Friday, 30 October 2015

Trick or treating relief

This year while other parents are chasing their kids around the streets in search of candy, my son will be safely tucked up at home in the warm.

This wasn't a conscious decision on our part. It was a choice my son actually made on his own after his first and only Halloween outting a few years back. 

despite initially being excited by the idea of free candy and spooky costumes, Kye found trick or treating less worthwhile than he imagined it would be. Largely due to the fact that his first year we had torential rain and on returning home his special Halloween bag had essentially let all the water in and he had a decidedly soggy collections of candy. 

Ever since he has perferred to stay home on Halloween and eat the candy we always have here just encase anyone comes knocking, so far; however, no one ever has. I suspect it's because we live in a small village, on a street that is mainly frequently by elderly couples and the parents of the village kids are respectful enough to leave the old foke in peace this time of year. 

At any rate we do often have a lot of candy left over, which Kye does get to enjoy. 

Despite the fact that my son never wants to go trick or treating, I do still ask. 

This is the chat we had a few days ago regarding the matter:

Me: Are you sure you don't want to go trick or treating?

Kye: "yes"

Me: "Okay, why don't you want to go?"

Kye: "because it's cold and I can get sweets at home without having to get cold."

Me: "Yeah, but if you go out you get to see everyone else in their costumes and dress up yourself. Whereas if you stay home you know no one ever knocks on our door."

Kye: "that's why I get all the sweets"

Me: "Yes, but it's exciting to go to people's houses and be surprised by what you get."

Kye: big sigh! "Fine then, you can drive me to granny's and I will see what sweets she's got."

He's so cheeky, especially as his grannie lives an hour away. 

Anyway you can see Kye's thought process. Why go out in the cold and work for my sweets when I can get them at home without any effort?

The thing is though I am actually kinda relieved by this  and here's why. 

All year long we tell our kids don't talk to strangers and don't take sweet from strangers, but come Halloween all the rules change. Suddenly we are happily encouraging them to go up to every door in the neighbourhood, to talk to people they don't know and to take candy from strangers. 

Now Kye has issues with the whole, don't talk to strangers thing as it is. He loves people and I know if put to the test on his stranger danger knowledge he would fail miserably. Because not only would he talk and accept sweets, but he would quite happily get in a car or go off with a stranger too. This is impart due to how Kye thinks or doesn't think, because when it comes to choices Kye just goes for it, no thinking needed, he'll pick what he believes to be the funniest, most gratifying or easiest option, every time. 

This is to do with his learning difficulties, but still how sure can you be that your kid wouldn't do the same and this is the problem, most of us think our kids won't, that they are smart enough to remember everything we have taught them.

Sadly, when put in an actual situation like that most fail. As this video shows. 

What about if they were trick or treating and they were told to come in to get their candy? Would they be smart enough to say no? 

Now how scary is that? I mean imagine if this had not been a social experiment, but a real child predator. It just doesn't bare thinking about. 

Yet frequently, Parents will drop their kids off in a street and wait for them to do the rounds of the houses and what if the threat wasn't in a house, but on the street in a car or van? How long would it be before you even knew your kid was missing?

There are also stories of sweets being tampered with in deadly ways. Such as being coated in poisonous substances. Thankfully the poisonous substance thing seems to be more fiction than fact, so far, but as most of us know, fiction has a way of becoming fact. It just takes one sick twisted mind to think it might be fun to try, for our kids to be put at risk. 

In fact the only actual case I could find of someone handing out candy that had been poisoned was a father who contaminated his own children's candy with Cyanide. The result of this was the death of his son. He did this in order to claim on the life insurance policy he had taken out against his kids, but in the process of trying to make his story seem real he also handed out these sweet to two neighborhood kids. Thankfully they didn't eat the sweets, but what if they had?

Sharp objects hidden in candy is another halloween horror story we frequently here and this one actually has some truth to it. Sharp objects actually have been found hidden in halloween candy, how commen this is, I really have no idea but it does happen. 

