Being a Mum to 2 Boys, Embracing Blue

You know you are a mum of boys when . . .

You have to negotiate around obstacles that they have set up around the house such as belt trip wires dressing gown tie door handle traps.

The seat is never down and cleaning the toilet is now a 3x daily occurrence.

You sigh when people ask if you are going to try and make your next one pink.

You sigh even deeper when people say the old adage 'a son is a son till he takes a wife'.

You know all the names of all the superheroes and you know the difference between James, Henry and Thomas. James is a miserable git.

Your fridge is never full, even though you fill it daily.

Your heart melts when you are given a posy of daisies.

Nobody can ever speak to you on the phone during the hours of 7am - 7pm due to the overwhelming noise of screaming, shouting and whining.

You know how to correctly pronounce Ninjago and Bakugan.

The back seat of the car is littered with odd socks, crumbs and jam like sticky marks.

You threaten having to go to hospital daily when negotiating with them to get down from terrifying heights.

 Talk about poo and farts replaces polite dinner table conversation.

You are not fazed when you walk into your livingroom and your butt naked boy is using his winky as a sword.

Everything can be a sword. (see above)

You have stopped the car randomly at the side of the road to look at horses and construction vehicles.

You have rediscovered nature. You now know more about living things and science than you did when you were in school.

Your life is complete and you are starting to think that pink is overrated.

100 Happy Days

To be honest, I didn't blog about doing this because I really didn't think I would do it. Like pretty much everything else in my life, I thought I would start it and be passionate about it for a few weeks only for my enthusiasm to wane and eventually give it up a few weeks in. But hey! I surprised myself. Tomorrow is my Day 100 and guess what? I am pretty happy.

The point of 100 happy days was not as some Facebook trolls suggest, a means of bragging or attention seeking but a way to point out the little things in life that make me happy everyday. What I have learned in the last 100 days is pretty profound. I have realised who makes me happy, where my joy lies. I have learned about my priorities in life. Looking back on my phone photos each night was an interesting process. Weeding out the dross in my mind and replacing it with an image that encapsulates a moment of happiness has provided me with a more positive outlook on life.

When my friend Angela posted on Facebook about the project I was a bit sceptical about whether this would a) last and b) make any difference to my mood. The space of time between giving birth to Jamie and starting the project was a difficult time. Not because of any mental health issue this time (thankfully) but just because I was feeling bogged down in that new mum territory where all I do is lose sleep, change nappies, feed children, clean up mess, discipline my 3 year old, shout, swear, shout some more, feel guilty, beat myself up a bit about being useless, feed them again, clean again, feel undervalued by my husband who comes in from work to the chaotic mess that I have tried so hard to prevent all day.

I had lost sight of the light. One of the most prominent lessons I have learned is that even on the darkest days there is always light. You might need to try a bit harder and look a bit closer to see it but it's there on the horizon. I look into the eyes of my children, the warmth of touch from my husband, the sunset or rise, the ways the clouds move, the unconditional love of a pet, the acceptance of family, the closeness of friends, the escapism of music, the taste of a favourite food and the wonder of life as a child would see it.

That is where my joy lies.

I am happy. I love and I am loved.

Here's to the next 100 days . . .

Check out my Instagram feed for my 100 Days of Happy 

Some of my Favourites

"You won't be stupid enough to breastfeed your second baby!"

Yeah, you read that title right.

When she said that I took a sharp intake of breath too and wondered who the hell she thought she was.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time I'd heard this statement from someone. Before all the bottle feeding readers click away, I'll make my stance clear - I'm pro choice. I don't really give a crap what anyone does. I believe that parenting, like religion and politics is one of the most polarising topics to discuss and within the realm of parenting issues, bottle V breast has to be one of the most contentious.

I made a choice to breastfeed. My reasons are my own. I believed it to be the best option for me and my baby. I don't judge others for choosing to bottle feed but if someone asks me what I felt was best for me then every time my answer is breast.

You don't have to look far to witness the breastfeeding propaganda that new mothers are surrounded by. In my maternity hospital waiting room I counted 16 posters all referring to the benefits. I think that ramming it down everyone's throats is actually having the opposite effect. Bottle feeding parents often complain to me about how they are made to feel that they are damaging their child, selfish and useless. That they are judged by the breast brigade to be inadequate. I believe that there are a number of people out there who do perpetrate these opinions, I am not one of them.

