…The tough gets going.

Family life gets tough sometimes, you know the days where we grit through over grinned teeth to our partners, those days where your stomach physically turns over at the sight of the over multiplying washing pile, your ears are ringing from the concert worthy noise projected from your little darlings lungs. And the million of questions on repeat from your overly bored, wishing he was still at school, son. It’s potentially your 5th thought of the week, to order a take out, rather than cooking from the week worth of contents in your fridge just to spare yourself from washing a few dishes up.

Then chuck in the trials and tribulations of running a family home with a child of SEN needs. I know what you’re possibly thinking, my daughter looks ‘normal’ right? My daughter looks ‘abled’. When presented with the word Special Educational Needs, you automatically assume it relates to serious or chronic illnesses…

Livy has the following identified Special educational Needs;

– Profound Bi-lateral Sensory Neural Loss (profound deafness)

– Visual difficulties

– Significant delays in speech and communication. (Less than half her chronological age)

– Delayed cognitive skills

– mild/Moderate delay in social skills

– significant delays in fine motor skills

– mild/moderate delays in gross motor skills

– significant delays in self help and independence

– some sensory seeking behaviours have been identified including Livy’s tendency for thrill seeking, which can lead to dangers for her.

When your child has some what ‘invisible’ needs, meaning that Livy presents in a well health, abled child, you don’t always notice her hearing aids, when our challenges are invisible to the human eye, our secret pain and joy is almost alienated to those who don’t truly know and understand what it’s like, only being in a similar circumstance could you comprehend our day to day challenges. This is incredibly isolating.

There is no denying our home life is incredibly demanding, life in lock down means we’re under the constant pressure without unwinding time. Half the time I feel like bursting into tears and I’m unsure if this is because I’m stressed, frustrated or emotionally exhausted. Some days I don’t feel myself almost like I’m disconnected from my feet. I simply float, getting myself through each hour. We’re so busy trying to meet our children’s needs, we forget our own emotional needs and my partner who is working from home, is already burdened. I don’t think he would want to wipe away my salty tears, when I don’t even know why they’re falling myself. I’d prefer to sink into a pizza, in hope of swallowing my feelings and masking them with the pleasure of the smokey taste of pepperoni.

There are many times in the day that I will escape into the kitchen, which almost opens its arms wide and quickly as a kettle boiling gathers all my broken pieces, from the first sip of coffee I’m pretty certain those collected broken pieces are temporarily glued together again. As an often overwhelmed mum, I will hold my hands up that there is a consequence for having so many parenting demands, is that mine and the children’s dad’s relationship has had more strikes than a baseball bat. And often left feeling bruised and dented from the ever going shots of a ball.

I’ve looked at my daughter during a full on show stopping melt down, trying to rack my brain, as if a little admin Beksie is pulling out files upon files, as to what could possibly be wrong, her aggression and frustration can be volcanic explosive, and as hot lava runs down, almost like her hot salty tears. I can never understand her frustrated pain, although deaf myself I do not suffer any inability to effectively communicate, I cannot begin to comprehend how she must feel and the anger against the world she holds.

During this pandemic I have been able to press pause on my much loved job, with the absence of pressure from work and places to be, with such minimal time, I mean who decided that 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes to a hour, 24 hours to day was enough to divide between three children, run a house, keep a relationship afloat, maintain a career and juggle medical and educational appointments, which to have come to halt. The lack of pressure has become welcomed and replaced with quality 1-1 time. There’s noticeable changes within Livy’s behaviour when she’s outside exploring. There’s a sudden calm in her tornado, whirlwind nature. She’s at peace as I am too.

Being a outdoorsy family, surrounded in the open where we can see all shades of green until the skyline meet and amongst natures finest comforts. We almost take a break from our confined lives. And mainly from ourselves. For me personally, sat by a lake watching the ripples of the stream and focusing on listening to trickles, provide a sense of relief, for once I’m not talking about my daughters diagnosis’ or medications, I’m not listening to more tasks and advice surrounding my daughters care and needs. It’s just peaceful to us both to inhale fresh goodness and exhale the frustrations which home life can bring.


There’s something so therapeutic about rainy days. The multitude of shades of grey, coolness of the breeze, that comforting fresh smell during rainstorms whilst wet droplets gently roll down our rosy cheeks.

Lockdown confined at home has started to become a kingdom of boredom.

If you have a child with sensory seeking behaviours, rain is your best friend which fulfils all those seeking needs… and her smile says it all.

For most parents the very thought of your child rolling in puddles or stomping in them in till your child’s heart is content, going into lakes to feel the ripples against their welly boot, exploring the texture of mud against their skin, tongues sticking out to feel the rain, mud pies, digging for those poor little wiggly worms, building streams in mud… honestly I get it, if Carlsberg made nightmares, this is potentially in the top 10.

The reason why playing in wet muddy environments, increases the levels of serotonin in our child’s brain, which is an endorphin that soothes, calms, and helps our child to relax. When our children are regularly exposed to messy muddy play it may help reduce a child’s vulnerability to depression!

So I guess what I am trying to say in short, playing in mud makes our children happier!And don’t we all need a little happiness during a global pandemic?

So pop those trusty rubbery wellies on, grab your favourite shower proof raincoat (My favourite rainproof clothes are JOULES) and have a wonderfully wet adventure with your children.

Luka-James, wellies and coat Joules http://www.joules.com

Livy, wellies joules http://www.joules.com and coat next http://www.next.com


This week is deaf awareness week, each day we will be uploading new signs for you to copy at home!

