What chance does a young girl have?

On the eve of a New Year, it seems the right time to reflect on what chance a young girl has in this modern world.

What chance of her receiving a full education? What chance of her managing to escape genital mutilation?  What chance she will grow up to earn the same salary as her male counterpart?

Still wondering if we live in a modern world?

The world has come on a long way but the journey is not over.





For 2014 I promise to continue to help girls learn to find their voices, to give them the confidence to speak up and speak out.

Maybe you would like to join me.

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Church Snob - put the crisps down

I generally don't mind how much noise young children make in church, the fact that they are there at all is a winner for me. I used to let Cog to take soft toys (hard toys banging constantly on the pews used to annoy me). She might take a cup of juice and very occasionally a packet of sweets.  I let her stand on the pews during hymns so she felt part of it, not just a dot at the dusty floor.  If the service was long and there was room she might even lay down and snooze - she slept a full 9 lessons and carols once - and she wasn't that young! 

I love it when the church is full of children, I love their voices, I don't mind if they race around the church after the service.  I think children learn what they live, they don't necessarily need to be told to sit still in a service, be quiet or even to kneel in prayer, they slowly just pick it up.  They follow the lead of the adults around them.  If adults sit contemplatively before a service, the children are generally quieter too.  If adults natter and move around, the children follow suit.

I know many adults aren't familiar with religious services but there are some things that seem like common sense or at least common decency.

I am so lucky that 3 times a year I am able to help our local primary school take all the year groups to one of our local churches.  We do it in 3 sessions, so 9 services.  The kids are great.  The parents.....

I used to go as a parent when Cog was a pupil, nothing has changed.  Some parents behave like they are an audience rather than participants.  Photos - ok, filming - weeeeell, alrighty then, but wouldn't you expect them to mainly stand and sit with the hymns and sing along.  Away in a Manger is generally known by most!

But today I have finally seen the biscuit, literally.  A row of parents with young children handing out packets of crisps and biscuits along the line.  Crisps.... during the Lords Prayer.  Ok, here comes the ranty bit:  You are only there for 30 minutes, your kids aren't going to starve.  It's not a bloody theatre show, it's a church.  It's the Lord's Prayer - if you can't bring yourself to politely join in - just shut the hell up whilst everyone else shows a bit of respect.

If you went to a Mosque would you watch everyone else take their shoes off at the door and tramp on in without removing yours, would you sit on the floor amongst the worshippers and unpack a picnic?  No.  When did people lose the respect for the sanctity of a Christian Church?  Whether you believe or not it doesn't matter, just show a little respect, and maybe make an effort to take a part.

I fear I may have become a Church snob but I think it's really important to show your children how to behave appropriately in different circumstances.  It teaches them how to do it too.  Why not take time to discuss with them what they think might be appropriate in different places: 

why you don't talk on your phone in the cinema, why you don't leave litter in the park, why you park a car between the lines, why you take a supermarket trolley back to the trolley park and why you don't offer around packets of crisps during prayers.

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December Flew Past

We've had our traditional Automatic Crispy duck Night.

 I've seen trees in Gothic halls

 We've made the Christingles

My favourite service of the advent season.

The month has flown by.












Cog made a Christmas table centre piece at the local 'chill out' run by the local churches together.  She was really good, went early and helped run this table all afternoon and then cleared up.  Not many kids her age would be prepared to do that.

We made gingerbread and turned it

into this

We are falling behind on the advent candle burning.

Time seems to go so much faster these days and candle burning so much slower.

I think we will be burning the candle at both ends tonight after midnight mass!

Merry Christmas all.

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The fake stuff makes me feel joy during the holiday season.

Christmas.

Funny how people are almost scared to really remember why it is happening at all.

There has been the usual religious debate in the Guiding forums about how appropriate it is or isn't to remind the girls about the religious aspect of Christmas.  So many people seem a whole lot more comfortable to go see the Coke lorry, get teary eyed over TV ads and talk about how it's all about giving and togetherness.

But the clue is in the name:

Christ Mass

Jesus is the reason for the season.

Somebody once said to me:

"The fake stuff makes me feel joy during the holiday season. The REAL stuff, though...Jesus.... helps me sustain joy year round."


Whatever you do, who ever you spend it with, may your heart be full of peace, love and understanding.

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Gingerbread house building senior section style

One of our Rangers baked the pieces for our unit to build houses. her original intention had been to buy premade kits but she couldn't get hold of any cheap ones. I was pretty impressed that she took the bull by the horns and instead of giving up, got on with it.  She is a Guider of the future.

These sort of activities aren't just good fun, they work on many levels.

Planning.  For most activities, just like the snowman, we tend to just say 'there is what you need, off you go.'  They have to work out how to achieve the end goal.  It's amazing to see the ones with common sense (and the ones without!) working it out.

Team working.  One girl alone can not build a house (if they want it to stay up!)