It appears though that it doesn't matter which feeding option you choose, you are judged. In my experience as a breastfeeding mother I have had to put up with many negative comments about my choice. From the opinion of the above person who feels that I was 'stupid' to breastfeed first time round as JC had terrible colic, was fussy and didn't sleep well (obviously all of this was caused by my breastfeeding making him clingy and attached) to the 'It's just a bit gross' group who are uncomfortable with the thought of snuggling a baby to your breast (and God forbid you do this in public, I mean who wants to see something so perverse!).

I had a great experience of breastfeeding JC, it wasn't easy and it took perseverance but for me and him it was the right decision. In the darkest days of my post natal depression, it was all the held us together. It kept the bond between us intact. Many postnatally depressed mum's talk about a lack of attachment to their baby, I never felt that thankfully and I think that was due to the feeding. I think it's hard to explain the feeling (a bit like trying to describe an orgasm to a virgin) but there was something so magical in those wee small hours when sitting in a darkened room feeding your baby. The knowing that I was sustaining and nurturing him with my own body. He used to curl his fingers round my pinkie finger and squeeze it while suckling. These were the happiest times for me. I remember when he turned 8 months and started to refuse the breast, opting for a cup of milk instead, I cried. Proper heavy hearted snortling cries because I knew that I had to let go of that special connection with him that had been a crutch for me during the tough times.

I expect the first few weeks of breastfeeding this second baby to be hard work. I am prepared for the cracked bleeding nipples, the possibility of mastitis and the feeding in toilets and the car because you are made to feel dirty for feeding in public. Equally, I am excited about regaining my figure in a timely fashion through the natural uterine contractions that feeding stimulates and that close bond I am going to feel with my new baby.

The first feed - breasts like bloody melons! 

So I guess I am stupid enough to breastfeed again and I don't give a shit what anyone thinks of me!

A House or a Home?

When we decided to move to a bigger house we really struggled to sell our old house due to the decline in the market. In the end we decided to keep hold of the house and let it out. After we went through the process of registering as a landlord, sorting things out with the mortgage company and selecting from our home insurance comparison list, we were all set and ready to go. What I hadn't quite prepared myself for was how I would feel emotionally.

This was our first real home together. The house we left from to get married. The house we first owned pets in. The house we set up for a home birth that never happened. The house I walked the floors of through the night with a screaming baby. The house that my son took his first independent steps in. The house where the kitchen floor was constantly covered in the remnants of JC’s dinner during the weaning phase. The house we laughed in, cried in, screamed in and smiled in.  So many memories held within the walls. It felt uncomfortable to let go.

The handing over of keys to the new tenants was a really hard day. As I passed them into their hands, I felt a lump building in my throat as I said “enjoy it”. On my first inspection visit to the property I felt a sense of joy as I walked through the door to find the property had a new feel. There were new memories being made there. No more or less loved than when we lived there but just different. It had and always will have a special place in my heart.

Disclaimer: This is a sponsored post but that does not mean it wasn't fun to read. All thoughts and opinions are my own. 

Life is for the Living

Don't you cry for lost, 

Smile for the living, 

Get what need and give what you're given.

Life's for the living, so live it

Or you're better of dead. 

Mike Rosenberg

It's a true enough saying that if you wait for someone else to make you happy that you will always be miserable. I feel like this rings true for me. Last week I wrote about how I had been a bit of a moaner lately. It's not that I'm imagining it, things have crappy and it can bring you down. However, I think that sometimes we get bogged down in the future worries and the past regrets to the point that we fail to enjoy and live in the moment. 

I have been practising yoga over the past few months which I am enjoying immensely. One of the aspects that I like about yoga is the concept of being in the moment. It must be an enlightening experience to be able to 'just be'. I find during meditation that my mind wanders. It fluctuates between what has gone, the endless replaying of the day and the what is still to be, the worries and anxieties of things that haven't even happened yet. I aspire towards the quiet mind that can focus on the here and now.

