Mummy spam…

I love my Motorola!!

Dear friends

It’s been a while – we’re all fine. There’s bits of news – like I started piano lessons!! again, after… 30+ years = 🙂 my dear husband is paying rather than my dear mother – but I’m going to quickly ask:

How often can I message my children?

I mean, I’m embracing the technology! Making sure they are safe! And on time for lessons at college! I, me myself, I don’t see a problem with that!!  After all, I carried my children in my tummy for 9 months each and nurtured them, I think they can at least text back when I check up on them. Right?  I don’t bother anymore with Son1, I only receive monosyllabic responses so I only message when picking him up from work (he works part time in a fast food restaurant) or when he’s picking up Son2 from school (an occasional reminder!). Daur1 always politely replies, letting me know where she is on her journey.

But this evening as I chauffeured Son1 & Daur1 (18 and 17 years old respectively), I suddenly heard Daur1 say:

At least you don’t get the Mummy spam!

And proceeded to list off how often I text her (we have unlimited so…) – did you get bus OK? Did you catch the 8h train? Have you been to your chemistry 1-1/ workshop? Are you nearly home? 

It did sound ridiculous and Son1 said – I’ll block you if you do that with me!!

So I clearly need to restrain myself!! Even Daur1 can distinguish if Son2 has used my phone to message her because:

Mum uses punctuation!

So there you have it.  Despite having phones which do everything, so quickly and easily, and let’s face it, they’re like the communication devices in Star Trek! (I’ve recently discovered you can video call through WhatsApp!!) – despite this there seems to be some unwritten protocol about how often is too often! … And I was thinking about getting an App to track where they are… in case of emergency!! 

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spring is back!

Dear friends
This weekend is Easter #Hallelujah and the clocks spring forward so we are heading into long, long evenings.  We have virtually 7 months of British Summer Time… it’s almost ridiculous to me that Greenwich Meridian is based in the UK, given most of the year we spend in BST!  Anyway, spring it is – grog spawn has been seen in ponds, daffodils are blooming everywhere, pumps are replacing boots, and Son2 left (abandoned!) his jumper at school!  We’ve had the school Easter concert – a great, stirring rendition of Bring him home from Les Miserables by the school concert band (not featuring Daur1 on flute who has been committed to revision sessions) and the Glee (interesting!) version of Homeward bound by the student led A Capella choir, featuring Daur2 singing alto. 
And today is my last full day in the office until early April – I have to go in next week to get a new, long awaited, laptop, but that will be the morning only.  And I think tomorrow we have a cinema trip planned – Batman vs Superman and Kung Fu Panda 3!  And I really must do some Christmas preparations!!  🙂

slow down…

Dear friends
I’m trying to slow down.  But since this post has taken a week to write and publish, you can see I’m not succeeding!! 
A couple of incidents have made me realise that I should take more time to smell flowers, so to speak.

I went to the women’s conference last Saturday when in one workshop, on entering, we were invited to select a name after reading:

Jesus is coming to your home in one hour. Who are you?

With little hesitation I selected Martha, deep down I know I’m not really Mary and I figured, in a self righteous manner, “most people will choose Mary and I’m different.”  As the workshop continued, and two women portrayed Martha and Mary with reference to scriptures from the Bible, I felt myself drawn into those times, and I could relate to Martha perfectly. I knew I would want everything to be perfect for my Visitor.  I do the same now, if His representatives visit, His missionaries, our home teachers, my visiting teachers, so how much more would I do it if He visited. Even though I would stop when the door knocked, I imagine my first words might be, “I’m sorry everything isn’t ready.” Rather than, “Welcome, I’m ready!”
During the workshop there were discussions on multi tasking, using time wisely, preparing, and I went to other workshops where following the Holy Ghost was encouraged. The overwhelming sense I had was to slow down, that was my message.

I returned home. On seeing the school uniforms not washed and my dear family in a rather relaxed state (my dear husband had taken the children to a science fair), I poured the laundry into a bag and announced I was going to the launderette and would pick up Son1 from work on the way back.  Dear husband intercepted my path with some words on knowing your limits and that he’d already assigned the uniforms to the children to wash by hand – “it’ll do them good!”  So, after assessing the children’s nutritional needs – we’re not hungry (owing to a big, late, lunch of hot dogs and chips which I caught the end of), we don’t need any food before bed – I took myself to bed!

