Today I Am Annoyed

Today I am annoyed.  I woke up that way.  Call it week two of the Easter holidays and it’s all beginning to grate or just plain old contrariness but I’m plain old annoyed today.

Then I had reason to be.

I took the boys swimming.  We go once a week but they particularly enjoy it on a holiday from school.

I forgot that 11am is the time usually reserved for older members of the community to enjoy their aqua aerobics class.  The pool was pretty busy.

That was okay.

The lesson was taking place at the side of the pool we are most familiar with.  It is the perfect depth for the boys.  Three of them can swim but two are confident only where their feet can touch the bottom.  They are unable to tread water properly yet.

Due to aqua aerobics taking place this morning, it was necessary for us to use the other end.  

We walked towards our swimming destination and I watched other families to gauge how my two newbie swimmers would manage. 

I enquired from the (young) lifeguard about the depth of the water.  We are lucky enough to have a leisure centre where the swimming pool has a moving floor.  The lifeguard said it was the same depth as the lessons.

Now, the deep end of the pool means I am on my tippy toes but for smaller members of my family who are recently free of arm bands the tippy toes part spells danger for them. 

I issued strict and loud instructions to the newbie swimmers to wait until I got in first.    

I knew immediately they wouldn’t manage it.  It was way too deep for them.

The water started to bubble around me with frustration and annoyance.  I sourced an extra pair of arm bands for the five year old and the six year old managed just fine.  As long as he stuck to the side where he could grab hold of something when he needed a break.

If anyone else had taken my boys to the pool this morning there could have been a different outcome.  I’m not talking about a tragedy but definitely about two young boys getting into serious difficulty.

Not good enough.  Not good enough at all!

And to make things worse I’ve only got two fekin tea-bags left in the house. 

Annoyed?  I’m rightly pissed off now!

Don’t mind me.  I’m only letting off a bit of steam.

Striking a Balance

discovery.com

People often ask me how I strike the balance between kids and work/play/home life etc.

What is this balance you speak of, I always riposte back.

I admit to being stumped by the question and I wonder what my own mother’s response would have been as a non-driver Stay at Home Parent to 8 children.   We lived three miles outside town and didn’t have a phone in the house until we were teenagers.  It was also pre-internet era.

I would put money on her answer being, “we just got on with it” or “two feet on the ground and arse to the wind!”

I know I didn’t have balance when we had our first three children.  I jumped straight into the deep end and I stayed there.

I had taken a huge step back from the social scene and my only other outlet was with family members, attending my wonderful breast feeding meet up once a week and various on-line support groups.

Looking back I wasn’t sinking per se but I definitely wasn’t swimming well either.

I just bob, bob, bobbed along.

I considered myself lucky that mothering my babies was all I had to do.  I wasn’t returning to work.

I did experience deep and dark moments of depression but without entering into that here, they passed of their own accord.

When I was pregnant with our fourth son, I wasn’t in great form at the fifth month.  I was also anxious about post natal depression returning when the baby was born.

Thankfully, I was ok.  Our fourth fella was a great sleeper from that fabled 6 – 8 weeks milestone.  When he was four months old I decided to do something about the baby weight that was stubbornly hanging around since baby number two.

This is where I found my balance I think.  In the form of exercise. 

When I started walking to lose some weight, I took to it like a duck to water.  There is such a thing as muscle memory and I believe my body was kicked into touch with a little daily exercise. 

The dormant memories of what it was like to raise my heart beat a little and swing my arms, stretched and woke up.

After a while the seed to try running my circuit was planted and today, almost two and a half years later I run regularly. 

I never saw myself running for anything except maybe a bus and I really surprised myself.

I run because I love it. 

Another obvious and very satisfying benefit is I am now a little over three stone lighter.

I also write a blog, have a weekly column in a local newspaper and contribute regularly to Irish parenting magazines.