However you look at it there are real risks at halloween.

Having an axiety disorder I am always very careful when it comes to my son. Especially given his learning disabilities and that fact that he is far to trusting. 

So on the one occaission we did go trick or treating, I was very aware of where he was at all times. Please, ensure you do the same with your kids this Halloween. 

Stay safe out there and have fun. 

So what are your plans this Halloween? Do you have a child like mine, who'd rather stay home? Perhaps you prefer your child to stay home, feeling that it's no longer safe to Trick or treat? It are you a family that fully embrace Halloween. What ever the case, I'd love to hear from you. 

Love and hugs 
Joss xx

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Life in general

So it's another early morning for me, although I'm not all together sure why, the best I can say is that last nights attempt at sleep was a bust. Every time I thought I had it down, I would wake up again, toss and turn, contemplate getting up, the force myself back to sleep again.

In all honesty though, I felt like I spent more time awake than asleep and so at around 3am I gave up altogether, crawl out of my pit, got dressed and headed for the living room, with the lovely Mia in tow. 

Mia is the cute Kitty gazing up into cam, behind her is her lovely sister Molly.

It's safe to say that I am getting pretty fed up with my erratic sleep patterns and am somewhat disappointed to find that even with my new pain relief I am still struggling to sleep. 

I guess that means it wasn't the pain alone that was keeping me up. 

So the meds! Well, having taken Solpadol before I know that it can cause some pretty serious nausea and a fair amount of drowsiness. Sadly that didn't help me last night. 

Since starting now to take it again I've not really felt sleepy, but I have at times felt a little spaced out. What I have had in bucket loads is the nausea, but I know this will pass once my body adjusts and that this brief period of discomfort is more than worth it for the pain relief Solpadol  gives. 

Something I don't remember feeling before is the sense that my stomach is essencially hollow and eating itself. That sounds so strange I know, but it's really hard to explain. This feeling doesn't come with a sense of being hungry as you might expect, which just makes it all the more strange. 

I'm wondering if it actually has to do with the fact that my appetite for the last few months has been pretty none existent. 

When I eat it's in very small amounts, which is incredibly rare for me, and even those very small portions I struggle to eat. 

I've not seen this as a bad thing. After all I need to lose a lot of weight, but it seems to be creating a new side effect when combined with the Solpadol, to the point that the only way to ease the strange feeling is to force myself to eat something I don't really want, a solution that also works well to reduce the feeling of nausea. 

Again though I am not to fazed by this side effects. In the past the nausea disappeared after my body got used to the Solpadol and I am hopeful that this will prove to be the case again. 

As for my new anxiety medicine. I really don't know too much about it at this point other than what I have read in the leaflet. It's a tiny pill that I take once a day and is called Citalopram. 

I have to admit that the anxiety tablets always make me a little nervous, mainly because they always seem to carry the warning that your anxietys may get worse before they get better. 

On top of this, it irks me that they are also for depression and I know that is the case for most anxiety pills, but it leaves me feeling as if I'm being accused of that too, when I am definitely, 100% not depressed.

 I know this because I have suffered from depression before and I guess it's silly, but I was really proud of myself for slowly crawling out of that dark hole and don't like the though of anyone thinking that I am back there when I am not.

So far I have only taken one dose of the anxiety medication and if there are any side effects I really couldn't tell you, because I have pretty much taken all my side effects to be due to the Solpadol. 

Although I could be wrong and perhaps that hollow, stomach eating itself feeling is a result of the Citalopram and not the Solpadol. 

One thing is for sure though, I am loving the pain relief the Solpadol provides. Especially given that yesterday, for the first time in a long time, I was able to knock out nearly 7000 words in one day. 

Okay so maybe a large quantity of them were complete trash and will be relogated to the bin, but that's okay, because as the day wore on I did find my stride and feel that I have a least one great chapter in there that's worth keeping. 

