So I've just picked Kovu up from pre-school and I feel a bit sad. I'm going back to work in January and so the boys are coming with me, full time (term time only but still full weeks). This in itself makes me sad because I'm not going to be with them as much as I'd like, but it's something that has to be done. So that's made me sad to begin with, and then we got home, put the Christmas CD on and are making cakes and it started to cheer me up, I love Christmas, in case you didn't know, December is my ultimate favourite month, but my cheeriness didn't last all that long before I realised I actually don't remember a Christmas with my Dad.
The first Christmas I remember is the one just after he died. Mum had her friend stay over and when we woke up she told us that she had heard Santa's reindeer on the roof so he must have been and left us presents. I don't know if she remembers this but it is a memory I hold very dear, because I was convinced I had heard them too!
I remember coming downstairs and seeing Mums big smile. How did my Mum smile that Christmas? How could she possibly muster the will to smile that Christmas? How did she put up the tree and the (minimal) decorations we had? How did she not end up making that Christmas a miserable one? How did she make it a happy Christmas memory for me. GG and Dan won't remember it because they were far too young, it was Dan's first Christmas. I cannot imagine the heart break my Mum felt that year.
I've had one hard Christmas and that was 2011, it should have been one of my best because it was my first Christmas with my big boy, but because of some silly little girl deciding December was a good month to tear my world apart, it was bloody hard to put on the smile that year. But middle finger to her wanting to destroy me, nothing she could ever throw at me could, because I look up to my hero, my Mum, and if she can make my first Christmas memory a happy one that year, then I could certainly make my baby's first Christmas a Christmas with smiles. I look back at photos of that Christmas and last Christmas, Romeos's first Christmas, and I can see the difference in my smile, it was real last year, and my eyes weren't sad anymore. I'm sure if Mum did the same she could tell when her smile became real again around this time of year.
It'll always be hard, but every year a different little thing will grab at my heart and crush it a little bit. This year it's the revelation that I don't have a Christmas memory with my Dad, and the fact that he's not going to get to watch Kovu in his first Nativity Play next week.
He's not going to get to ever see any of his Grandkids in a Nativity Play, or watch them rip open their presents or pull a cracker with any of them or hear them laugh at his Christmas cracker joke. He'll never get to see the New Year in with them, or us. I don't know what he was like when he was drunk, I don't know how bad his singing was when he'd had too many, I don't know what his best Christmas memory was, I'll never know. People can tell me stories about him but that isn't enough. It never is.
I'm hurting today.
But the boys are playing dinosaurs and making me laugh, as always, and I will ALWAYS make their Christmases as special as my Mum did, every year, for us!
Thursday, 11 December 2014
Thursday, 13 November 2014
Adding to my Panic Attack post
I was lying in bed last night, and I had started thinking about "what if I forget how to breathe."
I was able to stop this thought because it took me back to a memory. An important memory that I have only JUST been able to connect to my panic attacks. This is where and when it all started! And I hadn't known it until literally last night. I've obviously remembered this memory and thought about it before last night on a few occasions because it's a scary memory, but one with a, kind of, happy undertone.
I was 5/6/7 I can't remember exactly how old, maybe mum remembers?
We were still in the flat, and Dad was no longer with us. (Which is what has allowed me to narrow it down to that age range.)
Us 3 were in bed and mum was downstairs.
What I remember is looking at the lightbulb and beginning to worry that it would never turn on again, I was worrying about how it worked and the fact that I didn't know how it worked, much like how my panic attacks start nowadays. The lack of control or knowledge over the ins and outs of things. (Buildings falling down because I don't understand the structure and how they are put together, how do the massive buildings in London stay up even with shops at the bottom of them with just glass fronts holding them up?!?!?!?! But I'm not going in to that because that's how I'll start one off!)
Then moving on from my lightbulb fear, I thought I might forget how to breathe. And then my breathing got very shallow and hard and I was having to think about breathing in and out. I was having to (or thought I was having to) manually think about how to breathe. I remember running to the top of the stairs with blurry vision honestly thinking I was going to die.
