I’ve forgotton how to blog, I can never remember if I’ve mentioned something already or if it has happened since I last blogged. So it’s back to lists until I remember how to fill them in a bit more.
Today was day two of Ms Rs week long swimming course. Yesterday she did okay, today she excelled. She swam across holding one of those small rectangle floats in front of her, then she swam across holding it with just one arm, she swam back with it under the other arm and then she put it down and swam across completely independantly. It was quite amazing to see. She raced across like a torpedo and was most surprised to find herself at the other side. So proud she was she nearly jumped right out of the pool and for a good few minutes afterwards she bounced around waving at me and giving me thumbs up. She was then told to show everyone how to float face down which she did wonderfully even she’d never done it before although she told me afterwards she expected to sink and drown. I’ve been getting in after the lessons with Master R so that he gets a chance to splash around. His getting very water confident, enjoys coming down the slide and uses his hands to crab walk back to the steps.
We saw my grandparents who I find quite inspirational, they make being old look great fun. We discussed things like make-up, fashion trends and their recent spur of the moment daytrip to the Isle of Wight. I think my Grandad is a bit confused about the not going to school thing although thats probably because I’ve not mentioned much about it. The way Grandma parented probably didn’t have a label back in the 1950s but I reckon if ever our conversations turned onto more serious subjects she’d be totally for autonomy and attachment.
We shopped. Master R had been treating me as a punch bag all through the day. Ignoring it, instantly meeting his needs and speaking in soothing tones about being gentle doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. It was at the checkout just after I discovered the milk had a leak that I lost it. It wasn’t just a punch, it was now a box (right, left, right) so I said ‘No’ rather too loudly for my own good and then with a clenched fist I made contact with his shoulder. No. I didn’t punch him, it wasn’t a hit or even a hurt, it was just my closed hand resting on him. However, he didn’t see it that way and shared the full extent of his lungs. The five children at the next checkout stared with wide eyes and gaping mouths. And just in case there was anyone in the supermarket who wasn’t quite sure what all the fuss was about Ms R started yelling at me that I mustn’t punch my little boy. Thank goodness it is school holidays, judging by the cashiers response similiar scenes had probably been playing out all day.
The library trip went better, partly helped by the fact that we went a day earlier than usual and it was actually open. The Rs sat at a table and chatted to the librarian about the books they’ve read. I wasn’t sure if I should hover over to prompt them and translate or if it was better to keep out of the way. I opted to keep out of the way but was in earshot so heard Ms R reading out her favourite bits of a book and then heard her prompting Master R who quickly got the hang of talking for himself although there was a slight disagreement about whether he had actually read it all by himself or not as he was claiming. Ms R chose a book and read the title out loud to herself as ‘I want my little on’. I read it back to her as ‘I want my light on’.
A quick trip to the post office restored my smugness and gave my children the chance to stare wide eyed and gaping mouthed at someone elses bad Mummy.
Yesterday we visited friends who had kindly made birthday cards and yummy cakes with candles. Ms R stropped about a bit inbetween having the best time ever and is really looking forward to next time even though at one point she exclaimed loudly that ‘They are the worst kids in the whole world’. Lets all hope that she doesn’t make it into world politics. I’m hoping that she’ll learn some self control and tact sometime soon.
Master R got stung by something, possibly a bee. I expected being stung by a bee to be a lot worse than it was, obviously I wasn’t the one in pain but after Neurophen and a good nights sleep it’s been forgotton.
Sunday was my birthday celebration. We opened my presents, bathed in them, spent it, ate some, visited my Mum and my Nana and then the Rs had a late night. They get as excited over other peoples as they do their own.
The fish wasn’t dead which made it a little easier on me as I only needed to tell Ms R it was sick. She said she thought it was dead when she saw it laying on the bottom but then realised it couldn’t have been because it’s eyes were still open. By bedtime though it was dead and she expressed a bit of sadness but I think this was more to delay going to sleep than genuine grief. I asked her if she wanted me to deal with it which she did (so it went down the loo), she hasn’t asked yet where I put it, maybe she won’t. Poor little fish, like I don’t already have enough to feel guilty about.