Because being a Mother is also being a referee…

And I take my role really seriously…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The things I have learned during the Diamond Jubilee weekend

This post was going to be live in a much more timely manner, but unfortunately half term, the boys getting over tonsillitis and then it was my turn, so here you go a very delayed Jubilee post… oops…

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1- My boys can walk

Meaning they can walk miles and not complain about it.
Saturday morning I got the urge to get a slice of London during this exciting time that was the Diamond Jubilee. I wanted to be drowned in the spirit, Union Jacks flying over our heads, and a view of Buckingham Palace.

In reality what we got was a sea of tourists, too keen to respect children in their way, no view of Buckingham, because (dammit how did I forget!) there was an entire stage and its sitting area blocking the view, plus I got a bout of hay fever in St James Park and the Mall (even though I am not a Hay Fever sufferer).

We loved it no matter what, we walked and walked, we had lunch and walked some more. No buggies, really, no buggies and that was so cool… OK I did complain on a couple of occasion that we didn’t have the damn buggy… Especially when the tourists insisted on stepping over my children or the said children decided to run forever in the most crowded areas. But that was fine, we brought them home safe and very tired. A real parents’ dream who want to have an early evening to themselves.

2- Street Parties are the best thing ever

This was my first street party and I loved every minute of it.

Ok it wasn’t my street, so I got to meet people who are not my neighbours, but next time we visit our friends (the ones who live on that street) we’ll happily say hello to their neighbours, somehow feeling at home.

The spirit was great and you know, one thing makes me really fond of the British nation, is that not even heavy raindrops will stop a good Fiddle concert. As for me and my French friend we were quite happy watching from her windows by then, cheering with all our heart.

3- Taking the bus on a rainy bank holiday sucks!

The original idea was good. Really good in fact.
We were taking the bus to
a – Entertain the kids. They have rarely been on a double decker bus so that’s the coolest thing ever.
b – Solve the problem of parking the car. We assumed that if everyone who lived on the street where the party was, parked in the neighbouring streets that would leave no space for us.
c – Allow both parents to drink Pimms without so much moderation (as long as we remained sober enough to recognise our own children in the street that would be OK)

The reality turned out not so good.
The bus was late. Of course it was. Buses are always late! So not only we got wet while waiting 30 min, with in the background resounding “when is the bus coming?” “why is it late?” “V/E stop pushing/kicking/hitting me!!” “Mum, can you make the bus come now??”… HELL.ON.EARTH

Then we managed to sit right behind a lovely, yet very very annoying kid, whose mum was busy painting her nails while her son was poking mine and getting them to repeat obscene stuff such as “your mum is a poo-poo bum” or “I smell like poop”. Pretty disgraceful stuff. The boys being boys, were more than delighted to repeat any sentence, especially if it contained the word “poop” in it.

Of course we had to sit through another 30 min of waiting for the bus heading back home, thank goodness with the right kids (we controlled the Pimms intake beautifully) but through more rain.

4- I am living with two competitive boys (the third one probably waiting to discover the spirit)…

That’s my husband and E.
Give them a competition to build the best crown, an egg and spoon or sack race, hidden stuff to find to win a chocolate bar and OH.MY.GOD they are in it! But in it, to WIN IT!

So they won the crown competition, probably due to the fact that Craig spent a good couple of days planning the process, drafting the crown, purchasing material and cutting awkward shapes (that he gave up on and handed for me to do). The sticking of feathers and precious gems was left to the boys, under Craig’s supervision of course.

E then went on to win egg and spoon race, sack race and got second for another race (pardon me for forgetting what it was, by then I started to yawn). He came running to me to announce “Mummy, I WON SECOND!!” so I suppose all that counts is winning…

I have loved every minutes this 4 day weekend. It was full of fun and noone throws a party like the Queen, so my last words will be

God Saves the Queen!!

Ready, steady, FIGHT!!

