children

Just flew back in from London yesterday to discover Jake had taken a nasty fall earlier that morning on the way to school.

While running with Rachel and some of their friends, he tripped over somebody's feet and landed face-first on the ground. He didn't even have time to raise his hands to protect himself.

Right now, he's got a glowing red cut on his forehead and his cheekbone and nose are scraped and raw-looking. Poor little fella.

Our good friend Wooftie - on his annual visit from The States - dropped a couple of small-but-expensive presents on Rachel and Jake: Nintendo DS Lites.

At the same time, Lisa's mum gave us a PlayStation 2 and donated a boxful of old games including the highly addictive Star Wars Lego.

We were away this weekend in Ballycastle visiting the folks up there.

Saturday evening was beautiful, so we decided to go for a walk. The weather was warm, but there was a gentle breeze keeping us cool. Rachel and Jake came along on their scooters, riding a bit too fast for comfort (since I was the one trying to keep up with them)!

Over the last few weeks I have felt as though I am banging my head off a brick wall. Jake has always been more free with his hands than Rachel, but over the last six months or so, I have noticed that he rarely hits, kicks or pushes anymore.

Up until recently there was very little differentiation in our home between the toys Rachel played with, and the toys that Jake chose.

If Rachel wanted to play with Barbies or My Little Ponies, then Jake was happy to join in. But in the last few weeks our wee boy has started to emerge. It all started with a Batman figure that my sister bought for him last month, and from then we have seen his interest in boys toys grow and grow.

I read an article today about world birth rates and the fact that the amount of males born is signigicantly higher than the amount of females. It made for very interesting reading, and pointed out that this skewed birth rate is causing problems in some countries (such as China) where men are beginning to find that there just aren't enough women to go around.
Reading the piece reminded me of my feelings and concerns when I found out that I was expecting my sons.

When I was growing up I always imagined a family with at least 2 or 3 daughters, I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a son.

When I found out that I was pregnant with a boy during my second pregnancy I was slightly nervous. I wondered if I could parent a boy, I imagined a crazy toddler turning into a surly young man who is conditioned to bottle up his emotions and remain difficult to reach.

Everyone I spoke to with sons disagreed. Each and every person told me that wee girls are much harder work, they want to rule the house, while boys are much more placid and easy going.

To date my experience has been immensely positive and I can't believe I was ever worried. My three children are all precious to me, it makes no difference what gender they happen to be.

I think my concerns must have stemmed from the fact I have two sisters very close in age to me, my brothers are a lot younger, one has yet to reach his teenage years. As my father was not around for most of my childhood, my experience of family life was very much a female orientated one.

I am lucky to have an excellent husband who is very much involved in the childrens lives. This will hopefully come in useful in those teenage years, when embarrassing topics have to be broached, and my son may not actually want my input into his love life, or romantic crises. And I am now wise enough to realise that my daughter is unlikely to want to confide in me about her first love or hot crushes either. Surly teenage behaviour is not limited to the males of our species, I can all too well remember the trouble I gave my own mother!

My sister is currently 5 months pregnant and strangely, experiencing exactly the same worries as I did, way back when. I am trying to give her the benefit of my experience, but I know that once the baby is born, no matter what the sex is, she will realise for herself, what a precious gift a baby is, and that sex is irrelevant to the love you feel for that person who is piece of you.

I just came across a great post on the Digito Society blog, that references a study carried out to determine what dads like to receive on fathers day.

One third of fathers said that their number one gift preference would be a greeting card, and 14% would like a home cooked meal.

Thank God for that! Gerard has nothing to complain about then. He received not one but two cards. One store bought, one the children made themselves. His breakfast in bed was home cooked, it may have only been fruit and porridge, but it still counts.

In lieu of a huge gift, I would like instead to publicly (and belatedly)thank my husband for being the best dad I know. I appreciate you so much, our kids are going to grow up to be better people because you are so active in their life. One day they will realise how lucky they are!

Following on from my post on outside influences on children, Rachel came off with another cracker this week.

On Friday morning I was trying to coax her into eating her fruit salad before going to school. She was digging her heels in and refusing to do so. She wanted a biscuit and juice, I tried to have the junk food chat but she just wasn't listening. So I told her that she would be getting nothing else to eat until the fruit was finished.

My husband will often tell people that I don't allow him to have any money, or carry an ATM card to withdraw from our bank account. I resent this, as it makes me sound like a tyrant, while the real reason is that he is a pea -brain who loses absolutly everything!

Each time he gets a new ATM card he loses it within a matter of months, if not weeks. When this happens, both our cards have to be cancelled, leaving us with no access to our account for at least 7 days. It's a real hassle!

I have bought him a wallet, which he never uses, so in the end I just stopped ordering new cards. When he lost his, I kept mine and became the main administrator of our finances.

For the last year things have ran smoothly, until last night. I lent Gerard my card to get some petrol for his car, I then let him look after it while we went out for a meal for my dad's 50th birthday. When I asked Gerard for the card this morning to get some groceries, it was nowhere to be found! He is adamant that he didn't lose it, but it isn't anywhere in our house, so I don't know what other conclusion I can draw.

Once again all our cards have now been cancelled. We have no access to our bank account until we can get to the branch on Monday, so we are going to have to scrape by this weeked on the few pounds we have lying about the house and hope we don't starve.  Bang goes that takeaway I was hoping for tonight!

I love fish and chips, and although I have no problem clogging up my own arteries, I do have a problem with doing it to my children.

Tonight, while pondering my dinner menu, I took a real notion for fish and chips with loads of salt and vinegar. Instead of running out for a takeaway I put some oven chips on a baking trap, and got out some frozen cod fillets I had got from the local supermarket.

The cod had no coating, batter or breadcrumbs, and cooked in just 20 minutes in the oven. I cooked them in a knob of butter to prevent them from becoming dry.

When I presented dinner to the kids I waited for the outcry and protests, but they didn't come. I was amazed when Rachel ate some of the fish, given that she rarely lets fish or meat of any kind pass her lips.

We all cleared our plates, even Daniel at only 9 1/2 months ate the fish with his fingers and devoured the baked beans.

I admit that greasy chips and battered cod would have tasted better, but this way I am almost guilt free, and saved at least £10 that I would have spent on a takeaway. You can't beat that!