I’m low on motivation to blog and low on motivation to do lots of good things with my children at home.  We’re very busy most days, but our at home on our own days are getting more and more boring and frustrating (and also more frequent and longer due to Dh’s changing working hours coming up to Christmas).  Maybe I’m suffering from SAD.  Some friends and I have set up our own HE group and we have our third session on Wednesday, which I’m looking forward to.  We were out this morning, but a friend who had planned to come this afternoon can’t anymore as her son is still unwell so we are trying to amuse ourselves.  We sometimes go to collect Dh from work as that shortens our day a bit.  Yesterday (yes, my Dh works all weekend sometimes ), we watched loads of tv but also did quite a lot of other small things - some experiments of the week; pouring water; pouring rice; tracing letters in a tray of rice; playing with the train track (quickly while Cotton-tail was asleep!); pushing eachother around in boxes - but none of them really took up very much time at all and before long they were clamouring for the tv to go on again.  I don’t mind them watching tv, except that I find it soooooooo boring myself!  And Mopsy gets frustrated when she watches a lot of it - she starts fidgeting and hitting Flopsy. 

After we came home from our toddler group, we had lunch while the tv was on.  Then they watched Doodle Do which reminded them of the tissue-paper watercolours they do sometimes (which they learnt about from a different episode of Doodle Do than the one they watched today).  So we did the tissue paper water colours but unfortunately I gave them tissue paper which, for some reason, doesn’t bleed its ink, so that didn’t work as well as it has done in the past.  It didn’t seem to bother them - they just enjoyed the process.  While they did that, I painted some papier-mache heads they made ages ago with Dh while I was laid up in bed with a bad back.  They’ve been sitting on the table annoying me for nearly two weeks now, so I felt I had to do something with them!  When the pink paint’s dry (they’re going to look rather sunburnt), I’ll see if they want to draw faces on them and stick on some wool hair. 

Then they decided they wanted to go outside.  Flopsy put her shoes on but Mopsy had previously removed her tights so decided to go oustide barefoot despite the freezing cold!  They wanted to hunt for worms with spades but were too scared (?) to go inside their play house to get spades.  I was too grumpy to help them but reluctantly agreed to go and pick out some from the rain-filled sand-pit for them and then came back inside.  Apparently these weren’t good enough and Flopsy stomped back in again, followed by Mopsy a bit later on. 

Flopsy watched me play a Kakuro puzzle online while Mopsy washed her hands, and now they’re playing some imaginative game.  I can hear them in the room next door and they’re playing really nicely (I wonder how long that will last?).  Someone’s called Flip-flop and the game involves pretend beds - a common theme in their games.  I can occassionally hear a shriek of frustration from Cotton-tail who is at an age already where she wants to be able to do everything and is very annoyed she can’t.  She spent an age trying to hold two pens in one hand earlier on - I remember Flopsy and Mopsy wanting to learn that too at some point.

I’m feeling desperately tired for some reason.  I slept well last night so I really don’t know why I’m so exhausted.  Must be suffering from SAD!  I know I’m not pregnant for many reasons but the most chief of those is that I don’t feel sick - there’s no way I’d manage to be pregnant and not at least feel sick, if not actually be puking! 

I’m a bit fed up that we don’t live in the country-side with a big garden with place to explore.

Ok, I can hear the play has turned  a little sour.  They’re over-involving little Cotton-tail - Mopsy seems to think she can play horses with her.  Must go and save her. 

I don’t do very much in the way of journal-type blogging but suddenly feel an urge to, so here goes!

This morning we went to our NCT toddler group.  It’s held in a children’s centre and a lot of my non-HE friends go there with their children who our children get on very well with so we all look forward to it.  The first part of this morning was very hellish indeed, though.  I have this totally irrational need for the girls to both get dressed first thing in the morning.  It’s partly because leaving anywhere, including our home, with three young children is hard work, but having one or more to dress first as well just makes it a nightmare, so if they’re all dressed before we start the day, then that’s less stress for me when it comes time to leave the house.  Mopsy, however, has recently decided that she doesn’t want to get dressed in the mornings and that she would rather stay in her nightclothes all day.  This is really, really stressing me out.  It’s fine on the days that we have no morning appointments because we can just stay upstairs playing and find a way to make a game out of getting dressed.  Those mornings go very pleasantly.  But when we have morning plans and I don’t have enough time to faff around with creative ways of dressing stubborn toddlers everything just goes to pot.  And stubborn really is the best way to describe her.  When she decides she doesn’t want to do something, she just will not do it, and she’ll refuse to do everything else I suggest to boot, just because I’ve suggested it!  She really cuts off her nose to spite her face, suddenly deciding she doesn’t want to go to the toddler group or to do whatever else she’s been very excited about doing. 

