Festive Fine Motor Skill Fun: Paper Chains!



It's that time of year! A recycling box full of unwanted catalogues and children wanting Christmas craft ideas.


Once I've flicked through them, if I even get time for that, I pop them straight into the recycling bin, making a mental note to remove myself from the umpteen mailing lists. 

That is, until last week when Natty was off school due a sudden bout of bed and pyjama-covering vomiting. Clearly not able to go to school but jolly and chirpy in herself, we decided to settling down to a spot of Mummy and daughter making and doing.

The plush paper booklets, fliers and leaflets lay on the kitchen table as we ate our breakfast, promising ever more original gifts for the neighbour, teacher, pet dog... 

AHA! I thought. They were all in festive colours, silvers and greys with touches of red and green splurged on them. They would make perfect Christmas decorations: paper chain material! 

In the past I have bought costly paper chain making kits, the sort where your child ingests copious amounts of glue, licking the ends to stick them together. They look lovely but... we would have a go at making our own, for a fraction of the cost.

You will need:
unwanted Christmas catalogues
scissors or a guillotine
stapler 



I cut the paper into roughly similar widths and lengths then Natty began looping the strips through each other and holding them in place while I stapled them together. I was struck by how fiddly this was and what a super little exercise for developing her fine motor skills. Her Occupational Therapist would have been proud!


She even demanded to do it all by herself. The stapler was a little stiff for her small hands but with a bit of help she got the hang of it. 





The results were better than I could have imagined, we made meters of the cheap decorations over a few days. And more importantly Natty learnt a new life skill and she was kept occupied while getting over her tummy bug.





Happy Christmas artsy crafty creating!


Check out our Christmas Pinterest Ideas here. 

You might also like to read Painting a Triceratops: Fine Motor Skills Development here. Or try Christmas pretzel biscuits here.


8 Things my Blog has Taught Me over 2 Years


It is 2 years since I nervously sent my first unhoned musings out into the ether via the World Wide Web. Read Blank Blog Blindness here, where I talk about,  

"a feeling of wanting to get something much more important, 
very right from the onset.  
Of wanting to create something that will lift spirits, give support, bring people together, raise a smile and encourage. Yet all the while providing practical tips and real solutions for the everyday lives of parents and educators who have a child with Down's Syndrome in their lives." 




Motivation

Convinced no-one would read, I nicknamed it 'my little blogette', the sharing of our family life with 2 gorgeous daughters, one with Down's syndrome. My motivation was, and always has been, to buy precious early time for parents following a diagnosis. To show them that this path less travelled is never dull, that their lives will go on pretty much as before, and that with the right support their children will achieve great things. To dissolve and shine light on the kind of fear that consumed me in the early months after Natty's birth. An all-round Down syndrome support blog was my aim.

But what has my blog taught me? What have the unexpected lessons been? How has it changed my family? Where has it taken me, my values and thinking? And what has it achieved for others?

1 Blogging is time consuming

As the photos show, 'blogging' doesn't really describe what has become a full time unpaid job for me now. Speaking, writing, training, learning, meeting, talking. If you're thinking of starting a blog you might want to set strict limits for it from the outset. I probably spend 7 hours a day Mon-Fri on associated work, and I'm late for everything because I'm always trying to squeeze in one last call or email or Tweet.

Why do I do it? Why don't I say no when I'm asked to write an article for nothing that takes a week of my spare time? Why do I do an unplanned radio interview at 10 minutes notice which leaves me shaking with adrenaline all day?

Because when I discovered that people enjoy reading and listening, it made it all worthwhile. When one acquaintance said that before reading Downs Side Up she had felt sorry for our family and now she doesn't, I suddenly knew I was changing the perceptions of the wider public towards not just Down's syndrome but disability in general. When a new Mum wrote to me from her maternity ward bed having discovered us via Google, saying that the blog was the only thing giving her hope for her new baby with Trisomy 21, I knew I couldn't stop writing.

I'm still never prepared for the honest, open and heartfelt emails and comments that come my way, often anonymously: 

"Your blog has keep me going the last 3 months," 
"thank you for showing us that there is light at the end of the tunnel", 
"I hope I will one day be as positive as you are", 
"I keep your newspaper articles in my kitchen drawer to boost me on the bad days",
"My friend had a termination but having read your blog she is going to try again and will not have testing this time."


