Family at breaking point.

Oliver is 6. He was diagnosed with autism 4 years ago. I struggled at first to accept it- how and why did it happen again, but that couldn’t last because he needed me ready to help him and fight for him and just love him. And I do. Max was diagnosed 20 years ago so maybe it helped that I knew what I was doing this time around. My family is now in the verge of breaking up because after four years, Oliver’s dad will not accept the autism or change his approach.

He’s not a bad man. Olly was his first child and he had such expectations that he thinks now will not come to pass. He doesn’t understand how Oliver sees the world, how he learns, when he’s just being a swine, the difference between meltdown and tantrum etc. Things I’ve had to learn so that I can help him achieve everything he wants to. I’ve modelled the discipline model, I’ve shown the speech therapy techniques, I’ve shown him how to play with children, I’ve talked to him, I’ve offered him counselling and helpline numbers and I don’t know what else I can do. Treating him like his sister will not make him like his sister, but he doesn’t get this.

The last couple of months have been so bad, I feel like I’m alone raising this family. If something happens it’s me having to referee and sort out the fall out. There’s constant arguments with him saying “I’m entitled to be angry” and me saying “you have to see through his eyes. Anger is no good anymore, it’s driving us all away”. Shouting at kids doesn’t work in this house. Loud, sudden noises make a situation escalate so fast. I’ve been saying the same things for 4 years and he’s just not listening.

Oliver shut down last week. I’d never seen it and I do not want to see it again. The playmobil pool was filled with water and Olly went to tip it. Olly and water is always a risky combination. Dad shouted “No” so Olly went to do it again. “I Said NO!” And then the pool got tipped. “NO MEANS NO!” So Olly ran into the living room and I followed as if he gets told off he will throw something or tip something. He was shaking. I tried to talk to him but he lay on the sofa covered his ears and closed his eyes. He shut out everything. I stroked his back and murmured to him. He lay there for a good while and I just let him calm himself until he was ready to let me in. Eventually he sat up and dad came in to see him but he just clung to me. And that was the point I told him to get help or go.

It may seem harsh but it’s been four years. He’s missing out on important things while being angry. I understand the frustration of dealing with our boys at times, the behaviour and lack of sleep is not a good combination. I understand any kid winding up their parents at times, hell, no one is perfect. I’m nowhere near perfect but I try every day to do the best I can, to learn, adapt, make learning fun, picking which battles are worth the fight. He refuses to adapt. I asked him if he thinks acceptance means giving up and he said yes. I disagreed. I think acceptance means you can open up to more ideas, different worlds, different rules. We aren’t like other families so why should we try to fit in with their “normal”? Why can’t we make our own normal? Why can’t we embrace our differences? We can think outside the box of norms to make life fun. If we keep trying to force our kids into a blue print they can’t fit what kind of parent does that make us?

If anyone has any constructive ideas on how he can move on it would be helpful. Coming from me the words are falling on deaf ears. We can’t carry on living in this angry fug. It’s not good for anyone especially the kids. If you do care to leave a comment please know that bashing him won’t help the situation. I can’t help him. He just throws that I’ve had 20 years to deal with this and he’s only had four. When max was diagnosed I was a single parent with no family back up so I didn’t have the luxury of wallowing. The boys don’t need fixing, they’re not broken. I don’t know how to change this mindset. We have to get through Christmas and then I suppose we will sort out the future. Over the last four years we’ve had the chats, discussions and arguments but nothing really changes. I’ve asked him how I can help, what he needs, how I can make it better, tried to support and be understanding but with no movement I can’t continue to do this. I’m not helping at all and I’m so tired of going over and over the same ground. I’m done. 😞

Xx

Finding time for everyone.

Having 3 children at home with different abilities and needs and no sleep is difficult to juggle.  I’ve made some choices over the years that people haven’t agreed with but they don’t live my life.  When Max was little he stopped sleeping.  2 hours a night was his maximum.  We moved house so Emily would have her own room and not be disturbed by Max.  Once he was diagnosed, we got assigned a social worker (they don’t do that round here now) who talked about various respite possibilities if that was something we wanted to look at.  I thought about it a lot.  Emily had been put in second place while all the diagnostics were taking place and it didn’t seem fair to her.  She needed to know she was important too.  So we chose a “Home from Home” scheme where he would stay with another family and we got 28 days a year which we took as weekends.  Fortunately we got an amazing family. Mr and Mrs F had 6 children (one still at home), lots of grandchildren and had been doing this for 15 years.  Max did whatever they were doing whether it be a family party, trip to the beach or just lounging around the house.  One of their grandchildren was a similar age and they were close for a good few years until he outgrew Max but by then Mrs. F’s youngest had a daughter and Max transferred his friendship to her.