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Something quite fascinating is happening in this house. I suppose it has something to do with the high level of testosterone hanging around. The boys are asserting their place in the pack. Two of them wanting to be top of it is obviously not working. I sometime feel like I am watching two cockerels fighting for something that usually has the shape of a car or a cardboard tube that they stole from a perfectly good wrapping paper roll, which at the end of the process, looks like a fine piece of rubbish!

They are at it all the time!

E is definitely making the most of his privilege of having been born first. It gives rights that you would be stupid to ignore. One of them for example is to twist your brother’s mind into giving up his biscuit or the iPad and making him think it is the best thing ever. The problem with this is that the younger brother is not so likely to believe such things now that he is getting older himself. Hence the house turns into a cage fighting scene at times.

It is fascinating to observe. We are currently in a prime location for anyone researching how a brood evolves with age, however not a great place to be in when your main role becomes the one of the referee. That’s mine by the way!

Not such fun…

My current main worry is to remain fair but also sane and articulate, refraining any swear words to come out of my mouth. That’s probably the hardest thing ever!

A weekend of achievements

This weekend, my two boys achieved something extraordinary each in their own way.

V finally joined in at Martial Arts. Like E after a very successful first lesson they decided that the sideline held their interest better than learning a few Kung fu moves…
I am being honest here, martial arts has always been the first sport I wanted to get them into. Not in a full on competitive type of mum who decides for her brood what to do. More because I like how martial arts make any individual not just boys, more confident and able to control their energy in a positive way.

Anyway this aside, both boys did the same thing of loving the first lesson, get signed up (with a commitment of 6 months minimum) and then decide that they don’t want to join in. It took well over 6 weeks for E before he decided to join in and every Saturday we had the same ritual of putting his kit on through floods of tears, give him hugs and reassurance, and bribe him quite a lot. Six weeks of making the heart wrenching decision not to give up, and sit on the sideline with him just watching and finally we were there! He joined in. Every week. With pleasure!

We thought V would be easier because he had his brother to follow. But no, for the last 3 weeks we have relived history. But this Saturday he went for it, slowly but surely.

As for E, his weekend was marked by one of this moment that change you forever. One that once you master it, you never forget… Riding a bike without stabilisers!! I wasn’t their to witness it unfortunately, but C filmed it and it was amazing. It took it like a fish to water and barely lost his balance from the word “go”!

We are very proud parents this evening. Extremely proud ones…

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Who’s the winner?

There was a time when both my sons used to play alongside each other, in one whole unified team, generally lead by Elliott.

Lately though a rebellious behaviour appeared in Victor’s attitude and everything becomes a fight. Everything causes an argument from who will get to the front door first shouting “I WIN I WIN!!” to whoever will sit on the toilet first in the morning, the loser not hesitating to pull the winner of the toilet seat if necessary…

It is exhausting.

I am tired of spending my days being a referee, no one said that would be my main job by now! Seriously dudes, cut the competition a little and maybe I will stop bitting my nails!

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Please stop asking, I do not WANT a girl, OK?!

Not that I don’t want a girl ever, just that I am not pinning for a girl. People so easily assume that because you have two boys you MUST want a girl.

You obviously need a shopping partner, someone’s hair to tie bows on and of course someone to dress in pink, right? Well, I don’t thank you very much.

Boys are cool. Boys don’t smell (most of the time). A boy’s world is adventurous, it is mystical, active and amazing. A girl’ s world is OK but I honestly think Barbie sucks and I far prefer gooey jelly like monsters.

Boys love their mummy so much that they call her princess until they meet their own princess I suppose. I am still their princess at the moment. There is not a day they don’t tell me I am gorgeous and they love me. There is nothing wrong with a bit of self loathing and I am enjoying it quite a lot to be honest.

Now if we ever have a third baby it will be a baby whether boy or girl, do you hear me people? No, I repeat NO, I will NOT be disappointed if we have a THIRD boy and yes I am feeling totally fine.