This slowing down is not consistent and is certainly difficult.  This last week, I forgot my lunch once having made sure everyone had theirs, went to London for training (traveling to and from London during rush hour is never ‘slow’) and barely crossed anything off my work to do list.  I am trying hard not to run faster than I have strength and there have been some relaxing moments – treating myself to some catch up episodes of The Good Wife but I did fall asleep during those!!
I don’t really have a game plan, except to try keep a balance…. that may need more naps – I fell asleep after church this past Sunday 🙂 … it may mean simpler meals… and it definitely means involving and trusting the Lord with my priorities!

out of touch… today’s music

Dear friends

While preparing lunch yesterday, I heard Daur2 humming/ singing:

La, la, da, da,…
Father, Father, Father help us
La, la,… guidance from above
La, la, la, la…
Where is the love…

Me: Is that a church song?  There are lots of LDS youth music tracks produced each year.
Daur2: (laughing) No! It’s Black Eyed Peas, Where is the love – but I don’t know all the words.  I’ll find the lyrics for you.
Later… in the evening…
Me: What was that song by Red Hot Chili Peppers?
Daur2: (laughing even harder) Black Eyed Peas!!

Having read the full lyrics,  I’m looking forward to hearing the song!!  🙂

outnumbered: days 6 to 7

Dear friends

Day 6 – Much to say about everything today. A refreshing start with a solo run – our eldest daughter has caught a cold from her sister who caught it from their dear father who began suffering days before travelling. Solo was fine – it was a beautiful, sunny morning – a time for thought and prayer.

Back home, after my shower, the children began to wake. Our eldest son has maths revision class in school today, leaving our eldest daughter to baby sit.  I could foresee the day – much Dragons (Cressida Cowell), DC comics films, some homework and cheesy tuna pasta for lunch.  But the younger two will be happy!!  I came back yesterday to find our youngest daughter with partially straightened hair – our eldest daughter having used my old tongs we found in the garage – and a burnt ear! That’s when they stopped 😉

A completely hectic day at work… 2 meetings plus site visit which came to 4 hours on site; engineers not attending when they’re meant to; explaining why lime (not cement) render was specified; an architect off sick with feasibility study due; work placement student in on Monday (fortunately I don’t have to look after them this time); and no proper lunch = I grabbed a cookie and a cereal bar – no bread to pack a sandwich = expecting to buy something more substantial but no time for that.

Fortunately, there was enough chicken sauce from last night for a second dinner of chicken and rice. I should have added vegetables to the rice as a variation!!  I must ensure we don’t appear malnourished when my dear husband arrives back home!

Day 7 – Dedicated but slack mum continues!  Brunch (cereal & toast), milkshakes while out, pizza and ice cream back home, hot chocolate and cheese on toast…; no need for me to wonder why there’s never any bread!  A few years back and I used to make our bread, rolls by hand, loaves in the breadmaker. But gradually I got out of the habit, the breadmaker broke, the children got older, we earned a little more so could afford to buy sliced bread. But I bought bread flour today so I might do some this weekend – it always tastes so good and we never ate so much – it must be healthier.

I dropped round some photocopying at my Dad’s this evening – he is well enough and appreciated me attending the funeral of our cousin last week. He had dropped by in the middle of the week when I was at work with some paperwork to copy and met the children home, alone, in the garden trampolining and inside (our eldest son is 16 so there’s no babysitting issue). Dad then asked me, with a pitying look, this evening,  how I was coping.  With what,  I thought, so I said, what do you mean?  “How do you cope with the children, I mean, the little ones don’t speak.”  I laughed, Oh, they do, just a bit shy around some people.  I know they shouldn’t be around family but they are and you can’t force anyone,  they’ve got to choose.  I didn’t say that last sentence but as I left, I thought on how ‘coping’ sounds like I’m dealing with something final or long lasting, not temporary.  I know our children and they know me and their father; we love and understand each other and that intimacy in our family is something that only we understand.  I think that’s the same in most families.  I’ve never lived with my father,  I grew up with my mother; nothing is going to change that now and however much I love and care for my father,  I feel we will never have that closeness that I enjoy with my mother, and in some way, which I never intended, that has affected the grandfather/ grandchild relationship.

