Proud mama bear...

For those of you who HAVEN'T seen the video on Facebook, Edith learned to ride her bike with no training wheels last weekend.

That girl is so fearless! I told her she might not get it on her first try, and that was just fine. Then we took her out, she got on her bike, Martin supported her just a little bit, and away she went. First time out of the gate.

She'll be turning five on Tuesday, and she's getting a new bike for her birthday. She is so very grown up. Where have the past five years gone?

Dylan's teachers were on strike yesterday, so he and Martin had a little father/son bonding day. They bought Edith's birthday present, had lunch together, and went to the cinema. I had a PB&J sandwich, watched The Goodwife on Netflix, and had my "ladies' cancer screening" at the doctor's office. Who do you reckon had the better day? You're right. It was me!

Dylan loves his dad so much. They both do, really, but Dylan idolizes Martin. He was so content with all the attention that he'd received all day long that he was as good as gold when it came time for bed. I love that!

Oh, and I got Edith those new school shoes. She loves them.

Getting into the groove...

I'm in my second week of work now, and I'm starting to enjoy it. I got paid today, so that kind of helps. But more than that, it's kind of nice to have a bit more structure to my days. It forces me to plan my week out and keeps me on task, knowing that I won't have those two days at the end of the week to get things done. And I like being able to contribute to the funds, if only a little bit!

Of course, there are down sides, too. Like last night, when Dylan told me that the parents were invited to a Sports Relief fundraiser at the school the next day. He got a little teary when I told him I couldn't go because of work. And Edith needing some sports kit, which I could have gone out and bought then delivered to the school for her if I hadn't been at work. I'd imagine there will be more of those moments, but I can live with them.

So yeah, everything is fine over here. No more crying myself to sleep at night over my job. Just slight annoyance about having to get out of bed and go to work!

Tomorrow is the Stake Relief Society activity day over in Hull. I'm teaching a choir workshop, which could either be really fun or a total nightmare. I'll be teaching "God Is Love" from the hymn book. The kids will be hanging out with their Nanna. Slightly put out that I'm missing my life drawing class for it, but hopefully I will get blessings for my efforts.

In other exciting weekend news, I shall be buying Edith some new school shoes as she has grown out of hers.

Oh yeah, that's the way I roll!

Working nine to five...

I'm at work right now.

How weird to be saying that, after nearly 7 years of no job outside the home!

I got a job at a local garage, Beck Hill Motors. It's just part time, working from 9am to 4:30pm every Thursday and Friday. Today is my second day.

The people are all very nice. I've not had any irate customers to deal with yet. The work is not hard, though there is obviously a learning curve and I'm a bit nervous about screwing something up. But yeah, it's pretty ok.

Martin is so thrilled that I have a job now, and I'm happy about that. But it changes everything about the way my life has been for the past 6+ years. Something about going to work outside of my home feels like a betrayal to my children and my ideals. I am a little bit emotional about the situation. In fact, I totally cried about it last night. I'm almost crying about it right now.

But it's extra money in the bank and two days a week out of the house and talking to grown ups, whether I want to or not. And, most importantly, it's a happy husband. If Martin is better for it, I'm willing to do it. Whether I like it or not. Because, to be fair, he's done it for me since Dylan was born. It feels like the least I can do.

In other news, watch this space for a photo project I am currently working on. It's going to be titled "30 days of bed-head." Yes, I AM taking a selfie every morning when I get out of bed to document the awesomeness that is my hair first thing in the morning :)

The value of a girl...

I am a podcast addict. Seriously, there is hardly any music on my iTunes profile. It's all about the spoken word. Talk radio, too. I just love listening to people talk. Maybe it's because I spend so much time alone? But that's another blog post.

I was listening to a podcast about gender selection during pregnancy, and the podcasters were talking about the fact that female children are undervalued. I remember listening to one 'cast about all the "missing" women in China, mostly due to their one child policy and the fact that nobody wanted to have a girl, and all the problems that caused. And I thought about how much I wanted another boy when I was pregnant with Edith.

