Friday, 20 July 2012

Dreaming of Running

Channel 4, the official broadcasters of the 2012 Paraolympic Games, are running an advert at the moment.  It asks three gentleman, all in wheelchairs what they dream about.  One says he always walks again in his dream.  I think the other says he never dreams of walking.  The third laughs and says he doesn't know what they are dreaming about but in his dream he is just surrounded by wonderful women and doesn't take any notice if he can walk or not.

This really made me smile.  Then it made me think.  I have been doing that a lot lately.  I have been in that sort of philosophical mood, which doesn't always make me seem very happy.  But it isn't that I am not happy.  It just means that I am thinking.  About everything.  About nothing.  About stuff.  Sometimes my mind just needs to do that.  Maybe that is the writer in me.

It made me wonder about what J1 dreams about.  I can ask J2 and he always answers the same thing - 'Lion ROOOOOAAAARRRRRR'.  If that is true it may account for his truly erratic sleep behaviour!  But whenever I ask J1 he pauses, says 'Errrrrrrrr', pauses again and then sets to his default question -'Where is Daddy's car?'  This means you are not going to get an answer to your question.

So I am left wondering.  I am left wondering if he dreams of walking and running.  Does he dream of running around the playground, or competing able bodied in sports day?  Does he bounce on the trampoline until he feels sick and sweaty?  Does he run along the sea front running up and down the steps to the beach until we tell him not to do it anymore?  Does he run up the steps to the cafe to buy his ice-cream? 

I have a recurring dream.  Not everyday but always the same.  J1 walks into my bedroom and asks if he can wear his football shirt for school.  As wonderful as that is, when I wake up I get the crashing reality of life.  And that is painful.  Like when people say after they have lost someone, for that first few seconds of the day when you wake up, everything is perfect.  Then your memory comes to life and reminds you of days and events past. 

No matter how many years fly by, and how much I come to terms with / adapt to life as we now know it, the actual reality of knowing my son has brain damage is still a bastard.  It makes my heart ache with the longing to be able to change it.  It must be the biggest frustration in life that you will ever encounter - someone you love suffering with something, be it a condition or illness, and no matter what you do to help, aid, alleviate you know that you can't change it or stop it.

Maybe that explains my overwhelming need to keep in control of all other aspects of my life and my complete annoyance when I feel that is not the case.  My developing attitude that you must absolutely do what you want to do, if it is something that you have any control over being able to achieve.  Some people call that positive thinking.  I call it trying to make up for what I can't change or control.  A defiance that fate won't fox me into thinking I 'can't' control what happens.

Can someone that has never walked a single step dream what it is like to do so?  I like to think so - after all I dream of flying and I certainly can't do that. 

So, run little boy.  Run and laugh.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Published in SEN Magazine

The article I wrote for SEN Magazine was published this month.  It was thrilling to see my name in print!

If you would like to read my article, the magazine just released it online.   It can be viewed here (even though they say 'daughters' diagnosis and it should be son in the link - it is correct in the magazine and online article) :

Saturday, 14 July 2012

Special Saturday : The Special Needs Part of Our Life

This weeks #Special Saturday theme is to just generally sum up what is going on in your own world this week.  This is a good time to think about this because it is the last week of J1's school year.  Just yesterday we went on a fantastic school trip to Colchester Zoo.

Colchester Zoo is very accessible for those with wheelchairs apart from a very few areas, which do have large, steep gradient hills to get up and down.  However because there was a lot of volunteers we managed to overcome these.  I would like to think about getting an annual pass for the Zoo next year, when J2 is three.  Therefore I think that we are going to have to have a meeting with our wheelchair clinic about the possibility of getting some sort of motorised help for the chair. 

This will also help with another problem we are now facing.  Although  we are extremely lucky to live by the sea, you can only access the lower sea promenade by significant hills.  I am no longer able to get J1 up and down these on my own.  To be honest even if both my mum and I push we struggle.  This is very frustrating for all concerned, especially with the Summer Holidays imminent.

I am very much hoping that we do not have obstacles put in our way when we make this request.  J1 has recently been weighed and measured (height) and he is on a par with an 11 year old.  J1 is actually eight.  Not being a particularly big person myself, it is hard to accept that I am unable to even take my son for a walk and ice cream along the sea wall by which we live.

