Me and my boy

Last Saturday I planted the seed for a Sunday 'muddy welly walk'. Well as you can imagine the response from a house full of children was ecstatic! 'Yay! We can't wait!' No! The reality of the situation was that the girls being all too busy these days just couldn't, so that just left myself and the boy. At least someone shares an interest in the wonderful excitement of the British outdoors!
The boy is a born adventurer, it's in his blood.
So we donned the boots and comfy clothes and equipped with a snack-packed Star Wars rucksack we ventured out on our seven mile hike.

*Incidentally, I dismissed the boy's suggestion to take water as we weren't going far and later regretted that decision as it was actually quite warm!

I cannot tell you how lovely a day with my boy was. I live my days in constant worry of him as on a day-to-day basis, he's not interested in learning the things that his schoolboy-peers are gearing towards. As he told me 'Mum, when we have an Alien Apocalypse, I'll be fine!' Right! That doesn't make me feel a whole lot better.

We've recently started up a history group with a number of other families. For the past two weeks we've been learning about Prehistoric Britain. It's incredibly interesting! My boy is totally a 'Hunter gatherer man' in the making. Already, at the tender age of ten, I am confident that he could survive for a few nights in the wild. But how relevant are these skills in today's society where life is all about how well you did in your exams (how good your memory skills are), whether you can use a computer and how much beer you can sink? Listening to the young man gibber on - undistracted myself, was a heart warming experience. My boy may not be taking the traditional path but he is filled with knowledge and not just that, he is able to apply his knowledge to everyday situations. Barely ten feet passed when I wasn't alerted to something fascinating ....'Look at.....did you see?.....Wow!' I really was blown away.

A mile into our walk and I was put in a position out of my comfort zone. A dead pheasant next to the road, clearly a victim of a 'hit and run' crime. The boy lifted its head and with the onset of rigour- mortise the whole body - flattened in its mould to the concrete, lifted with it. Hmmm! He carefully lowered it down and took a step forwards, then out came the string.......

Look at that mischievous face!

'Boy!'
'I'm taking it.....'
'Surely not! You have no idea how long it's been there'.
'I'll take it now and smell it. Besides, I have been looking for a real target. I need to see if my arrows will really penetrate through flesh'.
Oh boy! Yuck!
But I cannot knock him. Although a lover of animals and all living creatures, he has a point. Better to test your arrows on a dead pheasant then to badly injure a living one!
So there we were two lonely travellers walking with a road-killed pheasant onto the grounds of a local shooting estate. This was going to be interesting! We engaged in conversation about what we were going to say should we be challenged carrying said 'dead pheasant' dangling on a piece of string!

It wasn't long before dead pheasant became heavy and the string was cutting into his little hands. I was not about to offer my services! The boy of course had a solution and tied his piece of string onto his walking stick (another essential walking implement). Now looking quite a lot like Dick Whittington, we carried on.

We could hear a keeper in the woods, even passed his gun sleeve and jacket, but we were not challenged and thankfully, neither were we shot!

Selfie....pheasant had to be in on the act!

Our walk was full of incredible finds. We tracked animals from their droppings and faeces, we filled our Skittles pouch with blackberries, we picked fresh watercress from the stream and Boy of course hopped in and found a couple of crayfish hidden under stones which he wanted to bring back but you know, I wasn't too happy offering to carry those!

A mile to go and the need for refreshments incurred. I was so pleased the boy had thought to bring some little snacks and rather disappointed in myself for dismissing the need for water. Hey ho! A little rest in the shade and we were off on our last leg home.

Fresh watercress....it rather wilted by the time we arrived home but was non-the-less delicious souped!