Here's the thing though--it wasn't that I didn't want to have a daughter. Had Dylan been female, I would have been thrilled to have a girl. But I grew up with all sisters (love you, Jace, but you didn't come along until I was 17) and I loved the dynamic there. It was us girls, all together. If I'd had a girl first, I would have wanted another girl. But since I had a boy first, I really wanted another son. I wanted to be the only girl in the house. I wanted my kids to bond strongly with each other. I wanted it to be me and my boys. Then Edith came along!

From the moment she was born, I started changing my mind about wanting another boy. This gentle pink haze descended on the house. The ironing bag filled up with ruffles and flounces. And all of a sudden, I had Barbie dolls on my horizon. BONUS!

Edith has been my little sunshine ever since then. She is my living doll, to dress up and fix her hair. She is also my hairdresser and makeup artist. We are shopping buddies and we love to be "ladies who lunch" together. I was actually a little bit sad when she started full days at school. I absolutely LOVE having a daughter, and I don't understand why anybody would choose to abort a foetus simply because it didn't have a penis. Daughters are the BEST!

Connections...

I had an awkward conversation with Dylan the other day. He had been outside on the "ramp" (his name for the drive leading from the main road to Eagle House) riding his bike. He came in really upset, so we had a chat.

Apparently, our neighbour and his teenaged daughter were having a fight out by their car, and she was screaming and kicking the car, punching the roof, etc. Dylan, my sensitive soul, was really upset by this. So we talked about puberty and irrational teenagers, about how our neighbours are a bit shouty anyway and the fighting is normal behaviour for a girl her age. He understood, and calmed down right away.

Fast forward a few days, and he asked if he could go out and ride his bike on the ramp again. I said yes, and warned him to watch out for cars. Not eve missing a beat, he quipped, "and teenagers!"

Man, that kid has a keen sense of humour. His mind is just so quick!

We got school reports on the kids last week, and they are doing every bit as well as we expected them to do. Dylan especially is excelling academically. Edith's mainly ahead of the game socially, and also in her reading. She's going to be a popular little lady!

Martin has been working on the last little bit of tiling downstairs. I'm hoping the project will be finished tomorrow. Pretty exciting stuff. And they are doing a refit at Stables in a few weeks. It'll be exciting to see what it looks like when it's finished. Fingers crossed for a few leftovers.

And me? Nothing new to report. I did yoga today and managed a rock solid tree pose. That's about as exciting as it gets. Oh, and I'm considering reupholstering the sofa in a dark grey chenille fabric. Ordered a sample online this evening. Total rock star!

My favourite part of winter...

It's no secret that I hate winter in England. Autumn is lovely, summer is nice, and spring in this country is the most glorious thing I have ever seen. But winter is cold, grey, and dark. I have two things that I look forward to during this long, horrible season. The first thing is the Winter Solstice, which marks the start of slightly longer days. It's such a relief when the shortest day of the year has passed.

The second thing I look forward to happened just this week. I saw my first snowdrop! Soon it will be daffodils and tulips, then the hedgerows will begin to bloom. That creeping mist of green will descend, the rhododendrons will explode with almost tropical colour, and I will be happy. It happens every year, without fail.

England is amazing--the history, the scenery, and the green. Oh, the green! But I'm just not cut out for winter here. Utah is so much colder, but the sun still shines. I miss that so much. Especially the way fresh powder on the mountains looks--like diamonds with the sun glinting off the ice crystals.

I'm melancholy tonight. I think I'd sell my soul right now to move back home. It might be easier than trying to sell my house.

It must be time to go somewhere or do something to remind myself how much I love England. Maybe a little trip to York next Saturday? Maybe Lincoln? How about it family? If you were in England, what would you do next weekend?

Running for my life...