Making the decision was not easy.  I should be able to look after my own kids.  What would people think? Would social services look at me as an unfit parent? But if he had grandparents who could have had him the odd weekend we wouldn’t have had to go down this route.  So Emily got some designated time to do whatever she wanted.  We could go shopping, she could have a sleepover, we got some sleep, we could do stuff that we couldn’t do with Max.  I tried to always keep him involved and we went out a lot but he had a habit of being in clothes shops and stripping off which didn’t make shopping fun for her.  Max still goes to his respite, he got a personalised budget at 18 so he could employ his own people and he’s been going there almost 20 years so why change something that’s not broken?

Obviously Emily got to an age where she wanted to start hanging with her mates so I had some me time finally.  Weird feeling when you’ve never really had it, but I got back into reading and found friends on line and discovered the game Runescape so I filled my time.  We took her on one holiday without her brother too, just so we could reconnect and she could choose, you know not everyone wants to ride camels, Max!

Now I have 2 young kids and Max still at home and juggling time is so tricky.  They all have homework to be done, the boys have speech therapy, I have to cook and do housework and have very little sleep.  We went to Butlins, which turned out not to be a family holiday as such but we still got to spend time with each of the kids.  I was a single parent when Max and Em were growing up which made it tricky.  Max hasn’t had a holiday for a couple of years (I’ve written about his troubles before) but this year it felt like he was ready to maybe try something new again.  Instead of spending our anniversary weekend just me and the hubs, we decided to take Max for a weekend away.  Cadbury land and a theme park, 2 nights in a hotel, the hotel did food, and accommodated 3 adults in one room.  He did really well.  There was a couple of squeaky children at breakfast the first morning, so the next morning we were breakfasting as soon as it opened (very early) so he could relax a bit more.  He chose his own food from the menu, they catered to his separation of peas from his fish with no bother and he got free chocolate at Cadbury land.  It was a success.  But that was our anniversary weekend.

Hubs took off the week after Max’s holiday.  He did the school run for me while I dropped Max off and we spent the week together.  Some of it was shopping and Christmas shopping but we had time to sit together and talk and read and have hot drinks and I  got to garden and he got to do his records thing with no one going “mummy, I need a drink” “Carry me” or stopping squabbles.  It was only a few hours a day but it was nice having some us time. Time that we don’t get in an evening because of aforementioned children “NO BEDTIME!” “mummy I need some water” “poo poo mummy” “I’m not tired” etc etc. I counted how many times we have shared the same bed and in the last 2 years we have shared it 3 nights.  2 of those were on Max’s weekend away and once at home.  Well one and a half as Oliver woke up at 3 and had a meltdown because he was alone, we’d fallen asleep watching a film- won’t make that mistake again.

We try to take the kids so one of us can have some down time.  I ran a bath and sneaked upstairs and was just about to sink into the bubbles when Oliver was stripped and in the bath like lightening.  Hubs got a book out when I set up craft time but funnily enough as soon as they saw him sat there they wanted him and no one else would do.  So now we have kind of accepted that our time together will be him taking days off work so we have the days (all 5 hours) together.  Me time- well I think that’s for other people really.  Not that we will stop trying to give each other some breathing space and recharge time but the children are formidable opponents 🙂

I think that having 2 of us makes things easier in a way, no one is left like Emily was when she was younger, so we don’t have to look at respite for Olly.  His grandparents have no kids at home now like they did when Em was little so we can always book them in for a day to do something special for one of them, and Em helps out too.  Our needs have to be put on the back burner in some ways, but that’s the same for any parent isn’t it? It just means we have to find new and more interesting ways to keep our relationship going.  On the plus side, I don’t think we will ever get complacent with each other, we don’t get enough time together to take each other for granted.  It’s funny how what people see as odd becomes just part of life to you, something you don’t think about until you come to tell someone and see their face change.

I think as soon as you become a parent you get an extra guilt gene.  It doesn’t matter what you do you always have a twinge of guilt- are you doing the right thing? Are you being selfish? At the end of the day, it’s what works for the family.  I felt so guilty sending Max to respite but Emily needed a mum who wasn’t permanently exhausted, who did things with her and made memories and put her first.  I would have had guilt either way.  I swear it’s the extra guilt gene.  Obviously what worked for me and what works for us doesn’t work for everyone, but I carry enough and I am not going to let anyone else make me feel guilty.  I may not always get it right but I’m always trying to make it fair for all the children and I’m sure they will be the first to tell me when I get it so wrong, and then I’ll try again.  It won’t be like this forever, but while it is we just work around it and make the best home life we can…..for everyone.

