New laptop acquired

Ok… new laptop sourced, all setup to go. But, in the chaos of our life (and in the midst of having a broken laptop) I overlooked an assignment for my uni coursework… so that was essential – then that laptop developed a fault and had to go back, then my final assignment was due in, the same week that Caitlin revealed she was depressed (at 7 – devastating) and the boy had repeated meltdowns because he wasn’t getting enough attention.

So after coursework was handed in, I have taken a week to myself (by that I mean refusing to do any admin/paperwork etc.), and now am going to try and get back on top of things once again!

Life definitely feels like a constant game of chase right now. But I fully intend on not having to move again for a while so this chasing game will (hopefully) subside!

Hope everyone’s having a fab weekend xxx

30 Days Wild – Day 23

Well, it was a bit hard to take in nature and wildlife yesterday, as we spent a large majority of our day on motorways and major A roads. Caitlin has jumped from being just under 17kg to 18.7kg in amongst this house move drama. This means that she’s too heavy for her car seat harness, so would either need to go to being secured only with the seatbelt (but she can’t even stay up right in a chair due to her posture), or a seat with a harness that goes up to a weight capacity higher (25kg/36kg).

So, knowing this day was coming I had searched some things (but had been holding off in the hopes that the OT report would be through as they were supposed to be making some recommendations). But clearly we weren’t meant to wait.

We booked in with the Disability Specialist at the In Car Safety Centre in Milton Keynes. We were lucky enough to manage to get a same day appointment, within a feasible driving time. We were greeted well, they had a little room the children could play in at the side, and the shop floor was clean well presented and inviting. And the assistant knew her stuff, and didn’t push for u to get the highest priced seat. We wound that the seats were a little higher in price than we could have found them by shopping around. But the service we received, and the knowledge that we were going away safe not “sold”, more than covered the difference. (They do not know I am writing this so, no I am not writing positively for any benefit, reward or compensafftion).

Anyhow, it was hard to enjoy the sunshine whilst we were sat on a motorway with it beating down on the car. And by the time we got home it was a bit late to be getting out and about. However, we do have the Collins Michelin i-SPY books, so we were looking out for animals, birds and trees.

30 Days Wild – Day 22

Yesterday was one of those awful days where nothing seems to go right, a chain of one after the other incidents leaves you feeling at a loss… and it was only 9:45 by this point – culminating in me swallowing a lip bar, which really was the tip of the iceberg. We had had wet pants (and carpet because there was just so damn much) meltdowns and arguments, stubbed toes… the works by this point.

So when we’d finally eaten breakfast at 9:45 I got the children to clear the living room and get out sheepskins, blankets and cushions, and we grabbed the Magic Faraway Tree Collection, which frankly has been sat on the shelf for ages waiting for the right moment. I used to read them to Caitlin at bed time when she first came to live with us, but aside from that, they’ve not been read. After a chapter, or two, the kids had a nap (much needed) and I sorted some jobs out.

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But afterwards, we collected ourselves, set off to the garden and enjoyed leftover past from Thursday night for lunch, and headed out to listen to the sounds of the wind against the trees.

 

 

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And then proceeded to play in the sandbox whilst I read a few more chapters of The Enchanted Wood.

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Whilst enjoying the sunshine and listening to the sound of the breeze on the tree above…

30 Days Wild – Day 21

“Our birds”.

It’s kind of strange, having only owned our new house for only 2 months, actually 2 nights away means we really appreciated the sound of being woken by “our birds”. I don’t mean, we have birds as pets… we don’t. I mean the birds that visit our back garden (we really should make an effort to identify them) but they have their own song, and it seems to have settled into us. Being woken by them this morning was so much more gentle and inviting than being woken by the foreign sounds of the nature at the campsite.

They are officially “our birds” now. No other bird song can suffice. We love you birds. Keep up the good work.

30 Days Wild – Day 20

A long journey home through country lanes today, so much wild beauty to be seen.

But the best part of the day was the rain… it had been dry enough for there to be some distinct petrichor in the air. One of my favorite smells of all time, second not even to freshly cut grass or chocolate.

30 Days Wild – Day 18

First day of arrival at camp.

First impressions for everyone was how breathtaking it was to be completely immersed in greenery. Nothing but valley grassed field-land and trees. Beautiful.

Not to mention the reminder of the power of mother nature – listening to the wind whip up the side of the tent. Fierce, furious and wild but wonderful.

Being “just a mum”: pitfalls of friendships

I find myself, quite often, in this situation where I am “just a mum”. As you have likely already read, I home educate and am a carer to my adopted children. They rely on me 24/7, and in the past 3 years I have perhaps had around 20 breaks. I don’t mean holidays (although considering how much we travel as a family…), I quite literally mean just being able to take time out from being mum. I am counting those times I have been able to have a lie in and my husband has done everything, or I have already done everything and I just go grab myself 5-10 minutes of freedom. I don’t mean breaks like “woo, night out” although there have been a few of those included in that total, not many though. Which even if I totaled up as entire days would still barely scrape 1.8 percent of my life in the last 3 years.

