Easter Days

The kids don't go back to school until next week but my husband is back at work already which definitely gives the feeling that Easter is over.

The Easter weekend itself was odd for me because two of my girls were in Portugal staying with their father. Although my eldest daughter joined us for lunch, our morning Easter Egg hunt was just for the two little ones, which is much how it will be once Taylor goes back to university and Charis goes off to boarding school. I viewed it as a little rehearsal for when that time comes. Life is going to be very different.

I made a chocolate fudge cake which Addy enjoyed decorating with mini eggs and everyone enjoyed eating.

To round off our Easter holiday festivities, we attended a special spring event at our local community owned organic farm. With the weather having drastically improved from the snow and icy winds of late, it was very well attended with people, possibly like me, desperate for signs of spring. What better 'sign of spring' than gorgeous little lambs playfully leaping onto hay bales. We were all enchanted by them, especially Dylan who just kept reaching in to touch them.

There were lots of activities for the children to get involved with:

Meeting the rescued Owls

Not too impressed with the sticky seed mix used for Making Bird Feeders

Enjoying the reward for completing the Easter Egg Trail

Wondering whether to dare entering the Straw Bale Tunnel

Certainly it was a stark contrast from shopping for designer clothes in Portugal but my girls seemed content enough drinking dodgy hot chocolate from chipped mugs and were massively enthused by the stall selling freshly made fudge in a baffling array of flavours (mars bar fudge was my personal favourite with chocolate and peanut butter being a high ranking contender for the accolade). Taylor bought a magic wand carved from a birch twig and her boyfriend demonstrated his manliness with some welly wanging.

Addy did threaten to spoil the whole experience by getting herself into the foulest of moods and insisting that we only liked 'boring fun' but it really was a lovely family day out to make up for my girls' absence the previous weekend.

Best of all for me though was a warm sunshiny day just before my husband had to return to work. We got out into the garden for a good session of weeding, pruning and preparing for the growing season with Dylan and Addy as willing 'helpers'. I was really excited to see that the snow had not damaged my rhubarb which was bursting into life with the promise of rhubarb crumbles to come. I can't wait to get back out there and start planning and planting. Happy days.

More Testing Times..

My little girl, Addy, was not very impressed with the Audiologist. It turns out, she is not too enamoured with opticians either.

Another routine school screening picked up on a problem with Addy's eyes and recommended that we make an appointment with the optician. Dad and three out of four of her sisters wear glasses so the idea of having a cute little pair herself was not a problem for her. She was a little nervous of the darkened room where the eye test was to be carried out but her natural curiosity and love of new games meant that she actually quite enjoyed the majority of the test.

I had no clue that there was a problem with her eyesight. It was a little bit heart breaking for me to see her struggling to identify a picture of a car - it's a sweetie, it's a tube.

The problem only began when the optician needed to accurately measure the anomaly for the sake of the corrective lens prescription. In order to get the necessary measurements, Addy's pupils needed to be dilated with eye drops.

The co-operative, happy little girl transformed instantly into a screaming monster. She was clearly terrified by the concept of having anything put anywhere near her eyes and no amount of reassurance from me or the optician was going to persuade her otherwise. We abandoned the test and made a new appointment.

Yesterday was the day of the new appointment.

We had talked about the need for the eye drops, the procedure for administering them and the likelihood that it might sting a little - like getting splashed in a swimming pool or when shampoo gets in your eyes at bathtime. We performed the procedure on Cookie dog and gave him glasses. Cookie dog was very brave!

She had had a lovely day at school. It was a non uniform day and there had been an easter bonnet competition. Addy was very proud of her (hurriedly constructed!) bonnet decorated with egg box daffodils. She also had an  easter themed picture to take to the optician for a colouring competition they were running. I did not expect any trouble from her.

Addy happily handed in her picture at the desk but her mood changed dramatically and suddenly when we tried to usher her into the scene of the previous crime against her - the darkened examination room.

She held onto the door frame and put all her effort into not crossing the threshold of the dreaded room. We did manage to get her in and close the door but I fear it was already too late to turn the situation around. The optician looked defeated before he had even begun. Addy sat on my lap with her head buried firmly into my body repeating over and over - NEVER - whenever I tried to persuade her to co-operate.

