Growth

This last weeks we have looked at both smalls and realised, they are not that small any more. They have grown. Massively.

It is actually scary by how much -

In clothes:
Oldest - was in age 3-4 now wearing age 6-7 (and a 7-8 T-shirt is not ridiculous).
Youngest - was in age 18-24 months is now 4-5 comfortably.

They are both out of their stage 1-2-3 car seats (complete with 5 point harness). Oldest is on his boaster cushion and youngest has a high backed boaster cushion. Neither need a boaster seat to sit to the table for meals and they are remarkable self sufficient from getting dressed and undressed, going to the toilet and brushing their teeth. Tights remain a problem for youngest but as I still struggle I will not hold it against her.

The little things have struck me for example they can both get into the bath without assistance. I can't quite believe that over 2 years has past since we met them and brought them home. Time really does fly when you are not looking and it seems like I have blinked and missed something, I am just not sure what. Crazy as it sounds we are onto round 3 for annual events - birthdays, etc and Christmas will be third time occasion when we get to it. This will be our third summer of camping fun as after that youngest will start in reception - her place was confirmed a few weeks ago.

Should I, Shouldn't I?

This weekend I had a moment of should I, shouldn't I.

I stood in the queue to pay in a large department store in an unfamiliar city and, as I revelled in the fact that I had found what I had been looking for all day, I heard an angry voice. A little person, angry at his mummy. Really angry at his mummy. He was shouting, refusing to do anything and everything, calling her names, waving his hands about, trying to hit her and generally being really unpleasant. He even called her a 'poo poo head'. I have no idea why.

What I didn't hear was his mummy. She never raised her voice, never shouted at him and seemed, to the outside world, to be the epitome of calmness. I can only imagine how she was feeling based on how I feel when one of my children does this to me. My experience tells me that I am unconcerned if people stare but that it does make me uncomfortable. I have shouted at my kids when in public places and been embarrassed about it. I have also frog marched them out of shops when their behaviour pushed me over the limit of my tolerance.

I wanted to say something to her. I wanted to commend her for her calmness, for her ability to remain in control. I wanted to tell her that she was amazing, that there is no way I could remain as calm as her. I wanted to tell her that she was behaving in a way I aspire to.

I decided not to. I didn't want to embarrass her any more than she was already embarrassed and I didn't want to offend her.

I have no idea how I would feel if a stranger approached me like this. I had a good idea how I would feel about a stranger approaching me and being critical but someone being positive is very different. My initial thought was that a positive comment would be appreciated but it would have to be delivered in a way that implied no sarcasm or other negative. My other thought was that a comment meant that she had been seen. Noticed. More importantly so had her child's tantrum. I much prefer it when people pretend that my children and their tantrums are ignored. It speeds them to a faster conclusion. Her child might have been exactly the same. I also have no idea what history was behind that tantrum.

I walked away.

To that Mummy I would say, after the event and with all sincerity, well done. There is no way that I could have handled the situation that well.

Late Nights

When the children first came home we were really strict with their routine for lots of different reasons and it worked for us. Now, 2 and a half years later we are starting to be a lot more secure about making changes to routine and this weekend was a major step forward for us. We headed for the field to make camp on Saturday - after the obligatory row over the new tent and its first erection we got settled in. The weather was terrible and, even with puddlesuits and Wellington boots, we wanted to avoid being outdoors as much as possible so we decided to visit the local pub. The kids were amazing, The sat quietly with their drinks, played on their tablets and did some colouring and drawing. I was so proud.

We left once they declared a requirement for food and headed back to my parent's caravan for dinner but once this was done we decided to go back to the pub. It was much warmer, dryer and full of friends. We were prepared in the same way and once again the children were amazing. They have understood and appreciated that pubs and restaurants are not the places for running about or screaming and shouting. It means we can take them to these types of places more often. As we were away for 2 nights we had decided that night 2 would be the late one, mainly so we could change our minds if night 1 didn't go too well. An hour past bed time and we headed back to the tent and made ready. Both children climbed into bed without a fuss, we tucked them in and made sure that they would be warm (if they stayed put) and retired to a safe distance (although still within ear shot). The messing about commenced. After 10 minutes and both getting up for the toilet (regardless of the fact that they had just been) and all was quiet.

