Saturday, December 23, 2006
This time by Irgxana.
‘5 things you didn’t know about me.’
Hmmm this is a hard one as I’m not exactly the most secretive person. I’m quite open about myself on this blog and in real life. I truly live by the motto “Don’t keep it bottled up”; I have found it to be the best way…deal with everything whilst you feel it then move on!
OK, so I’m dredging deep here….
- I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for crap pop music. I love Britney, Madonna…anything that gets played on Radio 1 too many times, Christina; I loved the Spice girls, Pink etc etc. I used to be a gothic and listen to Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus et al but I need shallow music now.
- I once spent the night before Christmas eve under a duvet in a field with my friend Michael. We were 16 or 17. I fancied him so much that just being that close to him was a complete thrill. We had lied to our parents about where we were and we had gone to a party. We’d had an enormous row with some of our friends and had left in a huff. We couldn’t go back to our homes for fear of being found out in the lie so….we slept in a field. He was a lovely chap and a true gentleman. It was unrequited love though because he was gay. Still, that night under the duvet snuggling up because of the cold will stay in my memory.
- I have Carpel Tunnel Syndrome. Bolloxs! I’ve just been diagnosed this week. I think it may be from crochet or pushing a massive double buggy a thousand miles.
- There are a lot of people out there who have been wonderful friends to me that I don’t see any more. I’m truly a terrible friend! There are people who I have banished out of my life with magic; I don’t regret it but every now and then I think about
and wonder how I could have saved our friendship. I was so self centred and on my own drugs adventure when I was 25. I sometimes miss her, I sometimes wonder what she thinks about everything that happened between us; I wonder if she misses me. But ultimately sometimes you are better off without someone who is hurting you. Elizabeth
- I LOVE scratchcards….I think I have a problem! I don’t do them very often but I am a bugger for a scratchcard! I try to convince myself that I have won more than I have spent (I’ve had a few £20 wins) but I know the truth…I haven’t. I don’t drink or smoke or take drugs but occasionally I like a little gamble.
There you go…I bet you feel you know me more now…NOT!
I tag Maia for when she gets back from Christmas holiday. I always want to know more about her!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Osiris, my dear son, is a very brave little boy. I sometimes forget that he is only 3. We had had a very long day yesterday (I won’t go into details but let’s just say – buses going into town 5 days before Christmas, no pram, carrying baby and huge bag and my left hand has gone numb PLUS loose, bored 3 year old) so, as we were in town we decided to pop into our local just-opened children’s play zone. It was 3.30 so I thought a few hours of play and then home would be great for both kids.
It was great. Solomon poddled off to growl at other babies in the babies bit and Osiris disappeared into the main play area.
I ordered some food, it came, I went to find Osiris to tell him grub was up…I couldn’t find him. Hmmm….can’t have left the building, it’s secure. Still couldn’t find him…no need to panic, he’s probably off playing with some new friends…then I heard the wailing keening cry “MUUUMMMMEEEEEEE!!!!!!”
He was hidden around a corner in the baby bit crying and crying his little heart out. Actually it was more than just crying; he was panicking.
He had lost me; only for a minute.
I sat him down and gave him a big cuddle. I started joking “Oh dear, you lost mummy, I’m here now though, you are OK now. Oh Dear…”
Then I realised he was not just a bit scared; he was traumatised; he was having a panic attack.
Now before I get told that I am over reacting, I KNOW what my child is like. He is brave and brash and fearless. He has been all his life. He gets scared but quickly recovers…I had never seen him like this before. I was suddenly very worried.
“…go home…need to go home…” He trembled.
I tried to bring him out of it but I recognised a panic attack when I saw one. For a moment I felt cross at him…I’d just spend £7 on some food and he wasn’t going to eat it or let me eat mine. Then I realised that I had to listen to him and follow my instincts. I picked up the baby and we abandoned a perfectly good turkey baguette and kid’s lunch box.
Out in the cold he started to breathe more normally.
It took us another hour to get home on the Christmas packed bus but we did and he was almost back to normal by the time we saw Daddy.
Well…almost…he has suddenly become a very clingy child. I am really worried about him. He is currently clinging to my back as I write this; very unlike him. He had to sleep with me last night and he says he does not want to leave the house today.
I know I can help him through this because I have the time and the dedication to give him all the reassurance he needs. Rob and I can work as a team to help him. NOBODY is going away!
BUT this whole incident made me think; if loosing your mummy for five minute has such a deep impact….what happened to me when I lost my Daddy at the age of 5? What happened to that little girl when she lost her Daddy and he never came back? He never did come back.
Maybe that explains my panic attacks.
