Defining Moment from a Gem of a Mum

We all have those utterly defining moments as mothers. You know, those moments when the guilt, the responsibility, the joy, the guilt, the terror or the absolute unquestionable love smacks us in the face and momentarily takes our breath away. Know the ones I mean? I bet you've got a million to choose from.

Because it's the month of March, the month of International Women's Day (rock on), Mother's Day (chill out) and, let's not forget pancake day (pig out!), I've asked some mums I know and admire to share a defining moment on the Cool Rule blog. I, myself, am usually unashamedly taking advantage of the blogosphere to share my own never-ending defining moments, so I thought it was time to let somebody else have a go.

Today, it's Jacqui Bowley from JBow Jewellery. Jacqui is a diamond. She makes beautiful silver jewellery using crystals and delicate beads as well as bespoke silver prints so you can capture your child's handprint or fingerprint in 99.9% silver. And she's brave too. Not only has she shared her defining moment with us, but also a bit of background so we get a hint of her story too. Here we go:



Having struggled with post-natal depression after having both of my beautiful boys I often worry about the effects that it might have had on them. I especially worry about my eldest son as, bless him, he has watched me struggle with it pretty much all of his life up until about four or five months ago. Thankfully now, with the help of my family and friends, and the incredible, unwavering love I get from my boys, there seems to be light at the end of the tunnel.

Jacqui and her boys

 


















My defining moment (and there are lots to choose from) came one school day morning not too long ago. I don’t really know what happens in our house on a morning. There seems to be some strange shifting of time, or perhaps I just black out somewhere between 8.30 and 8.45am. Because things usually seem to be running along just fine. Plenty of time on the clock. Breakfasting, dressing, teeth brushing and all the rest of the usual morning routine seems to be somehow happening. Then, suddenly, as if some kind of evil time travel trick has occurred, there are only seconds left and if we don’t leave immediately we will be catastrophically late.

So, on this particular morning, running the usual risk of catastrophic lateness, I was telling the boys in as patient a tone as possible, that mummy really prefers not to be late and it would be ever so useful if they could put their shoes on etc etc. And just when I was about to launch into one of my famous lectures on lateness, my eldest, threw back his head, opened his mouth wide and started singing. Really, really singing. He was properly belting it out. I can’t even remember what the song was but it was lovely and loud and tuneful and just so full of expression. It was a real defining moment, plucked straight out of the normality of a typical morning in our home. Stress and worry were as far away from him as they could be and that's when I thought 'Jacqui, look at your son, singing away to his heart's content. You're doing just fine.'



Aw, Jacqui, we love this! And it sounds so familiar too.

If you want to see Jacqui's beautiful work for yourself, check her out on facebook:

facebook.com/JBowjewellery
facebook.com/preciousmomentsinsilver

If you'd like to share one of your own defining moments as a mum, just email abi@thecoolrulecompany.co.uk with 100-500 words and one or two photos of you and your children. If you have your own business, I'd be happy to feature information about that too.

And now you can check out The Cool Rule Company's amazing range of happy living products at thecoolrulecompany.co.uk, Like us on Facebook and Follow us on Twitter!

Not What They Seem . . .

Well it seems that it is somehow getting round to that time of year again. Surely it was just yesterday I was having fish finger picnics in the garden and slapping suncream on the Tots' noses at every given opportunity? But remarkably, the nights do appear to be getting darker and the weather annoyingly colder and Little Tot does seem to be staging regular stand-offs in the kitchen about which hat, glove and scarf set he will wear. Winter is upon us.

And we all know what that means. Christmas is coming.

At a massive five years old, Big Tot certainly knows what that means too. Time to write the Christmas list. Time to scrawl in laboured, shaky letters next to ripped-out, glued-on pictures from the Argos catalogue and expect Santa to know exactly what he's on about. Angry Bird costume. Tardis play tent. Robot head. iPad that's not Daddy's. Hah. Good luck with that one, Santa.

But I have been reflecting lately, on the fact that, like many aspects of parenting, the toys that inevitably appear around Christmas time and birthdays often do not live up to expectation. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that some of them have the extraordinary capacity to make family life a living hell. I exaggerate not.

