Between the grained remnants of adolescence.

img_20171111_221855375989982.jpgI soared to new depths within these magnolia

spewed walls of confinement on brown plastic

chairs that burned liberation from the spirit.

We stared continuously through a blank canvas

of educational institution. Wall upon ceiling

Upon brown carpet squares.

And you were the devil.

Cloaked in Grandmas clothes.

Not my grandmother, but someone’s.

You drew air deep into your double breasted

lungs giving life to your outdated fancies of

corporal punishment.

You taught me only to fear those

words written

those thoughts driven

those ideas fit only for oblivion.

Where hung your creativity?

Lost in the sharp edge of a blunt fringe

cut and cut and cut year upon decade

upon the little girl trapped in the

grained memories of a war fought and survived.

Never a soul shone in your class

no spirits soared, no eyes feversihly

Burned beyond the dull ache of melancholy.

We were there,

but nobody knew where…

but nobody knew where.

You looked at me with the same disdain as others,

hollowed my name through pert lips everytime

you caught me smirking instead of working.

Till that day as rain fell and heat rose,

all around a collective sigh and dramatized yawns.

If ever a vortex existed

It was there, that day,

at the back of the class by the window

where the last rays afternoon of sun teased

goodbye like the ticking clock, freedom

draining its last dregs as words suddenly

sprung into life…

It all started here, her yellowing dress,

the cobwebs that consumed, love so great

pain greater still and tragic love

broken promises and tiny graves,

right here, this was the day.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

 

School echoes on the last of the summers breeze.

zoo 150

My dearest child the days have come

and passed and summers end is upon us.

School lingers, the mornings darken

as I fold away your uniform

let me tell you of my thoughts…

You are the calm between the beats of my

heart, the pride that swells every time I see

your smiling face.

Do not forget this.

Do not ever forget this.

This world can appear topsy turvy,

 your soul is oh so sensitive but know this,

you are the product of me,

inside of you,

inside of me,

is a ferocious lioness,

let her be your strength.

And when the lights shine too bright

and the noise screams

too loud, and when everything

is too hard, remember this,

You are my proudest accomplishment,

my heart skips a beat at every breath you take,

butterflies swarm through me every time

you calm your raging heart

and let that whisper out into the universe.

You are all that you are meant to be.

You are perfect, you see.

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

Structural devastation.

I have to give you back to school today,
but I hope/know deep down you will be okay.
I have to watch you as your smile fades,
As we layer clothes in a sensory haze.
I have to watch as you wring your hands,
Going through and through again the morning plans.
I have to listen as your panic sets in,
Whilst you scream and shout, you can’t find that thing.
Clothes hanging ready to wear,
Carefully selected so you know i care,
Shoes polished and shining bright,
I’ll pop them on, it’s one less fight.
We’ll leave early, drag our feet,
So hard to watch when I can see you’re beat.
A lunchtime note of love and.kisses,
a moments thought so you know i’m missing.
It starts afresh with rules to learn,
as adrenalin makes your body burn,
Heavy arms and heavy legs
It only takes a tiny sec.
I’ll kiss your hand and kiss your cheek,
It’s always hardest,
In that first week!

Karen Hayward ©2016.

The lions whisper.

Dear Teacher,

Today I trust you with my world,

so please, take care of my little girl.

She worked so hard to make it here

to fight back the terrible fear.

It’s hard for you to understand,

if you’ll only listen, I know you can.

Anxiety is no ones friend,

but most of all it’s not pretend.

Too scared to move,

you doubt it’s true,

if only for a moment, I wish you knew.

It’s not a coat or a badge of pride,

it’s a crippling fear, deep down inside.

It wears no face, it has no laugh,

it’s not tattooed there upon a scarf.

So hold her hand, take deep breaths,

she’s using up all that’s left.

That little whisper, is a lions roar,

don’t wait until, she can take no more.

Today I trust you with my world,

so please, take care of my brave, brave girl.

A fucked up song of life.