As I mentioned, it is the end of the school year for J1.  It has been a very different year for him as he went into a new class.  We were worried about how he would cope.  However, after only a short few weeks he had settled in well.  The class has been good for J1 in a lot of ways.  It has really helped his character to build.  He is developing his own sense of humour and is no longer so timid of other mobile children his age.  Up to this point he would meltdown if another child his age even said 'Hello'.

J1 does require a vast quantity of physiotherapy everyday however and there has been a few issues regarding this throughout the year.  I think it is always something that I am going to have to keep a very close on eye and reiterate constantly to all those involved with his care.  J1 can not move his own limbs with any real control.  Thus we have to ensure that we do this for him.  Can you imagine being set in one position for any length of time.  Think about how many times you shift position on the sofa, or in the car or in bed.  Remember that discomfort you feel if you wake up after a long sleep and go to stretch your leg?  That is a constant threat for J1, moreso because of the metal plates he has in his hips.

Another challenge we are now starting for face as J1 is getting older is his awareness.  This is not a bad thing by any means, it means his comprehension abilities are developing which is fantastic.  But, the negative side to this is he is also becoming aware of all the things he can not do.  He no longer wants to walk to the park with his brother.  He doesn't want to go out in the garden when the other children play on the trampoline.  He doesn't want to sit and have a drink with mummy in the local indoor play area while all the other children run around screaming and having fun.  He doesn't want to sit and have an ice cream while everyone else goes on the rides at the pier.  Who can blame him?

Luckily we have found a brilliant centre, quite local, that has some sensory rooms that he can enjoy.  This is great for rainy days (and there are plenty of those at the moment).  But other little activities that up to last year we could just about do (a few rides on the pier, getting him in the small gap on the trampoline) are no longer a viable option.

Therefore, it's time to spend this week thinking outside of the box and doing some research for fun things we can do over the six weeks break.  We have got a 'wheelchair bike' demo in August, with the hope that we will be able to obtain one soon.  J1 keeps asking to go for a bike ride, and absolutely adored it when we hired one on our recent trip.  Hearing him giggle uncontrollably, like other children do in the park or on the rides or on the trampoline - priceless.

I am also looking into the possibility of getting a wheelchair swing for the garden.  He thoroughly enjoys the one at school and would love to be able to take him in the garden to join in, every single day that we possibly can.  He deserves that.

In summary a lot of development is happening in our Special Needs part of life.  We have lots of calls to make, research to do and options to look at as everyday our wonderful little boy 'Grows Up'.

Join in Special Saturday by linking up on Facebook, Tweeting using the #Special Saturday, writing posts / note / odes.  Anything you want to do to help raise awareness of living with Special Needs and how amazing, challenging and rewarding it is.

Monday, 9 July 2012

Facing Fears : The High Wire Challenge

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was giving some consideration to running another Marathon.  Having the experience of running the London Marathon in 2006, I believe that as well as physical training and stamina building I would have benefited greatly from also doing some Mental Stamina exercises.

Therefore I noted that I wanted to start to try to do things that I would normally be 'too scared' to do.  The first thing I mentioned I might do, to kickstart the 'Face My Fears' campaign was to book myself onto the Aerial (High Wire) challenge whilst on holiday this year.

So on the (very wet) morning of Wednesday 4 July that is exactly what I did.  Sporting a rather fetching bright orange helmet and some bad frizzy swimming pool hair I donned the safety harness and took the steps to the first part of the Aerial Adventure.

I must say now, the photographs do not really give justice to the height of the course.  It feels higher than it looks to the naked eye from the side line.  When dealing with something regarding heights people say 'Don't look down' but with this there is no option. 

After the first challenge of walking a balance beam style implement,  I clung on to the next tree I came too for so long that the instructor came over and asked me if I was stuck.  Physically no.  Mentally yes.

Me : Tree Hugging

This was the point.  This was the reason I had decided to do the whole entire experience in the first place.  To be feeling that emotion of undulating fear.  To get to that point where all I wanted was to say 'I'm not a celebrity but get me out of here anyway!'

Clinging to that wet tree I looked at the sodden, slippery tyres that awaited my feet to be placed on them.  The instructor advised me to place my weight forward on them, as that was the best way to control the movement. 

I told myself it was all in the mind.  Like the fatigue when you think you can not run anymore, yet you find yourself a mile along and you are still going.  I told myself to think that I was only a foot off of the ground, it would still be wobbling the same.  I was perfectly safe and harnessed on.  I was going to finish the course. 