Let's look at the evidence:

Woody from Toy Story
The hubby and I bought a talking Woody doll for Big Tot when he was a wee nipper at just two years old. Fifty precious pounds of our very own money was spent on this beautiful abstract promise that Big Tot would inevitably make life-long buddies with said doll and perhaps live out a life in enchanting parallel with Andy in the Toy Story movie.

What actually occurred was really rather disturbing. Woody, as we all know, has a hat. A cowboy hat. A cowboy hat that Big Tot insisted, nay demanded, should not only be permanently on, but also permanently straight. If the hat tipped even to the tiniest, jauntiest angle, Big Tot would scream. If it came off, Big Tot would scream louder. Now I consider myself to be a very resourceful mother and thought my string-attached-to-hat technique would be a winner. But no. That was an alien component Big Tot was simply not willing to accept which he demonstrated by biting it off.

I think that angle is ever so slightly off

I was tempted on many, many occasions to Super Glue the hat on and be done with it but feared that would induce a swift turnaround in Big Tot's expectations for Woody. They had a complex thing going on and I figured I was best kept out of it.

Luckily, it all came to a gruesome end a year or two later when Little Tot came along and decapitated Woody. Job done.

Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story
Do you see a theme forming here?

Anyway, thinking Buzz Lightyear would be the perfect pal for Woody and perhaps distract Big Tot from the ongoing hat issue, we bought a second-hand Buzz on eBay. All was going well . . . until Buzz dared to bend his arm in a particularly tough duel with a plastic dinosaur. Oh no, no, no, Buzz. Didn't you know? Your arms must remain permanently straight at ALL times.

Right, where's the sellotape?

Buzz didn't know this. Mummy didn't know this. But Big Tot clearly thought the future of the entire world depended on it and went wildly into tantrum land whenever Buzz's poor, tired arm fancied a rest. I rode this storm for THREE MONTHS people, before the sellotape was out and those arms were taped straight good and proper. A woman can only take so much.

Harry Potter's Wand
No, that is not a euphemism.

Big Tot's Harry Potter phase seemed to last forever so surely it would be safe for Santa to bring him a swooshing, light-up wand? Surely?

Such an innocent looking thing

Did you know it doesn't have an actual 'off' switch? Did you know that you have to leave it alone for approximately ten minutes before it stops lighting up intermittently and making that bloody swooshing noise over and over again? And did you further know that a toddler simply CANNOT understand this and that they will just pick it up again and again furiously searching for an 'off' switch without realising that they are exacerbating things by giving it the swooping motion that it damn well wants? This is what you call war.

Postman Pat Motorbike
Postman Pat does not sit straight in it.

Hungry Caterpillar Book
Action figures do not fit through the holes in the pages.

Fireman Sam Ladder
Fireman Sam does not stay on it.

Play Dough
It does not fit in ear hole.

Soldier Action Figure
Back pack does not open

Plastic Rocket
It has a voice that counts down the blast-off when surely the natural order of numbers is 1-2-3-4-5?


So, I think it is plain to see that, where a toddler is concerned, pretty much every toy has the potential to disrupt the happiest of families. I therefore, rest my case.

God only knows what wonders await us this year. What with Big Tot wanting to know the inner workings of everything from Darth Vader's helmet to my actual mind, and Little Tot's tendency to lose, destroy and generally decapitate things, we are in for a treat.

Go well,

Abi


Explore Abi's superb range of happy living products for you and your toddler at thecoolrulecompany.co.uk

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Mummy's Day Off

Imagine this, if you will.

I'd been offered FREE babysitting for a WHOLE night by a VERY GOOD friend which only happens ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (sorry about the capitals, but it is more than warranted on this occasion, I think you'll agree).

And not only that, but I'd totally forgotten about this arrangement until the NIGHT BEFORE (ok, I'll stop now). So imagine my glee when the text arrived from the aforementioned very good friend / guardian angel: 'What time are you bringing the boys tomorrow? I want to take them to the coast.'