A Typical Day

Wake up and drag self out of bed after 3 alarm bells
Shout 'shoes' and shovel breakfast in the girls while they create dinosaurs or similar
Do school run
Home and prepare dinner (usually chucking a stew in the slow cooker)
Check and replay to emails
Check and post on all social media sites: Twitter, Pinterest, Facebook, LinkdIn, Tumblr, Google+
Write an article for a magazine or journal
Turn down about 5 emails to do reviews
Pick the odd 1 relevant review
Plan my Special Needs Jungle and Britmums columns plus any guest editing I'm doing
Join in any live Twitter chats 
Interview any guest bloggers
Chat to the latest documentary maker or journalist needing advice or a quote
Think about writing a blog post of my own.... time usually short for that.
Run out the door 5 mins late for school grabbing 'lunch' on the way
Do errands, docs appts etc
Homework, precious time with the girls, bed time and stories
Tidy up and the finish off the things that got started during the day (if I don't fall asleep before).

* I never let blogging encroach on family time, so after school and weekends are off limits.*



2 It's an emotional journey

I never for one minute expected blogging to be so all-consumingly emotional when I started. There are days where it gets too much and I have to step back, days of grief where a family I've got to know online have lost a baby, or of fear when I have had to go to the Police about a particularly nasty troll and the bigots voices surround us. A couple of days off usually brings the strength to continue shining a light into dark corners.

Then there are the times when I have been more nervous than I knew possible, frozen with fear over a live Skype BBC TV interview on a tricky subject or speaking to a room of MPs, adrenaline sending me to the smallest room in the house over and over. Then the moments of pride, reduced to tears because Natty has another modelling job or someone has noticed the reason for the long hours and nominated DSU for an award: Outstanding Contribution, Inspire, Woman of the year, Local Hero. And then the invite to Number 10.
None of it seems deserved and I am left humbled. And often crying but more determined than ever.

Yet, dear blog, I have grown a thicker skin, become wiser in so many ways.


3 Blogs have a life of their own

The work surrounding the blog has been organic. There is never a plan in mind, I just follow it's lead. Sometimes Natty's modelling or an award leads to a lot of media work. Likewise if something happens that demands attention I will write for change, e.g. getting a bigot removed from office for example, campaigning for a law change or calling for justice for someone wronged. Then I will be invited to do various events, such as speaking at conferences or Parliament. For this I research the subject matter in depth, such as the facts surrounding disability abortion law, sometimes there are facts I wish I hadn't read. 
Other than that I watch my family and listen to my heart and thoughts in the quietest of moments and write about them.

Just as the direction a blog takes can change unexpectedly, the posts which are read the most is often surprising. It's never the posts that you favour as a writer, never the ones which are the most well-wrtten, but often the most controversial. I am however happy to say that my all time most popular post is the most useful. It's the one that I read at Britmums last year and made you all cry. What to Say When a Baby is Born with Down's syndrome.


4 Writing is unexpectedly cathartic, healing and educational

Writing and speaking about the complicated emotions that come with an unexpected diagnosis for our baby was intended to help other parents, to let them know that everyone adjusts in their own time and way and that a full range of feelings is entirely typical. What I didn't realise was that through that writing, you organise those jumbled thoughts until you reach a point where they all make sense even to yourself, but you will bring them to the fore again. I have spent many evenings crying over the pc, pouring my heart into a post. It's a hugely cathartic and healing process, like free therapy I suppose! 

And by blogging those thoughts you enable friends and family to read them in privacy and at a time that suits them as well. You are able to explain in a way that you would never be able to face to face, and that helps them understand.

Alongside that, blogging is a learning curve. How do write this and pin that and post the other. And the research involved is like doing a degree!

5 There is so much online support

Above all of this I am thankful for the internet enabling the words of bloggers and charities  and support groups and writers and forums and professionals and other parents to help others, but also to bring the support I need in to me at a moment's notice. I am grateful to be part of such a supportive online family, working together to change the world one attitude, one law, one person at a time. Thank you all. If you are reading this, it's you too.

I am eternally thankful for the friends I have made along the way be they parents of other children with Down's syndrome, wise parents of adults, professionals with Down's syndrome or bloggers who make me giggle when I need a change or give me technical advice when I am stumped. Online friends who lift me when I'm tired, authors and artists and playwrites and actors, even some lovely media folk who have remained constant advisors and friends (in between those who would sell their granny for a story). I always said Natty was a great ice-breaker, but our family has met so many wonderful others whose paths would never have crossed otherwise.