Dealing with disaster.  Listening to my Cog saying 'it's never going to work, we'll never do it' and others saying 'come on, let's do it this way instead'.  I think experiencing things going wrong and learning how to manage it, even in seemingly unimportant circumstances is important. 

Especially when it goes completely wrong and we leaders still don't offer assistance, they've got to motivate themselves to start again and try again.  And they did.  It seems a bit heartless (and we aren't as cruel as it sounds, honest) but there won't always be an adult around to pick up pieces for them.  Soon many of these girls will be leaving home for the first time. 







We have done things where they've given up, last years christmas origami was a disaster for most of us!  But this time they just got on with it again.

And they built a house.  Yes, it was propped up by cups but in fairness the house I made last year had cups hidden inside it holding it up and I remember considering super-gluing the chimney!

We had one house to 4 girls.  8 or 9 girls for a meeting night is average turnout for us. The unit naturally splits between the younger and the older girls, it works for them.

Each group broke them up at the end of the activity and ate what they wanted too.

The kits were £4 each. They included the gingerbread mix, royal icing mix, jelly sweets, red and green crispies, templates and piping bag.

We used my lakeland thick piping bags and icing nozzles and also had an extra bag of mini marshmallows and jazzies.

This was a really good activity and I would recommend it for Rangers and Guides.

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The Constant in Christmas

This week's gallery is 'Christmas Tree'

 My mum bought my Christmas tree for me the year my father died.

It has been my constant in Christmas ever since.

A house move.

Cog arriving. 

Single parenting.

Another house move.

The years I have dragged the box out of the attic on my own and brought it downstairs in sections because it was too heavy to carry alone.

Every year the same tree, the same decorations.

We look forward to opening the box and greeting our old friends.  We talk about the memories of where they came from and for some of them, the purpose they have on the tree.

It has became tradition somewhere along the way that Cog puts the star on our tree.

She is so big now it should be easy.
This year she fell off the chair and into the tree.
I thought it was very funny, she did not.

Some of the Christmas tree putting up togetherness spirit may have died at that point!

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400 cup snowman

 Yes, I definitely said 400 cup snowman.

You give Rangers 400 plastic cups and a couple of staplers and say "off you go"

 The head turned out to be slightly bigger than the body.  It did have a nose when we ran out of time, but no other face parts.

















Although, it may have been that they weren't always

completely concentrating on the task in hand.

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What Size Am I?

You might remember I did a post about size 6 being plus size in the modelling industry. 


Plus Model Magazine

I have also mentioned that I regularly give Next catalogue an ear bending about the (lack of) size of the models they use.  It's all standard they tell me, every one does it so that makes it alright. Not in my world of self responsibility it doesn't but hey-ho!

Justin Bieber allegedly called a size 14 girl a beached whale this week.

Here's a size 14.  She's not looking very whale-esque to me.  Damned sexy is what I call her.  But I'm sure Justin knows what he's talking about.  

I came across this interesting site http://sizes.darkgreener.com/  this week.  Plug in your measurements and it'll tell you what size you are in different shops.  I range between a 10 and a 14 depending on which shop it is.  It's no wonder clothes shopping is such a nightmare. 

Cog is struggling with how she feels about her body size at the moment.  She is insistent her thighs are too big.  She's never going to be a stick.  She will be a curvaceous women. More Jane Mansfield than Victoria Beckham.  Clothes shopping with her is hard.  She afflicted with my family genes.  We put the hour in glass.  Beyonce butts are us. I guess by the time she's 40 something she'll finely start to appreciate what she's got, just as the bloom starts to fade.


So Justin wants a skinny piece of the pie?  I think he's missing a trick.  But for the poor young girls left worrying even more about whether they will be called Beached Whales, how do they ever become comfortable with normal, healthy and, lets be honest, sexy when we are faced with the never ending media myths that are underlined by their idols.

 

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Christmas Cat

This week's Gallery is "Feeling Festive"

Yup, the apple is on her head. She's a patient girl, bless her.

She didn't even complain when we decided the bell looked better.

 She just lay there giving us 'the look.'

But all the gaity started to get the better of her.
















Well, she'd been awake at least 20 minutes, so it was definitely time for 40 winks.

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Will the world stop turning if .....

Will the world stop turning if I don't send Christmas cards?

I don't like Christmas cards.

There, it is said.

I normally try to get them written early November so it is done and I can forget the whole thing and get on with enjoying the season.  This year I have failed to do it and the pile of unwritten cards is mocking me from a corner of the living room.

I don't like displaying cards, they fall over, fill walls, fall off.  Bah humbug.  I don't like the way people open them up and read the messages inside when they are on display.  I find it a strange thing that it is even acceptable thing to do.  One year I had a basket and I put every card into the basket so if any wanted to flick through them they could then I relented and went back to putting them on display.

I am torn between the annoyance they give me, the writing, the displaying, the storing and the guilt trip it leaves me with for not embracing and enjoying the experience.