I made my decision I stepped off ...

Tyre Troubles

Breathing a sigh of relief, I reached the next tree I found myself at the first of the zip-wire.  Now this I had actually been looking forward to.  Since my days of watching 'The Assault Course' on the Krypton Factor I had wanted a go on a zip-wire.  It was awesome.  Even though I did have to swing myself several times at the end to get onto the landing platform because it was so slippery. 

Once I had surpassed that moment prior to the tyres; where I looked at my fear, looked at the steps down to safety and ignored them, although I wasn't exactly thrilled at each challenge I completed it.  The hardest part, probably traversing the climbing wall as the ridiculously small hand / foot holds were so slippery.

Yep, that black X is me...

  Before I knew it (actually that is a lie, I was counting down the challenges to the end) I was back at the starting platform.  I had achieved what I set out to do.  Could I have done a higher challenge?  Certainly.  But achieving what I did with my fear of heights was a pretty big feat.  Did I enjoy it?  Not particularly.  Am I pleased I did it? Abso - bloody - lutely. 

Relief at the finishing point

Friday, 6 July 2012

Favourite Posts of the Last 12 Months - No.1

So, what was my Number One pick?

The One Where It All Started Of Course...

From August 18 2011 - my first ever blog post :

A Blog Is Born :

I had coffee - yes an actual sit down with hot liquid for half an hour - l.u.x.u.r.y - with a friend that I haven't seen for a while a few weeks ago.  In the midst of catching up she told me that although we hadn't been in touch for some time had been watching me from afar. What she said next made me waste - a rather overpriced I must say - mouthful of caffeine, when I spat it out in shock mixed with laughing.
She said that she didn't know how I did it.

"Do what?" I asked a little perplexed.

She replied "Make it look so effortless.  You're always upbeat and energetic.  Out and about with the children.  Been here and there.  Done this and that.  You keep your weight down, look well turned out - it's actually really annoying."  I sat taken aback for sometime.  Thinking about what she said, and cleaning up the coffee, I decided to shattered the clear illusion she had of my life.

I explained that the day starts at about 5am when my eldest little cherub decides that it is time to be wide awake.  After the first round of changing and Peppa Pig I make very strong filter coffee to kick start the day.  Then I try and get any tidying up done before Cherub No. 2 opens his eyes and starts his wake of destruction (I am hoping it is an 18 month old thing).

Next, breakfast (or any snack / drink / meal) is made with a screaming toddler attached to my leg.  You learn to persevere and get it done anyway. I then have about 10 minutes of 'quiet' whilst the aforementioned snack / drink / meal is devoured.  Then it's time for 'Entertainment Committee' i.e. 'me' to be back on call again. If I attempt to wash up, again, it is done with ones screaming toddler attached to my leg.

A day when we get out is a luxury.  Otherwise it consists of 18 hours of chasing around after a very energetic and stubborn toddler.  Whilst, trying to clear up - which to be honest in the school holidays is like trying to put out a forest fire with a water pistol - and answering the same question (question of the week we like to call it) repeatedly with my eldest.

Now personal appearance.  Well, I have had 18 months to perfect the '30 seconds allowed to wash and dress' rule.  Once you master it, it's pretty simple. Staple items such as jeans, vests and flip flops you can't go wrong with.  I have long hair.  Every single day gets scraped up into a messy knot - no time for brushing it, let along washing it.  Luckily this seems to be passing for 'trendy' this season. 

As for the weight, my buttocks don't grace a seat from 5am - 8pm so that has probably got that issue sorted out.

"Well," she said chuckling "You're a bit like a duck aren't you.  Gliding along, breeze gently ruffling your feathers to the outside world, but underneath you are busy paddling like a crazy person."   I told her she should see the sweating mess that passes for me after chasing the youngest around my house trying to dress him in the mornings.

After we laughed and I left for my apparent perfect existence that never was, I thought that I might try and start documenting life as I know it.  The children when they are older will have a 'novel of childhood' to remember and perhaps see it from my eyes, which you can never do until you have children of your own.

And so - Lynsey The Mother Duck - was born.

Thursday, 5 July 2012

Favourite Posts of the Last 12 Months - No.2

From August 2011 Archives

The Great British Day Out!

The month is August, J1 is on school holidays and it's time for those lovely summer days out. But this is Britain, and what does that mean? You have a day out arranged or an event to go to then be prepare to get...S.O.A.K.E.D!