Sometimes my mind thinks that it is just fine to take a song and mix it up. This is an assembly time special that school just loved to force us to sing. :-).

Little donkey,
little donkey,
on a coke head high,
gotta keep on
buzzing onwards
on a coke head high.

Major Mummy rant :).

Grrr don’t you just hate days that start bad? It’s like a bad omen for the day that weighs heavily on my shoulders.  So I just want to start by saying that I am one of the most laid back people you are ever going to meet. I want to say that I just don’t really give a fuck, but that is a lie, I give a fuck, I just carefully choose the battles I get into. See it may seem like I go through life whispering, but I don’t, when I need to, my voice is loud, louder than most. I can argue that black is white and vice versa, I can argue anything that I truly believe in and I do, because I  am a firm believer that if someone else can’t find their voice, then I will help them, I never have problems finding my voice if I feel an injustice has occurred.

Ok so let’s just dive in. I was stood at the front door, you know that little time portal of space between leaving the house on time and leaving late, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a mother fucking spider. It was huge, usually spiders do not bother me, but this one had stripes, bloody stripes I tell ya, and I swear it was eyeing me up for size measurements. So being cleaver I kinda jumped away from the door and pulled it closed at the same time…I caught my fucking finger in the letter box. I’ve a  fucking gaping gash, just below the nail, it’s my writing finger too. :(. Ok so I carry on, as you do,  blood pouring down and dripping off the end of my finger. The girl (that’s my adorable gal, she is seven.) is fussing over me, she’s a fuss pot, worries way too much about everything. It’s stinging like a fucking cunt, and I want to suck away the blood but I know it’s gonna sting. So deep breaths, it’s all going well…..and onto the next rant!

So a new guy has moved in round the corner from my house. I’ve noticed him, I couldn’t help noticing him. Why? Because the very first time I saw him, he looked straight at me, from my hair down too my toes, smiled and said “Wow red is your colour!” ummm thanks! Am I like one of the only ones that just simply doesn’t like it when someone does this? Anyway, whenever he see’s me (which is a surprisingly lot) He’s getting braver, and he is very almost at that point where he is gonna stop and try talking too me. I know this because as I walked along the alley dripping blood, he looked me straight in the eye and hesitated, he stopped and smiled! I skipped past him rushing the girl along. Great, seriously I hate being chatted up, I honestly hate being noticed, I do not go out of my way to get myself noticed. Quite the opposite, i’m the gal that keeps my cleavage covered even in the middle of the summer. On the rare occasions when I get it out, if I sense someone looking at my boobies, yep, I slip my jumper back on! I know right, crazy, but seriously they are my boobies, if you ain’t got permission to look, then don’ fucking look! Ha ha in fairness my hormones might be dictating this anger toward a very innocent person, so I shall move along with the rant…

School. Holy fuck where to even start.

I hate the fucking school, or her teacher maybe, i’m not sure, obviously I haven’t shared this with my daughter though!

Ok so the girl, isn’t able to regulate her body temperature, she runs on super hot at all times, when she gets too hot she vomits it’s the bodies way off cooling her down. The school know this, and in reception and year 1 it wasn’t a problem. Oh but this year the teacher decided she didn’t believe me, she decided she knew best, she decided not to trust the girl to be able to assess what layers she needed, she told the girl that the other kids were cold (it was late autumn) and so she must be cold, she told the girl that if the other children were wearing their cardigans then the girl also needed to wear her cardigan, the girl lasted a couple of days before vomiting all down herself, which the teacher at the back of the class missed, and the one that she walked past to get through the class, she missed it too, and the one on the door also missed the child coming out of class with vomit all down the front of her! Yeah, I went mental, completely mental at the school. So anyway, a plan of action was created, rather than keeping the girl off school for 48 hours every time she over heated it was decided that 24 was sufficient as long as the girl was not sick a second time and showed no symptoms of sickness bug.