The morning held its own challenge. Youngest was the superstar - one plaintive cry of 'is it time to get up' around 6am and after the answer was negative she went back to sleep until 7.30am. Brilliant,

Oldest was not such a star. The shouting started at 5.30am and continued until 7.30 when he was finally allowed to get up. He was told afternoon nap or no staying up late.

The day was a good one on most fronts - meals, snacks, drinks, a walk round the village fayre to make friends out of wooden spoons, watch a puppet show, have a go on the climbing wall and the tombola and, in a brief moment of pure calm, there was an afternoon nap. The rain stopped so all of this which made it so much easier. But we didn't have to worry about the time - meals were prepared and presented when requested and not at the set time which meant we had a lot more flexibility. Dinner was the same and it was much later than we realised before the children declared that they were hungry. Still, it was eaten with minimal fuss.

As all had been completed, as promised, this was the late night. They were allowed to sit up, wrapped in blankets for warmth once it was too dark to be running about and when bed time was declared we only had a minimum of complaint to manage. Plus both were asleep within 5 minutes of being tucked up in bed so that was an added bonus.

Morning was another moment for youngest to shine - a lie in until 9am! I was amazed. Oldest did better than previously and managed until 7.30. But both slept on the drive home so all was well and I am looking forward to out next camping excursion.

Changing routine used to terrify me. I would have all sorts of plans and scenarios and work arounds ready but, it turns out, the children have surpassed my expectations. All it took was time and tiny little fairy steps.

How to deal with an angry Mummy.

I thought I had experienced being angry with the children. I was wrong

A little while ago I went into oldest's bedroom and saw, jammed down the side of his bed, the shredded remains of a child hood book. My book. A book that I have has for over 20 years. It was destroyed. I was livid. So angry that I stood in front of him and sobbed with rage. It turns out that, because he went to bed and had story time when he wanted to watch some cartoons he was angry with me and my book was the object of his anger. I have no idea why he chose my book. I would rather have dealt with a temper tantrum.

It is not the first time that the object of his temper has been books, the central page of his school reading book when he didn't want to read it, the spine of his favourite dinosaur fact book when he was asked to calm down quietly with a book and other, less memorable occasions when it was just the odd page being torn. I can't imagine my world without books, I have many and have always enjoyed reading. I don't have many of the books of my childhood left but I did save the few that were precious to me - the ones that I have the fondest memories of, the ones I wanted to share with my children so we could build more memories with them. I have taken these books away - completely out of sight and reach. I have also taken all his nice books away (books that I was be upset if he damaged) leaving him with a small pile of old, already tatty books, most of which he has no attachment to and many which are aimed at children younger than he is,

My book is not repairable and it is irreplaceable. My son is also irreplaceable. Our relationship needs some repair work. I have already started but, for the time being I don't trust him and he will have to earn my trust again. Regardless of how much I love him.

Risk Managment

Since our last contact with the children's sibling we have been waiting for information from social services.

To cut a long story short, the sibling has been in direct contact with their birth mum. Something we were not aware of. We should have been aware so we could have made the right choices about the location and format that our contact arrangement took. It turns out that she has made an application to court for him to be returned to her care as social services can not locate an adoptive placement for him. I didn't understand or appreciate that children with a plan for adoption have direct contact with birth family stopped in a appropriate manner but a child in long term foster care does include a plan for direct family contact. The change in status of the sibling has meant that this contact (which had been stopped) was re-started and then increased as part of the court proceedings as they require a full report of

Anyway we took the children to a soft play centre that we use regularly. It is the one nearest to home. They are invited to parties that their friends have there. We allowed the children to play together, under supervision but out of hearing range, We don't know what they talked about, if anything,

Had we have know we would have gone somewhere further from home, more neutral and the children would not have been allowed out of ear shot.

The risk we have to manage when direct contact is taking place is whether our children could share information that could locate us which their sibling passes onwards to their birth mum without realising the consequences. He is not old enough to understand the consequences. Our oldest is, rightly, very proud of the fact that he knows his full name, address and what school he goes to. All information which is denied to his birth family.

I know that we are probably worrying about nothing, We have almost definitely over reacting but I have made an issue of this with social services on the grounds that we are entitled to have the information that allows us to make the best choices for our children - for their safety, for the sanctity of our home and their school environment and the emotional well being of our family.