International Blog Swap Day - Introducing Suzanne from UK's '3 Children and It'

I'm going global today, well reaching the UK anyway. I've signed up to take part in Digital Parents and Tots100's International Blog Swap Day 2014 where Aussie/NZ bloggers are paired up with a whole list of UK bloggers and we get to swap blog posts for the day.

You can see more IBSW14 posts here

I was paired with the lovely Suzanne from 3 Children and It who lives south of London in a beautiful village.  Please visit her blog and give her some Aussie hospitality.  She's kindly answered some questions I've put to her so we can get to know her a little.  I've also answered some of her questions and she has hosted me on 3 Children and It for the day.  (Seeing this happens to fall on our Friday, I've also killed two birds(!) with one stone and linked up With Some Grace for #FYBF).

Well this is all very exciting isn't it? If you're not quite sure what's going on, I'm Suzanne and I'm a thoroughly British blogger who has been given full permission to hijack Becci's blog for the day. I blog over at 3 Children and It about family life and all the highs and lows that come with parenting 1 Teenager and 2 Tweens, plus a little pooch who we all love dearly. 

In honour of International Blog Swap Day (yes, it was new to me too) Becci has given me free rein to say whatever I like. Well not exactly, she's actually provided me with some alarmingly thought-provoking questions, so here goes....

1. What era/decade/century would you have loved to live in besides now and why?

When I saw this, my heart sunk a little. I could conjure up some high falutin response but in all honesty, I'm not a romantic or a dreamer so have no burning desire to be anywhere other than the here and now. Having said that, I am somewhat drawn to period dramas (think Jane Austen) and although my husband rarely allows me to watch them, I do hanker after those cover-all dresses that hide a multitude of sins and the oh-so-polite courting that goes on. Wouldn't life be easier with teenagers in this era?!

2. What 'thing' that you own, will you never never never throw out (eg. old teddy bear, photo or keepsake)?

So this one got me thinking. Most items that hold sentimental value for me are more to do with my children, than my own childhood. Shall I let you into a secret? I have kept every single one of their teeth! Yes it's a little bit gross but I could never part with those.

Something slightly less 'weird' would be books. I haven't been able to keep every single book we have ever read together but there are a handful which were poured over night after night and these ones will be kept in a safe place to read with my Grandchildren one day (not just yet please!). 

My mum recently 'blessed' me with all of my old school reports from age 10 upwards. We had such fun reading through them, realising that I wasn't quite the 'swot' that I thought I was - my kids certainly enjoyed that bit! Although they aren't a vital part of life, it meant a lot that she had kept them....obviously I've now got to find a home for them amongst all the clutter. Thanks Mum! (picture of school reports).

3. What was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you, either in childhood or adulthood?

Weirdly, I don't remember very much about my childhood - I take that as a good sign! I do recall referring to the teacher as 'mummy' on a few occasions (not cool) and my devoted mother offering to attend every school trip going (again, not cool). My sister and I eventually stopped bringing the letters home, in the hope that this would stop. Bless her, I know now that she was only trying to support us and her commitment to the cause was admirable but shameful at times too!

You may notice that I am avoiding talking about embarrassing moments from my adulthood. All I can say is it usually involves me and my big mouth....suffice to say, I'm learning.

4. What do you love most about where you live?

We live in the South East of England (about 1 hour from London) in what can only be described as 'suburbia'. We can walk into a medium-sized market town, the kids can catch a train into a slightly bigger town with better shops but we also have lots of green and wooded areas in which to walk the dog. It is very family orientated and was in fact voted the best town for families to live in the UK - deeming it the safest place. Enough said!

5. If you could be a person in history's mum, who would it be?

Argh! See my first sentence in response to question 1!  Gosh, what a loser, I can't think of anyone.....expect maybe Hitler, in the hope that I could stop him from doing all of those horrific things.

On that (rather depressing) note, I will sign off. Lovely to meet you all *waves* and if you fancy hopping over to my blog then I would love you to drop by. I can't promise tea and cake but I can promise a warm welcome.  You can find me on Twitter or 'like' my page on Facebook too. No excuses!

Thanks Suzanne!  x

A Welcome Weekend

I enjoy my weekends.  Even between the domestic duties, the driving from one sport I'm not into to another sport I'm not into (but enjoy watching the skills my kids have thankfully inherited from their father), I'm pretty much able to do whatever I want, as long as I come for dinner.

The Chicken and the Nugget are mostly independent now and if I want to go and have a four hour lunch, I can (The Moneymaker spends most Saturdays with the Nugget either playing soccer or watching soccer or just kicking a ball around the park anyway).

