Children

All the feels…..

09/12/2013 by MrsSavageAngel Leave a Comment

This week Oscar hit me.

He lent back in my arms, looked at me, pursed his lips and slapped me across the face.

Yeah, it shocked me too.

Maybe I should give a little context. We have had a pretty tiring week. As Oscar moves closer and closer to the terrible twos his mood swings are starting to resemble the most petulant teenagers. Only, he doesn’t flounce out of the room, slamming doors in his wake, yelling how much he hates me down the stairs. No he freaks out right in front of me and makes me worry for his safety.

This weeks best effort, the one as described above, was made all the more baffling as I honestly couldn’t tell you what set him off. We came downstairs, I made his milk, we went to sit together to drink it AS WE DO EVERY MORNING, and kerblammo, he freaked out big. Screaming, crying, kicking – whatever had upset him was being felt in every fibre of his being. Which made it all the harder for me. I tried ignoring him, I tried talking to him calmly, I tried holding him – I wanted him to know that whatever it was, it was OK. That was when he hit me.

This maelstrom went on for half an hour, until the boy felt he’d finished whatever point it was he was making. Then he came to me, took my hand, walked me back to the chair, climbed on my lap and pointed at his bottle. As though nothing happened. I felt physically and mentally battered and he wanted his milk? WTF?

So OK, I didn’t keep my cool all the way through this episode. I tried being firm and I lost my patience. But the worst of it was seeing so angry and yet scared looking broke my heart. It made me cry, in front of the boy. Not helpful, not helpful at all.

Later on I started reading articles online about Intense or Big Reactors, children, particularly toddlers who feel things so deeply but don’t have the control or language to express these feelings. It sounded so familiar. The more I read the more I could relate. And not just for Oscar. I am probably an Intense Reactor by nature too and talking to my mum it would seem I always have been. Children like this don’t deal well with transitions from one state to another (waking, going to bed, moving from one activity to another). Every time we left a friends house I would scream so much my mum worried people thought that I was scared to go home. I only remember feeling so sad to be leaving. I’ve also been told my entire life that I always need to know what we were “doing next”. I’d get set up with paints or playdoh or whatever, I’d play for a minute then ask what we were “doing next”. My parents found it maddening I’m sure. But now I think about it, maybe I wasn’t bored, maybe I just needed to know what to expect. What was coming next? I’m still a bit like that now!

As well as describing whats going on, the internet also offers various coping strategies. These seem to revolve around two principles: keeping calm and giving these children the language they don’t yet posses. These are both things that will require practice and I know I’m not there yet. But I will be. I will practice my calm face and give Oscar warnings when things are about to happen. Lets see how it goes.

After reading these articles it all made a lot of sense. Oscar feels things deeply. And that’s OK. He’s going to be passionate and creative and sparky. I smiled. Then I looked at him and realised he’s also going to get his heart broken. Good and proper. It breaks my heart just to think about it. But do you know?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar and the den….

02/12/2013 by MrsSavageAngel Leave a Comment

I know I’ve talked about the pointlessness of comparing one child to another before. They’re all different and will do their stuff in their own time. Fact. But recently I’ve taken to reading some mommy/mummy blogs and man have I found myself comparing the things I do for Oscar and the life we lead, to other peoples!

At the beginning I felt inspired. I could make play dough like that, or I could make peppermint scented candy cane coloured sensory rice like that. But the more I read, the less I did. I stopped feeling so inspired and started feeling like what we were doing wasn’t enough. I started looking around at other parents in the social media stratosphere and even things that had never bothered me before suddenly made me feel like I was failing.

So OK, maybe this lack of action was the problem. Reading and not doing was bringing me down. So I tried to do some stuff. One of the blogs I read had a post about how she’d made her daughter a den out of her bed (she has a sort of day bed) and some girly blankets, which she then adorned with fairy lights. They author wrote how they spent the afternoon together in this den, cuddled up reading books. It looked and sounded perfect and easy to do. But I have a son. A boy who needs to know what everything is and how everything works. My den lasted all of a minute, before Oscar pulled it to pieces, jumped on top of the sheets and climbed over the top of the sofa. What great larks for him!

I was heart broken. I couldn’t even make a stupid den work.

It’s so hard not to compare yourself to other parents, particularly if you’re new to this game. You may have been a complete individual before you had kids, an innovator, a leader. But once you have children all that self assurance goes out of the window. Once they had children, even the most confident women I know, could be found huddled over their lattes comparing the lives they were giving their little darlings. And I don’t believe it gets any easier the older the children get. Weaning methods and sensory play gives way to birthday parties and academic achievement.

