Tag Archives: family

10 years on

A lot can happen in 10 years and certainly has in our household. In the past 10 years we have moved house twice; had 2 amazing babies and seen them grow into beautiful children; finally got a series of diagnoses that have explained so much about M’s fragile health and will help him grow stronger in time; changed jobs more times than we care to consider and are finally in ones that we love; and travelled the world, though perhaps not as much as we’d have liked. Sometimes, in the busy lives we now lead, it’s hard to stop and remember things and people from the past.

Today is a landmark day for me, one that I can hardly believe has arrived and one that has seen my emotions bubbling over beyond what I expected.

10 years ago today we said goodbye to my Dad.

One of the few photos we have of Grandad and G

I was the quintessential Daddy’s little girl growing up and constantly sought his approval and praise in the things that I did. I know he was proud when I graduated university despite the complications of negligent eye surgery at the start of my final year and he helped me study to pass my accountancy exams just 3 years after I got my degree. He walked me down the aisle nearly 15 years ago and marvelled at the arrival of his first grandchild a few years later. I am so grateful for all the precious memories I have with him and yet find myself grieving for those that he never had the chance to become a part of, to share.

Today the children and I have been out in the unseasonably warm autumn air to visit Grandad’s plaque, placed on a neighbouring pier, and left some flowers and sprigs of rosemary – for remembrance – to mark that place. We talked a little about him and I shared some memories of the grandfather they never got to know and love. And tonight, Mike and I will be lifting a glass in his memory as yet another year without him slips past.

Courtesy of visitedscotland.com

Return of the Prodigal Cat

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Do you remember the story of the Prodigal son? The one who returns home, down on his luck after years of partying and living the high life with little regard for the family he left behind. He is greeted with open arms and tears of joy from his father and a fatted calf is prepared to celebrate his return, whilst grumbling in the wings is his much relied on and increasingly disgruntled older brother.

No tale of cats is complete without mentioning M’s precious Cat

Last week, our household was the unexpected location for the return of our very own prodigal, G’s cat Misty. Misty has been part of our family for a couple of years, but is considered the pain-in-the-neck younger member by our elder statesman family cat, Jet and M’s “fat” cat, Ginger. When we returned home from our summer sojourn in the Florida sun, there was no sign of Misty and despite hours of calling, this errant puss appeared to have moved on from our humble abode. It seemed so unfair that once again it was G’s cat who had gone, as the last kitten we lost to the neighbouring A-road and a large milk tanker was also hers, but he was also the most independent of our feline trio and was often lured by the bright lights of the nearby farms. We kept hope alive for a while, but there came a tearful hour one Sunday after church, when I had to explain to G and M that I thought it unlikely that Misty would be back. I regaled them with a story from my own childhood, when our much-loved cat, Delilah – and yes, we also had her brother Samson – returned home after months away from the fold, saying it was possible he could return, although I thought it unlikely. I was careful to make no promises and hoped that eventually the sorrow of his leaving would diminish. As time passed, both children appeared to have moved on and even though G still occasionally called to him from the kitchen door when summoning the others inside for a cuddle, she seemed to have accepted his loss and had even added a new “kitten/hamster/gerbil” to the top of her birthday/Christmas wish list.

So, you can imagine my surprise and the children’s delight when, getting home from school last week, who should saunter around the car in the driveway, but Misty. I’ve never seen G move so fast or heard her squeal so loudly than when she caught sight of her beloved pet reappearing as if he’d never been away and couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. In the 10 days since his return, G has taken every opportunity to shower love and fuss on this cat and both children anxiously ask every day at pick-up if I know whether Misty is at home or not; and he’s lapping up every moment of their unfaltering devotion.

You may wonder why I’m sharing this story with you. It’s partly because our life isn’t all about EGID, there’s a lighter side to it that we strive to grab hold of much of the time and partly because it made me consider the impact of pets on our family life. I’ve grown up with cats as an integral part of the family and so have G and M. These cats have become a key part of our household and bring immeasurable comfort and enjoyment to us all. There is nothing more soothing to me than a cat curled up on, or next to, me as I work or watch TV or read. When M is feeling under the weather and is struggling with his EGID symptoms, he takes huge amounts of comfort from having any one of our cats alongside him and we have found that it has even helped him calm down and settle to sleep at the roughest moments. The simple, unassuming acceptance by our family pets of my boy’s sometimes turbulent moods has been an unexpected blessing and Mike and I have been known to usher one cat or another towards him when nothing else can break through his tantrums. G thrives on the peace that being curled up on the sofa with her book on one side and her beloved cat on the other brings. Both children have learned to take some responsibility in looking after their pets and G can often be found dishing up their dinner in the evenings without being asked. I know we’re not alone in experiencing the companionship and joy that pets can bring, nor the life lessons of love and loss that have been taught as our children grow up. Our prodigal cat might not have been fed with a fatted calf, but we’re all delighted to have him back home, especially my beautiful girl.

