Read and remember

Well - that's an instruction for me at least. So the next time I'm attempting to save the world/ensure my children have stress free lives whilst being the biggest stress-source ever/ control time and space continuum as we know it so that Deborah's ASD will not be a drawback in anyway whatsoever, whilst not so secretly dealing with feelings of guilt, denial, grief and rather a lot of guilt, - I need to read this post.

Here goes - Rachel - relax, You are fine - this may or may not feel true. You are a loving mother, even if you feel incapable of this right now. Actually - that last, although not a nice feeling is ok in the larger scale. It's actually good to accept and listen to your non-lovingness, it won't go until you do. The world will be what it is despite you.

Rachel - your father very probably had ASD. His are the most important mental foundations that you have built yours on. If you are feeling highly stressed, it is most likely you have gone into default, scared mode, and these are the patterns you are using to try and solve whatever is going on. It won't. Dad was globally compassionate, but as an ASD person (which you certainly have many traits of, although for you the jury is out), he also feared it and was constantly trying to fix it. So are you Rachel. You grew these foundations as a response to your father trying to support your mum through bi-polar. There were decisions made that adults could and you couldn't. Trying to control it all by thinking that you are responsible for your mum's bi-polar simply by being born and then punishing yourself for every failure (how dare you fail when you have the gift of life and have ruined someone else's?) and every success (how dare you succeed at anything when you've ruined someone else life, you deserve nothing) - well it doesn't work.

My intensity of self hatred is really quite something. It kind of explains why I'm too afraid to succeed, fail and often quite ambivalent about getting out of bed. But - it's also ok. I just need to know it's there, remind myself of it's root causes and move on. Last night I was full of the worst thoughts, had been crying in desperation in the playground as I'd been angry at D and found her ASD traits completely annoying. Ian was really cross at me, and I was cross as we'd been away where we'd had full support by staying with family and it was so blissful that it was the intense fear of coming home that triggered it for me. Deborah has been getting really challenging recently, pinching and drawing blood every day for over a fortnight has been particularly hard. Coming home was hard as she's stopped on holiday when we all relaxed and I didn't want to be so stressed I started her again.

But on the upside - we now have a specialist SALT visiting once a month who will help D communicate with us and vice versa. She's particularly keen to work with D's anxieties. Thanks to the ed psych pushing, we will also have the local pre school teacher counsellor visiting fortnightly, and I've arranged for a worker from the local children's centre to come fortnightly to encourage play skill - both kids will benefit. I'm also talking to the gp soon to see how they can help and I'm hoping to get a Home Start person soon too. And we have an OT appt in September, plus there are ways to access things to start now, and the SALT will be sending me communication stuff to use at home, so since 31st March this year (when we got the appt) - well I've been busy.

As for the rest - just remember, breathe out, let go and walk on. Be Rachel.

Too awkward to discuss

Well face to face with anyone within Deborah's hearing range. Would be totally unfair. But I have no idea of what to expect from her, as such I am constantly comparing her to other children of a similar age and end up really disappointed. Isn't that a simply awful thing to think about one's own child?

She is so beautiful, and so similar to me and my dad. It's really hard to know how to react to it all, I try to just be with it, but there is so much stuff that trips me up. After a rather thrilling car ride, when I was stuck in the back with a reluctant daughter who did not want to be in her car seat and who really enjoyed all the attention she got for trying to escape - 2 weeks ago, my bruises are still healing. It's the karmic nature that's tripping me up, the physical attacks from a close female relative, too similar to what I had with my mum. Sure that's apparently how it all works, Rev Olwen once said all these cycles come round again and again but it's tough. So many of my reactions are based on things long passed.

It's also tricky as I simply don't know what to expect and I don't know exactly where the tantrums are coming from. Plus she, like many autistic people, is almost super sensitive to emotions, more so than her brother. It's odd, she doesn't understand the outright expression of emotions, but the subtle feeling of it can have her in turmoil. Last week of PMS was fun for both of us...

I'm trying to find more support - home start have no available volunteers but have asked them again. NAS do volunteers but they only come out when your child is over 5. There's plenty of online support and phone lines, but I cant guarantee I can actually talk on the phone so I tend not to use those. I do use an online forum but find my social anxieties are sometimes a little triggered. The local educational psychologist is doing a brilliant project, but her support will be coming to end soon when she will pass me over to the local pre school teacher counsellor to do Deborah's statement. This would normally done by the school that the child is in, but obviously Deborah is not in the education system at the moment. The local special school would be brilliant for Deborah as she would get SALT and OT as part of her lessons which I think she really needs. But to get there, she needs statement and of course she's no longer in the school because of how traumatic it was for her. So fingers crossed for that one. The special school has a family support worker and an autism support worker, I'm trying to access these at the moment as well as someone else who advises on continence.

It's all rather a lot to do.

At the same time, Michael is coming on leaps and bounds, wakes at 4, loves people, chips cbeebies and trains and has the most staggeringly deep voice. They both need nurturing not a mum freaking out about being 40, and feeling tired and unable to study and completely overwhelmed by the whole disabled thing.

Tried out Kalms last week, they were very effective and also compatible with breastfeeding. They even contain hops which boost milk production. Because they were so effective I felt relieved I wasn't "seriously" depressed and resolved not to take them. Bad mistake. I've now decided I will take them when I am pre menstrual as they do work and as I only need a 3rd of the recommended dose, well it's just fine. I really should get over myself.

This bit is really quite hard. Need to remember it won't last for ever.

Funny Old Year

Nothing too deep, but just realised today it's been an odd year so far. We may have known D was autistic, but it wasn't confirmed till March. We weren't expecting to get the Semantic Pragmatic dx either, and in another letter from the Paediatrician she's mentioned sensory processing difficulties. We knew about those of course, as that's why I wrote to her asking for an appt with the occupational therapist, but it seems so much more final on paper. All the stuff with pre school and now post pre school, and trying to decide where D should go to school, well it's lot. Coupled with the very basic fact that Michael has only just started sleeping through until 4 most mornings and then waking at 6 and loosing my beautiful friend Jason (who would have vomited if he'd heard me say that) well it's been a funny old year. So apologies for all the whinging, it could have been a lot worse and there's nothing there, that isn't kind of pretty every day really, but even so. Drinks for all, we near the equinox, feel the solstice fires burning or whatever floats you boat. Or doesn't, those burning fires might be a Viking and all.

Following on

Just posted this elsewhere in response to someone else's post, but cut and pasting to here, so it sinks in a little more:

"Sometimes, for me, the closed door can be a useful metaphor. I'd decided I was going to have an HIV test many moons ago, and went to see the Tibetan Buddha statues in the British Museum. The display was in the process of being refurbished so I could only see their backs, at first I felt cross and let down. Then I realised that it was because this bit I needed to do on my own steam so to speak - the Buddha within I guess. Although that's duality but I think you'll understand what I mean. So closed doors are sometimes helpful.

I've been meaning to email you anyway - Deborah has just received a diagnosis from a paediatrician as being somewhere on the autistic spectrum, and I wanted to let you know. Michael is definitely not, but both full of life, and in the main, happy. Michael's naming ceremony is soon too.

Writing the above bit about closed doors has been a useful experience, yesterday I had a truly terrible day with the children. Whenever they screamed, I did and it carried on for most of the morning, with few breaks. Luckily lunch resolved things happily, and the afternoon was peaceful. Part of it is my feeling of being unsupported and shocked and dismayed after Deborah's diagnosis (my Mother in Law and Ian, and others do support me). Another part is that we're all ill, and I think I have a chest infection too. But its the same experience as seeing the Buddha's from the back again - maybe as well as being propelled to find my own strength there is something about the backbone of the Buddha that's in there for me too? So closed doors or backbones, I guess it's how they are for you too that's useful."

It's confirmed - Deborah is autistic.

Huge Letting Go

Drank so much coffee over half term I was completely wired. And more than a little psyched. As for the bundle of nerves that used to be stomach - well lets not go there. Actually that particular knot of nerves has been there on and off for hmmm about 4 years? Although the pre disposition for it was always there.

I've been looking for ways for it too stop ruining my life but with little success. I have no doubt it will be back either. But for right now, it feels good. Simply because last week we had shocking issues getting D to pre school - well I did, I dressed her one day, and 2 days running took her screaming self the entire length of the village just to get there, OY what a horrible thing to do. Choice worked but we still had other tantrums which have been huge and horrible and distressing for all of us. Today she has a cold so is home and this is probably the reason for the screaming, but we've decided we're not going to push the issue. If she doesn't want to go, so be it. If we end up home schooling so be it. Relieved.

Just realised why it feels so wrong

Because it is. Nursing M back to sleep and holding him with all the love of the world in my arms I realised that it's the not same with D anymore. It's not her fault, it's my huge, huge fear of what's "wrong" with her, what I've done to make it worse, not done, should be doing more of etc, etc. So every single one of my actions is subjected to this intense internal scrutiny - because basically it's ALL MY FAULT.

