Tag Archives: Education

When home life met the school science class

It does sometimes take a while for me to catch up on my blog with what’s been happening in real life, but a near 4-month gap to report much be something of a record, even for me. I’m not entirely certain why it has taken me so long to share this story, but I can only imagine that the constant stream of events since the start of February pushed it out of my mind and it was only thanks to a search through some old photos last night whilst I was looking for something else, that my memory was jogged and the subject for today’s post settled. What now feels like many moons ago, G was set a creative homework, something that she was excited to do, but a little stumped as to the direction she wanted to go. The task was to make a model of a cell for science and the options available were seemingly endless. check There were no strict guidelines as to the type of cell to be created and she had free reign as to the medium of her model, with even cake being a possibility if she so wanted. As is often the case when tackling the more challenging pieces of homework set, G and I spent some time discussing at length what she could do before reaching a decision.

She had made a few uninspired suggestions, but I could tell her heart wasn’t really in them and her enthusiasm waning. G loves being creative, art being one of her favourite lessons at school and I knew that if we could only settle on the right cell, she would soon warm to the subject and give her all to making the best model she could. So often I’m reluctant to drag EGID into G’s world any more than is necessary, but this time I wondered if researching and then making a model eosinophil would be the answer to her dilemma. 10562609_10153256228956123_3212893174847273723_o To my relief, as my fount of inspiration was certainly beginning to run dry, she loved the idea and instantly sat down to research as much as she could as, whilst we know all about what eosinophils do in the body, we didn’t know what an individual cell looked like.

Having found some good images on the internet, G then addressed the matter of her model-making. Despite an initial yearning for cake-baking and decorating that appealed to her 12 year-old senses, although a lot less to me, we instead headed off for a trip around our local craft shop and pinpointed the few essential items that would effectively illustrate the structure of an eosinophil without requiring too much parental input and inspiration. A quick tutorial once we were back at home on how to best construct her cell gave her all she needed and I left her to it at the kitchen table, whilst I busied myself in the same room, preparing packed lunches and dinner. Her finished model was fantastic and the diligent labels indicating the different part of the cell were the result of her focused efforts and careful work. What’s more, her model eosinophil proved to be the catalyst for other work that she chose to similarly link to her experiences of EGID and which ended up with her showing last year’s NEAW video to her science class to teach them more about the condition. G has been rewarded for her hard work by her science teacher with some much coveted house points and we’re so proud that she felt confident enough to share an aspect of her home life with her school science class.

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NEAW 2016 – All over for another year

NEAW 2016 – Teaching the world

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It’s what this week has been all about. A daunting brief when you think about it, something you never expect to have to do, but sometimes life has a funny way of turning all your plans and perceptions and pre-conceived ideas on their head and sending you off in a completely direction to the one you expected to take.

Without a doubt, every new parent looks forward to the journey they’re about to embark on, albeit often with more than a little trepidation about how they will cope and they start with ideas about how they will deal with feeding and sleeping and routines. They might plan to follow in the footsteps of parenting gurus like Dr Spock, or Gina Ford or Jo Frost, after all they’ve read the books and seen the TV shows; or perhaps they think they will take a more relaxed approach, where routine is dictated by the child and everything becomes an opportunity to learn. Of course, you quickly realise that however much you’ve studied the subject beforehand, your baby hasn’t read the same manual and your best-laid plans go out of the proverbial window. No matter the milestone reached – that heart-melting first smile, the scent of your newborn as she snuggles into your arms, the infectious sound of his giggle, 858052_10151297690626123_2130461112_o that quizzical first taste of food or teetering first step – as Mum or Dad you’re there to love and encourage and cheer them on.

When we started our family, Mike and I prepared ourselves to answer their every question as best we could. We anticipated having to deal with the never-ending whys and knew we would need to find truthful words to reply to the most personal questions with simple honesty. We understood our role was to teach them about the world surrounding them, even the unpleasant bits, and equip them with knowledge and understanding and the skills to withstand the buffeting winds that life would inevitably send in their direction. We couldn’t know what storms we would need to weather together

There’s no question that having the responsibility of educating our community about the most precious of subjects is often scary, but it’s one I embrace wholeheartedly and honestly feel that it’s a privilege to have found ourselves in this role. It’s about so much more than being M’s advocate or defending G’s corner, although those form the greatest part of my job. It’s about sharing the lessons I’ve learned and, with that, it has become about explaining to others the nature of M’s chronic illness and the impact it has on our lives. This morning we spent a few hours at our community market, our information boards proudly on display, leaflets ready to hand out, a few bits and pieces placed to try to raise even the odd penny more for Over The Wall and most importantly, a smile on our faces that meant we were willing to answer questions, to explain, to share even the tiniest bit about EGID.

