A normal day

Why is a normal day, never normal? Just so that you get a taste of my post-children, crazy life, on my so called ‘lie in lazy day’, I’ll explain. My phone pinged at 9am to remind me to take Aiden, now 18, to the gym (so much for my lazy day!) I saved my blog that I’d written so far and darted out of bed to wake him up. Aiden’s bedroom is downstairs. I spotted my bra which was neatly hung, on the floor, from last night, so stuck it on so as not to knock myself out running down the stairs! Good move I thought and , I had made a start on getting dressed, clearly not good enough though! As I ran down the stairs, with each thud, wobbles of belly ricocheted in all directions, wearing nothing but my bra, i suddenly heard voice rise from the kitchen below! ‘Morning Vicky!’ as I reach the lower part of the stairs,

(to far to go back) our wonderful cleaner appeared, feather duster in hand, with a somewhat shocked expression upon her face! I continued to run, placing my hands awkwardly to cover myself, although I’m not sure why because it was clearly to late! I carry on passed her with my normal chirpy tone as i go, as if nothing had happened! ‘Morning, lovely day’ I say and disappear into the clothes room. Just to clarify we are not affluent by any means, actually the very opposite – so don’t be fooled by the terms cleaner and clothes room. The clothes room is a box-room fit for no one, it’s more of a glorified cupboard. I got fed up of washing clothes and finding them back in the wash bin still in the folded position I’d left them in. I would wash the clothes, dry them and fold them neatly in piles and then distribute them into the kids bedrooms for them to be put away. However, somehow a few days later I would find them back in the wash bin unworn because they couldn’t be bothered to put them away! Sound familiar? So our solution was to keep everyone’s clothes in one place! Missing out the failing part of the cycle. And as for the cleaner, well I figured I pay less for a cleaner once a week than I would on a takeaway for us 6 so it was a no brainer. Ok, well that’s my excuse anyway.

Let’s hope my day gets better and our wonderful cleaners’ memory isn’t scarred for to long!

Literal thinking

Let me tell you about a car journey that sticks in my mind.

This particular day, one of my best friends left their son aged 5 with me. This was my 1st real encounter with Aspergers before I realised Autism would be apart of my life forever. Proud of myself for leaving the house with, not only a baby but an extra child in tow, I load Aiden into the car which was parked on the drive, in front of the garage. The 5 year old follows me out and stands by the side of me next to the car. ‘Go round the other side’ I say, assuming he’d go round to the other door and get in the car. I continue to fix the seatbelt ensuring the strap is securely around the car seat. A few moments later, I here, ‘help!’ I look up to find my friends little boy completely wedged between the front of the car and the garage door! ‘What are you doing there?’ I say. You said, ‘go round the other side, so I did but I don’t fit through here!’ He was going all the way round the other side of the car to come back and stand on the other side of me! Literal thinking at its best! Learning how to say what you mean is a real skill but something I had to quickly become proficient in. Quietly chuckling to myself, I help him out, load him up and begin our journey to Asda. (Which for the record, was a 10 minute car trip).

The car motion would send Aiden to sleep – halaluya! Sadly though, if I stopped at traffic lights, in traffic, or when we’d reached our destination, he woke up. The perfect baby that I’d planned, was far from perfect! He had the loudest scream ever, so much so, that they called the doctors in when he was born, as they’d never heard anything like it! It was ear piercing! He, however, clearly liked the sound of his own voice because he never stopped screaming. I would do anything to lengthen those brief moments of science in the car when he slept. I began planning the route in my head even before I’d left the house, in order to avoid any traffic and I’d deliberately take a longer route just to avoid the traffic lights! What should have been a nip to Asda became a grand tour around the town and was a whole day event! I thought I was going crazy, a newborn baby was indirectly dictating and taking over my life how does that happen?

A nip to the shops

Today is a day where I amazed myself! A road trip to Wales and we only took 6 minor detours! Yes, I take that as success. The delightful voice that is, Mr Road Map, only shouted at us a few times – ‘proceed to route’ proceed to route’ by the 3rd time I insist on replying to the bloody thing? Which somehow turns into a full blown conversation with him! ‘make a u-turn’, yeeess, I’m trying! ‘proceed to route’ – jeasssss, if I new how to proceed to the god damm route, I would! We just about find our way, to then here, ‘re-calculating’ What, noooo, I’m trying to ‘proceed to route’ like you said! Anyway, with Mr Road Map as the only complaint in my life, I deem our journey a triumphant success!

Powerful word ah? ‘triumphant’. It’s not a word I’d normally use, least of all on a road trip. Well, there’s a simple reason for today’s success – I was child free!

Road trips with children, especially my children are never straight forward!