The coast? She could take them to the bloody moon for all I cared if it meant I got a whole day and night of lovely quality time and lots and lots of silence in my house. I mean, the silence would be potent. Hell, it would probably be so potent I could bottle it and sell it and make the fortune I've been meaning to make since I lost my career-building capabilities on account of being a full-time mum / slave / nurse / confidante / fixer of Batman toys.

This was good, good, news. So, I set about packing and the Tots took particular delight in filling a couple of rucksacks with 'special' toys to take with them (I'm not sure Woody from Toy Story's decapitated head would be welcome in my friend's household but hey-ho). The next morning we arrived gleefully at my friend's house and the Tots immediately ran off to play / ransack her home. Not before a few snot-laced kisses had been administered to Mummy though, who was off to well and truly paint the town red.

But first there was a fruit scone waiting for me at a local coffee house / gift shop called Bayberry Hollow. It's a place I'd been meaning to go to for weeks but on account of its intricate display of beautiful and breakable objects, I'd been reluctant to drag two unappreciative Tots inside. And as this was MY DAY (sorry, I just can't help myself), I would eat as many scones as humanly possible and peruse beautiful, handcrafted items at an achingly slow, leisurely pace.

Get your laughing gear round that

And I did this with my Mam who (I think) was equally happy to be meeting me somewhere that didn't involve ball pools or soft play apparatus of any kind. Oh how we chatted without interruption! Oh how we did not have to share our scones! Oh how toilet trips belonged only to us! This, I was sure, was the warm-up for a very exciting day.

Then hubby rang me from work to explain, joyously, that he had finished his shift. Now I was sure the gods of babysitting were smiling down on me. The hubby never, ever finishes work before 11pm on a Saturday. But not today baby! Today was ours!

So what did we do? We met at the Metro Centre! Of course we did. Everybody who is familiar with the vastness of the North East's iconic shopping centre will know that it has magical, magnetic powers which force anybody with a millisecond of spare time to gravitate towards it in a zombie-like, credit-card-wielding sort of way. And that was us. In TK Maxx we found each other next to the men's Autumn Collection. I think we fell in love all over again.

Can you feel the gravitational pull?

But it was only a matter of minutes before we found ourselves browsing the toy aisles. What new madness was this? Only hours away from the Tots and I find myself among superhero Busy Books and plush Postman Pats? Erm, not today people.

So we glided out and made our way to the Metro Centre food court.

Perhaps we could grab a spontaneous bite to eat in a non-family-oriented-type place. Who cares if Pizza Express do Fruit Shoots? We laugh in the face of your Fruit Shoots. Give us cocktails, or beer, or wine! We could even go to the cinema to see ANYTHING (!) we wanted. We checked the listings. Because we could.

Disappointingly, there was buggar-all on offer at the cinema. I did not want to pay almost £15 to see a bag of tripe. But we were not deterred for we would dine like tycoons instead. Bring on the caviar!

But then we suddenly (and annoyingly) recalled the internet-banking session we'd had two days before and (even more annoyingly) recalled the sorry state of our overdraft. Bloody 24 hour internet banking. I'd prefer to live in ignorance of my rising debt thank you very much.

That hardly mattered though. We would do something free and wonderful instead. We'd escape the Metro Centre and go for a walk. In the woods. Where there were trees and birdsong and fresh air. Yes. We'd ignore our growling tummies and embrace nature instead. How romantic!

However, upon returning to the car, I realised my stupid little ballet-type shoes were hardly forest-trekking attire and the hubby pointed out that he couldn't get his work trousers dirty as he would need to wear them again the next day (yes, we have an inadequate laundry system). So we just got in the car and drove for a bit.

As we drove along on this glorious, glorious day of quality time for us and only us, it became increasingly obvious that we did not have a bloody clue what to do when faced with a day without our children. There were no noses to wipe. No demands to be met. We were crap at this.

And what do you do when you're suspicious that your life may be sadder than sad? You go to the pub. Wetherspoons to be exact. And you order a big pint of beer and a big plate of food (the cheapness of it all!) and you bloody well get over it.

