Sunday, 13 March 2011


Friday night was indeed fun when I finally arrived. Ladbroke Grove is a jolly long way away though and they are ridiculously precious about their parking there so I had to walk quite far in the heels I hadn't planned on doing anything in but sit and eat.  Little sis greeted me on arrival and was once again impossibly glamorous and buffed and polished to within an inch of her false lashes after spending the whole day being beautified. I was not and also had the wrong outfit on. Still, the food was absolutely amazing (wisely played it safe with fish not pizza) so I soon forgot about the outfit and even better than the food were her boyfriend's friends who believed me to be the younger sister! I have been happy about that all weekend. I may even adjust all official forms and have a big 30th this year.  (They were NOT just being polite should you have mean thoughts - they told her after I had left so it MUST be true).

Back in the days when we were childless, weekends were a time to rest, recuperate, drink and eat too much and generally get on with things a week's work hadn't allowed. Now quite the reverse is true. I spend quite a chilled five days dropping children off at school for a few hours respite and then with the three school runs the day requires (George is at nursery which ends at midday) there is a structure and activity to the day which takes us up to bedtime quite easily. However at the weekend it is entirely down to me. The two days require full on parenting and organising of activities, breaking up of fights and having a definite 'plan' for how the 48 hours will play out, particularly on the Saturdays K is working. By Sunday night I get that 'Friday night' feeling and start on the wine knowing that the following day will be infinitely easier.
This weekend was no exception. The initial jubilation at not having to get out of bed and out for the first school run by 8.50 quickly wears off as the fighting and mess making begins. Of course this weekend had a sick Ted in it so I spent most of Saturday with him clinging to me whilst trying to carry on normal duties. He is only just on the road to recovery although he is miserably still unable to tolerate milk. I hadn't realised quite how much I relied upon the white stuff to get him to do what I wanted. In desperation to get him to sleep tonight I resorted to watering it down but that hasn't worked and now there is another pile of washing in front of the machine. He is point blank refusing to take juice as a substitute. Unless it is in a pint glass.

Today started badly - Ted woke up covered head to toe in a rash. I immediately assumed he had measles (huge boat loads of guilt for not having taken him for his MMR yet - minus mummy points) and made an emergency Doctor's appointment before my very level headed and sleepy sister (it was 7.30am - who the hell isn't up at that time?) told me to get a grip and that it was far more likely to be a post-viral rash. It would seem she was right as five minutes later he was up at the table eating grapes and tomatoes (his choice not mine) and threatening Bea with a knife and definitely not suffering from a life threatening illness. 

The day improved significantly with the arrival of my friends for a girly lunch. I very, very rarely have people over. I'm not really sure why. I think it's something to do with me feeling not grown up enough to be 'entertaining'.  That is what my mother did, and obviously she did it properly. She is an amazing cook and seems to have learnt the art of entertaining somewhere along the lines that I managed to miss. Luckily most of my good friends are aware they have to bring their own drink and usually pour it themselves.  I even made a new year's resolution to be a grown up last year. It didn't work. It is more than a little ironic that I seem to have spent my entire life wanting to be a 'grown up' - I was quite keen to have children from the age of 8 and tried to persuade boyfriends to marry me from 17 - and yet now that I have the marriage, children and mortgage I craved I am totally incapable of growing up enough to manage my finances, have people over for meals or indeed take children to the Doctors for vital life saving jabs.

I have to go now as I've had two glasses of wine and can't think straight.

A demain x

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