Why back?

There are a couple of reasons I resumed blogging.

The first is I really missed the processing blogging allowed me.  Charles can attest (repeatedly) of times we have fought, and I am an irrational person, and I go away, process things and come back in a much saner frame of mind. Blogging allowed for that processing.

There was the desire to reach out to mums of special needs kids, who might be worried their reactions to their children, their accomplishments, their words aren't normal, aren't right. Folks, it is an uneven playing field. Just like we can't compare our kids, we can't compare our reactions and behaviors.

Lastly, within a very short time frame, two people I am close to were diagnosed with serious illnesses.  Although neither of them are critical, I did get to thinking again. Of preservation. Would Charles want to know my thoughts, or how I really meant to react? Would the kids want to know how I thought and did on a daily basis? If so, I can do that for them.

So Im back, and it's good.

Dyspraxia

Several years ago Sebastian was diagnosed with among other things: social anxiety, dyspraxia, partial dyslexia and ADD (Inattentive).

Charles and I were extremely grateful that the school discouraged us from medicating, but supported us in whatever we chose to to. We did try Ritalin, but Seb had such a negative reaction both times that he took it that after very short stints, we removed him from the drug. I know several kids on ritalin and it works very well for them.

Maybe it is because Seb is my first born, or maybe it is because he is special needs, but he has really defined motherhood for me. I KNEW in my marrow, from the day he was born that he was not what would be defined as "normal"(whatever normal is). I knew it.

I have struggled so much to accept that the playing field is not equal with special needs children. His accomplishments are not going to be the same as other children's. I have struggled with guilt. Wanting to blame myself. Getting caught in self blame could prevent me from the hard work of working with Seb to develop coping strategies.

Right now, Seb is understanding that he is different from other children. He resents that he has learning difficulties and has to try harder to achieve something than an "able learner" would. What he needs to do is get over the self pity and get on with learning. As soon as he is passionate about something this will happen. But dyspraxics and children with ADD are known to be immature, and goodness knows, Seb is young and self conscious for his age.

We're getting there.

I can't condemn him because every day is a new step for me too. Trying to figure out effective coping strategies….all new. Understanding the balance between humouring him and getting the job done. Trying to get him to understand reality. It is such a balance and I am not adept on the fine wire.

I yearn for the day when Seb is willing to work with me instead of presenting indifference. I don't know if that will ever happen though.

I am looking at Seb in secondary school as a climb up Everest. Christmas and Summer breaks are base camp rests, where we rejuvenate and recover. And then we continue on, together.

Northern Exposure

Boxing Day, we are jumping on a plane and heading to China. For the three youngest members of the family, this will be their first time to the motherland. I am so excited about this trip. And scared about the cold of course.

We are staying at The Red Door at Mutianyu, which is right by the great wall. We have two days in Beijing, and then we are taking the TRAIN up to HARBIN. If you don't know where Harbin is, please look in an atlas while keeping in mind my distate for any temperature below zero and my lack of love for cold winds that whip through your jacket and rattle your lungs.

Harbin. Every year they have an ice festival. it is one of the greats in the world. There is an ice carving festival, the snow carving and quite a few other sights to see. Sadly, most of htem are outdoors. This is a pity because it is bound to be cold. I am trying to imagine the discomfort and have warned Charles that I will be getting one of those adult flannel onesies to keep me cosy during those cold nights. He has asked me to order him one in a masculine colour.

This is going to be a trip of a lifetime. We are thrilled. The Pheasants, Chad, Andrea, Adam, Ashleigh and Ella are coming as well. The kids are thrilled at the thought of spending the night in the train.

Adventure awaits. I can't wait.

I got so cross today that I thought to myself, "Surely no Christian could get this angry! I must be a ??"

I took time from work I can precious afford to go and get China visas for our family.
Where are we going? You eagerly inquire. Another post for another day.

Let me tell you though that although China claims to love Hong Kong and Canada, they were certainly pulling out all the stops to prevent me from getting the aforementioned visas. Frigging no wonder we love it in the Philippines.

So I started my experience by standing outside for 95 minutes. I got to the visa office at 12.10 and they were closed for lunch. Okay, I don't mind a 45 minute wait….I was the fourth person in line! And then the line grew slowly. "this won't be so bad, " I convinced myself, "Get there early and wait for a bit and you're good to go!"

At 1.10 I was a bit concerned. The Chinese are known for their promptness…so um, why wasn't the door being opened? Then I saw the sign that said lunch was from 12-2pm. Nice life if you can get it!

So I was grateful for my sensible shoes and kept in line.