Sorts your life out

Back at home we made a pact that absolutely no housework of any kind would be done and settled ourselves in front of the telly with a blanket for a Lovefilm-athon. Get in. This was going to be good. I selected 'Bridesmaids' before the hubby could make a peep of protest and felt particularly smug when he seemed to enjoy it really quite a lot. Hah! Girl power!

Unfortunately I fell asleep during the next film and the hubby had to carry me to bed in a way that did not, sadly, resemble any kind of romantic scene. From what he told me, he may as well have been disposing of a body. The sleep was deep and there was drool. Enough said.

The next morning I woke at 7.30am. Bloody typical. I tried to go back to sleep, I really did, but my body clock was having none of it. So, in a determined, last-ditch attempt to relax before the Tots burst back into the domain, I made a cuppa and flicked on Lovefilm. And there it was. The film I had been wanting to watch for months but never had because the hubby refused to watch it on account of it being listed under 'Musicals' . . .

Black Swan.

The dark thriller starring Natalie Portman. Not a musical at all. But about a ballerina who goes a bit mental in her aspirations to perform as the Swan Queen in Swan Lake. Did it even occur to me that this might not be your traditional Sunday morning viewing? Astoundingly, it did not.

Multiple personalities, suicide attempts, self-harming, haunting melodies, hallucinations, obscure body parts, tragic love affairs. By the end of it I was a gibbering wreck. My heart was on the floor.

Don't go it alone

So when Big Tot crashed through the front door I nearly jumped out of my skin. He dashed towards me and I pulled him in like my life depended on it. 'Mummy, Mummy, I've got a Darth Vader now and he's a baddy and he's my best new friend and I missed you but I had a good time and I ate toast.'

Little Tot flung his warm little body at me and smeared me in his signature snot whilst jabbering away in toddler-speak. Oh this was wonderful! My favourite two little people in the world were back and filling the house with laughter and demands and mess and stories. Woo hoo!

And just like that, everything was as it should be.

Go well,

Abi



If you want to find out about Abi's brilliant range of happy living products for parents and toddlers, just visit, thecoolrulecompany.co.uk

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Cheesy Peas

I should have listened to my inner-shudder when I first opened the email. It was from my Mam. She was excited. I could tell by the extravagant use of exclamation marks and capital letters. 'Here you are!!!! ENJOY!!!' she beamed brightly across the digital cosmos.

It was a Groupon. But not just any Groupon.  It was a Groupon claiming to be worth two hundred and forty five pounds . 'Family photo shoot with hair and make-up for one person'. And that one person just had to be the mum, didn't it? I couldn't quite picture Big Tot with a bouffant or Little Tot sporting a touch of lippy. Maybe the hubby, with his annoyingly long silken locks would fancy an up-do but I was fairly certain this makeover was aimed at the maternal among us. What normal, every-day mum wouldn't fancy a bit of glamming-up as a welcome break among the drudgery of domesticity?

Look how much fun I could have!

Erm, me.

I have to admit I rarely leave the house without the sacred application of mascara but an actual make-over? Not on my top ten list of things to buy a Groupon for. And when I checked the website of the company generously offering this Groupon my pessimism deepened. Most of the makeovers seemed to feature a basque or two. Some spiky high heels. Some curious choices of 'artistic' lighting. But surely they wouldn't expect me to partake in this? Especially with a grouchy toddler and a child who thinks he owns the world tagging along.

But this was a treat from my Mam and we would cash this Groupon in with total enthusiasm and gratitude. If nothing else, it was a reason to get out of our pyjamas before eleven in the morning (oh yes, we are embracing the summer holidays wholeheartedly) and maybe, just maybe, we'd get proof that we do, sometimes, remain in the same room as a whole family, unequipped with iPads and Nintendo 3DS's.

So, after a heated near-divorce with the satellite navigation system, we finally found the private house where our photo shoot was to take place. We were ushered into a (very) posh reception room by a (very) pretty lady with our many bags of pyjamas, teddies, Mario costumes and plastic swords (can you tell I'd already planned how this photo shoot was going to go?).

