Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Protection or Prejudice?

There is much written at the moment in Blogland about the Children, Schools and Families Bill, Child Protection and parenting choices. What most of you reading this or any other Blog today might be unaware of is the potential impact across all society that this Bill might have had if passed (and still might have if Labour are re-elected and have a second attempt) which extends beyond how you choose to educate your children. It challenges something totally fundamental in our society. Not only does it challenge the right parents currently have to choose how their child is educated but introduces an unpalatable advance into the erosion of individual choice and independence to be and live as we choose.

The CSF Bill which has largely been dropped due to pressure from Home Educators who not only objected to State interference in their right to educate their children as they see fit but also pointed out the obvious - that a HE child is no more or less "at risk" than any other school educated child, all of whom have long periods of time at home. The unfortunate Khyra Ishak was indeed deregistered from mainstream schooling but was not, by any stretch of the imagination Home Educated. But suspicion is the child of ignorance and choosing a path for your family which is in any way different from the vast majority should not leave you open to prejudice. Yet Ed Balls has stated he fully intends to "provide proper protection to home educated children" if Labour are re-elected.

There is a veritable industry that exists to "safeguard children" now which must therefore justify its existence on a daily basis. So deep is the desire to prove themselves at every level this "protection" system is trapped looking for cases and fitting individuals into their preconceived moulds. There is no room for uniqueness, for unorthodoxy, God forbid you do not choose to or are unable to tend towards the mean. This offers up a perfect opportunity to convert misunderstanding into accusation.  


This is a constant battle fought by parents of disabled children, particularly those with invisible disabilities. So vast and complicated is the framework in which support is or is not available that if there is not an immediately visible, convenient niche in which to slot your family (either inside or outside that framework) then you invite suspicion and intervention. Instead of training health professionals, social workers and other front line workers to respond to individuals on a case-by-case basis we are trapped in a system where government frameworks and policies constrain free, rational thinking and financial accountability has been stretched to require self justification at every level. In our case we have a very able, but clearly autistic child who does not fit the mould of expected outcomes for education and behaviour management. Consternation and lack of alternatives precipitated enquiry and accusation because there wasn't a tick box for our family.

The modern world needs to learn  to celebrate individuality, in a current time frame rather than persecuting those with something unique to offer society. We are taught to recognise and remember those who were "different" in history and we are learning, slowly, to recognise apparent "deviations" from the norm when faced with large groups. Religious toleration, racial and social acceptance are goals many aspire to if not reach but still, in the twenty first century it is still socially and politically acceptable to seek and root out, to stigmatise, persecute and victimise that which is unfamiliar and alien. It seems we have learned little and increasingly offer ourselves up to be judged by supporting continued and increasing State intervention in our lives. Without individuals and individual ways of living we might just as well enter a Brave New World and admit defeat of the very essence of being human.



Friday, 2 April 2010

My brain hurts...

Just for a short time it would be nice to stop thinking - or at least to only consider banal stuff like how much chocolate to eat and whether I really need a second glass of wine. (I do, actually) We have been stuck in analysis paralysis for a week or more, the final and most traumatic of the decision making process which has been gathering pace since last summer.

Last summer, we decided we really would benefit from more space, and despite loving our current home we decided to put it on the market and at the same time consider the alternative - extending. The latter initially appeared ideal but we hadn't bargained for our new neighbours (retired couple with little else to do it seems) putting up the mother of all fights to ensure our plans were blocked, befriending the local council and making THE most ridiculous song and dance about the mere duplication of what everyone else in our situation has been doing on this estate for years. I guess it served to focus the mind, and although we revised, resubmitted and had plans of a sort passed we became committed to moving.


Then R changed jobs, and the nice little plan or dropping J at his early morning school bus each day started to look less than realistic. Throw the proposed dissolution of our Middle School System into the equation, with the peak disruption poised to coincide perfectly with H's transfer and moving started to look extremely attractive. Time to simplify, consolidate and upgrade. Cool.

Pity the Recession didn't share our new found enthusiasm. The ridiculous HIP requirement has resulted in a housing market less fluid than treacle and now completely lacking in the "just testing the water" percentage which previously gave a more dynamic feel. We've had plenty of viewers. We *apparently* have at least two buyers - but they can't sell either and thus the whole thing grinds to a halt something like Essex roads after the Winter of Discontent which created more pot-holes than the lava roads of Lanzarote. I know - I've been there.

