Sad Goodbyes

Well it's finally happened. Bee has left nursery.

Bee started at Sandy Lane two years ago, still a baby and overwhelmed by everything about such a new environment. It took her a long time to settle and not cry at every drop-off. Yet despite the inauspicious beginning, she thrived there. The facilities and staff were incredible, as proved by there repeated 'outstanding' OFSTED reports. By the time her second year rolled around I couldn't drag her away. We've had so many wonderful times there, from farm trips to Sandy Lane's very own Forest School...

 

Sadly Foz had to work on Bee's last morning so my Mum and I collected her at the end of the nursery session. We'd prepared handmade gifts for all 11 of her teachers and it was an emotional goodbye with more than a few tears from all of us. Nursery gave us a lovely folder with lots of pictures and text about all the things Bee had done over the last two years, it's very special as parents don't get to see what their children get up to otherwise.

After leaving nursery my Mum and I took Bee to McDonalds for her favourite treat of chips! She's so spoilt!

I can't speak highly enough about Bee's nursery. The difference her from the baby she was to the little girl she is now is in large part down to their wonderful care and support for us a family.

Thank you Sandy Lane, we are eternally grateful. You have done a incredible job preparing my girl for the next stage in her life. We'll miss you and Bee misses you. Every time we drive past she says "mine" and signs 'nursery'.

School Visits

Since receiving confirmation that Bee will attend Bewsey Lodge Primary School in September she's been invited for three hour-long sessions to help her get to know her new classroom and teachers. I'd been a little worried about how Bee would cope without us in her new class but I needn't have been. 

Each time she's been excited on arrival and recognised her new teacher, Mrs J. She's left us at reception without a backwards glance and despite us waiting around for the full hour each time, not once has she needed us before her session had finished.

I'm thrilled that she likes her new teachers so much and seems very comfortable both with them and in the new classroom. My only concern is that currently an hour session is like a fun playtime for her. When September rolls around she'll be going from 9am-3pm. A huge leap.

 On the way home after the first of her 3 sessions (one a week) we visited the local park as the weather was beautiful.

Holiday Book

We've booked our first family holiday for September of this year and I'm so very excited about it! It's Bee's gift for her 5th birthday and we're off to Peppa Pig World in Hampshire! It's in the New Forest, right down near the south coast and we're staying at Hoburne Bashley Holiday Park. 

We're only planning one day at Peppa Pig World (unless Bee really loves it) and have 4 other days to fill with fun and adventure. We're thinking maybe a car ferry over to the Isle of Wight or a visit to Beaulieu Motor Museum in honour of Bee's obsession with buses and trains, exploring the New Forest, maybe an animal park or farm, the seaside... there's going to be lots to do.

Since booking I've been worrying about how Bee would cope with the holiday. How do you explain to a 4-year-old with learning difficulties that you're staying away from home for a few days in a big box on legs? Or that for a few days she'll have to cope with a complete change to her normal routines? Bee always copes best with change when she's had some preparation so I decided to tell her about the holiday early. Of course the unforeseen problem with this has been balancing preparing Bee with her complete lack of understanding about things happening in the future. She's very excited about Peppa Pig World and asks me most mornings if we're going. Thankfully when I say "not today" the worst I get is a few whys? before she moves on!

To help with the preparation I thought some pictures would help so I emailed Hoburne Bashley and asked for a brochure that we could sit and look through together. Unfortunately when it arrived there were not many 'useable' pictures, just lots of information. I cut out the few I could use and got searching on Google images for generic pictures I could use to complement the few I had.

There was a lot of information I wanted to include about our holiday so there were two pages about where we would be staying, a page for Peppa Pig World, a couple of pages for activities we might do and a page for out trip on the way home.

Bee has loved sitting and sharing the book and I've found it a really helpful tool for talking about our holiday together.

Magic and Beyond

The week of my 30th birthday at the end of May was certainly an interesting one. It started with a family party, there was a day in deepest Wales and the Friday brought our trip to Magic Weekend. For those unfamiliar, Magic Weekend happens once a season in the Rugby League calendar and all the games from one weekend are playing in the same stadium, one after the other. That's four games on Saturday and four on Sunday. For such huge Rugby League fans as Foz and I are we always try to go every year, especially when, as this year, it's in Manchester, barely half an hour's journey from home.

The Etihad Stadium

The Etihad, a football stadium that's home to Manchester City, is a beautiful and spacious venue and this was our second time attending there. Warrington Wolves were scheduled to be the last game on Saturday but we had weekend tickets anyway and were planning to watch all 8 games over the two days.

I was especially excited for our game as I'd won a competition run by Foxy Bingo (a sponsor of Super League) a few weeks earlier and my prize was to race in a zorb on the pitch at half time. Brilliant!