I learnt so much from my boy during that walk which I realise that in my bid for him to toe-the-line I am quite literally distracting from the person he is on a very strong mission to become. He has taught himself so many life skills. Okay so he may not be able to write or read at the level of kids of his age but he can survive and he knows about the real world not the mindless world that we are often living in through technology. I am actually in awe of him!
You go boy, go out and become a man :-) XXXX

Winter rambling

I felt in good spirits this morning. I do love Sundays! Lazy relaxed days that have no definite beginning and usually cosy ends. Sundays in Winter seem the most special ones of all. I love nothing more than pottering about at home bundled up in a rather hotch potch mix of snuggly clothes, getting stuff done. No school work, no groups ....bliss!

This morning I was the first one up and after busying myself with the mundane 'must do's' for an hour or so, I felt the desperate urge to go out and experience the sunshine that was beaming in through the kitchen window. Amazingly, when I asked if anyone would like to join me, one child rather enthusiastically agreed! He also rather to my surprise, wanted to bring a tape measure with him so that he could catch oysters and measure them. Well of course, not wanting to quash the faintest hint of a maths activity, even on a weekend, I happily agreed and waited patiently for him to gather up his things.
I should have known......said oyster catching activity was in fact The Boy's plan to have me take him fishing!

It was freezing cold this morning and just the perfect morning to be out and about whilst wrapped in warm layers. The lake was mostly frozen over which added to the excitement. Even Jenny dog was pleased to be out, she ran off and found a pile of stinky poop to rub her neck in.......



The Boy is really quite responsible these days so after a short while of interested observations on my part, I was able to stroll off around the lake to admire the beauty of the light as it enhanced the incredible colours and created stunning reflections on the ice. I marvel at the beauty of this amazing place every time I walk here and thank my lucky stars that I have access.

Jenny dog is pretty good at staying close by as an elderly lady of ten, she used to be a total pain in the butt and run off chasing anything that moved as a youngster. Today she thought it rather fun to disturb the birds that were resting in the reeds by the waters edge and almost had her comeuppance as a result. I was almost all the way round when she thought she'd try walking on the ice. Silly dog! That horrid moment of thought that crosses your mind ......thankfully all was well!

The Boy was most excited upon my return to announce that he had caught a perch. A teeny weeny one but nether the less a fish :-)

*Fish was returned to the water unharmed.

Snot!

I was only thinking the other day, how lucky my children are to rarely suffer with illness. Whilst friends around us seem to be succumbing to everything that goes, we seem to somehow manage to escape things in the main. It always happens though doesn't it, those moments of thought inevitably lead to a bout of something yucky. 
Since two weeks before Christmas we have been trying desperately hard to avoid all ills so as not to scupper our holiday plans. The essence of a stomach bug crept in in early December but luckily only one child was affected and that was very brief. Fortunately all were fit and well during our mini break to Shropshire and during our ten day ski trip.
This week however, The Boy has been hit by the Common Cold and it's bad!
I wouldn't say Man Flu bad; he hasn't been complaining or overly reaping the benefits of my caring nature. Poor boy has however been really bunged up and coughing like a trooper. What has been really funny though is that throughout his ordeal, he's been giving us a frequent running commentary of his ails. It's gone a lot like this......

Day 1: 'Mum, I've blown a whole mugful of snot out this morning!'

Day 2: 'I'll tell you what happens at night....this crispy stuff forms a layer across my nostrils (notrils in blocked nose language) and that stops all the snot from pouring out'.

'I had to empty my pile of snotty tissues into the bin at midnight last night as it was sooo big!'

The Boy produced a very large 'bogie-looking' piece of some jelly stuff which he proceeded to tease the girls with for the best part of an hour!

Day 3: Me: Lightly touches boy on the head whilst he sleeps as he hadn't been coughing all night. 'How are you feeling today?'

'It's gone! I didn't have to empty my snot pile into the bin!'

School work was suppose to resume this week and for two out of three it did. In the world of The Boy THIS....is what constituted work!



How angelic....he made a quill out of a goose feather......

and then.......

Boy's will be boy's!

Not a ferret please.......

"Mum, I've been watching videos on how to catch rabbits and I could do with a ferret!"