I have been doing the "Couch to 5K" program. Not religiously, but I downloaded the app for my phone and have been running, on average, twice a week. Three times would be better, but my health hasn't really allowed for that. So here's the progress report:

When I started, I could not even run for a full minute. I was running about 45 seconds and panting/jogging until that stupid computer voice told me to walk. As of last week, I can now run for five minutes straight. Don't get me wrong, I am panting and gasping after that five minutes. But the point is, I can do it. I can now run a mile faster than I could when I was 16. It feels great!

Runner's high has yet to happen. I never get this massive endorphin rush while sweating my guts out and panting like a dog. But I do get restless some days, and genuinely want to go for a run. My legs start to tingle, and nothing else will do. And I could totally get addicted to the feeling of finishing a run. It is the only time I really push myself, and that sense of accomplishment is incredible!

I'm not really losing weight with it--probably have to be more consistent for that to happen. But my overall fitness has definitely improved. I'm glad I decided to take it up.

Church was good today. I taught Relief Society and youth Sunday School, and played the piano for R.S. and Sacrament meeting. The closing hymn was a bit dodgy, since I'd never heard it before (though I did practice it) and spent the first eight measures trying with all my might to play it faster than the chorister wanted everyone to sing it. But I've been playing in church for so long that it isn't even embarrassing any more when I mess up. Not worth blushing about--just an eye rolling moment.

Today is Martin's last day off work. He's been off all week, and goes back in tomorrow. It's been so lovely to have him home with me. I adore spending time with my husband! Yesterday, we went out and had a "normal" family Saturday--the kind we never have because he is always at work. We went to Ikea, had lunch, did a bit of shopping, then drove down to Penistone, just north of Sheffield, to see my friend Noelle and her brand new baby. He's gorgeous, and she's doing well. I got to cuddle five day old Stevie for nearly an hour. But guess what? I still don't want another baby. And now that I'm 35, it's official. We are DONE having children. Sorry to my parents if they wanted more grandchildren from me. It's not going to happen.

Anyway, I should probably go and help my husband with dinner prep. Bless him, he's cooked a few meals this week and I'm feeling like a bit of a slacker. Plus, I get to check him out and slap his bum when I need him to move if we cook together. Sometimes having a tiny kitchen is great!

Happy birthday to me...

Turning 35 ended up being pretty painless. I woke up to breakfast in bed courtesy of the kids. Dylan was incredibly proud of the fact that he made my toast himself. Then I played badminton with my husband, did the grocery shopping, had my hair cut, went for sauna with my friend Ali, had dinner with the Gilbert family, and spent a quiet evening with my hubby. Barely even time to lament the passing of my youth.

Thirty five years old. Ouch! Half way to seventy. Round up to forty. Edith told me that I am really getting "quite old." Special.

When we moved to England, I was only 26. Just a spring chicken, really. Now I'm ancient, like the crypt keeper. But I have a wonderful husband, two beautiful children, and a great life. So I'm getting old? So what? Being 35 hasn't changed anything. Well, except for the fact that I have now decided to ditch the grey hair. I am going to dye it tomorrow.

In other news, we have had to cut Dylan off the junk food. We went to Nottingham to visit some friends, and they had nibbles out on the table. Dylan ate so much food that he made himself sick. And in typical Dylan fashion, he did it in his bed. The kid is incapable of getting up and being sick in the toilet. Which of course means a midnight shower and bedding change. It was the second time in less than six weeks. So now he is only allowed to eat the food which we give him, until he can learn to stop eating when he is full. I feel like such a mean parent, but it seems necessary. I seem to recall that Velecia's boys used to do the same?

Thoughtless...

That's me. Literally without thought. I've had this browser window open for a good five minutes, just waiting for inspiration to hit. It didn't, so instead, I will waffle on for a bit and pretend to be really deep.