The next thing I remember is mum holding me on our landing with that massive white chest of drawers/changing top/general dumping ground, and breathing in and out with me until I calmed down. I don't have a memory of calming down or getting back in to bed but I remember the panic attack. The first panic attack I ever had and I've only just made the connection and the realisation that it was a panic attack! About a bloody light bulb!!!
I was able to stop this thought because it took me back to a memory. An important memory that I have only JUST been able to connect to my panic attacks. This is where and when it all started! And I hadn't known it until literally last night. I've obviously remembered this memory and thought about it before last night on a few occasions because it's a scary memory, but one with a, kind of, happy undertone.
I was 5/6/7 I can't remember exactly how old, maybe mum remembers?
We were still in the flat, and Dad was no longer with us. (Which is what has allowed me to narrow it down to that age range.)
Us 3 were in bed and mum was downstairs.
What I remember is looking at the lightbulb and beginning to worry that it would never turn on again, I was worrying about how it worked and the fact that I didn't know how it worked, much like how my panic attacks start nowadays. The lack of control or knowledge over the ins and outs of things. (Buildings falling down because I don't understand the structure and how they are put together, how do the massive buildings in London stay up even with shops at the bottom of them with just glass fronts holding them up?!?!?!?! But I'm not going in to that because that's how I'll start one off!)
Then moving on from my lightbulb fear, I thought I might forget how to breathe. And then my breathing got very shallow and hard and I was having to think about breathing in and out. I was having to (or thought I was having to) manually think about how to breathe. I remember running to the top of the stairs with blurry vision honestly thinking I was going to die.
The next thing I remember is mum holding me on our landing with that massive white chest of drawers/changing top/general dumping ground, and breathing in and out with me until I calmed down. I don't have a memory of calming down or getting back in to bed but I remember the panic attack. The first panic attack I ever had and I've only just made the connection and the realisation that it was a panic attack! About a bloody light bulb!!!
Sunday, 9 November 2014
Panic Attacks
I've been suffering from panic attacks since I was 14. I'm not really sure that there was a trigger for it, maybe just growing up, but I'm certain they stem from my Dads fatal car crash, like a delayed response.
There is no pattern, as such, as to when I have one, but they do tend to follow the same themes, for example, it'll be a windy night and I'll start thinking about the house collapsing. Ridiculous, I know, but at the time of me thinking it, it's not ridiculous and it's a very real threat!
I've had some years where the panic attacks are rare, maybe once a year, and then I'll have a year, like this year, where they just keep coming and lasting longer, and creating even more worry, because I'm worrying about worrying!!!
I am very lucky, as I've mentioned before, in that my family, as ever, is always supportive, and offer words of advice and just a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to bend if I need to go through things with them. The trouble is that, when I'm not panicking, they can tell me over and over again the things that will calm me down, but when I'm having a panic attack, these calming words don't make a blind bit of difference!!
When I'm in that panic mode I just have to concentrate on my breathing! Literally - In and Out, In and Out, once I've calmed my breathing down I can start to count. That then makes my mind concentrate on something other than whatever it is I've thought about to bring it on, and will, eventually, calm me completely. I can think of the specific things that bring on my panic attacks without always having one, which makes it harder to determine when I'm going to have one. If it was the case that, when I think of a certain thing I will have a panic attack I could try to control it by not thinking of whatever it is at all, but it doesn't work like that, unfortunately. Even when I'm talking about what I've had an attack about I can see that it's always an irrational thought or fear, but it doesn't matter when I'm panicking, how ridiculously far fetched the worry is!
So I've got Kalmz to take 3 times daily, and a relief spray to use when I can feel one coming on (although they always happen so quickly that I can't actually stop them!) but I often forget to take them, and also find it difficult to take them because they make me so sleepy. (my Auntie Karen also suggested that the tiredness probably comes from the worry itself as well, and having 2 little boys to run around after of course!) I used to take Kalmz when I was at school and uni to keep the attacks at bay, but I'm finding they're not really working anymore, I think I was more accepting when I was younger, that they would help, now I'm worrying that they won't and I'll still have panic attacks, which makes it a self-fulfilling prophecy!!