So, in a potentially futile attempt to swim against the tide of apathy endemic in the housing market we are going to brave, possibly foolish and most definitely proactive. We're buying, never mind the selling.... but which one? A choice of two...... and that choice is, quite literally, doing my head in. We've done the floor plan comparison, walked countless times from each to the school three of the children will attend, considered the immediate locality for both and compiled copious "for/against" lists. None of it helps but seems to merely add to the general confusion however, so I seriously think we have only one option left, that of tossing a coin! 


So major changes are imminent in the lives of all family members which we (all, actually) find quite exciting, and hopefully we will surge past the current Stalemate and emerge with a new home and proposed lifestyle in the next week or so! I'll keep you updated - and if you know anyone who wants to buy a lovely 4 bed, please send them our way!!

Thursday, 11 February 2010

What are you giving up for Lent?

So next week sees the start of Lent. Not a part of the Church Calendar I have ever strictly observed, but this year I'm giving it my best shot. Some carefully considered acts of penitence and sacrifice might well improve my chances of a less stressful rest of the year! 

So here is my list of good intentions:-

1. Give up reheating cold cups of tea. I know it doesn't work, nothing is worse than reheated cold tea and the chances of remembering to remove it from the microwave let alone drink it are slim.

2. Stop worrying about going to bed early - the sense of failure when it doesn't happen is far worse than the lack of sleep.

3. Accept the kitten will always reach the defrosting bread/cakes on the kitchen worktop (or any other food item left out in the kitchen) before I do and give up expecting otherwise. Miracles do take a little longer, even in Lent.

4. Give up worrying what other people think because the chances are they live on another planet/parallel universe/have no children/haven't heard of ADHD let alone Autism

5. J is going to attempt to give up video games... although he doesn't know this yet. Fortunately Jesus never had to suffer such temptation since the Devil was lacking video games in his arsenal, this will be a tough one I assure you.



6. Feeling guilty. Any parents reading this will know only too well that with the arrival of a little bundle of joy also comes a sack labelled "guilt". The more the child grows, so does the guilt. The failures of parents are extolled in parenting books, newspaper columns, magazines and even now in schools as they strive to "teach" parents as well as the children to tick the necessary boxes for next years OFSTED inspection. In actual fact, the vast majority of parents do a damn good job with scarce resources (sleep) and limited sympathy (the world at large in today's social climate) and jettisoning the guilt is a major step forward. With four sacks of guilt to carry my back is seriously suffering, and the osteopathy bills are no joke.

7. Sweets. I don't really even LIKE them. It's just a sugar fix, something to grab on-the-run and everyone knows sugar is nature's analgesic. Little more than a sticky plaster on a stressful day this one should be easy.... or easier than...

8. Caffeine. Don't even go there. Life without Caffeine is beyond the pale and the subject is totally off limits.


9. And as for my biggest weakness, the internet, I would be in such a state without it that everyone would give up on ME so I think that one will have to stay!

Friday, 29 January 2010

Hmmm the year wasn't supposed to start like this!

My request for a peaceful, uneventful start to the new decade was declined owing to
a) Too many similar requests received from struggling others
b) If you're not living life on the edge you are taking up too much space
c) The Saga which is my life is obviously too amusing or interesting to the Powers that Be who would prefer not to miss an exciting episode of "Woman on the Edge" Series 4 or whatever

Or simply because that version of reality is not available in this parallel universe.....

Anyway, I am delighted to report that January is coming to a close and that I am viewing the start of February as a "Let's try that one again, shall we?" opportunity.


J is STILL on crutches, unable to walk after a hockey injury on December 14th. The wonder that is our National Health Service managed to (yet again) completely fail in Basic Communication, Level 1, and it has taken two Consultants, many phone calls and an irate mother to coordinate an MRI and follow-up appointment after the REAL injury was missed on the second A and E visit. What astounded even me with my (far too extensive) experience of the NHS was the creative way they had duplicated J's identity, fabricating (oooh, are we allowed to use that word??!) another boy a year older, same birthday, same address, name etc and then SPLIT the appointment notes between the two clones. Clever. That took a while to sort out, so the hairline fracture for #2 got fixed but the rather more serious cartilage injury sustained by the REAL #1 got forgotten and they were completely unconcerned that a 12 year old was on crutches with no explanation for six weeks. In the style of my good friend Jen, I told them they could think again on that one....