Given my sleep deprivation, I am aiming to get just a couple of thousand words done today. On top of this blog post. 

After that I think I will snuggle up under my blanket and have a movie day with my son. 

So how about you? What are your plans for the day?

The weather here at the moment is pretty nasty and there were predictions last week that bad storms were heading our way. 

It's my husband I feel for at times like these as he has no choice but to head on out in it and having a job building conservatories and fitting windows and doors it means he is pretty much outside and dealing with the elements 85% of the time. 

With the winter creeping in, I know he is gonna be coming in wet and miserable on a regular basis. Thankfully, he has me and Kye to help cheer him up and provide him with warm, dry clothes fresh out of the tumble dryer. 

It's funny, because winter used to be the best part of the year for me, but not anymore. I loath it with a passion now. Largely because the cold makes my pain so much worse. 

I'm not alone in this either, my poor old boy Harley de is much the same. 

Yesterday was a particularly cold and miserable day and he was not impressed. Every trip to the garden was made in a very slow, sulky manner. With frequent pleading looks throws my way, in the hopes of earning a reprieve and also a couple of sneak attempts to hide under the quilt in the bedroom, while I was not looking, in the hopes of being forgotten in the mayhem of escorting a spinning, happy, everything is oh so wonderful Ludo, outside. 

My memory maybe bad, but I've yet to actually forget that I have two dogs and not one, still I guess you can't blame him for trying.

As much as Harley loathe going out in the cold, even with his coat on, it's important that he does and regularly because you see Harley's bladder is not what it used to be and being an old boy, the urge to pee sometimes creeps up on him, resulting in a very startled and embarrassed de, running across the room living a trickle trail of pee in his wake as he desperately try's and fails to make it to the back doors. 

He's a very proud old man is my De and he does not like to wet himself, but these things happen for all of us when we get older and if he stop being such a stubborn old fool and accept that regular bathroom breaks are indeed required, maybe he would see that I am saving him from the mortification that comes, from his old bladder deciding to empty without a moments notice.

My dog has old man issues.

I actually succeeded in irking him even more yesterday. When I attached an inflatable collar to his normal collar. 

It for medical reasons as all summer Harley has been plagued by seemingly phantom itches that have caused him to chew himself bare in places. 

Despite mutiple flea treatment, skin treatments and the soothing application of many creams we have yet to discover an actual cure.

The vet believes that his skin has just become more sensitive with age. Meaning that just one flea bite can drive him berserk.

We have now been advised that Harley needs to wear his protective collar pretty much all the time, as soon as we see any sign of chewing. Even if that means the thing is never off, because as the vet pointed out, even when a dog has been treated for fleas it won't stop a flea being picked up off the grass, while outside and biting down and as just one bite is enough to send Harley into a week long chewing session due to his now very sensitive skin, it means Harley is just going to have to get used to his new tire like attire. His is a picture of Mr sulky wearing his new collar. 

He was not amused, but at least it's better then one of those horrible plastic cones. 

On all other fronts, Harley is doing much the same as always. His cataracts is no worse or better, meaning his eyesight isn't great, but he has yet to lose his sight completely. His hearing is also no worse or better and yet again he has yet to lose it completely. His glands are good, the arthritis is no worse or better and the lump on his leg hasn't grown any bigger or changed in a way that the vet feels is concerning. So again, he wants to leave it be and just keep and eye it. This is the standard practice with Harley now, mainly because of his age, as the vet is loath to put him under unless absolutely nessicary, as the risks are greater with older dogs.

There is; however some good news, with regards to my old boy, he has now lost enough weight that the vet is happy that he is at an acceptable weight range for his combination of breeds. 

For those of you who don't know, Harley is my extra special pup, mainly because he has been with me since he was born. Before if you count when he was in his mummies tummy, as his mum Tamika was my dog also, as was his Gran Sasha.

