Looking back Looking forward

We spent the afternoon at a local lake. We were there with our two children, their friends, our old dog and another who is staying with us whilst her 'Mum & Dad' are on holiday.

The lake is beautiful with hummocks surrounding it, ducks and swans on it and play areas and a river around it.

Today we arrived to find it was an Activities Day for children. The whole place was overwhelmed by small people and their Mums and Dads, Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles and dogs and ice cream vans and tents and stilt walkers. Amongst this bustling throng were marquees with Arts workshops: tie-dyeing, face painting, raft making, wheelie bin drumming, withie making, giant paintings, sculpture, pendants etc etc.

The quality of the instruction and the enthusiasm of the artists was wonderful and there were so many happy faces: proud children, proud parents, little boats held aloft, clay sculptures carefully carried back to cars.....

I saw all this and at first my heart sank. It always does when I see these sorts of events because its what I used to do, who I used to be. I started by running arts workshops, then organising small events, bigger events, Countywide events and training artists in how to facilitate workshops. I was good at it. I had all the right contacts, good ideas, unusual ideas. I could plan a good day or series of days and enthuse and surprise people.

When I became too ill to work I tried to go back to workshopping once or twice. It was disaster. It takes tremendous energy to organise and deliver a workshop...to galvanise people to tap into their creativity, support them, help them move forward ---quite apart from the logistics of travel, organization, packing up materials, putting them back etc etc. I just couldn't do it anymore.

Gradually my contact with that world evaporated...I was ill at home, 'friends' didn't call anymore, busy with their own lives. If we went to something like a fete or a school fayre I was suddenly brought up close to that world and all I felt was a huge sense of loss and sadness....like staring at a vast hole. I still did bits and pieces when the children were younger even though I felt so rough. I designed and painted all the scenery for the Xmas plays for 5 years, did publicity and posters and flyers, did face painting for school and church fetes in the summer. I enjoyed it too but it wasn't the same..wasn't at the same level and there wasn't the same camaraderie you get between artists who do it regularly and are working the same circuit.

Yesterday was different. At first my heart sank and then something else happened because I realised that world I had pined for was over for me. It was a part of my past : 'been there, done that, got the T shirt' as the saying goes.

The workshops were primarily for little children up to about 8 years of age. Our children are 12 and 15. The parents were right in there with their kids...helping to paint and decorate and embellish, reassuring, instructing explaining and it was suddenly like watching myself long ago. I've already done all that: my children don't need that level of support anymore and although its lovely to watch Ifeel like a bystander ...but in a good way because I've done that bit of my role as a parent in the same way I don't have to walk around with a spare nappie (diaper) and babywipes in my bag anymore in case someone has an 'accident'.

I can move on and be someone else, do something else. We're all moving forward and it feels good

Shadows and glimpses

We went away this weekend: the first time I’ve managed to travel that far ( a WHOLE 40 miles !!!) since the summer before last. It was great. Not without its difficulties ….because for someone with chemical sensitivities, staying in any accommodation is risky --- and this time the perfumed washing powder used to wash the duvet covers got to me big time, ---- but, nevertheless, it was lovely to go for some peace away from the builders and the everyday grind.

And today there is more peace because we have a 9 hour power cut in the village for ‘essential maintenance work’ so there is no phone, no heat, no internet. No one using their electric mower, no builders with their radio on all the time and no TV. Even in the countryside it is noisy these days and round these parts, my dearios, many people are retired and at home all day and they are hobbyists --- usually men and usually men who like machines: lawnmowers, tractors, , hedge trimmers, lathes, woodturning etc etc and they all make a noise: and you thought that Cusp Villa was situated in an ocean of solitude and quiet in the Suffolk countryside ----Hah !

Our weekend retreat was near to relatives’ homes. We visited this couple on the way back. One is a musician, the other a textile artist. I have known one of them longer than my own partner…nearly 30 years.

They have two children, like us, and a much more bohemian attitude to life than us: they’re not concerned about a tidy(ish) house, not concerned about set mealtimes. They’re concerned about their art and getting stuff done. The house is unconventional, chaotic and happy. They are not without their own health problems.