Since that beautiful spring day when Aiden entered the world, leaving the house became a mammoth expedition. Gone we’re the days where you nip to the shop! NIP! I no longer nip anywhere! I would peel the screaming bundle of joy off my breast at the last possible minute just to minimise the screaming and hoist him into the 2 ton car seat, then load him into the car, along with ‘the bag’. ‘The bag’ which was no longer a delicate handbag, but more like an overnight suitcase, was packed with the bare essentials; nappies, 3 spare outfits for him along with a spare one for me (I had been caught out too many times with exploding boobs, exploding nappies or projectile vomit) I wasn’t letting that happen anymore! Wet wipes became my treasured possession, one pack was never enough, and not forgetting the nipple shields, breast pads, a bottle of formula (Just in case) along with a million dummies of all shapes and sizes (something I vowed, no child of mine would ever posses!)

I’d load the wheels of the pushchair in to the car because I couldn’t lift the car seat once Baby Chunk was in it and then without a thought about how I may look (I hadn’t seen a mirror for days), I was ready to go.

A lie in

A lie in! What’s that? I here you say? Well they are something pre children that I for one took for granted. They used to be the days off work where I would not open my dreary eyes until midday and then proceed to laze around in my pj’s until it was time to get ready for yet another night out! A distant memory!

However, today was the first day of the summer holidays when I didn’t have to get up before 8am! I know, the definition of a lie in has significantly changed overtime but nowadays 8am is like winning the jackpot! Sadly though, my brain was unaware it was ‘lie in day’ and did it’s righteous job of waking me up at 6am! Thanks a bunch! Most of the time I can’t get my brain to engage in the smallest of tasks but not today, she was wide awake and ready to rock! Yey!

So, seeing as I’m bright eyed and bushy tailed (not sure what the bushy tailed bit really means? I have a fat ass so I’ll go with that!) I may aswell introduce myself.

I’m Vicky, aged 40ish although in my head I believe I’m 32! I stuck at 22 for 10 years but figured that became a little unrealistic so I moved on to 32 and have stuck there for a while now! I’m also ultra slim, and super fit! Oh no, hang on, that’s in my head too! The camera seems to show otherwise and apparently the camera never lies although I’m not so sure! I don’t believe these myths – they say exercise is good for you but sports injury clinics make an absolutely fortune, so someone somewhere is lying!

Anyway, I grew up a large city in the south of England. I had an awesome childhood with my big sis. We spent summer holidays with my cousins making up shows, ensuring the boys got female roles just so us girls could dress them up in leotards and put makeup on them! We built dens, camped in the garden and went on caravan holidays to Cornwall.

I also spent a lot of time playing babies with my dolls. I loved babies (and still do). So it’s not surprising that I went on to college to do my NNEB to become a Nursery Nurse/Nanny.

I looked after several children as a nanny in private homes and as a Nursery Nurse in schools and nursery’s – I was in my element! I thought I was an expert in my field, Super Nanny had nothing on me! Every child I looked after was impeccably behaved, polite and smart.

I met my husband, when I was 15 while visiting friends who I’d met on a horse riding holiday (another childhood passion.) A long distance relationship which transformed into a lifetime together – sounds romantic – but pleased be assured it’s been no easy ride.

Fast forward to my early 20’s and I had a perfect little house and a perfectly decorated little nursery all ready for my tiny bundle of joy . How hard could it be? It’s something I did all day everyday and got paid for…

Unknowingly, Spring 2000, those ‘lie in days’ that I had once relished in, and taken for granted were gone for good and a not so tiny (10lb 1oz) bundle of joy came into the world (yet again, the goal posts of definition seemed to have moved over night – ‘bundle of joy’ had a whole we meaning!) If you call, no sleep, and continuous screaming, joy, then yes, he fitted the bill!

But here is where my journey into the unknown world of additional needs began! Aiden was born screaming extremely loudly, so much so they called the doctors in and he didn’t stop for what seemed like forever!

A journey that came with no manual, no explanation and a journey I knew absolutely nothing about! #specialneeds #disability

I don’t know how you do it!

Well here it is!

After years of people telling me I should write a blog about my crazy life, I am finally going to do it!

You may ask why I have chosen to title the page ‘I don’t know how you do it?’ The simple answer is because this is a phrase I receive on a daily basis and one I quietly mutter a sarcastic response under my breath to, because i’m never really sure what I’m meant to say! Is that a compliment? Or are they just grateful it’s not their life? Either way I’m not sure I have much choice! I simply deal with the hand I was delt, in the only way I know how! Who’s knows if it’s the right way or the wrong way but we’re all still alive so I must be doing something right and until I learn another way, I guess I’ll carry on.

My blogs will not be perfectly written because I am no writer, I am also hugely dyslexic, so the grammar will be incorrect as will the spelling but I’m sure you’ll get the gist.

I’ll blog about past and present events, some happy, some sad, some funny and some probably no so funny but as I’ve learned throughout my journey, if you don’t laugh you’ll cry and trust me, it’s far more fun to laugh it off.

My first post after this initial intro, will be an introduction to myself and my family – however in my true disorganised state, I am sat on the beach with no battery left, so I am going to post what I’ve written so far, in case I lose everything, which would be just my luck! When I’m recharged with phone battery and mental ability I’ll post again. Welcome all and happy reading!

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