If it is a girl I will love her as much as I love my boys and she will be a blessing exactly like my two others are blessings… when they don’t try to destroy something or injure themselves that is.

Just accept that some women are really fine with having boys AND actually are you going to be shocked if I say that both time I really wanted boys? And I felt utter joy when I was told BOTH time they were. Actually if I am being honest I thought it was a bit rude of you to assume that I might have been disappointed when the second time round it was another boy. I really was “OK” with it. I promise I was and still am over the moon.

And who couldn’t love them really?

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Visit to A&E…

This morning, not long after I posted this I ended up rushing in the car, with my amazingly calm and collected brother in law, while I was in floods of tears because Victor fell backward from a sofa and cut his head…

I am not sure what made me so emotional. The fact that my baby was bleeding, the fact that he developed an egg the size of a golf ball straight away or the fact that the doctor, quite alarmingly, warned me of the symptoms that might develop in the next WEEK, and will mean that I’ll need to rush to hospital… Luckily he didn’t need stitches because the skin glued itself back together and the doctor didn’t want to touch it to avoid more bleeding.

The love you feel in these circumstances is frighteningly strong with the need to suck this pain out of his little body. I wish I could wrap him so tight with the hope that it grows a divine protection around him making him untouchable…

I love boys…

I was looking at my 2 boys today and I suddenly felt guilty… How mean can women be when they talk about men… Ok, surely they do deserve it at times… and at other times not…

Boys are not all smelly… or losers… or pigs… not most of them anyway.

I am part of the generation Bridget Jones and Girl Power, although Bridget Jones definitely didn’t have the Girl Power. Sex and the City was my reference like most girls now in their mid thirties. I had a sense of freedom and independence that I loved more than anything else. My evenings were made of 10 fags and a ready meal, while doing my nails and watching TV until really late. My weekends started on Thursday evenings with drinks after work and ended on Sunday evening with hangover food and early night. Back then men were just trouble!

I met more pigs and losers (thank god not all boyfriends) than anyone would need in about 10 lives and still I believed that true love and mutual respect wasn’t just a legend.

So many of my girlfriends experienced the same type of life and relationships…

And when women meet women they do talk about men! So if all women sitting around a table have got stories of being treated with utter disrespect of course they will talk about how disgusting men are! I was one of them… I did say nasty things about men and I did put them all in the same categories. When I was hurt or saw one of my friends hurt, I did pronounce words of hater towards men that I won’t repeat here… Isn’t it natural?

I think that this (still fairly new) trend is turning a bit into what machism is to men, don’t you think? Come on what we say is as unreasonable as what they say. After all, men are not all jerks the same as all women are not born to pleasure men and make their life easier (sorry guys)!

So many books are written about women like me and my friends, who meet one jerk after another. In all women magazines you read articles about sad relationships when the woman has been treated unfairly. You don’t seem to read so much about how men can sometime be treated badly by us women, do you? I am sure that each and every woman has experienced a situation when she has hurt a man who really liked her. I do! I didn’t do it intentionally but I did.

Today I am worried… if us, mothers of young boys and girls, who will be those adults of tomorrow, if we do not change our jokes and lines about men, does it mean that we will encourage future women to believe men are pigs?

What I would like to say to all the future women out there, is that:

Yes, they will be hurt and yes they will learn from it. They will figure out what they want and don’t want as they go along. Some will take longer than others to meet their life partner, but please never be bitter about men and love.

We are all individuals with qualities and flaws and we don’t all get on. Sometimes we are treated with disrespect and this is wrong, but it is up to you to decide whether you are closing the door to anyone else, risking to be lonely and bitter for the rest of your life, or leaving it open to someone nice and caring who will contribute to making your life beautiful…

And to all future men out there: treat us with care and respect. Be a gentleman and make us feel special and you can’t go wrong!