familytastic!

Just flew back in from London yesterday to discover Jake had taken a nasty fall earlier that morning on the way to school.

While running with Rachel and some of their friends, he tripped over somebody's feet and landed face-first on the ground. He didn't even have time to raise his hands to protect himself.

Right now, he's got a glowing red cut on his forehead and his cheekbone and nose are scraped and raw-looking. Poor little fella.

Unlike his sister, Jake doesn't do drama. Apparently he was quite upset after the fall, but as he was getting cleaned off he calmed down and got over it very quickly. Even talking to me about it later, he was very matter of fact - yes his face was sore, but no it wasn't worth getting upset over.

Compare and contrast with big sister who just the other day cried for half an hour because I accidentally bumped her with a football!

So for the moment, Jake looks like the Terminator with half his face off. I keep expecting to see slivers of metal glinting in the light. And all either Lisa or I can say at the moment is "Poor little fella."

Our good friend Wooftie - on his annual visit from The States - dropped a couple of small-but-expensive presents on Rachel and Jake: Nintendo DS Lites.

At the same time, Lisa's mum gave us a PlayStation 2 and donated a boxful of old games including the highly addictive Star Wars Lego.

The children instantly became transfixed by Super Mario and Star Wars Lego, and begged to play with them at all hours of the day and night. Lisa's best laid plans - to restrict usage to weekends only - fell by the wayside pretty quickly as the novelty of computer games overtook our self-discipline.

Jake became very adept at Super Mario World on the Nintendo, and would get lost in the game until he hit a tough spot and needed adult assistance. However, he's become adept with the DS Lite in a short space of time, and I've noticed that his concentration is phenomenal as he gets absorbed in the game. Almost to the point of being oblivious to everyone else. I walked into the house one day last week and he was busy playing his computer games, looked up, smiled at me, and went straight back to the game.

Rachel's just as good with the games, probably better since she has a couple of years up on Jake, but her biggest failing with computer games is her impatience. She's alright on her own, but when in a two-player game with Jake or her little friend Lauren, she quickly loses her temper when the game isn't going her way. Jake also can become very frustrated, and you know this because of the anguished animal howls that he makes. That's usually a sign that gaming time is over.....

We're trying to teach her more about teamwork and being understanding when Jake doesn't understand what to do. So far to limited success. What works best is when you restrict them to single-player games and let them do a level or 5 minutes each.

Having said that, there are a couple of the kids' friends who we can't allow to play computer games. Too many kids = major kiddie impatience, screaming, shouting and bad temper. When those folks come to the door, we kick everyone out. They get fresh air - we get a few minutes of peace before having to referee the next row!

We were away this weekend in Ballycastle visiting the folks up there.

Saturday evening was beautiful, so we decided to go for a walk. The weather was warm, but there was a gentle breeze keeping us cool. Rachel and Jake came along on their scooters, riding a bit too fast for comfort (since I was the one trying to keep up with them)!

We ended up in a local playground near the beach and spent a relaxing hour playing with the children on the swings, slides and climbing frames. As the sun started to descend and the air became cooler, we decided to head back up to my parents' house where we were staying.

So, the two scooter kids shot off and I lumbered along in pursuit. The pair stopped at the end of a row of houses and loitered for a minute while I caught up. Running down the side of the houses was a steep hill, which son and daughter were contemplating from their scooters.

Rachel did a little test with her scooter, going a little bit down the hill and then pulling toward the verge to stop. I thought she'd realised how steep the hill was and had decided against scooting down it. Wrong...

After a couple of seconds, she shot off down the hill. I couldn't believe my eyes and shouted at her to stop. (Great idea, she was already out of control, how could she stop?) A car was parked near the bottom of the hill with the driver's door wide open. Rachel was heading straight for it. I was pounding down the hill as fast as my legs would carry me, no hope of catching her now, just to pick up the pieces at the bottom.

Rachel managed to avoid the car door, but the road came to a bend at the bottom and she couldn't follow it at that speed. Her only option was to either crash into the hedge or attempt to skid to a stop. She chose the skid.

For a moment, it looked like she was going to make it, but a patch of rough ground caused the scooter to fall abruptly and she was thrown off, landing hard on her knees and then smashing her face off the ground. I was beside her within seconds prising her gingerly off the ground, trying to asses the damage and comforting her and berating her in the same breath. Her mouth and nose were bleeding and she was pebbledashed with small stones which I gently wiped away. Her knees were grazed and bleeding too and she was scared and badly shaken from the ordeal.