I wonder how their lives seem so different to ours.

What is it about me that prevents me from staying with my creativity? What is it that makes me put my all into the children, the house and trying to stay above the waterline with my health ? Why is it that this other couple are still relatively close to who they were 25 or even 30 years ago and I have drifted so far away from who I was all that time ago.

Some of it is sense of self and sense of responsibility.

They are both caring parents and caring individuals who will and have been there for other people in the family when needed…..but they still maintained their identity and their practice. I, on the other hand, have a much lesser sense of self, much lesser confidence in my ability to be creative than them…even though I know this is wrong of me. My identity is bound up in being the rescuer, the helper, the aid. Theirs is bound up in being creative. Their own children call them by their Christian names rather than Mum & Dad. Our children only do so as a joke: I am very much the parent. I am not seen as an artist or anything else other than a parent or as someone who’s not very well. That saddens me.

My sense of responsibility is huge, overwhelming. This may be a legacy of being an only child…and the only child of a parent who was often unwell and another parent who worked with disabled people and spent their life giving and encouraging.

If there is a choice between my creativity and the needs of my children --- even if that need is relatively insignificant (‘….will you help me put on my socks…’) I will go to them and put myself aside.

It is true that having a disabled child puts greater stress on one’s need to be there as a parent (the child who needs help with socks is 15….he can’t bend down that far and socks are difficult to put on at the best of times…never mind zips, buttons etc which are an impossibility) but even so, why do I put everything on hold for them ?

Am I too giving, too saintly [NOT !!! ;o) ] or am I just scared to put myself first and take the leap back to being an individual adult whose creativity matters ? Is helping with socks the easy option ?

In my last post I spoke about living on the cusp, on the edge. That holds still. I do live on the cusp because of my health, but, after that visit this weekend I am beginning to feel that there is something else going on that prevents me from being true to myself.

Maybe it is the natural order of things: that you give as much as possible to children when they are little and incapable of so much and then gradually they learn and become independent and begin to fly the nest, fly further, need you less …..and this point is during a period of adjustment: me adjusting to my children’s’ increasing independence and lack of need for me.

And if that is so, what does that mean for me ? Who am I ? What shall I do ?

When I first became so unwell that I could no longer go to work, there was a part of me that thought

‘Right, well, however ill I am, at least I’m here and I shall do whatever I can, when I can, for the children because they are the most important thing (at this point they were only 2 and 5 years old) and the rest (i.e. an career plans, creativity ) can go hang because I can’t do it all now like I used to (and boy did I do it all !!!) and so I must set priorities…and they are number one.’

Now I’m not so sure that holds true any more…even for my son who is more able and independent, despite everything. Maybe it’s time to try again and move out into the world no matter how unwell I might feel at times.

Maybe those shadows I keep sensing, maybe those glimpses of something else are beckoning….but it’s a very scary place to be.

Wot I dun on my 'oleedays

Here I am again ! Cooeeeeee! Over here..the one with the slightly askew demeanour and slightly careworn appearance. That's what a 7 week school holiday break can do for you. Yes that is correct dear reader: I did say SEVEN weeks. Much as I love my children, seven weeks is a long time to fill and seems longer when you're not particularly chipper. There were ups and there were downs and at times it was a real struggle but I'm still here and ready for another day.

We made cakes, we decorated furniture, we went to fetes, we helped at fetes, we bought a lovely swing seat and we avoided, cursed and annihilated a lot of wasps (what good are they ?? ..hateful beasts). I managed to make it to two of the four wedding receptions to which we were invited and we had friends round for Sunday lunch.

I also cursed this wretched illness, cried and swore because I couldn't do many of the other things I longed to do with the children and never made it to the seaside which is only 15 miles away.

I did manage to get to the doctors to verify that I am not diabetic (though it is borderline), got my eyes tested and had a crown fall off whilst chewing a vitamin --- s*d's law ! These might seem small things to many people but they were on a list of things to do and at least I achieved them. You have to look at the positives.