The girl was sick on Monday, no other signs of sickness bug (turns out she has a severe ear infection in both ears…she doesn’t recognise any pain or changes that occur inside of her body, she can’t say this hurts that hurts, not if it is occurring inside her body, so it is always extremely difficult to know if she is unwell) , so today I took her back in, she is well enough to go back in, christ she doesn’t even know she is sick!

Teacher stops us at the door.

I am ready.

I expect her to kick off again cos the girl is wearing shorts (I got told off for the shorts last week.) I tell her straight off, she’s wearing the shorts till the end of term, if it’s an issue point me toward whoever, but she is wearing the shorts till the end of term, you guys know she has an above average understanding of instructions and concepts, you made the confusion (this is another story, another day perhaps) you sort it, till then she is in shorts.

Teacher simply smiles and tries to explain to me what happened, in honesty I don’t actually want to hear, trust me I am well aware of how easy it is to cause the girl confusion, and I spend every minute of every day breaking down my words making sure I have explained it in a black and white way, for the girl that can’t see any grey.

Anyway, so then she says, she can’t come back yet, it ain’t been 48 hours.

I actually wanted to growl at her, for fuck sake, seriously we’ve been here. Today ain’t just any day either today, is meet the new teacher day, the girl can’t miss today, she needs today, she needs the reassurance, meeting her another day is just unbalancing the scales.

So I tell her, it weren’t the sickness bug. I swear they are obsessed by the sickness bug.

Teacher: Don’t matter gotta be 48 hours.

Me: Really? That’s not what was decided earlier in the year.

Bloody TA jumps in yeah but that time she over heated.

Me: and this time she overheated?

Anyway fucking twenty minutes, stood at the door waiting for them to make their fucking minds up. Teacher was adamant that the girl weren’t going in. I sent them off to talk to the nurse. The good old nurse, see she gets it, she understands cos she is medically trained.

She laughed, and said of course the girl can come in, it’s the girl, of course she was sick she has an ear infection, best place for her I reckon, knowing the girl it’s unlikely she’s in the mood to sit and rest.

 

Dear fucking god, the teachers face was a picture.

Seriously though school get your fucking act together. Am just waiting for the senco to ring back, I doubt they will. But I shall be kicking off again. The bloody TA let slip that the girl had actually been complaining all day monday of a stomach ache…this is the one single ailment that the girl can express, it can mean she needs the toilet, it can mean she is scared, it can mean she has tonsilitis (the nurse told me that 🙂 ) the school know first hand however that it can also mean that she is actually running a temperature, which is why the plan of action states that she is be taken to the nurse if she still has a stomach ache after completing the classroom steps…did they take her to the nurse? Hell no of course not, cos that would take fucking brain cells! So basically they wanted me to keep her home, for a mistake that they made, had they taken her to the nurse on Monday they would have discovered she was running a temp, she then would have taken calpol, maybe even been sent home, she would not have over heated and been sick! Fucking school!

 

Ok i’m desperate for a wee now, so rant over, finger is looking decisively dodgy and still stinging like a fucker.

 

Blossom666 xx

The fight begins…

I am a 33 year old thinker, I can spend hours running thoughts through my mind.  By now I should have learned that writing them down always helps, but apparently not because I have been festering over this thought for days!

A few days back I recieved my daughters latest OT (Ocupational Therapist) report, not much had changed since her last review, except the tiny minut sentence suggesting that her behaviour might be an indication of learning needs. This is the first time any of the professionals have recognised that my daughters behaviour might not be due to low confidence (this has been their argument up until now).

There are tons of blogs all over the internet from parents all with a very different story to tell.  Today I am going to publish my post to fall in among the rest, and if just one parent/guardian reads it and finds comfort that they are not alone, then I will consider it a success. 🙂

Lets start with a  little background, my lovely daughter who I will now refer to as Daisydoo (just because it is the cutest name ever, but I would never be crazy enough to actually call my child that!) she was as perfect a baby as anyone could expect. Within the first week she was sleeping through the night, she was a happy and very contented baby. She very quickly adapted to routine, of course looking back now it is clear to see that she did in fact struggle if the routine was changed. She has always been a great sleeper (of course we have like every parent had the odd nightmarish night where sleep completely eluded her) however she was just 15 months old when she had her very last day time nap, it became clear that Daisydoo loved sleep, but didnt need a great deal of it. No matter how much we do in a day, tiredness just never seems to hit her!

