The Twos

The terrible twos. They really are terrible. In fact, I’d go as far as to say they suck. Big time. Not just for me, but for him too. We had something of an epic fail in the past week, one behavioural disaster after another. Some weeks are just like that I guess. It started with a return to toddler group after the summer break. Hammer is big, it’s noisy and it’s busier than a branch of Next on the first day of the sale. It’s full on, always has been. In the past he’s been OK with it, sometimes good, sometimes not so good. Last week was not a good week. Then there was a failed trip to the Hen House. Meh, it happens I guess. It’s this ‘pushing’ phase that’s doing my nut. I know it’s his way (whether right or wrong) of expressing himself (“you’re in my space/touching my stuff/touching stuff I deem to be mine because I glanced at it 20 minutes ago and I don’t like it”). It’s not malicious. But other people don’t see that. They just glare and in some cases admonish me for his behaviour. His speech delayed, frustrated, two year old behaviour. Sigh.

So what do I do? Seriously? Much of the advice given by official channels is to ignore bad behaviour (er not always possible, especially in public when it’s involving other children) and getting them to talk through their feelings (hmmm can we park that one for now?), in fact much of the advice just seems to be ‘well yeah, this is going to happen and you gotta ride it out best you can honey, sorry. We’ll talk again when he’s three, OK?’. My initial reaction on Friday was to never take him out again. Ever. Again. We’ll just stay in I thought. He wont meet other children, but that way he can’t push them (his modus operadi) and no one will look at me like I’ve pissed in the punch!

I’m not serious of course. What would that teach him? Nada, nothing, zip! I know that really. Just some days, I feel like I’m walking a tightrope. Blindfold. With my hands tied behind my back. Whilst reciting Chaucer (I really hated Chaucer at A’level). Sometimes  I’m just so tired to my bones with all this worry and indecision and feeling just not quite good enough, that the path of least resistance just starts to look mighty appealing.

Yeah, the last week was not a good week.

But then, actually, wasn’t it? Thursday, Friday and Saturday could have been better. Sure. Things could have gone more the way I wanted them to, but ya’ know, no one died. And Sunday’s trip to Alice Holt and Tuesday’s trip to The Hen House, whilst embarked upon with gritted teeth, worked out amazingly well. No pushing, minimal squealing, making friends and laughing like a loon (him not me. Well a bit me 😉 )


Taking turns


Swinging happy

And then there’s the speech. The delay in Oscar’s speech is, I feel, impacting greatly on his behaviour, but guess what? Those pesky little words are starting to emerge. Slowly, and in a really peculiar order, but in the last week my boy suddenly has something of a vocabulary. It’s a mixtures of single words like ‘ready’, ‘water’, ‘more’ and ‘flower’ and then even some short phrases like ‘another one’ and ‘I don’t want to’! Whether they ‘stick’ and he continues to use them regularly is yet to be seen (apologies for my cautious tone, but we’ve been here before. Said bear four times in one day, never said it again) but in a week when everything was dreadful, actually it wasn’t at all. He even has a name for me now! I’m Nuhnuh. Just when you think it couldn’t be worse, it suddenly isn’t. That’s the twos for you.

The terrible, terrifying, wonderful twos.

Running up that hill….

Mrssavageangel’s been a bit quiet of late (unless you’re over with us on Facebook, then you’d know she never shuts the hell up!) It’s not that I don’t have 100 things I want to talk about, it’s just knowing how to, or when to, or even, well just, too.

Things are all a bit crazy over at Casa Del Savage at the mo. We’ve completely emptied our bedroom, so it can be gutted and redone (which I tell you is harder than moving, particularly when you have little space to move everything into!). It’ll be lovely when it’s done, but boy is the process painful. For me anyway. Moving all the furniture set my gallbladder off again. Thankfully it seems to have gone back to sleep again now, but it’s made me painfully (pun intended!) aware that I wont be able to put off having the bugger removed forever. I will until it’s unbearable though!

The before

The before

Then there’s been some movement on Oscar’s speech. While he does has a handful of words, it really is too few to be particularly useful to him in everyday life (Din au or rrrrrr* anyone?) and that’s the reason the HV has referred him to speech and language. We’ve also got a hearing check on 29th August just to be on the safe side. I’m pretty sure he can hear, but I am interested to see if he can hear everything (all frequencies, all sounds etc). I’m not looking forward to the tests. It’s asking a lot of a 2.5 year old to sit still for what he sees as no discernible reason. Ahh well. So anyway yes we’ve been referred for speech therapy, but I’m hearing the wait is really long. Even the HV didn’t seem optimistic as to when we’d get an appointment. Which pretty much sucks. And pretty much means I’m on my own if I want to help him. A couple of friends with an interest in communication have given me some ideas to try surrounding visual aids and another a book on learning through play. But the things that bind all the ideas seem to be simplicity, patience and PERSEVERANCE. Which is why it’s so draining I guess.

