Five Friday Favourites.

HAS something shifted in your house since earlier this week?  Has a certain calmness descended, a new routine emerged?

With us it takes anything from a week to ten days for everyone to adjust to a change in routine.  Specifically the transition from school time to school holiday time.

I believe we have transitioned.  (Love that word.  So damn satisfying)

It’s been a lovely week.  I thoroughly enjoyed it so I thought I might list five nice things that happened on this, the seventh day of our school holidays and call them Five Friday Favourites.

Sleep and Breakfast. A new routine in this department has definitely emerged. I haven’t been up before 8.30am most mornings then gotten dressed in a leisurely fashion instead of the usual cartoon routine of washing my face and applying deodorant at the same time whilst stepping over the dog on my way back to the bedroom.  It has been another half hour before the last person to wake up appears.  I have also gone from making pancakes twice a week to every flippin’ morning for breakfast.  It’s not a bad thing though.  I can make them in my sleep at this point and they are a firm favourite with the boys.  They never seem to tire of them and it means they are nicely full for the most part of the morning.

Swimming.  Every. Day.  This has been absolute bliss.  Lowering myself into the pool at 10am is nothing short of hedonistic. One morning there were two other people enjoying the water so we practically had the place to ourselves.  Oh, the lads love it too in case you were wondering.

Picnics. Well, we managed one so far but it was a spur of the moment decision and despite changing the venue at the last minute, it was a rip roaring success.  Full of “thank you for bringing us” and “can we come back?” and “that was amazing!” after two hours of tearing about.  And all I did was cook two pizzas, a marshmallow brownie type desert and throw an old curtain over the picnic bench.  Even the dog fell asleep when we got home. 

Journals. The older boys requested a journal each during the week in which to record their “hunts,” “hunger games challenges” and “stories.”  I broke into my notebook collection, (yes, I have one) gave them each a pencil and off they went.  Scribbling away and asking me how to spell all sorts for the day.  Great stuff to watch and isn’t the way kids spell everything phonetically really funny and endearing?

      

Decking.  Wine. Weather.  Bliss.  Bliss.  Bliss.  All three together.  Throw in a good book and I was in heaven for the first half of this week. 

In other news, I worse a beige linen trousers on our picnic.  Delighted with myself.  Walked the small wood with four kids and one dog and everything.  Delighted with myself.  Later on that same day when I took off the linen trousers I saw what I knew was a smushed lump of chocolate brownie on the backside of it.  But I know the 67 people who saw me between the hours of 2pm and 11pm thought it was shite!

Ah, well.  At least there’s sleep again, right?  Oh and wine. 

What Summer is for.

www.wonderfulwagon.com

In the winter I sit at the computer most afternoons.  The boys do their homework, watch a bit of the goggle box, play with Lego and eat snacks.  I write.  Bits and pieces. Sometimes actually finishing something.

These days I am outside.  I sit on the decking outside the back door reading a book as the boys jump on the trampoline or play with the water sprinkler.  On the really, really hot days they stay inside watching TV, opting to wait till after 6pm before they go out.  Then it’s 10pm or after before they come in, filthy, happy and demanding cereal with cold milk or hot chocolates with loads of marshmallows.  They always, even at 10pm, take them outside to the garden table and eat out there. I know once they do this, I can say goodbye (or goodnight) to another half hour at least before they come inside.

I love the way rain feels on my face. I like the bite of an icy morning.  I feel calm when it’s the stillness of winter. But there is something special about summer sun.

Something encouraging, driving, happy and warm.  Something alive.

So far this summer we have eaten our tea outside.  A tea of pizza with a glass of wine for me.  Swam every day.  Bought water pistols.  Attended birthday parties.  Declined paddling pool invitations because it was too hot to drive and the boys were happy at home.  Baked brownies.  

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Discussed our own holidays.  Played football.  Washed school bags, lunch bags, and uniforms and packed them away.  Pre-ordered some books on line.  Lost two teeth.  Same boy.  

