Personality Vs birth placement

So I saw this picture on Twitter recently…..

 

It got me thinking about my children: Girl one is 10 years old (going on 17!), Girl two is very nearly 5 years old and the boy is 3 on Saturday. Does this apply to my children in any way?

Coincidently, I was recently struck by a realisation that despite I have brought my children up in the same way, by the same rules, values and beliefs; they are all very different in personality. Girl one is sporty, tomboy-ish, nervous and eager to please and fit in. Girl two is a girly-girl, wants everything purple and sparkly, wants to wear dresses, be a princess with lipstick. Boy is football mad (yes even at the tender age of 2!), loveable, stubborn and loves laughing, and wants a bit of everything. So even though they have been raised following the same rules as each other, their individualism is starting to creep out.

But does the pecking order of birth into the family have anything to do with it? I have looked at the list and broken it down.

I will start with the First born: Girl one

Natural leader: When amongst her siblings, yes she is very much a natural leader!

High Achiever: As with most children I suspect, only when it comes to subjects she likes, enjoys and is good at. Jujitsu for example, she is doing brilliantly with this.

Organised: Not at all! I am afraid that her bedroom is like a constant bomb-site, clothes everywhere, can never find anything let alone remember where she left something. Very much the opposite in fact.

On-time: Mostly, but as with any child her timekeeping is usually handled by the parent. I suppose I will have to watch this space on this one.

Know-it-all: She very much likes to think so, but she isn’t afraid of asking. She will argue her point, especially if she knows she is right. Like Mother like Daughter!

Bossy: Yes Very. A mini-me in this respect. Occasionally she will over step the mark with her siblings. But she does like a good boss-about.

Responsible: She likes to think she is, and when given the confidence is showing good signs that she can be.

On to Middle child – Girl two

Flexible: Mostly yes. Although routine has always played a big part of her life, as she is getting older change doesn’t faze her, and usually as long as she sees that the end result is the same, she isn’t overly bothered.

Easy-going: Yes she is very easy-going. She doesn’t look for arguments, and is a delight to spend one-on-one time with, but she can be demanding when the need calls for it.

Social: Extremely, especially with people she is comfortable and confident with.

Peacemaker: To date she is showing no signs of being a “peacemaker”. Unless you want to turn it on its head and use the phrase “walk-over” in which case I would say that she can be a walk-over, particularly when she is the less dominant child in the room.

Independent: A close relative recently defined Girl two as “having the perfect only-child personality” By this they meant that she is more than happy to go and play on her own, she doesn’t require her siblings to entertain her. Yes, independent she is.

Secretive: Oh my goodness, She is a child of such subtle cunning, you have to see it to believe it. She is such a good little liar, actress, and sneak that I have to stop myself from smiling a lot when telling her off. Her slight of hand is AMAZING!

May feel life in unfair: I am sure if you asked her this, she would say that it is unfair, and then probably perform the worlds best sulk to prove it.

Finally, Last child – The boy

Risk-taker: He knows no fear. He is the boy who will jump feet first into the swimming pool without any armbands on and give Mummy a heart-attack in the process. He is the boy who will try every type of new food put in front of him without asking what it is. This is the boy who will jump off anything. Why? Because he can. Because he wants to be Superman and fly.

Outgoing: At first he isn’t. Put him in a new environment with new people and although he is comfortable and confident, he is not what I would call “outgoing. For example he recently had his first settling in session at his new preschool, he went in and focused on the toy cars and trains. He was more than comfortable playing on his own with these. He didn’t immediately hunt out someone to play with. When other children came over the join in with his game, he was more than happy to make friends. He seems to be more silently confident than outgoing.

Creative: When he goes off on his own with his many toy cars, planes, trains, action figures I love listening to him. His imagination is simply wonderful to witness.

Self-centred: He is mostly a very caring and loving little chap, however he does have a streak of self-importance about him. This comes out occasionally but not all that often.

Financially irresponsible: Not relevant in this child – He is not yet 3 years old. Time will tell, but I sincerely hope he isn’t.

Competitive: This should be his middle name. Everything is a race or competition. Who is going to be first up the stairs? Who will finish breakfast first? Who will get dressed the quickest? It drives me absolutely insanely nuts! I am always the referee!

Bored easily: Like any child he is capable of having a short attention span. However, he attends football matches and manages to stay focused on those (which is more than you can say for me!).

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What’s my conclusion of my children and whether or not their personalities match up to the picture. If I am honest I don’t really have one I suppose. Not at this stage of their lives. I feel it unfair to base their entire temperament, personality and outlook of life on their ranking of birth. I am sure that many people could turn it around and say that Girl one is bossy because she is the eldest, but I can assure you that the other two are equally as bossy.

