Author: toughmotheruk

The dictionary says Spanish for opportunity or chance.

It was also shamelessly appropriated by my husband to brand a day out in Madrid after we’d been stuck due to the UK air traffic issues.

What was going to be a two hour stop-over turned into an exercise in patience as no one really knew what was going on. Bags had to be reclaimed (or at least those that could be found) and queues queued in while determining which queue was the right one to obtain some information, while simultaneously checking websites and phone lines.

We waited with bated breathe when the latter changed from not connecting at all to a recorded message saying they were experiencing high call volumes… and to try back later!

It was also one of those moments when you appreciate how much the kids had grown up as we all managed to keep it together with minimal moaning. Obviously, aided by Wi-Fi, enabling fairly unlimited access to devices (with the only potential panic while a charging point was found), and a promise of McDonalds.

The next morning, my husband tried to convince the kids that having longer in Madrid was a great opportunity to explore and hang out with him. It was a hard sell until they realised that this included some shopping and the Lego store… and me taking one for the team and rejoining the queue after being informed by the hotel that there was no room at the inn unless we were picking up the tab directly… and the transfer to the airport was leaving in 2 minutes!

However, there was no complaining when the “oportunidad” was cut short as a flight was found departing in a few hours. It was a wee bit tense as they diverted to the hotel, grabbed the bags, and made it to the airport… to discover that they hadn’t had lunch.

Luckily, an emergency Kit Kat during check-in and a refuelling stop after security meant we all made it.

I haven’t seen as much excitement to land into a rainy, grey, cold England day… ever!

Tomorrow my daughter finishes primary school. 

That feels weird.

As they say, it doesn’t seem that long ago that her brother was wiping her nose on her first day of school.

Now of course, they would deny that they actually like each other, cos that’s not very cool.

I think that means I am going to have to schedule a different time to talk to her as we won’t have the walk to school any more!

It’s been a wee bit of a rollercoaster – now it’s full steam ahead to the next stage.

Just have to survive the last day!

We had a car journey recently where the iPads had been left at home for once. At one point, my daughter observed that we (I think she meant the parents) were actually quite funny. It’s obviously only taken 10 years to come to that realisation…

This was after a very illuminating conversation about Minecraft. For my mum and dad, that’s a computer game that’s a bit like digital Lego.

My son had just signed up to something that allowed his friends to join him virtually in his world. It then turns out that he was having to enforce the ‘rules’ of the world. When asked how you do that, he explained the only option is to kill the rule breaker.

My husband then observed that it sounded very similar to a dictator, who takes harsh steps to enforce their authority, and that he’d have to be thoughtful about not hurting people’s feelings. 

At that point, our daughter piped up to say otherwise he’d be a dick-tater!

A quick google search confirmed that is in fact not the origin of the word, just a coincidence…?

From there we got into how the (Minecraft) world works. 

Apparently, you need villagers to do stuff for you. 

To get villagers you have to cure zombies (by throwing them an apple), building a bedroom, putting two in there and throwing them some bread (recurring theme here?), so they then create love particles… which turn into children.

Exactly how my son and daughter were born of course, so no need for further explanations there! 

Queue 🤮 from the kids!

My son (12) recently arranged a meet up with his ‘bus buddies’. It started off with ‘mum, do you think it would be alright if…’

While that lead in isn’t itself unusual, this was the first time there was no parental involvement in logistics at all.

This meant details were very vague.

Oh, we’re meeting at the shop around 4.45 on Sunday.

What time does it close?

I’ll look that up…

This wasn’t helped on the day by us deciding to visit family and his phone having a flat battery. But rule number 2 is don’t panic and he managed to deal with both curveballs.

Questions about when he’d be back revealed the lack of logistical (any?) awareness, as it was apparently going to be 30 minutes after he’d planned to meet – a very quick ice cream and march home??! We generously suggested he could have a bit longer…

He returned triumphant, navigating a broken card machine, and having met some family friends on the way home (so we got their view too).

The ice cream was excellent – and plastered all over his chin.

While I have long suspected he has tastebuds located there, I’m not sure it advanced his street cred!

Someone wants me.

That was the response when my daughter received an offer letter from one of the secondary schools she’d applied to.

Her relief, and ours, was palpable after a bumpy road. She’d decided she wanted to apply after visiting some schools with her brother the year before. That meant tutoring and lots of homework. And quite a few tears as she compared herself to others and didn’t understand why she wasn’t getting it.

But each time she picked herself up, dusted herself off, and went again.

That, more than anything, led to an assessment which confirmed she had dyslexia. And with that, a piece of the puzzle seemed to fall into place.

This experience culminated in three exams (three weekend days!) in a row in December and the realisation, as a parent watching your child walk through the (actual and metaphorical) door, that there’s nothing you can do to help them in that moment.

And the relief, when she came out other side with a smile. 

Unfortunately, the first school came back pretty quickly to say she hadn’t made it to the next round. Fortunately, they had already been judged due to the orange Kit Kat offered during the break. A poor showing compared to the sausage rolls at the other two (phew). 

The next stage for the remaining schools was an interview (both us and her) and an activity afternoon (just her). Definitely more complicated than my experience (admittedly some time ago) in rural New Zealand, where it was either the Catholic school or the other one, and no choice at all as I followed in my brothers’ footsteps to the Catholic one.