Noooooooooo!!!!! Surely not. Woman feels completely out of her comfort zone. Eeekkk! A ferret......they smell and they bite! No. I cannot, will not....no, no, no, definitely no ferrets!

So this is the latest in a long string of dilemmas that I am having to deal with. It's not easy living with a boy whom constantly challenges my squeamishness, my moral and dietary values. From his final mutterings of the evening to the first comprehensible chit chat of the morning, talk is of dens and hunting. How? Why? Living in a girly, caring and compassionate, vegetarian household, you would imagine that the boy may be somewhat influenced and toe-the-line, but this is not the case - in fact, the situation is quite the reverse. 

This morning, I had hoped that the boy would do a little school work before trundling off into the wilderness that is his world, but no...I stand witness to the army gear being adorned and am asked promptly to venture out into the cold to view the latest den, complete with pizza oven! Hey! I have to say it's pretty good. I'm incredibly impressed with the creativity that I witness. The boy joins me on a morning dog walk but not empty handed. I am to hear and witness the latest bow and arrow creation as it is put through the rigours of testing. The poor dog scuttles from the undergrowth only to have the  string pulled until taught and the arrow aimed at her unsuspecting head. Lucky for the dog that the boy doesn't release the arrow but realises ahead of time that the dog is in fact not the monk jack that he would like her to be. We talk of pheasants and plucking them and roasting them on the fire as well as the potential butchering of said deer WHEN he catches one. It is beyond me. It is tempting to prevent and put a stop to this interest but quashing the spirit of the child would kill his soul; the very light that is his driving force. Instead I continue to reside in an environment that supports and nurtures, where help and advice are at hand, where country pursuits are a way of life - I rejoice and celebrate the boy that I have bore and the man that he will one day become.

Oooh! Here is is again....."Mum, can I have a potato...and some foil?" "Yes of course, I'll get you a little one". "No, a big one!".....Hmmmm! It must be lunch time :-) 

It's all about hunting.....

Jee whizz! Life with my boy is all about hunting and gathering these days. I've been panicking that he's not up to scratch with the three R's but you know, the life skills learnt from those lessons are not going to help in the event of a major disaster. I feel pretty confident that should such an event occur, then I shall certainly stand a chance of remaining safe and well looked after in his care.
There is of course a price to pay living with a creature of such a wild disposition.....life literally revolves around den building, fishing, shooting, catapulting, egg/nest hunting, digging and general outdoor living. It challenges me daily.

Little old me really doesn't share the same interests, although I am pleased that he spends so much of his time exploring nature. I feel somewhat queasy and rather weak at the knees at some of the tasks I am expected to assist with. The first time I took him fishing, I had that sudden realisation that I would have to be the one to deal with the slimy little fish and remove them from the hook....uuurrrrrgggghhhh! I shudder at the thought. Lucky for him he has learnt to deal with such matters himself these days. I guess it was a matter of necessity on his behalf lest he should pursue his interest.

Yesterday I finally gave in to the constant badgering for a cray fishing trip (or crawfish as they are known in the US). Normally I have to rectify and bring back from the ashes our rather battered homemade nets, but this year the boy took it upon himself to repair them, and a great job he did too. So at school collection time we packed two rather battered nets; ready filled with stinky dog food, in the back of the car. Uuurrrggghhh! Dog food really isn't a pleasant aroma at the best of times! The conversation on the way to the school all related to potentially well stocked streams with convenient 'net dropping' access points.....Poor Little lady, after a tiring first day at school she had to endure the stench of the dog food and an overexcited brother during our planned homeward detour.

