Daily Archives: June 26, 2007


I had been a bit worried by how non-commital and unenthusiastic he sounded on the phone.
Now the penny has dropped.
He’s a teenage boy and there were other people in the room.

Yesterday I had a proper talk with him and, apart from really missing us (a good thing), he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. And he was ringing to see if he could go out for the weekend to the home of one of his new friends who’s a weekly boarder (and who, conveniently, lives just across on the other side of the Solent).

Apparently he was going to write me a letter yesterday evening during prep, as he had no homework to do. Now, should I hold my breath in anticipation?

Photos to follow soon

My camera was loaded with photos.
it broke.


Not so good when your digital camera breaks, is it? Not so easy to retrieve the photos.

But last night an amazing thing happened. I mended it.
Photos will follow when I am less exasperated.

A story for Jennyanydots

I may have told you this before.

Jennyanydots was talking about the difficulty of being a slightly “different from normal” expectant mother in awaiting the arrival of a son or daughter who was slightly older than the average newborn! It reminded me of many events with my two, but especially one which happened before Smudgelet arrived into the family and when Tiddles had been with me only about a year.

We were visiting my very good friends and my goddaughters over in England – the first time we’d been to visit. It was a resounding success – Tiddles making a great hit with my goddaughters and the three of them getting on like a house on fire. On this particular day, my friend L took the younger daughter off to visit grandparents while I took my older goddaughter (aged about five) and Tiddles (about seven) to the park to play on the swings. The two were having great fun and, as children do, were pretending they were brother and sister as they played.

Along came an elderly gentleman with his 2-year-old granddaughter who was really quite agile and well-coordinated for one so small. The granddaughter, that is, not the elderly gentleman. He was somewhat less agile, though still rather well coordinated, and somewhat bigger than her. The three children played while I talked with the old man and expressed my amazement at how daring the little one was.

“She’s my only granddaughter. I don’t have anyone to compare her with, but yes, she does seem quite advanced to me. How old was your daughter when she first walked?”

I explained that H was not actually my daughter but was my goddaughter – although I was able to tell him that she’d been quite an early walker too. Just as I was explaining, H came running up and, continuing the game, shouted “mummy, mummy”. She insisted on calling me mummy and talked to me as though that were our relationship. Extremely embarrassing as I explained that the boy was mine and that they were pretending to be brother and sister.

“Ah, so that’s your son. How old was he when he started to walk then?”

Hmmmm……. so I have a girl I regard as my goddaughter, despite her insisting I’m her mother, and am able to recall almost to the day the first time she walked, and I have a boy that I claim is my son but have no idea about his development at all.. and he insists on referring to my goddaughter as “sis”.

I wonder why the elderly gentleman so suddenly swept up his granddaughter and left!

Out of puff

Don’t you just hate it when you’ve worked really hard on typing up something that you really didn’t want to write and which took blood, sweat and tears before you got the wording precisely how you wanted it…. only to find out that your printer’s out of ink?!

Still, at least I can email it to myself at work and print it out using their ink and paper (without the slightest smidgeon of guilt seeing as I print off enough stuff for school at home). I pulled myself together this evening (after getting an email from Flylady telling me it was anti-procrastination week) and wrote half a dozen begging letters to various charitable institutions which might consider helping with Tiddles’ school fees. Not something I enjoyed doing but I guess it’s doing wonders for my humility, of which I am very proud ;). I think the worst thing about asking people to help financially is that I then feel incredibly guilty that we’re going to France in the summer, even though I know it’s something that the boys and I need as a family and that it’s not really that much more expensive than a holiday at home.

I can’t use the same excuse for indulging in a Thorntons this afternoon, but Honorary Auntie M and I were both feeling rather fed up and decided that fed up friends needed feeding up. We both needed to go into town anyway, so it was a good excuse. She was fed up after being let down rather majorly by someone who’d volunteered to organise a big event and has dropped out at the last minute, I was fed up after a morning of teaching children who, quite frankly, did not want to make any effort whatsoever to do anything and did little all morning except moan and whinge and complain. “Do we have to do this?” “It’s too hard, I don’t get it” “I don’t want to use a dictionary, if you won’t tell me how to spell the word then I’ll just spell it wrong” “Why?” (sorry, remember to read this with the correct intonation – an elongated YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY which starts high, dips and then rises again) and the classic “I don’t do it the way you said, miss, I’ve got my own way. I’m stuck. I don’t want to listen to you saying to do it the way you taught us, I want you to explain to me how to do it my way, cos it’s better than yours.”