6 Not everyone will understand

I can think of one or two, no more fortunately, people in our local community who have barely spoken to me since the media coverage of Downs Side Up began. I wondered at first if they misunderstood my motives, thinking I was trying to be like Jordan and revel in the public eye. Then I wondered if jealousy was playing a part, but finally someone pointed out that blogs like mine hold up a mirror for others to see their own reflection in. And as we are bringing about a subtle change, they see this is a criticism of the way they were doing things before...


7 Blogging can be costly

Paid for every click you say? Ha! Is that one of those urban myths!?

I do get a lot of requests to write reviews, usually in exchange for a cheap plastic toy. 
I say no of course. 

Other writers ask if they can put a post about insurance on my blog. 
I say no again. 

I took adverts off the blog after a few weeks because it was distracting. 

Now there is nothing wrong with blogging for payment, I just choose not to do it because I don't have time and I want the message of Downs Side Up to be clear. So yes, it costs me more than I earn. Software, domain name fees, hosting fees, train fares, blogging event tickets, accommodation, even postage. 
Worth every penny though. 

8 You have to do it naked

Not strictly true of course, but, spurred on by Kate on Thin Ice, getting naked to bring awareness of miscarriage, to encourage mums to celebrate their post-birth bodies and to forgive them for the losses while raising money for Down Syndrome Awareness Day was just one of the more curiously unexpected events of the year. Read Downs Side Up Uncovered here to find out more.

I wonder what the next year will bring?

I hope you'll pour balm on more hearts dear blog, open more eyes, make some real change, get our collective voices heard. I know you'll bring new friends, new inspiring plays or films or dance or books to watch and review. I will meet more adults with learning disabilities who will lead the way. We'll learn more tips and tricks to make life easier, often from medical or teaching professionals and we'll share them in the melting pot. Blog, you are now a hub, drawing inspiration to you like a powerful magnet. Thank you.

Oh, and who knows, maybe I'll find a sponsor!





You might like to read our most popular post 














Would you like more readers for your SEN blog? Join us here.

My poor blog is feeling a little neglected. It's just going to have to get used to it...

because I've been asked to write columns, articles and edit round-ups for some rather large and very well respected organisations (Shhh, don't tell it, you might hurt it's feelings). 

It's such an honour and wonderful opportunity to bring our voices together, learn more about SEN from others, gather support for parents and create real change for our children.

So if you write a blog about your family or child with a disability or SEN, do join in one of the linkys below.





Britmums - We're talking about sensitive subjects, such as writing wills, staring and losing a precious child, as well as reading the wonderful words of adults with a learning disability writing about their own full lives with friends, jobs and campaigns this month in Tricky Taboos and This Is Me.





Mumsnet - asked me to guest edit their This Is My Child round-up this November. It's still open so tell us what makes your child so unique and wonderful here. We've had a lovely response so far.



Photography by Andra Alexander

Special Needs Jungle - Tania has asked me to join her team of esteemed columnists on her one-stop-SEN-shop site. This month we're talking about the Uniqueness of the SEN Parent and how expecting too much of each other might not be the best form of support. We are as individual as our children after all. 




Last but not least, you might also like to read a little article published on the famous What to Expect When You're Expecting website this week. 
It's entitled Expect the Unexpected: 9 Lesson I Learned from Having 2 Beautiful Daughters (one with Down syndrome) and came about when they asked if I would mind hosting a post for them. My mind whirred and I flipped the offer around, suggesting instead to write a piece on Expecting the Unexpected for them. I was delighted when they said yes! (Little old me, a contributor to the world's most famous parenting guide. Sorry blog).

Miscarriage, breach birth, home birth, an unexpected diagnosis, a spell in NICU and months of breastmilk expressing are stirred together with a healthy dose of wit here.


Top author Andrew Merriman on his WAG daughter Sarah who HAS Down's syndrome

Hayley: Approximately 6 and 3/4 years ago, a few months after Natty had entered our world and I had chucked the hideously outdated Handbook for Down's Syndrome that someone gave me in the bin (my daughter is not a kitchen appliance after all) and ploughed through all the useful yet somehow impersonal charity information leaflets, and sat and cried at the hurtfully worded untruths one can find so easily online, I stumbled on Andrew Merriman's book A minor Adjustment after a late night Google search of the term Down's syndrome.