 

xx

Butlins Skegness

We decided to have a holiday with the little ones and everyone said Butlins was worth a try as they had got so much out of it. So we booked and paid monthly for a gold apartment and the dining plan. We also paid an extra £15 for a ground floor apartment. Who needs the hassle of stopping another child trying to jump from a balcony (Max tried it in Florida)

I can see the appeal of Butlins. There’s a beach, small fairground, soft play and parks, food, shows and a water park all on site. However, once you get into the centre it’s very busy, there’s pound rides everywhere, lights, noise and an amusement arcade in the main pavilion. Not exactly brilliant for Oliver-total overload. He ran. A lot. We took turns chasing him whilst the other looked after Popples. Meal times were not a family affair. Day two I drove to the supermarket to get food in for breakfast and for Oliver and some Peroni for me and the hubs. I sent him for breakfasts with Popples because it was paid for, he eats more and I’m not too bothered about breakfast. It saved the morning stress of trying to keep Olly occupied whilst we tried to eat.

The activities we did were fun. The beach was a big hit, he was straight into the sea laughing and splashing up to his armpits. I built castles with Popples as she is more wary of water although I did get her in for a paddle. The fairground has a section for under 150cm so they could go on rides by themselves which they loved and it was included in the holiday price.

The water park had a selection of pools and water slides. We went on one of them and the kids actually queued no problem for it. Soft play killed a couple hours. The climbing frames killed another hour. We didn’t get to any shows. We ate in shifts. We hardly slept, a new place with all those things to do hyped them both up. I slept in “the girls room” as it was named by the youngest. Hubs and Olly slept in the double bed. At least we didn’t have to listen to the snoring!

Because Oliver didn’t eat much for two days we decided to go to the Italian on site. Not nice and cost a chunk. The main meals on the dining plan were passable, just, puddings were lovely though. We had taken stickle bricks and dvds for them which settled him a little in our apartment. Bed time was another challenge. She wandered in and out needing the toilet (fifty times an hour 🙄), he tried climbing out of the bedroom window. He wouldn’t go in the shower, couldn’t have bathroom light on as it was an extractor fan and the noise bothered him. Thankfully he couldn’t reach the security chain on the door or that would have been someone on duty all night.

It’s nothing we didn’t expect although I did think they’d be tired from the days exertions and sleep a bit more. We didn’t really see much of each other. We didn’t get any relaxing time. Before we went we talked about it and accepted that it was the kids holiday and to not expect too much and I think it helped keep our stress levels down. Instead of losing it at dinner I took him out for a walk while dad and sister finished tea. The next day he did the same for me.

The kids loved it. We made it about them telling Popples she could do what she wanted, giving her options and telling her that if she didn’t like it she didn’t have to do it. She cried when we went swimming but we had made the plan where if she didn’t like it I’d take her to do something else and we’d meet up later (very scared of big water) and told her that it was up to her to tell me if she didn’t like it. No worries once she got in and saw it only came up to her knees in the baby pool. She went on the big slide with us too. Her confidence grew because she was in charge wherever we could let her.

Butlins has more on offer but not for us. Climbing walls and stuff were not appropriate for us. Golf wasn’t either. So I can see why people love it and go back time and again but I think it’ll be a while if we go back. If we do at all. The request for next year is Peppa Pig World. She was only a baby when we took Oliver so we are considering it.

I think expecting so little and having strategies in place helped us get in the right mind set. We made some amazing memories. I took her on her first grown up fairground ride and got to see her face filled with joy and hear her laughter. I got to see my son laughing and splashing his dad in a very cold sea. I got to eat as many puddings as I wanted. I got to see my children squeeze everything they could out of family time. They loved it. And because they loved it, it was worth the no sleep, no relaxation, running around keeping him safe and every penny we spent.

Because she didn’t get to see a show we are taking her to the theatre tomorrow.

Butlins by the sea – ticks a lot of boxes but for a family like ours doesn’t tick quite enough…… yet.