I experience regular frustration and resentment because it is hard to find the time to write with four boisterous boys whose own hobbies are demanding my attention.  To have three hours a couple of mornings a week just to devote to writing would be nothing short of luxurious. 

If I am to be completely honest however, I know I wouldn’t be satisfied with just three mornings a week.

I would quite happily spend all day every day in front of the computer.

But that wouldn’t be a balance at all.

This year we will have another boy starting school and I have great plans for at least two of those previously mentioned mornings.

Looks like that balance just might be mine after all.

Thinking about it, it seems I didn’t find a balance; the balance found me.

A Pat on the Back

Today I am giving myself a little pat on the back.  Why?  Purely because I feel like it. 

I am managing, for the most part, to raise healthy and happy kids.  They may go to bed with dirt under their fingernails but they are fed and warm.  And I get them there.  I get them to the end of the day and all of them in one piece.

I also get myself washed, dressed and fed.  Okay sometimes the food part is hit and miss but I have yet to leave the house wearing odd shoes.

There are days when I can’t see the forest for the trees.  It all seems so endless, so fruitless and the frustration I feel knows no bounds.  Those times can run into weeks and I go a bit ka-BLUE-y at the end. 

Then I found this.

I told myself to pin it to the fridge where I would see it a million times a day and just breathe.

On yet another day when I was struggling, this presented itself to me.   

www.thenest.ie

Trust what’s happening.

Trust it will be okay.

Trust all is well.

It comes from an uplifting blog post on www.thenest.ie and you can read it in its entirety here.

That single word trust has been my mantra for the last while.  During those days when I can’t see that forest for all of the crazy trees.  When my head is splitting with noise levels and frustration.

I trust that it is happening for a reason.  I trust that it will be okay and I trust all is well.

In fact, I know all is well.

That is why I am patting myself on the back.  And because I feel like it.  

A How a Why and a Sigh.

Currently we are living with an enquiring mind.  If anyone has a child who endeavours to know the ins and outs of everything, you know where I am coming from.

How funny it can be.  How endearing.  How educating.  How exhausting! 

Some of the questions I have been fielding and avoiding of late consist of the following:

How is grass made?  Is it a seed?  Why is it green?

How are people made?  Do people make people?  Who made you?

Who makes cars?  Why did John go to mechanic school?  Did you go to mechanic school?  

Why not?

Who makes the cold?  Why did they? Because I don’t like it!

Why do I have to eat berries?

Why is poo brown?  Why does it come out?  What would happen if it didn’t come out?

Why is the ground hard?  Why are balls bouncy?

Where is money made? 

Why do you still have boobies? 

Aren’t apples “healfy” foods?  And isn’t sugar not a “helfy” food?

On and on.  Sometimes I answer in the best way I can.  Sometimes I ask what he thinks the answer is and on these occasions he gets mad and says “fine! Don’t tell me then!”  Sometimes I lie and make up an answer which only adds to more why’s and what’s.  Sometimes I tell him to ask his daddy.  Sometimes I tell the truth and say I don’t know.

Today he asked me why is there bad luck?

We were walking across the road.  He’s not fussy about where we are when he asks me one of his endless questions.  When he wants to know something he needs to know there and then.

I was rushing as usual.  Well, it was bucketing down and we were on our way back to the car.  

Already drenched. 

“Why is there bad luck?”

I didn’t break my stride but the question stopped me.

Why indeed?

I told him people have bad luck because they can’t be lucky all of the time.  In the same way sometimes you get sick, because you can’t be well all of the time.  Like when you’re sad because it’s not possible to be happy all of the time.

Sometimes you have bad luck but you can have good luck too.

“Like finding a lucky penny?”

Exactly like finding a lucky penny I told him.

He told me he likes it when he finds lucky pennies and when he has too many of them, he gives some to “baba” because he wants him to have good luck too.

We both agreed that was a nice thing to do. 

“I love you, Mammy.”  Big blue eyes looked up at me. He tells me he loves me at least a dozen times a day and insists on hugging and kissing me as he imparts this information.