By the time we finally gave in to the cold and the rain, packed up and left, I had spoken to over a dozen people, who wanted to learn a little more and were genuinely interested in what we had to say. Not only had we had opportunity to teach our community, but I found that in response, people had felt able to share their stories and really talk about things that were close to their hearts. A lady whose daughter had been oxygen-starved a birth over 30 years ago and who had sadly lost her last year was able to empathise with the challenges of juggling family life and meeting G’s needs as much as we do those of M. Another woman, who had been diagnosed with Coeliac disease a few years previously, shared her disappointment that those around her still struggled to offer gluten-free options, d5de7-screenshot2014-05-14at20-22-03 instead simply opting for something “safe”, but infinitely less satisfying such as fruit or yoghurt to replace the cakes and biscuits they were enjoying. And a family, who had seen our story in the paper and were longing to talk to us about their daughter, who had been struggling with gastro issues, eating disorders, anxieties and food intolerances since she was 11 and even now, at 37, found the medics lacking insight and understanding and unable to help. I don’t know that really I could give more than a sympathetic ear and insights from our own experiences with M, but I also know just how valuable those small things can be.

Have we achieved what we were hoping from this week? I think so. I’m proud that we’ve worked hard as a family to raise awareness of EGID and hope, that in some small way, we have taught our world a little more about it.

NEAW 2016 – The Hidden Truth

NEAW 2016 – Through the eyes of a child

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Last year M decided to create a presentation that he could use to explain EGID and his feeding tube to his school. He and G worked together to produce a video telling the story of the first 9 years of his life, which they then showed to all the classes and took part in 8 separate Q&A sessions to help their peers understand more; something they did with great success. This year my dynamic duo took on the challenge again and decided to work on something completely different. M worked hard to write a story looking at EGID through his eyes, which G then illustrated and, with a little help from me, they have made a video that reflects their understanding of his chronic illness. M has again shown the film at school, although this time it was used in today’s whole school assembly rather than shown to each class in turn. Our aim was to explain EGID in a way that children would completely understand and hopefully would enjoy. We really hope that you enjoy it as much as we loved making it and please share it on to help us raise as much awareness as we possibly can.

Just a reminder that as well as raising awareness of EGID this week, we are also fundraising for Over The Wall Serious Fun camps. If you are able to donate, even a small amount, that donation with make a big difference to children like M and G, who benefit massively from these camps. You can donate via my Just Giving page or the link on the side of this page. Thank you!

NEAW 2016 – I am an EGID Mum

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Tonight I’m exhausted. Not just physically tired out, but feeling that kind of “deep-down-to-my-bones” emotional exhaustion that comes when you’ve finally and inevitably reached breaking point. That tiredness that makes every decision nearly impossible to make, from what to cook for dinner to whether to give in and go to bed and sink into sleep before the children do. That physical exhaustion that is felt in every part of my body as an unavoidable ache that is only relieved for ~~minutes~~ seconds at a time and returns full-force all too soon. In the last 10 years there have been many times, almost too many to remember, when I’ve felt tired out and fed up, but tonight is the first time in a long time that it doesn’t matter what I watch, or listen to, or read, or do because whatever it is, I find myself here with tears pooling in my eyes. Earlier I sobbed, uncontrollably, without regret and in isolation, not wanting the children to stumble upon the waves of deep grief I could sense rolling off me as I curled up and let those tears flow. I’ve been pushed to this point by the shock of M’s broken leg and the overwhelming sadness of an opportunity lost, but I know in my heart that really I’m grieving the loss of yet another “normal” part of my child’s life.