Dad had accompanied us to the appointment for moral support so I left Addy with him to see if she might respond to a change of approach.

She didn't.

At least she did not resort to shouting at the optician that he smelled of Poo and Socks like she did with the audiologist (I think I succeeded in making her understand that that was rude and unacceptable behaviour - one small victory I suppose) but there was no way she was going to let him carry out the test.

We did the only thing we could do - reschedule the appointment... again.

The new appointment is a morning slot next week. It is the easter holidays so no school to worry about. Having an early appointment will hopefully mean we can attack it while we are all still fresh and energised. I was utterly exhausted after the appointment yesterday but I have to try and remain positive and do whatever I can to prepare my child without turning it into a ordeal bigger than it actually is.

We had a good chat about trust and being brave and doing things that you don't necessarily want to do because they are ultimately for your own good. This morning, without prompting, she announced that she was going to be brave and have eye drops. My fingers are well and truly crossed!

Testing Times with my little Terror

My little Addy has always been a feisty one. I actually love that about her. So full of life. But when she unleashes the 'fiesty' into a full blown tantrum - it isn't pretty.

A few days ago, we had an audiology appointment. This was not because I have noticed any troubling indicators that there might be a problem with her hearing. It was simply that a routine test carried out at school was 'inconclusive' and a follow up examination was recommended. At the time I wondered if the 'inconclusiveness' of the test was because she had dug her stubborn little heels in and refused to co-operate. She is not very comfortable with anything even vaguely medical. But as dad has suffered with single sided hearing loss since childhood, we had to take it seriously. I did then start to think that maybe those times when I accused her of ignoring me (the 'up to bed now, Addy' times and the 'tidy up your mess please Addy' times), perhaps there really was a problem.

She was most reluctant to go to the appointment (lending weight to my suspicion that not co-operating was the leading factor in the need for further examination). I CAN HEAR!! she insisted. With persuasion and persistence, I got her into the Medical Centre.

She was fine up until the point when we were sitting in the waiting area... up until the point when the audiologist called her name.  She called her Adrian. The stroppiness commenced. I don't like Adrian - I'm ADDY!!!

She refused to sit in the chair offered to her.

She would only sit in the chair already occupied by her little brother, Dylan (cue frenzied battling between siblings).

I was trying to break up the fight, restore calm and answer questions about Addy's general health and any concerns I might have. (No concerns about hearing - PLENTY OF CONCERNS ABOUT BEHAVIOUR!)

By now, I was understandably a little stressed. The audiologist stepped in, offering a toy to Dylan so he was happy. That left me free to concentrate on Addy. I calmed her. I sat her on my lap.

The audiologist took out her Otoscope.

The device didn't really get anywhere near Addy's ear. She saw the bright light shining on the end of it and screamed - THAT BURNS ME. YOU ARE BURNING ME!!

I felt my energy and resolve to be a good parent draining away. I literally slumped in the chair as she broke free of my hold, stood very upright in the corner of the room, arms folded across her chest, chin tilted upwards, eyes closed. She took a moment to look over her shoulder at the audiologist with a hateful glint in her lovely blue eyes and spit YOU SMELL OF POO AND SOCKS! before resuming her posture of defiance.

Thankfully, the audiologist was very understanding and very patient. I thanked her for it about a million times in between apologising for my child's unacceptable behaviour.

Poor Dylan didn't quite know what to make of his sister's aggressive outburst but he was easily distracted by the book of pictures that the audiologist was now holding. He was more than co-operative. He pointed to pictures, naming the things he knew and asking 'what's that one called' for the ones he didn't know. Addy was lured over - curiosity and not wanting to miss out on something her brother had overcoming her suspicion of the audiologist with the burn-y thing. She was very happy to show off how clever she was, pointing to the items whispered to her. Given the level of background noise provided by Dylan who couldn't quite understand why it wasn't his turn any more, she performed superbly. No indication whatsoever of any hearing defect. Unfortunately, it was still necessary to look in the ear with the Otoscope and take a picture with another device.