I did break my stride then.  To hell with the rain.  We were already soaked but I had bought tracksuit bottoms and we were close to where the car was parked so we could change soon.

I bent down to receive his kiss and hug. 

And I sighed. 

Sometimes you have bad luck but you can have good luck too.  Like finding a lucky penny.  Like having a Lovely Liam in your life.

Too Close for Comfort

There are two reoccurring themes whenever I read about a tragedy. Sound is one.  For me at least, I tend to focus on how the person sounded.  For example I read recently, “I will never forget the sound of Madame Veronique’s screams.” The other keynote is regret and how the bereaved lamented they parted on bad terms.

It was a normal day as normal goes even if we were celebrating a birthday.  Lovely Liam was being particularly demanding and looking for a lot of attention.  Typically when someone called to the house.

I was losing patience with him and told him so.  He insisted on dragging out of me as he jumped up and down, shouting at me to listen and repeating his, to me, unimportant demands.

It was a difficult afternoon.  Mid-week of the spring mid-term break. 

Later that evening I was upstairs removing nail polish and Lovely Liam followed me.  I asked him to stay clear of the nail polish remover in case it got knocked over.  Naturally, the smell attracted him and he came closer, bumping the bed and causing the bottle to wobble.

My tone was cross and my expression annoyed as I looked at him and in no uncertain terms asked him to move away until I was done.

He did.  And as he did so, he told me he doesn’t like it when I give out to him.

I explained I wanted to keep him (and my bed!) safe and that is why I was cross. 

I capped the bottle and invited him over for a smell.  He did so. Cautiously and for a split second, declaring it had gone right up his nose and he didn’t like it.

I refrained from saying “told you so” and we headed for the stairs.  He went down first and I glanced back to see my bedroom door was wide open and the light left on. 

I told Lovely Liam to head down stairs carefully and I would follow.

It took me all of two seconds to backtrack, switch off the light and pull the door after me.  I heard a small bump and I looked over the top landing to see Lovely Liam had tripped and was sitting on the stairs.

He let out a wail.

I began my descent and when I reached him he had turned and placed his legs through the gap between the treads on the stairs and was leaning forwards.

He looked up at me, his hands clutching his throat, his face puce and his eyes wide with horror.

He had been sucking a lollipop all the time he was with me!  He inhaled it when he tripped and it was stuck in his throat.

I grabbed him, lifted him up and got him down the last 6 or so steps.  I began to shake him, my version of the Heimlich manoeuvre and roared for Mister Husband.

It wasn’t working so I thumped him a few times.  Mister Husband was watching, not knowing what was happening. 

“Lollipop.”  I said.  “Lollipop!”

He took over and bent Lovely Liam double.  The lollipop was still stuck. 

All of this took place in about 15 seconds but I could feel that scream building in my throat and I had started to release it when Mister Husband stuck his fingers into Liam’s mouth and pulled the lollipop out, still attached to the stick.

It was no bigger than a gob stopper.

Lovely Liam and I sat on the stairs for several minutes with his arms wrapped around me, just hugging.

We spent the day at odds with each other and that scream was maybe an echo in my throat but I could still hear it.  The rawness of it.

When Lovely Liam finally did let me go, he put his hands around his throat again and declared “that was a close one, wasn’t it, Mammy?”

He has no idea.

A Disconnect

Spring is on the way.  I can feel it licking my face.  I can taste it.  There are snowdrops in my garden, buds on some of the trees, I have planters with daffodils peeping through and what about that glorious stretch in the evenings?    We have even discussed our summer holidays.    We are at that place already.

Also winter 2013/2014 has been the nicest, least stressful, almost enjoyable for as long as I can remember. 

As long as I can remember.

That’s a pretty long time. 

Everything nature driven is cyclical yet I find I am on high alert every year watching and waiting for the first signs of spring.  This year is the same.

