Sorry. The lazy gene has kicked in. I really couldn't be arsed with anything much last week so I made the brave decision to save you from my moaning and keep out of your way. I even stayed out of the house all day on Friday so that I didn't have to accept my Weight Watchers delivery. I was terrified of a man knocking at the door with 30 plus boxes that I couldn't possibly have managed to sort out and put away with my lacklustre spirit. I am sure they must be coming this Friday but I am mentally more prepared and might well let him in if I'm here.
The week was just incredibly tiring. K got his car - nice and luxurious but not a sports car or anything terribly exciting (that wasn't hard work obviously but I wanted to fill you in). I put on weight as predicted - two pounds if you count the last official weigh in and three and half pounds if you go by the unofficial weigh in I carried out myself (naturally I am going by the official one.) Even though I was expecting it, having weight gain confirmed is never a good feeling and I was resentful. The rest of Wednesday was uneventful until nearly five o'clock when one half of the elderly couple over the road knocked on the door to get the children - a not uncommon event - but it transpired today was unusual as I had forgotten their 60th Wedding Anniversary party. I didn't realise I had forgotten until I got over there in my wellies having left the front door open and the supper on the hob. The children were dutifully brilliant and ate their fruit cake quickly and G even had a conversation with one of the guests, but I was on edge knowing that not only was the spaghetti bolognese half cooked on the hob, the front door was open and Bea needed to be fed, dressed and ready for pick up and biking to Beavers by 5.45. Obviously I managed it all and I even got Bea to do a card after she finished eating and before pick up so she could deliver it the following day but it was stressful nonetheless.
Thursday evening saw much excitement with the oldies being picked up in a mini bus for their surprise meal out. All three children stood on the window sill watching the spectacle - Dennis in black tie and Gwennis (B called them Gwennis collectively when she was little which was terribly efficient of her but it has now stuck and we can no longer call Gwen anything but Gwennis) in all her finery and sparkly jewellery. Bea kept yelling 'what the dickens is going on here' out of the window - turns out the 'Dickens' was them being whisked off to a fancy celebratory meal at the Oxo tower.
Friday was spent out of the house avoiding delivery until after the school run. I picked up Bea to find her very sad and feeling sorry for herself as somehow we had managed to get the wrong spellings to practise over the half term which meant she had only got three out of ten in the spelling test and had spent the morning in tears because of it. (I felt hideously guilty and very upset myself - you know how seriously I take her spellings). Mercifully by the time we got home via the sweet shop she had switched from down in the dumps to hyper excited about the dress rehearsal for her ballet show at Catford Theatre that evening. As she was sitting eating her bland pasta and veg supper (quickest and easiest thing at short notice - I didn't realise the rehearsal started as early as it did) the extra boy's father arrived for pick up which annoyed Ted who got cross and started pushing him (him being 6 but no match for an angry Ted natch). I told Ted to leave the poor boy alone and pick on someone his own size and dispatched him to the playroom. As I shut the door behind the extra boy and his father an ear splitting scream emanated from the playroom. Once G was able to talk through the severe sobbing it turns out that Ted, currently trying to hide behind his hands, had walked in and found a peaceful G lying on the sofa and lifted a heavy battery filled plastic Buzz Lightyear and bought it down on my beautiful boy's head. Hard. As I cradled G in my arms I realised there was blood. All over his face and all over me. It took quite a while for the blood to stop flowing out of the relatively small gash but eventually it did and Bea even managed to finish her supper and step in to care for G so I could get the boy's supper on and Bea's things ready for yet another pick up. I was less ready to move on. I was so incredibly horrid to Ted for a very long time after the incident. He was sent to the naughty step immediately afterwards obviously. He sat there with his hands over his face for a long time and then tried to seek comfort from his sister. She ignored his pleas and sent him back again. Eventually after Bea left and the boys had eaten I did allow Ted to join us on the sofa where he attempted to apologise. He spent quite a while trying to cuddle me but finally caved in and cuddled G by way of an apology and even went so far as to kiss him. G was happy to reciprocate and for a few moments all was well. However such was Ted's excitement and relief at being forgiven he ran up and down the sofa in happiness and promptly fell over and smashed his head on the radiator. Both boys went to bed with healthy bumps on their heads. By the time K arrived home I was very happy to leave and spend some time alone driving to Victoria to pick up a second hand Henry hoover. Such is the glamour. (The broken hoover K fixed had never really done a great job and was even worse after its surgery so we have given up and gone Henry).
Saturday and Sunday saw us back and forth to Catford for the actual ballet performances. Bea was beyond happy with the whole process, backstage and onstage. I thought she was a very believable cat even if I do say so myself. Although in the show I saw on Saturday night she spent her entire onstage time looking for me through the harsh glare of the theatre lights. She carried out all of her dance moves perfectly and with a beautiful smile, but after each section of the dance she stopped to peer into the darkness beyond to find the familiar shape of her mother. She was obviously unable to see me but once came so precariously close to the edge of the stage I was sick with nerves that her first experience of theatre performance might actually be forever marred by her agonising injuries from a severe fall. Anyway, it was incredibly sweet and she was adorable naturally. Mercifully on Sunday when K was in the audience she just concentrated on the task in hand and was yet again a magnificently balletic cat.
I think that has just about caught you up. Although by filling you in I have tired myself out. Actually it's not all your fault, I stayed up stupidly late last night to watch Definitely Maybe. (Til nearly midnight - I was shocked). I am now totally and utterly in love with Ryan Reynolds. I was half in love with him after the brilliance of The Proposal but this has totally sealed the deal. I might even buy the soundtrack - you just can't beat a good rom com soundtrack. Must dash I have a date with Ryan in my dreams. Literally.