HAPPY CANADA DAY!

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To our friends and family from Canada, I hope you’re enjoying your 147th birthday in style!

Rainy days and Mondays

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I suspect we must be like every other family when it comes to unexpected free time or the need to find rainy day activities. We have lots of discussions about what we could do, followed by M complaining that “there’s nothing to do” or “I’m bored” or “you won’t let me do what I want anyway, so there’s no point in asking” and eventually finishing with a decision that at least 3 of the 4 of us agree on, sometimes, if we’re lucky. This past weekend was no exception. Amazingly, there was no football training or game for M, no parties for either child and no school events to contend with as it was the start of the May half-term.

Chalk Wall Snakes & Ladders – this was invented by M and Mike and has been the source of hours of fun for all the family. One wall of M’s bedroom is painted with blue chalkboard paint and they decided to create a gigantic Snakes & Ladders board on the wall. It featured some individual-looking snakes as well as ladders of varying lengths and can be changed and adapted as the fancy takes M. Once designed, they played the game using a dice and coloured chalk to mark their progress on the board.

Board games – I doubt we’re the only family in the world to indulge in a board game or 2 on a weekend afternoon. The kids have been obsessed with two games recently: the Game of Life: Fame edition, where you’re a fledgling celebrity trying to make it big; and Bananagrams, a game that’s similar to scrabble, but each player works individually to create a crossword grid from their tiles. The latter has become a new and firm favourite in the household, although M struggles sometimes with the challenge of creating words from his letters. Even though he won’t always play on his own, he is always more than happy to give suggestions to anyone else playing.

Egg painting – this is an activity usually associated with Easter as the photos show, but I see no reason why you couldn’t do this at any time of the year. M was fascinated in seeing how exactly you blew the eggs, whilst G quickly learnt just how delicate the resultant egg-shells were. They were occupied for a good half an hour or so before they had had enough and had run out of eggs to decorate. G decided to go for 3 unrelated designs for her eggs, whilst M themed his eggs around a Matador, bull and red cape – don’t ask me, I have no idea where he gets his ideas from, though I’m guessing it must be something to do with his father. Mike identified the eggs from 3,300 miles away via Skype: I can only assume he saw something I didn’t.

Light Saber battles – nothing overly original, though G, M and Mike appear to have created their own battleground, almost Hunger Games style, called “Schwing Schwang”. This involves each having their own Light Saber of different colours and indulging in a series of highly complex fight moves as well as striking what I can only describe as their best battle poses. This is all accompanied by hysterical giggling from G and ear-piercing shrieks from M.

Washing Line volley ball – This offering is an alternative to regular volley ball. It involves the use of the washing line strung up between the garage and house, a space-hopper and a sense of humour. We played in teams, had 5 lives each and had to catch and throw the space-hopper from side to side without dropping it or letting it bounce out of the poorly indicated boundary lines. Challenging, but great fun for a sunny afternoon.

Family film night (or morning, or afternoon) – Finally, there’s sometimes nothing to beat sitting down as a family to watch a film together. Our biggest problem was agreeing on which to film to watch, with M and G inevitably choosing the same 5 films over and over again, whilst any suggestion from Mike or me to watch something different usually ended in tears. So, I came up with a rota system that keeps everyone happy and has seen the children enjoying some films that they never thought they’d like. Now we take it turns to choose the film and no one film is allowed to be chosen again until we have worked through everybody’s turn twice. I drew up a grid on a piece of paper that lives near the TV and faithfully record who has chosen the film and what it was. So far we’ve enjoyed a mixture of Disney, Pixar and classic films and would be hard pressed to say which has been our favourite.

A Merry Christmas to all

A Decade of Parenting

When life gives you lemons…

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…make lemonade. Isn’t that how the saying goes? I have to confess to pondering this one in the early hours of this morning after being woken up by a somewhat distraught M who had just had a soiling accident whilst asleep. He woke me at 3.45am and 2 hours later, my mind was still buzzing and sleep seemed a thing from the dim and distant past. This doesn’t happen very often, but the impact is huge and it got me to thinking.

