Car-less Whisper

Twinkle, twinkle chocolate bar,

My Mummy drives a rusty car,

Start the engine, pull the choke,

Off she goes in a puff of smoke!

Twinkle, twinkle chocolate bar,

My Mummy drives a rusty old car!

So this week my car wouldn’t move……..The first guy -  from the AA’s ‘partners’ (felt a bit like a community support officer)  said it was a suspected snapped clutch cable, but my rusty old car doesn’t have a clutch cable, it’s all done by hydrolics people! The next day the real AA man came (a proper copper but no Gene Hunt) full of smiling efficiency.  He said it was the thingy , you know the whatits – he told me, it made sense, I understood it…..then……now I have no idea. My poor little brain can’t hold that kind of information no motivation I guess.

Cars don’t really interest me, I don’t recognise any of my friends or collegues cars, I wouldn’t be able to tell you who had parked where and who’d blocked who in…….I do recognise mini’s (obviously iconic) and capri’s (first boyfriend with a car, what an old banger that was…but quite sweet memeories of near constantly being towed home!) -  I’m pretty sure I couldn’t recognise another car by shape, I can read of course so this is n’t really a problem.

My brother at three years old could name every car we drove past, I thought it was impressive even then. Me? no interest at all then, no interest at all now.

Well, not exactly no interest, when they go wrong I’m interested,  more bothered.

 I did miss my car  – hardly surprising, modern life is driven -  it just has to be and much as I wish it wasn’t it seems like a fantasy to be without a car given the time pressure we are all under. Everything had to slow, slow right down without my car. It took me 2 hours to get to work, less after the first day cause I got picked up from the station near work. It took nearly 2  hours to get home, despite a lift to the station because I had to walk to nursery and then to school and then home no other way to do it.

So, you think I would have been a bit fed up, actually it was like a mini-holiday. I had to leave work on time in order to get to nursery / school before  they closed.  I read the paper in the morning and cleaned out my phone in the evening, went through my purse, had a little think, slowed down  and  actually it was very relaxing. I had a gentle hour stroll home in the evening, throwing ‘helicopters’ with my son and the sun remained shining.

Responsibility was taken out of my hands, so my partner had to get the boy’s to breakfast club and nursery and get me to the station – so I guess it wasn’t much fun for him, and obviously I can’t leave work on time all the time to much to do and we do get the ocassional drop of rain in Manchester.

Obviously careful what you wish for, but my car-less whisper was a sigh of relief.  

I love a party, where they have the atmosphere

It’s my kid’s party and I’ll cry if I want to!

I heard on the news recently that the average children’s party apparently costs around £500 – it seems an extraordinary amount. My dad who, has always been a voice of doom and is somewhat in his element currently, constantly reminded me that,’ bad times are coming’ even before the recent, ‘credit crunch’ and possible ‘double dip’ recession finds this figure staggering, if it were up to him a party would consist of out of date tunnocks snowballs, stick chasing and playing the radio. (His party speciality is curried eggs)

Not true actually, I had fantastic parties as a kid, ‘Disco’ in the dinning room with my mum organising games with balloons and handing out refresher lollies to the best disco dancers and  my dad dishing out the hot dogs. Me - glitter eye shadow and a side pony tail blowing out the candles of a Cash and Carry Cake.

I have a friend who basically dropped  out of circulation for a while due to the sheer number of parties her 4year ols was being invited too every weekend………quite a competition!

Here in South Manchester there is no shortage of professionals who will take the stress out of organising your child’s birthday party for you. None of it comes cheap, but mostly it takes a lot of the stress and hassle away.

My three year old went to a party at a house recently and I said,’ You are brave!’ to the mum, who had labelled the fruit shoot bottles and had a big bag of prizes and a bouncy castle. However this mum has a big house, with mostly wipe down surfaces, she has 4 kids including a set of twins and does the school run and life in a way which appears effortless. She wasn’t being brave she was just getting on and being a mum.

So for my son’s 4^th birthday party. I didn’t spend five hundred quid but I did really want it to be a hit! It surely won’t be too long till he is permanently embarrassed by me and I want to savour spending time with him now…in a few years time he’ll be asking for money to take his mates dry slope skiing or go carting or laser shooting.

I hired a hall and a magician. I served carrot sticks and organic raisins. I bought fair trade treats for the party bags and even had a go at making a space cake (no not the kind we had as students, just one with Lunar Jim on it!)

