0 comment Friday, June 20, 2014 | admin
My thinking went a bit weird a while back, only I didn't notice it for a while. I'd be watching women on TV, presenters, characters in dramas, actresses and so on, and I'd always be thinking the same thing - she's got children, so how come she's got a job? I did think it about men too sometimes, but far less vociferously I have to admit.
I took a year's adoption leave when our two were placed with us, then decided not to go to work after that period of time. Though both children were in school, it seemed to me they needed me to take them there and pick them up, and they needed me to be there at holiday time or when they were sick. They were two pretty traumatised kids who needed a very high level of support. My husband works long hours in a job that offers no flexible life/home balance so it was all down to me. I chose to quit my job and be a full-time housewife and mother.
I wasn't making a political statement. It wasn't a judgement on people who did things differently. I just seemed the right thing to do for the sake of two children who had had a shitty start in life. In fact, I might even say I felt quite noble about it.
But then, once, I spent an entire episode of Location, Location, Location wondering how Kirstie Allsopp could be filming up in Northumberland when she had two young children back in London. Now, I figured that Kirstie has a nanny or two to help her out, and maybe her partner was around to do the necessary, so I wasn't thinking her children were neglected. But I was cogitating furiously on Kirstie's choice to enjoy a working life rather than be with her off-spring every second she could.
After that, I realised I was driving myself mad. If I read a newspaper piece or a book written by women all I could think of was whether they had children or not, and if so, how come they were working? Out shopping, driving my car, women everywhere, and there was me wondering if they were mothers, and if they worked, and how much time they spent with their children.
I was going nuts. I had to have a word with myself about this obsessional thinking. And when I did, I realised that I was actually deeply jealous of these women. I was jealous because they had had birth children and therefore this somehow permitted them to have a life outside of the family. It was OK for them to work, their children were mentally healthy and could quite safely spend time with child minders or nannies or in clubs, because they knew only one mother, would only ever know one mother, and all the bonding was done within the first six months of the child's life, leaving the mother free to have her own life with no harm done to anyone.
My thinking seemed to run that as I was an adoptive mother, there were different rules for me. The bonding with my children was going to take years. They had another mother that they could go back to when they got older, so I better well be damn perfect if I wanted them to hang around with me by choice when they turned 21. I had better make my life about them, be in tip top physical and emotional condition for them. Think about them all the time. Sacrifice my life for them.
Yes, my thinking had gone somewhat squiffy. I had gone too far down the line of being sacrificial and self-flagellating.
This is probably because I didn't take to full-time mothering like a rubber ducky to bath water. I might even go so far as to say I hated it at first. Not hard to understand why; two children screaming at me all the time, rejecting everything I did for them, even as they cried for me. But it was more than that. Being a housewife means being responsible for a lot of menial tasks. My mum loved ironing, mopping floors and hoovering. I don't. Yet suddenly all that was the main focus of my day. That and supermarket shopping. I'd gone from doing an important, high-profile well-paid job, communicating with the high offices of this country, to seeing nobody and doing nothing but cleaning, food shopping, and being an emotional punch bag to two very disagreeable house guests.
How I didn't become depressed, I'll never know!
I just know that I made myself be a good housewife and mother through gritted teeth. It took me a whole year to get anywhere near as good at it as I needed to be. It is the most difficult thing I have ever undertaken. All I wanted, during that time, was to go back to work. To not have to shoulder the responsibility of this family all the time. And yet, me being there was what the children needed. I would have been a shitty mother had I have worked because I don't have a lot of energy and the children needed so much from me those first few months. And being able to volunteer in their school, accompany my children's classes on trips, attend special assemblies, and be there when they were sick - it has all been invaluable to this family. I did the right thing.
But when you start to look at other women and feel jealous that they have a career they enjoy, when it's all you can think about and it becomes an obsession? Well, That's when you know you need to have a rethink.
So I've come up with a plan. Literally, a business plan. I'm going to start my own business, working from home*. That way I can still fit my hours around the kids, but I can also shift the focus of my days beyond housework, to something more personally rewarding. I don't think I'd be any happier getting some crappy part-time admin job, which is the alternative, but I think I can be happy doing this.