What I *should* have done is just collected together Mopsy’s clothes and taken them with us in the car, in the hope she’ll at least get dressed when we get there and, if she didn’t, just gritted my teeth against any strange looks at my be-nightied toddler (which was DH’s sensible and rational suggestion when I rang him in hysterical tears).  However, what I did instead was to get crosser and crosser until I ended up physically forcing her into her clothes in an absolute rage that her stubbornness would mean that all of us would be late to, or even absent from, something that *all* of the rest of us wanted to go to (including her).  She was crying, I was crying and Flopsy was running around being all sweetness and light as siblings are wont to be when one of them is messing around.  Then Cotton-tail did a poo in her nice clean nappy and spilt chocolate milkshake all over her clean clothes.  And Mopsy kept defiantly taking her left sock off.  And I ended up lying on the floor wailing and despairing at her stubbornness and defiance but mostly at my own completely crap and shit and terrible handling of the situation so that it spiralled so out of control that I behaved in a way that I feel is one of the crappest way of parenting.  Bizarrely she was more than happy for me to put her shoes on, just not her clothes. 

We got out in the end and I drove to the group crying and wondering how on earth I was going to compose myself before I got there.  I managed to look not too blotchy-faced when we got in but one of my friends said ‘Hi Clare, how are you?’.  ‘Not very good this morning’ I replied and burst into tears.  My friends were wonderful and helpful, despite not really subscribing to the non-coercive way I *try* to parent so not really understanding why I was beating myself up so much.  One reminded me how I’d described how I’d had to get through a couple of weeks of non-stop tv when I first stopped limiting it, until they started to self-regulate it, and suggested I just let Mopsy wear what she wanted and grit my teeth about the irritation it causes in me in the hope she’ll get it out of her system.  I think I’m going to have to do this, and just keep my fingers crossed that I don’t get too many strange looks.  

What made me also furious, though, was myself.  The fact that I was putting social norms above the needs of my child.  I was being awful to my baby just to make her conform!  What is the matter with me???  I’m the queen of not-conforming!  Why do I have such a bloody block over this getting dressed thing!  What is the worst thing that will happen if she goes out in her nightie?  She’ll get odd looks, and she’ll get cold.  So I ignore the looks and feel proud of my self-assured little girl; and I take spare clothes and warm over-clothes for her to wear when she gets cold.  I *know* all this in my head, but I have such a problem putting it into practice.  I need to write myself some posters to put up round the house reminding me not to be such a control freak and to stop seriously not taking my children seriously!

Anyway, moving on from this rather miserable start, once I stopped crying at the toddler group, I really started to enjoy it and the girls were happy the minute I got them in the car to go there, so they were fine.  After the toddler group, we drove home and rang my very good (HE) friend (who we had planned to visit that afternoon) to ask if we had agreed to eat lunch with her and if not, to say we’d be late as we hadn’t yet eaten.  She said she’d happily feed us, so I gathered up wellies in case we went to the park, and we drove off again to her house.  Another good friend (also HE) was going to join us there too with her children.  The afternoon was lovely.  Sometimes when we visit this friend, our youngest three children rub eachother up the wrong way, but having the extra children there kind of diluted the atmosphere a bit so it was much calmer.  And the extra adult made a difference in terms of protecting Cotton-tail.  My friend reads this blog so I have to be nice about her.  Ha ha, only joking, K.  Honestly, we love meeting up with this friend, and happily our children mostly get on really well too.  It’s only that on occassion the younger ones clash because they haven’t yet gained the ability to not lash out when they lose their temper.  Myself and the other vistor took some of the children to the playground at one point, while our host made cakes with Mopsy and her two youngest - Flopsy watched the tv (very sociable!).  Then when we got back it was time to leave and we came home.

When we got in, I checked my emails while Flopsy and Mopsy played some very inventive game which involved making it all dark in the living room, and pretending to go to bed.  But they also had to jump of sofas, or something, and Mopsy hurt herself at one point.  Then Mopsy saw an empty tray similar to the ones we keep the playdough in and asked to get the playdough out.  I told her that Flopsy knew where it was and to ask her if she’d do it, which she was more than happy to do.  And DH came home to both girls playing happily with playdough, making ‘ice-cream’, and Cotton-tail crawling round the floor screeching as she is wont to do.  I’ve done an hour’s shift on the breastfeeding helpline, and we’ve had supper, and the girls are watching Bedknobs and Broomsticks.  I wonder when they’ll go to bed…

Two big things have happened in our family.  Mopsy has weaned, with very little encouragement from me.  And Cotton-tail is walking!  At 9 3/4 months!  What is going on???  She’s very wobbly, and looks very drunk, taking one step and then waiting to balance, then another one, then plopping down on her cloth-nappied bottom.  Feels a bit less pleasant when nappy-free but doesn’t seem to bother her.  She’s very cute, particularly as she’s so small to be walking!