Each child is different. Each child has their own sparkle. Each child has it faults. And each child brings something different to our family, whether is it stubbornness, kindness or competitiveness. By bringing them up in the same way and loving them same, they will grow and develop in their own way. And I will continue to love them regardless of where their “ranking” is in the family.

 

 

Boys Vs Girls

It is only recently that I have started to notice a real difference in energy levels between girls and boys. It’s ridiculous that it’s taken me this long. Maybe it’s only now that the “baby years” are now well and truly behind me that I can make a conscious observation.

My son, G, is two and half and a complete bundle of combustible energy, and endless enthusiasm. He simply cannot sit still, unless he is on the potty or asleep! Long gone are the days when he would have a loooooong nap midday. He doesn’t need to recharge his batteries anymore.

I recently commented on my observation during a catch up with a very good friend and fellow SAHM, Trim (her nickname). I was moaning,  there is no other word for it, I was moaning about G and his boundless energy, his need for speed, his need to be in front and faster than everyone else around him. I compared him to a naughty disobedient puppy when using his reins. Trim just nodded and said she knew exactly what I meant and remembers only too well how her son was at that age.

Trim has a daughter who is four months younger than G, and they get on brilliantly. In actual fact when they sit together you could be forgiven for thinking they were twins, they look so alike.

Anyway, we began discussing the differences between girls and boys. I mean, I suppose it’s obvious when you think about it. But only ever having girls meant that I had no fore-warning of just how exhausting a little boy could actually be. I should in theory be a size 8 with all the running around I do, but those damn yummy foods keep finding their way into my mouth! I’m sure I comfort eat to congratulate myself on surviving another day with my kids!

Examples:

Going for a walk with a little boy: It’s physically demanding. You spend a vast majority of the walk almost jogging to keep up with them. Forever apologising to people who have they hurtled into as they are going to damn fast. They’re not interested in browsing through shop windows – unless it’s a food shop and there may be a possibility of getting fed. They will jump in EVERY puddle, regardless of size and what footwear they have on and you can’t stop them, they’re too fast. If you run after them, they run faster and laugh while they’re doing it! They will kick at anything which is on the floor (stone/a leaf/a bit of rubbish, etc) and shout “GOAL”. I’m assuming of course that all little boys are like this, and it’s not just mine!

Going for a walk with a little girl: It’s mentally draining. Girls will happily walk, or skip, along side you holding your hand. They will embrace the window shopping. Although they too love puddle jumping, they know that unless they have their wellies on, their shoes will get ruined. They will occasionally run ahead, but they will not do it at full speed and they will not pretend to be a rocket/motorbike/car/lorry/train/tank with the obligatory sound effects. They will however talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good chat. But sometimes they enjoy talking about people who are within earshot, quite loudly! This is most of the time all fine, until some poor unsuspecting sole becomes subjected to a four year olds scrutiny. Everything comes under question; their dress-sense, their hair colour, their choice of bag/shoes/coat. It can be very draining, and sometimes embarrassing.

At home:

With a little boy: oh lordy where do I start. I’ll start with the fact the they do not sit still, unless it is on the potty/toilet or sleeping. They will run around pretending to be “Superman” and rescuing you – this involves running up behind you, usually when you’re in the kitchen cooking dinner and wrapping their arms around your legs shouting “saved you”. They will run up and down the lounge/kitchen/hallway, wherever they happen to be, racing with themselves – slapping the wall and turn around to race back again. I found this lovely to watch at first, but now it just tires me out. They will run up and down the stairs as fast as they can, giving you a mini-heart attack every-time. They will fling themselves over the back of the sofa, headfirst, and find it highly amusing when you try to stop them repeating it, this making them want to keep doing it. Quite simply; THEY DO NOT SIT STILL!

With a little girl: Girls will sit quietly playing with their toys in the corner of the bedroom, tucked behind a chair, under a table. It will be a make believe game and usually involves some kind of doll/Barbie/soft toy. BEWARE: if they are too quiet, it may be worth investigating! My make up drawer was recently been tampered with….! They will cuddle up with you on the sofa, to watch a bit of telly which is absolutely lovely. However, sometimes this is not as straight forward as it sounds. “Mummy, can you tickle my feet?” “Mummy, can you play with my hair?” “Mummy, can you plait Barbie’s hair?” They will come into the kitchen to watch you cooking and ask to help. Please don’t get me wrong with this, but my kitchen is a galley-style kitchen (quite narrow and long) and sometimes having a child asking to help/watch is not what I need when doing dinner. Generally girls do not run around being noisy and boisterous.

So is the difference in the sexes something they are born with. Is it in their DNA to be completely different? Or do we condition them, subconsciously from birth to act and play in a certain manner? I guess it’s the age old argument of dressing girls in pink and boys in boy. If we didn’t do it, would they grow to like those colours naturally? Blue is a masculine colour, whereas pink is girly and “not for boys”.