And now we're back to the old routine with children at school, partner at work some days and me trying hard not to give into feelings of ill health and unsteadiness so that I can do the things that need doing and do some things which bring pleasure.

I've realised that since the relapse at the beginning of the year I have taken quite a downturn and lost confidence. Some of the feelings of ill health are in fact feelings of anxiety: fear of what will happen when I try to do something simple like going to buy a pint of milk at our local store (a five minute drive). These are not panic attacks but simple fear about what will happen based on other real incidents when I've felt genuinely faint or sick or giddy. I have to overcome these feelings or I shall sink further into the mire. I just can't do that.

My doctor is still pushing me to take the anti-depressants. I still hesitate. I have been trying everything I can to avoid taking them: will power, herbal stuff, EFT, positive affirmations, homeopathy. I am doing more and I am winning but it's a real struggle and I sense that I am weaker than I was before the relapse but I will not be beaten.

There have been other aspects of self-discovery but that will have to wait for another post.

For now I battle on and I'm trying to re-establish some kind of routine so I am more involved with the day-to-day e.g I had had to give up collecting my daughter from school but now I go however I feel. I'm hoping that gradually I shall get back to where I was a year ago. That wasn't exactly Olympian athlete standard (ha! ha! ) but I was more out in the world and less fearful of how I'd be from day to day because there was more constancy.

The past few months have been more of a roller coaster; having no idea how I'll be from day to day or even within a day. I have to admit that the uncertainty and extremes have got me down of late...and watching my partner and children being able to go off and do things I cannot this summer has really brought home to me how much I miss.

Maybe that was a good point about the Sertraline: that it 'took the edge off' as my GP said and I didn't realise the reality or severity of what was going on.

I do now.

Do I want to ? I don't know really but having now known it I cannot un-know it and even with Sertraline the knowledge will not evaporate.

I'm stuck and I'm sick of the struggle but I will come out of it....eventually.


In the meantime enjoy this lovely Gigliola Cinquetti song ' I Have Too Tender a Heart'.
Sometimes it feels just like that

Life's little trials and tribulations

It's been an eventful few days and I feel like I am being tested and coached through life's little hurdles.

The first event relates to TDS (The Dental Saga). For a couple of weeks, one of the teeth that needs removing has been grumbling away and giving me real 'gip' with pain not only in that tooth but into my sinuses and jaw. You'll remember that last month I received the news that my dentist said she could not deal with all my medical issues and was going to refer me to hospital...so I was trying to stall the tooth problem with Ibuprofen and homeopathic remedies.

Last Wednesday I could stand it no longer. I had managed to struggle to my son's school to see him in the Summer Term play and in the midst of Act Two my tooth decided to launch into a real attack to the point where I felt physically sick --bastard tooth ! I was pretty wiped out by the whole experience but after a lot more Ibuprofen I got through another day of waiting and hoping the whole thing would go away. Stupid Cusp ! Got worse and I was forced to confront the issue so that late Thursday afternoon I found myself phoning the dentist and asking for an emergency appointment. Friday afternoon was the appointed hour.

I knew that Conscious Sedation was not going to be an option because
a) I am unable to comply with the two hour fasting rule and
b) that treatment option needs to be pre-planned...so I was just going to have to tough it out.

Cue sleepless Thursday night and much resting Friday morning.

Friday afternoon came and off we went --my partner driving us there because I knew I would need to be driven home. This isn't any old tooth ---it's a nice big fat lower 7 (the one before the wisdom). Very scared and brave Cusp enters room and (to spare you the gory details) emerges rather wobbly 30 minutes later 'sans' tooth.

I am now rather sore and a bit bruised but also rather proud of myself. Unfortunately at some point I shall have to go through the same process twice more but at least I have managed to get to the dentist and have the offending item removed. It can only be good for my general health and I am resting as much as possible in order to try and stave off any ill effects.

The second event is more about the flow of life's river really and the trials and test that confront you once you have children. Today my youngest (who is nearly 11) left for 5 days to go on a school trip to the far north-east coast.