The "Trials of a Boy and his Tube" continues, although thankfully A's surgeon is of the same opinion as any sane person who knows this child, which is (unfortunately for her) in direct contrast to his paediatrician here. Several appointments later the damage of attempting switching medications is nearly repaired, he's eating most of the time, weight loss has been minimised with the help of frequent slices of Postman Pat "Special Delivery Service" toast parcels (don't ask, but it involves lots of dairy free chocolate spread!) and he's "going" again. Princess K is on form, loving school and trying to learn to read before her twin and score a few points in the process. He's retaliating by teaching himself to tell the time - whoever said children weren't naturally competitive??!!


This week was my turn for a (brief) hospital stay, fixing what having four children damaged lol. All went well but I have been surprised how much a General Anaesthetic can take it out of you. Perfect timing then for my dear husband, supposedly on Gardening Leave and here to care for me (as much as I ever let anyone look after me lol), to get head-hunted yet again and disappear off to London for further discussion.

So January surpassed expectations for being the most hectic month on record. I am under no illusions that the rest of the year will be much calmer, but a few less battles to fight would be appreciated!

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!!!



Friday, 8 January 2010

Well it certainly isn't the weather for Gardening! (Leave)

Twas the last night of work, before having a rest,
Though 'twas not summer weather - and wearing a vest-
I considered the prospect of four long weeks off
and startled myself til I started to cough.

For I suddenly realised the stark implication
Of suddenly gaining an extra vacation
The chance to take stock, have a rest, get a break
Was not going to be easy, and no "piece of cake".







Never mind the requirements already in place
To service car and my teeth - put a smile on my face.
With new glasses on order, a place at the gym
When I start my new job they'd say "Just look at him!"

For all the right reasons, I'd be feeling so good
From getting some respite and rest, that I would!
One problem was looming, an issue so big
it threatened to stop me from starting to dig!

For isn't that just what this leave is about?
Gardening, tidying, and sorting stuff out
I have so many plans, have been making a list
I could go on more but you must get the gist.

The kids have appointments and visits and trips
School runs and homework and somewhere to nip
There's always a problem or dilemma to fix
How to find time for me in a family of six!

It seemed so impossible I just couldn't think
so the only option right now is to sit with a drink
to consider the issue of where, how and whom
and try not give in to panic too soon.

When all of a sudden it dawns on me now
There must be a solution, a way through this somehow.
I know just the person to help me this time
The one who can work things through everytime.


She cooks and she cleans, washes and cares
Tends to the kids, the cats and the hamsters
She washes the clothes, then irons them quick
And STILL finds the time for an internet fix.

She's mastered the art of juggling life
Or at least does it well enough to cope without strife
She's always on time, the kids never late
For ballet or piano, karate or a date.

I'm wondering whether I've had it too easy
Time on the train, coffee and snoozing
The time to think straight, with no one else screaming
Is something I'm beginning to find very appealing.

For now I've an answer, a wee cunning plan
To ensure I start work a smart, fit new man
We'll work it together, this month will be great-
Sharing the fun back at home with my four kids and KATE!


Friday, 18 December 2009

The Festive Spirit

Well it happened. When I least expected it. 

Surreptitiously creeping over me on a fairly stressful morning with a week still to go. All of a sudden I felt the urge to mull some wine, reach for the Quality Street and gaze out on the snowy landscape. That's right, I suddenly got hit by the Festive Spirit. 

I should point out this doesn't usually happen to me until nearer the Big Day. Maybe it had something to do with watching the boys make snow angels, helping K bake Christmas Cookies and later surrendering the (tidy) kitchen to festive mayhem with penguin potato painting and glittery snowmen. Or the fact that I have been struggling to maintain the momentum since the little ones broke up a full week ago believing they would be enjoying Christmas within a day or two. Not helpful.... 


Perhaps I gave in deciding to "ride the wave" in a "if you can't beat them, join them" concession, but I somehow doubt it. The snow helped, and the fact that I am now "ready". The presents are wrapped, cards delivered and the menus planned, the tree is up and the excitement is already at fever pitch here.(Although shopping is a challenge for next week!) But in the end I think there was a chink in the "Bah Humbug" armour and whilst cuddling on the sofa watching a Christmas movie with the twins I was well and truly "got". 

So somehow this has to be sustained until the end of next week, but the Festive Spirit is here, the Quality Street are open (but don't tell Richard...) and the wine is ready to mull. Bring it on! 

Happy Christmas Everyone!!!
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