Why? Why do we feel the need to do this? Maybe “we” don’t, maybe its just me. But I would bet Oscar’s homemade playdough, (that I binned in favour of the shop bought stuff – bad mummy 😉 ) that it’s not just me. Why can’t I just be inspired and happy for the differences in the lives our children lead? Difference is what makes us interesting isn’t it? I’m not a particularly competitive person (unless I’m in a pub quiz team – then you’ll see a different Lisa altogether!) and the thought of competing against my friends or worse still people I don’t even know is just bonkers. I mean I don’t know the reality of the situation behind those gorgeous photos. I heard someone say the other day, that social media allows us to present the best version of ourselves. And my rational mind knows this applies to our parenting too. Oh but it’s just so easy to look at the soft focus, angled photos of a smiling, tousled haired child, intently painting a masterpiece with homemade glitter paint or reading books in a den lit with friggin’ fairy lights and want the same thing. Even when you know your child would eat the paint and climb on the top of the den, probably electrocuting themselves in the process.

Sigh

I gave up on the den for now. I’ve bought him a cheap pop up teepee for Christmas instead. Who knows it might even stay up long enough for him to read a book in it. I tell you what though. I wont be adorning it with fairy lights. Because he’s not her. He’s him. And I’m me. It’s OK to be inspired, but nothing good will come of comparing myself to others. I just need to remember that. And maybe cut back on the mummy blogs – for a while anyway 😉 !

In Sickness and in Health…..

18/11/2013 by MrsSavageAngel Leave a Comment

This week has been a funny old week. Oscar’s been poorly.

Woah, I hear you shout, stop the presses, child in “gets sick” shocker!

Yes I know, I know. Children get sick all the time. Their noses run at the slightest thing; a cold, the cold, teething, frustration at being unable to get the lid of their click and click box. I hadn’t really thought about it until a few weeks ago, when a young and childless relative of a friend pointed out that every child round the table had a disgustingly runny nose and that none of us were particularly bothered about this. It’s just one of the facts of young childhood, you know like carrot puree or tantrums.

Anyway my point is children get ill. Oscar’s had a myriad of colds and even one bout of sickness bug, which may or may not have been RotaVirus. But he hasn’t ever been really ill. You know the kind of illness that has a proper name, or requires drugs other than Calpol (liquid paracetamol and every mothers best friend). I’m not really sure why this is. We go out almost every day. He mingles with other children at various groups. He drinks their drinks and eats their food. He came up to me at Toddler group a couple of weeks ago happily munching a chocolate biscuit, which I didn’t give him (I hope another adult gave him it from the coffee bar and that he didn’t just pick up a discarded one from the floor – or worse take it out of another child’s hands! How embarrassing!) He’s just a fairly robust little chap. I think this may be a trait he’s picked up from his dad. Despite being a smoker, Ben hardly ever gets colds and has only been really seriously ill once since I met him (Glandular Fever, 1998). Oscar has never had an infection, or needed antibiotics or ended up in hospital (quick touch some wood!)

This week, Oscar got Croup. Yeah I know, I didn’t really know what it was either and everyone in Ben’s office thought it was some kind of Victorian disease that urchins got from going up the chimneys. Actually its a virus that affects the windpipe and larynx. Only young children get it as their pipes are so narrow anyway (so for example if I catch the same virus I’d just likely have a sore throat & cold). In children it manifests in a mean cough and somewhat laboured breathing. (It can also result in such narrowed airways that the child needs steroids or adrenaline administered in hospital but I’m told this is only in extreme cases). What it is however is scary to see. It started on Tuesday, we went to the docs on Wednesday (who diagnosed croup, gave me a leaflet about the condition and told me to call an ambulance if Oscar was to turn blue!) and by Friday it was awful. I knew it was awful because the child, who when he’s tired or ill wont get sleepy but more hyper, sat on my lap, under the blanket, with his head on my chest and nearly fell asleep. That evening he coughed so hard he threw up all his milk.

When I had a few minutes I mentioned it on FB and once again a huge number of people came to my side, with offers of advice or solidarity. My neighbour offered us a loan of a humidifier, which we took her up on, other people offered to go out and get things for us. Another friend text me and explained the process they’d gone through when her son had croup. I was overwelmed with kindness and would like to say a big THANK YOU to you all!

As it turned out, Friday night was the worst of it. He hardly slept and Ben was a star with him, both through the night and then getting Oscar up at 5.30. By Saturday lunchtime I was starting to get a bit nervous as his chest seemed to be straining awfully hard. I text a paedeatric nurse friend for advice. She offered to come look at him. Then he ate his tea. First proper meal he’d eaten all week (scrambled eggs and tiny bits of toast) and it was like a new child had emerged. I cancelled the friend’s visit. How could it go from that to this in such a short time? Bloody kids!!!!!!! Scaring the bejesus out of me one minute and wanting to play blocks the next!

