Ten years ago....for the Oct 03 girls

So ten years ago this week, ish, I found out I was pregnant with Adventure Boy.

After letting the obvious folk in on the secret, where was the first place I ran to? Well, I plugged my modem into the phone socket, keyed in my password and waited while the phone line screeched at me for a silly amount of time before Connecting To The Internet.

The Internet was relatively young then. Netscape and Demon and Windows 2003. I'd used the net since around 1994 but it all seemed so amazingly quick. I kept a book on the computer desk to read between pages loading and couldn't even dream of broadband.

So where did I go? I discovered Babycentre when Adventure Girl was a newborn in 2000. I joined the 'September 2000 Birth Club' and talked with other mums about nappies, feeding and exhaustion. I never thought of the others on the board as friends, just people to chat to. Then I joined the Trying for another Baby board sometime in 2002, and things began to change as I began to get to know Real People. I was so excited about joining another birth club right from the start, and will never forget the excitement of the BFP posts for the TFAB graduates!

So Ten Years Ago I worked out my due date, waited for the page to load for about two hours then logged on to the October 2003 Birth Club. Here's an old archive of the Babycentre mainpage, bring back memories anyone? Babycentre in Feb 2003

When I joined that club in great excitement I never dreamed that I would be making some lifelong friends and that ten years later would still be in touch with almost 30 of them via a certain Social Networking site that had not yet been invented.

So we got into the swing of being the Oct 03 club. We saw each other through pregnancy and birth. I remember you had to load each post in turn and there was no automatic signature so we used to end every post with our due date. I used to open a Word document to be able to reply to everyone. It was a lengthy process! It used to be the first thing I did in the morning, log on to see what new posts there were. Eventually I managed to get myself voted 'moderator' which meant I had to report any naughty swearing or fighting. :D

As babies were born the board's hundreds of members began to narrow down to a smaller core. We discovered Yahoo Chat and msn and whiled away hours chatting merrily away and laughing until we were crying (mnfao, anyone?) We began to arrange meet ups and swap emails. The Board had somewhere along the way become more than a place to go and talk about babies. We shared life together, the ups and downs, and gradually became so much closer than random internet strangers.

Somewhere along the way Babycentre changed, and we didn't like it, being the traditional old stick in the muds that we are ;) Suddenly there was sparkles everywhere. And Tickers. You know - my child is 3 years, 4 months, 5 days, 2 hours, 7 minutes and 55.5 seconds old. And It's Been 2 days since I shopped at Tesco. And 6 weeks until we see Great Aunt Edna. You know the sort. We refused to take part, we declined to be part of the ticker generation. Except we didn't. Slowly, insidiously, the Glitter crept in, the Tickers claimed us. The pretty signatures with pictures of our babies - yep - we bought into it all. Most of us. There were a few die hards ;) And secretly, we quite liked it really.

But then they changed it more, and wanted to chuck off the oldies like us, those whose babies were not babies anymore. So we decamped to our own site, we left on masse, shaking the dust off our feet, and never looked back. Then Facebook happened, and well - the rest is history, really.

I can't believe it's been ten years. We've been through so much together. Here's to many happy years to come, Oct 03 girls :)

If ...

If. If I was well.

If I was well I would go swimming with my children every single week. I would tell them stories every night and play games with them every day. I would chase them round the house and dance round the living room to Strictly with them. If.

If I was well I would earn money. I would earn enough money to be able to go on adventure holidays abroad. If I was well I would take them to Disneyland and queue for hours for all the rides and walk around the park all day with them. If.

If I was well I would have 2 labradors and go for long walks every day. I would climb hills again on family holidays and see the view from the top of Great Rigg once again. I’d run into the sea with them and play surfing. If.

If I was well I would run community groups. I’d PTA and governor and organise. I’d go on cub camps. I’d say yes to so much more and I’d be reliable. If.

If I was well I might take up running. Or faster swimming. I might go to Zumba. That would be fun. I’d take up dancing again. Rock and Roll was my favourite. I’d make a life of fun and laughter. If.

If I was well I would go in a church of a more high tradition and be able to stay when they burned incense. I’d be able to go along to cold churches and not scupper off home. I’d be on all the committees and make lots of decisions. If.

If I was well I would be busy.

But I am not. I am ill, and I cannot do those things, at least not on any regular basis. So. I am ill, but when I go swimming with my children, it is a joy and a pleasure, a treat. When I tell them stories at night they are delighted and tell me how much they love that time, and how they wish it could be every night. When we play games it helps us all appreciate how things can be so good even when things are bad.