As it grew longer, the typical stuff happened, people got cross with each other, someone didn't understand that Chinese Nationals have  different line than everyone else and started shouting at others…I was pretty mellow, answering emails and composing a letter or two.

But then the doors opened and the snaking queue began moving forward. I was still fourth..but when I got to the 3/f, I was told that I hadn't photocopied the correct pages. This was news to me. I was quite certain I had, but no, since three people in my party (PARTY? MY FAMILY IS NOT A PARTY, THEY ARE AN ARGUMENT) had never applied for Chinese visas before I needed to have everything in order and that included more photocopying. GRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

So, I went to get change and then I went to stand in line for the photocopier. It did not run out of paper or ink, which impressed and surprised me, actually.

Then I got my number and sat down and waited. Composed three more thank you letters in that time!

And then, I got to the counter and was told there would be no processing of the visas today because I did not have a copy of my itinerary. I tried to explain that in our environmental world, we do e-checkins and don't print a great deal of stuff. "That is too bad" she said, "We need proof of flight for all six of you."

Oh give me patience. Seriously?

So eventually I left after she accused me of throwing a passport at her.

How can you throw a passport when it is one of those metal passunder things and we are separated by a perspex wall?

But these are just little details. I did not get the visas and sadly, need to go back tomorrow.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Should I go early and be there when they open OR should I slouch in later in the day?

The pain didn’t end when the rain stopped

Almost one month ago Typhoon Haiyan slammed into the Visayas, killing over 5000 people and destroying how many By now, most of the disaster aid organisations have received their food and are distributing it across the visayas. The non profit I am a full time volunteer at is already established on the ground. We had five months of nutrient enriched rice packs that we give out to our livelihood program participants. So we were able to give organisations like the Red Cross 64000 meals, and equip campus crusade for Christ and rotary clubs with food while they waited for their own stores. But the devastation continues. Families are returning home and recognising that their livelihood has disappeared. Boats, carts and nets are in bits, fields are swollen, nutrients washed away and won't be producing substantial crops for at least a year. Yet their families still need to be fed and they need money to rebuild their homes and lives. Desperation sets in. The lack of options. And it is in the poorest provinces that people involved in sex slave trafficking are visiting. Talking to the impoverished and offering them money to rebuild their homes and even out food on the table – but at a price. Their daughters and sons are taken away to a life of unspeakable horror. If the parent is wavering, the seller can reason, "the child we're taking will get fed daily … And it will be one less mouth for you to feed." And desperate parents agree. The cruellest aspects of typhoon haiyan are still to be played out. It breaks my heart but I cannot judge those parents – for I have never known poverty.

Catching bees with honey…

It’s predictable that a daughter of frugal Blake would be a Groupon fan. Seb’s birthday? Groupon. My lunch all last week? Groupon. The new Havianas on my sons feet? Groupon!

I am a Groupon groupie for myself as well. I am getting lasered and massaged and facialed and pedicured on a regular basis.

But on occasion, these discounted vouchers cause me grief,, which frankly I didn’t pay for.

The other day I was in for my laser hair removal and in typical
Hk style, the room was tiny. I put on my robe and the girl start zapping away.

Suddenly there was a tap at the door. It was one of the front desk girls. She started talking to me about my very hairy arms and telling me I should get them lasered. Then she looked at my calves, nearly shrieked and ran out. I sighed in relief.

Sadly, she returned with someone else. Now there is the hapless girl doing the lasering, me and two others. If I didn’t have all those years of ivf drs appts I would have been embarrassed.

Once she has recovered from the shock, the latest observer speaks in rapid Chinese and her colleague translates how inattractive my hairy lower legs are and they must be lasered. Thankfully and coincidentally they are offering 15 per cent off that day on lasering services but I must sign up today! And pay! Now! Of course!

The truth of the matter is I am getting the lower legs done at another establishment with another Groupon voucher. But no
Need to divulge that information.

That’s the bad thing about Groupon – you are more likely to get criticism. I went for a facial the other day and was told I need to come back every week (which I can do when I buy their package) because I am getting very old, very fast!

I told the last I am 43 years old and don’t mind looking my age.

She explained with the caviar facial I would not need to worry about smiling so much.

I explained that I wouldn’t be buying the caviar package.

And then I smiled at her.

Don’t do that! She screamed.

