I Really Have Nothing To Say…

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But feel like I should post something.

Adam is potty training.

I’m not sleeping well.

It’s rained every day, sometimes all day, for the past 3 weeks.

It’s only 19.5 C degrees in here. In June. My feet are cold.

I’m back on an eating plan as I’ve gained nearly a stone since moving into the house.

I’m using My Fitness Pal, usual user name of Tee2072, if anyone wants to friend me. I am finding the people who post on their boards stupid. But I think the other social aspects of it are decent.

Facebook thinks I need yet another email address. They are sadly mistaken. I already have 4.

I need to learn how to make forms in Acrobat. Because Word 2007 is crap at it.

That’s about it, really.

 

Freedom of Speech? Not If You’re A School Girl.

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If you haven’t been paying attention, you might have missed this:

Never Seconds

Which is the blog a primary school girl in Scotland. She blogs about her school dinners and, really, how crap they are.

Well, blogged would be better, as her local council and school have shut her down. Or, at least, told her she can’t take pictures of the food any more and her and her dad have taken that as an order to not do it at all any more.

She’s also started a drive, through her blog, to raise money for schools in developing countries to be able to supply hot lunches to their students.

Why?

Because she has gotten over 2 million hits in 2 months and instead of taking the criticism on board and improving, they got scared and ran.

Because it’s easier to tell the girl to sit down and shut than it is to encourage her to stand up and shout.

And because grown ups think they know best.

Many of her blog followers, from all over the world, are writing to the council registering complaints.

And I’m going to be one of them.

Genetic Memory?

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Today Adam and I went to the dentist.

He was absolutely fine as he sat watching CBeeBies in the waiting room while I went to have my teeth cleaned. The receptionist checked on him every few minutes and said he never moved. Just played with the train he brought and watched the TV.

And then the dental assistant came in to call us back to see the dentist. And Adam freaked out. Total screaming, crying, running away freak out. I managed to corner him in the dentists treatment room and pull him into my lap. The dentist, whose name is Chris, came in and, since Adam was screaming so loudly, he actually managed to have a look and see that all of Adam’s teeth are indeed in and that they look okay.

So I took Adam back to the reception room and he instantly calmed down. I went back into the dentist as it was time for my check up. And Chris said ‘Have we ever hurt him?’

‘Nope,’ I replied. ‘All you’ve ever done is look. Rita (the hygienist) and I sort of held him down last time so she could see, but she certainly didn’t hurt him.’

So why is my son so scared?

It was suggested that perhaps he was picking up on my fear, except I no longer have a fear of the dentist. This is why I go to Loughridge Dental Care, even though they are private. Because they helped me over come my fear of dentists.

So Chris and I mused that perhaps there is just an innate fear of people poking at our teeth.

We then discussed how we can help him as eventually he will need to get his teeth cleaned. Bernie, Chris’ assistant, pointed out that he was fine in the waiting room. So they noted on Adam’s chart to see if Adam would let Chris look while sitting there. And that Adam and I would go alone into the treatment room, play on the chair, etc, to try to show Adam that it’s not so bad.

And maybe, just maybe, at his next visit? He’ll be able to tell us what’s scaring him.

BTW, I have no cavities and my gums are much better. And if you live in Belfast and need a dentist? I highly recommend Chris and his team.

They rock.

Letter To My Son – Adam – Three Years Old

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Dear Adam

Today is your third birthday. Mummy hasn’t written one of these letters in months, but figures if she applies herself, she’ll be able to manage once a year. 🙂

Adam At Three

Of course, your development over the last year has been incredible. You walk and run and talk and play and do puzzles. You count and know your colours. You have favourite TV shows and books and films. Mummy can now recite most of the Toy Story Trilogy by heart.

You finally have a bear that is yours. His name is Charlie. He wears a bandanna around his neck. You love him very, very much.

You are starting to potty train. Slowly, but surely. I am no longer worried about you needing to be trained by the time you get to pre-school in the fall. They won’t move you to the pre-school room at Wee Care until you’re trained, but you’ll only be there for another few months, so I am not too worried about pushing you.

You are, for the most part, a well behaved little boy. You have your tantrums, of course, but I get the feeling most of the time that you have a reason for being unreasonable, if only I could understand what those reasons are. Some day you’ll be able to tell me, I’m sure.

As predicted by many many people, you began sleeping through the night consistently around two and a half. Not always but most nights, sometimes for weeks at a time. Now if we could just get you to stay in bed until the sun comes up on your Gro Clock! But I’ll take 6 over 430 any day!

In just a few months you will start your school career with pre-school. Mummy is a bit worried since you’ll be one of the youngest in your class. We’ll just have to see how it goes, really.

The biggest thing that has happened recently is you giving all your bottles to the Bottle Fairy. Mummy and Daddy talked about it with you for at least a month and then the day arrived. And you were so sad, starting during dinner.

And then we were getting ready for bed and I realized Charlie, your bear, had been left downstairs so I called for Daddy to bring him up. You shouted “NO! No sleep with Charlie!” very loudly. And I realized you thought giving up your bottle meant giving up your bear! And your snuggles!

I soon told you that you didn’t have to do that! It was only your bottles you needed to give to the Fairy. Everything else is just the same as before.

The next morning you were fine! So I think you did understand about no more bottles. And Charlie was tucked in your arms all night.

And so my boy is three.

And everyday he makes me proud.

Love

Mummy

 

 

A Big Day For A Little Boy

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Adam turns 3 on Monday and today we celebrated his birthday. He helped me decorate his cake:

Beautiful!

And he opened his presents. Granny and Grandpa were here to see, although they didn’t get to see much as once Adam opened Buzz Lightyear from Aunty and Uncle…that was it for awhile!

His gifts included trains and tracks:

Trains for my birthday

And then a trip to the toy store:

Trip to the toy store

Where he picked out this as his gift from Mummy and Daddy:

BIG Truck!

Amazingly, he’s been playing with all of his new toys equally and having a blast. His trains go for a ride on his big truck, Buzz Lightyear helps run the trains on the tracks and everything plays together so very nicely.

Monday he’ll take cupcakes to school and wear a ‘I’m 3!’ badge.

And that’s him. Another year older.

My baby!!!!

First Parents’ Meeting Done

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Looks like an interesting group of parents. All sorts. The ‘integrated’ part of the school seems to be true.

One worry. Adam’s uniform jumper may already be too small. And that’s the largest size they have with the playgroup’s logo on it, which is slightly different from the Primary School’s.

He has a play session next week and he’ll wear it so we’ll see if it’s as small as I am afraid it is. If it is I will mention it to his teacher and see if she has any ideas.

In other news, I am a bit perturbed by his nursery who are really pushing me to put him in underpants, just so they can move him up to their pre-school room. I really don’t think he’s ready. And I don’t care if he stays in their toddler room until he leaves at the end of the summer. I’m half tempted to do it and let them deal with the mess, but I won’t.

This weekend we have plans but the weekend after we don’t so we may try pants then.

FFS, he’s not even 3 yet!

And So Grandma and Pops’ Visit Ends

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They left last night to go to a hotel as their flight was very early in the morning and they wanted to be closer to the airport.

A small boy cried hysterically after he waved them off in their taxi.

It was a good visit but it really wore me down. I spent this morning in bed and may go back there in a bit.

More detailed update when I have fully recovered.