So along with Rachel from The Kids Are All Right and Lisa from Mum Of Adult Kids, we spent Saturday afternoon lunching and nattering about our lives and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  It was at an old haunt of mine, The Welcome Hotel in Balmain which lives up to its name in spades. I used to spend the odd Saturday afternoon and more often a Friday night in this pub with my old friend and so it was strange to be there without her there.  She really needs to come up from Melbourne for another weekend soon but being a single Mum who works full time, it can be hard to co-ordinate.

The Welcome has an Irish feel and a comfortable atmosphere.  It hasn't gone all chrome and glass like a few pubs in the Inner West so I feel more at home there. And the restaurant is up there with the best around.  Even though I've had the Beef & Guiness Pie before, it still came as a shock when it came to the table.  It took a minute or two before Lisa's burger and Rachel's Middle Eastern Vegetable Pie with Caramelised Onions and Spinach (entree size) appeared but suddenly the conversation stopped as we stared at this huuuge thing!

My pie looked like it had a baby!

I hadn't ordered a side salad or veggies thank God but I knew I would never get through it (thanks Rachel for the help!).  **This wasn't sponsored by or a paid review of The Welcome Hotel, I just wanted to let you know how much I like it.**

Even though the food (and the wine of course) was really good, finding out about each other was even better.  We found a lot in common (who would've thought that Lisa and I went to the same high school!) and could relate to each other so well.  Lisa has grown up boys and has been through all the normal trials and tribulations of teenage years and Rachel and I are just starting that bumpy ride.

It was really great to bounce things off each other and reminded me of my old mother's group in Enmore (which has been going for 13 years).  It wasn't like the original mother's group I had joined where the biggest topic of conversation was how much our baby had grown or walked or talked or poo'ed. Today was an exchange of experiences not only from being a mother but also from being a teenage daughter (which we all were some time ago).

I've always believed that my daughter should be aware that I've been through what she is going through and have survived.  I may not always give her the details (some things don't need to be told!), but she knows I didn't live in a bubble and I knew a thing or two.  This also keeps her on her toes - she knows she won't get away with much!  Also watching Puberty Blues, the original movie and the series next week, may give her an idea of what it was like.

This isn't the place for me to talk about her, she has a digital footprint already.  Also she knows where I live.

This is probably the reason a lot of parent bloggers don't write about their teenage children online.  I would love to type the conversation we just had with our daughter a minute ago, but if she found out she would be devo'd (see, I know the lingo! - *gawd I'm old*).  Maybe being anonymous would be a good idea.....

Anyhoo!  Saturday closed with a quiet night at home (even though I would have loved to stay at The Welcome and had a few vino's while listening to the cover band which started just as we left).

Sunday was spent at the Five Dock Ferragosto which meant crowds, cold winds and hot coffee. I was a little disappointed as I only went there because I got the dates wrong for the Vintage Fair at Marrickville. It was last weekend (doh!).

Nugget learnt a financial lesson at the festival when he spent his savings ($15) on the first weapon show bag he saw then regretted it when he later saw a much bigger and better toy bow and arrow for $12.50.  It was time to take Grumpy home.

Fail - 1; Win - 1

After reading about Mia Freedman listing what she considers as a success in being a mother and her "Crap List" about how she felt she had failed, I realised we have these every day. In fact today was an example of getting it very wrong and then getting it right. Fortunately the Nugget is very forgiving of his Mum. He realises my faults and does not push it when he can see steam coming out of my ears.

This is how it went down.

As the Moneymaker is away in China for 9 days, I need to fill in on the driving kids to school, sports, etc. So yesterday all I had to do was get the Nugget to his Saturday soccer game by 10am. We had been to this particular field before and I was driving the 'good' car with the in-built GPS - shouldn't be a problem eh? We left in plenty of time, on our way I entered the address and then I remembered - "Linda" (what we call the GPS) did not like this suburb and would only list the street name under a general "Sydney". Not helpful but I locked it in and hoped for the best.

Linda let me down.

As I felt ourselves moving further away from the suburb we should have arrived at by now, I whipped out my iPhone and Google mapped the address. Between these two devices and my SHOCKING sense of direction we turned up in time for half time. Big Fail! But my little trooper ran in to relieve the substitute from another team (we didn't have any reserves) and immediately scored two goals to bring them ahead. They ended up 10 all so not too bad an ending, but I still felt horrible. The swearing must have been colourful on the way there too (Moneymaker calling from China to see why he was getting calls from the coach asking where Nugget was didn't help either!), because on the way home when I missed a green light and said "poo-bugger-bum-wee", the Chicken laughed and said I said alot worse than that on the way there!

After lunch and Chicken's first basketball game (she won!!), we rushed home for a quick change and then to drive another half hour to drop her off at her friend's for a sleepover. That left me and Nugget free to do whatever we felt like doing, which meant the playground for him and finishing Mia Freedman's Mamamia under a tree for me.

