Thursday, 21 January 2010

Competition - "Clone-a-Mum" contest

Anyone with more than one child knows the daily dilemma of being constantly pulled in more than one direction, trying to meet the needs of various offspring and domesticated/undomesticated Dad, any pets and (possibly) even your own. Possible - yes in the main, achievable - again, yes but usually with some personal although highly commendable sacrifice of your own. Parenting inevitably involves the extremely rewarding and worthwhile prioritising of the needs of others but seeing your own family status disappear down the priority list to somewhere below the hamster or the cat litter box can be a little frustrating.

Photo courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons Kristina Alexanderson

Take making a cup of tea. In my twelve years as a Mum I can honestly count the number of cups of tea I've made myself and drunk whilst still hot (and no I don't count those reheated in the microwave until they resemble something that should belong in a drain) on one hand. With good intentions and a psychological craving for a "nice hot cuppa" I boil the kettle optimistically each morning at 7am or thereabouts. By that time everyone is dressed, beds made, breakfast served and I can see a little window of opportunity for myself. It never goes as planned and the cold mug of brown water is still sitting on the worktop when I return from the school run at 9am.

Recently, the need to find a way to clone myself or at least master rudimentary time travel has never been more urgent. My eldest son suffered a fractured ankle playing hockey before Christmas (his ankle guards were "too tickly" but we won't even go there...)and due to a monumental lack of competent communication between the various doctors treating him since, a potentially serious cartilage injury was missed and he is still on crutches 6 weeks on with no plan of action whatsoever. This "minor" injury has generated many hospital appointments (because we all know I don't visit our local one often enough), phone call and WORRY. He is unable to physically reach all his classrooms, sport is off the agenda for the foreseeable (walking would be a start) and getting to and from school on the bus is risky NOW never mind during the snow and ice recently.

Number 2 son has (thankfully) been relatively calm and undemanding (relatively speaking, but I'll take any improvement as a huge positive!) but we do need to start school-hunting for him and he has his usual appointments to monitor his medication/behaviour etc too. School hunting is fraught with problems at the best of times, but given the current school organisational review in Suffolk as the Middle Schools are closed, a child with considerable Special Needs and a Statement of 25 hours 1:1 help and the fact that there is NO money to meet his needs whether we stay in Suffolk or take the chance that Essex might be better it certainly won't be easy.

Number 3 son has provided plenty of entertainment, concern and hospital appointments which I won't go into but suffice to say things have not been easy and DD (Apparently that's internet abbreviation for "Darling Daughter", which she is, but I think "Determined Daughter" works better for us) has been rather neglected as a result. Her beloved teacher is on long term sick leave with breast cancer and although K is a cheerful type I'm painfully aware I am currently "Jack of all trades and master of none" in the parenting department when it comes to being there for everyone.

Makes you wonder why on earth we have the house on the market hoping to move, doesn't it? At least the kitten is independent and has a commendable innate survival instinct. Deciding we were doing the local cat population a favour, we decided to remove her from the gene pool and neuter her. Psycho cat is not a phenotype I would wish to be held responsible for encouraging. So yesterday morning she was due at the vets and managed to explode out of the cat carrier tornado style. Most impressive, but nothing compared to the way she was leaping about once home. Sore? Hardly. Quiet? You must be joking! Off her food? Ha bloody ha, there's a reason why the vet charged me a premium for spaying her - too much "abdominal fat" to cut through. She's not that daft really, she knows all too well where she comes on the priority list and she's not waiting for anyone's cold cup of tea!!!

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