Thursday 28 June 2012

An Ode to Mam

(To the tune of "It's all Part of Being a Pirate" By Don Freed - Here's a link to a poor version of the song, for those who aren't familiar... Being a Pirate is all Fun & Games)

Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til someone is sick in your hair.
Though you've just washed it,
Conditioned and brushed it,
That 'vom' will still find its way there.

And you may not have noticed,
On the back of your coat-is,
A sick stain, don't know how it's ther-rrrrrre,
Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til someone is sick in your hair-air.

It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy,
Without sick in your hair-air-air
It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy, 
Without sick in your hair.

Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til somebody poos on your clothes.
It's when you're alone,
With no-one to phone,
Telling yourself it 'smells like a rose'.

You're out with the Mam's
To the park with the prams
When you see it's splashed into your toes,
Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til somebody poos on your clo-ooooooooothes.

It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy,
Without poo on your clo-ooo-ooothes
It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy, 
Without poo on your clothes.

Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til someone wakes up in the night,
It might be from hunger,
Or to sing you a song or,
Because it's just got too light.

You fall out of bed,
Give them a pat on the head,
Tell them it will be alright,
Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til someone wakes up in the ni-iiiiiiight.

It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy,
With a full night of sle-eee-eeep.
It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy, 
With a full night of sleep.

Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til somebody catches a cold,
You might be quite normal,
Quite rational and audible,
But that sniffle, well it just won't go. 

The only answer -
You're convinced they've got cancer,
Despite what you have been told,
Being a Mammy is all fun and games, til somebody catches a co-oooold.

It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy,
Without losing your mi-iiiiinnd,
It's all part of being a Mammy
(A Mammy, A Mammy)
You can't be a Mammy, 
Without losing your mind.

Tuesday 19 June 2012

Cultural Exchange

Recently, Mu and I went as part of a team to Liverpool on a Cultural Exchange. The idea being to share some of our North Eastern ways with Scousers. That said, the numbers on our "Team" had had to be made up by Mam, (due to a late drop out) who's from Yorkshire, which needs a cultural exchange all of it's own, so we were down one man from the off...

Visiting the Capital of Culture 2008 I had high expectations, and our merry band of Mackem's had received significant training in how to make the most of their time.

Arriving late on Friday evening we were treated to dinner, however, it turns out that it's customary in Liverpool to engage in some form of Krypton Factor style challenge before you are allowed to eat. This took the form of Dad and his counter-part on the Scouse side, wrestling a travel cot out of one bedroom and into another. This, you may think was a 5 minute task, however, Dad got caught out by the collapsable drop sides and had to be rescued by Uncle Dave, who, although a trainee father himself, was not versed in this particular make of Travel Cot, and thus the two of them only managed to fold down 2 out of 4 sides and neither one put up the 'bonus points' black out blind...That said, standards are clearly low over there, as we were allowed to eat regardless of the incomplete nature the task was left in...wouldn't have been allowed in our house.

Dinner was lovely, in fact, food over the whole weekend was exceptional, I would like to speak very highly of the chicken I sampled on Sunday, and while some team members did voice doubts over the chicken, both I and the digestive systems of those who par-took of it speak for itself. Can't say the same for the vegetarians who, due to an oversight, were given a papier mache chicken breast and no gravy...

The church service on Sunday was like coming home. Mam particularly enjoyed the fact that the drummer in the worship band actually kept time, something which seems to ironically escape a lot of drummers. Dad's church service highlight was the fact that the 86 year old lady sat next to him had an iPad. All of the Mackem Team was impressed with the Scousers commitment to Sunday Lunch, where not even the built-in oven falling on a pregnant woman got in the way of us being fed. Commendation to the Scouse Team.

Overall the weekend was a success, with both parties enjoying the foibles of the other. The Scousers misunderstanding the Mackem's when they addressed women as "Man' - which in some cases was really quite awkward. The Mackem's wondering what exactly was 'fair' about Fair Trade Tea served to them throughout the weekend...both sides were, however, united in their confusion over where the relevance of the woman leading the Sunday morning services' menopause came into any of it, despite her speaking about it during a period of the service entitled "Good News"...

And while those Liverpudlians will always have a place in my heart, with their sing-songy accent and ever increasing need to calm down, and the North East now being my adopted home, I will say life isn't quite the same when everyone you associate with has legs that match their bodies...