We spent the first three games watching with our friends, chanting, drinking and enjoying the beautiful weather. But as Warrington's game against St. Helens approached I started getting nervous. I knew it wouldn't be long before I would be facing off against a Saints fan in front of thousands of people!

Half time arrived all too soon and I found myself zipped inside the zorb, after being given some simple instructions on how the race would work. My Saints opponent and I were led on to the pitch once the players had left the field and I scanned the crowd looking for the mass of Warrington fans in the corner of the stadium. I knew Foz, my dad and brother would be there cheering me on. Sound was strangely muffled in the zorb, I could hear my own voice echoing around the space around me but sounds from the outside, even the loud music and tannoy announcements were hard to make out. 

We lined up on the try line and I strained my ears trying to hear the announcer (incidentally a famous ex-Rugby League player called Robbie Paul) doing our introductions and explaining the race to the crowd. Thankfully a staff member did a visual countdown in front of us and we could barely hear Robbie getting us ready to go. But soon enough it was time.  I adopted my starting position. I was determined to win. Determined. St. Helens are old rivals of Warrington and I spent many years of my childhood watching them beat us every single time we played each other. I was absolutely not going to lose to a Saints fan, no matter how nice he was.

The race was over very quickly, about 20 seconds from "go" to crossing the line. Running in a zorb is difficult, especially when you're trying to go at speed. You're essentially falling forward all the time so you can push it faster but the ball holds you up. Like a hamster ball. Unfortunately my efforts to win finally outweighed my zorb-running ability and I pitched forwards as I crossed the line, hitting the ground hard with my left shoulder. The split second of impact was blinding agony and I felt it again as the speed of my fall took me into a tumble which ended with me lay on my back, looking at the sky. The pain lessened and I lay there for a few seconds trying to catch my breath. I could see people outside my zorb gesturing me to get up so I did and climbed out through the opening that they unzipped for me. I had no idea what the outcome of the race had been, it was only when Robbie Paul was holding a microphone in my face asking me how I felt did I realise that I'd won! It was a slightly surreal moment, hearing my voice echoing around the stadium and seeing my face on the big screen.

After my very brief on-pitch interview we were led off the pitch to collect our shoes and make our way back to our families/friends. The pain in my shoulder, which had been dully throbbing since the fall, started to increase as I walked along the touchline until I felt I couldn't breathe. I went really hot and lightheaded. We returned and stood in the tunnel and I really tried to concentrate as the team told us how well we'd done and thanked us for taking part but it was all I could do to stay stood upright. The Foxy Bingo representative must have noticed as she asked if I was alright as I'd gone very pale. I said I was fine, I'd just banged my shoulder and would be o.k after some water and catching my breath. As I bent over to put my shoes back on I nearly blacked out and it took a completely irrational fear of causing a nuisance or embarrassing myself to keep upright. I stumbled a little and must have made a noise with the pain as the Foxy Bingo rep came over again and said she thought I needed to see the St. John's Ambulance crew. I agree and was led in a small medical room just off the tunnel.

Once in there I leaned over the sink and splashed some cool water on my face, I just couldn't seem to shake the hot, lightheaded feeling that had come over me and the pain in my shoulder was unbearable. The nurse encouraged me to lie on the bed and I was happy to comply. After a few minutes, when the room had stopped spinning and I felt able to stand without falling over I stood to allow the nurse to examine me. She asked the standard questions like my name and age and what I'd done to hurt myself. She also asked if I had had anything to drink. "Yes" I replied, "some water before the race". She laughed and told me she'd meant alcohol. D'oh. I don't drink alcohol so I was o.k on that score and she gave me a couple of Ibuprofen. Finally it was time for the physical examination. I'd been holding my arm up across my chest, supporting it at the wrist with my good arm. It was the only position that made the pain bearable. The nurse had me lower my arm to my side then, holding it our straight, raise it as far up as I could to the front and again to the side. Wow, the pain. I got it just lower than horizontal forwards and less than that to the side before the pain just overwhelmed me. I really tried to tough it out but doing those arm movements brought tears to my eyes. I just kept apologising to the nurse and the poor Foxy Bingo rep (who sat in the corner looking terrified) for being such a big girl about it. Not very reassuringly the nurse said I needed to be examined by the on-site doctor and she went away to call for him. It was at this point the Foxy Bingo rep asked who I was with and if she could ring them to come and be with me. I refused. I could hear from the crowd noise that the game had re-started and there was no way I was letting Foz, my dad and brother miss the rest of it.