Jake appeared a minute or two later, offering to take Rachel's scooter back up the hill, and I carried the patient back to the top, still incredulous at what I'd just seen. As I was going up the hill, I noticed a car had stopped and the passengers staring at us. I inwardly cursed them for sitting there watching our misfortune when the driver got out and came across the road with a first aid box. He explained that he works for the local coastguard and proceeded to clean Rachel's knees and patch her up. When he finished, we thanked him profusely (and I felt bad about my snap judgement).

Epilogue

Rachel then refusing to walk (too sore), I ended up carrying her all the way back to her Grandparents' house. When we got back, I laid her down on the sofa to rest. Guess what? Within five minutes she was up and running around again as if nothing had happened!

Still, the sight of a child hurtling down a hill and crashing at the bottom is never pleasant. Rachel's got a few minor cuts to her face, but it could have been so much worse - we were expecting broken bones.

Over the last few weeks I have felt as though I am banging my head off a brick wall. Jake has always been more free with his hands than Rachel, but over the last six months or so, I have noticed that he rarely hits, kicks or pushes anymore.

Since summer holidays started though I have noticed a deterioration in both of the children's behaviour. They are hitting each other A LOT! To make things worse, a boy that often plays with Jake and Rachel came crying to us tonight that Jake had hit him on the head, and it turns out that Rachel, who thought the boy was being cheeky, had told Jake to do it.

I am trying to talk it out with them, explaining what they are doing is wrong and that it hurts other children. They have had stickers removed from their reward charts, they have been brought inside and not allowed out to play. None of it seems to be working. To be fair the majority of the problem lies with Rachel, Jake often just follows his big sister's lead.

I think that Rachel is bored, she misses school and it is very hard to stimulate her effectively while also trying to amuse the two younger boys. I am at my wits end, and don't like to see my usually very kind and considerate daughter turn into such a bad tempered little girl.  I am trying to practice positive discipline and not constantly tell her she is being bad, but sometimes my patience does wear thin. She is so quick to say sorry to avoid punishment, but I know she rarely means it.

Gerard is going to take some time off work within the next few weeks and we are going to try to occupy the childrens time a bit better. Hopefully a few day trips and some one to one time with Rachel will help cheer her up.

Up until recently there was very little differentiation in our home between the toys Rachel played with, and the toys that Jake chose.

If Rachel wanted to play with Barbies or My Little Ponies, then Jake was happy to join in. But in the last few weeks our wee boy has started to emerge. It all started with a Batman figure that my sister bought for him last month, and from then we have seen his interest in boys toys grow and grow.

I thought it was time to bring down all Gerard's old He-Man and Ghostbuster toys from the attic yesterday, and honestly you would have though that it was christmas in our house. Jake has played with the toys ever since, and its funny to imagine that 25 years ago his dad was playing with the same toys.

I can see Jakes gender really beginning to make a difference in other areas too. He is no longer content to watch Barbie Mermadia repeatedly, but is now asking for Power Rangers and Thunderbirds. When playing with other children he naturally gravitates towards the boys, and instead of playing on the swings, or see saws, Jake now wants to play sword fights.

Rachel is such a girly girl, who loves to pretend to be me in every way. Its nice to see Jake no longer following her every move, but beginning to make choices of his own.

I read an article today about world birth rates and the fact that the amount of males born is signigicantly higher than the amount of females. It made for very interesting reading, and pointed out that this skewed birth rate is causing problems in some countries (such as China) where men are beginning to find that there just aren't enough women to go around.
Reading the piece reminded me of my feelings and concerns when I found out that I was expecting my sons.

When I was growing up I always imagined a family with at least 2 or 3 daughters, I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a son.

When I found out that I was pregnant with a boy during my second pregnancy I was slightly nervous. I wondered if I could parent a boy, I imagined a crazy toddler turning into a surly young man who is conditioned to bottle up his emotions and remain difficult to reach.

Everyone I spoke to with sons disagreed. Each and every person told me that wee girls are much harder work, they want to rule the house, while boys are much more placid and easy going.

To date my experience has been immensely positive and I can't believe I was ever worried. My three children are all precious to me, it makes no difference what gender they happen to be.