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Discovered what a bouncy castle burn feels like.  Went cycling in the evenings.  Ate lots and lots of breakfast cereal.  And pancakes.  Made home-made ice-pops.  Read books.

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We aren’t even finished the first week of school holidays yet and I am already looking forward to the rest of the break.

There are fights and loud bust-ups followed by threats of treat embargos and an end to the swimming pool. Lots of loud complaints about being bored.  Until 6pm and then I don’t see them for dust.

When they ask why we don’t do anything in the afternoons I tell them it is because I want to sit at home, outside in the glorious sunshine, soaking it up and in.  Reading my book and relaxing.  

Just being.

After all that is what summer is for.

Maximol Food Supplement Review

I have suffered with cold sores all my life.  There are school photographs of me grinning manically at the camera and bearing the most awful looking chapped lips.  Cold sores happened along in my teens and I was treated to them regularly from then on and well into my twenties.  When I was pregnant with our first child I suffered one after the other for about a month until I discovered I was with child.  For the next three pregnancies all I needed was tingling teeth plus a tingling lip to confirm the happy news. 

Regular and reoccurring breakouts of cold sores can be a sign that your body is lacking an essential amino acid called Lysine.  The body cannot manufacture this so we depend on it from food.  Taking Lysine supplements can help rectify this deficiency.

But once the blister has formed there is nothing for it except to wait the bastard out.  It’s gross, it’s downright painful and horribly unsightly.  I was so embarrassed and self-conscious about my breakouts.

Thankfully the virus calmed down in my thirties and my attacks are less frequent today.  But they still occur.

Imagine my horror and upset when our eldest child started to suffer.  Looking at his toddler pictures, he had one or two even back then.

The guilt I felt upon realising it was me who passed on the virus knew no bounds.

Sugar is his main trigger.  I know following certain times of the year, Halloween, birthday parties, Easter and other sugar filled festivals, he will be sporting a cold sore within five days.

He made his First Holy Communion recently and I was Minding Him.  I needn’t have bothered.  

Sods law saw to it that one appeared three days before the day.  I didn’t know whether to be delighted or incensed when the photographer airbrushed the offending blemish from his school photo.  (I was delighted!)

We discovered a fantastic cream that helps speed up the recovery process a great deal.  It is called bio-propolis and available in your pharmacy or health food shop.

Then verruca’s put in a very unwelcome appearance. 

I had one myself when I was in my late teens but didn’t know what it was.  After a couple of months of increasing discomfort, I stuck a corn pad onto the lump on the sole of my foot.  It stuck hard and fast and offered immediate relief.

Then something odd happened.  The skin around the corn pad started to lift and everything came away – including the verruca and its dangling roots. 

I know.  Gross.  Apologies.  But it was gone.  Never to return.

Now both of my eldest boys are sporting verrucae. 

Oh, cold sores and verruca’s are first cousins.  Ain’t family grand?

My sister in law who is a podiatrist, enlightened me about a product she has been recommending to her clients to treat this nuisance.  She has received fantastic feedback regarding repeated success.

This product is called Maximol.  A liquid food supplement renowned for boosting the immune system.

Adults take 15mls daily and children over the age of 4 take 7.5mls.  It is a thousand times more palatable if taken with a good splash of orange juice or whatever your preferred morning juice might be.

I decided to join my boys in the taking of this magic elixir.  We are heading into our third month now and at €35 per 500ml it ain’t cheap BUT oldest boys verruca has kind of turned inside out. 

To explain.  It is not like a hard lump anymore but has sort of burst open.  So sorry for the graphic description but a verruca is essentially a wart that grows from the inside out.  And it has reached its out!!!!

The second boy’s verruca has taken off at a rate of knots and is looking like it will need its own passport very soon.  It has definitely “blossomed” at a much faster rate than his older brothers and I am putting this down to him starting the Magic Elixir sooner rather than later.

I am hoping for a death knell with oldest boys within the next month.

