felt I have to be on a constant state of high alert and 10steps ahead of game. Always trying to make life go smoothly whilst ensuring all my children feel heard and understood and worthy and wanted. Many days it feels like I needed to carefully manage and control how the day goes....an impossibility I realise with 3 kids, but with one having Aspergers it's become a necessity. So at the end of the day when all 3 are finally asleep until the next wave of night time parenting begins, I breathe and allow myself to relax...a little!

We only recently received a diagnosis so before the 2 year process began, I often questioned my parenting skills and continually looked to the future benefits of Continuum Concept parenting. Now I realise the many ways it has absolutely benefited us as a family and even enhanced our situation....never using CIO, never using naughty step or time outs or other punitive yet ineffectual techniques and punishments.

As the diagnosis became more and more  apparent I wondered wether having a label would help other people be more understanding and tolerant of Eliie's flooby behaviour...it has helped me too.

I wondered whether it would help her make more of an effort to try and control her floobiness, because she will now know that there is a reason that sometimes she can't dial herself back....I'm beginning to realise how difficult this actually is for her.

I wondered wether maybe it would stop her feeling so bad about herself being unable to dial herself back in those moments....or indeed if she even does feel negatively towards herself...I'm seeing that she rarely connects the two and thankfully has positive self esteem for the moment...apparently this will become harder for her as she gets older.

One of my goals for my children is I never want them to feel bad about themselves. This hasn't changed since the diagnosis but equally I don't want her giving up trying to be a kinder person who understands others feelings as well as her own. Saying it out loud I realise thats a difficult request of anyone let alone someone with Aspergers. Who really knows how to understand and deal with their own feelings? I clearly dont!! I realise how difficult it is for Ellie and try to help her navigate this daily.

The day we got the diagnosis I was kind of numb and kind of not surprised and kind of shocked and kind of scared and kind of wish we hadn't started the process and kind of not sure what to do next and kind of wanted to curl up and cry and I was kind of all over the place and then I realised I kind of have a reason for such a difficult parenting journey and then I started to feel sad for her and Maia who seems to handle it so much better than me.

I started to realise a few things too.....I worked out that my idea of having lots of kids playing together and keeping themselves busy and not needing my involvement much hasn't really worked because Ellie never 'played' and always needed my guidance and input and now they are older her and they spend a lot of their time on their tablets doing minecraft and poor Millie who loves imaginative play doesnt get the chance much and when they do play together it usually ends in upset because Ellie takes control and doesn't do imaginative play very well and they always have the same narrative and the whole thing ends up in arguments and fighting. I feel Maia and Millie could play well together given the chance but Maia still feels Millie is too young and Maia is on her 'safe' tablet all the time where fighting and arguments happen less.

I'm sad for what everyone has missed out on and that I haven't provide Maia and Millie with more opportunity to play. It felt like they have lost a lot of possible sibling together playing time. We have now started to organise situations where Maia and Millie can have that time together and Ellie can have 1-1 time with one of us. Finding 1-1 time individually with each child is proving more of a difficulty.

After the diagnosis I started to wonder was it purely down to rules, boundaries, fear of authority and doing the wrong thing that has allowed Ellie to go through the school system unnoticed? Questioning my parenting style again.  Every parent's evening has always been glowing academically and behaviourally and we were always left wondering how can she be SO remarkably different out of school. Is it a girl boy thing? Would it become more noticeable in secondary school? They said it may start to become more of an issue the older she becomes the whole girl high school socialising thing. ...this scared the shit out of me as I struggled SO much with bullying. I console myself that for now the lines of communication are very open, Ellie always feels able to tell us everything  (for the moment!) and the way we raise our kids is totally different to how I was raised.

Since the diagnosis nothing much has really changed....there is still that daily struggle and endless stressing. There is still the constant reminders about ok behaviour and pre-empting them, something I have always struggled with.  There is still a lot of managing and handling and dealing and sorting but now there are finally some answers to the craziness that is my life and with the support from the school and the help of outside services I am starting to worry less and less about authorities swooping in and tearing us apart...my focus is returning, the sun is returning....I can feel my resolve returning.....I feel I can maybe do this...this being a parent thing!!

Meltdowns - so glad I embraced this term and it's connotations rather than being sucked into the whole tantrum bad behaviour naughty girl slap back of knees paradigm.
Losing the Plot - it's still possible, there's a shit more parenting needs to keep happening and a shit load more crazy from me
Breastfeeding - it's been an interesting 10yrs so far and I am thankful for never having mastistis.