I spend a great proportion of my time dwelling on things. I'm a big thinker. I mull things over and churn them around in my mind until they are mush. I guess maybe I should try to think less. I expend a lot of energy thinking and planning and not a great deal of my time or energy in the actual 'doing' phase. I guess you could say I procrastinate. I would like to change this about myself. 

I don't want to spend time dwelling over the losses. I want to appreciate the joy in what I have. I don't just want to have ideas and think things through I want to seize the moment and actually follow through. I do not want to depend on or look to others to fulfil me or make me happy. I'm trying to be more present. YOLO and all that jazz. 

Preparing Our Children For Rejection

We all think so highly of our children. I know that before I was a mum I would criticise parents who blew their child's trumpet. There's nothing worse when you are sitting in a toddler group with a bunch of overly competitive mothers (or fathers) going on and on about how little Johnny was blinking when he needed the potty at 4 months old or how little Mary had a 1000 word vocabulary by her first birthday. I have to admit it though, I do it too. I often catch myself too late. The words are often out my mouth before I realise how boastful I sound!


Now I'm not saying that it is wrong to think your children are wonderful or to have high aspirations for them in life but I do think that there is a danger area which may lead to disappointment for our children when they are older.

When I was a child my parents thought I was going to be famous. I had a really nice singing voice and was very dramatic, in more ways than one! I was encouraged and told I was wonderful from the day and hour I was born.They ploughed money into musical activities as they knew it was a passion of mine. My Mum and Dad were realistic though. They prepared me for failure as well as success by emphasising the need for an education first and supporting me during the inevitable suffering of auditions. I was lucky to be picked for a few main roles in musical theatre and school plays early on which boosted my confidence but the first audition that I was told 'thanks but no thanks', I was devastated. My parents had a knack for keeping my dreams harnessed in reality. It must have been even harder for them to watch their daughter, who they viewed to be extremely talented and gifted to be told she wasn't good enough. They never let it show. Not once did I feel like I was a disappointment to them but equally they never let me feel like I should be automatically entitled to anything. They instilled in me a quiet, humbled confidence and plenty of resilience.

I saw this news story the other day about a parent who is 'priming' her daughter for success. She spends thousands of pounds on her grooming and classes to prepare her for fame. After reading the article I felt sad for the little girl. Nothing is life is guaranteed and I've seen so many talented and hard working people who just haven't made it. Isn't this potentially setting this child up to be disappointed and to feel like she is a failure to her mother?

I think the Xfactor culture doesn't help matters. The celebrity culture from reality TV is now what children aspire to. More and more when I ask kids in my class 'what do you want to be when you grow up?' The answer is famous.In schools, when auditions are held for performances, what I've seen in the past few years is really eye opening. From children crying and telling you sad stories (like they do on Xfactor) in an attempt to sway a decision to their parents phoning after the decision, outraged that their child hasn't got a part or didn't get the 'right' part.

In the real world, if you don't get a job you can't go crying in the interview to make them choose you or get your mum to phone the Manager to complain that you are better skilled than someone else who applied. So what message are we giving to our children about handling rejections?

So now I'm going to boast about my child . . .

JC is already showing an interest in music. He has no choice really, he is surrounded by instruments in our house and already has his own mini acoustic guitar, drum kit and Santa is bringing him a keyboard for Christmas. He has great tuning and already sings lots of songs from memory. He is a handsome chap and shows early signs of being creative and outgoing. He's a Leo star sign which if you believe in astrology is the perfect sign for an entertainer! I think John Connor/JC is a fab name for a musician. So I really should start looking into stage schools now.

I'm being sarcastic obviously! Seriously though, I hope that like my parents did for me, I can support and encourage him to do whatever he wants do. I will provide him with the opportunities to learn and develop his skills in whatever area interests him. I want to teach him to follow his dreams and be optimistic as well as realistic. I will be there to support him when he does experience rejection and help him to try again. My greatest dream for him is that he is a kind, happy and well rounded adult. If he can achieve this in life, I will feel like I've done a good job.

A Slice of Sanity - 154/366

It's been an awful few weeks, hence the lack of blogging and 366 posts this week. There's been tears and tiredness and a whole lot of heartache but I won't elaborate on it at the moment if you don't mind! I did manage to escape the madness for some afternoon tea with my good friend Alana whose chat and witty humour drew out some semblance of sanity. Well, she is a clinical psychologist so who better to ease my mind! 