The doctor arrived after a few minutes. Thankfully he didn't make me repeat the arm exercises but he did have a really good feel of my shoulder, pressing all around it and asking me where the pain hurt the most. It felt like it was directly on the front of my shoulder, at the top. He reassured me it wasn't dislocated but I did need an x-ray and that I would be put in an ambulance and taken straight to Manchester Royal Hospital. I absolutely refused. There was a Warrington Wolves game going on out there and I'd already missed most of it. I wasn't missing any more of it or allowing my family and friends to. Before the doctor would allow me to return to my seat I had to assure him I would go straight to A&E after the game had finished and get the x-ray I needed, which I was happy to do. So, arm trussed up in a sling the Foxy Bingo rep escorted me pitchside, all along the edge to the opposite corner and my waiting family, who by this point were all extremely worried that I hadn't returned. On the way we passed the dugouts (where the substituted players & coaching staff sit) and I was thrilled to receive a wink from Adrian Morley, a hugely popular Warrington player. As I started to pass the beginnings of the mass of Warrington fans in the corner of the stadium I could hear some cheering building up and I looked to the pitch to see what was happening. Nothing worth cheering about that I could see so I looked back over to the crowd and realised that everyone clapping and cheering was looking at me! I returned to a hero's welcome, the few thousand Warrington fans all cheering and chanting for me and I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry! It was an incredible experience, even in as much pain as I was.

By the time I returned there was only 10 minutes left and I spent it standing very gingerly in my place with my family, terrified someone was going to knock me or bump me by accident. Luckily we were with a large group and they all looked after me. At the end, after Warrington won spectacularly (or so I'm told, in the end I missed all but the first 10 minutes!) we waited until the crowds had cleared to make our way to the exits. As I couldn't drive the plan was to leave my car in the stadium car park (which involved a little arranging with the head steward) and allow my dad to drive us to the local hospital in his car. We were very lucky he was there.

I was not looking forward to A&E. It late on a saturday night, quite possibly the worst time to be attending and I know that minor injuries like mine are pushed further and further down the queue as more serious cases come in. I expected a long night. In the end the whole visit took about an hour. And this was the result:

Ouch!

A very lovely break in my clavicle. I did a right good job too. No bruised bone or simple crack for me. A collar bone in two pieces, in a location so far to the edge that the doctor told me unless it healed right there was very little they could do corrective surgery-wise. The knobble on the end of the bone was too small to anchor a metal pin into. Yikes. I was given a fabric sling with some painkillers and told to report to my local A&E in Warrington on the monday to make an appointment at the fracture clinic.

Excuse the face. It had been a long, exhausting & painful day!

 So all that was left was to return to the hotel we were staying in and try and get some sleep. We still had tickets for the following day and I did not want to miss it. My dad drove us back to the hotel and, after picking up some spare pillows and sheets from reception we settled into our room. Poor Foz had to sleep on the sofa bed as the slightest movement was agony. I tried to sleeping sitting up, propped by lots of pillows but the pain and poor support of the cheap sling made it difficult and I slept very little. On top of that I struggled to do anything for myself, I couldn't even unbutton my own jeans. 

The following morning we slowly got ready to leave the hotel and head to the stadium. We had to book a taxi to drop us and all our bags at my car in the stadium car park then walk across to the stadium. At least the rugby was good! Home time involved my dad dropping his car at my house, Foz's dad driving him to Manchester then my dad driving Foz and I home in my car. Nightmare. thank goodness we've such amazing family around us!

The following few days were difficult and involved a lot of hastily-organised childcare by our parents. Foz had to return to work on the Monday and I couldn't even bring Bee downstairs in a morning, much less feed and dress her or change her nappy. We settled into a routine of my mum coming first thing monday and tuesday to get Bee ready and take her to nursery, then staying with me until Foz returned home from work. Wednesday was Foz's day as he's always off work. Thursday morning would bring my mum first thing again then Bee would be picked up by Foz's parents Thursday afternoon until Saturday or Sunday night depending on Foz's working hours. It must have been exhausting and hugely intrusive for our families and all I could do was watch on, feeling terribly guilty about all the trouble I'd caused. I felt the worst for Foz. Not only did he still have to work all the time but he also had to do everything at home and look after Bee entirely on his days off. He was a star though and never complained once. If I tried to lift a finger he insisted I sit down and keep my arm still. I couldn't risk it not healing correctly as the recovery would have been even worse. Thankfully a few days after the incident fracture clinic gave me a lovely padded sling to wear, which turned out to be my saviour and infinitely more supportive than the rubbish fabric one.

 
 It was a hard time and we fell behind with so many things, not least of which was my blog! Poor Bee didn't really understand what was happening and would often try to hug me or climb on my knee. It broke my heart a little every time I had to gently push her away. I missed holding her, cuddling her and feeling her little weight in my arms. I noticed the longer I stayed away from her the less often she would try and come over to me. It killed me.