Navigating Sai Ying Pun

A few months ago my colleagues rejoiced when an under renovation building two blocks from our sai Ying Pun office suddenly the Starbucks logo and the "coming soon" promise. Huzzah! They exclaimed. Finally we won't have to walk for miles for a decent cup of coffee. We've been waiting for this to happen for ages.
Three months later， our office's favourite cheap and cheerful Thai restaurant closed down. Rent hikes. It was replaced by a slick chrome place that offers high prices and fusion food. Our office was downcast and mourned the closing of the restaurant and several others just like it. I explained that if you want the convenient – mtr, banks, fave coffee shops, then you have to accept the prices and the loss of what you knew before. I've been In Hong Kong long enough to see several neighbourhoods get gentrified. A Starbucks will soon offer competition to the PCC in kennedy town.
We seem to be in a hurry for change. Remember being a teenager? You couldn't wait tog et to the next privilege. The next step. Why were we in such a hurry?
Seb had a special friend last year. A really nice, very clever, very pretty girl. And at one point Seb asked me if they could go to the cinema. I said "no, you cant. If you're going to the cinema alone at 11, what are you going to want to do at 14?"
We tend to want our kids to show all the god qualities of getting older while wanting them to stay young. I try to tell myself that Carys and Jasper's insane singing is immature, but then again, they.re nine. Do I want kids old beyond their years with everything that comes with that? No I don't.
Seb went to camp a few weeks ago and came home a few centimetres taller. I am thrilled for him and sad at the real loss of my little boy. His feet are only a couple of sizes smaller than mine. Even though this taller person is wonderful and we have interesting chats, on occasion I miss my littler boy and I think might too.

3 x 3 x 3 = 27

When updating you on Jasper, Sela and Carys it seems right that a mathematical equation be the title, because I seem to spend a great deal of time doing maths with these three.

maths + mum = cranky

Im still getting over the fact that subtraction and multiplication and addition and division are taught differently to kids these days. How am I ever going to get the time to take lessons so I can work a MAC if I have to relearn the basics?

So Jasper. He's pretty much as you left him two years ago. Possibly taller but not a lot heavier. There is not a lot of weight on the boy. Has a little habit of flicking his hair, picked up from boy bands. Really enjoys the computer and playing on the computer with friends. Of the four, he is the only one left paying rugby. He has also started really concentrating on this piano in the past couple of months and has made good progress.

And Carys. Where to start with this one. She is playing tennis and recently was the goalie in a soccer tournament. She is having a great year in school. She still struggles with English but her maths has really come on in the past months. She has a great teacher this year who has a lot of faith in her abilities. Ella and Celeste are her BFF's and it does my heart good to see Carys with such firm friends. There is no uncertainty in those friendships, she has great security. She has a new haircut.

Sela loves her books and often would rather read than have a friend over. Then there are those incidences when she does have a playdate and alas, I find the friend playing with Carys and Sela up on her bunk reading. She has her preferred genres – fiction thank you very much, and her teacher requested that she read more non fiction. Sela's response to this? "Non fiction doesn't pull me in like fiction does." Her waist is beginning to nip in as is Carys, but as always, the girls have very different body types.

On the topic of puberty, the girls are very pragmatic. Over the summer we bought sports bras for them. More for me because I didn't NOT want to have them on hand when the girls needed them! So we bought them and they have pretty much been in the closet since our return to Hong Kong. Swimming is the first sports unit the girls have and neither of them wanted to be seen changing into a bra top, which is fine with me as you understand, this is not a needed item. "Regardless, the girls were very excited.

i was okay with the whole bra top concept, mainly because the girls have nothing to put into the bra top. they are still very young at heart. they are still girls who take their baby alives to the swimming pool and tuck them up with towels. they still play nursery and put a doll in the closet for misbehaving.

The girls decided they would start wearing bra tops on Fridays. I told them that was a very great way of gradually getting used to wearing a bra top. To this, Sela gave me a look and said, "No, we have PE on Friday and that's when you need a bra." I guess she told me.

So yesterday I asked the girls if they had worn their bra tops the previous day. They looked and me and said, "No, there was no need, we were doing stretching and yoga stuff and there is no need for a bra with that.'

So apparently, bra tops aren't necessarily cool because a bunch of girls "in year one, mummy. that is so silly" have started wearing them. so my girls are going to boycott them for a while. 

this pleases me.

This bra stage is a big one and will come soon enough, so for now I am very happy for the bra tops to remain in the closet with the misbehaving Baby Alive. 

Hard boiled vs soft

At 11.30 today Sebastian turned 12. I would love it if this post were a reflection on 12 years of parenting and how my little three haired solemn man has changed and highlights in our dozen years together, but right now, I can only see the cracks.

He had his idea as to how he wanted to spend the day. He wanted to be at home at 11.30 with Charles and me and his friend who was staying over. He was not pleased that Charles had to take Jasper to a playdate/birthday party at 11am, but Charles reminded him there were three other kids in the family and said he would be back as soon as possible. So he could be with Seb. Charles got it. 