Something like this would do nicely

I tried to explain to Big Tot that the hand-carved, soapstone chess pieces may look like toys fit for a five-year-old but were, in fact, 'very dangerous grown-up things that may explode upon the touch of a child', whilst the hubby negotiated with the pretty lady how long the makeover would take and consequently how long he would have to entertain the Tots at the nearby park. "It shouldn't take longer then twenty minutes" was her advice. Ok then. Either I was so beautiful I needed only a miniscule amount of make-up or I was a lost cause. I didn't dwell on which one it might be.

Luckily the pretty lady was actually very good at her job (hence the prettiness, most likely) and she had me spruced up in no time. This did not stop the hubby from returning ten minutes early and demanding to know why my transformation was not yet complete. The second half of my make-over was spent further confirming my suspicion of the exploding grown-up chess pieces and allowing a toddler to shove a mirror literally in my face at every given opportunity.

Now it was time for the actual photo shoot. The Tots were decked out in multi-coloured stripey tops and jeans. The hubby and I in jeans and white T-shirts. Obligatory bare feet, of course. The PJs and costumes were for later, when we'd happily and joyfully change and show what a fun-loving, adapt-to-anything-type family we were.

Big Tot kicked off the proceedings. He was instructed by our entirely pleasant photographer to kneel down, stand up, put hands in pockets, smile and say 'Cheesy Peas!' many, many, many times. He did as he was told but alas the smiles were without soul, without that wicked Big Tot glint that we all know and love. Maybe he'd relax in a minute.

Cheesy Peas - would they make you smile?

Then Little Tot shuffled onto the scene. The photographer went with this, which was good, and the hubby and I looked at our boys with adoring eyes. How natural. How lovely. How in-the-moment. But then Little Tot was given similar instructions on how to sit, stand, lean, smile etc. We didn't panic. Not yet. Yes, Little Tot may only be two years old and may be notorious for never, ever doing anything other than what he damn well wants, but this photographer would be well versed in the world of toddlers, wouldn't he? He would know how to extricate a natural smile, an effortless scene of play and brotherly adoration.

Or not.

As soon as Big Tot got bored and strutted over to me for yet another explanation of why, exactly, he was here, Little Tot flipped out. The flashing lights, the white walls, the lack of actual family in this family photo shoot were freaking him right out. It was tears and tantrums all the way now.

So we all rushed onto the scene. The nearness of his family would sort Little Tot right out and assure him everything was normal and conducive to joy / cheer / anything resembling a smile. But nope. It is true what they say about children tuning in to the stress of their parents. I already knew the hubby was in a storming mood, which cranked up my hysteria a notch or two which, inevitably, gave both Tots a reason to grab, cry, scream, stomp, ask to play on the iPhone etc etc.

My last-ditch attempt was to suggest to the photographer that perhaps we could give the Tots a chance to calm down, get some toys out and just go for some more natural shots. That might be the only way forward now. But he continued to ask us to lean in a bit more, move a hand, smile wider, and shout out 'Cheesy Peas' with ever increasing gusto.

Needless to say we did not unbag the plastic swords or Mario costumes. The pillow-fight-in-pyjamas scene I had developed in my head would sadly have to wait until another day. By the time another family was practically banging down the door of the photo studio to tempt their own luck, Little Tot was past himself and Big Tot had a permanently bad attitude. My own attitude was tested when the photographer suggested we pay one hundred pounds for a CD of appalling photos, and further still when he explained that that 'free' print included in the Groupon would cost £10 to be posted to our home. Or, he added helpfully, we could pick it up from the house in a few weeks. I remembered how close the satellite navigation system had come to being thrown out of the sunroof and politely declined.

So that's why I should have listened to my inner-shudder right at the beginning of this tale. My little family is simply not cut out for photo shoots. Or that particular photographer was simply not cut out for my little family. Truth be known, it was probably a bit of both so, for now, I'll continue to spontaneously snap my boys on the iPhone and allow Mario moustaches all round. It's quite clearly the way forward.