Monday, December 18, 2006
I’ve been a little slow on updating this blog for sometime now. Partly it is because I have been having early nights with the kids and partly because I have had very little to say! When there is so much horror in the world one women saying ‘oh. Look how terrible this is…’ doesn’t seem to mean very much.
BUT…once more into the breach dear friends…
For it is Yule (in a few days) and I am feeling VERY festive!
There is a big pile of prezzies for the kids and Rob has hidden some enrobed fruit for me (kirsch soaked cherries – I urge you to try them!).
I am having a Yule party with a few of my pagan-minded friends. We are having chicken with all the trimmings and a vegetarian thing (as yet unknown; I will descend on ASDA later).
Osiris was a snowflake in the school’s non-religious Christmas play; ‘The Snowman at sunset’. He was, of course, the BEST snowflake apart from the bit where he was picking his nose. It was incredibly well organised; just the right length at half an hour. The kids didn’t have to do anything too taxing (they are only 3, after all) a bit of swirling around and singing ‘Ten Tubby Snowmen’. Again, my son was clearly THE BEST child at holding up the right number of fingers to indicate the remaining snowmen. (I’m his mum, it’s my job to think that) and when I looked over at Rob’s face I could see the misty glow of a proud father in his eyes…arrrrr!
Anyway, a HAPPY YULE to everyone out there and may the return of the sun bring happiness and equality and understanding to all our lives. If not, let’s keep on fighting!
Friday, December 15, 2006
… That’s what I am!
It’s a depressing time to be reading the newspapers in the
First it was Britney’s pannani being disgusted with undisguised loathing by men, now it is women being slaughtered in Ipswich and the CONSTANT reference to drugs, prostitution, women taking responsibility for their own safety etc etc…
Women are scared to go out; he might “run out of prostitutes”.
Women are scared to stay in; being murdered by a stranger is relatively rare for women. Most murders are committed by partners or ex-partners.
Women are scared; welcome to the world.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
This is the offending poster found in Cheltenham. It's a bit blurry due to bad phone and pissed boyfriend.
It says "If you're out and about don't put it about...know the code"
It's pink...guess it must be aimed at us girls!
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Great posts going on all over the place trapping porn seekers everywhere, here . I will add it to my own blog when I can work out how to do it! (I’m a little technologically challenged).
But…Britney’s crotch? I didn’t understand the reference so after a short perusal of the web I found out that the ‘story’ is this…
She gets into a car, lots of male photographers surround her, they are quite intimidating, they stick their lenses in all sorts of angles and eventually get a shot of her with no pants on.
There is a video of the whole event and it makes me feel very uncomfortable watching it. She is clearly being harassed and would like them to leave her alone but, being so famous, she must live with this all the time. She is just walking down a street looking for her car, not at an event or promotional thing, just on the street with her friend. They look so vulnerable surrounded by men flashing their camera at them, asking stupid questions “How are you Britney?” FLASH FLASH. She gets into her car; clearly trying to keep her short skirt down, a photographer literality sticks his camera up her skirt. She says quietly “Come on guys, don’t be perverts” in a desperate way. The guy says “sorry” and withdraws his camera.
TOO LATE – he got the money shot!
Where was the security? Her body guard? Anybody? Britney and Paris walking down the road alone and then suddenly they are being flashed by a pack of paparazzi.
All over the web you can see pictures of her bits. They are squashed up because she is climbing into the car and she is clearly trying not to show them.
HOWEVER most of the still pictures of her look a bit like she meant to do it, the look on her face is of a pissed slutty girl…if you want to believe that.
Suddenly EVERYONE want to tell EVERYONE ELSE how they find her vagina disgusting, how they have gone right off her now, how she is slutty and foul.
Goddess, this makes me sick!
Hey, we’ve all got bodies, get over it!
I’m not even going to comment on the misogyny behind the press coverage of this non-event because I hope my readers are way ahead of me there.
I feel a bit sorry for her, you know…all she wanted was to be famous and to earn some money. I’m sure that little girl Mousekateer really didn’t want her vagina to define her. That’s why she sung and danced and did not just go and work in a strip club.
Mind you, nowadays, what’s the difference?
Friday, December 08, 2006
He looks like a baby. He still says “Gag a boo bo” but he walks and now….today he is 1!
He is a toddler. He toddles about and says “Hiya” (Don’t know where he got it from; we all say ‘Hello’) he loves his cousins and his brother. He is doing a few baby signs.
We had a quite get together at his Gran’s with a few cousins. It was a small do due to my inability to do ANYTHING other than get through the days at the moment. But he loved it SOOOOOOOO much. Seeing his little happy face as he ripped open his presents (then he started looking at the Christmas present pile with a gleam in his eye) I started to think that he really was not a little baby anymore.
