Horrible week...

Hi guys, and sorry not to have written to you recently. What a horrible few days this has been. Mummy is really sad about Granny dying, and I am so proud of you for drawing the pictures for her coffin. I'm sorry I was a bit snappy at first - it was the last thing you could do for Granny, and I was a bit surprised that you thought she would like sheets of paper covered with animal stickers and glue. Your second attempts were gorgeous - Number One Son, you made me cry with your instructions to God to be good to Granny.

It seems like Daddy did a really good job while B and I were away - pizza boxes not withstanding!

Birthday surprises

B - I really wish I could show you all the cute stuff we bought yesterday to do your room! After you said you'd like it done for your birthday, Daddy and I went shopping and chose paper, bed linen and it's all hidden away. I really want to show you! See, grown ups get excited too!

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.