Love me more and more and more and forever

Ellie and Maia were out for the evening tonight at the theatre. Barry and I played hide and seek with Millie (5) in one room..it was really funny...I wish I'd filmed it...she hid in the same place every time! She basically had our undivided attention for almost 2hrs and she absolutely loved it!  She was heard and understood and no-one called her an idiot or stupid or pulled her hair or hit her for no reason.   

 It was an interesting and relatively easy experience nighttime parenting only one child and I'm going to be honest, I did for a brief moment wonder what life would be like if life hadn't happened and we were parents to just the one. I'm not proud the thought slipped in there, but there you have it, it did. Anyway, as quickly as the thought appeared I confused it out my head with the complications of time travelling and Millie being the youngest (or would she be older?) and the other two not existing and ages being different and would she still be 5 or would we always have started a family when we did and...sod it. ...it wouldn't work, no point even thinking about it. Yet I did.....

I remember parenting one child and how overwhelmed and different I felt. The only one *still* breastfeeding at 1, the only one not initiating weaning to go skiing, then only one actually carrying my toddler in a sling and *still* sharing a bed. Then the 2nd came and I carried on parenting in this different way, by then I had found a few others who parented the way I did, through La Leche League and Nurture in Nature.  I saw others breastfeeding part babyhood and bed sharing with their children. There was no-one tandem feeding but I didn't feel as different. I did begin to feel the tug of war between siblings and with my body....one needs me over there, one needs me here...then no3 came along...I didn't know the meaning of overwhelmed and different!!! 

Having more than one kid changes the way you are able to love each child. There is always love to go around, just most-times there isn't enough of me to go around.  There is a constant battle of guilt in my head about giving everyone what they need and that constant nagging feeling that I'm somehow failing each kid of their right to have a complete childhood because they constantly have to divide me and share me and fight for my attention. I realised yesterday I could distinguish each child by their repetitive mum mum mum call. Each one is different!

The girls came home quite late but full of excitement from their trip. I deliberately took the time to connect and listen before encouraging them upstairs. Words are futile at times like these. Times when they are beyond tired yet still enthusiastically awake. Repeatedly asking them to start bedtime falls on deaf excited ears.  I know they just need a bit of mummytime before the mundane. Listen. Connect..then let them follow me to toothbrushing and bed. 

My girls are getting older....soon all three be in school and that 'me time' I am constantly trying to carve out will become that much easier...a new phase awaits us all. 

Last night Millie eeked out every ounce of mum and dad time she could until hubby went to pick up the older two, then she squeezed just a bit more love from me until she fell asleep....mummy "whisper in my ear" she said...."say I am worthy, I am wanted, I am loved...mummy loves Millie". Yes she does. She loves each and every one of you. Completely. As much as she can.

Meltdowns - none tonight with only one

Losing the Plot - not even a little

Breastfeeding - Natural term feeding at its finest

Love the crazy mean people again

I have this massive almost sometimes debilitating fear that people I dont know very well, but see almost daily (so IRL...in real life) don't like me and that I have done something to upset them and then I have this GREAT urge to talk to the person, apologise for anything I have ever said or done or thought incase I did, say or think something that might have upset them.  It's a vibe I get....you know you can just tell....stink eye.

Then I go through phases of thinking fuck it who cares. It's their issue with whatever I was saying. Transference, it's about something else. We all live differently. I've got nothing to apologise for...it's me not them. 

Then I don't want to be thought of as someone who hurts other people's feelings. I don't like it when it happens to me.

Why do I have this need for people I hardly know to like me? I'm already stressing about the people I do know and wether I've upset them in any way...I don't need it with strangers!!!!

I think I'm basically top of the needy chain..but I'm not sure what I need. It's not a comfortable place to be.

I don't want my kids growing up feeling like they need to apologise for themselves all the time. Like they might have done something wrong for having a different way of looking at life. I want them to feel freer and happier with who they are and be around people who are kind and understanding. I want them to feel confident and happy with who they are but not in a mean way.

I try to be that for them but I know they are learning meanness from me because some days it's not easy and some days I am mean to them. Hopefully they are also learning how to apologise and know when to.

I tell my kids that consistently grown up mean people sometimes didn't have enough love around them growing up and probably just need a hug from their mummy or daddy. People who are sometimes mean are maybe having a hard time at home or they are tired or hungry. I try to help them understand it from their side and hopefully that's helping them not feel it's their fault all the time. Sometimes it is....believe me sometimes it is their bloody inconsiderate unhelpful ungrateful fault!!!