Glass Houses and Boulders

I was thinking about the saying 'people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones'. My gran used to say this to me all the time. She taught me that you get back what you give out in life. She spoke of being kind to people and treating them the way you would want to be treated yourself. She used to say 'be the change you want to see in the world' and 'the people you meet on the way up the ladder and the ones who greet you on the way down'. These are two of my favourite sayings and I try to live by the morals of these sayings.

Sometimes I feel sad that we live in a world where it's acceptable, or indeed encouraged, to bad mouth, criticise and treat others badly. To look down on other people and judge them as less of a person than you. That it's ok to laugh at people and gossip about them behind their backs, or if you're brave enough, to their face.

I've had a few stones crack the glass on my house recently and repairing it is not an easy process. It seems unfair though that some people go through their lives throwing boulders from their glass houses and never seem to have so much as a pebble as return fire.

Just a thought ...

It's those little moments

The warmth of his soft skin against mine.

The fresh smell of his hair.

The soothing sound of his relaxed breath.

Breathing together at exactly the same time, perfectly in tune with each other.

His fingers wrapped around mine, gripping firmly as though to secure me to him.

The slight tilt of his head at an angle so that his face can touch mine.

It's in these small moments that I feel overwhelmed with so much love.

I just want to hold him here forever.

And he's just sitting watching TV.

Letting go of the Mummy Reins

I took this picture on my day off last week when we went out for a nice winter walk

It's been a big adjustment going back to work and my main expectation was that my biggest problem with being a working mum would be that fact that I would miss him. I worried about missing out on the big moments, the 'firsts' that might occur when I was out at work.

I'm only working 3 days a week and I like the balance. I do miss him but I find that I am so busy fitting everything into my reduced week that I rarely have time to worry about it. As yet, I haven't missed any big moments as most of the really 'big' things like first steps and words have already happened. So imagine my surprise when out of the blue this week I end up in tears again over this subject.

I didn't expect this to upset me but it did.

Here is some background  - My Mother in Law does some of my childcare and a childminder does the other days. I guess I haven't been spending as much quality time with him as I usually do due to the move, working and finishing up with the band. So here's what happened.

At the weekend, he fell and hurt himself and when I was trying to comfort him he started pushing me away. He didn't want me to comfort him, he wanted his Gran. He has spent a lot of time with her this week and the relationship between them is really strengthening (which I love and encourage but it still pulled at my heartstrings when this happened).

Then after I had been out working all night in the band and I didn't see him for over 24 hours he didn't really care when I walked in to pick him up. He just giggled and ran away. He used to run to me and give me hugs. He used to light up when I entered the room but that seems to have gone.

Then today I went to pick him up from the childminder but when he saw me he started crying. He knew I was there to pick him up. He didn't want to leave. When I tried to get him in the car he took a huge tantrum. I cried all the way home in the car, big sobs. I feel like I am losing my special relationship with him and I don't know why or what to do about it.

I suppose I could look at it in a positive way. I can be thankful that he has really strong relationships with other important adults in his life, that he is secure enough to know that I am coming back, that he doesn't cling around my leg as I'm leaving which would subsequently fill me with guilt for the rest of the day. I suppose I should think that this is temporary and that when I move house I will have more time to spend with him. I should focus on those times when he gives me the 'love' look, gives me kisses and hugs me when he is tired. But it's hard and I'm struggling to come to terms with my feelings. So after his bath when we sit in our rocking chair with his milk and story, I will be holding him a little closer tonight.

Keep your Moans in Perspective

I felt like moaning today.

Let me paint you a picture . . .

We're moving house and it's all very chaotic. Every box I pack, JC is right behind me pulling out whisks, spatulas and other household objects. 

JC is climbing, he loves heights, I am trying to run around behind him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself.

I'm back at work and I've had parents nights this week - always a stressful event for any teacher.

My band is 'breaking up'. Okay so it's not on a Westlife or Take That scale but it's still full of emotions and crushed feelings. It's all very disappointing and sad. 

JC keeps feeding Kaiya. She has a sensitive stomach so now she is vomiting up JC's snacks all over the house. He could be a ninja, he's so sneaky. 