But I have been experiencing a bit of a disconnect lately.  I’ve tried to put my finger on what it is exactly, but can’t seem to pin it down.   I’ve learned there is nothing to be gained trying to force what isn’t there so I’m running with it.

Most likely it’s got something to do with the time of year.  I know I could do with a good blast of sunshine right about now but I am having to settle on using a really good “tonic.”  

I am looking forward to that lovely stretch in the evenings moving a bit farther out so I can go running again.  I miss it.  I need it to free up my mind. 

I am on a bit of a go-slow. My best hours are usually between 10am and lunchtime and because this time is usually taken up by all things housework, meal prep, laundry and children, I have no choice at the moment but to go with that particular flow.

I’ve been finding it hard to blog “properly” since before Christmas.  It’s a combination of that old classic – not enough hours in the day – and rethinking what I want to blog about.  

Once the boys go to bed my brain flat lines on a subconscious level.  It always has done.     

It looks like I am in synch with the seasons and until I get my groove back on and the leaves are on the trees, I’ll be blogging a bit less than usual.

And until I feel connected again I tend to take it a bit easier.

Smoking. Part II

www.irishcancer.ie  Data from the HSE shows that one in every two smokers will die from a smoking related illness. 

On January 10^th this year, ex-Marlborough Man Eric Lawson died from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.  He was 72.

At least four of the Marlborough Men have died from smoking related illnesses. 

In March it will be 10 years since Ireland introduced the ban on smoking in work places.  Currently legislation to ban smoking in vehicles carrying children has been approved by Health Minister James Reilly and will be enforced before the Summer. 

In Part II of Smoking I speak with an older person who has seen the changes and influences of smoking down through the years.  I chat to the social smoker and to someone who has successfully kicked the habit.   You can catch up with Part I here.

Eric Lawson

The Older Smoker.  Aine, aged 61

Have you been smoking all of your life?

“I started when I was about 17.”

How many would you smoke a day?

“I smoke 5 a day at the moment.  When I was smoking more I never had more than 15 a day.”

Have you ever tried to quit?

“Yes, but not too hard.  Maybe 5 or 6 times.”

Why weren’t you successful?

“Because I didn’t really want to quit, I suppose.  The way I looked at it was I am only smoking 10 or 15 a day and I am going to enjoy them.”

Do you think smoking has decreased in popularity over the years?

“Yes, I do.  I think teenagers today are more aware of the dangers of smoking.”

What do you think of Gerry Collins and the current HSE non-smoking campaign?  Do you think it will work?

“My heart went out to him!  I think it will work because he is very genuine and it is heart-breaking to watch him and hear him talk about dying.  Plus the devastation his illness is causing is family.”

What about the packaging on cigarettes today?  Do they deter smoking?

“I don’t think they (the pictures) will make any difference to those who are already smoking but they might stop someone who is thinking about it.” 

What would you say to someone today who was thinking of starting?

“Don’t!  Just don’t!”

The Successful Quitter.  Liz aged 37

How old were you when you had your first smoke?

“I took my first drag at around 13 and I was grand, wasn't spluttering or anything and I think that was because my lungs etc. were used to smoke as my parents smoked for as long as I can remember.”

What influenced you to take that first cigarette?

“Probably other kids/teenagers also having them - it was "cool", I know that sounds pathetic, but it was and in a gang, if you didn't smoke, you kind of were different and no one likes to be different. So yeah, I'll have a smoke, fit in with the gang and all that!”

Did your parents know you smoked?  How did they find out? 

“In the end yes, but not when I was in school. I got questioned a few times about the colour of my fingers (from holding it wrong) but I never got caught by the smell.”

What was their reaction?

“Disappointment, that I was wasting my money and life on them.”

Did your parents smoke?  Do you think their smoking had an influence on you starting?

“Yes.  Yes as my body was used to smoke.”

Did you experience any peer pressure to smoke?