Yes, many a day trip out to the seaside was had in my childhood.  The photographs are generally of us sitting huddled as close as our deckchairs would allow, beach towels wrapped tightly round our shoulders, hair all blown wildly in a left or right direction, squinting at the camera as the sand whipped in our eyes. Those are the memories and they are happy, nostalgic ones.

Hence why I insist on inflicting the same memory building experiences on to my own children! The plan usually goes something like this; I write on the calendar that we are having a lovely family day out.  Prior to the day out I go and buy all the food for the picnic and then dutifully make the picnic lunch and pack it all up in picnic bag with heavy but essential cool packs. Get the children dressed in as matching outfits as I can find (yes I am a matching dresser mother and for this I do not apologise).  Pack essentials for heatwave and monsoon.

The drive to the venue usually lavishes you with sunshine. It buoys your spirits and assists the car singing to reach new decibels.  But then as the venue approaches generally the clouds start to gather... all sounding familiar? By the time parking has occurred a few spots of rain usually make an appearance causing the 'do we need wet stuff?' debate to reach a swift conclusion of 'Aye'.

However once in the queue to enter wherever you attempted to ascend for the day, the sun is back out.  The kids moan they are hot and you start sweating out profusely in your wet coat, causing the first strip [of many] of the day to happen. At some point later in the day I end up thinking 'Oh my god, are we burning?' and chase everyone (including hubby) around trying to smother them in sunscreen.  I love it, the smell always evokes so many holidays memories, I don't understand why they are all itching to be caked in it.

Sometimes we have been lucky and only the threat of a soaking ever comes to fruition. However, more often than not in the true sense of a bad British comedy, you end up getting ... drenched.  The rain comes so suddenly and so hard and fast that you haven't had time to prepare.  You look to the sky, look at the 5 bags of wet covers, coats, umbrella's and in the end just have to leg it.

But, of course, the shelters are already all full.  People look at you with a mixture of pity and smugness as every bit of rain from the sky seems to hit you and your brood. After just a few seconds you and 90% of the population of wherever you are come to the same inevitable conclusion :

This is Britain. We are British. We get wet and are proud!

With noses pushed into the air, we continue our day out like it's dry and sunny. We carry on our conversations with water dripping off of our eyelashes. We secretly think, 'That buggies going to take ages to dry and the car is going to smell like wet dog by the time we get home' but we don't let on. We laugh (the heavier the rain the louder the laughter I find) and we say 'Well that's a typical British Summer Day Out!' and bank it in our store of happy memories.

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

Favourite Posts of the Last 12 Months - No.3

From October 2011 Archives

Remember Remember...

My Dear Friend, Mrs B-R,

Sometime ago you asked me to remind you of something. You said, 'Make me remember, make me remember!'

So, here goes.

Remember remember, no not the fifth of November (although I will because I was waiting to go down to theatre to deliver J1 and could hear but not see all the fireworks going off...) but .... the blood, sweat and tears of... looking after a toddler!

Yes, Dear Mrs B-R, you are broody, just as your own little cherubs have hit that (well the youngest) glorious age of 3, when it all seems to get just that little bit easier. Yes, you have once again come to that 3 year itch and are thinking about scratching it. So when my visit with my own little red-headed fire-starter still didn't put you off (he was being VERY good, not a normal occurrence to be honest) you said, you must remind me how hard it is.

So, for your benefit, or for anyone who has the '3 year itch' that occurs with the cycle of children (I think it tends to be 3 years or 5 years, when they have gone to nursery or school) here is my brutal version of the reality of toddler-hood (yes the female mind has a habit of blocking all of this out when one gets broody, like the pain of the birth) :

1. Unless you are lucky, prepare yourself for at least three years of NO sleep. Or worse than NO sleep, broken sleep. Waiting for bottles to warm at 3am that seem to take forever, or getting them to latch on in the wee hours can make you want to scream because all you want to do is snug your head into that lovely warm squishy pillow. Or if Iike me you tolerated that part well because, you were prepared for it, the tolerance lessens when two years later you are still getting up to top up cups and change soaking nappies, beds etc.