The audiologist tried to show Addy the Otoscope so she could see there was nothing to be afraid of and the light would not burn. Addy grabbed it off her and would, had I not intervened, have thrown it across the room. She then refused to let go of it, gripping onto it with a strength that no nearly five year old should possess. After much prising, the instrument was finally returned but we were no closer to a successful examination.

The suggestion that a picture should be taken of inside her ear sent her running to the corner again, where she turned all the lights off and plunged us into darkness!

It was obvious that we were not going to achieve anything without a general anaesthetic so the appointment had to be rescheduled.

I try my best to practise positive parenting. I explained the importance of the examination and between now and the next appointment, the plastic otoscope from the doctor's kit she had for Xmas will be gently probing toy's ears at every opportunity. I hope that will be enough to avoid a repeat performance.

I love my little girl with all my heart but she does push me to the limit sometimes. She plays on my insecurity about being an older mum by saying things like "I love you mummy but I don't love your wrinkles" and then there's "I love you mummy but I love daddy more"

Yesterday when I picked her up from school, she had a picture that she was bringing home. I made the mistake of putting the picture inside her book bag for ease of carrying. If the audiologist could have seen her, she would have realise that she got off relatively lightly during the aborted hearing test. Eardrum shattering screaming. Vitriolic accusations that I needed a checkup because I couldn't hear what she was saying. The picture needed to be carried a certain way and I wasn't doing it right.

You feel the eyes of other parents - some sympathetic, some surely thinking what a terrible mother I must be to have raised such a vile child. The tantrum lasted the whole laboured walk back to the car. I made her carry the picture herself which certainly was not following the path of least resistance.

Later, I asked myself why I didn't just carry the picture in the way she wanted me to. Anything for a peaceful life. There was a practical consideration - one hand was holding Dylan's and the other was holding her lunchbox and book bag - but there is more to it than that. She is wilful and stubborn. I never want to quash her spirit but I do want her to learn to temper her wilfulness and stubborn streak and use them in the pursuit of the positive - NOT for getting her own way at any cost, for controlling people around her or in the avoidance of medical examinations.

She is challenging. She is difficult. But she is amazing and wonderful and glorious... and honestly, I wouldn't change a thing about her... (modify slightly...  maybe!!)

Carol Concent with the mini Grinch

It was my little Addy's Christmas Carol Concert at nursery school yesterday (or as she called it - Carol Concent). She had been enthusiastically belting out word perfect (almost!) renditions of Winter Wonderland and When Santa Got Stuck Up the Chimney at home and I couldn't wait to see my baby girl performing with her classmates.

It was a pleasantly mild day (unlike today when I nearly got blown over walking to school and the day previously where the paths were treacherously slippery) As the parents arrived, the children where already in position on the playground, wrapped up warm in their coats and hats. There were lots of parents gathered around, craning their necks to try and spot their own precious child in the group of wide eyed little ones.

I couldn't spot my Addy at all. It actually got to the point where I was starting to feel a little worried. Where could she be? Her lovely teacher must have noted my growing anxiety and gestured to me where Addy was hiding and tried to coax her out. Reluctantly, she came forward. I thought that when she spotted my face in the audience she would relax and enjoy herself but her petulant little expression didn't alter. In fact, the furrowed brow and the sulky lip remained firmly in place for the duration of the concert. She did not sing a single word.

Most of the children were joining in beautifully. A couple crumbled under the pressure and burst into inconsolable tears. At least Addy didn't cry. She just had a face that the Grinch would have been proud of.

"The Grinch" recreated at home!

After the concert, the parents were invited into the school for mince pies and hot chocolate. It was a lovely opportunity to have a glimpse into Addy's world - a world that has become a very important part of her development.

I asked her why she hadn't sung and she simply shrugged and said I didn't want to. Can't really argue with that! I do hope it isn't a taste of things to come. Have you done your homework Addy? - I didn't want to. Have you tidied your room Addy? - I didn't want to. Why weren't you  home before midnight Addy? - I didn't want to.

Disappointing as it was that I didn't get to see my little girl singing, I did win the raffle (a nice box of chocs) and there is always next year.