Sick child the morning after my Dad – babysitter-in-chief – goes away for a fortnight. Deputy-babysitter is also sick, so it means I have to ring in and have a day off work again. Mind you, rather pleasant to be at home and be able to get on with the kitchen, which you see I am busy doing right this very minute.
It helps me steel myself for Sunday. Tiddles is so horrendously behind with his homework that we have come up with a plan. He is to get up on Sunday as though it were a school day (albeit a school day starting with a swimming lesson), and get dressed in his school uniform. Then he is to make a start and work solidly all day, with a break to play on his new bike mid morning, and a break at lunch. Three lots of Literacy, two lots of Science, one lot of Numeracy and one lot of Art, together with reading and spellings, should keep the two of us busy for an fair few hours. Good job I have fobbed Smudgelet off on some unsuspecting friend for the day. Serves the pair of them right for having a teacher for a mother.
Got annoyed at Cycling Proficiency the other night. Tiddles had to have some adjustments done to his bike before he was allowed to take the test today, so I nipped up there with the toolbox and adjusted the brakes and raised the saddle. I was not impressed when one of the other mums said to my son “That’s awful, expecting your Mum to work on your bike. Where’s your Dad, it’s his job?” Didn’t hear my son’s reply, but I couldn’t decide whether to be crossest at the sexism of the comment or the fact that the stupid woman hadn’t considered the fact he may not have a dad.
Another tantrum this week from Tiddles after a late night trying to catch up with homework – the homework for cycling without which he would not be allowed to take the test. The tantrum was fun. Three hours’ worth. There was a classic moment, though. He was incessantly kicking the bedroom door, hard, from the inside. I was trying valiently (and successfully) to ignore him completely and calmly help Smudgelet with his homework (counting pennies). Eventually, though, I decided enough was enough and I went and gave the door a single good kick from the other side. It had the desired effect – he was silent for a good twenty minutes. I think it was the shock of seeing his mother’s foot come right through the door panel! Oooops! With Dad babysitting the following night I had to think quick….. I have covered the entire door with colouring posters for the boys to colour any time they have a spare minute! I’d better do one of them, though, as if they press too hard on that one, the pencil might go through the paper! 😉
We are supposed to be going over for a visit to the mainland tomorrow. Hope Smudgelet has stopped sticking his head down the toilet by then.
Right…. off to try my hand at tiling.