She will be hundreds of miles away (further than France ..as one helpful teacher pointed out) and not back until Friday evening. She is nervous but incredibly excited and looking forward to what will be a fantastic break after all the hard work of the past months for the dreaded SATS which she took last week. I have been anticipating and dreading it for weeks. I have not been really able to think about it without tears coming to my eyes.

has been away before...sleep overs and even for 3 days when she was Year 4 (two years ago) but not so far. She is at a point in her little life where she is on the cusp (!) between childhood and teenage years but in many ways she is still a little girl and she is my baby. It breaks my heart to put her in the care of strangers for five days and let her,what seems, so far away --especially when we have been specifically told not to contact the children unless it is an absolute emergency because to do so only increases the risk of them getting homesick. This is sensible stuff and I know this is another step in letting her go into the big wide world. She must go and I must let her spread her wings and face all the joys and tribulations of living her own life. In years to come there will be a trip further away, University, making her own home, finding a partner......and this is part of the process.

I know she'll find it hard at times and I am reminded of myself at almost exactly the same age going on a school trip to Scandinavia on a ship for 10 days. No mobiles, no letters, no phone calls in 1967....we got on the ship at Tilbury and were gone. As a parent now I can see how hard it must have been for my parents and grandmother to let me go. They were going through what I must go through now.

I can still see them waving me off...smiling and then probably getting back for a good old weep in the Austin as it made its way home. I wrote about that trip once before. I remember the hard bits, the homesickness, the homesickness of other children and feeling so, so far way from home bobbing about on the North Sea in April and seeing seals and dolphins and fjords and the lovely Norwegian people.......so warm and friendly. I remember it all in such detail and despite the difficulties I remember all the good bits too and that's how it will be for my daughter...a lesson in how to survive and be alone, being independent, enjoying self-reliance and savouring the good times.

She'd better send me a postcard , God love her !! ;0)

Only but not alone

It's all anniversaries at the moment. Five years ago today my mother died. All those months of hospital appointments, hospice visits, arrangements for carers, nurses...all the conversations on the phone. All the times I cursed my own ill health for obstructing me from visiting, supporting as much as I wanted and needed to...and the suddenly it was all over. She had gone. I'd done my best and now it was time to tidy up. put things in order, say goodbye and move forward.

I'm not sad today...just recognising a passing. My mother spent much of her life in ill health but she always got back up and moved forward. She was gentle and kind. I give thanks that I was blessed with such loving parents. Being an only child makes you closer still and my mother was an 'only' too. Now she's gone there is no Cusp family from before...only the one here now --- me, my partner and our two children. I see my mother in my daughter...her eyes, her shyness, her sense of humour, her creativity and I know that, whatever the truth about life, death, God that we all live on in our children and our children's children.

Keeping up

So what have I been up to since last we met, you ask ? Lazing in the sun, sipping juleps and Pimms ? No actually. I've been keeping up. In actual fact I have been keeping a secret from you because I have been part of a study made by the MUS (Medically Unexplained Symptoms) Dept. of my local hospital. I shouldn't really tell you more and certainly not show you some of the Report but as it is between us and some of the report is about me, well, .....why not.....just between friends

'Keeping up' is a distinct behavioural mode in the subculture of MEwhirled. This sub strata of Western society and culture is composed of a small and ill defined group of women, men and children who suffer with a condition whereby they can see a world (what we usually call 'normal life' or the 'primary world') moving in front of them and have a desperate desire to join in but who also feel that they are moving within a different time frame with a different set of rules. They feel that they are moving at a slower pace than the primary aworld and are unusually plagued with guilt, mood swings and a need to placate and please those in the primary world.

The behaviour known as 'keeping up' shows them enmeshed within a particular set of fine and gross motor movements which induce aches, muscle weakness and, occasionally a very nasty headache. They are, in effect, making feeble attempts to match the pace of those movements and tasks seen in the primary world (a futile exercise ). In doing so, they feel that they are being whirled round on an ever-faster carousel --- the primary world --- which rushes past as they try to keep up. This whirling effect has given rise to the aforementioned term 'MEWhirled'.