I've had suggestions from a lot of people (mainly my Mum and my sister) but never thought about writing the panic attack triggering thoughts down!! (This really should have been thought of long before now, 11 years on, but it just didn't cross my mind!) So on Wednesday (our tradition of going to Auntie Karens for tea) Karen suggested I write these thoughts down to get them out of my head and on to paper! DUH!!! So this is exactly what I'm going to do from now on! It's going to be a massively long list of things because I worry and panic about things no sane person would! It frustrates me, and the last one I had I was crying to G, asking why she doesn't get them? Why doesn't she think the same things as me?
I'll give you a very brief insight into a typical day for me:
I wake up/stop dozing because I don't really sleep because of thoughts racing round my head. If either boy is not in the bed with me I panic that they've stopped breathing in their sleep or they've suffocated under their duvet/pillow/teddy or if it's K, that he's got himself wedged between his bed and the bed guard and suffocated that way (which isn't possible but I still think it!)
I then go in to check on them or whichever one it is that hasn't got into my bed throughout the night. When I realise they are fine, I've already woken them up so we start the day. I triple check that the stair gate is closed because I'm terrified one of them will fall down the stairs and break their neck or smash their head. Then we get ready amongst other worries like they'll fall off the bed and break a bone while I'm brushing my teeth and they are jumping on my bed (typical morning!) I will just add here that I won't stop them doing this or certain other things that make me panic because I understand they are boys, and they are children and I would NEVER want them to suffer because of my worries.
We go on with our day, if it's a pre-school day for K I'll panic that I haven't put enough clothes on them to keep them warm and stop them getting a cold or the flu, or that I've put too many on them and they'll get too hot. I am aware that these things are not going to kill them (at least not directly) and I have got common sense and a flipping level 4 qualification in childcare, but it doesn't mean these worries don't raise their ugly heads!
I then get home and do some form of activity with R, all the while worrying that K will get hurt or be upset while I'm not with him. Then R goes for a sleep, wakes up and has lunch, at this point I worry about R choking, which then makes me worry about K choking at pre-school and no one realising!! I am counting down the minutes until we pick up K and then when I get him home I do another activity with them both.
The day goes on like this and by the time the boys are in bed I then worry about how the day has gone, if I have done enough with them, stressed at them at all, handled situations the right way with them, if they have full bellies, have had enough to drink throughout the day so they don't wake up with headaches, if K has had too much to drink before bed and is going to wet the bed or not, and if they've gone to sleep happy and with nice dreams. (I'm going to be a wreck when they have their first nightmare!)
This doesn't cover the other worries I'll have if they have been playing rough with Daddy, Uncle Dan Dan, Uncle Jamie etc. If they do a roly poly I panic they will break their neck, if one of my horrible family members (who I swear do it on purpose :p) have been throwing either of them up and down and swinging them round, or even just putting them on their shoulders, I worry that they'll drop them, they'll hit their head and then bleed internally or be disabled from a head injury!
I realise these are over protective thoughts and so only stop them from doing these things if I've got to the point where I can't keep the panic away but I really do try to stop having these thoughts and worrying about stupid things that I shouldn't let worry me!!
I think it boils down to one thing, control. If I don't have control over something, I tend to start worrying about it which then can lead to a panic attack if I can't shift the fear.
Ebola and ISIS have been two things recently that I've really had to work on to stop a panic attack coming from the thoughts about either of them.
But some things are so deeply in my head that I can't even work on them.
I will stress here, that at no point have I ever had a panic attack in front of my boys, they tend to overwhelm me at night when the boys are safely tucked up in bed, thankfully.
The reason my panic attacks stem from my Dads car crash is that I am constantly aware and thinking of the fact that it takes a simple second for your whole life to change, or end! And it doesn't have to be your doing either! I have been driven around in a car by someone who was speeding and I have said to them to slow down and their response was "it's okay, I know these roads like the back of my hand!" My response to that was "You might, but someone else might not, or a deer/rabbit/fox could run in front of you, then what?!" I've heard on so many occasions the phrase "I would never endanger you/the boys etc" and my thoughts on that phrase is that no one would.... intentionally! But my Dad didn't endanger himself intentionally either! It was another drivers fault, another drivers mistake. Even if it had been my Dads mistake, that split second, that single decision determined the rest of his life, and ours. No one thinks like this.