I think. We never really know do we? Until we try? If the business falls flat on its face I can always go back watching Jeremy Kyle and playing online Bingo all day**. But I am hoping it will get me thinking straight again. It's low financial risk, so not much harm done if it doesn't.
Funny, isn't it? This is a massive thing for every woman who has children and yet it has felt like a very personal battle. Am I disrespecting, even harming, my children and family by channeling some of my attention elsewhere? Am I disrespecting, even harming, myself by focusing so much on my family and children? The answer will be different in every family, the balance found in a different place. But answer and balance there must be, whether the children have been adopted or no.
*Sorry to be so vague. Can't write anything too identifying!**That's what everyone who's not a parent thinks that full-time mothers do all day. I've learnt there is no point in arguing as they will just carry on believing what they want anyway. Sad, isn't it?
I took a year's adoption leave when our two were placed with us, then decided not to go to work after that period of time. Though both children were in school, it seemed to me they needed me to take them there and pick them up, and they needed me to be there at holiday time or when they were sick. They were two pretty traumatised kids who needed a very high level of support. My husband works long hours in a job that offers no flexible life/home balance so it was all down to me. I chose to quit my job and be a full-time housewife and mother.
I wasn't making a political statement. It wasn't a judgement on people who did things differently. I just seemed the right thing to do for the sake of two children who had had a shitty start in life. In fact, I might even say I felt quite noble about it.
But then, once, I spent an entire episode of Location, Location, Location wondering how Kirstie Allsopp could be filming up in Northumberland when she had two young children back in London. Now, I figured that Kirstie has a nanny or two to help her out, and maybe her partner was around to do the necessary, so I wasn't thinking her children were neglected. But I was cogitating furiously on Kirstie's choice to enjoy a working life rather than be with her off-spring every second she could.
After that, I realised I was driving myself mad. If I read a newspaper piece or a book written by women all I could think of was whether they had children or not, and if so, how come they were working? Out shopping, driving my car, women everywhere, and there was me wondering if they were mothers, and if they worked, and how much time they spent with their children.
I was going nuts. I had to have a word with myself about this obsessional thinking. And when I did, I realised that I was actually deeply jealous of these women. I was jealous because they had had birth children and therefore this somehow permitted them to have a life outside of the family. It was OK for them to work, their children were mentally healthy and could quite safely spend time with child minders or nannies or in clubs, because they knew only one mother, would only ever know one mother, and all the bonding was done within the first six months of the child's life, leaving the mother free to have her own life with no harm done to anyone.
My thinking seemed to run that as I was an adoptive mother, there were different rules for me. The bonding with my children was going to take years. They had another mother that they could go back to when they got older, so I better well be damn perfect if I wanted them to hang around with me by choice when they turned 21. I had better make my life about them, be in tip top physical and emotional condition for them. Think about them all the time. Sacrifice my life for them.
Yes, my thinking had gone somewhat squiffy. I had gone too far down the line of being sacrificial and self-flagellating.
This is probably because I didn't take to full-time mothering like a rubber ducky to bath water. I might even go so far as to say I hated it at first. Not hard to understand why; two children screaming at me all the time, rejecting everything I did for them, even as they cried for me. But it was more than that. Being a housewife means being responsible for a lot of menial tasks. My mum loved ironing, mopping floors and hoovering. I don't. Yet suddenly all that was the main focus of my day. That and supermarket shopping. I'd gone from doing an important, high-profile well-paid job, communicating with the high offices of this country, to seeing nobody and doing nothing but cleaning, food shopping, and being an emotional punch bag to two very disagreeable house guests.
How I didn't become depressed, I'll never know!
I just know that I made myself be a good housewife and mother through gritted teeth. It took me a whole year to get anywhere near as good at it as I needed to be. It is the most difficult thing I have ever undertaken. All I wanted, during that time, was to go back to work. To not have to shoulder the responsibility of this family all the time. And yet, me being there was what the children needed. I would have been a shitty mother had I have worked because I don't have a lot of energy and the children needed so much from me those first few months. And being able to volunteer in their school, accompany my children's classes on trips, attend special assemblies, and be there when they were sick - it has all been invaluable to this family. I did the right thing.
