Over just as it started

Yesterday was a beautiful day. 

Fresh snow, blue sky - perfect for skiing.

All good until a fall, and a ski that didn't come off. Twist...

... snap.

That's pretty much the end of his skiing for 2013.

Snap shots, end 2012

There's so many posts I never got around to this year, too tired in the evenings to craft anything. There's so many pictures I took too, that I never got around to posting - or only posted on Facebook, which is not very helpful for my mum.

So, here's a few things from the past few months. No story here, just random photos from my phone. (And sorry for the Facebook repeats.)

Back in August, Lukan started school.

Which, you may remember, is really preschool. Lukan didn't realise this however, and thought school was for learning. So from the first day, he started writing.

We were impressed with his completely unassisted effort. (Sorry it's upside down. If you're stuck, think annoying English show for kids featuring odd creatures with TV screens for bellies.)

This is the downside of Lukan starting school: many, many, many tears.We knew what to expect from Téo, but still find it strange that going to preschool for half a day 4 days a week can leave kids so tired.

The garden was quite pretty back then.

Skip forward to December, and it got quite snowy.

Max is a truly beautiful cat. The bell is because a neighbour tried to steal him, and I didn't know who it was and I wanted to mark him as owned.

Quincy went through a bit of a bad-tempered stage. She glared. A lot. But now she's much nicer. I suspect the glaring may have had something to do with a non-consensual hysterectomy.

The snow is all gone now, thanks to rain. Loooots of rain.

Téo started the trumpet.

I came across a fondue vending machine. I also started back at work full time. 

There was a fancy pants Christmas party.

We got a Christmas tree from the village for the first time. It was fun. And a bargain - 10 bucks, with two cups of gluhwine thrown in.

This was the first year the kids were really into decorating it.

Each year they get a new ornament, which has something to do with what happened in that year. 

Téo got a mosquito because we have never seen such a badly bitten child with such a huge reaction. Over the summer he had bites that turned into blisters - huge, enormous blisters. And Lukan got a robot made out of odds and ends, because this is what he spent the year doing:

Collecting treasure! You can imagine my joy at this combined with his thumb sucking.

Also, my computer died and took my address book with it, so if you haven't emailed me for a while could you send me a quick hello - or even a blank email - so I can get your address back again? 

Ta!

Not feeling like such a winner

There was a kid in Téo's class last year who was ... disruptive. He'd push the other kids around, punch them, take their stuff, talk rudely. Nothing the teachers did seemed to work - not time outs, not talkings to, not consequences. Every day there was a new story of what he'd done, the trouble he was in. We'd get frequent updates, in tones of disbelief and awe, of the number of rémarques in his class diary - a negative comment that for most kids, is a source of shame.

There was also quite a bit of talk amongst the mothers about this child. None appreciated how his behavioural issues dominated the class. All agreed something needed to be done. And, either explicitly or implicitly, the blame for this problem child fell mainly on his parents. After all, on the very first day of school his mother had said she hoped her son chose to be good this year, because if he didn't then she didn't know what to do. After hearing that, it's not hard to think that child needs better discipline. Stricter limits. Which means, better parenting. As well as, I would never allow things to go so far.

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So. That cocky little last post. It came back to bite us.

For a good two weeks, Téo was pretty much insufferable. Rude and defiant, constantly mean to his brother, lying to our new au pair about what he was meant to do, sulking his way through homework, English lessons and trumpet practice. Nothing we did worked - not time outs, not talkings to, not consequences. He was in trouble all the time. An accumulation of chores under the new system just added to his resentment and disagreeableness.

It got to the point where he was basically refusing to do anything we asked, and taking a yeah, well what are you gonna do about it attitude when we challenged him. He knew he was being bad, he knew he was choosing to escalate every single interaction to a fight. He said so. Add to this a bad cold, a bout of flu, insomnia, and an away-on-work husband... and yeah, I wasn't coping very well. I did not know what to do with him, how to make him change his behaviour.

Last Sunday we reached the bottom - figuratively and literally. Yep, the option I said was a non-starter, well, we went there.

It was horrible. I was in tears, traumatised from the event and wondering how we were ever going to mend our relationship with our son - the son who we love absolutely and had never, ever wanted to hit.

He was still asleep when we left for work the next morning. The whole day I worried about what he was thinking, how much he hated us. I tried to tell myself that I had been spanked and it hadn't hurt me - but I was still heartbroken that things had gone so far.

So I was apprehensive when I got home that evening - where I was greeted with sunshine and loveliness. Hello mummy, did you have a good day, look what we made!

He didn't hate me!

Later on we had a talk about bad moods. I told him a quote I had just heard, that anger is like picking up a hot coal to throw at someone else. He seemed to get it. I gave him some ideas of what he can do when he's feeling angry or grumpy. I said I was sorry we had ended up in such an awful situation. And I told him the mistakes we make are not so important as what we do afterwards, the effort we make to fix what we have broken.

Later still he gave me a bear hug and said he was sorry for all the bad things he has ever done and he doesn't know why his brain sometimes makes him do the wrong things.

How many ways can this child break my heart?

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Things have been a lot better since then, but not perfect. We've gone through tough times with his behaviour before, and I'm coming to realise it's going to be a long road for him to truly get why he should do the right thing. Which means a long road for us to not only set the limits, but keep him within them. It's hard work sometimes. Really, really hard work that I never expected back when we thought we'd like to try for a baby.