 I watched de be born, the first pup and only boy in a litter of 6, at 3am Christmas morning 2000. He has been with me ever since and was the best early morning Christmas present I ever had. 

Now 14 and soon to be 15 he is a contancarous old fool, who likes nothing better than to gripe and moan about, well pretty much everything.

He has been a part of  my family even longer than my husband and is so unbelievably important to me, that I dread  to think what a mess I will be the day he eventually leaves me to head for the rainbow bridge. (I've told him he's not allowed to leave me and I am hoping he'll be as stubborn as his father in this matter and cling onto life until he's twenty, if not longer.)

You see the problem is, a home just doesn't seem like a home to me anymore without a Harley de in it and I really cannot comprehend, the possibility of my  grumpy old git being gone. Especially as he is the only mature adult in this house, who is able to keep us all in check. 

And I can't imagine our lovely loopy lu every taking over that role, he is far to gentle and clownish himself. 

Aww look at my babies. 

You know I had an odd chat yesterday with a woman who made me pretty made 

She was advertising a need to rehome her 16 year old cat, due to moving close to a main road. Now, I can understand that sometimes things happen which mean we can no longer keep our pets, due to circumstances out of our control, perhaps, but this didn't sound like it was out of her control at all.

So her add reads very basically: 


Desperately after a home for my 16 year old cat who is called puma, we are moving and will be near a main road and worried he will get run over. Please contact if you can help. 

This was followed by a couple of pictures of that cat sitting on a hard concrete floor, not even looking at the cam. As if she couldn't really be bothered. 

Now puma is a beautiful black cat with a bit of a brown chest. Short haired, just adorable.

So a girl comments before me and say "Can you not just keep him and keep him as an indoor cat. Given his age he shouldn't really care to much and you have to keep him in for 6 weeks after moving anyway."

To which no response came.

So I chimed in "Contact Sammy Bell, she works for Hilltop animal haven and they give elderly animals, inpaticular cats a forever home, in a home environment. That said, I agree with the previous commenter about possibly just keeping your cat I as that would be nicer for the cat than having to settle into a new home at 16."

I get a reply saying "Thank's I will contact Sam."

Sam tells her that she will have to wait until Monday for an answer because Sam's boss is away. She also adds that Puma will need to be up to date with his jabs before they can take him as they have a lot of elderly and poorly kitties and cannot risk Puma bringing anything in that might make them poorly. Which is standard practice. 

To which the woman reveals that she cannot wait that long as he needs to be gone by Monday. 

Now, you have to assume she has known for a while that she is moving, so why has she left it so late to try and find him a home, but let's give her the benefit of the doubt and say that perhaps it was a sudden move and all very rushed and unexpected. 

I ask "Well what will you do if you can't find him a home by Monday?" To which she replies thankfully. 

" I don't know. We'll keep trying I guess or have to see if we can find him a temporary home." Well at least it wasn't "put him to sleep."

So I suggest that perhaps if she gives a bit more information it will help in finding him a home. 

To this I get a private message.

"Could you not take him?"

I have four cats, two dogs and three rabbits. No intention of having anymore. So I say. "Well, I don't know about that, my house is pretty full. Maybe I could take him temporarily if Sammy's boss says they can take him. He could stay with me until his jabs are up to date and hilltop are ready to take him I guess, but I have so many animals and need to know that he is going to be okay with other cats and dogs and also if he is castrated because I don't need an intact male coming in and fighting with my poor Tom cat." 

To this she responds that she doesn't know about dogs but with cats he is fine and yes he is castrated. 

Now my collie is very boisterous and de man takes no crap. If Puma were to try and tell De off, he'd be bound to get a telling off back. So it's really not sounding like a good idea to me, however, short term I figure I can keep them all happily apart so I say. 

"I guess I would have to keep them apart then, but I guess it would still be doable as long as you had definite confirmation before hand that he could go to hilltop once his jabs were all up to date." 

"And you'll pay for them, right?" She says. 