I think my concerns must have stemmed from the fact I have two sisters very close in age to me, my brothers are a lot younger, one has yet to reach his teenage years. As my father was not around for most of my childhood, my experience of family life was very much a female orientated one.

I am lucky to have an excellent husband who is very much involved in the childrens lives. This will hopefully come in useful in those teenage years, when embarrassing topics have to be broached, and my son may not actually want my input into his love life, or romantic crises. And I am now wise enough to realise that my daughter is unlikely to want to confide in me about her first love or hot crushes either. Surly teenage behaviour is not limited to the males of our species, I can all too well remember the trouble I gave my own mother!

My sister is currently 5 months pregnant and strangely, experiencing exactly the same worries as I did, way back when. I am trying to give her the benefit of my experience, but I know that once the baby is born, no matter what the sex is, she will realise for herself, what a precious gift a baby is, and that sex is irrelevant to the love you feel for that person who is piece of you.

I just came across a great post on the Digito Society blog, that references a study carried out to determine what dads like to receive on fathers day.

One third of fathers said that their number one gift preference would be a greeting card, and 14% would like a home cooked meal.

Thank God for that! Gerard has nothing to complain about then. He received not one but two cards. One store bought, one the children made themselves. His breakfast in bed was home cooked, it may have only been fruit and porridge, but it still counts.

In lieu of a huge gift, I would like instead to publicly (and belatedly)thank my husband for being the best dad I know. I appreciate you so much, our kids are going to grow up to be better people because you are so active in their life. One day they will realise how lucky they are!

Following on from my post on outside influences on children, Rachel came off with another cracker this week.

On Friday morning I was trying to coax her into eating her fruit salad before going to school. She was digging her heels in and refusing to do so. She wanted a biscuit and juice, I tried to have the junk food chat but she just wasn't listening. So I told her that she would be getting nothing else to eat until the fruit was finished.

She then stood up, kicked the table and exclaimed "mother, you are ruining my life!"

I had to turn away so she wouldn't see me laugh! I said "Rachel, you don't even know what that means" she replied "yes I do, it means you are making me very unhappy".

It turns out that a nine year old girl that lives in our street had said the same thing to her sister while Rachel listened last week. It obviously stuck, and now it is her phrase of choice when we are not pleasing her.

If this is what she is like at 4, how will we cope with a teenage version?

My husband will often tell people that I don't allow him to have any money, or carry an ATM card to withdraw from our bank account. I resent this, as it makes me sound like a tyrant, while the real reason is that he is a pea -brain who loses absolutly everything!

Each time he gets a new ATM card he loses it within a matter of months, if not weeks. When this happens, both our cards have to be cancelled, leaving us with no access to our account for at least 7 days. It's a real hassle!

I have bought him a wallet, which he never uses, so in the end I just stopped ordering new cards. When he lost his, I kept mine and became the main administrator of our finances.

For the last year things have ran smoothly, until last night. I lent Gerard my card to get some petrol for his car, I then let him look after it while we went out for a meal for my dad's 50th birthday. When I asked Gerard for the card this morning to get some groceries, it was nowhere to be found! He is adamant that he didn't lose it, but it isn't anywhere in our house, so I don't know what other conclusion I can draw.

Once again all our cards have now been cancelled. We have no access to our bank account until we can get to the branch on Monday, so we are going to have to scrape by this weeked on the few pounds we have lying about the house and hope we don't starve.  Bang goes that takeaway I was hoping for tonight!

I love fish and chips, and although I have no problem clogging up my own arteries, I do have a problem with doing it to my children.

Tonight, while pondering my dinner menu, I took a real notion for fish and chips with loads of salt and vinegar. Instead of running out for a takeaway I put some oven chips on a baking trap, and got out some frozen cod fillets I had got from the local supermarket.

The cod had no coating, batter or breadcrumbs, and cooked in just 20 minutes in the oven. I cooked them in a knob of butter to prevent them from becoming dry.

When I presented dinner to the kids I waited for the outcry and protests, but they didn't come. I was amazed when Rachel ate some of the fish, given that she rarely lets fish or meat of any kind pass her lips.

We all cleared our plates, even Daniel at only 9 1/2 months ate the fish with his fingers and devoured the baked beans.

I admit that greasy chips and battered cod would have tasted better, but this way I am almost guilt free, and saved at least £10 that I would have spent on a takeaway. You can't beat that!