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Tuesday 30 August 2011

Stop bickering!

What I really don't understand is why you all feel the need to keep kicking and nudging on long (over five minutes) car journeys. It would be so much nicer for you not to be told off, surely? And who can ever win an argument about which bit of air belongs to them?

Why not walk quietly around Asda, and then we will leave and do something fun? Jumping and chasing, hiding in aisles etc is all very well, but it takes time. And then you get told off. (Can you see a pattern forming here?)

Actually, I would really like to leave a supermarket without the sympathetic passing shot from the cashier - "Not long now, nearly the start of school?"

Monday 22 August 2011

Sad Lonely Grapes

Sooooo, I think I need to write this down. When you make your little grapes/ biscuits/ peas 'walk' around the plate, squeaking in terror ('Please don't eat me; I'm only a baby') I feel, as a mother, sad for the Mummy Grape/ Biscuit/ Pea. That is why I sometimes snap at you to stop messing with your food. Because I am a crazy, sad grieving person, thinking of the poor mummy waiting for her little grape to come home. And getting eaten instead.

Monday 15 August 2011

Homework?

B - not being funny, or mean, but just really hope you haven't forgotten about Martin Luther King. Friends reruns are great, but not essential to the Summer.

Friday 12 August 2011

Dear Kids, to the left is a photo of Mummy. Not Granny, not Auntie K, not the lady opposite. I'm not quite sure how having my hair highlighted could have caused this much confusion, but I am dreading what will happen when I eventually pluck up the courage (and raid the Christmas fund) to have Botox.

I am really surprised that you would find it hard to tell the difference between me, the person who has been ever present, and my non identical sister who you have only just seen again after two years. She is also beautifully tanned, and has dark hair. As she is younger and more glamorous, I'm not too worried.

The really weird thing is not being able to tell me apart from Granny or Auntie K in the photos - particularly your (wrong) impression that I was also married to Uncle T. I am glad that we have corrected that misunderstanding, and that you no longer need to be worried about Daddy.

Homework. Now!

B - I would just like to remind you that Martin Luther King's biography won't write itself.

Thursday 11 August 2011

Dressing Up

It was so funny taking you out yesterday dressed as smurfs. I just want you to know that I find that as much fun as you do. Poor B, strolling casually several feet behind us - I remember taking Snow White to Asda not so long ago! I'm so glad that I have learnt not to be embarrassed by this stuff - so what if you are painted blue and wearing little caps? This time won't last long - soon you'll be dragging me away from clothing shops, begging me to let you choose your own outfits. It's great that, for now, I can produce a cat mask from a bag and brighten up your day.
Sorry I got a bit stressed about the make up - by the time I'd painted you to your exact requirements, I really couldn't bear to see it smudged. You were very brave, Lelly, holding back the tears after Number One Son opened the door on to you. That's the spirit!

Saturday 6 August 2011

Castle? Check

I know that it must be hard to understand that spending my last five pounds on a boat trip and not an ice cream was a good idea. Mummy is trying to teach you that experiences and not expenses are important. Plus, two quid a scoop is outrageous!

Sofa Sogood....

Boys, I know that this is how you would like to spend your holidays (sofa, food, television) but the unwritten and universally understood rules of the Summer holidays insist that you see daylight and fresh air. Secretly, I would quite like to quietly do the housework, sort all my paperwork out, but stuff online, while you zone out in front of Cartoon Network. We cannot go back to work and school without a couple of exciting outings to mention. You don't know it, but I am taking half of you to Batman Live soon. We need more. Today, we do a castle.   


Thursday 4 August 2011

My Ageing Appearance

Actually, Lelly, I would just like to let you know that I do not have 'Ha ha ha, hair like a granny'; I have hair like somebody who can no longer afford £80 every six weeks. Most other mummies probably don't have lovely shiny hair without a bit of extra help. I can't really win, can I? Do you remember when I bought the hair dye and you hid under the table as I looked 'like a witch, tee hee'?

Wednesday 3 August 2011

The Beach and a Bit About the Blog


So, my small and not so small children, I have decided to create a blog. I like the idea of writing to you, explaining my response to the day, and maybe (when in years to come you do an internet search on me/you) why I acted like a snappy dragon (hence the name!) on certain occasions.

With four of you, a job, and Daddy, I have quite a bit to get on with, and I can't promise you'll find my views on everything here - sometimes it's just a no, with no deep and meaningful behind it. Those would be the times you don't get biscuits for breakfast, to watch an 18 (no matter that all of your friends have seen it...hmmmm), or to invite all your friends to Disneyland Paris for your birthdays. That sort of thing.

On the other hand, maybe I can let slip to you all those things you have no idea about - the times I stand in the doorway of your rooms at night, just waiting to hear you breathing before I can go to sleep myself. You all look quite lovely then; it's nice to end the day pleased that all is well (and asleep and not fighting over the remote control...)

Let's start with yesterday. With hindsight, I should have shown more interest in the hundreds and thousands of pebbles on the beach. It's just quite hard to concentrate on looking for the zebra pattern on a lump of stone while trying to make sure your siblings don't throw themselves into the sea.

Also, after a while*, 'treasure' is redefined as old rusty bottle tops, and bits of sharp glass. When you are a boring grown up, it's easier to focus too much on the risk assessment of picking up old bottles, and not enough on the shininess of them.

*two hours

I'm sorry about the sand throwing Number One Son; trouble is you can't 'even up the score' once you've been asked to stop throwing. It may well have been started by the other little girl, but even if she had got two more throws in by the time you were told to stop, that's just tough. I couldn't let you throw a couple of handfuls to make it 'fair'.

I have to say, watching you all dozing off, sun kissed and sandy, in the back of the car is another of those hundreds of happy moments I'm glad about.