The first indication that Daisydoo needed a little extra help was her speech, at 2 years old she had a vocabulary of only a few words. It is also important at this stage to say that Daisydoo didnt actually care, she would not get frustrated (in the way we imagine frustration to be)  because she couldnt communicate, instead she expressed her frustration by just walking of, she had a very laid back attitude to life!

Between 2-3 we started to notice Daisydoo didnt have the same mobility as other children her age, her movements were calculated, slower and she would spend ages observing the children playing but never participating herself. We attended a Mother and Toddler group, where every week she would attempt to play on the small slide, first she watched then she slowly got closer until finally she was climbing the three small steps, this is where it all went wrong. At the top of the slide, she wasn’t able to position herself correctly, she would hold the sides and sit back….into thin air, landing on the soft mat on the very few occasions I wasn’t there to catch her! Every week I showed her how to do it, everyweek we watched the other children, and we talked about how they did it, but she never did manage it, and even now unless the slide has a platform to sit on at the top (even this courses her difficulty) she still doesn’t know how to manoevouer her body to get down the slide.

Pre-school uncovered further mobility issues, Daisydoo struggled to get herself of the ground from the sitting position, she wasn’t able to express her needs (resulting in lots of washing) and she was still not speaking (although by this point her speech had started to develop at home). So we were reffered for assessment to the educational psychologist. Of course Daisydoo was still young and so her behaviour was put down to her having low confidence, lots of things were put into place to help to encourage her, but weve just started in year 1 and the problems are still apparent (although, thank fully she can now express her needs).

It would be wrong of me to say  that nothing has changed because in facts lots of things have changed. Firstly, after mentioning to the speech therapist that Daisydoo was unable to do any kind of blowing (straw, blowing bubbles) we were given some excercises to help her to control her tongue, this helped so much, once as Daisydoo was able to control the movements of her, jaw, lips and tongue speech literally tumbled out, for a long time we were stuck on words with just one syllable, until finally walking to preschool she managed a very clumsy ‘hip hip horay’ (I can still vividly remember the exact moment 🙂 ) of course once as she had mastered stringing two or more syllables together there really was no stopping her. However I also noticed that Daisydoo would only use a word if she knew exactly how to use it, she had to understand the purpose of the words she was using, rather than simply copying them. Daisydoo’s latest speech therapy report indicated that she now has a vocabulary above her chronilogical age :). So clearly the hard work of constant repitition and constant describing and talking paid of we now have ourselves a complete and utter chatterbox, who uses some amazing words to express herself ‘that dinner was delicious mum’ is always one of my favourites! Unfortunately her teachers look at me as if I am mad when I mention her constant chatter, because at school she is still not talking as much as she can (hopefully the day will come when the school will wish for the quite little Daisydoo back instead of the chatterbox, we’ll see).

Anyway lets get up to date, Daisydoo still has mobility issues, she has hypermobility throughout the body. She also has issues in Gross Motor Skills and Fine Motor Skills, Motor Co-ordination and Visual Motor Integration,in the latter two her recent scoring is 78. At this point I don’t know what any of this means, she has not been diagnosed as having any kind of learning needs (although this has now been hinted at).

My biggest concern for her at the moment is that her low scoring in Motor Co-ordination and Visual Motor Integration means that, holding a pencil and using a pencil causes her massive difficulties as well as this she is not able to transfer what she percieves in front of her accurately into motor movements. Basically writing is a massive struggle for her, of course writing is also a foundation of the education system…this is why, on Thursday of this week I have an appointment to speak to the sen at her school, about getting her assessed again, in the hope that they will see that Daisydoo needs extra help, I know I/we (Daddy too!)  have a fight on my hands, perhaps the biggest fight I have ever had in my life…but im ready for it (I think)!!!