Xx

DLA The final

As you may know we have been fighting the DWP in regards to Oliver’s disability. They downgraded him, we disagreed. We appealed, they dismissed us. We filed for tribunal and got letter of support from our doctor and I dug out all relevant information from his vast file. We sent off photocopies of prescriptions, the letter, a further explanation in what we have tried, an explanation of his presentation of autism, EHC’s ……in short everything!

Our appeal was accepted by the court and we were told to await a date and information on court choices closer to us. We decided that we would go wherever gave us a date first.

Today I received a letter from the DWP stating they have changed their minds and have awarded Oliver the high rate of care component and low rate of mobility. So we don’t have to go to tribunal now.

From speaking to some parents about this I found that a lot of ASD kids had been downgraded in the dla scheme and the parents were just too exhausted to fight anymore. Is that what they are relying on? Parents not having the energy to fight to save the government a few quid? They have the money for weapons and HS2 which we don’t need but not the money for the vulnerable in society. I don’t blame the parents, God knows I felt like giving up, we have enough to do without having to fight for every last thing our children need but it was the principle of the thing. How can someone who has no knowledge decide on my child’s disability?

For us we would have taken it all the way with the risk of losing. It was important to have our voice heard but it was more important to have Oliver’s voice heard, the challenges he faces daily, the help he needs to become all he can be. I choose which battles to fight now, there are too many to take them all on and I can’t physically or mentally fight them all. I triage them; what he absolutely needs, what he’d like, what we’d like if we didn’t know about the current climate of cutbacks. I’ll probably get it wrong at some point, maybe already have. But I try my hardest every day for him and he tries even harder than me.

Xx

Scarlet fever and antibiotics

Oliver had his birthday recently. He woke up with a red cheek and a cold. Thankfully it didn’t ruin his day, he opened presents, opened his cards and was quite social. By the time of birthday tea his other cheek was red. We put it down to sugar or an eczema flare up as he didn’t have a temperature and showed no other signs.

As he seemed fine I sent him to school as normal, explaining to the teacher about his lack of temperature but with the proviso they called if he showed any deterioration. He was fine at school, didn’t eat much but that’s not unusual. He refused his dinner, stopped drinking and went to bed and to sleep on his own! He slept through. The alarm bells were ringing when I woke at six and he was still asleep.

Rash had spread to his arms, got an emergency appointment as it seems scarlet fever and slap cheek is going around. The doctor checked him over and debated between the two possible diagnosis. After discussing his temperature which was over 38 last night and his reluctance to put anything in his mouth he decided to treat for scarlet fever. The lack of eating and drinking suggesting sore throat. The fact he had taken calpol the night before with no fight meant he felt rough. He had chicken pox a couple of weeks ago so we have been given antibiotics. Four times a day for ten days of the most disgusting medicine possible. As you can imagine, I’m thrilled.

Oliver does not like medicine. Took me months and many bottles to get him to take liquid paracetamol. Now I present him with this stuff. He understands “sore” and he knows when he has calpol he feels better. I think he thinks I’m trying to poison him with this stuff. I’ve put it in juice, he refuses to drink. I try to bribe with goodies if he takes it. I even resorted to pin him down and try to make him swallow but failed. He’s never had antibiotics before. The rash is now everywhere. With him having just had the pox, I’m more concerned than I usually would be over this, there can be an increase in other things like pneumonia so I need to find a way to get this down him. Usually if it meant that he could fight it on his own but would stay off school then I’d go with that, as exhausting as that is. He can go to school 24 hours after starting antibiotics but that’s not the reason I need him to take them. I’m terrified of complications because he isn’t a healthy eater or sleeper and his immune system is not the best so he’s a prime candidate for complications.

How do you explain to him that this will make him better when it’s so vile? We are hardwired not to eat “yuk”. I’ll try some in yoghurt later and see how that goes but why can’t someone make medicine that doesn’t taste like crap? It would make my life a little bit easier. I’ve tried the mummy has some/Oliver has some, in the hopes of reassuring him but he looked at me like I was mad. It can’t be just us who have this problem. I’m tired of being the bad guy when I’m just trying to help but that seems to be par for the course in this family at least.

Xx

7 days, 3 hospitals, 2 pox and one pizza ceiling.

It has been a very eventful week. My daughter had a couple of worries with the baby not moving and thinking her waters were leaking so she went to the doctor who immediately sent her to the maternity assessment unit as her blood pressure was high, her pulse was racing and her temperature was up.

