Alike, But Different.

On Wednesday night I woke around 1am to find myself being sick on and off through until 8am. It goes without saying that Thursday was not a great day for me. Thankfully Ted worked from home and my children offered me plastic cups of “medicine” and gave me hugs and kisses (that I should have fought off due to my potential contagiousness!), they also whined a lot and ran around arguing. Being ill as a grown-up with kids is the worst. The best time to be ill is when you are a kid and a parent looks after you.

Brighton Pride 2018

Anyway, I felt a lot better on Friday and we had a good day with the kids (some top secret modelling, but will share more about that at some point!), we took them to the park in the afternoon and met a lady with a 4 year old son who has special needs. We got chatting and we found ourselves in a position we’ve been in before – struggling to empathise with someone who thinks you can. She sees another “special needs family” and shares her story, but we feel, well, like we occupy a different space; Audrey isn’t “severely” special needs, but she’s not typical either. She sits in a space in between the two. I’m not denying Audrey has special needs, she definitely does and you only have to spend time with other 4-5 year olds to know that she is “different”. However we often find ourselves chatting to someone who is offloading about their child (with some form of special needs) constantly waking in the night, struggling to communicate, challenging behaviour, interacting with other children (hitting, tantrums)… for the most part I can only really apply some of these challenges to Rex!

This lady said she was surprised we had chosen to have another child after our first had special needs! Ha! How we laughed about that one on the way home. All children are hard work and of course, children with special needs present a different set of challenges, but Audrey made us feel very comfortable about doing it all again. Rex, however, well and truly scuppered plans for any more kids!

That evening I was very much looking forward to a decent sleep (as even Thursday night I was restless). As discussed with the lady in the park, Audrey is a good sleeper, but Rex sometimes shouts in his sleep.

Around 2am the dreaded sound of Audrey retching reached my ears – I was out of bed like a shot. There she was, sat upright, sick in her bed and bright and chatty “Sorry Mummy” she said as I wiped up the sick. And after vomiting in the bucket I held for her, “Phew! That’s a lot of sick!” She said, brushing her hair back.

She literally couldn’t get any better. After returning to bed and several more leaps back out to her aid with the bucket, I decided it would make more sense for Audrey and I to sleep in the spare bedroom together. So I scooped her up and laid next to her in the double bed, bucket at the ready.

As soon as I laid in the dark with her, I felt around to find her face and gently stroke it. She did exactly the same and stroked my face. She whispered that we were in “Uncle Graeme’s bed” (because he stayed in our spare room for a week during his chemo this year). She has a snotty nose at the moment, so within minutes she was asleep but snoring like, well, like her Uncle Graeme. I realised that I was really going to struggle to sleep, but do you know what? I strangely didn’t care. I could smell her sicky breath, but I could also feel her warm body right next to me and I felt so lucky to be her mummy. To be her protector.

In the morning I was awoken by many things (Audrey’s feet kicking me, the light coming through the half-closed blind, Rex thrashing about in his cot), but it was magical to wake to the sound of Rex saying “I want Audrey back!”.

Person-First Language is Important

I’m writing this to elaborate on a quick post I did on Instagram explaining/reiterating (I’m sure I’ve said it before) that Audrey is Audrey first; a child with Down’s syndrome second. So she is never a “Down’s kid” she isn’t a “Down’s syndrome girl” she is a child who happens to have Down’s syndrome. My little Instagram rant stemmed from the following…

I arrived for the open evening at Audrey’s school on a sunny summer’s evening, listening to Desert Island Discs, feeling excited about my little girl’s future in mainstream school.

I joined a queue to buy school uniform, chatted to some mums I had met before and gleaned information from these pros (with kids already attending the school) on what to expect.

I sat down clutching the welcome pack with Audrey’s name and class on the front and by chance sat behind the mother of one of Audrey’s nursery friends – (I could see the name and class on her welcome pack) and I could see they were in the same class. Everything was falling into place.

The teachers spoke at the front of the assembly hall and took us through the basics; uniform, PTA, after school club, forest school (so on trend). And then we all got up and filed into our specific classrooms to mingle and meet our child’s future teacher.

For some strange reason, I was quite focused on meeting Audrey’s teacher, but the thought of her 1:1 had barely crossed my mind… at least I thought it hadn’t, but I realise now I had already pictured her – in her 20s, enthusiastic, dedicated to children with special needs, passionate about it, a Makaton pro, a bit quirky.