But when you start to look at other women and feel jealous that they have a career they enjoy, when it's all you can think about and it becomes an obsession? Well, That's when you know you need to have a rethink.
So I've come up with a plan. Literally, a business plan. I'm going to start my own business, working from home*. That way I can still fit my hours around the kids, but I can also shift the focus of my days beyond housework, to something more personally rewarding. I don't think I'd be any happier getting some crappy part-time admin job, which is the alternative, but I think I can be happy doing this.
I think. We never really know do we? Until we try? If the business falls flat on its face I can always go back watching Jeremy Kyle and playing online Bingo all day**. But I am hoping it will get me thinking straight again. It's low financial risk, so not much harm done if it doesn't.
Funny, isn't it? This is a massive thing for every woman who has children and yet it has felt like a very personal battle. Am I disrespecting, even harming, my children and family by channeling some of my attention elsewhere? Am I disrespecting, even harming, myself by focusing so much on my family and children? The answer will be different in every family, the balance found in a different place. But answer and balance there must be, whether the children have been adopted or no.
*Sorry to be so vague. Can't write anything too identifying!**That's what everyone who's not a parent thinks that full-time mothers do all day. I've learnt there is no point in arguing as they will just carry on believing what they want anyway. Sad, isn't it?
Labels: Adoption, Children, Thats Life
0 comment Monday, June 9, 2014 | admin
It struck me today that since October I have been carrying extra duties, beginning with Halloween activities and half-term, then onto Son's birthday and then straight into Christmas. I wish I had more space at this time of year to buy nicer decorations and make cakes and puddings, but despite my best intentions, I don't. I'd have to start Christmas preparations in October, but, as noted, I am already busy.
And this year I've had the added duty of my new business, but it's been nothing but a pleasure so far. I am really chuffed with how it is going and it brings me a lot of satisfaction. I have one job to attend to through until Boxing Day, but then nothing until my next customer in January. I hope I get really busy in 2012.
As Husband takes care of the food over Christmas, as of tonight my work for Christmas Day is now done. Cards, presents, wrapping, visits, laundry, housework. Done.
For me, all there is left to do is try and live in the moment and enjoy my family.
When I was child-free Christmas was a painful time. It was always maybe this time next year... maybe this time next year... maybe this time next year...
Christmas is not always easy for adoptive families, but at least that stressful and burdensome question of who my family will be is answered now and forever. For the children too.
Let it be.
Merry Christmas one and all x
And this year I've had the added duty of my new business, but it's been nothing but a pleasure so far. I am really chuffed with how it is going and it brings me a lot of satisfaction. I have one job to attend to through until Boxing Day, but then nothing until my next customer in January. I hope I get really busy in 2012.
As Husband takes care of the food over Christmas, as of tonight my work for Christmas Day is now done. Cards, presents, wrapping, visits, laundry, housework. Done.
For me, all there is left to do is try and live in the moment and enjoy my family.
When I was child-free Christmas was a painful time. It was always maybe this time next year... maybe this time next year... maybe this time next year...
Christmas is not always easy for adoptive families, but at least that stressful and burdensome question of who my family will be is answered now and forever. For the children too.
Let it be.
Merry Christmas one and all x
Labels: Adoption, Children, Motherhood, Thats Life
0 comment Sunday, June 8, 2014 | admin
It took us a few days to get the content and tone right, but last night we finally sent off an e-mail to the Director of Children's Services of our local authority saying that we were withdrawing our Son from CAMHS and exactly why.
I got a reply from her early this morning saying that she was "very concerned" at the points we made and that she would see that they were addressed. She expressed disappointment in the service that LAC CAMHS provided to us and that we felt forced to secure suitable therapy elsewhere. She agreed, as requested, to ensure that the Psychologist and Social Worker we were seeing would be made aware that we no longer required their services.
I do so hope that those two people who attempted to do a complete hatchet job on my family didn't have a shitty day at work defending themselves to higher management. That would just kill me.