Good to realise this and move on. Now maybe we can have lazy days and just enjoy them.

Birthday party

We had one today for the children. It was ace. I'm exhausted but thrilled.

Scraping back the layers

Inspired by paintings...

If we didn't prize paintings for the colours,

Instead found the joy in scraping back the layers,

excavating deeper and deeper until we found bare canvas

would this be like preserving old buildings?

old ruins, old foundations?

where we have to scrape back, layer and layer until we reach rock or earth or bricks?

Each layer mines deeper and deeper into our souls,

Into each part of our culture,

incising away layer of our feeling of self.

Is this why old things and creating are so important?

Because without we'd have no way of recording that internal process

of building?

Without that would we know who we are?

Would that really matter?

When you died, then so did I.

Not all of me,

just a small significant part ,that I never noticed was there, never knew

But now it's gone it feels like oceans.

Feeling guilty about feeling guilty and then getting angry doesn't help anyone. Horrible day.

One day I will stop trying so hard,

I don't want to miss your childhood in feeling guilty,

Don't want to miss you growing, becoming you whilst I shout!

Don't want to miss your baby fat legs,

Don't want to miss your chubby fists, your love, your smiles,

Dont want to swap them for anger.

Dont want to eat ashes when I could be chasing for baby kisses,

delivered with an MMMMMMMM and a MWA!

Dont want to miss out

Bad days and guilt feel so final as if the earth has come crashing down. I wish the bit of me that was still grieving about Jason, could just let go. Maybe I have to just let all the happy in around it - I think that's probably the way. All been so ill over Christmas and all ill again a few times since, plus worry worry worry about the ASD thing (despite the fact that as D is actually ill again this week, she is doing really well) - yes I need some happy in.

Sometimes it's hard to remember how much time has passed

sometimes something happens to bring the past tumbling back

then I walk with my feet on two floors

the now and the then.

It's a very odd feeling and I feel I may be going slightly mad

but its ok, the madness of not being tied to the present being a single thing

but rather pregnant with possibilities, a million different things

and of course, just the single fact of it's existence.

So it is a single thing after all

and its folly to think otherwise

but it's useful to look down at my feet

and remember where they have been

and where they are going.

A door is open and shut, all at the same time

A wound is bleeding and healed. all at the same time,

The tree is growing, yet burns in the grate, all at the same time,

We are born and yet die, all at the same time.

After we die we shatter and scatter

Becoming the fragments of memories, snatched pictures, half forgotten conversations,

Floating in peoples minds.

We fade into their memories' DNA, shaping them and their children

In turn shaping the world.

This is our shining soul, our human imortality.

http://www.careers.brad.ac.uk/feature/jason/

This thing that should be about death and feeling distraught is changing.

Like walking under trees in rain and complaining about the wind and the rain and the noise

and forgetting that I'm there, under the wind and in the rain and listening to the noise

And that just being there, right there is enough.

Jason dying has changed so much but left it the same. It's lovely to be in touch with friends I've not had contact with for years though, his final gift in a way is love. Can't undo his karma but part of me would still like him back even though in the bigger picture it's sort of ok. Well it's beyond me saying it's ok.

Grumpy day today, but the kids were still loving. My double standards amaze me - I expect them to be calm and not cross yet what do I do when I'm tired and hungry? Have to work on that one. Probably important not to be too self-judgemental.

Reed bed rippling in the light,

is that the wind blowing

or a soul parting the leaves as they pass by?

Well today I found out Jason wasn't on his own when he died. That seems good. He phoned his folks on New Years Eve as he felt unwell, who took him to their house and called the emergency Dr. They then took Jason straight to hospital, where he either fell unconscious or was sedated. It became apparent he wasn't going to wake up, then his parents called friends of his to say goodbye. A mutual friend contacted one of these friends (Jason's ex) and kindly told me how he died. It seems terribly important to know how he died - and its a huge relief that he wasn't afraid and alone when he died.

People have been immensely kind today and I need to not overlook this in my grief. The gift of simply being here to feel this pain is quite something - I've been so overwhelmed with it all that I've quite forgotten that.

So, Louise was kind in immediately letting me know how Jason died. She phoned on her way back from meeting Steve. Greg was kind too - he owns a local coffee shop and is coffee intense! We'd been talking to a mutual friend about his autistic children, he mentioned this to us and his whole demeanour changed. We went to his shop on Christmas day, and he held my daughter's hands as she was cold and recovering from an awful bug. We've not had the easiest relationship in the past so this means a lot. It's not a tragedy to find out your child is autistic but it needs adjustments and he was talking about that. It's good to talk to someone who has trodden the same path. We also spoke to friends of ours - a gay couple as it turns out. For some reason, because Jason was gay, it was somehow healing and life affirming. Marc's mother died some time ago and I was talking about Jason. I don't seem to be able to stop, but Marc was saying some really poignant yet pragmatic things. Just that dying is inevitable and that for some, dying in their prime as opposed to lonely in old age might be preferable. Plus he urged me to do something on the day of the funeral. We've decided not to attend as it's a long way and I would be quite upset which wouldn't be great for the kids. Plus we can't afford the associated costs. I am sad about this but myself and Marc both came up with the idea of perhaps burning a photo or something.

Letting go - I've forgotten about this. In the past I've relied a lot more on this but it's been hard to do now. Another reason why is I feel guilty for being here now Jason is not. It's only fleeting but its there. Guess it's a version of survivors guilt - he was younger than me and I feel protective.

The world still turns after all. Wish I could go to the funeral. Thinking of releasing something down a stream or maybe going to the Priory although as Jason was a Christian not sure how that sits right now.

Living in the Past

Ok - today has been a good day. I have sniffed at a lot of people that " a very good friend of mine died etc etc" and not dissolved into a heap of tears. This has been a good thing. Plus I haveea actually started to feel slightly cheerful. The unadulterated wallowing although painful is obviously the right way to go.

Part of me is now back at being in my early 20's. This was of course when I saw Jason regularly, especially our tome together working in Manchesterl Museum. Its a slightly trippy experience - most of me is with the kids, arbitrating, feeding, nursing etc, just a little is wandering around, cataloguing stuff early 20 years ago. I loved that collection too! I loved sharing it with Jason as well. I also remember so many kindnesses he showed me, moving me up to Leicester, taking me shopping oce in Manchester when I'd just moved there (I've lived there several times, I don't remember which one) his general attitude that he was there to help. I remember walking into the main gate of the museum to the stores behind, him making coffee at break times, him charming the extremely wonderful Prof Rosalie Davids who I was too scared to talk to. It was a good time - and how much did I enjoy that work?! So much!

Not sure what's happened to all of that now. Not sure if it's lost underneath the pile of leaving job, being ill with ME, recovering and then children or if it's still there. Certainly the 20 year old me would be terribly surprised to be a full time mum, but the essence of me being me and carving out my path in my own style is still there. Not sure if it's even important or not.

Sunlight streams in my memories.

Somehow

this horrible horrible thing is going to be a blessing. I don't know how, I suspect it will be one of those things I don't get for years and years and look back and it will click. Jason was that sort of man.

I think this is so extremely hard for the following reasons:

1. Everyone else I've know whose died was either older than me and/or long term ill so there was't the same shock element.

2. Jason was a year younger than me (his actual birthday was 364 days after mine) so this is the first time that my entire life has encompassed someone else's.

3. This brings me back to being nearly 40 and feeling the need to seize the day.

4. This brings me to needing to see a professional about D.

5. When I was at university, it was the first time in my life that I was actually happy. I believe I spent the first term at university quite down simply because I wasn't expected to be caring for and being depressed about my mum. It was a huge learning curve to be happy.

6. The friends I formed there were in a way the bedrocks of my future life. The previous bedrock type friend was Sharon who died a few years ago (2003) - but she had muscular dystrophy so I was expecting her life to be shorter.

7. Jason was one of those bedrocks and he's suddenly and completely gone. We'd made contact over the summer and talked briefly on the phone since and it was just the same, just the same friendship.

8. We spent a lot of time together in Manchester Museum working on a project cataloguing the Egyptian collections. We got closer as friends.

9. The whole thing about Facebook is that it means you can suddenly keep in touch with people that you haven't for years - Jason was one of these. He was a prolific twitterer so he was very much there - even if he was so techy I couldn't understand half his posts!

10. He was a genuinely special person whose Christian faith and his ability for deeds to match his words was amazing. His faith alone and his way of interpreting it was inspiring.

Wish it didn't hurt so much. Such a wimp!

I turned my face to the sun,

I watched as you said goodbye.

I felt you leave this world,

and move onto the next.

The streaming sun,

knows no difference.

RIP Jason

One of my very best friends from university died from meningitis over the weekend. He would have been 38. We met up with him briefly over summer for tea but the kids were running wild as they'd been in the car all day so we didn't really have chance to talk.