And the thing is, he's actually not such a bad child. He behaves well at school, has no academic problems, seems to be well liked. He's smart and funny and friendly. He's not violent. Other mothers have told me, unasked, that they think he's a good and polite kid.

So I keep thinking now, what if that disruptive boy in Téo's class was my son? I like to think I'm intelligent and capable, and that I'm firm in how I want to bring up my children... but if my own pretty easy kid can push me to the edge, leave me doubting myself and my parenting, what if I had a truly difficult child? Could I cope? Could I get him onto a better path? What if I didn't have the support of a husband? What if I had health or money problems as well?

I saw that other kid last night, with his mum, at a small concert in town. He and Téo started out sitting in the kids' row at the front. They both moved onto their mother's lap. To anyone observing, they were two 8-year old boys, same bright curious eyes, same loving mums. No difference at all.

It just drove home for me how I need to make more of an effort not just not to judge the other mother, but to defend her. She's not neglectful, and I'm pretty sure she's doing her best.

She could be me.

Win-win

So last month the constant, repetitive droning of my own nagging voice was driving me a little crazy. Don't eat with your fingers, put your school things way, don't leave your socks on the couch, get dressed, put on clean underpants, brush your teeth, tidy up those toys, don't get up from the table without asking, get your recess, don't speak so rudely .... on and on and on, all day, every day. The complete ineffectiveness was slightly frustrating too.

I knew it was time for a new approach to Raising Polite and Somewhat Civilized Humans... but what? A quick slap, while veerrrryyy tempting from time to time, is a non-starter. Explanations and endless reminders go nowhere. Yelling likewise. Time outs are losing their impact. And I've always been pretty hopeless at sticker charts - we start out OK but then I forget to put on the stickers, or the kids don't care if they miss one, or I end up still nagging anyway.

Then I came across a new sticker chart system - and I love it! A smiley for doing things right, a cross for not doing them right; a reward after a certain number of smilies, a chore for every cross.

The first week, I didn't have to: empty the cat litter, empty the dishwasher, vacuum downstairs. Not once. Last weekend C and I relaxed while the kids: cleaned the car, cleared the table after lunch, and removed leaves from the trampoline.

I've kept it up because I've got incentives either way - I win if the kids do what they're meant to, and I win if they don't. Bonus: the still winning if they fail makes it very easy to not be annoyed and nag, even though I can see the fail coming.

You think it's more of an effort to put your socks in the washing machine than to stuff them among a pile of magazines and then, once you've been discovered, have to put them in the washing machine AND empty the dishwater? Go right ahead!

It's brilliant.

Well, I think so.

The kids may think otherwise.

Autumn 2012

So normally November sees me moaning about the coming greyness and fog. But not this year. Maybe it's because summer was so wet, there's nothing much to miss - and indeed, every sunny day is like a minor miracle? Maybe it's because having started back at full-time work in a brand new position*, I'm too busy to think ahead to next month? Maybe I've just gotten used to the seasonal changes here? Whatever it is, all I am seeing is golden, radiant beauty. And yes I know that's a little on the purplish side, but truly, I am just struck all the time by how gorgeous everything is.

Part of my walk to work. See?

Thanks for coming back here even though I've been so absent. Hope all is golden and radiant with you as well.

* Ha! An unintentional pun! Because part of my new job is branding!

Three little kittens (a belated epilogue)

There was Fish.

She was the kids' favourite, the most friendly of the three, always happy to play, gentle at all times. Lukan was the one who named her, because I'm catching her like she's a fish!

She went to live with C's cousin, who has three young kids.

Then there was Scaredy.

So named because she ran and hid whenever anyone got near. She went to live with a friend of C's mum. Lukan went to visit her the other day... and saw the tip of her tail as she disappeared up a tree. The friend seems happy with her though.

This is Max  Oliver Tom  Max  Oliver Tom  Max  Oliver Tom  Max.

Self-declared vegetarian with a magnificent tail. Patient and gentle with the kids. Lover of laps (and hence, not laptops).

We kept him.

Closure

After the hormones settled down, I was pretty much OK with no longer being pregnant. A bit touchy sometimes, but OK.

The family supper at Easter- featuring two new baby girls - brought a few pangs, but nothing too bad.

At the beginning of August, just a few weeks before what would have been the due date, I held a baby girl and felt nothing other than happiness for our friends. No longing, no what-ifs, nothing. And I was so busy around the due date - being on holidays, then finishing up the maternity replacement, preparing for Lukan's birthday party and the kids starting school - that I don't think I would have even thought about the baby that wasn't there ... if the universe hadn't decided to get in a few last digs.

The first was at the bed and breakfast we stayed at in Italy, when during communal drinks with a few other families one night, one of the women turned to me and said you wouldn't want to go back to the beginning and have another baby, would you?

Uh, well...

The next was in my last week of work, when a colleague asked if we would try for a third child.

Ahhhh...

And the last was when an acquaintance returned my copy of Baby Love, prompting others in the group to ask if I had some exciting news.

Actually...

I was caught off guard each time... not stricken, but knocked about a little. Thanks universe for the reminders!

But I'm OK. The due date has passed, I'm on the pill, life is full and good, there is nothing lacking.

And universe, if you could also be finished with this particular joke, I'd be grateful.