2. Also remember when going to the bathroom was accompanied by a little person trying to climb into the toilet? Whilst pulling out the toilet brush and flicking the water everywhere and running away with the toilet roll (NO my holder does NOT attach to the wall).  Pulling out all of the toiletries, even when you think you have found a cupboard they can not get into, which results in everything being put up loose on any available high surface thus creating :

3. Bombsite. Your house. All the time. Remember when J2 came round and systematically destroyed every room? The pot pourri came off the side all over the floor.  The remote controls became a battle ground (and I am pretty sure he did something drastic to the SKY box).  Mango was transferred from bowl to the lovely rug... the wooden box got sat on and broken (oh no, sorry that was my husband not child...).

4. Carseats. Prams / Buggies. Highchairs. Plastic bowls and cutlery. Sippy cups (non spill, yeah right they find a way) have to be taken even on half hour visits to see people.  Or in actual fact, just generally when you go anywhere. Then you normally end up spending more time getting ready to go out than at the actual location because of :

5. Toddler tantrums.  Although these do still attack at the three year old stage, they generally have calmed down a little and don't happen everytime you attempt to go out in public. Supermarket, coffee shop, in fact anywhere enclosed where you can practically be marched out by the venomous stares of all other patrons, daggers, stabbing pain in back, whilst dropping all equipment mentioned in point number four...stuttering 'Ohhh does someone need a little sleep?'

6. Personal Hygiene, do not expect to have any for at least two years.  You will be lucky to get a 30 second shower let alone apply deodorant, perfume, body lotion, shave your legs (well shave anything actually), wash your hair or apply make up (or pick out anything that matches clothes wise) which moves us nicely onto ...

7. All clothes will look like screwed up dish rags, for the whole family, because you no longer have the opportunity to iron.  Remeber it's too dangerous to even look at the ironing with toddler attached to your leg (probably screaming because you dare to have taken attention off of them for one solitary second).

8. Remember all those lovely soggy, unidentifiable objects you were forced to eat because your toddler lovingly brought them to you to feed you? Yep, you'll have to do that.  All- over - again.

9. Oven food or cereal it's all you will have time for, I'm sure you'll go back to loving it. Some of it's lovely, honest...

10. What you are wearing now will be what you are wearing for many years.  You will not get over the feeling that the baby needs something more than you because they grow so quickly and have a way of destroying clothing that even army recruits would marvel at.

So, Dear Mrs B-R, I hope that this little reminder has served it's purpose.  But please remember you asked, no practically begged me to do it. Also it'll make my hubby and anyone with a current toddler laugh, unless they have one of the (whispers) 'angel types'.

You and I don't get those types (J2 and Little A, made of the same cloth), whoever dished out characters in children must have looked at us and said 'they are strong enough for a challenge'.

Now, for this information to really take effect you must not do the following things :

1. Think back to how a new baby smells and the fact that they sleep for about 16 hours a day until they are 3 months.

2. Picture what all the little baby grows, newborn vests and booties looked like hanging out on the line.

3. How a baby moving in your tummy feels and how lovely it is getting lots of extra attention for 9 months.

4. How in the evening when you are giving your kids a cuddle goodnight they snuggle in and look at you and their eyes say 'I am Safe'.

5. And definitely do not go and look at your children sleeping soundly and beautifully in their beds... I said don't do it... you went and did it didn't you?  Then I can't help you, that'll win every time...

I think I may have stamped on the point of this blog post with the last 5 items? Oh well, you go through it all again and then you will be able to provide me with blog fodder when my little man has turned into grown up (3+) child. 

Why don't I have another you ask? Oh no no, I am still in the midst of 1-10 thank you very much, no more for me!

And just one more thing, for anyone who thinks I may have been complaining about life with a toddler please read 'Just for the Record'

Best Wishes

Lynsey, The Mother Duck

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

Favourite Posts of the Last 12 Months : No.4

From November 2011 Archives

Wow - I Forgot We Took These!

Having just located the hard drive (thingy) that holds all of our photos I have been happily grazing through lots of pictures that I forgot we had. In 2009 Hubby and I took a Winter trip to Egypt for some winter sun and we booked ourselves onto a 'Star Gazing' excursion in the Sinai Desert. After being disappointed with the first half of the trip the Star Gazing certainly made up for it, but I forgot we got these awesome photographs of the moon through a very powerful telescope they had set up. These are some of my favourite photos ever taken.

Monday, 2 July 2012

Favourite Posts of the Last 12 Months : No.5...

From November 2011 Archives...

Me... In the Alternative Universe

I am sure that everyone has a version of themselves in their head that they think they would be if they were ever transported back to when they were young, single and child-free. I do, I like to call it 'Me, in the Alternate Universe'.