Sometimes I say they weren't breastfed as a baby..you know, cos I like being controversial... 😜

Love the crazy mean people. I'm one of them sometimes. Love me. Love me. Love me. Like me? Ok just be civil to me at the very least. It must be exhausting giving me your negative vibes all the time.

Consent is not required

I'm a good person. I'm a nice person.  I'm an interesting person and I'm a fun person. I am also a principled person and when someone else tells me to temper myself and not be myself then it makes me want to be myself more. I don't like being told what to do. I especially don't like people telling me what to do with my kids. I absolutely abhor this one size fits all society we are being boxed in to. This 'you must do it this way because it's been deemed better for you.'

I still labour under the illusion that I have the right to choose what is best for my family. It's not like my girls are neglected or abused. It's not like I am damaging their health. On the contrary, the amount of chemicals that 'the mainstream' are finally realising causes health problems makes me know in my heart why I live my life the way I do. There are enough toxins in the air that I can't do anything about, without deliberately and consciously ingesting others.

So the issue for me is that the nursery are saying they can't use the toothpaste I provide because the government says there has to be a certain level of flouride in the paste. They will of course speak to the department that runs the toothbrushing initiative but surely it is better to brush than not at all. Not to mention the exclusion and singling out of my child when everyone else is brushing.

The most worrying aspect for me though is actually the wording at the top of the letter. It states:-

"Starting from Academic Year 2016/2017 Consent for tooth brushing is no longer required."

With a capital C for consent, just to drive home the power.

You may think I am reading too much into things. You may think I am over analysing. Yet it always starts with the small things and before you know it, the next letter you receive about your children and your life could read....

"Consent is no longer required."

If I become known as the crazy parent because I am always questioning and pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable to foist on to my girls then so be it.

This isn't my first rodeo. I have been advocating for my girls rights since before they were born and I am not about to stop now. Complacency is not an option for me and my family.

                       _______________

"First they came for their clothes, eroded their identity and stifled their individuality. 

Then they came for their teeth, infused them with neurotoxins and told them to swallow.  

Then they came for their immunity, injected them with poison and made millions. 

Then they came for their minds, censored their brains and conformed their bodies. 

Then they came for me but I had nothing left to give."

You get the picture.......is it sinking in yet????

Meltdowns - ALWAYS after swimming 

Losing the Plot - perhaps 

Breastfeeding - nearing the end of our journey :(

Believe the impossible

Is it possible to have a breakdown whilst still accomplishing things...like getting kids to school almost on time and feeding kids..almost nutritious food?  That's the extent of my parental involvement at the moment.  The rest of the time I sleep. Or lie down. Sometimes the dog gets walked too. 

I know, well I hope, this pain is going to eventually settle down and return to the normal everyday chronic lower back pain levels that I was managing and living with before the accident.  There may even be a possibility the old pain could be lessened. 

I know I have been able to manage my previous pain and live a relatively normal life, knowing my limitation and abilities. Sometimes that was shovelling an entire driveways worth of red stones and sometimes that was getting everyone out the house in the morning. 

I know that if I had to, I could learn to live with this new level of pain. I'm already trying to reduce my pain meds. I'm thinking of a plan to increase how far I can walk with the dog before it gets too much. At the moment I'm not even managing every day. 

I'm really tired and fed up of being in pain just now. It's exhausting. I know it won't last forever. Although sometimes it's just really hard to imagine given that I've already had other chronic pain for pretty much ten years of my life. 

That's another thing, being positive is also really exhausting. Believing things will all work out beautifully. It makes me a grumpyarse. All my strength is going towards healing and all that entails physically and emotionally which makes me impatient and grumpy and exasperated. As ever, my family suffers. 

I know no one died. I know we were so bloody lucky. I shudder with thankfulness every day that I was on my own in the car. 

Still, I'm not a happy camper right now and living with pain is a total fuckitybuggerbolloky head and body fuck. 

Meltdowns - I didn't hear you from all the way up here in my bed almost asleep. I'm sorry you were left alone to go to the toilet yourself. I'm happy you managed it. SEE I *knew* she bloody could!

Losing the Plot - if I had the energy. 

Breastfeeding - despite earlier predictions, this girl is not for turning. There is definitely less coming out and so feeds are shorter which I can handle just now.  

3,324 consecutive days...that's how long I have been feeding my babies!

I think my breastfeeding days could be over. I have been breastfeeding non stop for 9yrs. I tandem fed my eldest when they were younger and have been feeding Millie for 3yrs 8months. 