I got a reply from her early this morning saying that she was "very concerned" at the points we made and that she would see that they were addressed. She expressed disappointment in the service that LAC CAMHS provided to us and that we felt forced to secure suitable therapy elsewhere. She agreed, as requested, to ensure that the Psychologist and Social Worker we were seeing would be made aware that we no longer required their services.
I do so hope that those two people who attempted to do a complete hatchet job on my family didn't have a shitty day at work defending themselves to higher management. That would just kill me.
Labels: Adoption, CAMHS, Thats Life
0 comment Wednesday, April 16, 2014 | admin
Went on another course last Wednesday, again run by Louise Sydney, psychotherapist and specialist adoption consultant, and I do dig his stuff.
One thing I wanted to put down in writing was his suggestion for keeping stress levels down, because then I might actually remember to do it.
He suggests a meditative/reflective five minutes to help keep us in a 'good place'. Five minutes of doing nothing but watching your thoughts, mentally checking your body over, and listening to the sounds all around. No distractions like books, or TV, or having fantasy arguments with people in your head (a favourite pastime of mine). No having a snooze. No planning the next days activities. Just you being with yourself, checking how you are. Louis said something about it fusing the left and right thinking parts of the brain, and husband, who used to study tai chi, says that such meditations do actually alter your alpha and beta brain waves.
I've tried doing it whilst in the shower or cleaning my teeth, but I felt nothing. You have to just sit somewhere, I think, and give yourself the full focus of your own attention. Imagine that!
I'm not much into airy fairy hippy stuff, but the fact that there might be some science behind this encourages me. I really want to find a way to deal with the negative stuff that keeps popping into my head and surely even I can find five minutes twice a day to be still.
We'll see!
One thing I wanted to put down in writing was his suggestion for keeping stress levels down, because then I might actually remember to do it.
He suggests a meditative/reflective five minutes to help keep us in a 'good place'. Five minutes of doing nothing but watching your thoughts, mentally checking your body over, and listening to the sounds all around. No distractions like books, or TV, or having fantasy arguments with people in your head (a favourite pastime of mine). No having a snooze. No planning the next days activities. Just you being with yourself, checking how you are. Louis said something about it fusing the left and right thinking parts of the brain, and husband, who used to study tai chi, says that such meditations do actually alter your alpha and beta brain waves.
I've tried doing it whilst in the shower or cleaning my teeth, but I felt nothing. You have to just sit somewhere, I think, and give yourself the full focus of your own attention. Imagine that!
I'm not much into airy fairy hippy stuff, but the fact that there might be some science behind this encourages me. I really want to find a way to deal with the negative stuff that keeps popping into my head and surely even I can find five minutes twice a day to be still.
We'll see!
Labels: Adoption, Thats Life
0 comment Saturday, April 5, 2014 | admin
I'm suffering from end-of-holiday irritableitus. Again.
School holidays are always a day or three too long. If they just left school on the Friday and went back on a Monday I swear it wouldn't be so bad. But there always seem to be an excuse for an early break-up and then those bloody teacher 'training days' delaying the return. Ours don't go back until tomorrow (Weds) but they were ready to go back on Monday (Yes, I know it was a Bank Holiday, but even so).
I thought this week would be easier on account of Husband being off work on holiday. I was even looking forward to it. Kids go back tomorrow giving us three days alone together.
But, of course, he's friggin ill. He's been ill nearly all holiday. It's nearly 11am as I type and he's still in bed. Great. I was up and out the house before 9am to do a business job, came back 10.30am soaked to the skin and the kids had only just got up. He might as well not be here.
Daughter's got a grazed knee and she's milking it for all it's worth at the moment. This morning she got her brother to make her breakfast for her because of it. This was happening as I got home, so I wet a tissue with warm water and came to bathe the graze to soften it up a little. Naturally, this caused Daughter to start screaming. I could understand a flinch or something, but a soft tissue, warmed with water really shouldn't equate with the pain of having finger nails pulled off with plyers. Not in my book, anyway.
I told her to stop screaming because she was scaring her brother (he was edging away down the settee away from her, his face contorted as if he was witnessing a scene of torture) but scream away she did.