But I do!
There is no pattern, as such, as to when I have one, but they do tend to follow the same themes, for example, it'll be a windy night and I'll start thinking about the house collapsing. Ridiculous, I know, but at the time of me thinking it, it's not ridiculous and it's a very real threat!
I've had some years where the panic attacks are rare, maybe once a year, and then I'll have a year, like this year, where they just keep coming and lasting longer, and creating even more worry, because I'm worrying about worrying!!!
I am very lucky, as I've mentioned before, in that my family, as ever, is always supportive, and offer words of advice and just a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to bend if I need to go through things with them. The trouble is that, when I'm not panicking, they can tell me over and over again the things that will calm me down, but when I'm having a panic attack, these calming words don't make a blind bit of difference!!
When I'm in that panic mode I just have to concentrate on my breathing! Literally - In and Out, In and Out, once I've calmed my breathing down I can start to count. That then makes my mind concentrate on something other than whatever it is I've thought about to bring it on, and will, eventually, calm me completely. I can think of the specific things that bring on my panic attacks without always having one, which makes it harder to determine when I'm going to have one. If it was the case that, when I think of a certain thing I will have a panic attack I could try to control it by not thinking of whatever it is at all, but it doesn't work like that, unfortunately. Even when I'm talking about what I've had an attack about I can see that it's always an irrational thought or fear, but it doesn't matter when I'm panicking, how ridiculously far fetched the worry is!
So I've got Kalmz to take 3 times daily, and a relief spray to use when I can feel one coming on (although they always happen so quickly that I can't actually stop them!) but I often forget to take them, and also find it difficult to take them because they make me so sleepy. (my Auntie Karen also suggested that the tiredness probably comes from the worry itself as well, and having 2 little boys to run around after of course!) I used to take Kalmz when I was at school and uni to keep the attacks at bay, but I'm finding they're not really working anymore, I think I was more accepting when I was younger, that they would help, now I'm worrying that they won't and I'll still have panic attacks, which makes it a self-fulfilling prophecy!!
I've had suggestions from a lot of people (mainly my Mum and my sister) but never thought about writing the panic attack triggering thoughts down!! (This really should have been thought of long before now, 11 years on, but it just didn't cross my mind!) So on Wednesday (our tradition of going to Auntie Karens for tea) Karen suggested I write these thoughts down to get them out of my head and on to paper! DUH!!! So this is exactly what I'm going to do from now on! It's going to be a massively long list of things because I worry and panic about things no sane person would! It frustrates me, and the last one I had I was crying to G, asking why she doesn't get them? Why doesn't she think the same things as me?
I'll give you a very brief insight into a typical day for me:
I wake up/stop dozing because I don't really sleep because of thoughts racing round my head. If either boy is not in the bed with me I panic that they've stopped breathing in their sleep or they've suffocated under their duvet/pillow/teddy or if it's K, that he's got himself wedged between his bed and the bed guard and suffocated that way (which isn't possible but I still think it!)
I then go in to check on them or whichever one it is that hasn't got into my bed throughout the night. When I realise they are fine, I've already woken them up so we start the day. I triple check that the stair gate is closed because I'm terrified one of them will fall down the stairs and break their neck or smash their head. Then we get ready amongst other worries like they'll fall off the bed and break a bone while I'm brushing my teeth and they are jumping on my bed (typical morning!) I will just add here that I won't stop them doing this or certain other things that make me panic because I understand they are boys, and they are children and I would NEVER want them to suffer because of my worries.
We go on with our day, if it's a pre-school day for K I'll panic that I haven't put enough clothes on them to keep them warm and stop them getting a cold or the flu, or that I've put too many on them and they'll get too hot. I am aware that these things are not going to kill them (at least not directly) and I have got common sense and a flipping level 4 qualification in childcare, but it doesn't mean these worries don't raise their ugly heads!
I then get home and do some form of activity with R, all the while worrying that K will get hurt or be upset while I'm not with him. Then R goes for a sleep, wakes up and has lunch, at this point I worry about R choking, which then makes me worry about K choking at pre-school and no one realising!! I am counting down the minutes until we pick up K and then when I get him home I do another activity with them both.