The HV wants to visit on Monday to see Cotton-tail for her 9m check.  It would actually be the first time she’s seen one in her entire life.  The note I got said ‘please ring to confirm’, which I haven’t done so we’ll see if she turns up!  I kind of felt I didn’t want to stir up trouble by actively refusing to see her, but also didn’t want to be saying ‘yes, please do come and pass judgement on my mothering skills!’.  The things I want to decide about before then are:

1. Whether or not to send Flopsy elsewhere:  At the moment, we appear to be totally unknown to our LA.  I’m very happy about that as our LA seem to be rather nosy and attempt to practice outside of their legal requirements.  On the other hand, I don’t want to draw attention to ourselves as actively ‘hiding’ from them.  If Flopsy’s there, I’m wondering if the HV will ask when she’s starting school.  If I answer truthfully, will the HV be sympathetic or will she insist on letting the LA know about her.  Does it matter if the LA know?  I’m lucky in that our children are very bright and I certainly wouldn’t need to do anything to ‘prove’ they’re receiving an education.  The walls of our house are covered in pictures and paintings by them - pretty advanced in some cases.  Our house is full of obviously well-loved children’s books - fiction and reference.  It’s very clear the computer is used by them and they’re both articulate, friendly girls.  So it’s unlikely I’d have any trouble from them…we might even go some way to proving the worth of an autonomous lifestyle to a cynical HE inspector.  On the other hand, if we did have a home visit and the inspector started trying to ‘test’ Flopsy, I know it could put her right off learning.  But then it’s very easy to explain to Flopsy why things are happening so I’m sure she’d understand and try to ignore it.  Or the HV may not even comment on Flopsy being at home; or she may do and may have no problem at all with it.  Maybe I’m worrying about nothing.  I just like to have plans, that’s all.

2. Whether or not to have Cotton-tail weighed and/or measured.  With Flopsy and Mopsy I’ve had trouble with their size in one way or another.  I got told off at Flopsy’s 9m check for not giving her enough solids because she didn’t weigh enough.  The stupid HV didn’t even look at her, just at her weight chart!  I came away feeling very much like a crap mother despite knowing what I knew about bfing and about my daughter’s health.  Then they made a fuss about Mopsy’s 9m head circumference even though there was quite clearly an error when it was measured at 6w.  It was small at birth; large at 6w; and small at 9m again.  They wanted to measure it again a month later - I refused because of the upset I’d had with Flopsy and I just knew there was nothing wrong at all with Mopsy.  So…do I invite trouble by having her weighed/measured even though there is no need to do so?  She’s so advanced - walking with a trolley; standing alone for a few seconds; eating; growing; healthy; lovely - do I really need a HV to tell me she’s thriving?  Or will refusing to have her weighed at all put a black mark against my name?

3. Whether or not to just go with whatever she wants and wax lyrical about bringing up children autonomously in an attempt to broaden her mind (assuming it’s narrow to begin with, of course!).

Oh well, she may not come at all and all this worrying will be for nothing!  There are a few HVs in my area that I *wish* were mine, but they’re not.  And I don’t know what my current one is like.  I’ll keep you posted.

Today I took photos for a ‘this is what we did today’ post, but when I uploaded them, realised that there were loads of other such similar photos that I’d never blogged.  So here they are!  It looks a bit like ‘look what a wonderful Mummy I am for doing so many activities with my children’ but it really is over a period of time and I’m not about to start taking photos of the times I’m not being such a good Mummy LOL!

Blow-painting, as inspired by Doodle Do (as is a lot of the craft stuff we do - it’s our favourite programme):

Cotton-tail’s first food:

Baking (oh, I am so motherly  ):

This is the girls doing footprint painting a while ago.  It was good fun and I can’t believe I managed to contain the mess, but somehow I did!  The results are on our living room wall :

Jumping for joy at the excitement of being allowed to do something they’d been going on at me about for ever!  (Oh yes, and in pyjamas as well - I think we were having a pyjama day that day)

My preparations for cleaning feet afterwards

Contemplating the paint!

And this is the tea party I discovered them having after I cleaned the kitchen up

Sorry to brag, but my children are seriously gorgeous!  I shall keep the link to this post handy and look at it every time they’re driving me potty to remind me why I love them