Heatbroken, metta for Jason x

Back on the merry-go-round

D starts pre school on Thursday (should be Wednesday but she has a party on Wed afternoon so a day's grace is necessary). We were all very ill over Christmas so leaving the house was not really an option. When she starts back she will be too tired again to see anyone. So given that the socialising at pre school knocks her for 6 - well I'm glad I know she has at least one friend there. So hard for all of us.

Not really a point to this, feels dreadfully confused and narcissistic. Cabin fever.

What the Dr said.....

... was a lot more than the speech therapist. I went as my pms is worse (stress) and also my asthma (also stress) meaning I can't take my usual painkillers (stressful in itself :). I also wanted to chase up whereabouts in the system Deborah's referral is, as we've not heard anything yet. It turns out that the speech therapist had already discussed her suspicions about D being somewhere on the autistic spectrum with her, yes, more than had been discussed with me the mother but hey why make me worry? If I wasn't so desperately, desperately upset I might be cross. Yes the speech therapist had said she wanted to refer D on, but as she hadn't actually used the word "autistic" to me - well somehow it seems worse and more final now, even though it actually isn't.

It's getting to be the elephant in the room at pre school - last week I was on the verge of taking her out completely after they started rehearsals for a school nativity which resulted in a 24 stress fest and screaming for D. I kept her home the next day, only for the nursery teacher to phone up saying the head teacher stated that D "needed" to be in that day....... Needless to say, we went to town and to the museum and met up with friends who D relaxed and laughed with. The day after we had 2 sets of friends round in the afternoon, the second a nursery friend who was amazed to see D laugh and sing. Pre school is now treating her as if we have a diagnosis (ie pushing her with the play because "that's what worked for another little girl in year 2 with transition problems") so we are going to have a word with them. Anyway, being on the brink of removing D she has now started to really enjoy pre school, which is lovely but confusing. Talking to the leader at our local Home Start group she says that when we do finally get to see the specialist we will get a list of all of Deborah's specific needs. This same leader always emphasises how much eye contact Deborah makes and how elaborate her imaginative play is which is heartening.

On top of everything, we took D to a festival celebrating the Buddha's Enlightenment at the Priory on Sunday. Over the baby monitor yesterday we heard the following,

"Not have ears, not have mouth, not have elephant, not have door, not have fingers, not have hippo, not have momobot, not have momobot, (then with feeling and satisfaction) I AM momobot". There was also a "not have nothingness" in there somewhere too. Direct link to the heart sutra which we had recited.

Ian is so beautifully constant with all of this, I love him more for it. Talking about it yesterday he just looked at me and said simply, "She will be ok you know". I don't know but I'm heartened by the fact he thinks so.

Worry not Boudica!

Nope, I'm not suffering delusions, just that somehow the worries that have bee destroying me and making me awful (again) to the children have now become my foundations and I'm dealing with them. Only some, I can't do anything about Ian's diabetes although he's had some good news for that this week, and happily Michael's chest infection has responded really well to treatment which means I can PUT HIM DOWN and MOVE AWAY FROM THE SOFA AND MAKE FOOD. So maybe its not so much better coping skill as just more food, more exercise and slightly more sleep.

Am now actively chasing the speech and language services for D. I think she was looking forward to going back to pre school, she'd mentioned she wasn't going there and said she liked it when asked. But, well, I'm never 100% on how reliable all that is. I think she likes all the things they do there, but she wilts when she's there, and its destroyed our social life as she is simply too exhausted to do anything. That's a very minor point, but for her if she is wilting at pre school then feeling too tired to see her existing friends - well it sounds very isolating for her. Poor sausage. Her behaviour generally over half term was better than during school time, again it's hard to know if this a sign for immediate removal, or just a sign of exhaustion. The nursery nurses say this is normal -but this is not a cause of comfort.

So more chasing, actually now really wanting a developmental assessment at the hospital.

This hurts now

Feel stuck in a sort of twilight zone quagmire with D atm. Not knowing if there is something wrong or not is a special sort of hell made much worse when one is perfectionist like me. I'm starting to notice so much though, how many games M initiates and D doesn't, how many small kindnesses M shows to D that aren't reciprocated, how much speech she does repeat, how zoned out she gets, how screechy she gets, argh. Poor sausage, this is dangerously close to scapegoating. I'm getting so scared by the things I dislike that I shout at her - how awful, when love and kindness is the only way forward.

All made worse by a week of no sleep and a cold.

Must remember

Snuggling up to Michael as he falls asleep, foreheads touching, little rasping snores, fists unclenching, unfurling like flowers, ah sleep! And children. Tonight I almost wished for the world to stop right here and now, stop in that one perfect, perfect moment. Then I realised what I was asking for and let go.

In other worlds we have started doing yoga after lunch time. That and not actually attempting so obviously insane as leaving the house seems to be helping with the post lunch tantrums. Plus an extra snack at 3 ish. For all my collywobbles which have been many, D runs into pre-school happily, is getting less inclined to kiss me goodbye and runs off quickly to get on with stuff, is happy when I pick her up, and I hear reports from another mum that her daughter really enjoys D's company.

We have done D's initial speech and language assessment, the 2nd comes tomorrow when she will be observed by the therapist in the setting of the nursery to find out exactly what exhausts her. So that will be useful. We are also being referred onto the hospital for checks for further developmental delays. It's hard to know at this stage if D is needing more help. But now we've started this process I think we need to carry on with it. The speech and language therapist said she wasn't going to advise interventions just yet as D's sentence structure is long enough and quite coherent but there is an issue with D repeating things we say, and appearing to zone out. I'm assuming these are pointers towards aspergers. In all honesty I think at this stage a sensitive child who's speech needed to come on would also present the same , so it's good to be getting the further tests at the hospital.

Gosh I love the children so so so much.

And more emotions

Today was Deborah's first day at pre-school. They nearly called me as she was very upset after falling down and grazing her knee, but then she calmed down, so they didn't. Which meant she was there for 3 hours. Through a growth spurt and everything. She seemed qutieter afterwards but in a happy tired kind of way, and was certainly more vocal again after resting. 3 hours! I'm amazed and gobsmacked and impressed, and I hope that it's what she wants because it feels like it might actually be the thing D has been looking for. Fingers crossed.

I of course was a wreck this am. A very lovely and most unexpected thing happened. I held a friend's 9 day old daughter and holding this precious bundle brought back all of Deborah's pre-Michael days. They had partially disappeared in a maelstrom of exhaustion and overwhelmed, so it's the rarest and most precious thing to have that sense of pre-Michael Deborah back. Whilst actually having M and D as they are now of course! This is not nostalgia, just appreciation.

The children cuddled up together on a big cushion giggling this afternoon. I hope they retain their closeness or at least their largely positive will towards to each other.

Finally a friend sent a book by my Lama. It's the first book I ever read on Dharma and combined with today's crisp autumn air - well it's like there's a new cycle happening. New Pratchett out too and my online course in Egyptology starts in October, although I registered for it yesterday.

Being reminded of Deborah being born reminds me once again of that feeling of responsibility towards all beings, of being their mother. Common to all parents's but coming at it from a Buddhist perspective I pray for Tara to protect all beings.

And today

I was incredibly stressed about lots of things that dont actually matter in the slightest but all needed done first thing, all with urgent sellotaped to their foreheads. So I was shouty and stressed and screamy and shouty, but I explained to the kids and asked them to hug me to make me feel better and they did.

The kids were lovely and calm and got on, and friends came round and they shared and were lovely, and I realised that I can be stressed and grumpy and angry around them, just not at them. They can cope, and did magnificently. Unlike the other day when I had been stressy, and stressed at them, so the next day they were foul too. Karma and reflection in one lovely bundle.

Older people and Suicide

Shocked today (probably a mark of my naiveté) by an old lady at the bust stop. She had threatened suicide to a gp as a method of getting further treatment for a minor (her words) heart condition and is attending the funeral of a close family friend (aged 74) tomorrow. He had committed suicide after a hip operation had gone wrong, and whilst waiting for further treatment his dog had died which was too much for him to bear. Just seems so incredibly sad, to reach such an age and to have such violence as the end pages. This is not suicide as in mercy killing, but suicide in response to depression, which links to me because of my mum's suicide attempts in the year after Deborah was born. There were lots before that of course, but it was these ones that have stuck with me. At the time, it seemed awful and as if some part of her was choosing depression over Deborah, now I see I shouldn't take it so personally, but it's just awful how fragile life is. For these people too, awful that that is it for them.

Brrrr, we are our own cold wind, unsettling ourselves.

Today I managed not to shout and even to listen and reflect Deborah's feelings which helped stall a tantrum. Then we realised she is pushing M when our backs are turned (he has some big bruises from yesterday when his trajectory included the door frame). I was shouty yesterday so the guilt is there for all that. I was thirsty today and asked D to move off my lap so I could get a drink. She ignored me, but M went to the dining room table and brought me a drink. Gosh.