The day goes on like this and by the time the boys are in bed I then worry about how the day has gone, if I have done enough with them, stressed at them at all, handled situations the right way with them, if they have full bellies, have had enough to drink throughout the day so they don't wake up with headaches, if K has had too much to drink before bed and is going to wet the bed or not, and if they've gone to sleep happy and with nice dreams. (I'm going to be a wreck when they have their first nightmare!)
This doesn't cover the other worries I'll have if they have been playing rough with Daddy, Uncle Dan Dan, Uncle Jamie etc. If they do a roly poly I panic they will break their neck, if one of my horrible family members (who I swear do it on purpose :p) have been throwing either of them up and down and swinging them round, or even just putting them on their shoulders, I worry that they'll drop them, they'll hit their head and then bleed internally or be disabled from a head injury!
I realise these are over protective thoughts and so only stop them from doing these things if I've got to the point where I can't keep the panic away but I really do try to stop having these thoughts and worrying about stupid things that I shouldn't let worry me!!
I think it boils down to one thing, control. If I don't have control over something, I tend to start worrying about it which then can lead to a panic attack if I can't shift the fear.
Ebola and ISIS have been two things recently that I've really had to work on to stop a panic attack coming from the thoughts about either of them.
But some things are so deeply in my head that I can't even work on them.
I will stress here, that at no point have I ever had a panic attack in front of my boys, they tend to overwhelm me at night when the boys are safely tucked up in bed, thankfully.
The reason my panic attacks stem from my Dads car crash is that I am constantly aware and thinking of the fact that it takes a simple second for your whole life to change, or end! And it doesn't have to be your doing either! I have been driven around in a car by someone who was speeding and I have said to them to slow down and their response was "it's okay, I know these roads like the back of my hand!" My response to that was "You might, but someone else might not, or a deer/rabbit/fox could run in front of you, then what?!" I've heard on so many occasions the phrase "I would never endanger you/the boys etc" and my thoughts on that phrase is that no one would.... intentionally! But my Dad didn't endanger himself intentionally either! It was another drivers fault, another drivers mistake. Even if it had been my Dads mistake, that split second, that single decision determined the rest of his life, and ours. No one thinks like this.
But I do!
Monday, 7 April 2014
Support
I wanna write this one as a kind of thank you to a few people. Well a lot of people really.
I watched a CSI episode once and Katherine said something that stuck with me. There was a death in a family that was being treated as suspicious. It ended up being a death of natural causes but the family had been put under the microscope and all the "bad" things, the family secrets, had been exposed. The woman at the end of it said to Katherine I bet you think we're an awful family and Katherine's response was that all families look awful when they're put under the microscope. It's true. All the little things that are brushed under the carpet and forgotten about (or at least attempted to be forgotten about) are what makes a family, a family. Sometimes these little things can glue the family together, other times they can be the reason the family breaks apart.
This is the same for individuals. All the little things that make up someone's personality, all their little mannerisms and traits, if put under the microscope can make you love a person or, not love, not like and sometimes hate, that person.
So my thank you is to all those people who know my awful things and still love me and support me.
There's something going on at the moment that's putting my head and my heart in overdrive and Saturday it got a bit much (as with everything with me!) and the one thing I thought was "oh it doesn't matter anyway because as long as I have Gina, nothing else matters!" I whole heartedly believe that! And I'm lucky enough to know that no matter what (literally no matter what) I have got Gina by my side, through everything! I know Ginas love for me is unconditional and mine for her is too. I am so privileged to have a relationship like that with my sister. I've said it before but she is my soulmate. About 6 months ago I went to the funeral of my great aunt, my Nan's sister. All I could think about was the fact that my nan was having to watch her sister go behind those curtains. And then I saw my grandad put his arm around her and I was gone!! Then all I could think about was I hope it's Gina who has to have her husband put his arm round her and see me go behind those curtains because I could not cope if it was the other way round!! We've always said we'll go together when we're old and grey but if that's not the case and it's Gina to go first, I'll follow shortly after due to a broken heart! My brother doesn't even come into this because I can't even let the thought of him, ya know, enter my mind cos I break down! Probably because of my dad!