Wait a minute, what I never said that. Why would she think I would pay for her cats jabs. Deep breath.

"No you would need to do that.
Straight away she comes back with. "Oh it doesn't matter someone from my village is going to feed him until the new people move into this place and then they are going to keep him so he can at least stay in his own home now."

And I'm thinking "Wow, she arranged that fast. But tell her that great and wish her and Puma all the best.

About half an hour later I am on the phone to Sam discussing the strange events and when I tell her about our private messaging Sam says, "I bet you, she just leave that cat and that she doesn't really have anyone to look after him."

Naturally this made me really nervous and I'm thinking could someone really so that to a cat they've had so long.

Well when I voice this to Sam she says, "Oh yes, we see it all the time. We've had people ring us and ask us to take their elderly cat or dog because of all kinds of silly reasons. Such as... "Our old dog doesn't like new puppy, will you take him?" Him being the old dog and not the new puppy. "Our old cat doesn't match our new furniture, will you take him?" I kid you not that really happened. "Our kids are bored with them and want a new pet, if you don't take them we will have to put them to sleep." Two of our cats" she continued, "Actually came from the vets after the owners just walked in said "we don't want them anymore can you put them down?" Before just walking out the door and leaving them there and again This was elderly cats." 

Well, I listened to her in shock. I just couldn't believe anyone could do such a thing to a pet they'd had so long, but then I remember that in this day and age anything was possible.

Now, Sam and I both agreed that it didn't really seem as if this woman really care what happened to the cat or who she gave it too.

My instinct is to dive in and save this cat, but the reality is I don't know if she is genuinely telling the truth about this new found villager willing to feed the cat until this new family moves in that are willing to take the cat on. I hope she is telling the truth and not as Sam fears, just going to abandon it. Especially given its age, yet I couldn't help but notice that her add is still up and she hasn't put anything on it to say that the whole thing is now sorted. 

I do really hope for Puma's sake she is not lying. That poor cat deserves a loving home. 

So have you ever come across anything like this? Perhaps you've heard some rediculus excuse for rejoining a pet. If so I'd love to hear about it in the comments.

Well this has been a fairly long post and it's time for me to head on out and get on with my day. 

I hope your Wednesday is a pleasant one and I'll be back for more rambling soon. 

Love and hugs all
Joss xx

P.s. Please keep Puma in your prayers. 

Monday, 26 October 2015

Temptation by Filofax

Happy Monday all. I'm in high spirits today for a number of reasons.

1. My child's been as good as gold. Which is always a joy. 

2. My hubby will be picking up my new axiety meds and even more importantly pain meds. Which with the sudden drops in temperature are desperately needed. 


3. I treated myself to a Filofax that I've been lovingly ogling from afar for a while now. 

In truth despite having many Filofaxes and currently using three different ones on a daily basis, I have yet to find a set up that I really like.

Normal Filofax inserts are decidedly lacking in space and sadly suffer quite badly from bleed through, if you use more than just the standard biro.

Decoration is also time consuming and at times tedious.

What I have found to work is to write in pencil prior to the event and then afterwards when I know I have nothing else to add, I break out the pen. Although this does work better for fitting things in, the space in the inserts is still decidedly lacking. 

So along with my new Filofax I ordered a dodo pad. These come predecorated but I am still not sure how well the layout will work for me. It feels as if I maybe limiting myself even more with regards to space, but I am hoping there will no longer be a need to decorate. 

This has it's pros and cons; however, because I have just found a form of decoration that I really like. Doodle decoration...

I only need one pen for this and I've found some really nice fine tip, black pens that don't bleed through. It also enables me to fit more info in. 

In the image above we are looking at Monday and Tuesday of this week. There not completely filled in given that Monday is not even over yet and Tuesday is yet to start but it gives you an idea of how things look. 

Using this method I can use icons when space is running low. Which really helps and I usually keep the notes section at the top of each week free encase I need an little extra space for one of the days.