And in other news where Maximol is concerned.  Because I have been taking it with the boys I can report that my sugar cravings have been noticeably weaker over the last two months or so.

PLUS we ran out before the Easter holidays and I haven’t been able to replace it as of yet.  As a result I have developed the nastiest, biggest and scariest looking cold sore in YEARS on my chin.

Maybe it is a coincidence but I am attributing this alien appearance on my face to the absence of Maximol.

It is an ongoing experiment but so far I like what it is doing.  And I plan to continue to use it.  

Once the boys’ verrucae are healed they will stop taking it but I most certainly will continue to.  Especially over the winter.

****   With three of us partaking of 500mls we get approximately one month per bottle. 

***** If you or other family members have a verruca please note they are highly contagious.  Little shits!     Don’t share towels or walk about in bare feet.

****** It is rumoured that if you starve the verruca of air, it doesn’t like it.  So get cracking with some heavy duty Elastoplast or duct tape and tape it down.  Filing the pesky thing with a piece of emery board keeps it in check too.

******* I have read (and heard) that verrucae are a feared of banana skin.  If you feel like a little experiment, stick the teeniest tiniest piece of banana skin, white side down, onto the imposter as you sleep.

******** It is also rumoured that over half of verrucae go away of their own accord within a year.

FOOTNOTE:  This post has been sitting waiting patiently to be published for over a month now.  In that time, one of my boys can report a disappearing verruca.  It is all but gone.  Our local pharmacy was unable to supply us with Maximol for a month due to low stocks from the manufacturers.  Three weeks on, there is a huge improvement in the verruca.  I am expecting it to be gone completely by the end of the month!  

Five High Fives

On this most auspicious week in June it has come to my attention, not for the first time, I have much to be thankful for.

First off your health is your wealth springs to mind immediately.  Okay so my back doesn’t wake up for a half an hour after the rest of me these days but a regime of running, a 30 day ab challenge and some morning stretches is either going to cure that or make it much worse.

‘Course I am going to scoop that 12 million lottery jackpot tonight and I won’t give a fiddlers about my back or my abs.  It will be all about the spending.

Secondly school holidays are just around the corner.  For the last couple of years I have dreaded and embraced them in equal measures.  They are going to be great and they are going to push me over the edge.  But I am taking wine for that so I should be grand.

My third high five sees me arriving at a conclusion with the help of a small person.   For the last few months two of our boys have taken agin school.  One is in primary school and has, god love him, no choice in the matter.  The other chap is luckier.  It is only Montessori and there are all of three weeks left till he finishes for ever and ever amen.  Both boys have experienced different but equal amounts of stress and distress over their respective schools.  A teacher and a principal have my older sons back and I have decided to listen to my gut with the other.  He doesn’t need to go to school if he doesn’t want to.  Hopefully this decision will put an end to the sudden 5am wake ups and the constant “is it school today?” questions from the night before, to the early wake up and through the remainder of the day.  The older boy I fear, will need gentle assistance and some positive guidance but we can work on that in September.  After I check out some resources and chat to a couple of people.

No. 4 covers school reports.  These arrived today and made me smile and glow with pride.  Formal education is important but I focused on the social aspect of their reports.  Whilst I disagreed somewhat with one report and wondered if all the impromptu meetings and phone calls were just an out of body experience, Oldest Boy’s didn’t surprise me at all.  He’s grand. More than and I hope he continues to grow, to learn and enjoy his education.

The big five.  A phone call I have been waiting for since Easter has finally come through.  It will involve some “s- blend” speech therapy.  It’s been a bit of a pain and ongoing since January with the revelation that we needn’t have spent a single penny.  But what’s done is done and I am expecting great results as he was flying with the private sessions.

And finally.  The Leaving Cert began today.  Thank god that part of my life is over.

Oh wait.  Was that 6 high fives?  Aren’t I lucky? 

A Little Pep Talk

 A little pep talk for the day that’s in it.  Because today is as good a day, if not better than any other, for a pep talk.

