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T Minus 9 Months

  • No One Leaves You When They Live In Your Heart And Mind
    My grandmother passed away on Friday at the age of 94.

    Since a diagnosis of throat cancer at Christmas, there has been a steady decline in her health. Both times we've been able to go and see her, I've been very conscious that there was a good chance it would be the last time. In truth, I've watched the gradual decline of a highly intelligent and vivacious woman over the past ten years. First her eyesight deteriorated to the point where she could no longer read, then an attack of shingles took her lower still. Gradually, she began to lose her memory, to the point where she was like a goldfish, repeating the same thing every three seconds. Whether it was - as she herself claimed - the shingles that ruined her memory or just the normal run of ageing, we will never know, but she gradually went from a good-humoured and benevolent woman who at eighty years of age would regularly go on five mile hikes in the country, who was informed about the world and its goings on and as independent as it is possible to be to, for the past few years, the frail (and often petulant and selfish) child who depended on my mother to minister to her most basic needs.

    I am very conscious that when we would go and see her, we were seeing her at her best. Seeing me, my wife and kids was a treat for her that would lift her spirits and there were flashes of her real self in there. I knew that she found these visits very welcome but also exhausting, and some of her worst behaviour would come after she'd had a visit. My mother would bear the brunt of this petulance, and I know she found it draining.

    Given the drawn-out timescale of her final decline, I find myself not really sure how I feel. I remarked to my brothers that I've learned that I'm not good at pre-empting how I will feel about things. I thought I knew how I would feel when I got married. I thought I knew how I would feel when my first child was born. I didn't. It appears I've been fitted with a b-movie brain that scripts everything far too simplistically.

    I'm glad it's over and my grandmother is no longer suffering; any sadness is for me and my family, not her. For the past two and a half weeks, she's been on morphine and not eating and we all knew that the end was imminent. From what my mother tells us, we don't think my grandmother was particularly aware of what was happening, but there's not really anyway to cast suffering in a good light. When my brothers and I spoke last night after getting the news, we remarked on how we'd already said most of the things to say. The grieving has been going on for a long time; for years we'd opined that it would be no bad thing if our grandmother were to die, such was her quality of life. With how it's been since Christmas, it's just been a waiting game.

    I do feel sad, of course, but so far it's a quiet, reflective sadness. I have no faith to cling to. My grandmother has not gone to a better place; her consciousness has ceased to exist with the cessation of biochemical activity in her brain. What is left is simply meat; it might look like my grandmother, but it is not her. I tell the children that Great Nana has gone to be part of the universe, and in a simplistic sense this is true; the molecules which comprised her body will be broken down and will go on to interact with others and may even become part of another living being, but this is not any sort of continuation of her existence.

    I don't find myself feeling nihilistic though. Nana always said that for whatever she'd done for her children, she would be repaid if they did the same for their children. Although I'm one generation removed from her, I cannot but pass on at least some of her wisdom and
    generosity because it is a part of me too. As reflected in the title for this entry, how we live on is in the hearts and minds of those who remain - I would add 'and in our DNA' too, though that's more prosaic - and this is where I know I will be able to find my hope and my comfort.

    OYJ - 5th May 1915 - 12th March 2010

  • Dry Land
    Have put Olivia to bed without her nappy for the first time. We been talking to her about it for the last few days as she has been asking to wear knickers to bed like her older cousin does. She didn't give me any trouble when I gave her a tiny cup of milk at tea time and told her she wasn't getting any at bed time. She also went on the potty just before getting in bed, which she has refused to do in the past. I will get her up when I go to bed and put her on the potty and then leave the potty next to her bed in case she needs it in the night. I have a waterproof pad on the bed just in case and we have reassured her that Mummy and Daddy will not be cross if there are any little accidents. Watch this space and see if it is wet or dry tomorrow!
  • A Different Point of View in Every Speech I Make
    Gracie is still finding her voice and is making a wide variety of sounds. Everything is called 'gar' at the moment for some reason. We are trying to resist the temptation to interpret for her straight away and get what she wants and are trying instead to emphasize what things are called and encourage her speech as much as possible. Needless to say she thinks we are very silly people indeed and cannot understand why we don't just give her the thing she is waving and shouting about!
  • Dream Coins for the Fountain
    If only she were always so easily pleased... no 1547.