So anyway off subject a little bit. ANY decision I have to make and anything I have to face, anything at all, whether I'm doing the bitch slapping or I'm being bitch slapped, whatever decision I end up making, whether she agrees with it or not, Gina is there for me. Along with a lot of other people as well! I can't list them all but certain special mention needs to be made to Nicki, Leanne, my auntie Karen, my mum, Dan and Jamie and anyone else I've forgotten to mention.
Thank you for making me who I am today and for the fact that I know you guys love and support me no matter what! Even when I'm a twat! I LOVE YOU!xxxxxxxxxxx
I watched a CSI episode once and Katherine said something that stuck with me. There was a death in a family that was being treated as suspicious. It ended up being a death of natural causes but the family had been put under the microscope and all the "bad" things, the family secrets, had been exposed. The woman at the end of it said to Katherine I bet you think we're an awful family and Katherine's response was that all families look awful when they're put under the microscope. It's true. All the little things that are brushed under the carpet and forgotten about (or at least attempted to be forgotten about) are what makes a family, a family. Sometimes these little things can glue the family together, other times they can be the reason the family breaks apart.
This is the same for individuals. All the little things that make up someone's personality, all their little mannerisms and traits, if put under the microscope can make you love a person or, not love, not like and sometimes hate, that person.
So my thank you is to all those people who know my awful things and still love me and support me.
There's something going on at the moment that's putting my head and my heart in overdrive and Saturday it got a bit much (as with everything with me!) and the one thing I thought was "oh it doesn't matter anyway because as long as I have Gina, nothing else matters!" I whole heartedly believe that! And I'm lucky enough to know that no matter what (literally no matter what) I have got Gina by my side, through everything! I know Ginas love for me is unconditional and mine for her is too. I am so privileged to have a relationship like that with my sister. I've said it before but she is my soulmate. About 6 months ago I went to the funeral of my great aunt, my Nan's sister. All I could think about was the fact that my nan was having to watch her sister go behind those curtains. And then I saw my grandad put his arm around her and I was gone!! Then all I could think about was I hope it's Gina who has to have her husband put his arm round her and see me go behind those curtains because I could not cope if it was the other way round!! We've always said we'll go together when we're old and grey but if that's not the case and it's Gina to go first, I'll follow shortly after due to a broken heart! My brother doesn't even come into this because I can't even let the thought of him, ya know, enter my mind cos I break down! Probably because of my dad!
So anyway off subject a little bit. ANY decision I have to make and anything I have to face, anything at all, whether I'm doing the bitch slapping or I'm being bitch slapped, whatever decision I end up making, whether she agrees with it or not, Gina is there for me. Along with a lot of other people as well! I can't list them all but certain special mention needs to be made to Nicki, Leanne, my auntie Karen, my mum, Dan and Jamie and anyone else I've forgotten to mention.
Thank you for making me who I am today and for the fact that I know you guys love and support me no matter what! Even when I'm a twat! I LOVE YOU!xxxxxxxxxxx
Thursday, 27 March 2014
The terrible twos!!
The terrible twos is only called the terrible twos because fucking nightmare twos doesn't rhyme!!
Kovu is most definitely going through this tantrum phase (has been for a while now!) and everything is responded to with an adamant NO, a growl or spitting is the new favourite atm! Unless the question is do you want some choc/a biscuit/a cake etc, and then the response is a very cute "uh huh" nod of the head and smile! As a nursery nurse I have worked with children from 6 weeks old to 9 years old and the 2-3 year olds have never been my favourite age to work with because of the fact that they have these little tantrums caused mostly by frustration of knowing exactly what they want but not always being able to express it, or if they can express it they then can't always get what they want exactly when they want it and they haven't quite learnt the art of patience yet and are just beginning to understand the concept of sharing and waiting their turn! This is actually happening right now cos Kovu wants my phone but I've said no. So he's saying take turns take turns and I'm explaining that it's mummy's turn now and Kovus turn in a few minutes! It's not going down well!!