So I guess it was a surprise to meet the lady who was older and not physically the picture I had in my head. And then, as surprisingly as she’d appeared; she made a bad impression. I asked about her experience and she told me how she had been working with a “Down’s boy” at the school and then she’d been at a special school a few miles away which had “loads of Down’s kids”. Outside I was smiling and nodding, inside I was crushed. How could this be someone passionate about people with Down’s syndrome? She doesn’t even know how to speak to me without offending me! She doesn’t understand person-first language. How can this person be the chosen 1:1 for Audrey? It made no sense.

I was awkward and made some comments about regretting not preparing with questions and I moved to the queue to meet the teacher.

The 1:1 popped up again, asking me about Makaton signing and why Audrey’s nursery had corrected her (she showed me the sign, I corrected her too). Such a minor “hiccup” you might think, but at this point I was getting anxious inside, imagining Audrey bonding with a woman who was seemingly getting everything wrong.

The thing is, people get person-first language wrong all the time and most of the time it doesn’t bother me that much. I don’t like to be pedantic (ok, I kind of do) but hey, I was made that way… in the same way that a cafe might list “sandwich’s” for sale and I will despair (but not run in asking them to correct the laminated menu), I despair a little over someone saying “a Down’s kid” but rarely take the time to correct them.

However. This was meeting a professional in a school. Someone who has clearly worked with children with Down’s syndrome for years and someone who has been employed to spend a lot of time with my daughter. So in this scenario, I should have said something, but because awkward conversations are not my thing, I ranted at other mums, had a rough night’s sleep, ranted a bit more to friends the next day and finally sent an email to the Head of Inclusion at the school to explain what happened.

What really gave me the confidence to write to the school, was the support I had from mum friends (those with typical children), who agreed this language was not on. They made me feel like I wasn’t over reacting.

This all happened last week and having had some time to calm myself and reflect, I had a meeting at the school this morning and I’m pleased to say I feel reassured that this was an unfortunate mistake and that they (the school) are more than versed in the correct language and will be ensuring all the teaching assistant are reminded of the correct terminology.

It was also helpful to hear that the 1:1 had come to the open evening off her own back because was excited to meet me, because she is excited to be Audrey’s teaching assistant. I can step back now and know that she does care, she will learn from this and that this bad experience can help the school, parents and teaching assistants learn something moving forward.

In fact I’m already discussing with another mum from the T21 crew (who was my immediate “What would she have done?” thought when I was faced with the dodgy language) a way of using this experience to create a “going to school pack” that can help schools and families learn from this dodgy experience.

Hopefully no one is reading this wondering what all the fuss is about, but if you are, then please just know that words are important. Audrey is so very precious to me and I want her to have the best start at school as she can possibly have and this begins and ends with her being treated as an individual.

Getting a school place

Our little Audrey starts school in September. She “should have” (under the usual system) started in September 2017, but, thanks to a change in the rules, we were able to defer her for a year so that she enters reception as the oldest, rather than one of the youngest.

We have chosen a school near us, which is mainstream (for typical children) and happens to be a church school. Children with an Education, Health and Care Plan (that’s our Audrey) are allocated a place first. They the go through various other criteria (living in the catchment, worshipping at the church, having a sibling at the school etc).

Despite Audrey being at the top of the list as it were, I was a little nervous (and I guess confused) by the system.

I waited like everyone else for my email confirmation that Audrey had her place at our chosen school, (despite the fact I had already been in a meeting with a member of staff from our chosen school, discussing Audrey’s future there as if it were a given). But on school admissions email day… Nothing came. Instead, on the day people were notified what school their child was allocated, I was copied in on an email from the local authority to the Head of Inclusion at the school, basically saying “please let us know if you cannot meet Audrey’s needs”.

This did not make me feel secure. Especially when the response was that they would “make a decision after visiting her at nursery”. So we had gone from top of the list to a decision being made after the announcement day for everyone else!

I am pleased to say that a week later than everyone else, I received an email that confirmed they will be accepting Audrey at their school in September. Phew.

I’m also pleased to say that when I dropped off the required paperwork for Audrey’s application, the lady on the school reception said they had no other Audreys. And I just know that everyone will know her at this school. That feeling of pride that I regularly get from seeing her chat away to new people – I shall experience that en masse as she settles into the school routine.