In the end Trim and I agreed that we should swap children for a day, so that we can each have a break from our own child and embrace a day with a child of the opposite sex. Whether we will actually do this, remains to be seen. But it would be interesting.

Hello stranger…

It’s been a while since I posted anything. What can I say it’s been a whirlwind in our house in the last few months. My day to day life seems to have gotten so busy, finding the time and sometimes having the energy to have a shower is a miracle, let alone to sit down and write anything.

Christmas has well and truly been packed away. The tree went back in its falling-to-bits box (We don’t have a real one – maybe one day); the fairy lights put away all nice, tidy and not tangled up although, I am sure the un-Christmas fairy gets top marks for sneaking in during the year and undoing all my good work, tying them in complete knots and therefore putting me in a foul mood when that time of year comes around again; the left over wrapping paper has been put away ready to re-use for next time, but I can never remember where I put it so somewhere in my house I have at least three years worth of Christmas wrapping paper; the Christmas chocolates has nearly all been eaten; credit card bill has been received; the mountain of rubbish bags have been collected; the Christmas booze has been drunk, nearly.

We are now on day one of the second week back at school/work. The first week was a long one. Hearing that alarm clock go off on the Monday morning was quite possibly the worst noise in the entire world. My muddled and groggy brain simply could not function. I was convinced that I had got the days mixed up. Unfortunately it was when the Husband stomped into the bedroom, dripping from his shower and spraying his deodorant, that I realised just how wrong I was. It was 5.35am and time to get up, throw on some frankly disturbing clothes – good job it’s dark – and drive Husband to catch his 6.03 train.
Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee the voices in my head were hollering. I would need it by the bucketful today!

I usually creep around to get myself dressed once I am back to avoid waking up the rugrats. You simply do not realise just how noisy you can be when putting on foundation and eyeliner! There is nothing worse than trying to make myself resemble anything other than human when there are 3 children; grumpy, hungry, ratty, loud, arguing, demanding, whining, zombie-like children around. That was not the case on this morning however. After two weeks of not having to get up early and going to bed a bit-too-late, they were well and truly still on school christmas holiday mode. They were not getting up. No sooner had I pulled the various duvets from them and turned around, they had pulled it back again. Oh lordy it was a struggle.
I begged, played along, moaned, shouted, bribed, tickled, I did everything, short of dragging them by their hair, they were NOT getting up. In the end it was the (empty) threat of all their new Christmas toys being put in the bin that got them out of bed.

I can only assume that every parent had the same struggle I encountered on that first school morning of 2014.

But….on this, the second school week of the year, you would not think that I had the same 3 children in my house. All 3 were up and causing havoc just after 6am today.

33 Years old!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!   (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well today is the birthday of yours truly….I am 33 years old today! Eek…..

Firstly I want to say a BIG thank you to the Husband for my gorgeous present. You’ve done well this year. Well done for listening. xx

Well done to my Mum, who has been a Mum for 33 years!! I bet that makes you feel old! ha ha ha Love you Mum bundles xx

So what does one do on their birthday when they begin creeping towards their mid-thirties. What does one do on  their birthday when you have three children, no babysitter, and the Husband (who DIDN’T take the day off work) who won’t walk in the front door until nearly 8 O’clock tonight?

I did all my partying in my twenties. Spending hours getting ready, choosing the “perfect” outfit, shoes, handbag, doing hair and make-up, sorting out who’s meeting who and where, Pub crawls, rounds of drinks, tottering in too-high shoes into the nightclub, knocking back the shots, visiting the loos to preen and primp, playing “pull-a-pig”, flirting with a member of the opposite sex to obtain a free drink, more shots, taking off the too-high shoes, falling out of the nightclub, taking possession of a burger/kebab/chips, trying to hail a taxi, usually ended up walking home minus the shoes (which are now tucked under my arm), and throwing myself on the bed, sometimes still fully dressed. No, the thought of getting drunk now and suffering a hang-over (especially with children around) DOES NOT appeal to me one iota. I would much rather watch someone else younger and/or more stupid than me suffer instead.

Suddenly I feel “old” is this normal? I would much rather go to the local pub and have drinks there with the Husband and a few friends, pop into the local Indian and then come home NOT DRUNK.

Currently on my birthday, I have done the school run, been grocery (!) shopping at the local Co-op, put some washing on, cleaned the kitchen, emptied the dishwasher, painted a dolls china tea-set with T, finished and published a post on my blog, had three very LARGE cups of coffee, spoken to various members of my family, replied to birthday text messages. Very Rock n Roll!

And tonight…well lets see what happens.

However, I am content with it. I have done my partying days (thank goodness! If I had to do them again, I think it would kill me!) and I have safely stored them away. (Disclaimer: They can be taken out at will and dusted off as and when the need/want arises.)

Crikey I do sound old don’t I?