His behaviour’s been a little up and down of late, some days beyond tiring, some days angelic. But do you know, the more I look at everything he does, in terms of him attempting to communicate, the more I see. And the more understanding (and patient) I can try to be. I’ve taken to explaining where we’re going and how I expect him to behave at these places before we go out and that’s working wonders. And when he is cross or upset or frustrated I try to talk him through the outrage. I am also learning to see when he really has had enough, usually linked to him being too tired to keep the frustration reigned in. Take yesterday for example. We went the Hen House and he had a whale of a time, playing both alone and with other children. Earlier in the afternoon he was happy to share the roundabout with our friend’s daughter Elsa and watching them giggling together was just awesome. However towards the end of the afternoon, when asked to share the same toy, in exactly the same way with Elsa, he was having none of it. He didn’t get cross just would not let her get on. It was then I knew it was time to leave. So we did and despite small initial protestations, once he was in the buggy nibbling a cheese sarnie he seemed positively grateful.

Taking this approach is making me see him in a whole different light. I was worried what other parents might think or say if they saw me taking this (what some might perceive as) softly softly approach, but actually, do you know what:

1) fuck ’em


2) if you have a child that doesn’t needs this kind of eagle eyed understanding and can tell you straight up what’s going on then that’s great. Mine can’t

It’s quite a big thing to admit, to yourself more than anyone, that your child might need something (even slightly) different than the norm. But admitting it and running with, whilst it’s the hardest part, is the best thing you can do.

Pass me those Nikes will you – I’ve got running to do!

Wake up and smell the flowers Mama

Wake up and smell the flowers Mama


*Dinosaur Grrrrrr if you didn’t guess 😉



Slimming World Update – Week 50


Hows your week been? Mines been a toughie if truth be told. The boy’s been in super ‘challenging’ mode, whether we’ve stayed in or gone out and it’s so bloody exhausting. Actually it’s the keeping my cool that’s probably taking up the most energy. I’m not by nature, a patient soul. I try, I really do, but it’s not something that comes easy to me. So I swear I spend at least 50% of the energy I have on not erupting at him. And another 30% feeling bad when I do. Ahh well. Motherhood, thou art a tricksy beast. I’ve also had the worst hay fever I’ve had in years this summer. I was diagnosed with hay fever when I was about 11, but it’s been getting better and better as I’ve got older. Until this year. God knows what’s pollinating in our garden at the moment but it’s killing me, regardless of the drugs I take. I’ve had several mornings where my eyes have been practically glued shut. It’s really gross and it just makes me miserable.

So yeah I’ve had a week where I’ve been been driven to the brink, on various occasions and by various things. It’s so, so difficult not to fall into ‘easy’, deeply buried behaviours when your buttons are pushed so hard and I know I haven’t won those battles every time this week. It’s not comfort. I know that. It’s your body screaming “I do not want to deal with this. Give me sugar to numb it this instant”. And sometimes I can trick it with fruit or other foods, but not always. Sometimes it wins. But I don’t feel guilty on these occasions. I feel sad. Sorry for the me who has just lost. Hence I didn’t feel too bad last night, when I gained 1lb. Sad that I couldn’t have won a few more times, but I’m certainly not going to beat myself up over it. I know how hard I fought all week. Total loss is now 5 Stone 13lb (83lb) again.

But that week is over and now is all about looking forward. I’ve got a great week planned, with a group baby shower for four of my pregnant friends on Sunday. Yes it’s a another cream tea, but I’ve been there before and managed, so I feel confident I can again. And cake aside I’m just so excited to spend a couple of hours talking to my buddies without the children interrupting us. That’s a treat in itself! Then on Tuesday 8th, I’m involved with a Clothes Swap we’re holding at The Cross @ St Stephens in Haslemere. It’s a great opportunity to get rid of clothes that no longer fit and find some that do – for free (and I’m all over that!). If you’re local and fancy getting rid of some old clothes or picking up some new ones then please come along.

Most exciting of all though are things that are not happening next week but that I’ve just planned for the next month or so. Firstly I found out last night that my friend and her daughter are coming over from the States later in July. I haven’t seen her since just before I started SW. I can’t wait to see her and for her to see (the greatly reduced, new and improved) me! And then this morning we’ve just booked our first ever holiday as a family. It’s a mini break really, but believe me I couldn’t be more excited by the prospect of two nights in a super child focussed hotel, with a Crèche (yes that’s right people, I said crèche!), in Weymouth, than two weeks of self catering elsewhere. Seriously! We go in the second week of August, six weeks away. I would like to get to 6 and a half stone by then, which including last nights hiccup is another 8lb. So that’s my next mini goal. And starting as I mean to go on, over the next week I would like to lose the 1lb I’ve gained.

Have a great week people, being just that little bit kinder to yourself.