I am thinking about not writing any this year (except for those I know will be very offended not to get one and will call my mother to ask why!).  And in a warped way I look forward to HWMBO asking the standard daily question as he opens the cards that arrive:

"Did we send them one?"

Yes, it's the season of the Royal 'we' in our house hold.  And I'm truly looking forward to seeing his expression every time I say "no".

That happy thought will have me whistling Jingle Bells right through every card falling off the card rope.

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Come on Life, sort it out.

I normally try to stay upbeat but seriously, life is beating me down right now so if you want sunshine and roses then look away now...

....still here?  Y'all just love misery don't you?!

It's all first world problems. I can deal with one or two, it's just shit happens. But when we roll into 3 or 4 at once I start to struggle.

The pain eased in gently with Sainsbury's failing to turn up on Sunday night and not calling to explain why. I hate having to chase customer service. They finally called and told me they weren't going to deliver, would refund my money in a few days but I could reorder for a new delivery if I was prepared to pay again. Oh joy. The shopping arriving was important as I was working away and wanted the cupboards stocked for Cog before I went. I left money behind instead! Ching went the cash register.

The car went into the garage Monday morning for a service. I've been driving around with the handbrake light on for a while. They'd told me it was an electrical fault they'd clear when they did the service. Turns out my brakes were knackered. Ching went the cash register.

I got home from work on Monday evening to the sound of dripping water. The bath panel came off, the tiles came off, the boxing in came out, but no luck. The ceiling came down. Ahhh, there's the pipe. "The bucket's there, we'll send someone tomorrow love" Ching went the cash register.

Off to Rangers, home to 'still dripping'.

Tuesday morning, working from home, the drip turned into a run. I called plumbers and asked if they could send someone earlier. A young girl arrived. Given that I knew the experienced bloke the night before had struggled, I worried. She lasted 45 minutes before calling for backup. A man with a jigsaw arrived and starting cutting up my bathroom floor. HWMBO came home and I left for the station feeling part packed and like I was abandoning a crisis. He was on the phone to the insurance company.

The train stopped halfway through my journey, failed signals, I decided I'd totally had enough of being picked on by life, hung my head low and stared at the floor and spotted a £1 coin. "Perspective" I thought. Many people would be so happy to have a pound in their pockets.

As I got off the train in Manchester I dropped it into the pot of a beggar. He thanked me and I chirpily said 'no worries, I found it on the floor of the train'. I understood myself to be sharing a moment of enlightenment about perspective. As I walked away I realised it probably made him feel worthless and my momentary good mood floated away again. Failed charity giver.

So I found myself in Manchester with Cog on the phone saying she needed a white shirt for the school concert I was going to miss because I was working away. Failed mother.

In fairness, I had a very worthwhile trip away. But the weather came in and gave me a hellish trip home through cancelled trains, slow trains, misinformation and mardy taxi drivers.  I popped my head around the door of Cog's Christmas concert.  I'd missed her part. Failed mother part deux.

As it turns out both Cog and HWMBO have had a fairly difficult time without me,  both of them said in passing that they found the mornings hard without me.  I think it does us all good once in a while to have a bit of life thrown at us to help us see properly the reality of what we do actually have.

In my case it is a loving (mostly!) family, a good routine, an easy commute, and a warm (if ceiling holey) home.  As you were life, you'll do.

Oh except, the refund for the failed Sainsbury's shop didn't make it back to my bank account before today's shop was debited, and they've so far failed to turn up with my shopping today as well. But at least I'm now on first name (shouty) terms with most of the managers! 

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A morning with choice

This week's Gallery is 'morning'.

I could tell you about the weekday morning when I have to get up at 6:15 in order to be through the bathroom before I wake Cog, I dress, put Cog's hair up, downstairs to cook breakfast, feed cats and fish, go back upstairs to do hair and makeup, back down stairs to empty and restack the dishwasher, put a load of washing in, run through the day with Cog to make sure we both have what we need, see her out the door and off to the bus stop, I jump into the car and head off to work.

What amazes me is that HWMBO in the same amount of time, gets himself up and out.  Ahh bless.

But it's just a bore to show you a photo of a blur of a me whizzing from room to room, a tired grump of a Cog and a static HWMBO.

So have a weekend morning instead.  The one where I get a choice.  A choice about whether to lay in bed and veg or whether to get out and about.  In fairness I rarely get 'out' before 10am.  But hey, it's better than not going at all.

I got this far on Saturday morning, just one field from home and realised I could choose:

Whether to go straight ahead and up the hill.

















Or left, into the wood.

Or right, into the sun. 

 

It was such a lovely morning, I decided to take the longest route round and headed into the wood. 6k at a steady pace, not very fast but enough to make me feel like I am trying.  I never seem to get any fitter or any faster but whenever I'm out over the fields I know I feel a lot happier and better about myself for having made the effort.

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