I mean, even when the children were at school I was rushing to and from meetings about their education, health and welfare. Often not even having enough time to shower, or even eat. I was denied basic self care through the needs my children had, and the time I was required to commit to them and the lack of support that was available (I quite genuinely mean required here… I was asking for, and fighting for help, but if I refused a meeting I was being difficult and therefore clearly didn’t need the help).

But I just keep getting told over and over, “being a mum IS hard, we all feel tired”, or “Yeah, I barely get 5 minutes to myself!”, “oh you should just do some exercise, it’ll help you feel more positive”. I don’t feel tired, my body is failing me because of how neglected it has been, and how exhausted I am. I don’t barely get 5 minutes to myself, I quite literally don’t have 5 minutes to myself most days. Exercise is unlikely to help considering that extra trip up the stairs that I didn’t need to do can sometimes wipe me out entirely; or that I am either pushing a wheelchair or carrying a 6 year old with a toddler carrier when I am out shopping or walking anywhere, not just plodding along leisurely.

It’s not that simple. I am not just a mum, doing just the mum thing and then moaning about it. I am a mum, a carer, a therapist, a teacher, a life coach, a student of experience-psychology (by that I mean, being taught by what I experience about the psychology of children who are traumatised). I provide 24 hour care, I barely get any sleep, even if I get a child free bed because I am listening out – the children CAN NOT ask for help at night time. Night time is dangerous. They must take cover and hide and await the safety of morning. If they get too scared, we could have a wet or soiled bed, or worse, we could be dealing with trying to reverse the damage of self harm. I am on high alert 24 hours a day, trying not to transfer that to the children, but also trying to be prepared for everything that’s going to happen, could happen, has happened and is causing consequences.

It’s more exhausting than just parenting. It’s like working 5 different jobs that cover the entirity of your week where you don’t get pay, personal space (not even for toileting mostly, because one child finds it that hard to separate and the other child will cause harm to self or others if out of eyeshot for literally the length of time it takes to race unrination, pull up pants as you flush and wash hands).

But also, it’s lonely. Because everyone just gets fed up of you trying to vent out your frustrations, or because you talk about the kids (when actually that’s the only goddam thing you have done and known for months). Because of isolating yourself from the people who talk you down and make you feel like crap. Of just deciding that, no matter how tired you are, you are just going to do everything you need doing yourself (on the most part) and avoid help from certain people if you can help it because help often comes at the cost of degradation. Being told you most certainly are not ill, that the person helping you is so much worse (because you are on your feet and trying). Being told you are lazy (when your husband has said “no, you have the kids to look after, take care of them, they are anxious, keep them away and let us do the physical tasks here”) so you aren’t helping people move things, dig things, build things.

My job as a mum to these two children is mentally draining, physcially overwhelming and very strenuous. I wouldn’t change it for the world. But I would happily change the people who are supposed to be there for us in a heartbeat. And that thought plays over and makes me feel physically sick, and fills me with guilt for having thought it. But it’s true. People just aren’t there for us, like we have been there for people. Because they don’t understand. They would if they just listened, but they don’t. They talk over me/the children, lessen our problems, minimise our stresses and strains and say it’s normal. I lose faith in humankind almost daily.

And before anyone says I am depressed. No, I don’t really think I am. I may be suffering with compassion fatigue somewhat. I may be overwhelmed with how much is expected of me at times. But I am not depressed. I am reacting to the experiences I am having. If you are treated like rubbish daily, you either fight back, avoid the situations in question or accept feeling like rubbish (I don’t have the energy for the first all of the time, and the latter has never been an option for someone quite as justice fighting as I). So I avoid, not in a depressed manner, but in a self preservation manner; I save my energy for what matters: me, my children, my husband, my household.

Some hope is redeemed though when I see articles, blogs, posts pop up on my news feed of people helping other’s out and changing lives. Not those “oooooo look I tricked a homeless person into giving me their money just to prove they have better morals than the rest of society, I just so happened to record it too look…” If you can’t read it in my tone, I hate those “social experiments”. No I mean, in cases where people have gone out of their way to help someone, but not posted anything for credit – instead the person who has been helped shares their side of the story. One of those I read this morning gave me hope (Scary Mommy’s post about Sheila O’Mally).

That’s what goes on in my head. That’s how I feel.

30 Days Wild – Day 16

Today, as we are going to our therapy retreat Monday, we dropped our hamsters off at Nanny’s house to be cared for whilst we are away. But as we have loads of stuff we are getting rid of to various family members, and they live 60-90 minutes away in the same direction, we decided we’d make a day of it.

So today they have played with cousins in the rain, and enjoyed the red night sky on the way home.

We have been out from 7:30am until 10pm today. Very tired, especially after a late night last night trying to sort things ahead of camp.