Last week my Eldest son started his formal education at the school we chose for him last year after visiting it. Since January he had been itching to start, frequently asking “how many days until I start school?”, occasionally getting himself in a bit of a grump when we replied with a number that was a little too big for him to imagine. We had no doubt that he was ready to start school. When he is feeling secure he comes across as quite a mature little boy, he loves reading and is not frightened to use words that he
Yesterday I was hit with a Kid’s Kindle Fire tablet, punched on the leg and then whacked fairly hard across the face and nose by one of my sons. All done in temper, but all in a day’s work of being a parent to them unfortunately. Especially when they’re tired, which they were having spent the day at playgroup.
My Eldest starts school in September. I know, it’s ridiculous. What ever happened to my little boy still in nappies, not quite talking right, relying on us for pretty much everything without much complaint? He’s still in there somewhere, but the sprout of independence is slowly growing within him. The sprout that parents simultaneously hate and celebrate. A little while ago we had a visit from one of the early years teachers from the school we picked along with one of the teaching assistants. This wasn’t something we had expected the school to do, but apparently it is common practice
Before I wrote my previous post I had a conversation with the lovely Emma Sutton (a published author don’t you know?) and a few others on Twitter, which started off as a commentary on the ‘Gender Divide’ in people’s households. I was sitting there chuckling away because we are a same-sex household so by definition there is no gender divide. The only similar thing we have is that one of us is a stay-at-home parent and the other is a go-to-work, or as we’ve called it, stay-at-work parent. Emma and I felt there was definitely enough material in that to
One of the first things you have to decide when adopting as a couple is who is going to be the one who takes adoption leave to be at home with the children. Recent legislative changes mean that you can actually share this between the two of you, but this seems to be rarely a practical solution. For us the decision was fairly straightforward. I earned more than my husband, and it was just about enough to survive on without the need for a second income. I also work 10 minutes away from home and have fairly flexible working practices,
Some days I give up trying to justify why I might be a little bit more stressed about a situation than A. N. Other parent would be. Sometimes I get fed up with being told that it is “normal behaviour”, that it is “what I signed up for”, that “all children are like that”. It’s a situation which I’m sure many adopters are faced with. I sometimes feel like I’m getting my excuses in before people start saying those expressions. Then I’m usually greeted with a screwed up face which just says to me “I don’t understand what you mean,
I’m fairly sure that all parents suffer from overtiredness at some point, some may even live in this state constantly. As we adopted our children when they were both over the age of 1, we didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night to feed them. That doesn’t mean we didn’t wake up and irrationally wonder if they were still breathing because we hadn’t heard from them in ages. Of course they always have been breathing, they were just, you know, asleep – like I should have been! We all have our signs that we pick up
When you have a child who needs constant reassurance you find yourself attempting to preempt and address their worries before they even appear. I discovered this week that doing so can actually add to their worries and result in the polar opposite of what you were trying achieve.
As adoptive parents we sometimes celebrate some very strange things as milestones in our children’s progress through life. Where some might celebrate the first words or the first steps, we don’t always get to do that because when those things happened we were not part of our children’s lives.
Sometimes I have to wonder if we actually adopted three children rather than the two I thought we had.