I can honestly say that this book changed my thinking for good. I read and cried and laughed and saw a family like ours. Here was a father not afraid to describe his feelings honestly whether of pride or worry or his inability to choose a winter coat for his daughter. Suddenly I was not alone in my fussing over what Natty would wear. 

Andrew never sugar coats life as I don't believe we should, there are challenges and why pretend there are not, but he is capable of great humour in his writing. More importantly he accepts and escribes his daughter Sarah for who she is and Down's syndrome is an important part of that.

I'm in danger of waffling now, but I have to admit I was a little star struck when Andrew and I chatted on Twitter. I am most honoured beyond belief that he has agreed to write a guest post for Downs Side Up for I can truthfully say, that when I began the blog, it was his brand of tell-it-like-it-is support that I wanted to create, to emulate the style of his book in a daily online magazine kind of way. He has been an inspiration.

For that, and more importantly for helping me bond with Natalia all those years ago,and to see the way ahead of us with more clarity, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. 








SARAH MERRIMAN

         It’s nearly twenty-two years since my dearest daughter Sarah was born with a dramatic flourish and a determined expression on her kisser, ‘Hello. Here I am, deal with it.’  

As you will have guessed from the loyal followers of Hayley’s blog it will come as no surprise that Sarah has Down’s syndrome. And she doesn’t just happen to have Down’s syndrome, an oft used phrase by proud parents when describing the remarkable achievements of their offspring, Sarah has Down’s syndrome and it has affected her throughout her life thus far and will continue to do so. But without it neither would she be who she is - nor indeed would our family be who we are. 

         I am sure that we have all experienced similar feelings at the births of our babies with the extra chromosome. There was the inevitable chain reaction of shock, horror, tears, acceptance and love - all those emotions spread over a number of years. I wrote in Sarah’s biography ‘A Minor Adjustment’ the life affirming effect that children and people with Down’s syndrome have upon the world but shrank from the assertion that ‘Every home should have one.’ But it is true that Sarah and her friends have changed our lives in unimagined ways since her birth.

         I don’t know about other families but the Merrimans have become a little obsessed with children and adults with Down’s syndrome. My wife Alison, who is now at the stage where babies and toddlers hold little interest, comes over all soppy and maternal in the company of a young child with Down’s syndrome. At a crèche for Down’s Syndrome Association conference she came close to an out of body experience. My eldest son Daniel is studying law with the aim of being a disability lawyer and is involved in coaching at North London United - a football team for children and adults with DS. My youngest son, Joel, has helped out for years at a dance and drama group for teenagers with Down’s.

         If I see someone with Down’s syndrome I want to know all about him or her. Their story, what they do, who their people are. Once, at a wedding, my Daniel, and I spotted who we thought was a toddler with DS in a pushchair. We stared at him from all angles, indulged ourselves in whispered discussion, weighed up all the possibilities without having the confidence to make an approach. It was only when Dan and I shyly introduced ourselves that we discovered that Sarah had already accosted the child’s mother and asked ‘Has he got Down’s syndrome like me?’ He did and his mum was charmed by Sarah’s confident and no-nonsense approach.

         It was the same at Number 10 some years ago when we were invited to a reception by Sarah Brown. We were all wondering if we would get a chance to meet the PM, but didn’t like to be too inquisitive. Sarah strode past General Petraeus, dignitaries and various flunkeys, and marched up to her namesake and demanded to know, “Where’s Gordon?”
         And it’s not just the door of number 10 that Sarah has opened for us. Her impact on my professional life has been immeasurable. Through her I’ve had a radio series, I have served as a trustee of the Down’s Syndrome Association and have been given the opportunity to write several books connected with the subject. On a personal level, even more importantly, are the valuable lifelong friendships that we have struck up with a number of other parents.

         We have been lucky in that Sarah is in relatively good health, was supported admirably in mainstream school and Sixth Form College by the much maligned London Borough of Haringey and is flourishing.  Fortunately Haringey have continued their support and Sarah is now in her third year at Foxes Academy in Minehead, where she is learning catering and hospitality and loving every minute. She works in the hotel and lives independently in minimally supported housing which she shares with seven other ‘learners’. ‘Foxes’ is a brilliant place that encourages independence with just the right amount of assistance and encouragement. Sarah has a boyfriend, Daniel, who has Autism and is a true athlete. He is an excellent swimmer and has been selected for the GreatBritain’s Special Olympic cycling team and Sarah has supported him in various competitions.  Who’d have thought? My daughter the WAG . . .