So as a nursery nurse I know all the different approaches to manage Kovus behaviour and have tried the majority, if not all, of them in the last few months. I read something recently that said terrible twos can be avoided if the children are taken outside and given chance to run around etc. I do this regularly (having 2 boys and a dog, I have no choice!) and I can honestly say the person who wrote that clearly didn't have kids!! Or certainly not my Kovu!! Taking him out does calm him down while we're walking away from the house but when we're on our way home the temper flares up again. I give him a 5 minute and a 2 minute warning, I've tried walking different routes, distracting him on the way back with cats/sticks/leaves/lamp posts/whatever I can think of, and he still stresses out at me! Because he is frustrated that we are not doing what he wants to do! I understand the tantrums! I get the behaviours and the reasoning behind them all in a two year olds head and in a childcare setting I can quite happily deal with them effectively but at home with my own baby it is not that simple! The emotions get in the way. My own frustrations of knowing I could be doing something else with my time rather than repeating the same phrases (don't spit that's very rude, we do not hit anyone let alone your brother/the dog/mummy, this behaviour is not acceptable, wait your turn, share with Romeo/Lola, sit in time out and calm yourself down and then I will talk to you! etc etc!) over and over again! And then I look at his little face and remember that is exactly what I should be doing with my time, helping my baby grow into a respectful, loving, caring, kind little boy, rather than the pain in the bum he is at the moment!! And I love him for it!!
Kovu is most definitely going through this tantrum phase (has been for a while now!) and everything is responded to with an adamant NO, a growl or spitting is the new favourite atm! Unless the question is do you want some choc/a biscuit/a cake etc, and then the response is a very cute "uh huh" nod of the head and smile! As a nursery nurse I have worked with children from 6 weeks old to 9 years old and the 2-3 year olds have never been my favourite age to work with because of the fact that they have these little tantrums caused mostly by frustration of knowing exactly what they want but not always being able to express it, or if they can express it they then can't always get what they want exactly when they want it and they haven't quite learnt the art of patience yet and are just beginning to understand the concept of sharing and waiting their turn! This is actually happening right now cos Kovu wants my phone but I've said no. So he's saying take turns take turns and I'm explaining that it's mummy's turn now and Kovus turn in a few minutes! It's not going down well!!
So as a nursery nurse I know all the different approaches to manage Kovus behaviour and have tried the majority, if not all, of them in the last few months. I read something recently that said terrible twos can be avoided if the children are taken outside and given chance to run around etc. I do this regularly (having 2 boys and a dog, I have no choice!) and I can honestly say the person who wrote that clearly didn't have kids!! Or certainly not my Kovu!! Taking him out does calm him down while we're walking away from the house but when we're on our way home the temper flares up again. I give him a 5 minute and a 2 minute warning, I've tried walking different routes, distracting him on the way back with cats/sticks/leaves/lamp posts/whatever I can think of, and he still stresses out at me! Because he is frustrated that we are not doing what he wants to do! I understand the tantrums! I get the behaviours and the reasoning behind them all in a two year olds head and in a childcare setting I can quite happily deal with them effectively but at home with my own baby it is not that simple! The emotions get in the way. My own frustrations of knowing I could be doing something else with my time rather than repeating the same phrases (don't spit that's very rude, we do not hit anyone let alone your brother/the dog/mummy, this behaviour is not acceptable, wait your turn, share with Romeo/Lola, sit in time out and calm yourself down and then I will talk to you! etc etc!) over and over again! And then I look at his little face and remember that is exactly what I should be doing with my time, helping my baby grow into a respectful, loving, caring, kind little boy, rather than the pain in the bum he is at the moment!! And I love him for it!!
Thursday, 6 March 2014
Toilet Training
As many of you know I am currently toilet training Kovu, good age for it at 2 years 5 months, his speech is really coming along now and I thought it would be a good time to start. So I've been confined to my house for the last 4 days (so far) and we have had many wee wees on the floor, one wee on the toilet, one poo in his night time nappy and one other poo on the stairs trying to get up to the toilet (bless him!!) but now Romeo has a bad throat and sniffly nose and has had diarrhoea the last 2 days (covered me at 8pm last night, nice little bedtime surprise!) because I think he's got a tooth cutting through! So now my very easy 7 month old is clingy and tearful and refusing to eat anything that isn't puréed (even though he's on mashed food!)