Our instinct as adults, as parents, is to protect our children. We spend hours researching illnesses and discussing safety measures and that’s brilliant. We should be knowledgeable about something so important. So it goes against nature to take a step back and remember how resilient a child can be. They have to be, they’ve had to survive this far.

He’s still sounds like he smokes 60 a day and has the ubiquitous runny nose, but my boy is doing grand. And I know this wont be the last scare he’ll give me. I know I’ll look back and think, “sheesh, remember when I got upset about that bout of Croup? That was jack compared to this!!”. But I have to remember he is a resilient little bugger and for that I am grateful.

Now, where’s that bottle of Calpol….

Different but the same….

11/11/2013 by MrsSavageAngel Leave a Comment

Recently I’ve been looking for something to do with Oscar that isn’t just about him running around. Don’t get me wrong – Oscar is a child that gets a lot from running around, but I am keen to exercise his mental abilities as well as his physical capabilities. When I heard Lana, a friend from toddler group and a qualified teacher, was setting up a pre-school maths course we were keen to give it a go. Ben was super keen – I think he’s trying to temper my somewhat language based background with his more science based one (he’s always going on about how he can’t wait to “do a science” with the boy). So we signed up to a course with Top Banana Learning and had our first session last Wednesday.

BJ721_-_Abacus

The idea is to introduce children to the concepts and language of maths from a really early age and I have to say he’s loving the counting based song and stories we’re sharing with him at home. Wednesday’s class was great fun (who doesn’t love a pirate themed counting game?), really well planned and executed with real enthusiasm. The only thing I wasn’t expecting was that Oscar was the oldest child in the group by about 6 months, if not older. It doesn’t sound like much but the differences were clear. He wanted to run around and look at everything, while the younger children sat or crawled slowly. I feared for their little fingers and despite being a completely average size for his age he loomed over the younger ones like a giant. What I wasn’t prepared for was how this was going to make me feel. I felt like I was back at Baby Sensory which, for me, was not a good experience.

When Oscar was 6 months old we did a Baby Sensory course. Baby Sensory is a fantastic concept and enables the youngest of children to develop their senses in a fun way. Although there was a real mix of ages in our class, once again, Oscar was the oldest and physically very advanced for his age. He was crawling around and curious about everything. The other babies lay or sat, engaging with the session, Oscar – not so much. He had mobility and he was going to use it. But rather than just letting him get on with it I felt he should be joining in, should be enjoying watching the activities, should be this, should be that. Baby Sensory started to stress me out to the point where I dreaded going. I felt like my son was different and I felt like other parents were judging him and me. Its hard to explain, but I felt like they thought he was “naughty”, because he wasn’t doing what everyone else did. The odd thoughtless comment didn’t help and people took to calling him things like “crazy”, “trouble” and a “lunatic”. Affectionately I’m sure but it was awful, I was awful. I became embarrassed and ashamed. When I tell people now how he crawled at 6 months and walked at 10 months I’m so proud, but at the time I just wanted him to be “normal”.

When I think about those few months I still feel ashamed, but now in a completely different way. I am ashamed of myself, that I ever thought my son wasn’t “normal” (what ever that is??). I should have just been proud of him and ignored the comments. Doing things at a different pace is what children do. You can read all the books you like, but as a first time parent you are never going to understand this until you go through it. Why would you? It occurred to me just the other week that despite the seemingly millions of different schools of thought around parenting, children will all do the stuff they need to do eventually. Some will just do it differently to others. Faster, slower, sooner, later, some will thrive at this, others at that. Different but the same, the same but different.

So Wednesday’s group didn’t make me feel bad because of what he did, but because of the memories and the shame it evoked in me. Talking to Lana afterwards I couldn’t help but well up a tiny bit. I didn’t realise how fresh it still was. So she kindly suggested we try the Friday group. We did. He wasn’t the oldest. He didn’t always join in, but then neither did any other child. He seemed much calmer (or was that just me projecting?). We left much happier.

So I think we’ll keep going to the Friday class. He really did enjoy it. He’s taken to walking up and down the bath, pointing at the tiles, while Ben counts them for him and his new favourite book is One Ted Falls out of Bed (a counting book by Julia Donaldson). Maybe maths will be his “thing”. Maybe it wont. Whatever. He can be as “different” as he likes and I’ll be proud of him.

Christmas? Already!