When we got M’s diagnosis 3 years ago, it was a relief. After years of angst and an unwavering conviction that there was something wrong, something more than the doctors were telling us, to finally have a name to put to the root cause of his problem meant that we hadn’t made it up, weren’t imagining the health struggles he had and could hope that we would start to get some answers to the questions that were battering our every waking moment. It didn’t take long for reality to kick in and we soon realised that the diagnosis of Eosinophlic Colitis (EC) would leave us dangling and asking more questions, rather than being the solution to our problem. Mike struggled with the not-knowing and needed to find out more, to fix the situation, whilst I took the hand we’d been dealt and determined to do the best we could in difficult circumstances. I’ve tried to face up to every new challenge with a positive attitude and to encourage the family to keep plodding on, even when it feels impossible to do so.

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This latest incident has shown me that even though we’ve weathered the harshest of storms and come out smiling, perhaps I haven’t allowed myself to grieve as really I’ve needed to do. I’ve not had to face the loss of my child, but I have had to survive the loss of the healthy child I thought he would be. The truth is that M will never have a life free from EGID. He will never experience a life free from pain. Neither he or G will ever regain the childhood innocence that has been taken away by chronic ill-health. He will never be medicine free and the chances are he will always have a restricted diet.

But that’s okay.

AND it’s okay for me to grieve those things.

Acknowledging those truths will help us accept them, will allow us to move on from them and will give us hope for the future; because from all those negatives have come some amazing positives, experiences and opportunities that would never have crossed our paths and a truly inspiring group of parents, now friends, who understand because of their own pain. What’s more, I’ve realised that whilst it is natural to be sad that some of my hopes and dreams for my children won’t come to fruition, it’s much more exciting to see where their lives and life experiences will take them.

Would I change the presence of EGID in our lives if I could? Of course I would. I’m a Mum and I want the best possible for my children. Life with a chronic illness is a heavy load to carry and I would do and give anything and everything to lighten that load for M and G; but I can’t. I can’t wish it away, but I can equip my children with the tools to accept and survive and do even more than just survive, but to live life to its fullest, taking every scrap of fun and joy from it that they can. My children are survivors, they are warriors and they will always be encouraged to achieve everything that they can. And along the way, we will continue to be open about EGID, about its impact on our lives and the reality of living with it day-to-day. We will raise awareness as best we can, educate the people around us and support those who find themselves facing the same battles we do because of this illness.

I am the mother of a medically complex warrior. I am an EGID Mum.

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NEAW 2016 – #MoreThanFoodAllergies

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The headline in our local paper for this year’s #NEAW focuses once again on the allergies

I share a frustration with Michelle, one of the lovely co-founders of the FABED, that all too often people living outside of the EGID world get drawn into the food allergies side of this illness and don’t really understand that that is just a small part of a much bigger picture. I can understand why the focus so often falls on it as it’s the bit that people think they understand and can relate to the most. After all, just about everyone knows someone, be it their next-door neighbour, the family down the street or Great Aunt Joan in Australia, who has an allergy. They often feel that that acquaintance, however remote, gives them an insight into what life must be like when your every waking moment is ruled by their presence and I’m all for that belief encouraging them to engage me in conversation about it. Added to that, so much of our social life revolves around food, a fact that isn’t a revelation to me as I’ve discussed it before on my blog. In the last week alone we’ve had to survive the “Second Sunday” breakfast held at our church, sweets brought into school to celebrate birthdays and M’s class cake sale to raise funds for classroom resources. We managed them all in our own way, from arriving late and avoiding the table of food in the church hall, to M’s trusty swap box, which has finally been refilled and returned to his teacher and the gentle request to the TA that the class cakes be moved to somewhere other than next to M’s stationary wheelchair for the day.

Of course, I obviously can’t ignore the fact that my blog focuses a lot on the impact M’s complex food allergies has on our everyday life. So much of my time and energy is spent researching, adapting and learning more about how to feed him varied meals whilst coping with such a restricted diet that food allergies undeniably rule my kitchen. As a fellow EGID Mum recently posted, every single aspect of our children’s lives are affected by food, no matter how many food allergies they are dealing with. Everything has to be planned and thought about, there can be no leaving things to chance and there’s rarely an opportunity to be completely spontaneous. At home, at school, going out for meals, tea at a friend’s house, family gatherings, holidays, hospital admissions, trick or treating, birthday parties, Christmas, Easter, the list is endless and all-consuming. There’s also unquestionable irony in the fact that we as a family will be “eating like M” to draw attention to the eosinophil awareness week. The reason? I know our restricted diets will allow us to engage with others who will be intrigued by the limitations and in turn that will enable us to share the EGID story too.