Martin has encouraged me to do this new diet. Not in a horrible, sexist pig sort of way. He just read about it, and thought it sounded perfect for me. It's a variation of the 5-2 diet. This is the every other day diet, where you eat as you like one day and then fast (500 calories fast) the next. So I decided I'd get on board, and had my first fasting day yesterday. So today I ate as I pleased, and my body was not happy about it at all! I think I'll have to be more careful about my non-fasting days from here on out. But it certainly DOES seem like the perfect diet for me. It's not hard to say no to foods that are bad for you if you know you can have them the next day. It's not too hard to count up to 500 calories. It's easy to remember which day you're on. All in all, I like it. Except for that whole hunger thing. We'll see how it goes.

The running is certainly going well. Had a few weeks off over Christmas, but I'm back in the game now and pleased with my progress. When I started, I could barely manage to run for a single minute. But on Tuesday, I ran two seperate five minute stretches. Properly running, too. Not just jogging to keep up appearances. What a difference!

The kids are doing great. Excelling at school, as I have come to expect. Dylan is starting to have loads of friends now, which is brilliant. He's having a friend over tomorrow night to watch a movie with us. He is trading Match Attax cards with his friends at school. He is always talking about the games he plays with his friends during play time. Who would have thought at the beginning of his school career that he would get to this point?

Edith is really coming into herself. She is horribly bossy and demanding, but she is so charming about it that everyone still loves her. She's cheeky and giggly, and her hair is finally long enough to pull up in proper pigtails. She is my comedian, and my little angel.

As for Martin, well...the other morning, we went to the gym together. He did kettlebells, and I went into the health suite. I was doing leg press, and looked over to see a cute guy bent over getting a drink. Had a little ooh la la moment, then realized that I was perving over my own husband. Awkward. But pretty awesome, too. I sure do love that man!

Turning 35 next week, and I'm sure I'll have a few choice words to say about that when the time comes. Watch this space.

Merry Christmas

And my apologies to my family, who had to sit there opening gifts with my face in high definition on the big screen, quietly crying like a baby.

Sometimes, it just hits me how much I am missing by living in England. I love it here, but my gigantic and loving family are all over in Utah. And I sat by my computer, watching the clan exchanging gifts, and realized how much I wanted to be in the middle of all of that madness. Skype is brilliant, but it's not as good as being in the room.

It was still a great family Christmas, of course. I was with my wonderful husband and beautiful children, and we spent the day with my English family. They are great--the best in-laws a girl could ever ask for. The gifts were a success, the company was affable, and the food was amazing. if only...

Winter blues...

Last year, I was all medicated up on Prozac and I breezed effortlessly through the grim English winter. Now I am drug free, and I am feeling every sun-less, bone chilling moment. If I was a drinker, I would be annihilating a bottle of wine a night just to get through.

Thank goodness for the Word of Wisdom, right?

Anyway, things are going well. I am enjoying the run up to Christmas. I have made my Christmas puddings and mincemeat, and I am keeping the kitchen stocked up with home baked goodies for company. The house isn't as clean now that the weather has turned horrible, but it is ok. Basically, I hate doing housework in the dark. And it is dark by 3:45pm. If I could, I would totally hibernate for all of November and December. And probably part of January, as well.

Dylan and Edith have both done their Christmas plays for school. They were cute. It's just a shame that there were loads of other kids there and the plays were held in a room full of people (please see above comment about hibernating). Dylan's play was called "Manger Mouse," and Edith's was "Cheese, Please." Both cheeky little takes on the traditional nativity.

Today is a special day, anyway. It is my baby sister's birthday. Happy birthday, ShaNeil! I remember the day she was born. It was a Thursday. I know, because it was early day. We got taken up to see her after school. She is eight years younger than me, so we were never super close. But I've always been impressed by her quick wit and her incredibly beauty. Oh, and she has the cutest baby EVER! I am looking forward to moving back to Utah and getting to know her better as an adult and a friend instead of just a sister.

JUST a sister? How crazy was that statement? My sisters are the only people from my childhood that I am still friends with. Sisters are way better than plain old friends, and I miss all of mine like crazy.