At the unit, they hooked her up to monitors, started a trace on the baby, called a consultant and told us they had 15 minutes to treat if it was sepsis and may have to deliver at 33 weeks.  As you can imagine, this did nothing to help the blood pressure situation and with the consultant appearing in 10 minutes (I know, right, you never get them to appear that quickly) we were a bit worried.  I had taken her to the hospital, her husband was at work.  I had a word with the midwife who said to phone him because if they have to do anything it will be done quickly.  So they hang a drip with fluids and paracetomol to try to get the temperature under control.  She had a cold so then they were thinking flu, did swabs, took blood, and then moved her to HDU on the labour ward for 1-to-1 care until stabilised.

Thankfully, they managed to get everything under control and four days later she was released.  Unidentified infection treated with broad spectrum antibiotics, baby measuring fine.  Phew!  Lets go back to enjoying the easter holidays.

2 days later I get a text off one of the mums at school.  Her son has chicken pox.  He is in the foundation unit same as Popples, they have FS1 and 2 in the same unit.  I said I would keep and eye on Popples and if she didn’t get them I would be bringing the kids round for a pox party.  Didn’t need to go anywhere, she had a couple of suspect spots til after the bath- then she was head to toe, even in her hair!  Brilliant!  They could get the pox finally done with and not miss any school.  Oliver showed no signs except a snotty nose which he tends to have until spring anyway.  She had a raging temperature and couldn’t sleep due to the discomfort, so that was fun.  The calamine cream didn’t seem to work, so she has had a lot of cool baths.

2 days after that I was putting up the trampoline they have got for birthdays in the hopes it would save my furniture.  I managed to get the springs onto the frame which made them happy and they sat on it whilst watching me sort out the safety net thing.  As I was opening the metal rods that go at the top to keep it stiff and in place, I didn’t check to see exactly where they were.  They sprang open and caught Oliver in the eye.  Totally my fault, I know better and I should have checked and rechecked.

He started screaming, under his eye was bleeding and I applied a cold compress and tried to check his eye.  He wouldn’t let me look, I couldn’t drive so I asked my daughter to take me to A&E.  After 3 hours a doctor tried to check him but with him not being very cooperative and just alternating between “no, hurt” and singing get well soon, we didn’t get too far.  As a precaution he sent us to another hospital 20 minutes away that has a specialist eye department. Thankfully the nurse there let us jump the queue as by this point Oliver was really agitated.  The nurse and I had to hold him down, he had stuff squirted in his eye and the specialist finally spoke. “No abrasion, no damage to actual eye” and I almost cried with relief.  Oliver couldn’t tell me if he had blurred vision or if it felt wrong so we had had to go to the hospital.  He gave us some cream as the cuts were near his eye and he didn’t want it getting infected.  6 hours after setting off for casualty we could finally go home.

That night in the bath, I noticed a couple of blister spots on his back.  Yep he had the pox too.  I offered him some medicine last night and he nodded and took it so must have been feeling rough.  He’s having a pyjama day today. Hopefully all spots will have scabbed by school on Monday.

Oliver has returned to his old favourite pastime of throwing things.  He is bigger and stronger now so can throw a lot further.  Gooey louie now has no snot left as it’s all been thrown to the ceiling as it sticks.  I made pizza for lunch today so they can pick at it throughout the afternoon as they haven’t had much appetite.  Oliver took his into the kitchen, I thought he was eating on the picnic mat he’d made me put down for them the other day. He came in with a half eaten piece, put it on the plate then took another piece.  He came back again with a half eaten piece so I went to see exactly what he’d been doing.  I saw a bit of cheese on the floor so I picked it up and asked “what’s this” he looked up and said “Stuck!”.  I followed his gaze and sure enough it was stuck.  Bits of pizza stuck all over my ceiling, and tomato sauce where the cheese bit had dropped off.  He is obviously doing some kind of gravity experiment or it must be really good fun to make things stick to the ceiling.  He helped while I was cleaning it up by pointing out the bits of sauce I’d missed.

An that was a week of our restful Easter holidays where I was hoping to recharge a little.  Max got the best deal, his respite people stepped in and took him for a few days as he was stressing about Emily in hospital and the whining of the poxed one gets right on his nerves, so at least someone got a break. Oh and we managed to get the appeal done and sent off too.

xx

 

Living in chaos.

The electrics in the kitchen were condemned and Wickes were having a 4 years interest free deal on kitchens, how could we resist?  The kitchen was falling apart when we moved in, I think there was only one door still hanging in the end, but with limited finances it got put on the list of things to do- in time.  Now with this deal and our new budget drawn up we could look at getting a kitchen, as the electrics would need doing it could all get ripped out rewired and fitted.  Hooray!