Going on holiday

Tomorrow! The night before always makes me a bit sad as it reminds me of how much I do actually love my life and all in it, and how it's all rushing on and on and on and on. So much to loose and of course inevitably one must. But that's also the premise of Buddhist practice so although it is melancholic it's also useful. Beauty of the fleeting rainbow and all that.

Happier news - first surprise period today for months and months and months. Bad timing but am topped up with pain killers and mattress sized towels to take away so should cope. Good point is a complete lack of pms symptoms, oh hoorah, hoorah hoorah for the coil. Did have a niggling suspicion that i may be feeling slight hormonal a couple of times in the last 2 weeks, but then M has been awake about 4 times a night with his teeth - and I have coped and not been hugely shrieky. Hoorah indeed. Have also eaten my own body weight in chocolate daily for the last week, but well that's been fun, although one with a moving target.... The main deal though, the one about being nice/reasonable/involved with the kids due to hormonal balance seems to be becoming true which is just wonderful.

Am seriously considering a list of thank-you's to write.

1. Should be mum and dad here really, but blah blah emotional stuff. Maybe they should be here regardless.

2. The Lama.

3. Ian (after this not necessarily in any particular order)

4. Terry Pratchett - his books made me feel human and interested even at my most ill points and amused, inspired and totally in fan when well.

5. The MW's and surgical teams who did both my c-sections. Especially the 1st lot, who bumped me up the list as they could see how completely desperate I was and also how much D was. Perhaps not usual to be grateful for c-sections but reading up on the after effects of chorioamniotis that I had with D, and then realising I had another infection with M, and that he was in meconium liquor (thin so not that worrying, although he was grunting after being born) - just glad.

6. Can't write to this one but it's related - my breasts for feeding my children. They did not have the best start, but the breasts have done good! I have said thank you many times and been trained by one woman who offered my support shortly after D was born. Her words were, "You're doing everything just fine, you just have to wait for Deborah to get it". Sometime's it's still like that, and I admire Deborah for for her independent spirit.

7. The children for being who they are and allowing me to be very much a mummy in training.

8. Dr Epley who invented the Epley manourvre, thus helping me reduce my vertigo symptoms, wonderful.

9. The person(s) who invented the Coil - my life has been given back. Severe PMS (I suspect it may well be PMDD, but never been diagnosed) has been - well you may have gathered by now :)

10. All the auothors of the great attachment parenting books I've read, that have allowed me to change my views on parenting and realise that love really is ok to share with your children! Also, that I am competent parent for wishing to share that.

11. So many lovely friends, some very inspiring mums.

Feel lighter now. Night night.

5 for me tonight

Today has mainly consisted of sitting on the sofa cradling a poorly Michael, hoping it's teething and nothing infectious.

My 5 are from the weekend and today..

1. The owner of the restaurant who served us on Saturday was called Siddhartha. Won't mean that much but it was the name of the Buddha before he became Buddha. In the flakiest possible way, the universe was saying "Good on yer" on Saturday. Yes the last six months or so have been extremely tough health and indeed everything wise, but as the Lama said, its absolutely the right teaching for me right now. And it is, even the stuff about death which I cannot comprehend but it is.

2. We went to a celebration of 20 years of Reading Buddhist Priory yesterday. Several people commented on my calm, positive parenting, even one of the monks. I didn't believe them, but had a good laugh with another parent who understood how possible it was to appear like this in front of an audience with the additional "pressure" of it being a Buddhist audience and yet not be like it quite a lot of the time also.

3. The thing that made a real and lasting difference and which will for quite some time to come was talking to another friend/parent who greeted me saying "motherhood suits you". What a wonderful thing to say. What I listened to at the time was when I said, "but you know I've been so awful, I've even slapped them" and she said, "well you just do sometimes don't you and you feel so awful afterwards". This mum is also a lay minister. In no way was she condoning her or my actions just acknowledging them and moving on. With the best will in the world, it Does just happen and that's something for my perfectionist nature to just let go of. Also, my goodness, this particular mum is one of the truly great mums I know (and I know a few) so to me, this was really inspiring that I might actually be an ok mum.

us

4. This am I was cranky and dizzy and sick and my back hurt with period pains that niggled like early contractions and I was exhausted. D was being determined to open a door and shut it, and I was worried as it's a heavy glass door and she could hurt herself easily on it. I didn't deal with it that well but not too badly either. She ended up in time out which was a little rubbish but gave us both breathing space so useful.

5. Held Michael for hours this afternoon. D was so kind, she pootled around and wasn't at all demanding and was quite, quite wonderful.

39 today

and a truly lovely day. Not that we did anything special, just enough to keep the family ticking over but that was just absolutely as it should be. My birthday present this morning to myself was realising that I no longer feel scared of being a mother, sure it's a scary thing to be but that's more of a doing response, rather than a starting place which was how I construed it. Going into town the other day with D curled up on my lap, I had an overwhelming sense of this being exactly where I needed to be which is what the Lama did say to me in his recent letter. I am wondering if the anger has been my body trying to communicate with me that it's not well, and that now I have coil in place, and that the effects from that are calming down, that I have things to do for the vertigo and that one day I may get some more sleep, if my body is just happier? Who can really say. It may not be necessary anyway.

Today's 5 - just a lovely day with things happening exactly when needed. Not perfect but even the one horrendous bit - when we turned round in a shop to realise M wasn't there, worked out ok. Time went so slowly, I thought Ian was joking, I scanned the room to check, I ran out into the street, I scanned it so slowly it seemed just to see a lady getting up in slow motion as Michael strolled happily off. Of course, he seemed to be moving incredibly fast, it's interesting how adrenalin effects emotion. I didn't mention the torrent of swear words whilst still in the shop. There was a road directly outside the shop, I am so pleased that for whatever reason in his baby brain, something made Michael turn left, rather than rush straight on as he normally does. Plus the kind lady (who was probably getting up rather fast) also about to bolt after Michael was great.

Sunny and hot so shorts were worn, a great new curry house discovered, bath smellies won in a charity tombola, children fed pretty much constantly the day. Cake in the oven needing out.

Medieval Mayhem

We went to a show entitled the very same today and it was lovely. Felt mean not buying D a unicorn when the little girl next to her was getting one, but please, I mean honestly! My demand for historical accuracy simply wouldn't allow it .... (thankfully too tired for debate on theoretical archaeology). Am needing to get my application sent off for an online course on Egyptology as going to stuff like this reminds me how much I enjoy it.

Ok, so today's number 5 are...

1. D curled up on my lap tonight -so tired! The early morning light makes mincemeat of her anti light blind, the getting up early exhausts her, and she doesn't like to nap or go to bed too early. Tricky for her.

2. D's intense concentration today as she saw someone cutting up cardboard to make a spider shield so she could make a spider shield (hem hem authenticity now?), and her focus when painting it.

3. Michael saying "Do do" pushing a toy car. Quite unexpectedly he loves them! The car's he has were D's although she showed no interest in them. They both liked the train set. Can't quite cope with the gendered toys thing - ick! Have already had to remove a gun set for M! ICK!

4. Yesterday - both kids zooming up and down a tunnel for children at a local animal park. Last year D wouldn't do it, and M was too young. This year, D is so much more confident and M just quite naturally followed her.

5. Not really about them, but just seeing that although I can be quite foul, the kids have their own, quite independent of me resources of loveliness that sustains them, and shows through.

Have just finished reading this. It made me cry lots. My father would always recount how wonderful Chile had been when he lived there as a young man, and was so deeply saddened by Pinochet and his government. As we have just come through an election it really does make the point that we are just a bad government or so away from political evil and monstrosities. Am reminded of this cartoon we studied at school about the Versailles Treaty. Still upset.

I'm shattered...

but the day was ok. Children tired too, waking up at 6 am and in Michael's case teething and in D's case being permanently hungry do not make for tantrum free days. Lunch was a struggle until the kindly man served me food from the buffet I had taken the kids do. Michael would not go in the high chair and only stopped screaming 5 mins after teething tablets and much much mummy milk. Horrible amount of pain to be in. The same man gave us popadoms to take away as it was the only food M would eat. So kind and the extra kindness was the implication of it's totally ok to have your screaming infant here, we care! Lovely.

Managed not to be rude to the lady who complained loudly about D's tantrum (pot, kettle, black) in the middle of the salubrious establishment that is poundstretchers. Just glared and carried on removing D. To be fair, D fits the spirited child criteria to a t, infectious laughter, ear splitting screams, intense focus and hates change, so this wont be the first or last such look I shall receive. Or any parent really lol. At least I did just walk on.

1. Dealing with the extreme bum cream spreading incident this am calmly .

2. Having D fall asleep in my arms on the way home and not wake up howling and cranky.

3. Watching D run off with her friends to the loo and hearing how she was on her return. Not that she went to the loo, but she was keen to watch.

4. Gazing into Michaels eyes as he fed tonight. it always feels like I can see eternity reflected back. Had the same when D was smaller too.

5. Singing with D whilst Ian was rocking M.

A mish-mash day!

