Categories: uncategorized
Date: 16 March 2005 16:59:32
It was a good idea, using Flylady tactics on the boys' room. I'd tried it before to little avail, but this time I made it competitive. Each child has an area of the room to get spotless and only fifteen minutes to do it - with immediate sweeties as a reward. They took a little while to get the general idea - they just cannot do it without coming out to ask me or comment to me about every little item they find. "Where do I put this, mum?" (wherever you like, son, as long as it's not in the middle of the floor!), "Look at this book I've found, isn't it interesting?" (You're wasting time son, you can read it afterwards while you eat your sweeties if you get any), "Do you remember when I made this, mum?" (Do you remember what you're supposed to be doing, son?)... they've obviously learnt their procrastination skills from the master :D Tiddles did manage to wangle an extension on the 15 minutes, mind, by falling over the book box and cutting his lip!
He's actually finally a lot better. He's given in and agreed to do the steam inhalations without me nagging him and, in desperation, I bought some white vinegar, raspberries and sugar and googled a recipe for raspberry vinegar. I'd scoured the town in search of some, totally in vain (although I did find a new source for my Green and Blacks chocolate which I aim to fully exploit after Lent), and decided that I would simply have to enlist said child and make some ourselves. Highly recommended as an expectorant cough medicine - a small amount drunk in some hot water.
Did I ever tell you about the time I kept some in a cough mixture bottle? In the middle of the night Tiddles was coughing so badly that I got up and, without really waking up, I poured him a dose of Tixylix to drink down from the medicine cup. Except it wasn't Tixylix. It was neat raspberry vinegar... as I remembered just as he swallowed a huge mouthful. I'll tell you one thing - he didn't dare cough again!
My journey to work is currently a delight and a bit traumatic. A pheasant has made his home by the side of the road. He's stunningly beautiful - such a wealth of rich colours and in very good condition. I've called him Andre. Don't ask me why! In fact, I sometimes wonder if he sees me pass in my green motor each morning and evening. Of course, the delight I feel at seeing him is always tempered by the premonition of doom that one day I will see him squished.
Massage class mock assessment next week so I'm frantically trying to memorise the routine. I was so desperate I even practised on Smudgelet, who managed to talk incessantly for the whole hour. And my Local Preacher Training tutor coming to visit me tomorrow too. Goodness, I'd better get a-house-cleaning myself. Do you think fifteen minutes would do it, if I don't fall over a book box?