Well, I’ve got through the first year and Social Services have not been called…I must be doing something right.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
For those of you who are not in the
So here’s the latest idea for ‘taming’ those terrible teens that has become popular with the reality TV brigade…boot camp. Send them out to the wilderness with basic rations for a week, sometimes with their parents, to thrash it out whilst getting down to basics.
I say…isn’t this what hippies have been doing for years?
Never mind sitting in a tank of crocodiles on ‘I’m a celebrity’ for a life changing experience; try buying a veggie burger after taking an heroic amount of acid.
I’ve been doing the festivals since I was able to blag my mate to drive to
Your living on basic rations because you can’t afford to eat festival food, you have to learn to live and work with the members of your camp (suddenly you are a tribe), you take a STUPID amount of drugs and nobody cares, you lie in a ditch and figure out the meaning of life, some random hippie bumps into you and he’s got the meaning of life too! You wander into a tent where a band are playing trance Japanese yodelling and then drink the most amazing cup of chi tea. Wander through a
fairy grotto and wonder if the fairies you are seeing are real or just festy kids dressed up…no fuck it, the children ARE the spirits of the land…wow man…profound…
Yeah, do that a few times every summer for 15 years.
So…if my boys are ‘misbehaving’ or being ‘troubled teens’ I shall pack a bag for them, bung them £100, give them a map and a copy of festival eye and say “go for it lads, I’ll see you at the big green”
Another good one…spend a week on Glastonbury Tor. There are no bands or distractions, only you and the big ever-changing sky. A place like that can work itself into your soul, into your dreams. The people you met are all pilgrims and then you realise that is what you are too.
The goddess whispers quietly in your ear. You never forget her voice.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
As some of you may know I believe, and practice as much as I can, Attachment Parenting. This is a means of giving a child the confidence in his mother’s (and father’s) love and her ability to nurture him. This leads to more confident children who can explore the world knowing he can return to the safe base of his parents care. This does NOT lead to clingy children and being ‘unattached’ can harm a child’s psychological make-up for the rest of his life.
Some of the practices of attachment parenting include breastfeeding, child-led extended breastfeeding, bed sharing, baby wearing, maintaining contact with the baby when he wants it, no smacking, no controlled crying, baby-led weaning and a host of other methods that work with the child and his needs; not imposing routines on the child that he is not comfortable or ready for.
There are plenty of studies showing the advantage of these methods and no research supports the ‘traditional’ methods. Actually attachment parenting is what has been done traditionally and the modern way is something thought up recently in our anti-children culture. There is not even evidence to say why we are told to mush up food for babies. That is something that is such cultural norm that most people will be scratching their heads and wondering how babies eat anything but mush.
SO….when somebody asked me yesterday whether I was anxiously attached to my children what could I say? This was someone is a position of authority and they are questioning my motives behind my parenting. Do I live through my children? I don’t think I have to justify wanting to be a good mother and doing the best I can. This person is saying that I am using my children to justify my life.
This person is meant to be counselling me so as I defend my choices the more I seem like a neurotic trying to defend her crazy ideas. Mind you this is a woman who said older women could not breastfeed because all they couldn’t make milk, only blood (another cultural ‘only young breasts are good enough’ thing) so what the hell does she know!
Still…it is another episode in the adventures of being an attachment parent. So far I have had to justify my decisions to midwives, health visitors, doctors, teachers at pre-school and now this councillor. This time I feel as if I am in a more vulnerable position because I have come to her for help.
There is a huge clever bit of me who knows I am right but underneath it is a small uncertain bit, full of emotion, who thinks “What if it’s true?”
Monday, December 04, 2006
Saturday, December 02, 2006
I’ve not been blogging for a while because I have been in the depths of a terrible battle for sleep.
Solomon has been finally going to bed at 3 in the morning most nights. This is usually after a lot of crying. My poor nerves are frazzled and I’m seriously considering doing ‘controlled crying’ which I totally disagree with. This is where you leave your baby in a cot on their own to cry until they fall asleep. This takes hours of crying and after a few nights they learn that nobody will come so there is no point in crying and they go to sleep. Many mothers have done it and swear that it is the reason that they have babies who go quietly to sleep at & and don’t wake up all night. When you actually talk to them you find out their babies didn’t do it in a few nights; more like a few months! And nobody tells you about the mothers awful, sickening, quaking mothering soul that says “PICK THE BABY UP, IT’S CRYING” so loudly some mums say they had to be held down to stop them going to their crying babies.
Somehow I don’t think this is very healthy for babies or mothers.
BUT…Solomon is crying for hours anyway! He lies in my arms, struggling, crying, trying to get away because he just doesn’t want to go to bed yet! The only way is to gird my loins, make a gallon of tea and prepare for a long night…
That’s why I have not been blogging; I just haven’t had the energy!
Normal service will be resumed when my sanity has returned.