Some evil person hacked Hubby's XBox account and run up £170 of purchases until we figured out what was happening. Not a great time to lose money when every penny is being counted for our move.

My husband thinks that the best contribution he can make to the move effort is to play his new XBox game upstairs in the bedroom as he is 'keeping out the way'. Saying that he did do the garden today so he might have to take the rest of the week off. 

But, I have plenty to be cheerful about too. 

I have a beautiful child who is happy, healthy and full of spirit. 

I have a husband who cares about me and looks after me. At least I know he is upstairs playing computer games and not down the pub getting up to who knows what. (He also makes a great cup of tea and he makes me laugh)

The stolen money will be replaced by Microsoft eventually, it's a short term problem. 

I have a large, loving family who support and help me by listening to my moans. 

I am moving to my new house next week and everything is signed and sealed. 

I have a secure job that I enjoy. My school kids are like my adopted children and I love them all very much. Parents night is a great night to hear about how parents and children appreciate the work I do. 

Kaiya will recover once JC learns that he can't feed her, this like all stages will pass. 

The band has been a source of great anxiety, time and pressure in my life and I will notice a positive difference when it ends. 

See, I feel better now. It's all about perspective. 

Check out more cheerfulness with Michelle's Blog Hop being hosted by Kate this week. 

I sometimes don't like people and want to live in a cave

This has been a blog post waiting to happen for quite a while. It's not going to be a rant. Well, I'm not going to make any promises!

I've had a right week of it, dealing with the less attractive attributes of people - and that is putting it politely. Now I'm not saying that my halo is sparkling, I am sure I have my faults which irritate and annoy people but I like to think I try my best.

Sometimes I wish to be a hermit who shuns the world and lives in a cave. I think that the benefits of cave living would be food for the soul for me at the moment.

I am a bit fed up with the negativity and bitchiness from a lot of people in my life. I am a runner (not in the fitness sense) and an escapist. When I was young I would disappear into a book and live an alternative life through the characters. It's hard to do that now as the world keeps pushing itself in and distracting me from the wonder of the text.  It would be great to do a Shirley Valentine and just disappear but it's not as easy as that when you are a mum. You can't just run away. You have to stay and fight and work hard to give them the best experience of life you can whilst trying to protect them from the nastiness of people they will undoubtedly come across.

I fell into teaching by accident but prior to that I studied psychology as I have always been fascinated my human behaviour. Equally though, I have always been flabbergasted by how terribly we can treat each other.

Treat other people how you would like to be treated and you can't go too far wrong. Unless of course you are some sort of sadist.

 

A Woman of Many Hats

I am a woman of many hats. I have been finding it difficult to manage my hats recently. I have just gone back to work as a primary school teacher 3 days a week after a year of maternity leave. BJC (Before JC) I was a very career driven, ambitious person who thought nothing of staying at work until stupid o’clock. However, since returning to work on my new part timer status, I am finding it difficult to see where I fit in. I am not the same person I was a year ago. I’m trying not to be gushy but this is the truth, motherhood has changed me. I don’t recognise myself anymore. I am stuck in the in-between unsure of who I am and what I want.

Some people would tell you that you can have a career and a good family life but for me, I don’t believe this to be true. I don’t think you can have both at the same time or least I don’t think I can. I need to focus my energy on one area. I have always wore many hats but they have always been styled towards enhancing my CV or my personal development. My new hats are all about being a better mum for my boy. At the moment my focusses are losing weight so that I am healthier, moving nearer family, sorting out our finances, spending quality time together and giving JC a wide range of experiences. 

I can feel the grip I had on my career slipping away and being replaced by poo in the bathtub and gummy smiles. I won’t lie, it’s quite scary. I don’t really know how I feel about. It’s a bit like being on a rollercoaster at the top of a drop. You can see what’s coming and you know deep down that you will be OK but it’s scaring the shit out of you anyway. 

Versatile Blogger Award

The talented Sarah over at People Don't Eat Enough Fudge as given me the award of Versatile Blogger.Thank You! It has taken me a while to get around to reading the posts around this and decide what to write for mine! Being back at work is severely eating into my blogging mindspace and time! How Dare It!