I also went to a “transitioning to school” coffee morning last month, for parents of children with special needs. It was another eye-opening discussion where I realise that many children have more complex needs than Audrey, although I also felt very aware that she does have special needs. She will love school, but will find some of it challenging. However, (as cheesy as this is), the headline motto from this meeting was that there is not need for your child to be “school ready”, rather that the “school needs to be ready for your child”.

And despite Audrey not currently being potty trained (something I had hoped/expected us to have nailed before school), I feel confident that she is ready and that the school is ready for her. Putting aside the unbelievable gaping hole she will leave behind in my weekday life, I’m excited for this new chapter in her life.

Mental Health and Mumming

Once upon a time I was a happy-go-lucky human who couldn’t get their head around how people who felt depressed couldn’t just think about happy stuff and snap out of it. Yep I was that naive.

This was before kids. Before 3 members of my close family died of cancer. Before I realised that sometimes it can all just become too much.

After my mum died last year I would find myself sat in the mornings feeling unable to motivate myself to get dressed and do stuff with the kids. I would stare into space. I would feel despair. I would feel “what’s the point?” And I’d feel scared by those feelings.

The first time I ever had these kind of depressing thoughts were actually after having Rex. The sleep deprivation and his general unhappiness as a baby made me feel like we had ruined our happy family by introducing this child. But I was functioning, showering, seeing friends… and I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want Rex to die. I just wanted it all to be fixed.

And so according to the test “they” (doctors, health visitors) get you to take; I didn’t have post natal depression. Clearly I was depressed, but not badly enough for any intervention.

This actually leads me to another example of why I get so frustrated by those who talk about the “suffering” of a sibling if you choose to continue with a pregnancy after a Down’s Syndrome diagnosis – that you are willingly choosing to bring a child into the world that will require more attention and cause your other “typical” children to be neglected in some way. We had a lovely child with Down’s Syndrome, she had all the love and attention she could want. We gave her a typical sibling and yikes, he was needy! Audrey’s needs were on the back-burner. She watched CBeebies a lot. And even though we’ve come through dealing with a very needy baby, Rex is still very much the one who causes upset. He’s the one that needs more attention in general.

At bedtimes there have been many times when magical cuddles with Audrey have happened to a soundtrack of Rex having a tantrum over socks or some other nonsense. He has much more of a temper than his sister, he likes to push boundaries and in fact, he has started pushing and hitting and Audrey does so back. She has learnt a lot of bad habits from him – she never would have climbed on the coffee table pre-Rex and she never would have hit me. She had never attacked the toilet tissue before Rex showed her how it’s done! Having a child with special needs can be tough, but having kids is just tough anyway.

They are now both perfect siblings – holding hands and plotting together one minute, crying and fighting over a piece of cardboard the next. Lovely, exhausting little… angels.

And so, with the level of adulthood I have now reached (bills to pay, important people to mourn, feral children to discipline), I find myself in therapy. I am attending counselling sessions, which is actually great. I find it particularly strange that it started about grief and soon became “good god my kids are driving me insane” and is now “please help me figure out how to be confident and do something with my life”. Well, at least we are progressing!

What you learn in therapy (or rather what I’m learning), is that “me time” is crucial to mental health. Doing what you love or doing something that makes you happy, regularly, will keep you sane.

I am fully aware that if I am lacking in “me time” it’s usually my fault. I still find it difficult to not think of the kids as entirely my responsibility. So whenever I leave them with someone (even my husband!) I feel guilty or like a clock is ticking and I need to get back to my job as mum. Crazy but true!

To briefly summarise the journey of a mother: pregnancy gives you a passenger/parasite to deal with, dramatic body changes and hormones. The baby then remains a parasite of sorts and your body is still different and very much not yours. Once they finally become a walking, talking more separate human, they create a lot of stress and mess and you perhaps still don’t feel like you can be yourself. I put on a new dress last week and by the afternoon Audrey had jumped on me and knocked my (thankfully not hot) tea all over me. I regularly find play doh on my jeans. This morning I was applying eyeliner in the bathroom whilst two children attacked my legs. I very often wee whilst being harassed by them both; “Mummy! Mummy? Do you need tissue? Are you finished? Wash your hands! Dry your hands! Mummy!”. It can feel all-encompassing and unescapable at times. How can I find the time to be me and not “Mummy”?