I've been given a speaking assignment for church this week, about "Christmas Past," and it has me getting all nostalgic about the Christmases of my childhood. Holidays always make me long for home. And even though this is my 9th Christmas in England (wow, it seems even longer, seeing it in black and white like that) and I have a husband and children of my own now, home is still sort of where my parents and siblings are.

Such a Debbie downer today. I'm kicking myself off the computer so I don't spread my bad mood like a disease!

Happy kisses!

Au Naturale...

Top ten reasons letting my hair revert to its natural colour was a good idea:

10. Not putting chemicals in my hair makes it healthier and shinier

9. Natural highlights--got to love those

8. Gray is very in this season

7. I'm setting an example for my daughter that she can grow old gracefully and not buy into the notion that while it is perfectly acceptable for a man to show his age, a woman must look perpetually seventeen in order to be desirable.

6. Because screw the patriarchy, that's why (got on a little streak there. Stepping off my soap box now)

5. I now have so much more time to devote to worthy causes, like promoting world peace and supporting my local library

4. My house never smells like ammonia any more.

3. My lack of facial lines and wrinkles is highlighted even more by the fact that I have granny hair

2. It draws attention away from my dark, luxurious moustache should I not have time to bleach or depillate

1. There's not nearly as much gray as I thought there'd be!

So yeah, here's to letting my natural colour shine through for the first time since I was fourteen. I feel like such a dirty tree hugger. Next up, growing out my arm pit hair (don't laugh, I've done it before) and getting some birkenstocks.

I'm humming a Janice Joplin song even as I type...

Drama...

So the most exciting event of this week was supposed to be tiling our dining room:



Instead, the house next door caught fire early on Wednesday morning:



So Wednesday morning was pretty exciting. Our neighbor, Mickey B., pounded on the door at 4am and told us that the roof next door was seriously on fire. We got the kids out of bed, grabbed our passports and document file, got our coats and shoes on, and got out of the house.

The kids spent the next three hours watching the Disney Channel at Mickey's house while Martin and I watched the fire getting closer and closer to our house until the fire brigade got it out. It was pretty terrifying. But our house suffered pretty minimal damage, and our home owners insurance is covering all of it.

It's kind of nice to know that I'm not very materialistic. Too bad it took a major fire to gain that knowledge.

So yeah, loads of drama. But, all things considered, getting the tiling done IS more exciting!

Running...

Me, dying after my run this afternoon

I started doing a couch to 5K workout program on Monday. This may not seem like a big deal to some, but there's something you need to know about me in order to be properly impressed:

I HATE RUNNING!

If I were being chased by zombies, I would rather let them pull my brains out and eat them whilst I was still alive than have to run away from them.

This is not hyperbole.

Running is not the only exercise I hate doing. I also detest biking (that seat is just NOT comfortable, and you'd have to be a masochist to enjoy sitting on it for extended periods of time, IMHO) and group sports of any kind.

Basically, I hate cardio. It's not that I dislike getting my heart rate up. Just that I hate being sweaty, uncomfortable, short of breath and dealing with the rather unfortunate effects of gravity on an empty baby bag.

Really intense flows in yoga and aquafit do NOT count as cardio, by the way :)

Martin asked me why I decided to start running if I hate it so much. I told him that people who run tend to look good, and though I don't like running, I DO like looking good.

I remember being younger and totally happy in my body. I've never been thin, but my body used to be able to handle whatever stresses I put it under. That's just not the case any more. And I'd like to change that while I'm still young enough to do it. And if that means taking up running, well, I'll do it.

But I'll complain about it all the way, because I STILL HATE RUNNING.

(Although I did experience runner's high for the first time ever--I think. That was weird.)

So what's next for me? Ladies' basketball, perhaps?

Not likely. I still have standards, after all!

An Achievement...