Sarah is a very versatile blogger herself, she is a prolific writer who writes openly and honestly about her life as well as treating her readers to some fab creative writing through the meme Write on Wednesdays. I really enjoy Sarah's blog and I like the comments she leaves on my blog posts. You can tell she has read it for a start and that she has thought about and digested what I have written. I like that in a reader!

So what do I have to do for this award?
1 - Thank and link to the person who awarded you
2 - Share 7 things about yourself
3 - Link to 15 other blogs who you would like to give this award to

1 - See first paragraph!
2 - eek this will be hard

* I have a fascination with toilets. Every time I go to a new place I have to visit the loo. You can tell a lot about a place by visiting the toilets!







* I go through lots of Fads - photography, guitar, keep fit, hypnosis, piano, diets, yoga, writing, blogging!
I have started a few blogs as my 'fad of the week' but this is the only one I stuck at!








* I really want a rabbit but I am kind of scared of them

* I would like to live in France at some point in my life and drink lots of wine and eat pain au chocolate for breakfast (not the wine for breakfast) - hey, who doesn't?

* I scream really loudly on rollercoasters and waterslides - even before the move! It's quite embarrassing!






* Despite being a primary school teacher, I hate chalk and I don't really like apples, sorry to quash the stereotype.

* I don't like chocolate ice cream or chocolate cake but I love hot chocolate and bars of chocolate. I'm a chocist.







3 - In no particular order, I'd like to award these fellow bloggers the Versatile Blogger Award
Kate over @ Kate Takes 5, Liska @NewMumOnline, Lynne @Ooh Baby All Things Cuteable, Heather @SAHM loving it, Laura @YummyMummy FlabbyTummy, Gemma @Helloit'sGemma, Michelle @MummyFromTheHeart, Rachel @This Mid 30s Life, Penny @AlexanderResidence, Susan @SusanKMann, Nazima @WorkingLondonMummy, Wendy @Insidethewendyhouse, Katie @MummyDaddyMeMakesThree, Hannah @Mummyandthebeastie and last but not least Kerry @MultipleMummy

Babies Behind Bars

I used to live next door to a prison.

HMP Cornton Vale is a closed women's prison for remand and sentenced women. I would often look over to the prison and wonder what it was like inside. I have a bit of a strange fascination with prisons despite never being in one. I would see the women in the independent living houses coming outside to do normal things like take out their rubbish and weed their front gardens. One thing that never really crossed my mind was what happened to pregnant women and their babies in prison. That was not until I had had my own baby and recently got sucked into the ITV programme 'Babies Behind Bars'.

It really got me thinking.

Is it right to allow pregnant women to keep their babies behind bars up to 18 months old?

Most babies are removed from their mothers 24 hours after birth. Is this fair?

If the point of prison is punishment then aren't babies who are kept in prison being punished for something that was nothing to do with them?

If the point of prison is rehabilitation then will mother and baby units provide these mothers with the support system they need to make a fresh start and hopefully reduce reoffending?

It's so difficult. So many questions and feelings were going through my head when I was watching this programme. I just had to share it with you.

I felt immensely sad watching the mothers going through labour then having to give away their baby to prison guards. However I also felt a bit skeptical when I realised that some of the mothers already had a squad of children in care and I wondered 'why would this time be any different?'

I guess what makes it different is that this time round the mothers are away from the influence of their social groups that draw them into crime. They are well supported within the prison service and are given a good amount of time to bond with their child. But does it make a difference after they are released?

Well studies are in their infancy but it does appear from some of the research that has taken place in the UK that the return to custody rate is much lower for women who spend time in the mother and baby units with the prison service. A review into YOI Styal in Cheshire found that the return to prison rate among the general prison rate is 77% whereas the return rate for the Mother and Baby unit women is around 12.5%. So this is promising stuff.

After all, some of the women in prison are there through silly mistakes they have made, bad friendships they have fostered and violent relationships they have found themselves in.It is a lovely thought that by giving them support to experience the wonderfully rewarding side of motherhood, free from the pressures of their ordinary lives, that they can find the courage, strength and conviction to lead better lives for their children.

I am sure that there are some women who would not benefit from these projects and for the safety and welfare of their children, it is better that they are separated. I think the review process of applications must be extremely difficult and I don't envy these people.