When my children ask about foreign holidays and iPads I tell them how much more important love is. How all the money in the world would not make me love them more. Because I am ill my children are turning into compassionate and empathetic people. 

When my children long for me to run into the sea with them they have learned to love it when I sit on the beach and watch them. Making memories of being with them. It is enough.

Because I cannot be on a thousand committees I have time to be. Just me, just who I am. Not what I do. I am teaching my children their value lies in their own selves and in who God made them to be. I am teaching my children that we don’t need to find worth in activity. I am teaching myself this, on a daily basis.

Because I am not reliable maybe I am helping others see beyond people as objects, as how useful they are. Maybe, hopefully, in some small way I am helping people to see people as valued individuals.

One day  I will climb hills again and see the view from the top of Great Rigg in the sunshine. In the hope of such, joy and laughter is not banished from a life where such things cannot be achieved at present. Because of hope, there is joy. ‘Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.’ And in the mourning?

Because I cannot go in some churches or be on some committees maybe I am doing my bit to dispel the Vicar’s Wife myth. Perhaps it is good for people to see we are not all of a mould, and not all there to be available at all times for all activities. 

Because I am not busy, I am free to be who I was supposed to be.

Because I am not busy, I am free.

And in freedom, the ‘if’ becomes redundant, becomes empty. There is no need for an ‘if’ in this life, if we can embrace the hope and the value of knowing God, and understand the reality of who we are in God.

I still have If days though. I like being honest with you.  And on that note, lets face it, I wouldn’t really do all those things even if I was well. Board games every day? Swimming every week? Um...nope. :D I like to dream, though, and believe in the higher possibilities...

Today

I’ve put up decorations today and helped the children put up and decorate the Christmas tree. I’m so thankful I’ve got enough spoons today to do this. Last week would have been a different story. Last Saturday I was miserably pondering the possibility of never being able to do anything Christmassy again with my children due to being so low on reserves and breath that it was all I could do to crawl on to the sofa and grumpily read everyone else’s Facebook comments about days out with the family, Christmas baking and craft and great parties. Everyone else was having all the fun, it seemed, and I wanted to shout at them, how dare you be enjoying yourself and doing nice things with your families when I am stuck in feeling like this and my children don’t ever seem to get the best of me?

Of course, I didn’t mean that, not really, and I didn’t write an attention seeking status update telling everyone that I felt that way and to shut up. Because really I was loving hearing about people’s days and fun and family time, and I will always want to hear that. But there is something inside that mourns the loss of such times, and as the disease progresses the times become less. I have to grab what I can with both hands and be delighted at the days I can partake in such. Today is one, which is a good thing as we are having a party later. Despite waking up feeling like today wouldn’t work it has so far. And a small thing like putting the tree up with carols in the background and children dancing around with tinsel in their hair has made me smile, has made me appreciate what I have.

I know I need to be able to deal with the possibility of having less days like this one, and finding delight in things anyway. I cannot only be happy when I feel better. My challenge is to smile on the bad days, to smile last Saturday. To be happy last Thursday when Adventure Bloke went to see the Adventurous Pair sing at the Young Voices concert in Birmingham – to smile that even though I couldn’t go, they were experiencing it anyway, and forming lovely memories.

But I’m not very good at that really. I think it’s OK to grump as well. Nobody’s perfect, after all, though of course Adventure Bloke comes close ;)

I guess I need to live for each day. Even if I can find a moment in a bad day where I see the good, it can lift me beyond myself. It’s not all about me!  One thing all this does is help me think of those who are much more poorly than me, those housebound, those on 24/7 oxygen, those not able to get out at all, and how they feel. It gives me a small glimpse into how it can be so isolating and lonely to be in this place. It inspires me to wonder what I can do to help.

Today I’ll make the most of today. And tomorrow may not be so good. But at least I got to put up the Christmas Tree with my children. At least I got to make mince pies and tut at all the glitter on the floor from their wonderful artistic creations. At least I’ll get to enjoy some mulled wine and chat to friends. At least for today. And that’s good.

The children have it right...