Popping the nets into the river is a breeze for the boy now, he's done it several times with myself and a friend and so on this occasion I was able to sit in the car and well...... chat to my sister whilst I waited. It wasn't until I found myself sitting in the same spot before 8.30am this morning that it occurred to me that I was actually there as an accomplice in the crime of poaching! Suddenly the thought of the headline news strikes me. Eeeekkk! 'Mother of three brought before magistrates for poaching'......'but I'm a vegetarian and wanna be animal rights activist!'
So you can guess what someones having for supper tonight, luckily he is dealing with everything (cooking and all) by himself and we didn't get caught! :-)

Boy turns 9

Where did that time go? One minute I have possession of a little squigglier and the next a nine year old boy fully aware of his own being and destiny it seems.
Much to the gut rendering pain of myself and the girls, one small boy had been planning his birthday extravaganza for one whole year (since his last birthday actually). It has been really painful and difficult can I say, to maintain the level of enthusiasm that the boy required. This does tend to happen frequently in our house. An idea becomes all encompassing and then loses its strength and appeal to the extent that when you finally reach your destination or in this case 'the big day', it's all a bit of a let down - you've just worked yourself up too much for it!



This year it was rather like that. The hype, the annoyance - it really would have been easy to have lost our way and given up on the idea some months back (the girls did), but I 'JUST' about managed to curb the excitement and keep things at a bearable level until a couple of days before the big day.
So this years event took shape from the vast numbers of children that were invited. Almost daily I would hear of a new person that could potentially be arriving. 'All lovely' I hear you say and yes it is but logistically it's a nightmare. You have to ensure that you have enough food for all children and potentially staying parents as well, and you have to have plans, it's pretty ought 'winging it' with so many children. Twenty odd or so children free range in our world could all go terribly wrong! There's also the size of the house to consider should it rain. My house fits us four well but twenty excitable young people and parents.......not even a consideration, outside it was to be - regardless of the weather!
We are fortunate to have a vast area surrounding our house with natures entertainment in abundance. It's totally perfect for children, but with twenty odd......The young man was incredibly influential and creative in his plans for entertainment. Firstly he insisted on a piñata and secondly a chocolate fountain, he also set about creating an obstacle course for his buddies which I thought was a brilliant idea! He sourced heaps of materials from around the place including old tyres and a paddling pool, plus planks to walk along and blocks to jump over - really rather clever! I wasn't so pleased to hear that there were to be leeches in the pool though and friends were expected to walk the plank of doom that crossed it! Hmmm!!




Other than that, pass the parcel was on the agenda - I'm sorry but that game it just rubbish (really thinking of a different word but not wishing to offend!)....what is the point of throwing a parcel around  circle and ensuring it stops on every child? Surely the children must realise the whole thing is  a total fix. Not in my world. Over the years I have become quite rebellious where parties are concerned; a birthday shouldn't be just about the presents and the birthday child does not win everything and there are NO party bags! There, I've said it. For us a birthday party is a time of celebration. Yes of course the birthday child feels special but so do his/her buddies and their parents who are also made to feel part of the action. So the pass the parcel parcel lands randomly, it may land on some children twice or three times and others 'not at all' but that's how life is!
The piñata was a lot of fun. The young man wanted to buy one but somehow the idea was born that we should have a go at making one out of papier mache. I love papier mache! It's been quite some years since i've whipped up my speciality flour and water glue to smother the thing and create a masterpiece. We used an inflated balloon and covered it in layers of the gloop and ripped up newspaper then hung it from the slats in the airing cupboard to dry before adding the next layer. Amazingly the airing cupboard was the perfect place for drying the balloon and it hardened to a remarkably solid mass. Fen's initial plan had been to paint the balloon with a face but we settled on gluing leaves to it and from then on, a camouflage theme was suggested.
The final touch was to dig a fire pit. I was all too keen to minimise work and just use a barbecue as a base for a fire but in full spirit the boy ventured out and dug his own pit and surrounded it with stones to stop it spending and logs for bottoms!


I am thrilled to report a fabulous day was had by all!

Ed note: As always written a while back but only just posted!

Mother in a mother/father role

To all you wonderful father's out there, a very happy father's day! What exactly does that mean to you?.........