However, despite the truths above, it’s really important to get the message out there than EGID is about more than food allergies, a whole lot more. Whilst it’s common for people with ‪EGID to have food allergies, those with allergies do not always develop EGID. At the risk of repeating myself, EGID is, as I wrote for last year’s #NEAW, about “…the unexplained joint aches, the never-ending tummy cramps, the relentless feelings of nausea or reflux whenever you eat. The dark shadows under the eyes, the manic mood swings, the overwhelming lethargy, or the inability to fall asleep and stay that way. The damaged bowel, the fear of not being near enough to a toilet whenever you need one, or knowing that you’ll never get there in time anyway. The fear of your friends making fun of your allergies or finding out that you’re still wearing a pull-up because your bowel can’t be relied on when you most need it to. The daily medicines, restricted diets and the feeding tubes. The chronic pain that can reduce you to tears, yet you don’t complain because nothing helps, even when it’s at its worst.

It’s about getting used to these things as being normal, or not even realising they’re not.”

We’re marking our 4th National Eosinophil Awareness Week and despite all our best efforts, I still find myself spending a lot of time explaining that there is more to M than his food allergies. This year is a particularly tough one as there is a lot of uncertainty and discussion in the medical community about the validity of EGID as a diagnosis. Hospitals and their consultants are questioning whether EGID is really anything more than complicated food allergies, but they are failing to talk, and more importantly to listen, to the families who are living with it on a daily basis, who are surviving those symptoms I’ve mentioned above and who are having to battle to get their voices heard. Some parents have found themselves in a situation where treatment has been removed suddenly because the veracity of their child’s EGID diagnosis is under review and are left watching their loved ones spiralling back into chronic ill-health whilst the medics argue over whether EGID exists. I can’t predict what the next 12 months will bring for those of us living with the presence of EGID in our families, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we will all continue to fight for ongoing good health and that every battle won is a huge success.

EGID is about #morethanfoodallergies and that’s a message the world needs to hear.

Just a reminder that as well as raising awareness of EGID this week, we are also fundraising for Over The Wall Serious Fun camps. If you are able to donate, even a small amount, that donation will make a big difference to children like M and G, who benefit massively from these camps. You can donate via my Just Giving page or the link on the side of this page. Thank you!

A Power of Superheroes

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What is the collective noun for a group of superheroes? Any idea? I didn’t know off-hand, but as I looked around the room at the amazing group of people gathered to celebrate the 2016 Free From Foods Awards this week, I realised that that’s what I was in the midst of: enough superheroes to make any allergy sufferer’s heart flutter. Ever since I spent a fabulous 2 days judging these amazing awards at the start of February, the ceremony had promised to be the highlight of my season and, with M and G in their new role of diary contributors to the Foodsmatter newsletter, the whole family was lucky enough to be invited to attend.

13095812_10153421370696123_3435156642706845396_n M’s broken leg required some significant amendments to our original plans, but we were determined to get the family, wheelchair and all, to the event, held near Regents Park, London at the rather impressive Royal College of Physicians. We planned to leave as soon as the children finished school, which left ample time to reach our destination and even allowed strategic stops along the way to primp and preen ourselves for the evening. We all had new clothes for the occasion and G took the matter so seriously that she hand-wrote a note for her hanger to remind herself not to wear them before the day itself. Our journey started well and as we travelled along the motorway, the children took turns to pick songs for us all to sing or compared what cloud creations they could spot out of their respective windows. Naturally things couldn’t continue in that relaxed manner and we soon joined a queue of stationary traffic that had me biting my nails and stressing to the hilt that we wouldn’t reach London in time. Fortunately for all concerned, Mike has a much calmer Cg-yOG8WIAAwdZY head than me and was our nominated driver for the night. The traffic eventually started to move, we crept past the accident site and soon were back up to speed and on our way without me completely losing my cool. We stopped just once and Mike, G and M were all able to nip into the service station toilets to glam themselves up for the evening. I was too anxious about our timings to take 5 minutes out to change myself and the following hour or so was filled with moments much reminiscent of Dirty Dancing – remember Baby changing on the back-seat of Johnny’s car? – as well as hysterical giggling from M as I contorted my body into unbelievable positions to don my own new outfit.