We watched Epic this evening:

many leaves, one tree

I like that phrase.  Some of us are simply far apart on those branches but we’re still there for each other 🙂

reflections

Dear friends
It has been a busy few days getting ready for school starting – exams and tests this term.  I’ve spent time with our children – cutting hair, laughing, exercising and shopping. The following has been on my mind.

When I look in the mirror, I see my four children in front of me 🙂 Does that make sense?

When I was much younger, I saw a girl with desires and dreams – do I look like one of my grandmothers, I often wondered?  I remember this one time seeing much more, I was about 11 years old; I saw that what was me, was more than the body reflected in the mirror, there was something deeper inside, behind my eyes.  I admit this freaked me out somewhat and I started crying, not quite understanding what I was feeling; I was almost inconsolable as I cried I don’t want to die! !   Somehow, my dear mother calmed me and I went to school late that day.

As I’ve grown, I’ve come to learn and understand that we do have our own spirit and body – me, I’ve always been me, regardless of my physical body, it’s age or condition.  I suppose that’s why we feel younger (or older) than our physical age! 

But now when I look in the mirror, I see our eldest son, his pioneering spirit; our eldest daughter, her wit; our youngest daughter, her creativity; our youngest son, his passion 🙂 Plus all the physical similarities though everyone sees the children’s resemblance to their father. 

This fills me with peace and joy, knowing that we are a part of each other.  As we’re all part of our loved ones.

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

older…

Dear friends, the Sabbath day started regular enough – though one of our dear children is on a school residential trip in France so things are fairly irregular for a few more days – but took on an unusual turn when my dear mother passed a note down the row at church after the sacrament was passed, during the first speaker, stating – my side is hurting badly, I’m going to drop-in centre. I wrote back, I’ll take you to A&E. So, the first speaker finished and I left with Mum, explaining there was no point going to the centre on a Sunday as they couldn’t do scans or x-rays.
Some hours later, Mum is discharged, nothing more than ‘wear ‘n’ tear’ of the bones.  And a couple hours later I’m explaining the event to my younger brother who is greatly reassured by my laid back manner since by then we can laugh about me driving “rather quickly” as Mum recalls to the hospital. I didn’t tell anyone about the teary eyes I had as I brought the car round, or my prayers while waiting, or my immense relief to hear the blood tests were clear and the x-ray showed wear only. At 80 years, that’s allowed! 🙂

my Mummy

Dear friends, a couple of days ago, I was on chauffeur duty and having a little time, went to visit my mother, affectionately still known to and called by me, Mummy :). 
Mummy is 80 years, lives alone in the house we moved into when I was 7 years, is a retired nurse and comes from Barbados; Mummy is Bajan.  Mummy has always been a Christian and, having stayed unaffiliated with any church as we grew up, recognised the truths of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ when sister missionaries knocked our door.  Of her children, I live closest; we see each other at church each week; and over the last few months, I speak with her more regularly and make sure Mummy eats properly.
Mummy has always taught us and encouraged us to be ourselves, who we wanted to be.  So, even though I grew up on an estate, nothing limited my desire to be an architect, or to study at one of the more prestigious universities.  Mummy never forced us but always made it very clear what the rules were.  I know Mummy is not perfect (my parents are not married) but I do not judge; I am grateful that I am her daughter.  And I am forever grateful to Heavenly Father that my children have been able to grow up close to at least one grandmother (I never had that chance) and understand part of their family history. I feel it helps them know themselves better.

children & parents

Dear friends, it’s good to talk! Especially with our young people, our children, the ‘I’ generation (not my phrase, for this generation that has grown up with the Internet).  I walked up to the local library today with my two eldest dear children – yes, they do borrow books :). It was a great and simple opportunity to talk and discuss things that are in their lives – school, friends et all – in a relaxed manner.

I believe it is important that I stay close to my children so they feel comfortable speaking and opening up.  If we are not there for them, A N Other will be and what values or standards will A N Other have?  We love our children, so let’s not let them down.  One day I’d like to hear Proverbs 31 v28 spoken of me 🙂

names

Dear friends, I finally delivered cards and gifts to local family members. It sounds bad I know; Christmas Eve was a long day & I  didn’t feel like driving around town delivering at night.  No one seemed offended so that was good!   When I called my 40 years old brother by my 16 years old son’s name for not the first time,  he suggested that I have some sort of mental disassociation where I really feel that age! Huh? I think it’s fairly usual for 40-something mothers of 4 to get some names mixed up; and that I’m allowed to amongst family!  What do you think?