She's sitting over yonder now with a glob of vaseline on it. Yesterday we went over to a friend's house and she refused to wear anything but a summer shift dress and her knickers because of her knee. No socks, trousers, long skirt, jumper, fleece, and no, not even a plaster was allowed to grace her body. No, just a summer shift dress, despite it being the middle of December. Presumably, this is lest any material on her arms rubbed against her knee, or maybe she was worried her socks would escape from her feet and crawl up her leg. Or perhaps she just wanted to draw attention to a graze on her knee and get lots and lots of attention. Who knows. I wonder what 'special conditions' her knee will continue to dictate today.
Son is in a mood with me. I got out the laptop and made it plain that I was buying some waterproof trousers for myself. Even so, he got very excited and started chatting away about the Skylander figures I could buy him online. Nope. I said. And reiterated I was buying something for me and then using the computer for my own entertainment. Radical, I know, that a mother might want to do something for herself, cruel maybe to leave her children to their own devices, wrapped in blankets, warm and well fed, watching TV, but That's the type of cowbag mother I am.
Any minute now he'll be getting out his attention-seeking cough... and there we go! Before I even finish the sentence, out comes his annoying cough.
Children, with these psychosomatic disorders you are really spoiling us!
But of course, as irritating as my children's little ways can be, the real reason I am especially irritable this morning is Husband. During school holidays 90% of the time I am effectively a single parent because his stupid Dickensian company make it very difficult for him to take time off full-stop, never mind take time off during useful times like school holidays. This was one holiday we were supposed to share. And he's in bed friggin ill. With a cold That's given him toothache, of all things. And rather than take my super-duper Syndol tablets, which, along with Ibuprofen, would zap his discomfort and make him a functional family man, he prefers to friggin take crappy paracetamol and lie around moaning in the manner of a heroin in a Victorian novel.
I just fought one of my tension headaches for 3 days and had to walk around like a zombie dosed up on morphine just so that I could get things done, but Husband? Pah! Well he can just lie in bed and leave it all to someone else. What must that be like.
Sympathy in short supply. For anybody. All day.
ps nearly 12 noon and Husband still in bed. Am. Not. Moving. From. Computer. Till. He. Gets. Up.
pps Husband now up and seems much better. He's lovely, really.
School holidays are always a day or three too long. If they just left school on the Friday and went back on a Monday I swear it wouldn't be so bad. But there always seem to be an excuse for an early break-up and then those bloody teacher 'training days' delaying the return. Ours don't go back until tomorrow (Weds) but they were ready to go back on Monday (Yes, I know it was a Bank Holiday, but even so).
I thought this week would be easier on account of Husband being off work on holiday. I was even looking forward to it. Kids go back tomorrow giving us three days alone together.
But, of course, he's friggin ill. He's been ill nearly all holiday. It's nearly 11am as I type and he's still in bed. Great. I was up and out the house before 9am to do a business job, came back 10.30am soaked to the skin and the kids had only just got up. He might as well not be here.
Daughter's got a grazed knee and she's milking it for all it's worth at the moment. This morning she got her brother to make her breakfast for her because of it. This was happening as I got home, so I wet a tissue with warm water and came to bathe the graze to soften it up a little. Naturally, this caused Daughter to start screaming. I could understand a flinch or something, but a soft tissue, warmed with water really shouldn't equate with the pain of having finger nails pulled off with plyers. Not in my book, anyway.
I told her to stop screaming because she was scaring her brother (he was edging away down the settee away from her, his face contorted as if he was witnessing a scene of torture) but scream away she did.
She's sitting over yonder now with a glob of vaseline on it. Yesterday we went over to a friend's house and she refused to wear anything but a summer shift dress and her knickers because of her knee. No socks, trousers, long skirt, jumper, fleece, and no, not even a plaster was allowed to grace her body. No, just a summer shift dress, despite it being the middle of December. Presumably, this is lest any material on her arms rubbed against her knee, or maybe she was worried her socks would escape from her feet and crawl up her leg. Or perhaps she just wanted to draw attention to a graze on her knee and get lots and lots of attention. Who knows. I wonder what 'special conditions' her knee will continue to dictate today.