It has taken me ages to read this book, not because it's hard to read but I have been totally distracted by blogs, tweets, newspapers, and the real life stuff as well. I've snatched moments waiting in the car at school, at soccer and escaping for a coffee now and then. I've loved every page and Mia is my new idol. Some situations that were familiar made me want to write to her to sympathasise and/or celebrate and other circumstances inspired me to believe I could do something useful with my life. What that is I'm not sure.

Anyway! back to being the schizophrenic mum ... the playground bought a special treat, Mr Whippy!

It was coming onto 5pm and I told Nugget I could tell what time it was because all the little kids had started getting a little 'narky' and crying was coming from all corners of playground. I explained to him about "witching hour" and he was very amused by this mum theory. After a little while he agreed to leave because the toddlers were too witchy. He also wanted to avoid the little girl that kept following him and trying to show him her necklace. He could only run away so many times. He had also tried to join a group of boys playing ball but they had gone home. Nugget now admits sometimes it's good to have a sister around for company.

We were going to go to the Fish Markets to have prawns for dinner but they were shut so ended up at the local bowling club where we had a woeful seafood basket and I watched a Rugby replay with a lonely glass of wine while Nugget played with a cricket mate he found (he has friends everywhere the little bugger).

So I had scored points on Nugget's mum scorecard but it was all wiped out when I had to nag him to get to bed after watching Rockwiz. I got that evil look again and Mr Whippy was melted and forgotten.

How do mums keep in their kids' good books and still have some control and discipline over them? Or do we have to wait for them to grow up and appreciate all the nice things we did with them? Do they forget all the good times and only remember what Mum didn't do for them? I know I remember maybe three great things I did with my mum and know of dozens of instances where she wouldn't have won any mothering awards. Hopefully I've not done that badly and they will still tell nice stories about me to their children.

How do you keep the fun and control on even scales?

[Also don't forget you've got 1 week left to enter my Panasonic competition, so visit here soon!]

(I've added this as it seems we are all facing being imperfect lately - thanks to Picklebums!)

Quick rant on parent-to-parent etiquette

I need to get this out before the rage dissipates. I know tomorrow my anger will be leveled and I will take on my more reasonable attitude that life is too short to sweat the small stuff. After all, I should be dumping my creative(?) juices(??) into a post about the loss of my Mum two weeks ago but I don’t want to go there right now. It’s better to focus on the trivial at the moment.

So, let me ask you what is the best way to approach another Mum about their child having nits? Is it to bring it up as an announcement to those shameful parents in front of other parents and grandparents of the soccer team? This is what she did.
Instead of talking to us discretely or calling us on the phone to let us know. How is this beneficial?

Let me explain the situation. We were given free tickets to a comedy show for Friday night and thinking we needed a big dose of the sillies after the last couple of weeks we’ve gone through, I didn’t want to pass them up. But seeing that our 12 yr old chicken was going on a sleepover, there was the small matter of 8 yr old dog boy needing care.

As available babysitters are as rare as free nights out around here, the offer from dog boy’s friend’s Mum to have him over for a sleep over was hard to resist. She had seen to be a personable and responsible citizen in the past 4 months we had known her and very friendly on the Saturday mornings we joined up with the team. Even when she said she would be out but her Mum was staying with them to fill in, I had my tiny feeling of unease but she assured me it was all fine.

So child was dropped off and we were free! It was a good night with a couple of solid hours laughing (even though hubby pointed out my similarities with Fiona O’Loughlin’s lazy mothering skills!) and even a sleep in! The usual Saturday morning still started at 8.30am with picking up daughter for netball and meeting up son at soccer after. Our ‘friend’ had already called to say she would take the boys straight to soccer but ‘had to have a talk to us both’ … did not bode well, assumed that he had been a bit of a terror.

Except he wasn't. When daughter and I caught up with the boys, Dad quickly whispered to me ‘he’s got nits’ before the woman grabbed me and proceeded to regale me with the description of his disgusting infested head and what she went through to rid him of them and that her kids had only had them once in kindy and hoped that they hadn’t got them again. This was in front of at least two other mums who looked suitably embarrassed for me.

‘You should have called us’ I meekly said after apologising and looking suitably shocked (after all, we do put that ghastly lotion in their hair every week because the only time they do not have an egg carried home from school is in the holidays). She said she was going to call us but he didn’t want to go home … what? This super mum panders to a shy, diseased 8 yr old boy?

But wait, there’s more….

Now dog boy has had a bit of a runny nose for a couple of weeks and as boys do, when it dries up he picks it. Disgusting I know but I’m learning that’s what boys are made of. So of course it bleeds and it dries and I put a warm cloth on and it stops then it runs, dries, bleeds etc etc etc. I know this will stop when his nose stops running, but what kid doesn’t have a runny nose during winter. He has no other cold symptoms and he’s as fit as a mallee bull so he doesn’t need medicine. But no, this was not good enough for supermum, she attacked his nose with an ear bud, baby oil and vicks. She explained it all to me (still in front of the other mums), how she shoved it all up his sore nostril and announced it was infected and would need antibiotics.