         Of course there is much to be done: iniquitous spending cuts are causing untold distress, a post code lottery still exists in terms of resources and the recent MENCAP report about the treatment of learning disabled hospital patients is horrifying. But we have come along way from the days when babies with Down’s syndrome were written off at birth, children were denied a legal education and adults were deprived of some medical interventions. There is now the opportunity of a life fulfilled and despite all those initial heartaches, we just couldn’t imagine life without our daughter. And thinking about it now, in retrospect, I think I was wrong all those years ago. There is one thing of which I’m quite sure. 
Every home should have a Sarah . . .

ANDY MERRIMAN




How to (Almost) Ice-Skate like Torvil and Dean

When your husband's idea of an ice-skating session is to sit and smile, photo-snapping smart phone in one hand, fowming hot chocolate in the other, from the non-icy side of the rink fence, a session with 2 non-skaters takes on more of the appearance of 3 Bambi on Ice, rather than a trio of former Olympic champions.

We go every year and I end up a quivering nervous wreck, trying to hold Natty (and myself) up, while hanging on to Mia and a balast filled Penguin and fearing the loss of someone's finger, sliced off by a skate blade.

Anyway, always conscious of the need to let the children take calculated risks, we returned for our first torture session fun on the ice this Winter at the weekend.

Astonishingly Mia was the first on the ice and began happily whizzing round independently, albeit clinging to the side, a blur of funky leggings, a skater girl skirt and leg warmers. Ooooops, when did fashion sudenly become so important!

Natty, who had been given, not a pair of twin-bladed strap on skates this year due to increased foot size, but an actual professional skating boot with only one perilously narrow blade between her and the slippery ice. My chest began to tighten, not too sure of how this was going to go. Natty is just Natty but the worrying side of my brain thinks of weak necks and hypomobility and tantrums on ice.

Never one to miss an opportunity for a little spelling and reading practice though, Natty got
to know her Penguin chaperone's name: 


"p - i - p spells Pip," she shouted proudly.




Well, the rest was a breeze. 

We sailed around, much like Torvil and Dean, ice crunching in our wake. Natty managed without me, occasionally asking me to add a bit of oooomph once in a while, just for adrenaline's sake, to bring a little speed to the proceedings. More or less, we were stars in our own eyes. 

Just for an afternoon... 






Gorgeous Inclusive Calendars




Look no further than Shabang Theatre or Down Syndrome Centre, Dublin for your calendar for 2014. 

Sahabang Theatre include 3 useful Makaton symbols and signs to use at home for each month.




Down Syndrome Centre, Dublin includes a lovely story about each child featured.



Not only do they make a great gift and promise to organise your life simply by hanging in your kitchen (I'm clinging to that hope anyway), but they will bring sparkle, joy and a set of beautiful role models into your lives.

Proceeds go to charity of course. You can purchase both calendars via the weblinks links above.

I wonder if the Makaton Charity will be bringing out an interactive advent calendar again this year. That was such fun too!

New Dad Talks about Life with Down Syndrome

A few months ago I recieved a beautiful email from Matt's wife Laura. It was the sort of email that makes me realise that I am not writing into a vacuum and that DSU is achieving what I set out to do, to support new parents, let them see that life with Down's syndrome will go on pretty much the same as it did before, only better, despite the health setbacks. I never share emails or comments that are sent privately, but Matt has penned this piece especially for you dear reader. Meet the Horsnells:


I’m new to this…
October is Down’s Syndrome Awareness Month in the US, and many people, some of whom I’ve got to know remotely over the past 8 or so months, have been penning excellent blogs focussing on what DS is, and what life is like for children and adults with DS, and for their friends and families.
One of these people is Hayley Goleniowska. I’ve not yet had the pleasure of meeting Hayley and her family, and the chances are that I would not have even heard of Hayley but I have. I have for two reasons.
The first is because my daughter, Ada, who was born in February this year, was diagnosed postnatally with Down’s Syndrome. Like most couples expecting their second child we were excited, fairly relaxed, and slightly anxious about the onset of life with two children under two. I was expecting a little less sleep, possibly some jealousy from our eldest having to share her mum and dad for the first time, and another couple of months of intense nappy changing.
What I wasn’t expecting was that our baby would be born with DS. Not that it is relevant, but since everyone asks (and please do stop asking parents of new babies) we did have the run-of-the-mill screening, we were considered low risk, and I should imagine like most people we didn’t think anymore of it.
I didn’t even think about it when our baby was born. The birth was incredibly smooth, labour seemed easy enough (from where I was sat!), and Ada was delivered into the world with her amniotic sack intact, something the midwife instantly told us was good luck.
Looking back now, I’m not sure if I started to suspect that something was wrong during the night or during the next day as we were waiting for the all clear to leave the hospital. Her hearing was fine and she’d had some basic tests. Then there was some scuffling by the midwives that they were waiting for someone to listen to Ada’s heart again, as there was a suspicion of a murmur.
What followed, predictable though it is as you read this, came as such a shock to us. 
We were told that our daughter in all likelihood had Down’s Syndrome.

