DS has Verbal Dyspraxia, so every Thursday morning we trot down to the local Health Centre for a spot of Speech therapy.
We have a lovely therapist who puts up with DS’s general moodiness and usually lets him boss her around as long as he’s doing some work, and it all works quite nicely. Of course come September, we’ll be sending him to an out-of-borough school and so will no longer be eligible for any NHS funded therapy, but that’s a different blog post.
DS’s speech has come on brilliantly over the last year or so. Here he is in the park yesterday.
90% of the time individual words come out perfectly coherently. It’s when he tries to put a sentence together that things are mumbled. He’s still struggling with ‘j’ and ‘tr’ sounds but he can say pretty much everything else. Ironically, his name begins with a J. read more
I still struggle a little with what to call underwear in the UK. I have this problem with a few words that mean slightly different things in the UK. Lollies and chips are two of them, but pants is the one most likely to cause embarrassment. Back home, in NZ, pants are trousers; we refer to underwear as undies, for both boys and girls. The word knickers is also used.
I learnt early on not to walk into a room and ask the people present if they liked my new pants. Especially when the people concerned included my MIL to be. I also got told off by a friend for referring to boys’ underwear as knickers, when trying to toilet train DS. Knickers refers to girls’ underwear, apparently. Bizarrely enough, DS did seem a lot better on the toileting front once I started using the correct terminology. read more
When I was 8 years old, something strange happened.
The blackboard started going blurry when I was trying reading it, and I was having to sit closer and closer to the front of the class to be able to see anything. The teacher had noticed my behaviour and suggested my mother take me for an eye test. I was too scared to tell my mother myself; I thought I was probably going blind and was terrified they would give me a white stick. In hindsight I should have been more worried about the awful gold rimmed glasses I was issued with.
They completed a trifecta ensuring I remained the least popular girl in the school; I was fat, I was painfully shy and now I was a Fatty Four Eyes. read more
If this is not your first time reading my blog, you may gathered I’m not the most organised of mums. I try, but I often fail. And today was another fail, so I’m feeling rather sorry for myself. Which is not good news for my Moodscope score.
It didn’t help that I woke up feeling low. I’ve had a hard week for a variety of reasons and it seems to have caught up with me overnight.
Then I came downstairs to a bunch of rowdy kids who wanted to watch TV. The trouble was they couldn’t find the SKY remote. It’s supposed to live on top of the TV unit but can be more often found stuffed down the side of the sofa. It drives me crazy, not least because often when they ‘can’t find it’, it’s because they haven’t really looked. read more
We are not having much luck with hamsters in this house.
Last night the kids had Hammy Pawper out in his ball, as we’ve got into the habit of doing. Of course I was supervising, i.e sitting at my computer NaNoWriMoing, but it all seemed fine.
The Lurcher was in the room but was showing very little interest, just moving out of the way when Hammy tried to run her down. The biggest hazard to HP’s health was DD3,who was following the ball round and round the room and had to be told repeatedly not to pick him up.
Of course, it all ended badly. The next time DD3 picked the ball and hamster up, DD2 made a grab for her pet and the ball was dropped. Of course it broke open and Hammy dashed under the sofa. read more
My kids are quite self sufficient, even DS can mostly dress himself, but I insist on ‘finishing off’ their teeth and my younger DD always needs help with her hair.
She has a longish bob but often manages to get it into knots overnight. It’s probably because they have a bath last thing at night and she goes to bed with wet hair.
I don’t know why, but the last couple of mornings she has woken up with absolutely enormous knots in the back of her hair. They are fist sized, and take a good ten minutes of picking and teasing apart with a comb before they can be brushed out normally. read more
For the last month or so, I’ve been vaguely contemplating taking up some kind of exercise. I already walk the dogs daily, and heft myself on the exercise bike sometimes but am feeling the need for Something More.
The secret of successful exercising is, of course, finding an activity you enjoy and can do without too much preparation. I used to enjoy the gym for the variety, but the gym DH and I belong to at the moment is a 10 min car journey away with no hope of finding a parking space. It has a lovely pool there and I do love to swim, but it’s just Too Much Trouble. I’m too big and my knee is too knackered to run. However I’m tempted by Zumba and that might be one for the future. read more
At first, Hama beads appear to be a harmless, even educational toy that allow your little darlings to get in touch with their creative side while entertaining them quietly for half an hour or so.
But there are things you should know about Hama beads. Read on, and be informed!
For those of you who were, up until now, blissfully unaware of the existence of Hama beads, let me explain.
Hama beads are tiny beads that come in every colour of the rainbow.