 But, after 5 weeks I had my follow-up x-ray to confirm the break was healing correctly and success! Although still a small break in the bone where it hadn't quite healed, all was in place and I would need no further treatment and certainly not an operation. I was thrilled. The sling came off and the road to building my arm back up started.

I'm still going through that process. It was a couple of weeks after my x-ray that I felt able to alone with Bee, capable of changing her nappy, dressing her and lifting her in and out of the car. I've now spent my first full week alone with her and I'm still struggling with the lifting, she weighs over 2 stone and doesn't always like to co-operate but we manage o.k. It's something that will get easier with time. 

  Of course that was my first and only zorb experience. Clearly I overestimated my abilities at running in a giant plastic ball. Lesson learnt!

Celebrations

Well it's been an interesting month or so. I turned 30 at the end of May and spent a busy week with family. My uncle has a birthday a few days before mine and we had a lovely day with Bee, my mum, auntie and uncle at my grandparents house, enjoying a joint celebration with lots of presents and munching on two lots of cake! 

For my birthday I'd chosen to spend the day in one of my favourite places: Wales. I'd wanted to visit Llanberis for a long time and even though it's a long drive my birthday was the best opportunity.

Sadly the morning of my birthday was overcast and rainy but we packed the car up anyway, making sure we had lots of warm jumpers and coats. It's about a 2-hour drive to Llanberis so we set of early, grabbing a McDonalds breakfast on the way. Yummy!

LLanberis is beautiful. It's a small village at the foot of Mount Snowdon, within the incredible Snowdonia National Park. It's the site of the famous Welsh slate mines, both the abandoned and still working. Slate quarrying is very wasteful, only approximately 10% of the slate is used and the rest is discarded.
So much of the landscape is shaped by the huge rock faces of the quarries and mountainous piles of waste slate.

An interesting historical note (I'm fond of those) is that the two lakes running along side the quarries were once significantly bigger but were infilled by thousands of tons of slate and the newly-created land built on. 

  One of the reasons I'd chose Llanberis, aside from my love of that part of Wales, was because there's a lovely steam train that runs along one of the lakes and a ruined castle to explore: perfect for Bee.

She got very excited once she saw the train arriving and couldn't wait to board. We had lots of fun playing with the old-fashioned window before setting off!



The journey took us along the two-mile stretch of Llyn (lake) Padarn then back along the same route once the engine had turned. We watched the steam from the funnel fly past our window, listened to the chugging sounds, counted the boats and the lake and took lots and lots of pictures. Even Bee wanted to help!

After the train journey we took a walk into Llanberis village for some dinner, we were all getting hungry. We'd promised Bee something nice and she kept repeating "nye eat ow" - nice eat out. She can get a little impatient and doesn't always understand that when you say something is happening it doesn't mean it's happening immediately!

We ate at a local hotel and during the wait for our food Bee had a mad 10-minutes. She just charged round the space (thankfully there were no other diners) jumping and hiding, screeching and playing with the toys we'd brought. Of course, her hypotonia brings her back down eventually and her little body can't keep up with her enthusiasm. Of course once food arrived (sausage and chips in Bee's case) she was up and back at the table in a flash. With ice cream to follow it was a big winner!


The rest of our visit we spent exploring Dolbadarn Castle, beautifully located on a rise between the two lakes, giving fantastic views. thankfully by this point the low-hanging mist and grey skies had disappeared and all we had was sun!

Part of the path up to Dolbadarn Castle involved crossing a stream with a sheep gate. Bee was very proud that she navigated it all by herself! She continued this all the way to the summit of the rise, without once asking to be carried. Every steep, uneven and rock-strewn section of the path she managed with aplomb, needing only the smallest amount of hand-holding to get through it. I think it was the ice cream that fortified her!

There isn't much left of Dolbadarn Castle, just an empty circular tower with steps spiraling up around the outer wall and the crumbling remains of walls that once formed part of the whole castle. It left plenty of open space for Bee to play chase and catch with her Peppa Pig ball although she wasn't impressed by all the sheep!

By the time we'd explored around the castle it was getting late and Bee getting tired. I knew with a 2-hour+ drive ahead of us it was time to leave. We'd drove the A55 expressway for speed on the morning but on the way home I wanted to drive the longer route through the Snowdonia National Park. I couldn't be that close to that beautiful place without seeing some of it. And it was totally worth the extra 30 minutes or so on our drive home!

I really enjoyed my 30th birthday, it had been everything I wanted: spending time with my beautiful little family in the most beautiful place on earth.