Such intense behaviour can lead to subjects exhibiting a certain irritability as their futile behaviour continues and frustrates them. Their large intestine and bowels may manifest this general irritable demeanour through constipation, diarrhoea, vomiting, flatulence and an intolerance to certain foods --especially the really nice foods such as bread, cakes, chocolate and alcohol.

In recent studies it has been shown that 'keeping up' is particularly common in people with ME who are parents and carers of young children. It also seems to reach a peak at particular times of year -- especially within the hottest summer months and the Xmas period. These two peaks may overlap and this has led experts to posit the theory that 'keeping up' is linked to full-time parental responsibility during school holidays. In particular, the full time responsibility is also linked to a phenomenon experienced by many parents in the general population. This phenomenon is called 'keepingthelittledearsamusedandoutoftroublewiththeminimumoffussandargumanets.'

So you see I have been 'keeping up' and rather than being smething I just do or feel I do it's all legit because now the local MUS Dept has made a study and written a report about it so it must be kosher.

It's not all bad. A lot of it as been enjoyable and fun, if a little tiring.

Since the beginning of last week we have taken part in:

• Sports Day


• Achievement Day: this was 'made' for me by my son playing the recorder for the first time and a little boy in Year 5 who looks a lot younger than his age. He just about managed to sing 'Whistle a Happy Tune' through floods of tears and snot induced by terror at the thougt of singing in front of an audience. 'Whenever gasp I feel sniff afraid, slllurrrrp, gag, snot, I keep my head erect, sniff sniff.... etc)


• End of term school (s) disco (s)


• End of term Youth Club disco


• Buying new sandals


• The local 'French Market'; a jolly and colourful experience but one which leads to a certain sense of disillusionment since many of the articles for sale are wildly overpriced, not french and are served by people who have never crossed La Manche from this side. Still it is tres amusant to see saucisson sec being flogged from a stall in Stowmarket High Street and to hear some of the real french stall holders with their lovely sing-song english. 'Mercimadame'
  
• Making a new skirt for daughter


• Helping son paint old bike and get new saddle so he can flog the old bike and get money for a NOW 70 CD from which he wishes to play Dizzee Rascal at full pelt on the car stereo
  
• Helping daughter make cake


• Going on train to nearest big town (only the second time in 7 years) and then sitting on station platform at nearest big town, spending exorbitant amount on National Express fare (all part of the experience --home made sarnies just don't 'do it'), and watching son drawing trains, taking photos of trains and noting down times of arrival and departure before returning to home town (15 minutes down the line)

• Village fete with dog show where our neighbours' dog won' Dog with the Biggest Grin'. We didn't take Tiffin as it was too hot and he's really struggling in the heat. I also bought 5 foxgloves and 3 heliotropes for £1.40

• Calling ambulance and helping elderly neighbour and who had fallen and broken his hip and whose wife was in real shock. Process took so long and happened at time of day when I would usually be asleep so that, at one point, I thought I might 'flake' and the ambulance would have to accommodate both of us ;0)

Now to you other mortals in the 'primary world', this little list mapping out some of the activites with which we have been involved over 9 days, might not seem a lot. It is just ordinary fodder for the parents of children on school hols .....but for PWME it takes a lot of juggling and patience and organisation and love to get through. It also takes the children a lot of patience, maturity and understanding to have a parent who cannot keep on going ad infinitum without having a 1-2 hour sleep in the middle of the day. My children are such children and I love them all the more for it.

So far we're doing OK and I'm trying my best to rest when I can and grab little bits of 'me time' --- like now.

***************************************************************

I wish all peoples with children who are on holiday a calm and pleasant few weeks.

May you never argue, lose your list of possible activities and outings (you have got such a list haven't you...Woman's Own has been recommending it since about 1959 I believe), run out of easy recipes for amusement or tea.

May you never be bothered by thunder flies which tickle and irritate and get inside next door's burglar alarm and set it off so that it alarms all and sundry and rings for what seems like eternity.

May you never lose your patience with CBBC's endless, endless, endless repeats of Tracey Beaker, Stupid, Best of Friends or Big Kids.