Tuesday 12 June 2012

On A Serious Note...

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.

Lord, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lordyou know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
    Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
     If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
    and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.
13 For you formed my inward parts;
    you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
    How vast is the sum of them!
18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
    I awake, and I am still with you.
19 Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God!
    men of blood, depart from me!
20 They speak against you with malicious intent;
    your enemies take your name in vain.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?
    And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
22 I hate them with complete hatred;
    I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart!
     Try me and know my thoughts!
24 And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting!

It's been 6 months since I started this job and I thought it about time I reflected on the task so far. As I watch Mu, now 6 months old, I can't help but marvel at what she's achieved. In the time I've known her she has learnt the following...

  1. To see things
  2. To sit up
  3. To grasp objects
  4. To eat food
  5. To laugh
  6. To smile
  7. To chat
  8. To sleep through the night
  9. To kick her legs
  10. To roll over
  11. To turn her head
  12. To hold her head up
  13. To twist her body
  14. To choose her preference
  15. To communicate when she has had enough of something
  16. To recognise people
  17. To be tactile
  18. To blow raspberries
  19. To know when she has made someone laugh
  20. To understand facial expressions
This list comprises a small part of the differences in her between when she first arrived home and now, some of these aren't learnt by fully grown adults and she has mastered them in just 26 weeks...while I could go on to extoll the genius of her as an individual (Mam is convinced that she is an actual genius), it has brought me back to the Psalm above countless times over the last few months.

This was the first glimpse of her (left). Then we didn't know her name, what she looked like, even if she was a boy or a girl, and yet Mam talked endlessly about this person whom she had never met and whom she was instantly in love with. I watched as she studied the picture like she would be tested on it marvelling at how clear it was even though to the outside world it wasn't even obvious she was pregnant.

And yet, as I think of all we didn't know about her, it astounds me that God did know her. More than that was "...knitt[ing her] together"He knew her eye colour, her hair colour, her smile, her name.
And now I look at her just 6 months on, thinking how much she has changed from that small, wrinkled ball of hunger to this huge(!) giggly young lady with excellent deportment and wonder what the next few months and years hold for her. Who will she become, what will her voice sound like, what will make her laugh, what job will she do, who will she marry, and as I ponder these things, I am reminded again of this Psalm...
"Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them."

As her mother becomes more neurotic, and her father becomes more of an emotional wreak, wondering and fearing for her over the coming years, it is comforting to know that it is not all in their hands, and it never has been. Mu is on loan, gifted to them, inadequate as they are and ever increasingly will be. But perhaps given to them to help them understand something of how God feels about them as a Father, and something of his sovereign grace and power over all.
Which leaves me thinking of the words spoken of another mother...
"But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart." Luke 2:19.


Wednesday 6 June 2012

Food, Glorious Food

Mu has started to be weaned. A process that involves Mu being re-fed her regurgitated food more than once, in a head to head battle with Mam and Dad. They feed her the food and Mu raspberries it out at them. Mam has been pretty evenly covered on a daily basis but she almost took the advantage recently when Mu nearly stuck her eyelashes together with broccoli meaning she was unable to defend 3 full spoons of puree. Suffice to say it was pretty much evens as we entered Step 2 of the Weaning Plan and introduced a breakfast routine.

Dad's face as the first spoonful went in was cross between him realising he'd forgotten to put the bins out (why do dad's love bin day so much?) and what I imagine to be his face when being told that Mam had left the baby on the bus (an event that has not happened...). Mam on the other hand looked like Christmas had come and she'd been given free reign in the Lakeland Kitchenware Shop.

Mu was unimpressed but now seems to have accepted that her protests are going un-noticed and is now devouring whatever is given her and asking no questions. 1-0 Mam and Dad, although the resultant nappies take that score back to evens again...

The lastest addition to her menu is that of Wheetabix (other brands also available), which is her current favourite. I have to say it's my least favourite as being caught in the cross fire of soggy wheat biscuit has resulted in matted fur, as that stuff sets like concrete if left for longer than 3 minutes.

In the clean up process I apparently fall low down on the list of cleaning priorities which means my ribbon mane is now stuck together in a way that makes me look like Johnny Rotten - off to consider whether the only answer to this issue is to shred my t-shirt and pierce my ear with a safety pin....God Save the Queen.