Watching Children in Need last night with the Adventurous Pair caused me to think upon how children have a natural sense of justice and fairness and a horror at what is blatantly wrong. All through the show I was heading off cries of 'pleeeeease mummy, please donate again, come on, how can you not' and various other emotional blackmail-ish types of statements ;)

Some might say that this is because children are easily influenced, but I think it's due to their God-given sense of fair play. Us adults have often become somewhat jaded and cynical and downright apathetic about these things, but there is nothing like a child in tears at a film of another child with a disability to help one regain some perspective on the world. Maybe we need to listen to the children more.

This was reinforced to me the other day when watching one of Adventurous Girl's literacy lessons. The children were challenged in groups to research somebody involved in civil rights. All the groups approached the task with great interest and you could sense the outrage rising as they found out facts about people such as Martin Luther King and Ghandi. Adventurous Girl's scathing and unbelieving remarks about apartheid would match any passionate politician and doubtless come from a purer agenda. I wonder if this is closer to what God's heart is like; the innocence of a child facing harsh realities and responding with tears and stark unbelief. Maybe we should listen to the children more and allow ourselves to feel it again the way we once did. Maybe then we might get up and do something more. Who knows.

Pioneers R Us!

Since the Adventurous Pair are back at school, and I no longer have the excuse of the mania of school hols and moving, I thought I had better re-start this neglected blog.

I wanted to as well because I am so excited about our new life here in Priorslee. It's mixed with so many emotions, sadness at leaving Stoke amongst them, but it's great to see how so many of the little things have worked out so well so far <almost like there's a God, or something ;D)

Last night Adventure Bloke officially became a pioneer minister, although he thinks that he too should have been presented with a large bag of maltesers to 'make him strong for the task ahead', as Adventurous Pair were, to their delight (especially after being told they were being given rice pudding.) The Licensing Service was awesome, I think, although I may be a leetle biased. All those who took part did a sterling job and made it into such a powerful and inspiring evening. Pioneer Ministry is a very different animal to being a vicar in an established church, and it was great that the service reflected that. I loved that we were commissioned as a family, God's call is on all of us.

But now we are Pioneers, what do we do next?

Please phone or text with any answers.....:D

We can't wait to get stuck in, actually, and see what God's up to here in Priorslee, who's in it with us, where we go from here. Bring it on.

Good Enough

One of the difficulties that I sometimes struggle with having chronic illness is perceiving myself as less than a good mum. Society is full of messages and images that tell you what a good mum should look like: Organised, time-management-sorted, creative, beautiful, healthy. Baking with the delightful children, doing things with glitter, playing educational games, taking them to educational and fun places, talking deeply with them every night after bedtime stories and taking them to all manner of after school activities. And then there's overseeing the spiritual, emotional and physical development and wellbeing. And this is only by Monday.
Now, I am sure there are mums out there who manage this on a regular basis. But the rest of us are only human, and do such things when we can, but often as not the mere thought of glitter has us shoving the TV remote at the darling children. Adventure Girl loves crafty stuff and has a near daily cry of 'mum, can we get the clay/glue/paint/glitter/sequins/moonsand/insert random messy craft material stuff out?' And me, being of only small energy, generally says in a weary tone 'another time' or 'ask daddy'. Adventure Boy, thankfully, is of much more a technological mindset and a day spent on Club Penguin would be his ideal. No mess to clear up there (well apart from the 'Puffle food' which seems to be large sheets of paper ripped up into - well, small ones, which are then liberally distributed round the house for the puffles to eat - but that's another story.)
And of course, this computer use only brings into play the 'screen time' guilt. Has Adventure Boy spent too much time on the computer today? Probably. So I try and restrict it and have screen time rules. Sometimes.
All in all, I'm not always the most consistent and organised of mothers, and don't sit and play with the adventurous pair after school every day.
So imagine my relief when coming across Good Enough Mother. With the first lines of the description of this book going like this:
For every woman who's passed off store-bought cakes as her own at the school bake sale comes an honest look at motherhood.
In an ideal world, mothers would have time to hand-sew their kids' costumes for the school play, prepare all-organic meals, and volunteer in the classroom at the drop of a hat. In reality, most moms have to settle for plopping their little ones in front of SpongeBob so that they can prepare yet another chicken nugget-based dinner, guiltily convinced they're falling down on the job.
Yes! Finally, an admission that life is like this. And actually, that that can be Good Enough. Parenting is not only about the amount of stuff we can do with our children. It's so much more than that. Being a loving mum is about doing just that; loving. Children won't necessarily remember all the visits to worthy museums so much as the ethos of love and fun in their family. If I can give my adventurous ones something of this in their lives then I am good enough. Yay!!