    Olivia just said to Daddy 'Mummy gave me fifty pounds'. Daddy got all excited at the prospect of a lottery win or other bonus causing Mummy to dish out the crispy money willy-nilly...

    Then I pointed out that what I had *actually* given Olivia was a very old and somewhat manky looking 2 pence coin.

    Oh well, hopefully she will think her pocket money is really generous when she is a bit older?


    - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

  • There's So Much Fun to be Had
    Here are the girls at the local play barn. Never had stuff like play barns when I was little - bah humbug!










    Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
  • The Light at the End of the Bottle
    OGGOB sucessful! Gracie had had all her milk from sippy cups today and so we chucked all the bottles away. F says he will not miss having to take them all apart to stack the dishwasher and then having to put them all back together again afterwards! It feels a bit like an end of era moment really, my last baby is no longer a baby.

    On another note her 'talking' seems to be coming on nicely and she is babbling away to herself and us a lot. Not much in the way of words apart from Mumma, Dadda and her current favourite 'there' but I think it won't be long now.

    A friend of mine recently said that you spend the first few years of your child's life teaching them to walk and talk and then the next few trying to get them to sit down and shut up! I'm still enjoying stage one at the moment and not in any hurry for stage two just yet.


    - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
  • And If the Bottle's No Solution...
    'Operation get Gracie off bottles' commenced in earnest today. She only had one bottle and that was my fault as had forgot to tell F about OGGOB! The rest of the day she had her milk in a sippy cup and did really well. We have been trying her over the last weeks but today was the first day she got the hang of drinking it all down rather than sipping it and then dropping the cup and going off to play.

    This is six months earlier than we got a Olivia off bottles but I guess a lot of that is down to there being sippy cups around a lot as O still has her milk in one as she is pretty careless with open cups. G has shown a lot of interest in the cups recently and so we thought she might be ready and it looks like she is going for it. Now if I could only get Olivia out of night time nappies...


    - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
  • Only Me and the Sea
    Mummy M is not one for pets. Never been into fluffy boney things. I also have one (some might say two, or possible even three!) people to clean up after and at least one of them cannot control their bowels so I am not big on introducing anything else that might poop on the floor into our happy household.

    That said, every child should probably have a pet. So I have given in to the pitiful moans of 'I want a puppy', 'I want a kitten' etc. and settled on the ideal low maintenance pet... Goldfish!

    Now anyone who has fish is probably laughing right now as it turns out you need a lot of assorted stuff and things and a degree in chemistry to keep even basic cold water fish! Oh well the local pet store has done good trade out of family M this weekend. And we haven't even got the fish yet as you have to set it all up and then leave it a week - who knew!

    Anyway, watch this space and see if it soon contains fish.









  • It's as Sweet as Can Be

    Here is what Mummy and Olivia got up to yesterday afternoon.


  • Photograph a Feeling
    In an effort to stay vaguely on track with the blog, here's a few photos covering the last month or so, starting with one of Grace giving Daddy some of his Christmas presents.


    It's something of a tradition that on New Year's Day the extended familiy goes for a long walk somewhere. This year, we decided to trek along our local canal. As you can see from the photos, it was pretty cold and the canal was generally iced over. Olivia and Grace's cousins spent most of their time attempting to make it crack by throwing stones (for which they were admonished) or smaller pieces of ice at the surface, but didn't succeed.


    In fact, the most successful at breaking the ice were a group of five swans who had found a patch of open water near a bridge, and who, cruelly convinced the nice people must be throwing them food rather than throwing stones, went clambering up onto the edge of the ice sheet only for it to crack ominously and suddenly drop them back in the icy water once more.


    In early January, Mummy and Daddy took a trip down to London sans children. They were left to fend for themselves. Or possibly went to their grandparents. One of the two. Whichever it was, the privations were clearly great, since they had to sleep two to an inflatable Upsy Daisy bed. It's a hard life being small. On the other hand, Mummy and Daddy had a lovely time.


    On the 16th of January, Olivia had her third birthday, and her first proper birthday party with friends from nursery school (she goes two mornings a week) and toddler group, games (pass the parcel and musical statues) and a slap up feed. I managed to get her to stand still for a nano-second to show off her party dress. This is about the only shot out of fifteen I took that doesn't look utterly ridiculous.