'It's too nice outside to be sitting in here watching that stuff. It isn't as if you haven't seen it a million times already. Go outside or go and find something more constructive to do please'

Can you tell I used to teach ?

I'd never 'keep up' now

Cakes, Fetes, Parents Evening and Sports Day

Here at Maison Cusp we are in the throes of end-of-term/end-of-year school 'jollies': Parents' evening, Achievement evening, Sports Day, End of term Disco, End of Youth Club Disco, Proms, Summer Residentials ....oh the list goes on and on. And you can double all those events because both children have all of them (near as damn it) and their schools are 15 miles apart so that makes for extra fun --- sitting at Sports Day all afternoon and then daughter quickly changing in car so we can drive to son's Achievement Evening for another two hours.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am genuinely interested in what our children have been doing and I love the fact that they are both doing well and are happy at school and their teachers say they have been a pleasure to teach. I'm proud of them and want them to have memories of their parents supporting them and being there and being involved with their schools and I want to know their teachers as much as I can BUT I do so wish that all this didn't have to come all at once. Every year the run up to the summer holidays is a head long rush of activity and later nights with children that are growing increasingly tired too. This is nothing to do with M.E. --well it is too --- but it's the same for all parents of kids at school.

In the meantime, Cusp has been silly. Son was desperate for a shed that he could use as a studio/den/refuge. Finally we relented on the proviso that he helped to assemble it and guess what we were all doing this past weekend ? : erecting a shed..... and it was l hands on deck so I joined in too. I am truly knackered with the screwing, painting etc. etc. and I have woken up feeling as if every bone and muscle is crushed but it was worth it to see his face and see how well he manages to get round his various disabilities to achieve what he wants. We both struggle in our own ways but both soldier on. Of course, being 13 and a half, there are the usual adolescent bumps -- storming off when it won't go right, waking up really late so Parents have done some work on the shed before he's even up but that goes with the territory and it just shows that, learning disability or not, he's the same as any other 13 year old which is great.

Now we have a few weeks grace whilst everything winds down and preparations must begin for the long 6 week break. Will we go away ? Will the M.E. be allowed to get in the way of travel plans and prevent escape ? Is the energy required to go on holiday worth the effort when often I spend a holiday in bed because the journey there has tired me so much ?

Watch this space !!!!!

Pussy cat, pussy cat where have you been ?.......

Well my little blogeroonis where do I begin ? It's been so long since I've had a chance to write a proper post; although I hope you have enjoyed sharing my latest musical obsession.

The last couple of weeks have been a blur of school stuff, daughter's birthday, daughters' party, son's latest project (with which he needs help and supervision and I'll let you know about that in due course) and the half term holidays and PD days where my two little angels manage to blag an extra day off school whilst teacher supposedly involves him/herself in 'Personal Development' --- probably kicking off the shoes and drinking Pimms all day whilst running off a few worksheets on the copier (Here I jest, for I come from a family of teachers and know that the myth of those 'lovely short hours and long holidays' is exactly that --- a myth. All I ever saw my parents and aunts and uncles do was prepare, mark, admin. etc in the holidays. That's probably why I left teaching before I really began.)

Daughter's birthday went well. I had thought about another sock monkey as she so adores last year's fella. He's so adored that he has been everywhere and is consequently filthy and tatty but then that's love for you.

Instead I opted to fashion a new creature. Daughter would dearly like a pussy cat but it's no go as the fur sets off the old allergies and within minutes she is streaming and itching so what better than a puss cat doll (No, not a Pussy Cat Doll; I don't want that kind of influence going on)

And here she is

She's made from calico and her features are painted and sewn on

and her clothes have been reconstructed from some toddlers outfits I found in Oxfam. When they had been washed and hung on the line to dry --- prior to being re-fashioned --- daughter was very curious and concerned; thinking that another sibling might be in the offing

I shall return in due course but for now I must away. In five minutes time my two charges will be back from their first day back for nearly two weeks -- a traumatic event and worthy of a drink and biscuits.Time for me to clamber back on the merry-go-round

Your children, my children and responsibilities

Well the school hols are nearly over and in the air I can feel mixed emotions: some kind of relief that I won't have the pressure of trying to manage all the extra activity on my meagre levels of energy --which are almost at rock bottom now ; some kind of guilt that I feel some relief; some kind of ache that the little monkeys wont be around all the time; some kind of fear and trepidation from the little monkeys because they are going back to school ...and in the case of girl monkey to a new and bigger school.