WTF!! This is the part I get really mad about.

Now I don’t know whether she’s had a medical career in a past life, but I don’t think you should be shoving anything up somebody else’s child’s nose in any circumstances. My medical knowledge is limited to a senior first aid certificate (even though I need the manual on hand, I’m still qualified to treat a few things on students at my work), but I’m pretty sure this is overstepping the mark. Now dog boy is a shy boy (outside of his home and the soccer field), so he told me later he didn’t cry out much when this was going on.

I just get madder and madder thinking not only did she do this but poured something all over my son’s head that morning. He said he didn’t know what it was but did not recognise the bottle as anything we have ever used – and we have tried every nit lotion on the market – and that it smelt like petrol. WTF again!!!! What if he had been allergic to whatever he had been soaked in? I know when I use KP24 on my daughter her scalp starts peeling, what if he had had a reaction and his skin peeled off like a mandarin?

WHERE DOES SHE GET OFF?????

But wait … there’s more to rage about.

Before I got to the soccer field, she had also announced the whole drama to his Dad in front of another crowd of parents, even the coach and his parents. The coach then let him know that when their son has an ‘illness’, they keep him home till he’s better so he doesn’t ‘infect’ the other boys and this will be particularly important when the boys are about to go away on a soccer competition.

So not only do I get it with both barrels from supermum but then my steaming-from-the-ears husband blasts me about it as soon as we get away from them. First words: ”great job, Fiona O’Loughlin”.

That’s it, I’m ready to let her have it (in my head, or blog, of course, too much of a wimp to actually confront someone).

After gritted conversation over lunch it was agreed to make an emergency call to my hairdresser friend for an urgent buzz cut. She was wonderful as usual and when I repeated the drama from the morning she was as enraged as me, particularly about the nostril poking (note that I took him to the doctor this morning and the nose was NOT infected, just a bit ‘annoyed’ and was given some healing cream to put on – it’s already better after one day).

Of course my husband cooled down and started a plan to ‘fix’ the situation – the cut and doctor already put in place – and sent an email to the other parents letting them know that our boy had lice and they might want to check their sons hair, also we had now eliminated them (just spent the last afternoon soaking and combing all of us – even the dog!).

Funnily enough, the boy and Dad bumped into one of the other dads in the park today and he asked if we had noticed that ‘supermum’ was drunk yesterday morning? She was showing us how she danced the night away and singing whatever song she danced to – come to think of it, a little strange? The other Dad was concerned when we said she had our boy over and had driven him to soccer – and of course he had been told about the nits. As I think every person within shouting distance had.

Now, please let me know, am I right in thinking this IS JUST NOT DONE? Is there etiquette when it comes to treating someone else’s child and letting them know in front of people you haven’t known long and are really trying to fit in as the new kids on the block?

And are we better off just not ever going out without children ever again? There always seems to be something you have to pay out. There’s no such thing as a free ticket.

Don’t-do-as-I-do, do-as-I-say Parenting

I don’t think I’m the only one who parents by instruction much more frequently than by example. Meaning I TELL my kids how they should behave a hell of a lot more than I SHOW them. I’m great with advice on how they should conduct themselves in public but I don’t tell them of my past exploits and shady behaviour “when I was young” (OK there was that girls weekend last month, but what happens on tour stays on tour!).

We all want our children to become the perfect people we could never be and take advantage of the opportunities we work hard to have available to them.

For example, my husband spends a fair amount of his time watching his son play soccer and will take him to any training or any game anywhere at anytime – he LOVES it! He has told me there is nothing he would rather do than watch his little man do his magic on the field – yes I get a little miffed that hubby would rather do that than stare adoringly into my eyes but it’s better than drinking with mates in the pub, eh? He even took up soccer so he could practice with the little Nugget (and I won’t even mention the MANY injuries his old, untrained body endured since).

Some of this dedication is due to the fact that his parents never watched him play rugby league, even when he was playing state rep games. Nugget has sometimes brought us undone when he asks if Nanny and Poppy can come watch – we cover for them and tell him white lies so he doesn’t think badly of them, but what grandparent would not want to watch their 8 year old grandson bend it like Beckham on Saturdays??? Even I love watching both my children play on a freezing morning and I don’t even like sport (what's with all the whistles in netball??)!

My point is, what we lack in our childhood, we try to make up with our kids, whether its a secure home, good education, good food or great opportunities to experience in life (yes, my childhood pretty much lacked these things, but that’s another story/post). And we make sure we never never never tell them what we did as a teenager.

So what have you made up for with your kids that you never had as a child?