Tonight at bedtime I was consciously thinking this could be our last feed I better get off my phone and remember it!! This is a big moment. 

I looked at her face, I felt her hair and I thought how weird it was that hubby showed me a video this evening that he coincidentally came across, of one of Millie's first feeds. The one from when she had tongue tie and kept falling off, the one where she was SO upset and hungry and unable to get any milk. It was difficult to watch. She was so tiny and red from crying and she looked so thin. I remembered the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. I couldn't finish watching it. 

Now here I am watching her possible last feed ever.

She hasn't been able to get milk from the right side for a few days and not as much from left either. I suspect the pain medication has been messing about with my production. I know we could get push through it and I could produce more and she would persevere but.......

I have decided to go away for a couple of days to my friends. I think, by the time I am back my milk will be gone. 

I finally made the decision. I have decided that she will cope with me being away. I decided that I need to get away and properly have a break.  I decided that she will manage. She will manage throughout the day without her morning wake up milk and without her midday connection milk and without her early evening tired but not ready for bed comfort milk and without her bedtime milk. 

I know she has managed without some of those milk times but she has never had to manage without ANY of them. 

I can feel myself talking myself out of it as I write this and the fact that she came to me tonight and gave me the biggest hug ever and I thought 'oh my G-d I can't leave this incredibly scrummylicious baby' and also the fact that as I was trying to get her to bed hubby turned up to help as it had been an hour already and she said to him 'I miss mummy she's going away'. Oh dear G-d she misses me already and I'm sitting right beside her. I can't do this. How can I leave her?

An hour later and she is finally asleep after shouting for me for ten minutes after discussing all the things she will be doing with hubby and the girls for 50mins!!

Another hour later and we are now trying to get the girls to bed. They are wild tonight and giggly and not listening. Its going to end in disaster. It's 10pm. I'm tired.  My resolve is getting stronger. I'm pretty sure I will be going. 

Eldest and hubby get into a fight. She's bawling. He's shouting. He turns to me and says I've changed my mind (meaning don't go!!)

I need this. Hubby is off work so it works. 

He can go away at the weekend if he wants. It's only fair. 

So after 9yrs of near 24/7 parenting I am having a real honest to goodness two over nighters!! It's almost surreal. 

The decision is made. We will all manage!! 

Meltdowns - random and loud

Losing the plot - mainly over dishes left everywhere

Breastfeeding - I'm pretty sure it's over and I feel ok about that. Well ok at the moment, since it hasn't happened and she will want morning milk and afternoon milk tomorrow anyway, which I'd forgotten about!!

Beautifully Awesome Monster

It's that time of night when I sit all alone for longer than a nanosecond.  Hubby gets older two to bed where he often falls asleep till later, and I watch a really cool film or programme. 

Invariably there are characters interacting as mother-daughter or father-daughter or a character that's had a father or a mother. 

It either makes me feel like the worst mum in the world or the best. I think well at least I'm not as bad as *that* mum or OMG I need to be more like her.  Or I think, I wonder what kind of mother HE had to end up like THAT!! She was either awesome or a monster. 

It's also how I sometimes feel when on FB and in real life. 

I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking how much therapy is going to cost for my kids when they are older or maybe I should just do it now, group therapy. Maybe that'd do it. Sort us out. Stop the fighting. The resentment. The shouting. The slavery feeling. The dealing with the oftentimes overwhelming high emotions that encompass my day. Of a toddler. Of a 7yr old and of a 9yr old and of a 42yr old. Lots of emotions and feelings. The relentlessness of it all!!!

And then half way through the film, Millie wakes up and if I don't fall asleep, I manage to finish the film and I then spend the rest of the night thinking how I'm going to be a better mum tomorrow.

Meltdown - spending all day navigating around them and through them and over them

Losing the Plot - I think it's lost forever 

Breastfeeding - it had decreased to a manageable level but then illness struck and weeeeeeee up its gone!!

 

If music be the food of love

Music was a big part of my life before kids.  Listening to on repeat, dancing to on repeat, singing to on repeat!!! I always had a song that defined my huge feelings of the time. I'd like to get my music groove back. Without the hands covering my mouth if I dare to sing loudly or the kid pulling at me to stop dancing!!

Sheryl Crow was the soundtrack to my life at a time when I was in transition. About twenty years ago some life devastating thing happened...I can't remember exactly when it was so it could have been one of these..Split from long term boyfriend....dad died......no job...terrible time with housemates.....finished uni, no where to live, nowhere to be or probably a combination of all of that. I stayed with a friend. She was amazing. She had two kids Summer and another with a great name. She was lovely and kind and took me in when I needed refuge. She was from Jersey or Guernsey. I can't believe I can't remember her name or how long I stayed. Maybe it was only a week. Maybe longer. Where did we met? Maybe she was on my course. I can't remember details. Only feelings. (I'm now going to find old diaries and phonebooks to see if I have her name and old address!)