Of course, as it turns out, I needn’t have worried. We arrived bang on time and thanks to the helpful College staff, we were able to park in their car park to ease the burden of manoeuvering M and his wheelchair around. Convoluted lift systems negotiated – seriously complicated as we had to go down from the ground floor to the lower ground floor before taking a different lift up to the first level – we were finally there and the children were thrilled to receive name badges of their very own. From the moment we stepped into the room, I was surrounded by a group of innovative, interesting and fantastic people who all had one thing in common, their passion for the freefrom market. Some of them I had had the honour to meet at one of the judging sessions, others I know from social media, whilst others I’d never met before, but as we made our way across the room, being hugged and kissed by new friends and old, I realised that I really did feel at home with them. We parked M’s wheelchair close to the stage so that he could observe all the proceedings with ease and my thanks go to the Romer Labs UK representatives, one of the Awards sponsors, as they made sure he could see what was happening at all times.

Michelle Berriedale-Johnson was the emcee Cg_buJJW4AUTEpI for the evening and the awards presented by celebrity chef, Antony Worrall Thompson, who gave what has to be the quote of the night that “..free from people should not be seen as niche people but normal people..”, which was great to hear. It was wonderful to see so many creative and innovative producers receive commendations for their hard work and the winners were all deserving in their categories. It was good to remember some of the fantastic new foods that I had tasted and wonderful to see G so excited about the gluten- and dairy-free offerings available that her own mini fist-pumps could be seen as she heard who the winners were. The full list of winning entries can be found on the Awards website, but a special mention must go to the winner of the FAIR trophy for the Best FreeFrom Food 2016, Nutribix. I was particularly thrilled to see this breakfast cereal win, not least because I had been fortunate to judge the Breakfast products category in February and absolutely loved it. Nutribix is an amazing product, reminiscent of Weetabix and unlike anything else available on the freefrom market at the moment. nutribix-awt-mmo We’ve still to track down a box in our local supermarkets for G to try, but I’m even more determined to get my hands on some now that one of my favourites has won the overall title.

It was an unmissable night and we could easily have stayed for hours chatting to the other attendees. G and M were on best behaviour and did some impressive networking of their own – politely introducing themselves and chatting confidently to the adults in the room. I received several compliments from those they spoke to, which makes me immensely proud. G was absolutely buzzing from the thrill of having canapés and a buffet that were, more or less, all safe for her and certainly enjoyed the food – the surprise hit of the evening being water buffalo canapés which she declared “delicious” and helped herself to more as soon as she could. It was wonderful to have the time and opportunity to put faces to names of so many other allergy bloggers and companies out there and whilst I won’t even attempt to list them all for fear of forgetting someone, they know who they are and I can’t wait to the next opportunity to meet up. The free from community can sometimes be surprisingly small, but it is also very close-knit and these are people that I’m delighted to be able to describe as friends. Even better, we already have a date in mind and many of us will be able to reconnect at the Allergy and Free from Show at Olympia, London during the weekend of July 8-10th. There’s also the Free From Eating Out Awards coming up later in the year, which is looking to recognise nationwide chains as well as independent restaurants who go the extra mile to provide safe meals for their allergy-suffering diners.

Special mention has to, of course, go to our very own superhero, Ryan from Borough 22 doughnuts. He got one of the loudest cheers of the night, partly aided by our very exuberant family, as well as 2 very much deserved Highly Commendeds for his doughnuts. The highlight of M’s evening was meeting the man he now terms his “personal chef” and even more thrilled that Ryan signed his cast too. It says a lot about the difference this man has made to M in such a short space of time that today even his teacher understood why M was so excited to have met “the doughnut man” in person.

Oh, and I still don’t know what that collective noun is, but I rather think “A Power of Superheroes” fits the bill perfectly! MzQ1QzM3M0E4MzFCNjM4QjYzMUY6YWUxNzkyMGNiZWRkMjJhNGIyYWI2YTNlNDZiNGJjODM6Ojo6OjA=

Family Storytellers

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During my judging stint at the #FFFA16 earlier this year, I got chatting to the lovely organiser of these awards, Michelle about the possibility of an ongoing working relationship between the organising body, Foodsmatter and 7Y2D. Always keen to promote my blog through any networking opportunities out there, I was as enthusiastic to explore the options as Michelle and eager to see where it might take us. One of the ideas we discussed was the introduction of a new diary looking at EC and food allergies on the Foodsmatter website and newsletter, to run alongside the well-established Coeliac and Allergy ones already there. Michelle proposed a different twist on the subject and asked if I thought G and M would like to write these regular entries to give a child’s perspective on life with food allergies. It didn’t take long for me to accept on their behalf, even without discussion, as I knew M in particular would leap at the chance to get his views out there, especially after his tube-feeding contribution to “Complete Nutrition” at the end of last year.