Preferences

I would rather not have pushed D away as she was trying to dip her hoummousy potato wedge into the lentils we had been happily dipping into before, but that would have meant coming up with a different strategy and I'd kind of lost steam. Poor thing then screamed so much she was sick, which can't have been a joy for the other customers, but was more a result of her tummy being laden with catarrh as opposed to screaming making her sick. Up till then, and indeed after that point all was good, so I will start with

1. Managing to pull it all together, give D enough space to calm down and then hug her for ages when we were both ready.

2. Bus journey into town was lovely, but early, enjoyed cuddling D and M fell asleep in the buggy.

3. Watching them both tuck into their babycino's in Workhouse coffee - having made the decision to go there after lunch to give us some nice space in town. M sits so well and drinks so well from a cup (if you ignore the huge puddle and dripping jacket). Meeting Deborah's eyes as she drank her babycino, and it just being lovely.

4. Hearing D say more and more phrases.

5. Having them behave beautifully at the hospital, as I was having my check-up (which was fine).

Sadly I reaslised what I should have done was finish what I needed to eat first and then relinquish the rest to D. But writing it down here, it doesn't look as bad and was probably a lot safer than holding the lentils aloft and risking spilling them on Michael. Didn't want to go back to RBH with a scalded toddler.It often gets confusing when I am acting protectively. Need to remember to explain about some foods making mummy sick, and maybe not buying them when it's just me if there's a biggish chance of me having a reaction to them.

Deborah's hearing test

Ah she did so well today! (this is my number 1, I am immensely proud of my daughter). M was howling and miserable, so we had to wait outside to give D a chance to perform the test for her hearing. Which she did, without any separation issues at all. She had to raise and lower little figures into a boat whenever she heard a noise, and didn't particularly want to leave. Her hearing is absolutely fine although there is a slight amount of negative pressure in her Eustachian tubes and the quietest of the lowest frequency sounds had to be turned up before she moved a figure. The testers were not worried as both children were sporting liberal amounts of green snot, and this result is entirely consistent with having a cold. A review test in 3 months. So very happy about ALL of that.

2. Cuddling an extremely tired Deborah on the sofa before bedtime. Seeing her little red shoes and remembering how new she still is. The older child does not often have that.

3. Cuddling a slightly jealous Michael just after. Glorious to feel the full weight of their bodies resting on me totally un self consciously.

4. Spending time with D when M was asleep - we did writing, drawing, sewed cards and play dough in about 20 mins!

5. Just getting through today after being woken about 6 times last night.

“Most of our troubles are due to our passionate desire for and attachment to things that we misapprehend as enduring entities.” - Dalai Lama

This reminded me about my kitchen moment. Also about how guilty I felt about having given birth as one day it means they will day. As I am so afraid of this, it sometimes seems almost selfish to have given the same as an offering to my kids. Ah nutty mother :) But then we all stuff that's just passing through - if I forget about the kids in a certain kind of way and just focus on my emotions in a completely different kind of way than it's a lot easier. Think it's about acknowledging my needs, but not sure right now. Don't need to know either, am happy for it to be a work in progress.

1. Stopped fretting about lunch and tea and fed them bread and butter on tap throughout the afternoon.

2. Fed Michael for hours, and refused some of Deborah's requests nicely so that I could still function without feeling completely drained. Made them both chocolate milk as a compromise and didn't shout when it got spilt as I peeled potatoes for tea.

3. Took them out in the morning and did stuff with them this afternoon despite no sleep last night. Allowed my body to feel as absolutely shattered as it is without too much winging.

4. Made paper hats this afternoon.

5. Started to give pauses after demands to allow time for de-grumping and time for compliance.

Minor Miracles

When I took refuge with the Lama he gave me a red thread bracelet to wear. It had 3 knots in it, 2 of which came untied before the whole thread wore through and fell off. I remembered it today after having a moment in the kitchen when listening to a beautiful song on the radio from way back when. My moment was looking at the kids and realising how they too are just souls/buddha natures travelling alongside me, it kind of freed me of that dreadful feeling of total and overall control and reminded me of a total and courteous respect for them and their feelings which I've overlooked for sometime. The bracelet came along later, the unknotting of my fear's had resonance with it being 2 knots that had gone. I told Ian about my minor miracle, and he asked if I'd seen the Lama actually do the knots, as obviously some knots will just pull apart like that. It's good it doesn't translate, as if it did I would get too caught up in the imagery and forget about the fear and the beautiful, dear children behind it all.

Too many total's perhaps, plus not all of these posts have to make perfect or indeed any sense :)

I also felt a lot better today and didn't loose my temper once. I have been so ill, in such minor ways, but with such big effects on me. I have been so full of grief and anger at my body for daring to come between me and the kids and ruin their childhood - brrrr my perfectionism is quite scary. Yet, from a compassionate view for me as the mum in training, that's a very real set of feelings and to ignore them is to be cold and harsh to myself leaving myself even more prone to anger. I guess this is something about non -duality, to cut oneself off from ones feelings is to deny oneself the opportunity to learn from the Buddha nature inherent within.

As I said, maybe not much sense.

A friend has suggested I write 5 good things I have experienced with the kids a day. She suggested a good notebook, and a nice pen, to be picked up when I feel despair and cross. I thought I would start here though, I'm having trouble identifying 5 whole things apart form making food and bedtimes.

1. Not getting angry - ok this is good :)

2. Starting the Mad Academy today, and being so proud of D who was very independent and wanted to do it all on her own, and did so beautifully.

3. Picking M up with grace and not irritation at least once today when he was howling just as I needed to do something.

4. Wrapping up D's play dough man in a wet wipe so he didn't dry out.

5.

They both

still come for cuddles and love. Maybe there is hope after all.

Pit of self loathing

Not a good place to be. I have now developed vertigo on top of a lovely 3 weeks and counting mirena inspired period. Have been insanely (literally) awful to the children, violence has returned. Trying to be compassionate but to be honest, too bloody cross with the room for spinning around, myself, and ermmmmmm myself.

Fucksocks.

Years ago

I watched a documentary as part of an unfinished psychology a-level course. In it was a brilliant pianist whose short term memory had been shot to pieces as the result of some tragedy. He continually wrote in a diary, "Now I am conscious, today I have awoken!" Struck me, my blog is a little like that. Maybe that's what staying in the present is all about?

Talking to my mum the other day about her paranoid delusions, I noticed that whereas her delusions of paranoia were bad, and mine of self are normal, both are deluded. But it's easier to say mum's are than mine.

The Lost World of Tibet (rare footage of Tibet in 1930s) 1/5

Posted in another blog and reposted here. A great line in it, about "seeking to understand the true nature of life through morality, method etc". I finally got off my mental block and wrote to the Lama, and he has written back advising me to be open, mindful to what's going on whilst remaining in the present as this will be the teaching I need right now. Couldn't really get a grip on it, which is a good thing, as it all needs to filter down, sometimes the slower the better. But it resonates with the above from that film, ties it together a bit more for me. Still very much a work in progress, incoherency is needed here to allow room for growth.

D is being wonderful atm, mainly because she is better and we have been able to Leave The House. Huge improvement in mood for us all. Reading the Compassionate Mind I remembered the problems I had asserting myself over my staff in my previous work, and realised that my fear of self assertion predates Deborah. Its a huge burst of relief that I can put my mental finger on the tangible thing that it is not D I am afraid of for triggering my anger, but it's my own inherent fear of those feelings arising. The sick feeling I have had for an awful long time of Deborah's life, the fear of being her mum and letting her down and destroying her childhood is actually my own fear of my own anger. Hooray to know that. It's been a lot easier with D, not being frightened of her strangely enough... I am much more assertive, I say the same things I said before, just with a clearer, more definite edge to my voice. When I have lost my temper, it's not been as bad, it's easier to pull back from and I don't feel so much guilt in it, just human.

It's also lovely, as I am starting to see how wonderful both my kids are. M is just starting the toddler, self determined phase, and it's great because because so far, I am not as phased by it. This will come though :)

I bought the kids new shoes yesterday - D danced down the road in them, and M copied her when out of his buggy. Long may new shoes and the joy of the moment make them dance.

So...

Three little words - coil, assertion and compassion.

I think the most important one here is compassion, I think it's what's helped me through the last five months of hormone hell, and I think it's what's giving me the courage to strike out and keep pushing forward. "Gone, gone, going on beyond" anyone?

Haven't read the Heart Sutra for a little while, but I just remembered I have the bodhi awake bit inscribed on the inside of my wedding ring and am feeling deeply moved and humbled and grateful to my teacher. He didn't have anything to with that, its the living Dharma link that is so profound and beyond my expression - see I'm tongue tied!

Somehow, it does all tie up together - even when I am so confused and self disgusted and terrified of oblivion, even them I am still feet on path, one step at a time, awakening.

And I was going to post about how the coil has removed my pms symptoms which is so, so so fabulous, how being more assertive and less fearful with D is working wonders for our relationship, about how I still struggle, but can cope so much better with that, knowing that it's a work in progress and will never be perfect, except in many ways it probably already is. Or at least it's providing us with the right conditions for learning and training.