Son is in a mood with me. I got out the laptop and made it plain that I was buying some waterproof trousers for myself. Even so, he got very excited and started chatting away about the Skylander figures I could buy him online. Nope. I said. And reiterated I was buying something for me and then using the computer for my own entertainment. Radical, I know, that a mother might want to do something for herself, cruel maybe to leave her children to their own devices, wrapped in blankets, warm and well fed, watching TV, but That's the type of cowbag mother I am.
Any minute now he'll be getting out his attention-seeking cough... and there we go! Before I even finish the sentence, out comes his annoying cough.
Children, with these psychosomatic disorders you are really spoiling us!
But of course, as irritating as my children's little ways can be, the real reason I am especially irritable this morning is Husband. During school holidays 90% of the time I am effectively a single parent because his stupid Dickensian company make it very difficult for him to take time off full-stop, never mind take time off during useful times like school holidays. This was one holiday we were supposed to share. And he's in bed friggin ill. With a cold That's given him toothache, of all things. And rather than take my super-duper Syndol tablets, which, along with Ibuprofen, would zap his discomfort and make him a functional family man, he prefers to friggin take crappy paracetamol and lie around moaning in the manner of a heroin in a Victorian novel.
I just fought one of my tension headaches for 3 days and had to walk around like a zombie dosed up on morphine just so that I could get things done, but Husband? Pah! Well he can just lie in bed and leave it all to someone else. What must that be like.
Sympathy in short supply. For anybody. All day.
ps nearly 12 noon and Husband still in bed. Am. Not. Moving. From. Computer. Till. He. Gets. Up.
pps Husband now up and seems much better. He's lovely, really.
Labels: Children, School, Thats Life
0 comment Sunday, March 30, 2014 | admin
Last week of the school term before Christmas EQUALS stress on a bike.
The kids are harassed by their excitement levels and unsettled by the changes in school routine, whilst I have been madly trying to get 'everything done' before they break up. I have proven this week that I still have the most brilliant organisational skills, with days in my diary being organised by the hour and a tight schedule completely honoured. And through it all the family have been fed and watered, the house kept within acceptable cleanliness limits, the pets well cared for, and my business duties completed. And I still had time to get my nails and eyebrows done for a night out. I'm every woman, I sing, it's all in me.
I even scheduled in the kids trauma leaking. Between the hours of 3.30pm and 5pm deal with highly combustible children who will stab each other in the eye in as soon as look at each other. Between the hours of 7pm and 8pm, deal with rudeness and nasty words from Son.
Anything you want done baby, I'll do it naturally.
Last night - Friday night - I had the pleasure of attending a Murder Mystery meal with four other great women whom I have the honour to call my friends. We didn't solve the murder, but we did have a night off from all of out troubles. I'm not sentimental, as you'll know reader, but I will say that I felt blessed last night. Better friends a woman couldn't hope to have.
Next week, I am, for the first time, juggling childcare with working and so another stage of my life begins because I haven't ever had to do that before.
After that, all I have to do is dare to enjoy Christmas.
The kids are harassed by their excitement levels and unsettled by the changes in school routine, whilst I have been madly trying to get 'everything done' before they break up. I have proven this week that I still have the most brilliant organisational skills, with days in my diary being organised by the hour and a tight schedule completely honoured. And through it all the family have been fed and watered, the house kept within acceptable cleanliness limits, the pets well cared for, and my business duties completed. And I still had time to get my nails and eyebrows done for a night out. I'm every woman, I sing, it's all in me.
I even scheduled in the kids trauma leaking. Between the hours of 3.30pm and 5pm deal with highly combustible children who will stab each other in the eye in as soon as look at each other. Between the hours of 7pm and 8pm, deal with rudeness and nasty words from Son.
Anything you want done baby, I'll do it naturally.
Last night - Friday night - I had the pleasure of attending a Murder Mystery meal with four other great women whom I have the honour to call my friends. We didn't solve the murder, but we did have a night off from all of out troubles. I'm not sentimental, as you'll know reader, but I will say that I felt blessed last night. Better friends a woman couldn't hope to have.
Next week, I am, for the first time, juggling childcare with working and so another stage of my life begins because I haven't ever had to do that before.
After that, all I have to do is dare to enjoy Christmas.
Labels: Adoption, Friends And Family, Thats Life