The Procrastinator within…

So it seems that I had a realisation this weekend, one that I kind of knew but didn’t really think about as it only really manifested itself while I was working.  Yes it seems that I am a fully fledge ‘Procrastinator’.  How did this realisation come about you may ask?   Well, quite simply I was cleaning up our PC area as I finally got sick of all the papers and cables lying about and sharing a chair with both sons, and I found the TO DO list that I wrote when I stopped working.  The good news is that cleaning up the PC area was one of the things on the list however there were still another 20 that I hadn’t started or even contemplated.

Ah, Procrastination, what a wonderful thing.  Why do something now when you can keep putting it off.  It should be my motto for life or even my lifestyle of choice.

When I was working I thrived for deadlines, nothing got the adrenalin pumping more than knowing that I had a deadline that was creeping up and I still hadn’t started the work.  A two week deadline meant 8-9 days mucking about.  Then as the day approached I would spend a manic day completing what had to be done.  My work colleagues would ask if I was joking when I suggested doing lunch or coffee as they were trying to get work done before a deadline.  How weird is that?  In fact it pretty much sums up my school days as well, swatting up the night before exams when I should have been studying for weeks..

Procrastination comes in many guises, Twitter, email, blogging, Facebook the list is endless.  I do get days that I think okay today is the day I am going to “clean the line cupboard”, “oil the furniture”,  “attack the hall cupboard”. The hours I have free while the kids are at school\child minder are all mine to do all these “tasks”.  But once I have a morning coffee, check email, twitter, sneak a peek at LinkedIn, and then back to Facebook.  Then the all consuming blogging comes into play; write a post, check a post, read other posts…  My time has ebbed away and before I know, it’s too late to start anything.  Perhaps tomorrow or next week I think to myself as there is no rush to complete these things, they will get done when I can be bothered.  I have thought of setting deadlines for each of these things, but that won’t work as I set them so I can change them!

So almost 4 months later, that tomorrow still hasn’t arrived but at least I now have one thing ticked off.

Silent Sunday

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The Elephant

Mummy?

Yes darling

Why were you and daddy talking loudly to each other?

It’s nothing for you to worry about.  We just can’t agree on a very important matter at the moment

Is it to do with me and Cameron?

No of course not, just me and your daddy being silly

Is it to do with the elephant?

Huh..  What do mean the elephant?

You know the one that you said is always in the room.  I can’t see it?

Oh honey that is just something that we grownups say.....

Why would you say it then if there isn’t an elephant in the room?  You know mummy I don’t think we could get an elephant in here?

Well that is just as well then as we won’t be having one in here

Oh……   So we won’t be getting an elephant?

No honey as I said it’s just something grownups say when there is a big problem they need to sort out and they can’t agree on it

Oh..

Why, what’s with the face?

Hmm, I told everyone at school that we were getting a elephant

Okay, and?

Well I told everyone they could come round and feed it

But we aren’t getting one so you will just need to tell them that they can’t

Hmmm does that mean I have told a lie?

No of course not

But you told me if I said things that wasn’t true then it was lying

Yes darling that is true but you didn’t lie

Mummy?

Yes darling

I don’t want an elephant anyway what would we do with all that poo?

From Ear Infection to Ankylosis - Part Two

Last week saw us finally get the news that we have been waiting for since April.  We received the date from the hospital for Son No 1 surgery.  To be fair we were given a date in June for the operation but it clashed with our holiday so had to postpone it!  So the NHS weren’t really dragging their feet on this one.  The reason for the delay in getting a date was because they have to get 4 specialists in a room together at the same time, according to one of the surgeon’s “it’s like herding cats”.  Since I have never done this nor have any intention in doing this I will take his word for it.

The good news that came out of the consultation that we had back in April is that it is not as bad as they first thought.  They are now calling it “Pseudo Ankylosis” as the jaw joint is not totally fused so they think they will just be able to go and reshape the jaw joint to allow the jaw open to its full potential.  This of course sounds great to us but to Son No 1 who desperately tries to show me every day that he can open his mouth wider (which he can’t) it’s not. 

The general consensus within the medical team is that it is still the result of the horrific ear infection that he had when he was 19 months old.  If you are wondering how wide he can open his mouth, well they measured it at 5mm which in imperial terms is 0.1968 inches, so in my terms that’s fuck all.

So roll on the 12^th July when fingers crossed they will still have a bed for him and the specialists can work their magic and reshape my wee boys jaw. 

Will keep you posted…

A matter of choice..

Monday night saw the documentary by Terry Pratchett, he of the Discworld fantasy books on “Choosing to Die”.  For those who didn’t see it, it was about Terry Pratchett trying to establish whether he would be able to die at the time and in a way he wanted.  In the documentary he followed two people to the Dignitas clinic in Switzerland where they had chosen to end their lives.  The final moments of the film saw one of the men who had Motor Neuron disease dying.

As upsetting, disturbing and strangely peaceful those final moments were I couldn’t help but wonder why on earth he had to travel to Switzerland, to a foreign place to end his life. Why is the government dragging its heels on this issue?  Yes, it is an emotive and contentious issue.  Yes, we have to protect the vulnerable to ensure no one is coerced into making this somewhat final decision.  Yes, the argument against assisted dying is strong though mainly based on religious or moral beliefs.