I'm amazed and grateful.

A Compassionate Mind

by Paul Gilbert Excellent read and one that is expanding horizons. More on those in a minute. This book is lovely for me right now, as I simply cannot cope with the concept of karma and rebirth. Yes I believe they are probably true, but the thought of my foulness towards my kids having repercussions beyond this life time is horrendous. Plus a very judgemental view of Buddhist practice and one lacking in compassion and overloaded in guilt. So not a useful debate to have right now, when I am needing to get to the bare bones of it all and got on with it. The it is deliberately vague here.

Working on the exercises form the book atm, not too hard as not surprisingly my meditation practice encompasses them anyway. I am being terrified of my parental archetypes at the moment, so the book is useful as I can kind of sidetrack all of that briefly whilst empowering myself to deal with it. This fear of parental archetypes is pretty big with me. The following is from one of the mirroring exercises.

1. Fear of failure/fear of succeeding - or why I mustn't succeed with my kids as my mum didn't

If I fail I let everyone down, and the world will probably explode and no one will love me and they will all bugger off and leave me. Plus of course I will fail as I can never do anything good, because if I could, no one would have abandoned me right? If I succeed, well that's even harder. In the first place I quite simply won't succeed, thus confirming the fact that I always WILL FAIL, whilst causing acute embarrassment that I was stupid enough to have even tried in the first place - I should have known better and not wasted anyone's time. Oh and by the way I can't even keep the rock I live under clean, what's the bloody point? Plus my mother's needs are far more important than my own, she only had PND after I was born, so it's all my fault she was ill, all my fault she abandoned me, all my fault my dad abandoned me when she came home - so how dare I want anything good? I do not deserve it.

2. I don't know how to deal with a screaming toddler and my self defence is to be foul.

I do not allow Deborah to be a child. A beautiful, sweet, child with a child's grasp of emotions. I expect her to be as neurotically "clued up" on reading human emotions as I am and to display no anger, or frustration. I simply cannot allow her to have feelings. It frightens me so much when does that I feel criticised and shamed all over again, and I want to hurt her for making me hurt. Plus I love her so much for being perfect and herself on her little pedastool that when she falls I have failed her and that makes me hurt and I simply cannot be a grown up about it.

3. My father dieing was actually the first time I was able to say goodbye properly, as an adult and see how good bye is sad but not personal and not abandonment.

When dad died 5 years ago, I suddenly realised how much I wanted children. I didn't understand at the time, but knew it was something to do with the status quo being broken. When he died, we said goodbye properly, it was not the abandonment of a child to a mother weighed down with psychosis, bi-polar and PND. It was sad, but it was good-bye.

Today I realised how powerful that goodbye was. My dad was the sole permanent figure in my childhood, as my mum came and went depending on stays in the local mental hospital. I am realising now those stays were - nothing to do with me. My dad was emotionally detached and although I now know he loved me (his sister used to say so and my mum did also), never once said so in his life. He cried in his unconscious stupor on his deathbed - at the time I hoped it was a side effect of the narcotics, but thought it was really about mum, now I realise he was sad to say goodbye to me too. He died when we all left him, at the time I thought it was because he wished to die without mum because she would have been too distraught, but it was also just after I had said goodbye to him on my own. Who knows, it's impossible to tell and not totally necessary.

My beautiful kids. So much mental change is necessary on my behalf to nurture them, and yet it is all already there. I know it, but do not fully realise it because of the blocks above. It's useful to list them so I can recognise them and befriend them.

Its been a long time

and there's been shouting and awfullness and snow and lovely smiles and cuddles and kisses and play dough and sings and simply tonnes of spiders.

The main theme for the last few months has been surprisingly to me, "putting myself first". Ha who would have thought that to be an effective mummy, i have to pat attention to my own needs... So, PMS has been misery undiluted, taking up 3 out of every 4 weeks (2 weeks shouting, plus 1 week flaked out exhausted and bleeding). Sympathetic gp has suggested the coil. Online research seems to suggest this a good thing and most recent (ie out yesterday) suggests that contraceptive hormones actually have a long term effect of reducing cancer despite a short term blip of increasing it. So boldly once more into the unknown I go...

He Crawls!

Yes he does, he does! But in a very random way, not at all like his big sister. When D set about crawling, it was later in age, and very, very specific. As soon as she could that was it, but until she could, she wouldn't. M is much more of the try, try and try again school. Today it almost seems that although he can crawl, he doesn't realise yet that he can so he is still frustrated about getting places. Almost at the same time as he is getting there.

Michael is 9 months in 2 days time. In 2 days time he will have been living outside longer than living inside of me. Remember this from last time, that truely momentous sense of the baby really becoming part of the world as a separating (from me) entity.

Dentists appt

Deborah had her first dentist appt today. She was great! Despite being clearly nervous, clutching onto her big plastic spider, she sat in the wooshy chair and had a ride. She let the dentist examine her teeth with his mirror which were pronounced all fine. The dentist was brilliant with her, and took it at Deborah pace. We watched daddy have his dental examination first, which was fascinating, with a special light, wooshy chair, the works.

Ian has a job, and starts in a weeks time. I am trying not to crap myself at the thought of being single mummy during the day. It's not being alone with my children that's the problem, it's them being alone with my temper that is.... A friend has helpfully said "We are never asked for more than we can give" or some such but well, we'll see. I just HAVE to be ok which may help. On the other hand, although Ian is earning less, with our new improved shopping habit's (ie cheap all the way) we should cover the drop in income. Plus it's terribly impressive he found a new job so quickly - technically he is still employed by his previous company and is working out his notice period.

Deborah was fabulous at football this afternoon, she is really starting to concentrate and understand what to do. She loved it and was quite worn out afterwards. We are moving to Saturday as I wouldn't be able to be as hands on as she needs as obviously I need to sit with Michael. He had a great time today too, shooting speedily backwards over the polished floor. So close to crawling now. One of his favourite games is kneeling by the side of the bath and bobbing hsi head up and down to say boo. I must try and photograph it sometime the pure undiluted love in his eyes and the joy is amazing. Despite me, my babies love me!

The Voice

More of that in a bit, but first, aren't my kids great? Yesterday Deborah was wandering around Tiny Talk giving toys to other children, running up to babies who couldn't get their own and providing them with balls (she is obsessed with them - footballs, not babies). The Most Impressive Thing was seeing on seeing that a friend of hers was upset because her mum was asking for please and thank yous and the friend was not in the mood for such things, Deborah picked up the crisp said friend wanted and (drum roll) Gave It To Her. Of course we still have hitting, headbanging, howling, squeaking, and kicking to name but a few, but hey my little girl has a big heart and is not afraid to show it . I think D just does have BIG emotions, like us all. As we are not in the habit of making her to Pink to Think, then well she does and out it all comes! Michael is huge and cute and happy and sleeping better since we all sleep in the same bed. I have been trying to co-sleep with him in a separate room to Ian, so that Ian can sleep, but it seems that man snores act as a great lullaby. Of course I've jinxed it :)

Me, well it seems ok. I'm tuning to something I am calling "The Voice" and for this, one should imagine an enormous yet terribly small repellant , grimy yellow creature with lots of snot. It exhausts me and causes stress and is generally foul. My mum often speaks in "The Voice", but although I have definitely inherited it from her, I can claim complete ownership to have kept it going on my own. Basically it undermines every single thing I do, is neurotic an over complicated and believes in shouting and worse at my beautiful children. So it's there in my head and that's ok, many people have and maintain this kind of heritage. It's going to be a trick of letting be and letting go and keeping feet firmly on the floor and bum firmly on the cushion. Just going on, on beyond the shore (or whatever it says at the end of the Prjnaparamia - but really just keeping going is the point here.) Gee, who knew there so many Buddhist buzz words? This blog has been enormously helpful in this tuning process, whereas it's tortuous and achingly dull to read, it seems to help. Maybe in writing there is more of an element of listening than I am aware of. Anyway, whatever it is, thank you and Gassho.

Lots of people have this voice, think Ian has one too atm . We are arguing a little more and it seems to be coming from a place of drift. Not necessarily from each other, I sincerely hope not, just that with redundancy, toddler moods and baby induced sleep deprivation there is a lot of drift. Useful practice though, I am too concerned with correction here and need more letting be, go etc (repeat as above). This stuff is corrosive to all concerned.

Finally the great school debate - or What the Bl***y H*** do we do? A new report out says that structured learning before 6 is counter productive, this links in with what we personally already thought. Any Answers today focussed on that one question for half an hour and there was only one dissenting voice. Who would have thought it? Mums spending time with their children in a relaxed manner, allowing the children to leave at their own pace is a good and desirable thing... I am not confident in my ability to home educate, plus I think that atm, both children would benefit from being in a supportive, sympathetic environment removed from us but when they are old enough. My own fears about my lack of social ability are here, I would struggle to keep in contact with "enough people" - maybe I need to examine this one a little more? How much is enough, with The Voice, even a million would be consumed by the pessimism *laughs* How much to provide for D and M too? I am off to a LLL meeting on Tues where some other mums are planning on home educating so I will quiz them, plus their children are roughly the same age as mine which could also be useful.