I have never and probably will never feel again the gut wrenching, heart aching flush that took over me in that moment. I could probably tell you exactly what all the doctors, nurses and midwives were wearing, who was standing where and what was still left to pack into our hospital bag such is clarity of the moment when we were told. I won’t dwell on it here, suffice it to say that we were told it straight. It even made some sense when they said it, after all our baby had seemed a little weaker this time, she’d not latched on very well, there was some concern that her eyes were a little puffy and she became incredibly dry during the night.

Looking back, I’m not sure if it was my ignorance to the facts, or that I was suppressing something that I didn’t want to accept. Either way I have never had the earth pulled from under me so quickly as I did that day.
In the hours, days and weeks that followed I did my best to try and understand what Down’s Syndrome really is and what the realities for my daughter were. We are incredibly lucky to have a loving family who really rallied around. My sister and her husband in particular had, to my on-going pride, been very involved with Scope and Mencap for some years and so instantly knew in which direction to point us. We had soon located the very aptly named, Cambridge Baby and Children with Down Syndrome Support Group, and I’d received a second hand copy of Andrew Merriman’s A Minor Adjustment through the post, sadly it is out of print. [A Minor Adjustment has just been released on Kindle - H]
The other source of information we had during the early weeks were blogs, which leads me on to the second and true reason that we have heard of Hayley. Hayley is such a strong advocate for Down’s Syndrome and it was probably through a google search of “Down’s Syndrome Support Blog” that we found DownsSideUp.
Although I had been able to read the literature the hospital had given us, and had managed to read most of the Down Syndrome Association's website for new parents, it was Hayley's blog which instantly struck a chord with my wife Laura. 
Laura had been unable to read anything about DS in hospital until I read her Hayley’s posts. Hayley, like us has two daughters, seemed genuinely nice and was actually getting on with living. I read many of her posts to Laura and we cried out loud together, partly through realisation that we were not alone, not unique, and partly because her blog offered hope, and happy photos and stories as well as facts.
Like Hayley and many, many parents we had our initial problems. Ada had very dry cracked skin, for which we were prescribed pure sunflower oil, olive oil brought her out in a rash, yes we experimented! We had 5 weeks of feeding through a nasal-gastric tube, which was tricky at the best of times, and incredibly, arm achingly slow, but Ada was feisty and really didn’t want the tube in. So, despite being desperate to get out of the hospital after our 8 day marathon just a few days earlier, we started then what has become regular trips to Addenbrooke’s Hospital.
This an extract from an email I sent to my family at the time that sums it up well:
“Ada discharged from neonatal care, as all going well, and had put on another 100g on Wednesday (@25gms/day) so we’re up to 7.5lbs. Now responsibility of health visitor and early years support team.
Lots of appointments arranged... genetic counselling, foetal medicine counselling, counselling, physiotherapy, speech therapy, bonding and attachment therapy, portage, ophthalmologist, heart scan, hip scan, repeat thyroid, baby massage, child development team and last but not least the standard six week check next week."
Fortunately things have calmed down since then and Ada is now nearly 9 months old.

She loves going to Yoga with Mummy, and she started swimming lessons with me a month ago. She is happy and healthy and is the apple of her sister’s eye, who quite often states with pride “You is the best friend for me ever!”. Ada was fully breast fed for 6 months and is now enjoying solids too. She is sitting and just this week started to clap.
We’ve been on a family holiday and, albeit small-scale to the Norfolk Broad’s this year, we’re determined to tackle flying abroad next year if we can. We’ve been camping at a music festival and we’re just about to move house. 
I mention all this, because we nearly lost sight of it all 9 months ago. It just didn’t seem possible. How very wrong we were.


Matt Horsnell - Ada's Daddy
 @maver on twitter