My mum can’t understand why I hired the magician, she knows I’m quite capable of pressing pause on the stereo to play musical statues or bumps. She also knows I know all the words to the Okey Cokey – and that’s what it’s all about!

My baby is one this month and I think it’ll be a quiet affair, family tea and a little cake with single candle…….  

Jungle in the Classroom

‘It’s my Ben 10 watch!’ said my boy to the four coolest kids in the class - the kids he really wanted to play with.

‘My watch’ he said again bouncing towards them with an enthusiasm only seen in the under fives and showing off a jam jar lid stuck to a strip of card that we had just made together on the creative table.

‘Waps?’ the leaders face scoffed,’What’s a waps?’ he slowly looked around at the others with a smug look on his face.

‘No watch’ (pronounced again waps) said my little one completely unaware that this child was using him as the fool to make himself king, and only thinking that like him that this boy struggled to say words properly.

‘Waps! Ha ha ha!’ said the child his face contorted to a sneer that really should never be seen on a three year old.

I wondered where he had seen that look and why he thought such cruelty was funny, I imagined his father, tramping over the little guy, getting a range of somewhat timid laughs from those around him knowing next time the joke might be on them, then again he could just have been a normal kid from a normal home who had (duh, duh der, - older siblings…….

I dreaded the day my beautiful son’s innocence would be gone like that, when he would understand the power we all have to hurt others, I could see the day racing towards us just a few more encounters like this and poof!

I had to go over, I didn’t want my boy to realise that he was the joke. Almost Mamma Bear like, (almost but smiling not growling) I walked over.

‘Would you like a watch? – shall we make you one?’ I said to the scowling and unashamed child – he just stared at me, like I’d spoiled all the fun and finally spat,’No’.

My heart was breaking, I could not believe that three year olds were behaving like this, such sophisticated spitefulness. Fortunately a bit too sophisicated for my three year old to grasp so in a way he was protected from it ….. not like the time someone said he was two when he was three which provoked untold anger or the time someone said he liked vegetables when he doesn’t like vegetables or that he deosn’t like football when he does like football – clearly the ‘your mum’ for the nursery generation.

How was I ever to protect him?

Then it hit me – I couldn’t. I never could he would be subject to cruelty, sadness, random acts of meaness, injustices and he probably would be involved in dishing a bit out as well, because after all no one’s perfect and most of us have done a thing or two we’re ashamed of ( – Joanne Mottram apologies from me now for trying to make you say durex instead of dulex and the many paint based hilarious conversations I tried to start!)

Going Back to Work

I am in the process of completing my child care arrangments for my return to work. It’s exciting, I ‘ve been back to work but my mum, the great Grandma Ellie came to look after the kids helped by my in law the equally great Nannie. Work was challenging and I loved it, my brain firng again in a different way to being at home and I could actually forget about the boys knowing they not just happy but being doted on.

My mum’s take on this was it was fine for a couple of weeks but she could now see the absolute craziness of having children in your sixties and wished all the luck in the world to those unfortunate woman who chose that plan!

I tried to negotiate some flexibility in my working hours – I work 4 days and wanted to do 5 mornings and 3 afternoons, so I could still pick up from school twice a week but no dice! Bit of a cock and bull story from the powers that be but that’s what happens to both mother’s and part time workers alike. I’m not fighting this battle just now.

Now remember I work part time also remember my in laws do childcare for one day a week so I’m only looking at paying for 3 days a week, also remember my eldest son is at school, also remember that son will attend a non-profit making co-operative for out of hours school care, also remember I have only 2 children……..

Right you got all that ………

My monthly child care costs will be just short of seven hundred quid!

I guess a lot of you out there are paying a lot more you know cause of the remember this and remember that bit. Blimey. Actually Double Blimey!

It is in effect another mortgage, it’s nearly half my salary and I’m not sure how we will manage. That’s not being over dramatic and I’m not very good with money at all so my fibberdy-jibberdy ways of trying to cut back probably are n’t going to cut it in the slightest.

My partner says that fifteen quid a present for every birthday party the 3 year old goes to is four hundred and fifty quid a year. The fiver a week football session is probably going to have to go. We already use second hand toys and clothes mostly donated by my gorgeous nephew but some from ebay. I guess we could cut back on the cook. Oh hang on that’s me, so maybe the cleaner. Only kidding that’s me too – even the window cleaner is me!

The holidays are just gone I expect for the next few years.

I mean I know it’s worth it, and I love the time I get to spend with my family and I love, love, love my boys. I have a lot to be thankful for but I can’t help thinking this is going to be hard……….