A good day

Last night I lay down for a wee while after the children were asleep and kind of didn't wake up again properly. So no post yesterday. Today we all went to see Ian's parents and his brother and sister-in-law (parents staying with brother). Slight car unhappiness for D, but placated by the application of many crunchy corn snacks.

D and M basked in grand parental adoration, and I enjoyed being able to share the babies, having someone else cook the lunch and not looking around thinking "I need to tidy that". Only drawback was that I had to try and think of non-child based conversation. Ian's brother and sister-in-law run an incredibly successful business, have an incredibly swanky house and are very lovely people. I do feel a little over-awed, but I really should value my role as a mother more. I never entertained the thought of actually making money apart from enough to live on as being anything I wanted to do, so it's needless to feel over-awed by those who quite clearly do like making money and enjoy money, and their jobs very, very much. The grand parents are brilliant conversationlists though and kept us all going. Turns out bro and SIL are doing some sort of contract for a famous sportsman's brother so nana was able to keep the convo going on that whilst I gobbled roast potatoes.

Blah, blah very vague. it's hard to remember that one is unraveling one's own little corner of the universe in one's own way sometimes and that that is all anyone can do. By unraveling I'm talking about letting go. I'm reading Bill Brysons "History of Everything" atm and it's literally blowing my mind a little bit. So much of it seems to link in with Dharma, even the whole energy is matter thing. Tonight, Bill was talking about how atoms last for 10 x teeny 35 (can't do mathmatical notation) ie an incredibly long time and how all of us will contain a billion atoms from historical persons like Shakespeare or indeed anyone/thing from the past. Amazing - even more evidence (if any were needed) of interdependence.

Counting

Not, "1,2,3,5,8,9,10" like D, but using thi blog to record how often I shout. I'm amazed at the impact of writing down "I shouted at my puking baby" - it's hit home. So although this is giving in to my perfectionist tendencies, I am finding recording this stuff useful. Need to find a way for 2 tired parents to communicate without snapping now...

Think D is getting bored with tiny talk so considering changing our standard Friday am fare. There is a local group which might be good. Ian is reading the Science of Parenting which notes that children that attend pre school before the age of 5 are better developed cognitively but less well developed emotionally. As he points out, they can catch up on the cognitive stuff. D's speech is def less well developed than other children her age, as is her ability to sit and listen but she also shows compassion. Hmmm, think we may become even more freaky, deaky lentil knitting parents.

Woohoo

We *drum roll* Had A Good Day. ok so even if Momo is up every 30 mins tonight or whatever, the day was good and must be recorded. Especially as I have been such a droopy draws drama queen of late. Anyway, no shouting, 2 tantrums from D which were reasonably quickly resolved, masses of feeding from M but only to be expected what with tummy bug, working on toof number 5 and wanting to crawl so badly it hurts! D played beautifully with her blocks today with Momo and me handing out, sharing, chatting about shapes/colours and so on. Ian had a meeting in Maidenhead so we had mummy and babies time this morning and it was just lovely. Reading with D, D being able to share her bf's with Michael so much more which is hugely, hugely HUGELY impressive, just a lovely time. Lunch and then pj shopping for D - 2 pink pairs and 2 football pairs for our budding *insert name of leading womens football player because I can't which is a damn shame*. Then hot chili chocolate in a Deborah friendly cafe. Bliss.

Suspect period is coming hence huge amount of food consumed. Either that or the simply enormous amount of BF I am doing atm. D is getting very good at sharing, but part of that is sometimes feeding as often which as M often feeds every hour or 30 mins during the day means a lot of milk production. Ah well, keeps my svelte figure in trim (hollow laughter).

Good and bad are rubbish words to be using, way too primary school but currently stuck for equivalents. Then again, may be more over thinking. Hmm.

Limpet Baby

Yup the puking Momo (a traditional Tibetan dumpling and perfect nickname for M who is rather circular) needed his mummy today, and his mummy was happy to oblige. A little shouty when I was feeling overwhelmed by sheer quantity of liquid expelled plus his evident distress, but I managed to calm myself and soothe him by being there as I undressed him. Poor little guy, his t-shirt was see-through it was so wet. Moments of bliss today - Ian took Deborah to her football session (despite feeling grim himself) which left me holed up with the Momo. He fell asleep on my, so I simply edged myself back and also slept for 3/4's of an hour. Bliss! Deborah had such a great time at football though, she is the only girl there and doesn't follow instructions. It's an interesting one as I primed her by advising her to do what the teacher says but oooooo you know it's a tricky one that. Should she be primed to follow the instructions of strange men really? Too tired now, and probably over thinking.

Oh yes, the thing about the women yesterday - if only they had come up and said hello and distracted Deborah and been pleasant instead of just being someone else staring at our screaming child. Shame, missed opportunity there.

Copying

Dri9fting off to sleep last night I was thinking about what actions of mine D actively copies. Endless repetitions of "No hittin, MusnIT", endless Michael cuddles, kisses and giggles and demands for mummy cuddles, cooking, yesterday a demand I breast feed her baby doll, and spider drawings. Maybe I'm not such a terrible mother after all.... Temper still needs working on though but useful stuff to realise.

Michael and Ian ill today with upset tunmies, D has already had it and I'm hoping I have too but very mildly. Realised that my sinuses are totally blocked hence recent feelings of doom. Always gets me. So useful to blog more, although a boring read, does help me see whats going on.

Restraining Toddlers

Just how much should you restrain them when you are in a public place, and they are so out of control that they will hurt themselves, and you? Ian carried D mid tantrum today, this ended up meaning she was looped over one arm, as in all other positions she finds ways to head butt and hurt both of them. Didn't stop the gawkers though. Now, if they had been really concerned for D's welfare I would have expected them to actually come up and check us out but to keep on walking whilst turning periodically to turn and stare seemed odd. Especially as it was quite obvious that D was calming down and that, we her parents were already calm, and I don't think that most child abuse happens when one is calm and in a very public place. Although, of course, I could ALWAYS be proven wrong. Actually it has made me much more pro holding and walking not less as it gives us all quiet space for emotional dissipation and less chance for D to cause pain, which is always good.

Deliberately wrote this mornings post when I was feeling pretty grim after waking. There are some recurrent themes for me atm that I would like to do more with, and they come up biggest and most scary when I am feeling vulnerable. Later on I try and hide it, and I need to not do this. So no resolution here, just identification and awareness.

Useful stuff from the LLL this am, including me pretty candid and being assured this was all normal. At the time this didn't seem like much, but now it does. Also, stuff about making lists of triggers and making up solutions when calm, treating energy as anger and walking or reconnecting with nature (second time this has come recently) when it arises, and allowing the children to own their own feelings so that all I have to do is own my response to them. A nice thing on the sleeplessness too - I am making the choice to be there for my children (M needs me at night, D needs me 1st thing in the am, so lie-in's are rare), so don't need to resent the tiredness as it's the result of my own decisions, not something imposed upon me. To be completely honest, this doesn't quite hit the spot, as I know and honour that decision already anyway, but its good to be able to discuss in such a supportive setting.

So lots to work on. Oh yes, more too for myself about my perfectionist nature. If I wasn't so determined for my children to Have The Best Childhood I Can Possibly Give Them it may be easier... Plus, I would be less stressed, so would they and you what? Everyone might jut be that little bit happier :) Who would have thunk it?

Hot bath and bed calls, night night.

Just so tired. Not yet 9 and I'm ready for bed. Hate it, it's so insidious. Having a quieter week so feel lonely but hate that feeling and am rubbish at dealing with it. Already been too shouty and foul with the wee one this am, bleurgh.

Turning and Facing

Sooooo we had mum to visit yesterday and for the first time in ages I was so calm. Then I realised, I was finally turning and facing all my stuff rather than running terrified and lashing out, feeling overwhelmed. Need to carry on with this approach if I can work out how to do it. Suspect letting go may play a part in it somewhere.

Also, D is much calmer herself. We took her to get her shoes measured, and her feet have gone up 2 sizes in the past month. She has been on a massive growth spurt! Part of it has been mental too, hence her need to climb and run and kick balls and all sorts of other stuff. Am hoping her newly developed habit of screaming for entire car journeys is related to this need and will go when it has been expressed. Well, you win some, you lose some.

M is huge and getting huger. Teeth popping out all over the place - ok all in the mouth, and he only has 4, but it seems like a lot more. Today we finished his room (laughs - D's was finished months before she was born, how different it all is with 2 :) and he is in it as I write. Not sure hwo long he will stay in it tonight though. So much nicer to sleep cuddling my baby, and better quality sleep for both of us two.