When I got home, M, G and I discussed at length this request and all its implications. Whilst both were as eager to agree immediately as I expected, I needed them to fully understand the commitment they were signing up to and reminded them that if they then decided to go ahead, I would be making sure that they kept to it every step of the way. I was keen to see G and M take up this fantastic opportunity for so many reasons and felt that with some focus they could really make something valuable of it. Both children are quietly fascinated by my blog and I have never hidden from them that I’m writing it or the reasons why. From time to time, one or the other will ask me to “..take a photo for your blog Mummy..” or “..will you be writing about this?..” blog I know that M occasionally takes a peek at what I’ve been writing and G has expressed a passing interest in getting more involved at some point too. Writing these diary entries for the Foodsmatter newsletter would give them a voice to express and explore their own attitudes, opinions and feelings about life where EC and food allergies are ever-present.

However, I strongly believe that there is much more to be gained by them than simply sharing their experiences with a wider audience and, as important as that is, these other life lessons have great value and will teach them well for their futures. The original proposal was for them to work in collaboration to produce a monthly diary entry to be included in the newsletter. They will have to learn to work as a team, sharing ideas, taking turns to write it down and, most importantly, listen to and recognise the value in each other’s opinions. I stressed that there would be no bad or wrong ideas about what each post should be about, simply thoughts that might need discussing and refining without argument or insult. 284454_10151027743256123_703224883_n Some months their entries might be a joint effort and for others, one might end up taking the lead with little or no input from the other, The responsibility of monthly articles is theirs, and theirs alone – I will not be stepping in if they leave it too late or can’t agree on what to write.

Having committed to writing every month, G and M need to make sure that they meet their deadlines and have an article ready for me to review and send before the publishing date. This requires a level of organisation that, for the time being at least, I will be helping them achieve as well as gently nagging them if the deadline is creeping ever closer. I suggested making a list of possible subject areas they might want to cover in their diary entries and reminded them that preparing this would mean that they could, if either was so inclined, get a head start and make notes for a future piece, thus saving themselves stress and heartache when time is running short. Flexibility, of course, is key and ideas can be shelved for a future edition if something more interesting, or relevant happens that they want to comment on instead. After 3 years of writing my blog, I know well the difficulties of having little to say when I want to post a new piece and how having something simmering in the background is always a real blessing at those times.

Most excitingly for me is waiting to see just how their writing voices and styles develop over time. M, despite the challenges of his dyspraxia and dyslexia, has never struggled with his imagination and is able to dictate fascinating stories that are filled with his character and sense of humour. In comparison, G has always found literacy a difficult topic to conquer and despite her breadth of reading and extensive vocabulary, struggles to express herself in the written word. I’m hopeful that the experience of writing this diary will help them both achieve more than they ever thought possible when it comes to their writing skills. If the giggles that floated downstairs to Mike and me as they wrote their first piece together are anything to go by, they really will enjoy this opportunity and I look forward to reading more from both of them.

For a taste of their contributions so far, you can read their entries for March and April here:

The diary of Galaxygazer and Marvin

And if you enjoyed those and want to keep reading on a regular basis as well as other great articles, you can sign up to the Foodsmatter newsletter here

Limping towards the Finish line

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bucket list Do you remember that long, long list of things that I was facing at the beginning of March? With the month-end in sight, I am, quite literally, limping towards the finish line, just thankful that the long Easter weekend ahead means the opportunity for some much-needed lie-ins and down-time; but how did March go in then end?

World book day and required costume x 1 – M decided on what can only be described as something of a left-field choice for your average 9 year-old and dressed up as Ford Prefect from Douglas Adams’ well-loved trilogy of 5 books, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy“. It was one of the easiest costumes he’s ever asked me to make and to our delight, he won a £5 book token for the best WBD costume in his class. 'Oh yes we're very proud of him. He's in publishing you know!'

