First Week Back

Hi guys; well done on getting to Friday - only one homework tantrum (B - you know what I'm talking about) and no late mornings. Phew. When you are a parent, sometimes you want to be kind of invisible at the start of term - you know, letting the teachers get on with it before asking them loads of stuff. That's probably the only area we could have improved on.

Next term, Monster, leave Lelly's glasses alone, and try not to drop them the night before school. It meant he had a letter for his teacher on the first day. And Lelly, TRY to remember that you are in Year 2 now, and stop queuing up for your old class/ leaving your lunch box there etc - your new teacher might think you are trying to tell her something!

Congratulations, Number One Son, on contracting both a vomiting bug and a fungal infection (nice) - your first week has been more like half a week. Don't try that when you get a job...

But, it's Friday mornng, and I can't wait for my four to come back tonight - it's been very quiet without you.

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?"

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.

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.

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.

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!