14/10/2013 by MrsSavageAngel Leave a Comment

A couple of weeks ago, I started to write a great big ranty post about the long commercial run up to Christmas, having seen mince pies in the shops in September. I wrote so much, then lost my thread. I couldn’t work out what to say next. I was stumped and I had no idea why. Then, last week, I realised what my problem was. I couldn’t get indignant about the run up to Christmas because, actually, I love it! I love everything about the festive season, including the insanely long retail run up. I am one of those people. Sorry.

Last Sunday we went to a local garden centre (I know! I live the dream!). We walked through the store towards the onion sets, when I saw the Christmas decorations were out. I swear I may have even squealed, as I ran away from Ben and Oscar towards the glitter, shouting “I’ll see you later” without even turning my head. I had no plans to buy anything, just to look was enough for me. In October. I could not have been happier.

So anyway, since then, I’ve been wondering just why do I love the Christmas season so much? I say season as it’s not just the one day that gets me, but the planning (I love a good list as Ben will tell you) and the preparations. For me, I think it’s partly the aesthetics of the season (everything is just so much more beautiful at Christmas) and partly the the traditions. I love the the familiarity of old traditions, but I also love the excitement of creating new ones.

Ben and I were a family of two, for nearly 14 years and in that time we developed a couple of our own Christmas traditions. For example:

Decorating the tree before 12th December – kind of one I borrowed from my mum, but the tree must always be up in time for my birthday on 12th December. Decorating it usually involves me getting giddy with excitement and an argument about the lights. One thing it does not involve is tinsel. Despite my yearly protestations, Ben refuses to have tinsel on the tree – he thinks it looks tacky. And I married this man?

Starbucks list writing – we always used go to Starbucks to write the Christmas present list in about mid November. You cant beat a notebook, a cosy corner and a large Toffee Nut Latte to fill you with generous spirit.

Christmas chutney – making and giving chutney started one year when we were super broke, but still wanted to give presents to family and friends. It went down so well I’ve done it almost every Christmas ever since. I try and do a different recipe each year and October finds me looking through my Preserves and Pickles book. Chutney is culinary alchemy!

!cid__9FBE3D2837FA9D48850F8F60D8FD43C9@iqcloud — Chutney Choosing

Buying a new decoration – when we started out we had no Christmas decorations and very little money. We bought some cheap basics and a couple of really nice decorations, with the understanding we’d add to our collection as the years went by. Thankfully the red and silver cheap basics have now gone, but the mismatch of colours and styles grows every year and I love it. We often try to buy the decoration(s) from somewhere we’ve been that year. I’ve got a Welsh dragon from Swansea, a wooden Christmas Tree from Paris, a silver Alamo from, well, the Alamo (San Antonio, TX) and a patriotic state of Texas wearing a Santa hat from Dallas!

1338_53278405615_330_n — And you thought I was joking?

These are Savage Family traditions pre-Oscar or BtB (Before the Boy), but the question is how will things change now we have him, particularly as he becomes old enough to understand what the hell is going on? I’m so excited to create new traditions with him and for him. So for example I plan to buy him a Christmas Tree decoration every year, so when he leaves home he has a box of decs ready and waiting. When he’s old enough we’ll let him choose it (however awful it may be – kids have weird taste!), it will go on the tree that year and then be added to his collection. But what else will we do? I’d love to do something that has a particular smell. Scent can evoke such a hugely powerful memory and I’d love him to be able to smell something as an adult and be reminded of awesome family Christmases with us.

Then I guess we have to address our Christmas Mythology? Will we call the big man, Santa or Father Christmas? Will we leave Sherry & Mince pies or Whiskey & Flapjack (the best way to my husbands heart by a mile!)? Will I tell my child that if he gets out of bed and sees Father Christmas that he will take all the presents away, like I was told, to keep me in my room? Do we tell him anything at all? I think Ben would be quite happy to debunk the myth fairly early on. But I want to create just a little magic in Oscar’s life while he still believes. My most precious Christmas memory from my childhood was standing at the top of the stairs aged 5, with my mum and my brother, while my dad went downstairs to “see if Father Christmas had been”. He pretended to have walked in on The Big FC and I heard them have a conversation. I was beside myself at the top of the stairs, partly because my dad was talking to Santa and partly because I was scared Santa would take the presents away, having been ‘seen’. It was pure magic.

So yeah, yeah I’m getting carried away and I’d love to be this perfect mummy who creates the most memorable Christmases ever. But chances are Oscar’ll have a blast whatever I do. What kid being given new stuff and sugar doesn’t? I’m definitely excited about “doing” Christmas with the boy though, teaching him the familiar and developing the new, as the years go by.

One day, I just hope he’ll turn to his other half and say “because we never had tinsel when I was growing up, that’s why!”