We would love to see them!

Here Livy signs I am proud to be deaf.

Luka-James shows us how to sign ‘My sister is deaf’.

A phrase and sign that’s really useful, especially if they’re playing at a playbarn or perhaps school Luka-James has the ability to inform staff/Carers of his sisters needs.

Luka-James is learning about bugs, here he shows how to sign his favourite bugs.

Luka-James shows us how to introduce himself.

Stay safe. Stay home.


When something beyond our control changes life as we know it, it’s how we deal with what we CAN control that shapes our days.

From 23rd March, we all as a nation woke the very next day full of apprehensive uncertainty, most of us waking up finding ourselves being an entirely different parent from the one we was, the day before. For the majority of us, we became teachers over night, as we tried to adjust to a new routine of working from home channeling our inner worries.

As COVID spread quicker than wildfire through our communities, taking no favour. Thousands if not millions of parents embraced their new 24/7 roles. On day one we saw a blur of rainbow coloured Pinterest worthy routine charts plastered all over our Social pages.

Mother’s of all ages prepared to tackle this change, like all mums we just adapt. But it wasn’t long before the heat turned up and pressure in the pan started boiling. COVID began to weaken our mental health, we appeared to dangerously compare ourselves more than ever to the sunshine glowing mums we see on social media, warmth radiating of their smiles through our screens. Our lack of ability to cook fluffy looking fairy cakes drizzled deliciously in white as snow icing and glittering sprinkles. Fear crept in as we realise our inability, lack of patience to guide and teach our children strategies we left behind the moment we stepped foot away from school. ‘I’m not a teacher, I haven’t trained to be one.’ But we forget for the last 4 years we was our only children’s guidance. We nurtured and taught our children to roll over, crawl, talk and walk. We taught our children to express themselves. We taught our children life skills and met all those milestones alone. We instantly became victims to undermining our parenting.

Like our great grandparents time, we now too are learning how to parent in a global crisis. Unlike them, their war was known and our war is silent and the enemy is unknown and unidentifiable until it claims its next victim.

Much similar, when Livy’s hearing was diagnosed as Profoundly deaf, life as I knew it changed. The way my parenting had to change for the preparation and resilience, it was a familiar feeling, as the parent you are today is not the one you have to step into tomorrow as. Our ability to change is not as reluctant as our veggie refusing toddler.

As we’re forced to sit at a table, to a dinner party we wished not attended with a host like COVID, as it serves up some pretty phenomenal changes to our everyday living, grief of lost ones and the economical stress of business’ being forced to temporarily pause. As we take our first mouthful of a recipe of disaster, acknowledging and accepting our feelings and stresses is the key to seeing through our days. We’re not alone right now, it’s very much ok to admit we’re struggling as we’re all sat at the table finding ourselves experiencing more emotions than we bargained for. And potentially a few greying hairs.

As each day blurs into the next, with only a cuppa or a wine in hand to identify if it’s morning or night, I hope you too are beginning to believe in your abilities of how incredible we are at adaptation, suddenly, your other problems feel weightless and we let go of the little things.

I mean, there was a time I sworn to myself that if I ever became a Mum, my child wouldn’t be seen out the house in a princess/marvel costume. Now my daughter struts her sass in multiple of princess
Dresses and both sons rock a Spider-Man costume
Spraying anyone that crosses their path with invisible web. I have adjusted to functioning on less sleep imaginable. All those cheeky drinks on a ‘school night’ ain’t got nothing on a newborn cry for boobie milk on every passing hour. I’m sure we’ve all imagined about being that insta mummy who feeds their children organic veggies, yet our darlings demand chicken nuggies with chips being their only form of veggie, we all know who won that war!

From being a adult without a care in the world and within minutes stepping into the world of unknown,
Parenthood. You’ve already nailed this skill of change and adaptation.

Keep believing, even if it is to get through to bedtime for that chilled glass of Rosè. Tomorrow is a new day.


How’s home schooling week 7… Or is it week 6..?

We successfully got dressed before 9am and sat at the table with colouring books for the younger two and a handwriting workbook for Luka-James. Coffee to hand feeling smug, I’ve got this shit under control.


Crayola crayons blast through the air quicker than a spitfire, closely followed by said workbooks. Coffee stained jumper and 3 kids trying to pin each other down, life depending on who gets first dibs on the iPad.

Lastly here we discover how to create a mummified mummy… with those precious last scraps of rationed loo roll.

Monday home schooling goals failed.
But there’s always Tuesday.


We’re all still in the midst of a global crisis, If you found that you’re checking the time like clockwork, you’re just getting through an hour at a time.

You’re not alone.

Eventually in due course you prepare to get by a day at a time. With three children all at different developments, the very idea of forever is crushing.


Give yourself a break.

We are trying our hardest.

Together let’s get through this morning, let’s get through Monday, let’s get through this week together and watch Peaky blinders lusting over the bad ass Mr Shelby with a glass of rosè, hair that has seen a brush on better days and a hand absolutely willing to help you demolish that bag of chocolate… no guilt attached.

Mothers, Dads and Carers, be proud of how hard you’re trying during this incredibly uncertain testing time.

My inbox is ALWAYS open.


High risk and vulnerable.

Both Livy and myself received letters this week notifying us both that we fall into the category of being vulnerable and at high risk of serious illness if we become in contact of COVID19. And at more risk of being admitted into hospital than others.

It’s such a worrying time for us all. Please keep safe this weekend and have a lovely Easter 🐣

Please stick to the rules.
Stay home. Save life’s.