But surely as a Human Being suffering from a terminal\debilitating disease, illness or injury we should have the right to choose to die with the dignity afforded to us.  What right is it for another individual or even government policy\law to tell us that we can’t?  Then if we do choose to go aboard it is at a cost, which then makes it only accessible for the rich.  While there is a threat that your loved ones may be prosecuted on their return to the UK.

Living Wills are common place now, where they let your loved ones know what medical treatments you want or don’t want to help prolong your life if you are unable to make those decisions yourself.  So why then when you are in “sound mind” you are not allowed to choose when to die.

I know that if the time came that I had to make that choice as upsetting it would be for my family and friends I know that they would support me in my decision.  You go through life making choices all the time and when your life is full of pain and illness then you should be able to make that final choice.

To choose to die in your own bed, your favorite chair or place surrounded by the ones you love and who respect your final choice in life, must surely be a choice available to all.

Silent Sunday

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Is it because they are boys?

I had a bit of a drama with Son No 1 last night, not a big drama to me but to him you would have thought his foot had fallen off.  It seems that while he was outside playing he had stubbed his little toe.  It wasn’t until he noticed it, which was about 10 minutes later, the drama started.  “My toe, my toe...  Mummy it’s bleeding, it’s broken, Ouch, Ouch” followed by mock crying.  Get the picture?  The caring mother that I am went over to look at it, but he wouldn’t let me touch it.  So I just declared “Well if you won’t let me look at it I can’t help.  It’s not bleeding now so you are okay”, then went about doing whatever it was I was doing before.  While he continued hopping around on one foot declaring it was broken.

So this got me thinking about a conversation I had with my friend K while on holiday.  She had commented to me on how I let the boys do more i.e. attempt to climb trees, run around the pool, jump off things etc then she lets her children.  This is a fair point as I know I do.  I believe that as long as they can’t come to any real harm and they aren’t running riot than I should let them explore and test their physical capabilities and boundaries.

I would like to think the reason I let them to do this is because I want them to have the same sort of freedom and childhood adventures that both myself and Mr. P had when we were growing up.  I know with society the way it is now we can’t replicate that “happy” childhood that we may have experienced but I feel I should give them the opportunity to do these things.

However, the question I keep asking myself is “Is it because they are boys?”  I would like to think that the answer to that is NO!  That if I had girls then I would let them do the same.  After all, the feminist inside me would be outraged if I had little girls and I stopped them doing the things I did, like climb trees.  But when I hear myself say things like “toughen up” “get up and brush yourself down” “you are alright there is no blood” I have to think that it is, simply because they are boys. 

I want my boys to take (small) risks and learn by their own mistakes.  I want them to understand the consequences of their actions, especially if these actions affect others.  To be more resilient and aware, that the world is not always a good or safe place.  At the same time, to be caring, sensitive and respectful to others and their needs.  Especially as they grow up and become more aware of girls.

As when the time comes for them to leave home I want to know that we have done all we could for them and that they are ready to face whatever life throws at them, good or bad.  That they will be able to cope on their own, to make the right decisions, take those little risks, and understand what the possible outcomes are.  And finally to be loving and supportive partners, husbands, fathers.

So if that means as children letting them jump off a wall or climb a rather dodgy looking tree then so be it.  I will be ready with plasters and hugs.

My Passport Policeman...

Another holiday and the usual strife between Mr P and me begins.  Of all the travelling we have done together and believe me we have done a fair bit so it shouldn’t really surprise me anymore.  It starts a day or two before we are due to leave, the passports suddenly appear in a neat little pile, all the holiday documentation is collected and place in a folder.  All placed on a shelf somewhere and most of all no one is allowed to touch them.  At check in, immigration even boarding the plane the passports are held by Mr P.  Heaven forbid if I should want my passport or boarding pass to buy anything duty free. 

Then there is the fact that we are totally not in sync when it comes to ‘going to gate’ and actually boarding.  That is a whole new level of conflict.  It has been known for Mr P to decide that he needs to go to the toilet with his newspaper, while we are supposed to be “going to gate” or even boarding!  I remember one particular heated “discussion” at Bangkok airport where I declared quite loudly that “I hated him with a passion”.  It may not sound that bad now but it was on our way to London where we were planning to live for a few years.

During the holiday the passports stay with Mr P and then the whole process begins again when we leave to fly back.  I am at the point now that I no longer even bother about passports as I know that Mr P will have it sorted.  The tension I guess comes from me.  Obviously as a 40 year old mother of two I am not responsible enough to look after the passports or even handle checking in!  How did I manage before him, I will never know!

Overall the holiday went well.  The weather was hot and sunny, goft was played, we utilised the kids club in the afternoon so we all had a break from each other.  They played at the club while we sat by the pool having our first much needed drink of the day overlooking the Med.  The men folk even sported mankini’s for us!  Although thankfully it was only for a short time and even thou it was hilarious it was quite disturbing.  Photos were taken to publish at a more inappropriate time. The kids had no idea why it was so funny, and that’s what their innocence is all about I suppose.

One day I will post on the packing of suitcases or even packing a car for a road trip which takes tension to a whole new level...