    Kudos to K___ for the amazing cake she came up with for the party. No wonder Hansel and Gretel were tempted!

  • Who can say what it means?
    Olivia: "Daddy, the wee wee is payment to the toilet to take the poo away..."
  • Happy Christmas
    We know. Before you even think it, we know, but there's no time for recriminations now. Let's start the new year with some better intentions and see how that actually pans out.

    For now, have a fantastic Christmas everyone.

  • Dangerous Colours and Shapes
    Olivia went off to bonfire night with the extended family. Was very cold and started late so Gracie stayed at home with Mummy.









  • Number One
    Gracie's first birthday.

    The cake(s)




    Big sister helps Gracie open her presents




  • Home Truths Tear in a Home
    According to the BBC today parents who offer each other reciprocal childcare could soon be forced to register as childminders, with all the associated bureaucracy. I have friends who I did NCT classes with who both work full time and have an arrangement that one of them will look after both children one day per week and the other will look after both another day per week. Under the new proposals these friends will be forced to either abandon this relationship or register as childminders.

    With formal childcare costs being prohibitive to some families, many now rely on grandparents, other relations and friends to care for their kids while they work. Ending such relationships could mean some parents being forced to give up working and lose much needed income. How can forcing working parents, who are trying to improve things for their families, further towards the poverty line benefit their children?
  • Has Become Nothing More Than Dirt in Some Dirty Town
    The numerous joys of motherhood no. 4298...

    You take your toddler to visit your very house-proud Mother-in-Law. Your toddler poops on the floor.
  • They Just Move to the Other Side

    Having been in and out of the doctors/hospital for about 4 weeks my Grandma had emergency surgery on Monday evening for a twisted bowel. They had warned us that she was pretty weak and that they would only do life-saving surgery. She spent the rest of the week with a million tubes and wires doing pretty much everything for her. On Thursday evening they took her off the ventilator and warned us that her organs were failing and that they would not recusitate her if crashed. She lasted 4 hours and then stopped breathing in her sleep at just after midnight on Thursday night.

    I am glad that things ended how they did as I couldn't bear the thought of her breathing on her own but still having to be fed by tube etc. More than anything she valued her independence and the prognosis meant she would never be independent again. She will, however, be very much missed.

    The last time I saw her, on Wednesday evening, I stroked her hand and told her about what the children had been up to. She couldn't answer as she was barely conscious and was on a ventilator but she opened her eyes really wide as I told her about the kids recent antics. I will prefer to remember her not in a hospital connected to wires and machines but a few weeks ago, sitting in my Mum's front room watching the children play and talking to Olivia. Olivia and Grace won't remember her but I am glad she got to meet them.

  • Even Though She's Only Very Small She'll Leave You in No Doubt at All
    The numerous joys of motherhood no. 4297...

    Yesterday Olivia wouldn't nap in the afternoon while she was with Grandma. By the time I got home from work she wanted to go to sleep in her buggy...at 5pm. As her bedtime is 6.30 I didn't think this was a great idea and put it to her that she just needed to have her tea and then we would go home to bed. I got her out of the buggy, where she had parked herself, and took her dummy out...

    Que much wailing and gnashing of teeth...

    A clear 45+ minutes of screaming ensued with lots of trying to whack me etc.

    The joys of motherhood? ...the words 'go away Mummy, I DON'T LOVE YOU!'
  • A Voice Now Past
    Anyone who knows me will know that when my girls are teenagers I will be making them watch Dirty Dancing... A LOT! This was the soundtrack of my own teenage years and I can't wait to share it with my darling daughters.

    We salute you Patrick.

    I'll leave him to have the final word.



  • They Put Us on a Transport to the Stars
    Update on the buggy....

    EVERYONE hated it, it was difficult to push, difficult to steer, just difficult...then my Dad pointed out that all the tyres were totally flat! Never occurred to me that they would need pumping up straight out of the box! Anyway it is now fine to push and steer. Daddy M looooovvvvvvveeees it as you can adjust the handlebar up and down which is doing wonders for his back. The only down side of this adjustment is that the handlebar has a little give in it as it is not one solid piece of metal but effectively hinged to allow it to be adjusted. I have never tried a P&T Sport but I imagine this is probably the case with them as well. The only bad thing we have found is something totally personal to us - the mudguards are exactly the height to catch on the stairs when my mum takes it up to her front door - not a huge issue. I really like the colour - enough pink to make it a little girlie but not as in your face as the pink camo P&T. We have cow print buggy snuggles from last winter which will look super cute on it when it starts to get really chilly. Miraculously it hasn't rained all week so we haven't had a go with the rain cover yet but I like the fact that it is an elasticated front and not those silly fiddly poppers on the P&T. The back seat could do with a recline but that is the only functionality it is missing.