Not mine, but Dylan's. He is now riding his bike with no training wheels. Pretty amazing, considering he only got that bike a few months ago. We didn't really encourage bike riding for him when he was younger because he wasn't very coordinated. Couple that with his bleeding disorder, and it was just a recipe for disaster. But he was finally ready this summer.

Dylan gets really down on himself when he can't do things straight away. He is very smart, and expects to do new things with ease. And he's so sensitive that he cries when he's disappointed. So teaching him to ride a bike was frustrating for me and Martin. It took so much patience and loving encouragement, which is really hard to give when your six year old is crying like a baby over NOTHING!

I wasn't there the first time he rode on his own. I was at my yoga class. But I saw the video, which was brilliant. And he is so proud of himself.

Seeing my children grow and develop is everything I dreamed it would be. So many aspects of motherhood are not, but this one meets all of my expectations! To catch a brief glimpse of their full potential, well, there are no words to describe the absolute wonder of it...

Life...

It's changed a lot since my last post. And I do mean a LOT!

First and foremost, both kids are now back in school. And Edith is going for full days instead of half days. So this means that I am now a full time home-maker with free time during the day. And let me just say, it is every bit as good as I thought it would be. My days are spent cleaning the house, doing the shopping, baking bread, preparing meals, visiting with friends, and going to the gym. Not to mention that I get nearly two hours of time alone with my husband EVERY SINGLE DAY! It's like heaven in 6 1/2 hours.

Once we got the kids safely back to school, Martin and I buckled down and got the house ready to re-list with our real estate agency. They came and photographed the house two weeks ago, and the "for sale" sign went back up last week. We are going to be tiling the dining room next week, but then all the big projects are finished and it's just a case of keeping the place clean and getting the right people in for viewings so they can fall in love with our house and buy it from us. Fingers crossed.

In other news, I have started weaning myself off the Prozac. I have been on half a dose for over a month now, and will be reducing again next week. The meds helped me out of a bad place, and I have no regrets about taking them. But coming off them makes me realize just how medicated I was. I feel as though I am getting my personality back. I am having to work harder to control my temper, but I am enjoying life so much more. If I have to go back on them, I will. I never want to be in that dark, dark place again. But I'd rather try to do without.

Going drug free coincided with my other big change. I am no longer seeing a therapist. I have officially been declared sane :) I feel like everything has just come together in the past six weeks. Life is still hard, but also good. You know, like it's supposed to be.

Anyway, the kids are thriving in school. Martin is staying busy at work. The house is clean.

I just wish we were doing all these things back in Utah.

A very special day...

My baby boy turned six today, and my what a day it was!

It started off with opening a single birthday gift (just to buy us a little more sleep). Then we went ahead with what is becoming my favorite birthday tradition. I told Dylan the story of the day he was born. I do it every year, and each year the kids get a few more details. The favorites this year were how my water broke on the landing and the carpet got all wet and how Dylan pooped while he was still inside my tummy. He thought both of those things were hilarious. Oh, and that we stopped to buy icecream on our way to the hospital.

We were supposed to go to the Doncaster Dome for swimming, then lunch and a movie. Got a nice, early start, too. But our car broke down on the way there. Luckily we hadn't gotten very far, so Lewis came and picked me and the kids up while Martin waited for the AA to arrive. We regrouped at home and took the bus in to Hull (alternator went, in case anyone was dying to know). We got our lunch and watched Smurfs 2 (Dylan's choice). Then it was back to Barton, a scooter ride to the Leisure Centre for swimming lessons, and home again for a small dinner party of Martin's parents, his grandparents, me, the kids, and Amy. Martin took the morning off, but had to go in to work at five.

Chicken noodle soup was devoured, cake was enjoyed, toys were played with, goodbyes were said, kids were tucked up in bed, and here I am--alone, exhausted, and happy.

Becoming a mother has not been an easy journey for me. Getting pregnant was difficult. Pregnancy was stressful. Childbirth was impossible. Surgery was painful and disappointing. Staying home with a newborn was stiflingly boring. Post partum depression was crippling. And yet, as with most things in life, the hard things often turn out to be the best.