Thankfully, we have good settlers and our evenings are our own. I need to prioritise more time for things that keep me sane and also remember that although my day is peppered with stress and lunacy, it’s also full to the brim with beauty and love. I mean; look at them:

Stuff! And Things!

Hello! Yet again real life and raising children somewhat takes over from blogging. So here’s another quick update on anything and everything I can think of.

They both had haircuts and behaved so well:

The other week Audrey was feeling poorly with a high temperature, laying on the sofa under a leopard print blanket. I came down having got dressed and she said “Mummy, you’re the same as the blanket!” I was initially confused, I explained I was wearing a cardigan, not a blanket… when I realised my t shirt was leopard print! How proud I am of Audrey and these simple moments.

The winter has already meant a steady stream of germs, but there is no escaping it when they both go to nursery and we spend our lives at play groups and music groups with dirty toys.

Audrey’s current favourite song is ‘Hocus Pocus’ by Focus. It’s worth noting as we’ve been through various favourites;

‘Black Magic’ by Little Mix

‘Ice Ice Baby’ by Vanilla Ice

‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber

‘We Built this City’ by Starship

They both currently respond well to Hot Chip.

We watch ‘Trolls’ at least three times a week, but just a month ago it was ‘Moana’ a go go, so who knows what they’ll be onto next?

Rex is currently obsessed by cars, lorries and fire engines. Audrey is very keen on books and dolls. They both love handbags.

I am starting to appreciate them both more and more. Just looking and listening and seeing how wonderful they are. This is when they are not fighting over a toy or throwing a tantrum over something incredibly minor.

They both love Christmas (the build up) so far and I’m excited to enjoy it with them.

Audrey was recently a poster girl for a local charity (Amaze), which we were thrilled to see.

Will try not to leave it too long before my next blog post, we have a lot going on (Down’s Syndrome Awareness wise and in general).

Rex’s words and general hello

I started writing this post in May (!) and listed Rex’s words;

Mama

Dada

Up

Tumble

Milk

Yeah

No

Down

Ball

Dog

Bird

Audrey (Audrew)

Dum Dum

Teeth

Duggee

Hat

At least half of which were combined with Makaton signs. Yes he’s basically a genius.

Since then he has mastered Mummy and Daddy and basically attempts to repeat any word you throw at him. He’s started singing Baa Baa Black Sheep a lot as well as the circle time song that Audrey used to plague us with a year ago (she still sings it now and again, but wow was that on repeat for a while). It’s November now and he has lots of sentences and is a very chatty young man.

This is a bragging post because I’m proud of him, but also because I want it to be known that it doesn’t really matter. Most of Rex’s milestones have been annoying to be honest, crawling, standing, walking, climbing… it’s just more to worry about. Talking you’d think was all good, however it does give him a chance to say “no” and to ask for things he can’t have. It’s a challenge to explain things to a 16 (now 20) month old.

Anyway, he’s doing well and we’re really pleased about that, but we were and still are, really pleased with how Audrey is progressing.

In fact, I remember my time alone with Audrey as an 18/20 month old as not very different. No walking of course, but I feel like we had our little chats and she made choices, yet I know she wasn’t at the Level Rex is now at. I guess I’m just saying that you can be content with your child and their development even when it’s delayed/tough going.

Life is still very challenging with two small humans, they test me daily, but it’s also wonderful. Their little voices! The chats they have with each other! The cuddles! The fights! The tantrums! Losing my mind! All life is here.

If I Could Go Back…

It’s Down Syndrome Awareness Month (predominantly in the US, but happy to embrace it as I always do), so what better time to direct you to a short film I had the pleasure of contributing to.

I have mentioned The Specials before (an online series that also aired on OWN in the US), they have been a fabulous, fun part of our journey with Down’s Syndrome.

I used to work for a company that sold documentaries internationally and we represented The Specials before I was pregnant with Audrey.

It was quite a moment for me, when, back at work visiting colleagues with my small baby, I bumped into Katy (producer of The Specials) and for the first time, I felt excited to tell someone that my baby had Down’s Syndrome! I knew that she would get it.

Anyway, the company I worked for went into liquidation, time passed, but I thankfully remained in touch with Katy because she’s just one of those lovely-type-people you stay in touch with.

She asked if we (my family and I) might be interested in being filmed for some content for The Specials website. They were interested in representing a different part of the Down’s Syndrome journey – the early part with a little one like Audrey.