    All things considered I think this was a good choice and I don't think that I could have justified the cost of a new P&T. I am going to Ebay what is left of the old P&T and see what I can get for it to offset some of the cost of the oBaby.
  • A Collection
    Here's a selection of snaps from my phone from the last few months. Quality is pretty deplorable, I'm afraid. Sorry!

    The first is Liv posing with one of the lions at Harlaxton Manor (see main post here). Harlaxton is owned by the University of Evansville, so is normally full of American students, but every so often, they open it up to the hoi polloi, and we enjoyed roaming the grounds and making friends with the local swan.


    Liv has been pestering us to let her take Teddy to the park in the buggy my mother bought for her. Normally, Teddy wears PJs, as he pretty much stays in Liv's bed, but he had to get dressed for the overcast weather. Liv was quite good about pushing him, which was a nice change from how she is with her bike, where she normally rides it for a grand total of a hundred yards or so, then says, "Daddy, you carry it."

    A few weeks ago, I had both girls with me. Liv brought her bike and Grace was strapped to my front in a Baby Bjorn carrier). Predictably enough, Liv demanded I carry her bike after just enough to make it really inconvenient to take it back home. Hey ho - we got to the park and everything was fine for three quarters of an hour, when I noticed that Liv was flagging and that it was time we went back for lunch anyway.

    After Olivia threw a massive screaming fit in the playground when I said we were going home, I ended up carrying a kicking and screaming child in one hand, a bike in the other and poor Grace still stuck on my front. It was an extremely uncomfortable journey, not made any better by the looks from the people we passed. Most rolled their eyes as if to say, "Terrible Twos, huh?" but a few seemed to be looking at me suspiciously as though I must have done something awful to my distraught child, doubtless not helped by the fact that having been punched, gouged and kicked repeatedly by the demon slung over my shoulder, I lost my rag and bawled her out in the street, which didn't exactly make me look like a candidate for parent of the year. In my defence, testicles are extremely delicate and having a child rake its fingernails down your cheek really fucking hurts. I would also like to add this is unusual behaviour for Liv, lest anyone be too concerned.

    Teddy seemed to command more respect, and she dutifully pushed him most of the way to and from the park. Maybe he should come every time...



    Here's a picture of Liv and Grace on the fire engine in the park (Teddy out of shot) Mummy's hand in shot). Grace can't really join in too much apart from the swings yet, but she does like to try. I think she was operating the gear stick....


    Here's Liv in her new motor, a beautiful yellow and red number, powered by a V6 Flintstone-style engine.Mummy picked it up for a few quid on eBay (we try not to buy plastic toys new if we can avoid it). She loves pushing it round and round the stone circle outside the French windows. She'll be a natural at roundabouts when she's older.


    Finally, a shot of Grace with her Auntie A__, demonstrating that she can stand completely unaided for about thirty seconds, as long as she doesn't realise she's doing it...



  • Wide Awake, Sometimes Sleeping

    When you are 10 months life can just be too exciting.


  • Travel With Me and We'll See..
    The Phil and Teds is falling apart and so I have finally bitten the bullet and got my hand in mypocket for a new buggy. The fact that Olivia walks a lot of the time and may only want a buggy for another year or so meant that I couldn't justify the cost of another P&T. I have been going round and round in circles wandering what to do until I came across the OBaby XI.




    As far as we can see the main difference between this and a P&T is...oh...about £200!

    Went off this morning to a local baby tat superstore to see it in real life and messed about with one there. Haven't road tested it yet but watch this space to see if it lives up to expectation. Certainly has a few nice features the P&T doesn't.
  • I Will Stare from the Window.
    Don't think there was anything particular to look at but they seemed engrossed nevertheless.

  • Carrying a Message
    I spotted this sign when we went to visit Chatsworth the other week. I know how they feel :)

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