I am so proud of my son. He is bright and beautiful, sensitive, kind, perceptive, and so very smart! And though he was born with a lot of those traits, I know that Martin and I can take partial credit for the way he is growing up and turning out. Most of the time, though, I wonder that I was so blessed to be his mother. He has taught me so many lessons. I've learned more about patience and unconditional love from him than I have from any other person or event in my life. And he teaches me every day. Sometimes the lessons he teaches me are hard ones to learn, about my own weaknesses and failings as a person and as a parent. But I love him for those lessons all the same.

I still remember the night I found out I was pregnant. I cried tears of joy. I often think back to those times when I used to lie in bed feeling him roll around inside me, watching the taut skin on my belly ripple and wave like a flag in the breeze. I had so many expectations about motherhood. So many dreams and fantasies. Then Dylan was born, and nothing was like I expected it to be. It was so much harder.

But it was infinitely better...

Freedom...almost!

Something amazing happened yesterday. So amazing that I would have blogged about it last night had I not had company over (Thursday night is when Amy comes over for dinner).

I sent the kids to Micky B's shop to get me some garlic.

Alone!

For those of you who aren't familiar with my little neighborhood, this probably sounds like a much bigger deal than it is. For those of you who know my neighborhood, you're probably wondering what the big deal is. His shop is just around the corner from our house. It's kind of like mom and dad sending someone over to the Jones's house to borrow a cup of sugar, only with money. So it's really close, and they don't even have to cross any roads to get there.

Why is it a big deal then, you ask? Because it was the FIRST TIME EVER they have gone off our property with no adult supervision.

I wondered if it was a good idea. Dylan is not quite six, and I have no concept of what is "normal" and "acceptable" in these situations. But he's super mature for his age, and I was in the middle of making jam and pasta sauce. So I gave the kids £1.50, told them that I needed garlic, and said they could use the leftover money to buy themselves sweets. Off they toddled, I watched them to the corner, and ten minutes later they came home with three heads of garlic and a bag of penny sweets each. They felt wonderfully independent, and I felt so incredibly liberated.

They are growing up so fast now. I know plenty of people who get sad about that, but it really makes me happy. I love seeing my children becoming more self sufficient. It's amazing to watch them learn and grow, and great when they don't need me as much.

I had a moment of clarity the other day about my parenting skills (or lack thereof). My problem with children is that I don't really like playing with them. And it's not a new phenomenon, either. Ask my mother--even when I was a child I didn't particularly like playing with other children. Nine times out of ten I would prefer to play alone. I still feel that way now, and it makes playing with my own children a bit challenging.

I also had another insight a few nights ago. I am doing so much better psychologically than I was last year. It had been a rough day (summer holidays, you know) and I was desperate to get the kids into bed. But I didn't feel stretched to the breaking point and incredibly fragile. I just felt tired. Like any normal parent would after a hard day. And that is progress.

We've only got two more weeks of the summer holidays, and I am ready for the kids to be back at school. Edith starts full days this year, and that's going to be fantastic. But it's been a great school break this time. Four weeks without feeling like I wanted to give them up for adoption? Practically a miracle in my book. Next test will be to see if I can do this without drugs!

Jobs I hate doing for no particular reason...

1. Putting dishes away

2. Putting clean laundry away

3. Filling the car up with petrol

4. Making packed lunches for the kids

5. Ironing mens' clothes

5. Changing the kids' bed linens

6. Cleaning the windows

7. Taking out the garbage

8. Going through old newspapers and/or junk mail

9. Defrosting the fridge

10. Putting away groceries

Wow, this list makes it seem like I hate being a housewife.

Hmmm...

Handsome Dylan

Easter egg hunt at St. Nicholas' church in Ulceby


King of the castle!


Big tough guy with a fat lip. Awww...


Class picture day at ~Castledyke School.