Of course I said yes, I am always thrilled at the prospect of showing off Audrey and reaching people with our story – showing what life is like.

Katy started filming us the summer Audrey turned 2 and continued into the winter when I was heavily pregnant with Rex.

I’m pleased to be able to share with you a short film that came from some of that filming: a project called “If I Could Go Back…” that has given a voice to a variety of parents of children with Down’s Syndrome, explaining what those early days are like and what we’d like to say to ourselves if we could go back…

Click here to view on YouTube

It’s a perfect film to share during Down’s Syndrome Awareness Month and one that I hope will be useful to new mothers, fathers, grandparents… basically anyone who fears what it might be like to have a child with Down’s Syndrome in their life. What we thought “then” and what we know “now” = just wow. I could literally talk all day about what I thought it would be like to have a child with Down’s Syndrome and what it is actually like.

Audrey makes me so happy, so proud and she continues to surprise me every day with what she is learning and has achieved. So different to the fear in my heart that moment I first looked at her face.

More links to come no doubt, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one, it’s certainly emotive!

Late for school

This week you will no doubt see pictures of beaming children in their school uniforms for the first time all over your social media feeds. Unless you don't know anyone with school age children. Or you're not on social media.

But there will be no picture of Audrey in her uniform.

Just six weeks dictated Audrey would be one of the youngest in her school year, instead of one of the oldest. So when school selection time came around (and the formulation of an Educational Health and Care Plan), we weighed up our options. The new system for summer born babies and children with special needs allows you to apply for a deferral; so that your child is the oldest in Reception and progresses through school in that class. Since Audrey is both a summer baby and a child with special needs, we knew we had a great chance of getting a deferral to start Audrey in September 2018.

We made a list of pros and cons and to be honest the only pro to Audrey going to school this year was a saving in childcare costs! More important than that was the chance for Audrey to "catch up" a little with her typical peers (since we have chosen mainstream schooling). She isn't potty trained, she hasn't really been walking unaided for a year yet and she still needs assistance in many areas… She's also very small and quite delicate, the thought of her in a class of typical 4-5 year olds is pretty scary!

I should consider ourselves lucky in that we know she can progress and close a gap (even if only a little), but for some children with special needs, a year might not make a difference to their ability to settle into mainstream school. Mainstream might not even be an option. So yes, we are lucky, but here we are, watching her NCT and nursery friends go off to school and I do feel emotional about it. It's a huge step, a big change and we've dictated that it's not her time. We've changed the path. I think I'm struggling a little with the fact that this is a different path from the one I had expected "our child" to take, like mourning the loss of an expected reality.

The thing is, I am excited about that first school uniform picture of Audrey, I am excited about her starting school, but I also know that starting now is not right for her, she isn't ready.

So another year of nursery. Another year of music classes. Another year of swinging in the park. This reality is not a loss for me I guess, but a gain…

Good luck to all the September 2017 school starters!

Special needs 

Gemma Mount Photography

Most of the time I'm a mum. But sometimes I'm the mum of a special needs child. It's actually quite rare that I'm fully aware that Audrey has special needs. It doesn't impact our day to day life as much as you might think.

I recognise that she needs more help than her typical peers when it comes to various things (eating, navigating obstacles, potty training…), but I guess I'm just used to her progressing slowly and she just seems a bit younger. I don't really think of her as "special needs" child. 

Most of the time I want people to look at her. She's beautiful, funny and friendly, so I like to show her off. But every now and then…

Audrey and I went to a mum event last month. Run by MumstheWordOnline, it was a talk and book signing with Clemmie Hooper, the midwife, mother and blogger who is "instafamous".  I set off with Audrey in the sling, both giggly and excited by our alone time. Stopping to look at pretty flowers before we caught our bus to town. It's rare I can travel on a bus and sit Audrey next to me – sat up high so we can talk about what we can see out of the window. These are the parenting moments you drink in. Those perfect moments of excitement and happiness over the simplest things.

We met our friends Louise and Harry and walked to the hotel venue. Audrey was snuggled into me and I could tell she was a bit sleepy. 

We collected our name badges and then entered the room. It was then that I realised bringing Audrey was a mistake (bringing Rex would have also been a mistake but for slightly different reasons, but I digress!). The mum chat volume was high. The room was crowded and chaotic, it was warm and everyone was moving around in limited space to chat and get coffee. Audrey was instantly asking to go home. 