I woke up this morning and as part of my 'getting ready' morning ritual. I happened to glance in the mirror upon which I thought, 'I am playing the role of both mother and father to my children'. I know I'm not alone, many of us are struggling along making the best of the situations that we find ourselves in. Parenting is no easy feat to either mother or father but playing both roles is....well, let's be frank, 'not what I signed up to!' Us mother's need help, we need responsible males to act as role models to our future men, it simply isn't good enough to turn your backs on the younger generation and single mother's and expect them to function and do the whole job alone. The same applies in reverse for all the single father's out there.

Tea anyone?

I function on daily basis in the knowledge that my friends and some family members are there to support me.  But I have to confess I do feel let down. In the four and a half years that I have been on this parenting journey alone, not one person has genuinely taken my son under their wing to initiate them into the world of men, yet all too often I am faced with criticism relating to incidences of unruly behaviour. What happened to the old saying and action 'It takes a village to raise a child?' We shouldn't be faced with a world where we feel we are running the show alone.

On days when I'm feeling glum about the whole journey it helps to imagine how proud my late husband would be of me and of our children. He would know that I would rise to the challenge. Unfortunately he would also be rather furious of those who are part of my world whom have no or little involvement. 

Facing the parenting journey as a widow is a completely different experience to that of the single parent who has an ex partner who does at least have contact with the children. Unless you have an amazingly supportive family the widow's journey is incredibly lonely and one of survival. Everyday is challenging in different ways - you learn to accept your lot and deal with it the best you can - what choice do you have?

Fishing.....not a morsel caught

My boy is growing up into a lovely individual. Yes he does have his moments but generally I am hopeful that he will one day become a  decent and caring individual, he'll certainly have a good knowledge and much experience of women; it would be difficult not too when surrounded by three of them! He's always been an independent chap but now I'm seeing the fruits of my labour and his freedom coming to fruition.

This last week the boy has started calling me 'Sweet pea' - I love it! He frequently displays genuinely caring and compassionate behaviour; a sign to me that he is maturing in the right direction.

Despite living in a house full of females, he remains very much a male.
Recently I've admired how my boy has developed and mastered strong survival skills, from his own innate curiosity. I encourage him to help out around the house but more often than not he uses his own initiative and gets stuck into a task. The boy works hard, he's a grafter like his father; I've never witnessed such determination and a thorough hard working ethic in any other man. Just this last week I made the decision to cut down a tree that stood in our gateway which unfortunately had become diseased and died. The boy (with a little help from his sisters) saw and helped with the job from the cutting down right through to the final clear up of all the twigs. Not once did he complain or bore but laboured on alongside me.

The remaining tree stump took on a new role in the garden the following day. The boy arose early sourced all his tools and beavered away all day creating a platform for himself (and his cup I was later informed!).

I'm not just witnessing practical skills, there's also a sense of care for animals. This little fledgling was found rambling on the ground near the boys newly created vegetable garden. He brought it in to show me, having been keen to rescue it and keep it from the reach of our moggie. It makes me smile to witness how he returns to check on such creatures time and time again :-)

Tadpoles are interesting creatures....

The poor boy witnessed one of his guppies die this week. It took three whole days for the poor little fish to make the transition. Fen, although upset initially, almost seemed relieved when it finally passed and gave a great deal of attention to burying it in the garden. I was in the bath when he returned from his duty and he slipped one arm around the door, not wanting me to see his sadness as it had obviously been an emotional moment for him. Later he told me how he had created a grave and covered it so that the cat couldn't dig it up. Upon inspection he had drawn a heart, F and B for 'fish' and 'bubbles' on a piece of slate to mark the spot.
It's tough for me dealing with things outside of my comfort zone on a daily basis but even more daunting for the boy having to live in a female dominated household. He copes amazingly well and remains true to himself and his being. I feel so privileged to witness his journey into manhood unfold, I just wish his father and other significant males were available to witness it and be apart of his life too.

Spot the newt

Best of friends....