Are you familiar with the helpful, insightful and profound life affirming messages Facebook likes to share with everyone  The ones that proclaim to know the secret to a happy life, telling you how to side step toxicity and just be happy?

Those ones.

The ones that if you adjusted the volume on your computer a little bit, would most likely chirp at you.  If they spoke it would be in a bright, annoyingly uplifting, high pitched voice.

Those ones.

If you are anything like me, you find yourself nodding furiously along to 5% of them and telling yourself to make that one your screen saver and stick the other one on your fridge door.

Last summer I saw a brilliant one and I embarked on a fruitless endeavour to source stencils in order to print it on the wall at the top of the stairs.  Where I would see it every day.

I know!

A whole year has passed and I still think about that uplifting message.  But I am no nearer to doing it.  In my heart of hearts I know it will never get done.

I enjoy those messages and I can take something from some of them but you know what I have realised? 

We don't need them!

When someone says something shitty to you, it is an indication of their own insecurities and they are just taking those out on you.  They see something that they like or covet and instead of enjoying your success and happiness, decide to take you down a peg to make themselves feel better.

Does that make any sense at all?

It’s hard and it’s shitty least of all because you come away feeling drained and upset, tired and a bit down for no good reason.

But really what has happened is the person you have just spent maybe only ten minutes with, drip fed their crap into your mind and sucked the warm fuzzies out of you.

So what can be done to prevent this in future?

The minute that person starts to suck the life out of you leave!  Take yourself away and don’t allow them to.  Take back the power.

If your inner light has been quenched before you even cotton onto what it happening, it’s still not too late.

If you feel like crap, feel it and then push it away.  Remind yourself that you have gotten to this part of the day intact and do not allow anyone to rain on your parade.

Then do something nice for yourself.   Buy something; to wear, to eat, to read.  If it takes spending your last twenty quid on a frivolous treat to make you feel better, do it.

I broke a plate one day to heal myself.  And maybe a cup.  But it worked.   I needed a little outward explosion to destroy the rot that was taking place inside me.   

Then, and this is the important bit, stay away from such people. 

It may not always be possible and there may be random connections, but if you can at all, make the effort to protect yourself from them.

In the scenario that there is absolutely no escaping their presence, arm yourself against them.

Be reminded of your achievements and good qualities.  Breathe slowly and evenly and if conversation is engaged, keep it short and sweet. 

Make your excuses as soon as you can and leave their company.

And don’t re-visit the visit.  If you get me.  Don’t analyse the conversation.  Move on and away.

With your last twenty euro in your hand if needs be.

I leave you with this little picture.

  

Disclaimer:  I am aware I have included several positive and affirming messages.  But they are nice ones and I like them.  Okay?

Why I Don't Love the Buddy System

Photo credit: Paul Kuehnel Daily Record/Sunday News (Buddy Bench)

You may or may not have heard of the latest initiative that many primary schools across the country are rolling out.

It is called The Buddy System and it involves each child being assigned a “buddy” which is essentially someone to look out for them in the school yard or during times when they might feel lonely or vulnerable. 

It can also include allocating an area in the school yard for those who don’t have someone to play with or are feeling lonely to go to.  This area usually has a Buddy Bench, a seat for the child to rest themselves on.  Some schools use a sign on a wall. 

The thought behind the bench and the sign is, other children will notice a child who is alone and [hopefully] approach them and include them in their games.

I felt uncomfortable immediately upon hearing this.

Some kids are introverts and their energy is drained by settings like the school yard.  It can be a very intimidating place for small kids.  Oftentimes they feel a strong need to break away from the madness and regroup by themselves.  This is perfectly okay. 

Similarly a lot of kids don’t like it when attention is drawn to them.  The last thing they need is to sit on or stand beside something that, no matter what way it’s painted, shouts “Loner” “Loser” “Billy No Mates” and “I have no-one to play with.”

The Buddy System has its merits but as a parent speaking for a child who needs his own space and really dislikes people approaching him during this time, I don’t love the Buddy System.  I don’t love it at all.