The Tots working the camera as only they know how

But thanks Mam. It really was a lovely thought.

Go well,

Abi
xxx


Check out Abi's amazing range of happy living products for toddlers and parents at www.thecoolrulecompany.co.uk

Follow Abi's up-to-the-minute parental observations and wisdom at facebook.com/thecoolrulecompany and on Twitter, @coolrulecompany.

Birthday Blog Post No. 11

Well it's the end of the month and that means the end of The Cool Rule Company's birthday celebrations (blub!).

So to round things off I've lined up the perfect guest blogger. Heather Carter is a life coach and motivational trainer specialising in Emotional Freedom Technique. I saw her speak recently and was so wowed by her that I just had to include her in this guest post series. Enjoy!
 

Hi, I'm Heather and I met Abi recently at a Teesside Inspire meeting where I was the guest speaker. I was giving a talk about procrastination. But just because I know a lot about the topic doesn’t mean I’m always perfectly well organised or on time. In fact, I was within a whisker of being late with this guest blog! Why? Because I made a note in my diary of the day it was due but I didn’t schedule time actually to write it: the most basic of mistakes!

Heather taking her blog post to the wire

But do I have to be 100% perfect? No! Of course not. Who is?


And am I beating myself up because I made a fundamental and potentially embarrassing error? NO! What would be the point?


I’ve learned from it, and that’s the bit that matters. It was simply a timely reminder to practice what I preach (organisation, planning, forgiveness, acceptance, laughter, allowing).

Go on- laugh at those missed deadlines!

I could have chosen to feel angry and negative about myself for my failure, and for having to knuckle down NOW to an unscheduled task, (and anger, like happiness, is always a choice).  But being angry or coming up with excuses wouldn’t have changed the fact that I had nearly let Abi down. However, it would have put me under extra pressure and would have stifled my ability figuratively to sharpen my pencil and get on with the task in hand. So I calmly and gently faced the error, gave it my curiosity, examined it with an open mind and allowed the solution to flow into me.

Make space in your mind for the good stuff

The mistake itself was the inspiration I needed for the promised blog post on acceptance and allowing! (Accepting I had made a fundamental error and letting go of any negative emotion surrounding it; allowing inspiration to flow into the space in my head where a negative response could have been).


It was my emphasis on the importance of ‘allowing’ that Abi loved about my talk in June, which brings me neatly to what I loved about Abi’s fabulous Cool Rule Book when I saw it that day. I instantly loved the freedom built in to the framework of the book; the way her design signposts ideas and inspiration whilst creating space for the child’s own unique voice. I love the space she leaves for recording those truly individual decisions with quirky photographs or creative drawings. I love that every book of Cool Rules is a one-off; a unique record of one child’s earliest steps on the journey towards self actualisation and self respect.

Big Tot's on his way with his Cool Rule Book

I really don’t think it’s an exaggeration to reflect that The Cool Rule Company helps to lay down the foundations for a family’s future ability to live in harmony through resolution and respect – and from there for the child to grow through life with the confidence that grows from an innate sense of self and others. From Cool Rules Cool Rulers will grow – so I can think of at least one very new young person who should receive one asap!





Heather, thanks so much and I think most of us could learn from your inspirational philosophies, especially us parents of little people who have our endurance and patience stretched as a daily practice!

Check out why Heather gives The Cool Rule Book such a glowing report at www.thecoolrulecompany.co.uk - you're bound to find at least one product to delight a tot in your life!

If you'd like to know more about what Heather does, you can visit her website at www.readyforchangenow.co.uk or by emailing her at Heather@readyforchangenow.co.uk
 
Heather will be giving a talk on procrastination to the Darlington Inspire Network on Thursday 12th September at 10am.

Heather will also be giving a free workshop on 'Health From the Inside Out' at Teesside University’s Darlington Campus on Thursday 22nd August at 5.30 and 7pm (email for confirmation of date and time), looking at the way emotions affect health and wellbeing including weight loss and gain. An 8 week weight balancing programme will start in September (dates TBA – please email for information).