At 11.20 I asked Sebastian to run down the hill to take a bag of clothes to Jo. Jo had lent me some jackets for our upcoming trip, but remembered she needed them back for Clockenflap Music Festival. I knew they were leaving soon and so I offered Seb's services. Seb was not pleased. He said he wanted to be home at 11.30 and I told him he would be if he hurried. He turned to leave.

At 11.25 Charles returned and was surprised Seb was not here.

At 11.28 Seb returned crying. No, not hurt, but he had had to run … so fast….because he wanted to be here for his birthday and now…he was all puffed…

And I got very cross with him. He had a friend over, stop crying, he had made it home for 11.30 so frigging happy birthday. How had he given the bag to Jo's son??

This is a great example of how my little pieces do not get a good mother.

I do not have the special needs that make Seb the very complex, but very straightforward person he is. And I did not stop to try and consider why wanting to be home might be important to him, or even to honor the request, even if I didn't get it.

In my eyes, clothes needed to be dropped off soon – great – Seb could do it AND be home. Beating the clock would make him proud of himself (and very possibly get him interested in doing more training for the Cross Country team, which he is a member of but so far has not wholly embraced the training side of things.) I could only see the positives. That would have worked if his mind works like mine.

But it doesn't. Haven't I shared that 12, 24, 48 thousand times before? When WILL I LEARN.

My upset is not with him, but with how his actions reflect on me. I am on the phone with my sister and she is hearing my 12 year old bawling. He was abrupt when he gave the bag to Jo's son. That his friend would go home and tell his parents how Seb was freaking out on his birthday. His highly sensitive side would be very apparent.

My eyes could not see that this situation was of my own making and therefore the reactions I knew would come were also my fault. I chose to blame Seb and get angry with him because in my eyes, it was no big deal. 

Seb's eyes are beautiful. He is crying because this was so important to him. Because I didn't listen when he asked to stay. That he didn't get to savour turning 12. Which was so important to him.

I'm not in despair, but I do need to apologise to him. Which I will. And I know he will forgive me. He always does, immediately. This boy does not hold a grudge and he loves so deeply.

And for a dozen years I have been trying to crack his (overly) sensitive soft personality? Why, because it;s so great being like me?

So he came home, I called him into my room and said I needed to apologise. His expression was clear, "For what?" I knew I was forgiven. But that wasn't enough. I needed to ask forgiveness.

I tried to explain, that I hadn't understood, that I hadn't taken the time to understand. I was just trying to not inconvenience a friend, and instead I started crying. Which as most of you know, is not something I do often. And my little man got alarmed, told me it was okay, he loved me, while Charles stood and put his arm on my shoulder. 

I told Seb that although I knew I couldnt make it up to him, that I would love to have a midnight feast tonight, and we will drink a fizzy drink and I will tell him about when he was 12 hours old, instead of 12 years ago. He liked that idea.

If this birthday sticks out in his mind – I wonder which version of me he will remember? The impatient mother who didn't understand? The mother who asked forgiveness? The mum who arranged the midnight feast? Or the mum who tried to make it right?

Because I am all of these women, and a dozen more.

Eight Seasons

The dates don't lie – The last time I blogged was over two years ago. In Vivaldi speak, that's eight seasons.

At the time, Seb was a bus buddy.

Today, the triplets have bus buddies and Seb is in secondary school.

The years are flying by and I have realised despite my hectic schedule, I need to commit to writing down some of the anecdotes, our daily struggles and laughs because one day it's going to change. Soon.

I am also writing because I am a parent of a special needs child. Often I need support. Other blogs are a great form of support. I would love to help someone who was having a blue day, someone who needed to know another mum out there "got it" as to why she can't watch her SN child perform in a play, or a game. I get that. I do.

I am also writing because it gives me pleasure. I miss writing. Of books I have read and will soon forget I came across, of people who have impacted my life, of friends who have left and friends who are entering.

I still have a magnificent charles who tolerates my toe cracking. I still like apples to be kept in the refrigerator and he still likes apples to be kept in a bowl by the bananas. If that's the biggest thing we have to fight about, we're still pretty lucky.

Frugal Blake and Mo just came back from an Italian viaggio – where's the frugality there? Charles dad' Doug and Marnie are off on the QE2 in Spring 2014. We are blessed to have healthy and active parents. My gran is still alive.

Two years ago my life and health were good. Two years on, that has not changed.

I'll write again. Tomorrow is Seb's 12th birthday.