Happy Birthday Mum.

Happy Birthday Mum.

It’s 9th March.  Mums Birthday. I felt it approaching, and I know C was watching, waiting, prepared for the fallout, the quiet telephone conversations with my sister as we find our way through. Winter is tough, a whole pile of memory hurdles coming thick and fast – the last time I saw my parents was on Jolly’s Birthday, 22nd December. Then there’s Christmas and all its memories and family associations. New Year. Six years ago it was February half term which contained the Great Revelation, the opening of the box which contained our particular family’s sordid little skeleton… Then comes today, and following hotly on its heels is Mothers Day. It’s always tricky. But this year is…lighter. Easier. It’s been a long...

Malfoy? No problem, Boy…

Malfoy? No problem, Boy…

Boy has been doing a project at school. A harry potter Project. Which started as a bit of creative writing, but as spreadeagled itself across every single class activity for weeks as they have scripted, filmed, edited and produced their own films. And written the title music. And then set about organising the Premiere – a beautiful invite heralded the imminent Potter night. Boy informed me with a week or ten days grace that he needed to be Malfoy. NEEDED a costume. And no, the Quidditch robes that we have in the dressing up box with POTTER across the backthat are lined with Gryffindor Red won’t do. I fretted not. That’s what eBay is for, yes? Simples. The weekend before the big night I had a meander around its listings. And found that Malfoy...

No more roaring, honest.

Okay, seeing as you asked, I’ll expand – without the huffing and the shouting.. No.1 – tis apparently just result of stress of moving to High School, was entirely expected by CFS co-ordinator knowledgeable lady, and is why she didn’t sign him off her books when he was haring around swimming pools and going to the skate park last summer. Whilst he was slowly struggling (and not really coping) with the adjustment, his energy was sliding, and then around November his immunity took a dip, and the throat and ear infections began, then he stopped falling asleep at night (we’re back to midnight at the earliest…) – eventually had to stop pretending it was a bug (he’ll-be-better-next-week), and realise it needed better handling. Hang on, I wrote it...

RoooOAAARRRRRRR

Have had week from hell. No.1’s officially (after two months pretending it’s not) in relapse. Boy has lost the ability to fall asleep (11? Every night? Tired enough to fall asleep in class?). Jolly has decided that twice nightly visit to Mummy are perfectly acceptable. Bear’s had a cold and is whiny.   BUT.   After re-instigating the Pants To Be Proud of sticker chart (am thinking of applying for a patent, has worked like a charm for two children now) my girl now poo’s in the toilet. That’s a little slice of happy, anyway, yes?  

What I found on my pillow after catching Boy playing his DS in bed at 9p.m…

What I found on my pillow after catching Boy playing his DS in bed at 9p.m…

You know you’re tired when…

… you sit bolt upright in bed at 3a.m. (having been asleep for at least… an hour…) and realise you haven’t taken your lenses out. Lie in bed for five minutes debating with self over sleeping-with-them-in-and-risking-blindness-from-evil-infections vs heaving-self-out-of-warm-soft-comfy-snuggly-cosy-luvely-duvet-wrapped-bed-to-remove-them. Going Blind finally outranked Feeling Tired, so you stagger off to the bathroom. Peer blearily in the mirror and poke a finger in your eye, none too carefully. Ow. Burnies. Owowow. Hurts. Lots. Maybe you took the lenses out after all. Yep, that’d be them, there, sitting all neat and tidy in their case....