This works well in both my personal and a5 Filofaxes, but I am also currently trying out using a whole plain page as my diary page in one of my personal Filofaxes. The downside to this is that I can't really plan ahead, but I figured out a solution to that too. Month on two pages. 

This option gives me a lot more space to work with, but I worry that overtime my planner could end up way too bulky. 

I determined though that I will find the method that works best for me and get back to just two planners, a personal and A5, by at least this time next year. 

Some bad news on the planner front, is needing to shelf my original Fluro A5.

I love that planner but omg, it gets dirty so easy, there are always marks on the outside cover where the rings press against it and I recently noticed a slight cracking on the outside spine which I think is caused by the fixings of the rings inside. 

I'm really disappointed as it was an expensive planner and am now debating whether to keep it or sell it, because if I don't feel comfortable using it, what's the point.

So for some of you this blog post has probably been a bit of a bore and I apologies if that was the case, but I'm hopeful if you love Filofaxes you'll hopefully be able to relate. 

Paper planners are growing in popularity and there are more and more people being sucked in by there charms. So if you love things cute and late terrible at staying organised. You might want to give, Filofaxes or planners a look. 

Remember if you have any questions, feel free to ask. 

Love and hugs all
Joss xx

Saturday, 24 October 2015

My disability does not define me.

As a child I'd walk for miles and miles. I'd leave early in the morning, long before most people were up and stay gone until the evening when dinner was served up.

I explored beaches, clifftops, fields and downs normally with a pack of dogs in tow, but what I never did was stop to imagine what would happen if this one great pleasure of mine became an impossible task.

And then it did.

When my son was being born in the early hours of the morning, on September 27th 2006, my mind was awash with all kinds of emotions, the greatest of which was fear.

Could I do this? Could I be a mum? Did I have what it took? What if I held him wrong? bathed him wrong or couldn't sooth him when he cried? What if I let him down? Or hurt him without meaning to?

No one wants to fail especially when it comes to our children, but the fears that we might are there nonetheless, from the minute they are conceived or dreamed into reality.

What I didn't know then was that I was about to make a choice that would change my life forever.

Fifty-three hours. That's how long it took for my baby boy to come into this world after my contractions started.

I spent a fairly large amount of that time, sucking on gas and air while questioning relentlessly the mystery of just who had switched the radio on despite, apparently being told repeatedly.

It was hard going and incredibly slow and as another night began to slip into another day,  my exhaustion continued to grow.

The midwives began to worry that if it went on much longer, I would be too tired to push when the time came and it was at this point that the big scary word I had been dreading started to be thrown around.


And so began one of the most frightening discussions of my life.

Now, I would like to take a minute to point out that every single person in that room, genuinely believed that in convincing me to have an epidural they were doing the absolutely best thing they could for both my son and me and it is impossible to say what might have happened, if they hadn't succeeded in persuading me.

To sit here and ponder what if's, is a pointless task that I know from experience, only leads to anger and regret that is pointless and does nothing, but make life that little bit harder.

The reality is that at the time an epidural really did seem to be the best approach and as scary as it was for me, given my massive phobia of needles, there is no denying the sweet, heavenly relief it brought me and the deliriously exquisite blessing of a few pleasantly pain free hours of sleep that I so badly needed to recharge my body, in readiness for the final big event.

From there on out, my labour was a breeze and fifty-three hours after the pain began my son was born, the most amazing, beautiful little baby I have ever seen.

We were in love, my husband and I. Completely smitten, yet still completely and utterly petrified.

Life went on as it does, with barely a thought for the epidural that had helped me to deliver our son into the world.

We learned to do all the things that I had been so nervous about, we enjoyed our son and we enjoyed our new status as a family of three in ignorant bliss until... something strange began to happen.

It started out as  a very small, yet decidedly sharp, almost electric shock-like sensation in my lower back, right at the point where the needle had gone in and it usually occurred when in the car, traveling along bumpy country lanes.