I remember I was being utterly depressed and incapable of anything much and I remember listening to the songs from Sheryl Crow album over and over and over and over and over and over.  I was probably a nightmare person to live with and she probably got rid of me quick smart but all I remember was a hippy vibe of love and acceptance. 

🎵"No-one said it would be easy. No-one said it would be this hard. No one said it would be easy

No one thought we'd come this far"🎵

I remember thinking the song was written for me right now, predominantly about the split.  Now, as I listen to it for the first time in ages I think it's relevant right now for being the mother of a toddler and other kids. Lots of kids. So many kids. (Ellie's favourite song at the moment is Little Girls from Annie.) Mainly it's the toddler though. We are fighting. She is angry with me. She is hitting me. She is annoyed with me. She says the word in such a brilliant way... I am AnnOYed at you...and she really is. I'm guessing it's the milk reduction for sake of sanity that I have recently implemented. It could be other things too. Could be the wrong spoon. Or could be the singing. It's toddlerness. 

I've had a friend here and hubby took Friday off, so I've spent a majority of my time being busy and making every possible effort NOT to deal with Millie because we are fighting too much at the moment. I've needed a sanity break. I so needed it and I'm so relieved my friend and hubby were able to provide it. 

Whilst I was listening to the album, Millie came in ready for bed.  I have not seen her much these past few days and I desperately knew we needed to reconnect. 

🎵"All I wanna do Is have some fun

I got a feeling I'm not the only one 

All I wanna do is have some fun"🎵

I really do. I want that person back. I used to be such a fun person to be around. I'll make up for it right now I thought. Glow in the dark make up and one freaked out toddler later I'm having second thoughts about this fun mum moment. Now she's whining I want to go to bed and I'm trying to find fun to remind myself I used to be interesting. It's a losing battle. 

Milk wins. She's tired. My timing sucks as ever. 

As we connect on a cellular boob level I ask for her to look at me. Look in my eyes Millie. 

I love you I tell her as she drifts into breastfeeding bliss. 

🎵"But I do believe

That not everything is gonna be the way

You think it ought to be

It seems like every time I try to make it right

It all comes down on me

Please say honestly you won't give up on me

And I shall believe

And I shall believe"🎵

I have to believe it will all work out beautifully.
It has to. 

Meltdowns - too many to mention 

Losing the plot - too embarrassed to mention

Breastfeeding - too much too much Dear Lord it's too much 

*Edit: Since starting writing this and finishing it a few hours later, I've remembered her name was Deborah. 

There would have been a perfect moment

There would have been a picture tonight of us in the succah but we forgot.  It would have looked like a really cool family picture. You would have looked at it and maybe thought wow don't they all look like a great happy together family. 

It would have been fake though.

It wouldn't have shown Ellie in a bad mood with me for first sitting on her seat , then at me for not being specific enough about which bowl wasn't hers and making her think it was about a fork, even though she didn't have a fork. It wouldn't have shown Millie upset at not sitting close enough to daddy. It wouldn't have shown Maia not there as she didn't eat much then left to watch tv and me becoming more and more upset at the lack of cohesiveness and quality family time and the constant bickering, fighting and tv watching. 

(Also it's a Yom Tov 😉)

                ————————

Sukkot - Harvest Festival, a Hebrew word meaning "booths" or "huts," refers to the Jewish festival of giving thanks for the fall harvest.  It also commemorates the 40 years of Jewish wandering in the desert after the giving of the Torah atop Mt. Sinai. Sukkot is celebrated five days after Yom Kippur on the 15th of the month of Tishrei, and is marked by several distinct traditions. One, which takes the commandment to dwell in booths literally, is to erect a sukkah, a small, temporary booth or hut. Sukkot (in this case, the plural of sukkah) are commonly used during the seven-day festival for eating, entertaining and even for sleeping.

Barry built his first Succah this year. It should be covered with leaves and decorated with hanging fruit and decorations. We are supposed to eat our meals in here and sleep if possible for 8 days  (it's not possible!).

Meltdowns - really weird nonsensical ones at the moment

Losing the Plot - getting out of hand again

Breastfeeding - still happening. I'm usually ok with it. There needs to be cutbacks now.