Having children is such a mixture of instinct, love, your own upbringing, the social pressures of the time you live in, your own childhood. It's like a trifle made with fruit cocktail: it looks lovely and is in layers but there are also bits of fruit which are difficult to stomach and digest (in my case that would be those ghastly little grapes that you only ever find in fruit cocktail).

You may remember the dear soul who asked if my partner was my carer in the most toe curling manner some weeks back. For much of this holiday she has been about and around and so have her children. She doesn't actually live here but her mother does and so she is often nearby with her children. Quiet often her children are here with her mother and without her. Her mother is elderly and disabled. Her mother has her own problems. The woman herself has her own issues. She will also do anything to find other people to keep an eye on her children because she has her own 'issues' and simply cannot cope. We feel a certain sympathy for her...and a certain anger that she will sometimes find all sorts of ways to offload her children. They have spent a lot of time here this week: their grandmother has been away and so their mother has been house sitting and hence her children have been with us more than her.

There are two children: a girl who is diligent and quiet and a good friend to my daughter. She is also already at the school my daughter is about the attend and will help her to settle in. There is also a little boy who is a tiny little ruffian with the naughtiest smile who is a little gem but can be very irritating as he knows no boundaries ! (though often, even when he's been naughty, you have to put on your best stern face because you really just want to laugh and/or give him a cuddle!)

Last night an example of his mother's concern and care came to light.

All the children had cycled up the road to play. They all cycled back at tea time and our two stayed here because their tea was ready. The little scrap wanted to stay for tea too but we have been feeling that we must occasionally put our foot down and encourage his Mum to give him his tea herself, so we phoned her and said W. is here and is his tea ready ? No she said. W. says he wants to go back up the road then ..but he will be alone because our two are staying here to eat. That's OK she says...he'll be all right. We think...will he ?....how much responsibility do we/ should we have to take ? No, on balance, he probably will be OK. He's not our kid and it's not for us to judge.

Five minutes later the clouds gather and it looks like it will pour with rain. We phone 'Mum' and say W is still up there and it looks like rain. You really should go and get him. I can't leave the dogs on their own she says. We raise our eyes to heaven and debate what to do. We're sick of taking responsibility for her kids and shepherding her but we like the kids and feel sorry for her and them. We know the only way to get people to take responsibility is to hand it back to them so we decide to let her get on with it and start to eat tea.

Two mouthfuls in, the phone rings. It's 'Mum'...she is almost hysterical. W. has fallen off his bike and cracked his head open. Someone has seen what happened and brought him and his bike home in their car ... His head is bleeding and she doesn't know what to do. We down tools and utensils and partner ( a trained First Aid-er) goes up and takes a look. It's a tiny cut, but as is the way with scalp wounds there's loads of blood. Partner cleans the wound and advises Calpol, lying down and a close eye for the next half hour. Mum was going to phone for an ambulance and is puffing Lambert and Butler all over him.

Half an hour later Mum phones and W is OK. Drama over.

Should we have let him stay here when they came back for tea. Should we have gone to get him when Mum said she couldn't leave the dogs. How much responsibility do you take for other people's children, for other people's mistakes, for your own ?

What would you do ?

Children

GOD’S SOUL

They are children playing
They are pretty celestial flowers,
They are life, they are enchantment,
They are the light that illuminates the terrestrials,
They are the peace, they are the joy,
They are the world that nobody stole,
They are the soul of a King,
Whom all human beings love.


I found these words on the blog of David Santos who is portugese. I believe they are translated from his own language.

The words convey what I feel about my children much better than any words I could write. I'm not sure if David wrote them or not.

Poignantly they are directly below a picture of Madeliene who is lost in Portugal.