It wasn't pleasant, but it didn't last long and so I dismissed it.

Then I began to get pain in my lower back, again at the site of the epidural, whenever I was on my feet for a long time, but again I dismissed it until eventually dismissing and ignoring became a huge part of my daily life.

Years would pass with my mobility slowly decreasing more and more, while my anxiety levels steadily increased.

By the time my son was just a year away from starting school, I was barely leaving the house. You see it was easier to avoid doing anything that caused me too much pain than to deal with the reality of my situation.

So we signed my son up for playschool and suddenly I was tasked with getting my son to the bus stop every morning and collecting him every night.

Not being able to drive, this was a task that had to be achieved on foot. It shouldn't have been a big ask, it was five minutes up the road. Nothing in comparison to the miles and miles I covered as a child with my dogs. In fact, it didn't even come close to a mile, not even when the whole trip was combined and yet I couldn't do it, not without agonizing, back breaking, spend three days on the sofa to recover pain.

Now when my pain was only affecting me, it was one thing, but when it started to have an effect on my son and what I thought he needed, it suddenly became something I just couldn't ignore anymore and so began one of the most difficult emotional journeys of my life, because coming to terms with a disability, especially when there seems no hope of fixing it, is really tough.

Essentially, what you have to do is relearn everything you were ever taught. Want to walk to the bathroom. Fine, but you can't just walk there, not if it's a bad day, you have to plan it. That goes something like this...

Do I think I can make it there in one go?


Is there a chair in the hall that I can sit on?


Is there going to be a cat on the chair that I am going to need to remove in order to sit down?


Will my son have left something on the chair that I will need to remove?


Will my son have left toys all over the floor, in the hall that I will need to move?

Quite possibly.

How fast will I need to move between here and the chair in order to make it before my pain gets too much and my legs start to go weak?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Now this might seem silly, if you don't live with chronic pain, but when you do and it is like mine, these are all questions that you are constantly having to ask yourself and think about, because the tiniest thing can make a huge difference on whether or not you make it to that bathroom coping or you make it there in tears and there are times, when I haven't made it there at all, but instead slumped in the hallway chair silently begging for some magical relief and forcing my bladder to wait for just another half hour, until I feel able to move again.

I saw a quote today and I don't know who originally said it (if you do please feel free to let me know in the comments,) but it was this...

"If I woke up without pain, I would think I was dead."

And I read that quote, having just got back up out of bed, after failing to get to sleep, due to my own pain being too much tonight and I thought. "Yes, that's it. That's so true. That's exactly how I feel." 

Because, for me the pain is always there, it never goes.

Some days it is a little better than others, but it is still there none the less. Dictating what I can and cannot do.

It is my life. It is my reality, but and here is the important part. It does not define me.

I am not just a disabled person. I am not just that big girl in the wheelchair or the one with the mobility scooter.

I am a mother, a wife, a writer and so much more besides. My disability is just one part of me, it isn't all of me.

Realistically, nearly every single one of us will at some point in our lives be faced with an injury or illness that in one way or another will leave us unable to function in the way's that we are used too and if by some miracle or incredible luck we are able to avoid that and live to a ripe old age, then the chances are, that with that aging process those lucky few will still come to find themselves in their final years, in a position where they can no longer function in the way that they once could.

Did you know too, that statistics show that most families in the UK have at least one member who is classed as disabled?

So with that being the case, why are we still trying to define people simply by their disability. Surely, most of us know someone who is disabled and can see that they are so much more than just disabled.

It took me years to come to terms with my disability and there are still times when I struggle. By showing a little more understanding and respect to those who have a disability we can all make it that little bit easier for those who, due to illness or injury, have to live their life in a slightly different way, from what is considered the norm.

because the reality is, you never know when you might find yourself in our shoes.