“I said before that I started to be cool, but there was no peer pressure to start, probably cos I never said no.”

What do you think about the current HSE non-smoking campaign with Gerry Collins?  Do you think it will have an effect?

“Honestly, if I was a smoker and watched it and still enjoyed smoking, I don't think it would influence me to stop. I always knew that smoking kills and I saw the pictures of lungs etc. and if I wanted to still smoke, it would not make me stop. It is a good campaign though and may work on others.”

What made you quit? 

“Two things that happened at the same time - I stopped enjoying smoking and I needed a new (2nd hand) car. So I looked at the amount I spent a month on 25 cigarettes a day and how much I would need for a car loan and the car loan was less than a month’s smoking. The penny dropped - I needed something to go off in my head to trigger the need to stop. So I read Alan Carr's 2nd Easyway book (its bigger with smaller print) in 3 days and it worked. On the 3rd day I got the box with about 10 left in it as I finished the book and threw them in the bin.”

How long did it take? 

“3 days - I think that it will either happen immediately or won't. As in if you wean yourself off with less and less each day, you are still a smoker…whether you smoke 1 a day or 40. You smoke!”

Were there many attempts before you succeeded?

“I had tried about 2-3 times previously but I know now that nothing went off in my head, and I was fighting a losing battle, its mind over matter. There is a switch in there and that has to click for you to give up.”

How long are you “off them?”

“10 years - but in those 10 years, I have had 2 drunken cigarettes and after the 3rd puff, I was feeling ill, so I had the desired effect. I definitely don't see myself ever becoming a smoker again.”

How do you feel now?

“Great - I just wish I could find the switch in my head for weight loss!”

Do you think packaging makes a difference? 

“No, I don't think it matters - for me personally, I would still smoke and you can always come up with your own box to use instead of the graphic ones if they really put you off. If you want to smoke, you will always find a way around any upsets or issues.”

What would you say to someone today who was thinking of starting?

“Don't...cos no one cool smokes these days. I would also say that giving up is one of my greatest achievements. I know that sounds absolutely mental to a non-smoker, but to me it is something I never thought would happen.”

The Social Smoker.  Dee.  In her thirties.

When did you start?

“When I was about 14, I wanted to be cool like the older kids in the theatre group I was in. I didn’t inhale for at least another year though! I went through stages, in university I was a very heavy smoker 1-2 packs a day when I could afford it and even when I couldn’t. Was about half a pack a day as a younger adult and the day I found out I was pregnant with my first I was 22, I threw my pack out the window on the way home from the doctor and vowed never to smoke again. I quit throughout the pregnancy and then started again with the odd one here or there at night. This continued until my next pregnancy where I quit again and continued to stay off them while I breastfed for about a year after. Again I started having a few sneaky ones at night when the kids were in bed. This continued for 6 years until I was pregnant again, same story. Back to the sneaky fags after I finished breastfeeding.”

Do you ever smoke at home or elsewhere?

“Yep, outside at night when the kids are in bed. If I’m out without the kids I would smoke a lot more. Have never smoked in front of them. Would also smoke more when drinking.”

How do you avoid the addiction to nicotine?

“Try to distract myself.”

How do you prevent withdrawal symptoms or do you experience any?

“I just deal with them really.”

Do you buy your own cigarettes?

“Yes.”

Regarding the graphic packaging on cigarettes, how does this make you feel?

“Honestly it doesn’t bother me. Kind of silly really, all smokers know what they’re doing, a graphic package isn’t going to change a damn thing, they need to WANT to quit.”

Do your family know you have the odd smoke?

“Himself does because he’s my partner in crime. The wider family know we used to smoke but have no idea we still do and would not approve at all. I still get nervous about my Dad catching me smoking as if I’m a kid again.”

To speak to a specialist cancer nurse, Freephone the national Cancer Helpline on 1800 200 700. Monday – Thursday 9am – 7pm & Friday 9am – 5pm.