We had a man come round to plan it with us, extra tall cupboards, pull out corner cupboard things, a pull out spice rack drawer and the sink of my husbands dreams (not very exciting dreams admittedly).  In the old coal shed we could put the washer and drier and other sundry items thus leaving the kitchen as just a kitchen.  We booked it after tweaking it to fit in our budget and got an installation date.  Everything going well so far.  As it was a full refit, with electrics, everything had to pulled out and that’s where the chaos started.  The conservatory was packed with stuff we wouldn’t need til after the fitting, the living room contained 2 freezers, a fridge, a tumble dryer, kettle, toaster, crockery, cutlery- you get the picture.  Any other bits were put in bedrooms in boxes.  Kids couldn’t get their toys, we wouldn’t have a working oven for up to 8 working days, no sink for at least 3, no washer.  Fortunately my parents live not far away and would let us eat there and wash the clothes.  So I seem organised and have tried to explain to the kids what’s happening, showing pictures of the new kitchen and moving things while they watch.

Day one- the workmen turn up at 7 on the dot and rip out the kitchen, I say rip out, they probably give it a kick and it collapsed! “I don’t like these mens mummy” says Popples but we seem to cope with the change ok.  We go for tea, do a wash and when we come home the “mens” have gone which makes Popples happy.  Oliver struggles as there is no space for him to play, or lounge with his teddies after a hard day at school.  Then comes the next blow, the pipes have been waggled so a connection to the bath has come lose and started leaked.  The husband caps it off and I text mum asking if we can have baths there too.  He plans to fix it at weekend.  At this point we have one working tap, the bathroom sink.

Behaviours get worse as the week goes on, by all of us.  I’m running around dropping kids off, picking them up, going to the folks, bathing them, washing clothes, packing the clothes in the car to bring home to dry, wrestling three kids back in the car.  It’s chaos.  And for my 2 boys, it’s particularly hard as the routine is gone.  Oliver starts playing up at school.  I end up getting a phone call Thursday to come get him as he has stripped off and won’t get dressed.

The weekend comes and he gets all the plumbing supplies, spends 2 days working on the bathroom, moving the bath and sink as planned to give us more room.  I’d asked 3 times if we should just get a plumber- “no I can do it, it’s just some pipes” turns the water back on at 9pm Sunday night and theres now fountains in the bathroom.  My one tap, my one source of water has gone.  My husband is very upset at this point, clearly it’s more than “just pipes” when it comes to plumbing.  I knock on my neighbours door with 2 jugs begging for water, and I get more than water, I get a 20 minute gossip session too with some very juicy stuff.

The mens fit my sink the next day and I could have kissed him, he also emergency repairs the main pipe upstairs and caps off the rest so we have the water back on.  I get the number for a plumber but Leon knows a friend of a friend (I know, I can see whats coming too).  By this point I’m exhausted and stressed and can’t remember when I last slept and still have to do the school run, cope with three displaced kids and my dad feeding me mega portions as I’m “looking too thin and ill”.  The plumber comes, doesn’t fit the waste pipe properly into the outside waste pipe so when I empty the bath it comes down the newly plastered walls (it’s still drying out).  He also managed to take a tape measure, spirit level, screw driver, saw and other items that had been in the tool box.

I cry.  For hours.  My house is not my home, my kids are stressed, I’m stressed, bits are missing from the kitchen, and then someone says to me “it can’t get any worse, it’ll be great when it’s done” and then they listen to me rant for half an hour.  Leon manages to fix the drainage pipe so the bath works, the kitchen men plumb in my washer and cooker.

On Thursday (a week and a half after it started) I move the living room back into the kitchen, I clean non stop, and organise the toys and rug and teddies and I bring the little ones back from school to a home cooked meal.  Oliver’s face was a picture, wreathed in smiles, teddies on the floor, lying down and covering himself in stickle bricks.  Popples not so happy “I need to go to my nana’s”.

The kitchen is done, the bathroom no longer leaks, Oliver is now keeping his clothes on- at school at least, the odd pencil pot stills goes flying but he has calmed down in school, Max is trying to find his way around the kitchen but knows where the coke and crisps are so isn’t overly bothered about much else.  My husband has agreed in future not to attempt plumbing.  I knew it would be hard but this hard?  Although what eejit attempts a bathroom whilst kitchen is being done?

All settled?  Not a chance, with the severe weather Max’s ceiling has a major leak- think we will leave that to the insurance!

 

xx