Categories: uncategorized
Date: 14 September 2004 16:07:42
Typical - I got myself up extra early this morning, totally focussed upon starting the day smoothly and without a rush. You know, those missing fifteen minutes of a morning (because Smudgelet now goes to the childminder instead of just over to Dad's) together with ten minutes popping over to make sure Dad's OK, they make a tremendous difference to our morning routine. It's go, go, go. The last few days I'd got irritable with the boys because we were on the last minute, so this morning I decided to bite the bullet and set my alarm twenty minutes earlier.
It was a beautiful plan. It could have worked so so well.
First of all Charlie decides to bring a bird home. A young blackbird, it was, and still valiently struggling. I recognised it instantly - it was the rather bald looking one I'd rescued from him yesterday. I locked Charlie in the lounge and caught hold of young blackie - who was a real fighter and nowhere near defeated, but too weak and badly damaged to be released. He sat quite calmly in my cupped hands, waiting to see what I was going to do. He wasn't the only one - I was rather stumped as to what I was going to do myself. Suddenly I remembered we had a shoebox by the shoerack where we'd brought Tiddles' football boots home, so I dispatched said child to fetch it. He came, shoebox in hand - so I sent him back to fetch the lid he'd so thoughtfully removed from it!
Next stage - line the box to make a comfortable resting place in our makeshift blackbird-hospice. This was Smudgelet's job. Hmm, no, don't fold the tissue paper, scrunch it up a bit. No, don't screw the paper up, scrunch it up lightly to make it a bit crinkly. No, don't fold it. No, Just crinkle it up - you know what crinkle means, don't you? So Tiddles takes over in desperation and shows him how to fold it neatly like a napkin. NO - CRINKLE IT UP A BIT! In the end I hold the bird tightly to my chest in one hand (nearly suffocating the poor thing - I must lose some weight!) and demonstrated.
Meanwhile Tiddles is making some holes in the top of the shoebox. Attempt one - fork. No, child, use a knife. So, ever sensible of the dangers of sharp knives, he decides to us a round-bladed dinner knife. "It won't go through!" he cries. Just as well, really, as he has his hand underneath it! I explain that the knife needs to have a point to go through the cardboard - so he grabs the carving knife and waves it through the air, inches away from Smudgelet's nose. "Is this the one?"
Amazingly I get the bird into the box without any major injury to any of the humans involved in the process. I deliver the box to a place of safety - my room - where it can die in peace. Over to Grandad's to make him a cup of tea and make sure he's OK for the morning ahead, and what happens? I return to find two boys still not started their breakfast because they're fighting - Smudgelet had apparently been saying "Blah blah blah" under his breath, Tiddles had asked him to stop because he had a headache, and Smudgelet had shouted it in his ear. Oh bliss, oh joy - and it's time to drop everything and race out to the childminder's - the boys still arguing over who had upset whom.
School passed relatively without tragedy, apart from me making a little girl cry. She's a nice little girl, but one of these who's totally oblivious to the existance of anyone else in the world. She talked her way through my lesson, kindly occasionally letting me get a word in edgeways. When she insisted on holding a conversation with me while I was trying to conduct a 30-second test, I finally cracked and sent her to stand outside while I did the test again (having lost count of the time). This, of course, is NOT ALLOWED! I had broken our new rule - I hadn't called Behaviour Support to withdraw her from the room for 30 seconds! Of course, the deputy head happened to walk past at that very moment, saw said child in floods of tears, and called to me (who was standing just the other side of the open door) to ask what was the matter - thus totally distracting me and the class from our 30 second test yet again!!!
Home to make lunch for Dad. This went without mishap - apart, of course, for the district nurse turning up just as I'd dished it up, and Dad chatting with her for so long that it was 2pm before we got anything to eat! But she was lovely, and very reassuring. Dad's feeling a lot more positive today, and in a lot less pain. The District Nurse offered to come and see him each week, just so he knew he had nothing to worry about, and he was delighted to know she'd be there to share a cuppa with him. It's hard to know whether to say for her to go when I'm there so that I can discuss things with her, or when I'm not there so that he gets the extra bit of company. He's definitely getting very forgetful - he couldn't remember that he'd had any of the problems that had made us call the nurse and the doctor in a hurry last week! Still, what a life, if you can't remember any problems :)
Now I'm getting ready for my massage class. Can't wait! Wonder what we'll be on to next!