You’re selling your wives Jimmy Choos WITHOUT her knowledge…oh you’ve got a death wish!! (*)

Ask any female, regardless of age, and they will tell you that the most magical and memorable part of the Cinderella story was the glass slipper. It symbolises delicate, dainty feet, ultimate girlie-ness. It simply is/was the most important part of Cinderella’s outfit. Yes the dress was stunning, but lets face it, at midnight it turned back into rags. The slipper, however stayed.

For me, when I married The Husband, I spent hours and hours looking for the right pair of shoes. They had to be perfect. They had be glamorous, beautiful, one-off, sexy, high-heeled, comfortable, walkable, the right height, sound right when I walked, the right colour, the right sparkles, I could go on and on. I wanted to have a pair of shoes which ultimately were perfect for me. (In fact I will admit to actually buying more than one pair of shoes before deciding on my  wedding shoes – Sorry Husband. *sheepish grin*).

I will admit, I am a bit of shoe fiend. I can be bought, bribed, convinced, made to go anywhere, made to do anything for the right pair of shoes. They bring me out of a bad mood. They turn me into someone powerful and confident. They make me walk taller, smile more, and laugh louder. I will change a complete outfit just for shoes. I have in the past just sat and looked at a newly purchased pair of shoes. I just love shoes.

My wedding shoes have been kept in the box they arrived in, wrapped in the white tissue paper. This box is inside a hand-sewn silk drawstring bag specifically purchased  (thank you Mum! xx)  for the purpose of keeping my wedding shoes in pristine condition. They have been there for the last four years. They have been taken out of the box no more than five times since my wedding day, each and every time is for my eldest daughter “L” to look at them and ask the same question, “Can I have them when I’m older?” . My reply is always the same……”yes”. And she smiles the biggest smile and hugs me. (I think I may have created another shoe fiend!).

But isn’t this the best part of being a woman and a bride. Yes, I realise the dress is also a huge factor, but not to me. Once the wedding is over, the dress goes into storage, hangs in a wardrobe, goes on display, gets put somewhere, anywhere. Mine is in storage at the top of the wardrobe. I cannot get to it without the Husband helping me. This is where the shoes beat the dress hands down (or feet down!)……I CAN get to my shoes (if I wanted to) and prance around the house feeling like a princess; I could do the hovering, washing up, I could sit on the sofa just looking at them, I could type a blog with them on – I’m not by the way – I could do a number of things in my wedding shoes and no one would know. Because I could repack them, rewrap them and stash them back away before anyone could realise. That is why they are better than a dress.

My wedding shoes were MY choice, completely 100% all mine. NO ONE had any input in the decision making process – well apart from the Husband. I was not allowed a pair of Jimmy Choo wedding platforms. I campaigned and nagged relentlessly. But that was the one stipulation the Husband had; I was NOT to spent £300 plus on a pair of shoes I would wear once. He did not care how comfortable they were, how beautiful they were, that no one else would have them, that they would one day be passed down to L who would in turn cherish them as I would, or that they would go with my dress perfectly. NO. NO JIMMY CHOO SHOES, ABSOLUTELY NOT, NO.

So I never got my Jimmy Choo wedding shoes, but that’s ok, I loved and still love the shoes I wore to got married in. I will probably love them forever, and will as promised, pass them to my eldest daughter when the time is right and she can appreciate them and love – as I know she will.

So imagine my absolute horror when the Husband came home from work one evening this week and began regaling me with a story of how one of his work colleagues – I will call this person TOM – had been talking about selling his wives (she will be called BARBARA)  wedding shoes, WITHOUT HER KNOWLEDGE! Of course this was enough to make my jaw hit the floor, but the Husband continued his story….her wedding shoes were JIMMY CHOO!!! Well at this point the Husband had to pick me up from the floor.

Yes you read that correctly. TOM wanted to sell BARBARA’s Jimmy Choo wedding shoes WITHOUT her permission!!!!!!!!!!!!

Have you recovered? Have you stopped feeling faint? Well done, it took me a bit longer to recover from that shocking revelation.

Forgive me, but everyone surely MUST agree that this is an act which is just wrong. In every way, shape and form, WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

Maybe I’m in a minority, but I know if the Husband dared to even consider doing this to ANYTHING of mine wedding related, he would be in the dog house for an immensely looooooong time. If he dared actually sell anything of mine wedding related without me knowing….well we probably wouldn’t be married for much longer!

Call me materialistic if you like, and yes when it comes to shoes I will hold my hands up and admit it.

But please for the love of all things beautiful and magical and Cinderella-ish, and girly….TOM please DON’T sell BARBARA’s Jimmy Choo wedding shoes.

(*) this post is dedicated to Mr B (TOM) and his lovely misses (BARBARA).  With love and genuine concern for those J.C shoes. xx