I thought that once we sat down to listen to Clemmie speak, Audrey might be content on my lap, but it soon became clear that wouldn't work – they had a PA system and Audrey covered her ears and said it was too loud. She started to cry. More than anything at that point, I felt so terrible having put her in this position. We moved to the play area but she didn't want to play with any toys, she just wanted to go home.

At the very back there was a room for buggies. This was furthest away from the noise, Audrey was much calmer in this room, but basically wanted to leave via the fire exit because she could see the street. After a bit of back and forth, I realised it would be easily solved if we left. A brief freak-out (on her part, obv!) as we left through the main noisy room and then we were in the hotel lobby; she was immediately fine. We popped into the large toilet right there and Audrey said "Phew!" And was back to her usual happy self. We left and she was all waves and smiles to the hotel reception staff.

We went to the library, then onto a cafe for lunch, Louise and Harry joined us, calm was restored. Lou tried to make me feel better by informing me Harry also asked to leave and handed her her handbag(!), but the fact remains he wasn't emotional, he wasn't stressed, just bored.

However it's moments when she's upset that I feel like a special needs parent. I feel eyes on me, I worry about pity, I think people see our life as hard. I feel like they see Audrey as difficult, as a burden and I hate that.

I accept that she is different. Our life will be different. But I hate the thought of anyone seeing a fleeting moment of stress as "the way things are".

These past few weeks have been tough. Not because Audrey has Down's Syndrome but because both my children have hit hideous phases of tantrums and tears and er, "wilfulness"! Two under 3 has been tough and despite the fact that Audrey is now 4, it's still very tough. The fact is, most of the time Rex is the main cause of stress, but he is typical and no one would bat an eyelid to his tantrums. Maybe no one bats an eyelid to Audrey's, but that's not how it feels when you are a special needs parent.

Calm restored in a fancy toilet.

Nursery times 2

Today I went back to work after 18 months of maternity leave (well, the cold, hard fact is, I was made redundant whilst on maternity leave, but let’s ignore that). 

As I walked home (that’s right, no dodgy commute, just a meander through leafy Hove), I felt so incredibly emotional. I’m a cry baby anyway (I’m sure I’ve mentioned my tearful John Lewis advert moments/sniffles at people dying on Neighbours/sobbing to La La Land?), but this felt like such a mix of feelings. Rex spent an entire day cared for by nursery staff! – You see he’s only spent time with friends and family before, this was a big deal. 

Audrey is a nursery pro – she started at 10 months and save a few tears at pick up (when she realised we left her!), she’s always been an easy-going sort; she took to it like a rubber ducky to kids’ bath time and we never looked back.

Rex has been a bit more clingy in general and at 16 months he’s at a trickier age than she was, but, nursery settling sessions went well. So I wasn’t crazy-nervous about him starting and to be honest second time around you’re much more willing for your kids to fly or fall. But when lunchtime arrived I realised I was keen to check in and hear from nursery that he was having a good time (which he was).

Once the day came to an end I was excited to get home to see my family. It was a good feeling because it is so rare that I get to miss Rex. Audrey has been going to nursery twice a week and on those days I get very excited for her to come home… clearly every day I cannot wait for my husband to get home, but for Rex… well we just don’t get very long breaks from one another to miss each other. What a novelty. I missed him. Amazing.

In many ways I’m one of those mums that complains about how I’m always with my kids and that I have no time for me, but then doesn’t let others look after them. I fear leaving them, it’s a control thing and I’m working on it. Walking down the street alone on a mild summer evening was pretty awesome. I started daydreaming about dates with Ted, maybe going for a run; just time without kids that I haven’t “allowed” myself before.

Getting home (5 minutes before my crew), I really got the “sight for sore eyes” phrase. Wow. My beautiful children arrived home with their Daddy, full of smiles and lots of shouting “Mummy!!”, it was wonderful. Rex was very clingy, but in such a lovely way and I got lots of cuddles and kisses.

For anyone wondering if working (and this is only part time to be clear) after having children is a good idea… thinking; will you feel guilty? Will it be difficult to do something other than wipe bums and faces? Will my children suffer? Well, in my experience, working or just having a regular activity away from your children is a great idea (insert thumbs up emoji here). I just feel like I’ve had a boost and that both my children seemed lovelier because I didn’t spend the day with them! Ha. 

Check them out in pics below – Rexy got for a balloon on his first day and he loves balloons!