Don't get me wrong, I don't wish to ever be young, single and child-free again.  No thank you very much.  But I like to think that if I went back and knew what I knew now - in my 30's -

I would be a lot more savvy more appreciative of certain things.  Things that as a wife and a mother we very often give up.

Now again don't get me wrong I haven't sat down and written a list of 'things to give up' now I am a wife and mother.  But there are some things that I can no longer legitimately put at the top of my priority list.  They have to fall by the wayside. Some of those things (e.g. drinking and partying) I have been happy to say goodbye to, most certainly day long hangovers.

But some of them I hold onto in my 'Me, in the Alternate Universe'.  I hold onto them in the hopes that one day, when the kids are a little older and I get time to appreciate my husband once again I will also have time to appreciate me and the things I loved.

There are a wide and vast array of things - the things that I appreciate having or having time to do in my alternate universe - so here are just a few...

In my Alternate Universe I do work, but at my original job at the local university. I so did not appreciate the extra time I had when I worked a mere 10 minute drive from home.  They also ran a scheme whereby they would allow you a set number of 'work hours' to go and do volunteering. This was an amazing missed opportunity by me and in my Alternate Universe I definitely take this up.

Working locally would mean that I would have the time to fit in at least 3 early evening runs per week...

...followed by a lovely, luxuriously deep, hot, bubble bath with my favourite music blasting away in the bedroom whilst I undertook - at leisure - any beauty regimes I wanted.

I would have pride in my flat.  I would decorate it myself slowly and deliberately.  It would be uncluttered and have display cabinets / space for my lovely things to be out and to be appreciated (rather than packed in storage in the dark and desperate depths of the loft).  Be free gorgeous hot pink stemmed Martini glasses that I painstakingly managed to get home from New York in one piece - be free to look beautiful!

I would take one evening a week to catch up with friends. One to relax and watch movies. One evening a week to experiment with new recipes in the kitchen. One to clean and iron (and I only need one evening because there is only my clothes to iron) and one evening to be creative and maybe take a dance class.

Weekends I would wake at eight (which now I understand is a lie in) and enjoy freshly brewed coffee...

...before enjoying getting washed and dressed singing to my music (where clothes, shoes and accessories would match) and (in take of breath) hair would be straightened.

Saturdays would be spent visiting friends and family and visiting places all over. Driving and seeing where it took me. Visiting all the fabulous shopping centres and places of interest that the country has to offer that I have never made the effort to see when I had the perfect chance (although 'Me - in real world' does get access to doing lots of cool kid things that without kids you don't get the opportunity to do either even though you think it would be so cool to do). 

Evenings would not always been spent out.  A few would, of course, and doing a variety of things but I would like to offer to babysit for friends and family so that they could enjoy some Saturday Night 'alone' time with their loved one.  I understand now that can make all the difference to a couple in the throng of life with 2.4 children.

Sunday would be race days.  I would try and run in a race in a different area every other week.  Again a great way to see lots of different place. The alternate weeks would be 'Lazy Sunday' the morning spent in bed, reading the delivered Sunday paper.  Then getting ready to go and meet friends for Sunday Lunch at the pub, or cooking and having friends over before of course getting fully ready and prepared for the week ahead.

As I say I do not crave to go back to being young and single.  But I suppose what this blog post points out to me is I miss organising and controlling my days time and activities. Lets face it we swing around on the pendulum of what the kids need and want and it's almost impossible to schedule anything with any definitive time line.  It's inevitable that J2 is going to poop and need changing the minute I get his shoes and coat on.  That's kids.  I guess I would just appreciate time and what I did with it more.

But some time will come back and then I will be writing a blog reminiscing and rose tinting about the days and times life was unplanned, unscheduled and ad-hoc. But hey, I'm a laaaaddddddyyyyy and that's my prerogative.

Sunday, 1 July 2012

Favourite Posts of the Last 12 Months

As mentioned in previous posts, Lynsey The Mother Duck will be a year old in August.  As well as looking forward and thinking about how the blog can be improved I also think it is important to look back. 

It has been pleasing scouring through posts of 2011-12.  So rather than the blog sit vacant whilst I am enjoying the balmy 80 degree heat of the Sub-Tropical Swimming Paradise at Centre Parcs with the family this week, from tomorrow I am going to present my Top 5 Favourite Blog Posts of the year. 

What would your own Top Five from your blog be?