The impact of M’s condition has been massive on us all as a family and not just on M himself. To anyone who has a “sick” child, you will understand what I mean.

Mike and I have suddenly had to become medical experts in our own rights, despite our alternate careers as an accountant and surveyor, as who else is going to make sure that the best is done for M? I now know so much more about gastro conditions and food allergies than I ever anticipated needing to know. I’ve had to learn coping mechanisms, not just for M to deal with his frustration and anger at being ill, but to help us cope as well. The years of not having an answer have taken their toll and both Mike and I have had to re-learn who our little boy is and what makes him tick. I have to be his first line of defense wherever we are and I’m the one in his corner fighting his cause.

One of the hardest things about this illness is that there are no obvious outward signs that M is ill. He is a slight child and even when seriously underweight and struggling with full toilet-training, he has never lacked energy or enthusiasm for life. He may suffer with stomach cramps and joint aches that would floor most adults, but he just gets on with it. His complaints of aching limbs have been ignored for years as I was guilty of thinking of him as a “moaning” child, but now I know that those aches are very real and extremely uncomfortable whilst they last. He has been living the last 7 years with these as his normal, so he only stops when he’s suffering extreme moments of pain. He had then, and continues to have, the most amazing stamina and a reserve of energy that I can only envy. He is constantly on the go and has never let his health problems slow him down. In very many ways, this is his greatest strength, but also the biggest problem for us.

The lack of obvious evidence of his poor health means that people just don’t understand that he is ill and look at me in disbelief when I explain just how poorly he can be and, to be perfectly honest, I don’t blame them at all. He doesn’t look like a child who eats fresh air and frequently manages on less than 8 hours sleep a night; but he is.

I don’t think that Mike will mind me sharing that he has struggled to come to terms with M’s condition. I have an advantage in that I have grown up living with my own T1 diabetes. I know that these things can be survived and have just got on with it. Mike has found it harder and has longed for an easier fix than the road we seem to be travelling down at the moment. Of course, we now have a diagnosis and that has helped us all. Being able to put a name to the condition, even though it’s so rare that no-one ever seems to have heard of it, means that our fight has not been in vain and we can no longer be dismissed as fussy parents. This is M’s life for now and for the foreseeable future, and as his parents, our job is to ensure that he learns how to make the best of a bad situation.

M has struggled too, as you would expect and his levels of frustration at times are massive. Not only is he restricted by what he can eat and how his body reacts, but he also has to deal with the knock-on consequences. It is no longer possible for him to go home for tea with his friends, attend birthday parties, participate in cooking at school or even have a Christmas or Easter treat, without me having to provide a detailed list of what he can and can’t eat and the inevitable 20 minute discussion with the adult in charge about his condition. We encourage him to have a go at whatever he wants and refuse to let his condition dictate who he is or how he lives his life; and a big thank you has to go to my parents who brought me up with that very same approach to T1D and my life.

He acts out – he kicks and hits and shouts and bites – and sadly the people who have to survive the mood swings are us and G. G has had a hard role to play as the big sister to a poorly child. She worries about his health and I know struggles when we have to disappear off to London for the day for his hospital check-ups. But, she is also a child and has her own challenges to deal with. My children are the best of friends and would defend each other to the end; but are also the worst of enemies. It has become extremely important for us to invest as much time in G as we can and the last couple of months have enabled us to do just that far more than before. She recently took part in a music event organised by the local authority music education department and her clarinet skills were considered good enough to allow her to play with the wind band. This was something just for her and she loved every moment.

She has also been invited to join the local swimming club and that is something we are keen to encourage her to do. There was a point when we wondered a couple of years ago if she’d ever learn to swim, but she is now excelling at it and her teacher invited her to join the Club to see how she gets on. It’s an additional time commitment on a weekly basis for us as she will need to attend at least 1 extra training session a week as well as competitions, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m proud of both my children – M for his stoicism in dealing with his condition and making the most of life; and G for her continued hard work at school and at her after-school clubs. She may not like the fact that M misses school regularly to attend hospital appointments, but she admits that she wouldn’t want to have the blood tests and diet that he has. Neither child has an easy cross to bear right now, but I hope Mike and I manage to get it right enough to see them successfully and happily through to adulthood.

7 years to diagnosis

Searching for an answer