Am reading the "Fussy Baby" book by the venerable Sears' atm., They advise burnt out mums to keep a daily journal so watch out for more of my drivel. Reading it makes my feel much less burnt out and much more grateful for my two who are both a little high need atm. But that's all good and it is an honour to have those needs to meet. Stroking Deborah tonight as she lay in bed waiting for sleep I remembered the profound sense of awe I felt when she was born, welcoming this incredibly old yet completely new being into my life and it crept over me again.

No shouting

As it says on the box - we realised how shouty we were getting with D, mainly due to how aggressive she was getting. So we stopped, and surprise, surprise so's she. Hmmm might there be a Dharma teaching yelling out to be heard in there? Ahhh compassion and karma, once more unto the breach etc, etc. Basically it's so lovely for me too, I didn't realise just how much I was scaring me when I shout. Sometimes it's inevitable, as when D ran into the road today, but most of the time, a calm quiet voice, face to face contact at toddler level and respectful speech is much better. I was so busy triggering my own inner child's wailings I was rendering myself completely incapable of dealing with the real wailing child in front of me. Poor kid.

Another lesson coming up is how differently people see D to me and Ian. We see her as confident, loud, outgoing, happy with huge lashings of toddler, fierce intelligence and concentration. Talking to lots of other people (some of whom whose judgement I trust ;), they see her as quiet, stroppy, introverted, intense, self-content, needing space and zoning out when it's all too much, bright and with an immense concentration. Suspect the truth is somewhere in between. Must free her from my projections.

We do have a nice life!

It's perfectly wonderful and I love it deeply. Needed to say that because I do whinge so much!

Running in ever decreasing circles of self hatred and fear recently - how to be a better, less shouty, more compassionate mum? Grasping at half thought-out ideals - I should remember deep compassion, I should remember how I felt as a child, how I feel after I have shouted, how much I love Deborah and Michael, their almost impossible preciousness to me, I should remember about innocence and dependency as a child, vulnerability and heart ache, low self esteem from conflicted parenting, I should take more responsibility - you can probably guess where this is going, needless to say the list goes on...

Today I tried to simply relax into a really good moment, just to be. The be-ing is sustaining and just is, and you never know, it may help with the grotty bits. I love my kids!

In the meantime, it's really difficult to do anything reasonable like string two words together, remember words, names, faces blah di blah on the sef pitying trip when I'm getting so little sleep. If I didn't try so hard, it would be a lot easier.

Redundancy

Ian's been redundant. More accurately he is on gardening leave, and if no more work can be found, he will receive notice of redunancy in a months time, after which he will be made redundant in 10 weeks time. He will get paid for all of that time, plus receive a lump sum so we will be ok for a while.

Now the mummy tiger in me has stopped screaming "but we have a 6 month baby, nd a toddler how could they DO this to us?" I'm feeling slightly more rational. Of course they can do it to us, and its actually been done in a very humane and generous way for which I am incredibly grateful. I have decided not to tell my mum for the simple reason she will fret and I will react, probably very negatively. Its kinder to all to simply leave it. I will mention it at some point, just when I feel strong enough not be nasty.

Huge big shock, so many friends are living under the threat of it, and yet it's actually happened to us. Oh well, has to happen to someone.

Continued from yesterday

Well I went to bed and I thought, you know I haven't written down half of what I need to remember - so here goes.

The tantrums have been a huge journey. The first step towards this phase happened a couple of days or so before Deborah's MMR. At the time I remember being so thankful as I knew that if that step had co-incided or come after the jab I would never have been able to be sure just what caused it. This is from someone that views vaccines as a social and moral duty too.

Anyway, we all carried on mainly just holding or using distraction when D had a tantrum. It was a difficult time as a lot of it was at the same time as I had hyperemisis with Michael, so spirals where we fed each other's behaviour were more common than I liked. The hyperemsis was so awful - poor D to have such a grotty mummy, 5 months is a long time when you are less than 2.

When I was in labour, I heard awful, awful stories from Ian about how difficult D was finding it without me, she wouldn't eat, was howling all morning and was told by his parents who very kindly came to look after her that " they would be there when she had finished". Needless to say this did not work, but fair enough they are of the generation that views that sort of behaviour as dangerously manipulative, and leaves babies in prams outside for hours until their next feed etc, etc. It was a difficult time for all of us and at least D was with people she loved even if none of them were getting on particularly well at that point.

When I came out of hospital D naturally was hugely jealous of M, hitting him a lot and finding me feeding him just dreadful. It was horrendous for all of us and is probably the reason why Ian now spends so much time at home - D's spark points used to be when I fed Michael and I needed extra hands to cope. Its safe to say we were not terribly consistent in how we dealt with D, I wanted her hugged but was/am shouty, Ian's tolerance was longer than mine so he would leave D for longer than I could, and that also led to tensions. Oh boy all that plus a very hungry new baby in the mix - it was a difficult time.

Although leaving D to work it out didn't work, the one benefit for me was that it gave me clues on how to find space within the high drama. It reminded me to breathe and be calm. So although it was temporarily worse for Deborah, it somehow released enough space in me to be able to cope better in the long term. Another big stepping stone was talking to a friend at a BfN support meeting about the tantrums. I finally admitted that my real sticking point was my complete and total fear that this seemingly bi-polar behaviour was just that - bi-polar in my beautiful daughter and she was going to end up committed in an asylum by her mid-twenties (why so specific? I suspect more than a hint of transference) and there was NOTHING I could do about it. Several swallows later and staring out the window (I really didn't want to start howling myself, the friend was doing far more than duty calls for already) the enormity of my fears hit me and I listened to them. At the same group, another mum shouted at me as Deborah hit her much smaller, younger daughter. It clicked then, that D is my one and only priority and she is just, just, "just" a child, behaving as children (and me on occasions) do. I am responsible to her and no one else in that situation. Naturally I apologised to the mum and removed D but it was a useful, if painful moment.

Somehow we muddled on and luckily just started to hold Deborah when she was howling. The space she needed was not physical space on the floor, but loving space in our arms whilst she sobbed and screamed and raged. Then I read the book I mentioned in the previous post and suddenly, thankfully it all made sense. Now I can see which bits of me are reacting also, as my own childhood has left me damage and really wanting to lash out so much. More importantly I hope that the loving space in our arms is helping D's brain to grow loving neurons so she can become more resilient. There's something to be said for supporting someone in pain that surely means long term mental illness is less, not more likely. And that's why I think our society is so sad. So pre-disposed to ignoring our own emotions having been taught they are wrong we continue to suppress our own and those of our children and so it continues. Heartbreaking.

This is not to suggest any of this is fait accomplis by any measure. Still a work in progress, but hopefully one we are creating together and not at odds over. Time will tell.

Our tantrum journey

Reading this post really made me think about what we've been up too. For various reasons (inexperience and a culture geared towards disbelieving and belittling children's emotions helped) we were rubbish at dealing with Deborah's tantrums. More specifically, we were taking it personally, and felt put upon almost and that she should meet our expectations and DO something, DEAL WITH IT and other obnoxious-itites. We went though the whole gamut of holding her, taking to her, time out, saying "we will be here when you've finished, you can have a cuddle then" and you know what, surprise, surprise nothing "worked".

Then, thankfully I read this book and realised that actually it is my little girl crying, in pain, anger hurt, frustration whatever. It doesn't matter, she is just crying (and headbanging, hitting, shoving whatever) and our job as parents is just to love her and hold her in that space so she can deal with it. Same job as always, nothing else required. And now we do hold her, and yes she still tantrums but it's a lot less, shorter when it happens and we're all a lot less grumpy.

Why are we (and by this I mean as a society) so geared towards punishment for distress? So sad! As the play on radio 4 said today (about a french woman falling in love with a nazi soldier and being persecuted by her village) "Hate is easy, but love is so much harder".

Our holiday was fabulous!

A week in a folding camper with two smallies and two biggies may not sound much but it was heaven. More of that later (prob not tonight).

Can't stop thinking about death right now. Having children really puts one right into the whole stream of it all - being childless meant although I was terrified of death I was somehow more apart from it, but now I AM part of the whole maiden mother crone trilogy. Their youth marks my becoming older. Really dont know what to do with this one, having the screaming heebie jeebies is my common reaction but not useful. Walking to the toilet block with Deborah holding my hand, seeing all the caravans coming and going, I couldn't stop just feeling the impermanence of it all. One time I left her behind as I was going for a shower and as she watched me go I was so so aware that soon it will be me watching and waiting. Michael has teeth and stands and rolls and eats (so far only sand but you get the picture) and it's all so darn quick! And I love them so so so much and know I will not always be there for them. They will also face the speed of time, and I can't protect them from that or their own mortality and stupidly I feel guilty.

So melodramatic I apologise. Buddhists are supposed to be able to deal with this stuff, at the very least it's the heart of our practice. I must contct the Lama somehow. Probably not a visit as even though the fact of my own physical impernance and insignificance in the face of the universe terrifies me, sadly not more than navigating a trip to the big smoke with two small children.