So Thursdays are my asda delivery day and today I thought I'd better steam clean the playroom so Kovu could play again in a sterilised area, rather than a wee wee soaked area (clearly I've been clearing up the wee wees with dettol spray but nothing beats a good all over steam clean!)
I think I've got time before the asda delivery arrives to clear the playroom of all the foam mats, toy boxes, books, toys etc etc so I move everything to the living room, which now looks as though a toy bomb blew up in here!!
I manage to steam 1/2 the floor while Romeo screams for me to pick him up and Kovu just generally getting under my feet like a 2 year old boy, and then there's the knock at the door, 23 minutes before schedule! Wonderful if I wasn't just a little bit busy with the house in a little bit of a state! But I was a little bit busy and the house was a little bit of a state ( I don't care what the delivery guy thought, I just had very little space in which to put the bags!) but I managed it, while Romeo continued to scream for me and Kovu stood at the door with his little winky hanging out from under his top!! (If I'd have had that extra 23 minutes I'd have covered him up!! Lol!)
During all of this Kovu keeps stopping occasionally and holding his willy, so I ask of he needs the toilet each time, to which he replies with complete certainty "no" and then a little dribble will drop out and he looks at me like uhoh! So I rush him up to the toilet and then it seems he no longer needs a wee wee. No worries, lots of praise for trying, jump off the toilet, wash hands, and back downstairs (again Romeo is screaming the whole time because I've left the room!) this is happening very regularly and I'm slowly feeling my patience ebbing away, not with an individual child but just the situation. Add to that the fact that I'm on a diet to get in shape before GG's wedding so my love for food vs my want for a slimmer body battle is well underway, the fact that I didn't sleep well last night because Romeos nose was blocked so he was struggling to breathe and ended up in the bed with me, covered in a baby vapour rub and olbas oil, and the fact that I cannot shut off my many thoughts and worries about life in general and it's probably safe to say I am stressing out today!!
BUT being a mum is still the best thing I ever did!
So Thursdays are my asda delivery day and today I thought I'd better steam clean the playroom so Kovu could play again in a sterilised area, rather than a wee wee soaked area (clearly I've been clearing up the wee wees with dettol spray but nothing beats a good all over steam clean!)
I think I've got time before the asda delivery arrives to clear the playroom of all the foam mats, toy boxes, books, toys etc etc so I move everything to the living room, which now looks as though a toy bomb blew up in here!!
I manage to steam 1/2 the floor while Romeo screams for me to pick him up and Kovu just generally getting under my feet like a 2 year old boy, and then there's the knock at the door, 23 minutes before schedule! Wonderful if I wasn't just a little bit busy with the house in a little bit of a state! But I was a little bit busy and the house was a little bit of a state ( I don't care what the delivery guy thought, I just had very little space in which to put the bags!) but I managed it, while Romeo continued to scream for me and Kovu stood at the door with his little winky hanging out from under his top!! (If I'd have had that extra 23 minutes I'd have covered him up!! Lol!)
During all of this Kovu keeps stopping occasionally and holding his willy, so I ask of he needs the toilet each time, to which he replies with complete certainty "no" and then a little dribble will drop out and he looks at me like uhoh! So I rush him up to the toilet and then it seems he no longer needs a wee wee. No worries, lots of praise for trying, jump off the toilet, wash hands, and back downstairs (again Romeo is screaming the whole time because I've left the room!) this is happening very regularly and I'm slowly feeling my patience ebbing away, not with an individual child but just the situation. Add to that the fact that I'm on a diet to get in shape before GG's wedding so my love for food vs my want for a slimmer body battle is well underway, the fact that I didn't sleep well last night because Romeos nose was blocked so he was struggling to breathe and ended up in the bed with me, covered in a baby vapour rub and olbas oil, and the fact that I cannot shut off my many thoughts and worries about life in general and it's probably safe to say I am stressing out today!!
BUT being a mum is still the best thing I ever did!
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