If you've experienced a period of your life where you have had to learn to live in a slightly different way or like me you've had to learn to cope with a disability long term, then please feel free to leave a comment below, sharing your story because I for one, would love to hear what you have to say.

Love and hugs all
Joss xx

Friday, 23 October 2015

Life and stuff

Happy Friday everyone! So Kye and I have spent our first week trying out the whole child led learning thing and I have to say that so far things are going well.

He's been mainly focused on a project he is doing about dogs, which has been great fun. You may not know this about me, but I love animals, none more so than dogs. It's not a new thing either, because my very first word was Dog! So naturally, I am very happy that my son has also become dog crazy. 

Dogs make for a great topic too, because they are involved in so many aspects of human life. 

Not only are they great companions, but they have helped our disabled, searched for and helped to rescue our loved ones, fought to help protect us during war times and so much more besides. 

The coming week is half term for the kids here in the UK and athough Kye isn't at school anymore we still try to follow the same holidays, so that he can get out and play with his old school friends. 

although the weather isn't looking all that out door play worthy according to local forecasts which are predicting big storms all of next week. 

The week will bring some joy; however, in the form of my new Perscription. At last I am on the medications that helps me manage the pain the best, as well as some new anxiety pills which will hopefully not increase my appetite like the last ones. 

It's been a really painful few weeks and so some relief would be really great, because what I have at present isn't helping at all. 

On another plus note Harley De is now at what should be an okay weight. It's hard to be a hundred percent on what his weight should be as he is an odd mixture of breeds, but at least he is at a better weight than he was previously. Although I will miss his chunkiness, I know this is much better for him. It's so hard not to spoil them. 

Other news my son got his first phone. It's strictly monitored and lots of restrictions are set up to stop him accessing things he shouldn't, but he is very pleased. 

He needs to work on his self control a little though, when it comes to excessive selfies. Still he is happy and that's the main thing. 

I did have to smile though when he took the opertubity to correct my mothers spelling, take a look for yourself. 

Well that's all I have time for now, but I hope you have a lovely weekend. 

Love and hugs all
Joss xx 

Sunday, 18 October 2015

It's all gone a bit wrong!!

So we have been home educating for 6 months now and our Semi-structured approach is really not working.

Kye is getting so frustrated with the work and in order to make sure there is as little writing as possible for him, seeing as he is so averse to it, I am spending all my free time putting together worksheets for him, that has all the relevant information, along with fun activities that as much as possible does not involve excessive writing.

As a result of this I am barely getting any writing done myself, on my current WIP and despite the lack of writing Kye is still struggling to get absorbed by the work.

So what can I do? Well, I have decided to try a method that at first I was very unsure about. Free schooling I believe is the correct term, but I could be wrong. Essentially, you allow the child to lead the learning process, by looking at things he is interested in and trying to learn more about it.

I am really not sure how this will work, because when we have done this on occasion in the past, Kye had still ended up getting very bored, very quickly with whatever subject matter it was that he was interested in.

We'll be trying this out for a month to see how it goes, starting on Monday. I have to say I am really nervous about it and pretty sure that Kye is simply going to choose to play instead of learning something, but I guess time will tell.

One thing I did find recently that Kye really enjoyed was heading down to the park and playing the games on the GPS that was loaned to us.

Essentially you need a nice big field or open space and a gps that comes with games, there may even be some apps that might work in the same way, I'm not sure. So, you stand in the centre of the field and start the game. Using the GPS the child has to move around the field collecting flags in a maze, or dodging mosters while collecting flags, so on and so forth.

Kye had a blast with this and it kept him amused for ages, although I am not altogether sure what the educational value of this is, other than plenty of exercise and fresh air. Both of which I think are very important.

It also allowed me to relax for a little while and enjoy my book, without the constant interruptions that I tend to get, since starting to HE.

So here is a question for all you lovely people out there. Have you ever HE'd a child or do you still HE your child?

What approaches have you tried and found to be effective?

I look forward to hearing from you,
love and hugs Joss.