He would rather die a thousand deaths than stand under such a sign, or have someone ask, no matter how well intentioned, if he is okay and does he need company.

It only serves to highlight what some kids are struggling with and striving to hide in the first place; the belief that they are the only one in the yard without a playmate and not included in the fun and games. This is how many of them see it.    

My son can feel this acutely at times but it makes it worse for him if he feels other people notice it.

Sometimes kids just want to be alone.  Maybe that stone they are examining or the trail of ants they are following is much more fascinating than a game of tag or a conversation about Minecraft.  Just maybe.

I also don’t think it’s hugely fair to expect one six year old, for example, to essentially baby-sit another in the school yard.  They are there to play, to enjoy their down time from lessons and not have responsibility that they may not be ready for, or want, placed on their shoulders.

Do teachers not monitor the yard for this very reason?

I accept it is a nice idea and very important to foster empathy and friendliness in others.  

But perhaps it is more important to recognise and understand the differences in children and what puts them at ease or sets their teeth on edge and their skin itching through being uncomfortable. 

Or just leave them be to get on with break-time as they see fit.  I know this is what my son would prefer.     

Stop Bursting my Bubble!

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“It doesn’t actually get any easier, you know.”

“Wait till they’re teenagers.”

“It gets harder/crazier/more expensive the older they get.”

Stop!  No more!  It’s too hard.  Stop bursting my bubble.  I am in a good place at the moment.  There’s sleep.  There’s wine.  The odd night out or two.  I’ve had a few hangovers recently.  The words “lie-on” are once again part of my vocabulary.  I now eat dinner at the conventional time of in the middle of the day.  Not like yesteryear when I was forced out of my bed at dawn and dined at 11am.  There are whole cups of coffee made and finished these days.

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Stop bursting my bubble.  I am in a good place at the moment.  They’ve all got teeth now. Bye bye horrendously painful teething.  They all eat proper food.  Bye bye tediously messy and frustrating solid food stage. Most of them can put on their own clothes.  The odd underpants goes on horribly wrong and shoes are often put on the wrong feet but that’s okay.  I am still brushing four sets of teeth but I’m grand with that too.  It’s all in the name of reducing future dental bills.  Three quarters of them can do up their own seat belts in the car.  They can all help themselves to snacks.  It’s all coming good.

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So please.  Stop bursting my bubble.  I am in a good place at the moment.  There’s sports.  Swimming and football.  Trips to the library.  Three out of four of them are old enough to sit still at the cinema.  The buggy is all but an accessory now.  I am months away from being nappy free.  We might even be able to pack away the cot after our summer holiday where he will probably need to sleep in a bed.  Telling them “no” is met with reasonable acceptance.  This year, three of them will be in school.

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So please.  Stop bursting my bubble.  Let me enjoy where I am at the moment.   It’s still messy.  Very definitely louder than I would like.  Bath times drain any last drop of energy I may have in my reserve tank. I am demented buying clothes for them all the time.  Hand me downs don’t work when knees, elbows and backsides are ripped out.   Shoes are definitely not made like they once were.   Their hobbies and interests are expensive and can be short lived phases. I have accepted that the inside of my house will probably always look like the aftermath of a rave until they are of an age to move out.  My grocery bill scares me.  Driving a tank for a car is another financial drain.   

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But it’s good.  It’s better.  Dare I say I am enjoying it at long last?  Sometimes.  Maybe not often.  But I realise I prefer the older age to the toddler one.  And there are no more toddlers in our house.   It’s all onwards and upwards from here on out and I am happy with that.

I am very happy with that.

So please.  At the risk of repeating myself.  Stop bursting my bubble and let me enjoy being in this manageable stage.  *I will deal with whatever the pre-teen and the full on, riddled with hormones teenage stage throws at me.

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*I hope.  But I know where to find you if I need some advice.  You can even say I told you so.  And I will try not to snap your head off.  Much love. xx