Parents evenings x 2 – Both evenings went extremely well and we are so proud of the strides both children have made during this school year. M has been working hard at beating the challenges of his dyslexia and dyspraxia and is developing some beautiful handwriting when he remembers to try. G has settled well into Year 7 and was described to me as a “conscientious, hard-working, empathetic and focused” member of her tutor group. I was delighted to hear that her confidence has grown throughout the year and that she is developing into a well-respected and natural leader amongst her peers too.

School book fairs x 2 – Attended and books bought.

M-friendly croissants – Recipe adapted, croissants baked and hugely enjoyed as part of the school’s French role-play activity. I achieved above and beyond what I thought was possible with so little notice.

Mothers Day – We enjoyed a quiet day together, although sadly my Mum was unwell and not able to come out for lunch with us. We ate at one of our favourite M-friendly restaurants and were once again impressed by the phenomenal memory of the restaurant manager and the care awarded to both children by all the staff. Well done Wagamama!

Riding lessons – G continues to ride every other weekend and her passion for this hobby is growing. Her latest lesson saw her not only trotting and cantering with confidence, but beginning some preparatory steps to get her ready for jumping – scary stuff but she’s loving every moment.

A 10th birthday and a class assembly – These happened on the same day and were both celebrated in style. It’s hard to believe that my little bean has reached the end of his first decade and I can’t begin to imagine what the next one will hold.

Birthday celebrations – M chose a reptile-themed birthday party and I braved holding a tarantula to help encourage G to beat her fears and do it herself. We combined the day into a double celebration and headed out to a local trampoline park in the afternoon with a couple of friends for a belated marking of G’s 12th birthday too.

Dentist and hair appointments – These both happened as planned and really there’s not much more to say.

GOSH appointment – Mike, M and I headed to London for our first appointment at GOSH since the disastrous admission last December. We weren’t quite sure what to expect, not least because the gastro department is currently in a state of great upheaval. M is doing well, even though we haven’t managed to introduce any more foods safely into his diet since last summer and continues to impress us all by drinking the 400mls of E028 necessary to supplement his limited repertoire of food. His weight has dropped on the centile charts and will need some careful monitoring over the next few months as we continue to search for some more safe foods for him. There is, at long last, a chance of some shared care between GOSH and our local gastro team, which would add some much-needed local level support for our family and the next step is really to wait and see when and if that happens.

School play – Thankfully M’s role as Poseidon meant that I could re-use his toga from Stagecoach last year, so that was one costume crisis off my hands. He was only able to take part in one performance as the matinée was on the same day as his GOSH appointment and unfortunately I wasn’t able to see his evening performance as it clashed with G’s parents evening. However, Mike and G went to watch and told me it was great fun and he did really well.

Performing Arts Exams x 2 – Taken by one very-tired G and one determined-to-do-well M. We won’t know just how well they’ve done until mid-April, but I’m told that they both worked hard and performed well on the day. Having watched their performances the week before, I can’t wait to see if all their efforts paid off and are reflected in their marks. index

Spa day – This was a late birthday celebration, a treat that Mike had sorted out for me and my dear friend, and M’s godmother, L. We had a lovely afternoon being pampered, drinking coffee and chatting without interruption by small people, before enjoying a delicious dinner and a few bubbles to mark the day.

Events linked to school topics – This term M’s topic has been India and part of the school experience was to share an Indian meal from a local restaurant. Thanks to previous experience from G’s time in Year 5, I had been anticipating this one for months and a few mini trials of herbs and spices meant that I’ve been able to create a curry-esque meal that’s suitable for M. A mix of cumin, coriander, ginger and rosemary combined with our new discovery of rice cream created the sauce for his staples of chicken and rice. It might not be an authentic dish, but he loves it and it’s meant that he has been able to join in a meal with the rest of his class.

Preparations for G’s sibling camp – I haven’t quite started on this one, but the weekend’s going to be busy as G goes off to camp on Monday. She’s been looking at the list of things she needs and chatting to a friend via e-mail as she prepares for a week filled with fun and activities away from the hustle and bustle of home. She also went to her first Young Carers meeting this week and seemed to settle in really well. There are some other girls the same age as G, including one from her school, who have just started too and she’s looking forward to an afternoon at a local trampoline park during the Easter holidays. Watch this space for more of an update once she’s back and has shared all the news with me!

Easter – Preparations are sorted, food trials are planned, eggs have been bought and I’m looking forward to a peaceful family weekend at home.

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Happy Easter!

7 years to diagnosis

Searching for an answer