Migrating

Almost everywhere we look today migration is bandied about as a bad thing. Why?

We are, by nature, a curious folk and this curiosity has led to all the amazing things we now have in the world.  Migration brings new people, experiences, viewpoints, cultures, tastes, sounds, sights, smells, collaborations and discoveries.

How many of us love a good curry?  Or pizza?  Burger?  Crepes?  Falafel?  Bake and Buljol?

We may not like or agree with everyone in the world but the beauty of freedom is that if you do not like someone you can move away.  (I almost wrote 'walk' then realised that I usually 'roll'!!)

I am pretty sure that all those people shouting about immigrants being bad enjoy the benefits of those immigrants.  How many of our doctors and nurses are immigrants?  What about cleaners? Teachers? Teaching Assistants?  Carers?  Restaurant staff?  Hotel staff?  Builders? Office staff?

Just as so many people have chosen to come to this country many of our natives have chosen to emigrate and give the benefit of their skills to another nation.  This freedom has allowed us to collaborate with each other and great discoveries have been made. 

We are a world of innovators-from the person creating recipes in their kitchen to the person designing a space station we all contribute to the world.  I could not reach so many of you without the internet being so easily accessible from my bed and this connectivity has eased my isolation immeasurably.

IN the spirit of migration a friend recently suggested that I blog with Wordpress so that I can reach a wider audience and in the few shorts days of doing just that I have received more feedback from readers than in all the time with Blogger so, in the spirit of migration, I have decided to move.  All my posts have been transferred and this will be my last Blogger post.

Please do join me in my new Wordpress home.

The Right Thing?

After a busy couple of days I desperately needed to rest today. I understand this, B understands this and The Kids understand this. 

Here's the thing, understanding is not the same as accepting.

You need to bear with me for this post.

My little Princess likes to get what she wants (who doesn't?!) and she wanted to go swimming today.  There was whining and shouting and hitting and tears and it was really exhausting to help her to regain calm.

I eventually settled her next to me, turned the television on and she was content with Scooby Doo.  All was well again until I had to make a few calls.

I was on the phone with our solicitor and she was ok but when I started my second call the volume was turned up and she grabbed the phone from my hand.  I didn't know what to do- the estate agent was on the line and I really didn't want L to scream in his ear!

I stayed calm, looked straight at her and I spoke quietly telling her that I needed the phone and that she had to give it back.  It was so tempting to threaten her with a punishment.  I could understand why some parents would want to spank their kids but that is not an acceptable option and actually serves to suppress emotion and build resentment.

I repeated what I said and then I waited.  It seemed like a long time but it was probably 45 seconds then she tossed it onto the bed.

Relief!  I got the phone back and continued my call thinking it was finished.  No such luck.

The volume was turned up fully and I couldn't hear the person on the phone so I switched the television off.  Then she hit me with the remote control. That stopped when it didn't get a reaction. 

I continued with the calls that had to be made and hoped she would settle down but she started shouting (luckily I was talking to B at that point so it was not as embarrassing as it could have been!).  I ignored the shouting for the most part so my little Princess stormed out of the room and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally it's over, right?

It was not over.

Just as I was about to call the bank manager L came to my door and threw something.  It hit me.  On my head.

She was beside herself! She had not really intended to hurt me.

She just wanted me to stop talking on the phone and was distraught that she had caused injury.

Don't get the wrong idea, she is definitely not a prima donna and usually is very sweet but she needs more practice with controlling her behaviour when she feels big emotions.  So what happens now?

As difficult as the experience was it is just an example of living with a seven year old and the best consequence was seeing the impact of her actions and how much I was hurt.

The Kids are fully aware of my physical limitations and sometimes take advantage of this when they are upset but this is something we are all trying to figure out.  Together.

Lots of people are going to think that I should have delayed my phone calls and given her my attention.  She didn't want my attention, she wanted to watch Scooby Doo.

Lots of others are likely going to think she should be punished because her behaviour was so unacceptable.  I agree that her behaviour was unacceptable.

The only way for that to change is for her to want to change it.

Changing perspectives

The Kids are quite mature for their age so I sometimes forget how young they are (7 & 9) until they remind me - loudly.

Having a parent with a chronic illness is scary for a child.  To be honest it is scary for adults so we can only imagine how amplified a child's fear would be. 

Scared children are not always able to articulate those emotions so they communicate emotionally.

Too often these reactions are considered 'naughty'. 




The Kids used to sleep in their own rooms without issue - until my health deteriorated.  Since then I can track their need for extra cuddles increasing as my illness worsened.  It's not rocket science, is it?  Is it really so bad to give that extra reassurance?  I don't think so.  In fact, I think I would be doing a pretty poor job of being a mummy if I ignored these needs.

That fear and frustration can turn to anger.  Anger at how unfair things are: 

Why does mummy have this illness? 

Why can't it be someone else's parent?

I hate Lupus!

Why can't you take me swimming/etc? My friend's mum/dad takes them! 

I hate you!  

I wish I had a different mummy! 

You ruined my life! 

I don't want to live here anymore!  

I want a new family! 

Why are we always stuck at home? 

This life is the worst! 

You're a bad mummy!

You're the worst mummy!


I think I've heard it all from The Kids and it hurt and I cried. Then I had to accept the way they were feeling and help them to understand and cope with those big feelings.

Think about how you feel when you're angry.  Now think about how much self control you have to exert to control your reactions.


Can we really expect children to manage their response to anger as well as adults?


(And, lets be honest, there are lots of times adults have temper tantrums!!)

I am very definitely guilty of not always having enough energy to deal with emotional overflows.  I have to dig really deep into my 'magic mummy strength' and somehow manage to get through it.  This is by no means a smooth or pretty experience. 

There is often crying/shouting/screaming/throwing things/hitting/biting and if we are not at home I am acutely aware of people staring at us.  So what do I actually do?

- make sure they are both safe

- take a breath and then another (a bit like when I was in labour!!)

- remind myself to ignore all the people staring at us

- explain to the child who is not having the emotional outpouring that I need to help the other so I need them to be very patient with us both

- go to the struggling child and talk

There is no magic formula; most of the time just letting them know I'm there and understand how they are feeling helps them to calm down.  Sometimes they just need some space and time alone so I give as much as I can and stay nearby. Other times they need me to hold them without saying anything; I think the close physical contact anchors them so they begin to feel secure again.

A hug works wonders.

Tonight we got home quite late and my son was feeling pretty bad.  He was exhausted, hungry and overwhelmed and  he refused to come out of the car - he locked himself in and said some not-so-nice things. I was exhausted, every part of me hurt and my daughter wanted my attention. What do I do?

I asked L to bear with me while I helped M, then I waited until I could unlock the doors and spoke to him quietly explaining we need to go inside. He refused and  asked me to bring a pillow and said he was going to sleep in the car. I could see he was in desperate need of some alone time so I explained that I could not leave him there and suggested that he could sleep on the futon all by himself.  I told him that I understood he wanted to be alone. 

He asked if he could make a den and when I agreed he got out of the car without any problems.  I waited and walked with him while I gave my daughter a piggy-back.  I cannot explain how painful that piggy back was....but it helped L to feel that she was not forgotten or left out.

I think if I had shouted or threatened things would have escalated and we would all be feeling pretty miserable.

As soon as we got inside my son was very clearly feeling much better and happier. He had some food, the den was built and the rest of the night passed without difficulty.

Phew!!!