Anyway, I have rambled, apologies. I just thought it was such an interesting topic and wanted to share.

What do you think?

Who the Hell am I?

It's been almost a week since Cybermummy and I am on a blogging strike! Initially when I wrote this post about CyberMummy I was full of the positives on the day and don't get me wrong I had a really good time. However, after having some time to process things I am feeling a little bit confused.

Who am I?

What is my Unique Selling Point?

Who is my blog audience and what attracts them to my writing?

Will my readers judge me as a sell out if I take on sponsored posts?

Does my blog name reflect my content?

Arrgh! The thoughts in my head are like a basket of snakes. I don't know the answers to any of my questions. I started this blog as a means of keeping a record for me and JC to document his growing up. I also started it as a way of venting my frustrations at not being able to talk to people because my Postnatal Depression has taking away my social skills.

The reason for this sudden crisis of confidence? Probably the overwhelming amount of information I was fed at CyberMummy. I realised during the event that I don't have a niche or set focus for my blog. But, do I need one? Is this really important? Surely if people are following my blog and am I getting regular comments then I must appeal to somebody?

I enjoy writing posts about my life, I like to tell people my views and opinions on things. I like to think of my life as a bit of a surreal comedy and hope that other people can look at my experiences and find some humour in them to brighten their day. Sometimes I like to write deep and meaningful posts that provoke an emotional response. I like to post up pictures, usually of JC being cute or the dogs. I like to take on the occasional review and sponsored post if I feel it is relevant to me. I like to make connections with other bloggers through taking part in memes.

So what is the point of this post? I want to know what you think? I am not looking for a pep talk or warm words of encourage (although these are lovely and I thank you for them)

 but I really want to know is

why are you reading this?

16/365 Teaching = hated profession

My earliest impression as a child of a teacher was probably the like the one from The Waltons. Someone who sees their job as a vocation, as a way of making a difference in the world. Someone who is willing to work for a modest pay without claiming hours of over time but willing to work through the night to provide their students with a quality education and be there as an emotional support and a listening ear.

This is how I approach my job. I never wanted to be a teacher, I just fell into it but I can honestly say that it is a job I love and that I get so much job satisfaction from. However, it isn't always easy and not all teachers are created equal. I am not without my faults. I can be messy, disorganised, forgetful and I sometimes fall behind on my paperwork. One thing that never suffers in my classroom though is the children's experience of learning. I try my best to give them a quality education on one hand but inject fun into the classroom on the other. Teachers used to be respected and well thought of but somewhere along the line they lost that respect. We are now criticized for not doing a good job, for having too short days and too long holidays. Teaching has become a hated profession where the minority of 'bad' teachers are tainting the reputation of the majority.

I was watching This Morning today where they were discussing the recommendation of changing the working pattern of teachers in England to work 6 days a week, 8am - 8pm (with the children in during these times to make childcare arrangements easier for parents) and to reduce the summer holiday to 4 weeks. Since when was school a babysitting service? If childcare is a problem why aren't the government focussing their energy on making it cheaper and more accessible. As a working mum myself (soon to be anyway) I understand these pressures but I don't feel it's the school responsibility. I wouldn't want him in school for that length of time. I think children need down time, away from school and teachers. They need family time and it is equally important as education. Going abroad or spending time exploring the world outside school is equally educational (Or so parents claim when they want to take their kids out of school for a holiday!). 

In Scotland, we do actually get paid for a 35 hour week (it works out about 7 hours a day) but there are few teachers who work 8 - 3 or 9 -4. If I were to work these hours I would never get anything done! We also have hours over and above this to attend meetings and training thoughout the year. In my first couple of years as a teacher I was in school for 8am and rarely left before 7pm. Now I do what I can until 5.20pm when my school now closes and I take the rest home. Normally working until 8pm. Over the year there will be times when I also work weekends. The 'work' I am doing is marking, preparation, assessment, reporting, planning. If you are doing it right there is no way that it can be done in school time. I spend my school time tidying up, meeting parents, attending school meetings, liaising with support for learning, tracking down resources etc.

The majority of teachers work our arses off so where did it all go wrong? A lot of the parents who I speak to will say to me 'yeah yeah you have a hard job with all your holidays!!' closely followed with 'Yeah but I couldn't do your job!'