While it was the same for her brother, it was also very different. And running the gauntlet two years in a row was harder than I expected.

Now though the positive vibes have moved from “don’t worry, be happy” to “hard work pays off”.

Both receiving the same eye roll response from the 10 year old!

Christmas this year was a revelation. 

We had the English extended family to stay. It definitely emphasised how much life has gone back to ‘normal’ and Covid restrictions seem a welcome distant memory…

The holiday season started with our son expressing some doubt about Santa Claus. As he is 12, this wasn’t unexpected, although he rapidly back pedalled when I mentioned that Santa doesn’t come to unbelievers. 

There were also stern words about making sure the cousins (7 and 5) got no whiff of the sceptism. The newly hatched one (a few weeks old at this stage) probably has a few years until we need to worry about that!

The kids definitely embraced their elder status and did a great job of entertaining the wee ones. Very helpful when our hob cracked up under the pressure and stopped working on Christmas Eve eve. Luckily there’s not much you can’t do on a barbecue (including Christmas gravy) and, most importantly, the last minute borrowing of a kettle ensured tea supply was not interrupted.

The competitive spirit was also in full force, with the traditional After Eight game requiring a World Cup level tournament (won by getting a square peppermint chocolate from your forehead to your mouth the fastest using only the muscles on your face and gravity for those unfamiliar with the game!).

We could have done with some independent referees, as one son needed reminding the chocolate needs to start above the eye brows and there seemed to be a lot of rematches due to ‘photo’ finishes…

Unsurprisingly, the board games at New Year’s were similarly competitive, and somehow the evening didn’t wrap up until after 1am. Most importantly, no one was in a hurry to get up the next morning, which was definitely a change from years past, when the little blighters could be guaranteed to be up and at ‘em at 6am sharp!

Perhaps there’s some benefits to this tweenagery stage after all!

While you might be warming up for the silly season, we’ve just got to the end of another birthday season. Someone really should explain the benefit of ensuring kids’ birthdays are evenly distributed across the year prior to pregnancy…

Anyway, this year was quite a rollercoaster, starting in New Zealand, where it was more of a hydro slide. We’ve reached an excellent turning point where all cousins could tackle the slides without an adult! It was also a lesson in singlemindedness, as the youngest determinedly pushed the inflatable ring, three times his size, up three flights of stairs. At least twenty times!

Then there was the “sleepover of peace and prosperity”, rebranded from the “sleepover of doom and destruction”, which had meant that it had been put off for a year.

Although, with twelve boys, peace isn’t quite the right word… the tsunami wave of sound hitting us at 6.30am as they helped themselves to brekkie definitely made it clear they were awake!

It was interesting that they chose to watch Turning Red, a film about a young girl starting off adolescence – in amongst the nerf gun battles of course!

This was a contrast to the three girls who stayed for my daughter’s birthday, who were much quieter… except perhaps for the late night dance challenge that took them away from Jurassic World Dominion…

Followed by my husband’s birthday barbecue that my daughter “organised”. This mostly involved inviting people, specifying the menu, and flicking her fingers to make it happen… luckily it all came together and no eyebrows were burned in the barbecuing!

Phew, now to sort Christmas!

Still in Stewart Island, one activity on the plan was kiwi spotting. Apparently kids aren’t recommended, but we managed to find a tour to take us all. After the kids were given warnings of dire consequences if they didn’t stay quiet…

Five minutes in, our friendly tour guide made the tactical error of encouraging questions, so it was game on!

He was in top form though and the record shows only one question stumped him. Anyone know if any other birds, other than kiwis, have bone marrow?

We did manage to spot a kiwi within moments of leaving the car. Larger than you’d think and very focused on it’s evening dinner. But in the interests of adventure we continued on to explore some of the surrounding area, only to find that other than a few rats, there was not a lot stirring.

The next night, the kids and I decided to go for a wander, just in case. While we heard some calling and likely rustling, and they scared themselves silly by the various night sounds (there were not a lot of street lights), no kiwis were spotted. The compulsory hot chocolate at the end of the night was spot on though.

My son has decided a night scope is essential for our next trip…

Over the summer we managed our first trip out to NZ post-Covid. Three years is quite a long time in kid years, and, as well as hanging out with family, we also managed to do some sightseeing.

This included a trip to Stewart Island, which is almost five times bigger than the Isle of Wight, but with 400 people (vs 141,000 in case you were wondering), 28km of roads and next stop Antarctica

On our first day, we went for a walk “to the beach”. I hadn’t been specific about which beach though, and we ended up on a bit of an adventure.

Three and a half hours later, I think we might be turning the corner with the kids.

They managed the trek very capably, with minimal moaning, although there was quite a lively debate about who would be sacrificed first to assuage the hunger pangs…

Up til then, our daughter has been more of a reluctant walker, some might say (if they’re looking for a charitable description).

The walk was brilliant.

However, we decided not to push our luck two days in a row and so hired some e-bikes for a tour around the island.

We saw brilliant, and raised it to epic!

Both kids discovered ‘turbo’ pretty early on, and could be seen effortlessly hooning down and (most importantly) up dale.

The only problem is that it could be the only way to cycle…