Odd Things Happen

... and that's how a really good day took a bit of a downer. Read on...

So we went swimming me, the girl and the boy and that was good. And there was much praising from me for both of them. We get home and my OH has had to go out on call (she's still out now and won't be back until late, but that's by-the-by). We do a good lunch, we have a good play and then we go to the park (just the stuff for a 6 and almost 4 year old). And we take the scooters.

But first we (they!) play on the mini "adventure" park bit and have a right good time. Then it's time to go, and the kids are still having a good time. But on the way back to the car, the boy falls over, hurts his leg, and basically has all the fight knocked out of him. So instead of the scooters it's off home, for a drink, something to eat and a chill, before we brave going out again.

Now the girl takes this a bit badly, so when we get home I tell her we'll go out on the scooters later... I promise. Sadly not good enough! Because whilst I'm making them a drink she's gone upstairs and is sitting by his Car's movie picture with a pen, drawing glasses around each of the bloomin' cars on the poster. She shouts are me (alarmed) to go away as I say "I hope you are not doing what I think you are...".

So I give her time to finish/stop and when I come up stairs the next time, she's in the bathroom with the door locked. So I go about trying to rectify what she'd just done, managing to get most (but by no means all) of the glasses off. Eventually (whilst I was downstairs) she comes out of the bathroom and into her bedroom (with door shut). And after another five minutes or so I ask her to come and see me in my bedroom. This she does appearing with a hand written note saying (and I quote)...

"I am so so soory Daddy. I spos I shoud have to go to jaial!"

So she sits on the bed and we have a grown-up conversation about how what she'd done was a very bad thing (Cars is my boy's religion) and how, whilst I wasn't going to tell him yet (because I don't think I could cope with the consequences), she would have to go to bed early (earlier than her not-yet-four brother) for the next few nights and that she's no longer alowed pens in her bedroom. This she all takes with good grace, but she's clearly (and rightly) upset with what she'd done.

So there we are, a really uncharacteristic blot on her saintly record, the last time she did anything bad was... nope I can't remember, so may be every six years isn't so bad.

It must be how I pick them. we (my and herslef) went away a few weeks back for her birthday to Scarborough (lovely place, don't knock it until you've tried it). And our B&B had an "interesting" land lady shall we say. And she and I didn't really get on when I said (on the first morning) that I wanted poached egg on toast, not the full English she'd (her husband - the "chef") had cooked for me!

Well today I booked a B&B in Wolves for this swimming competition on Sunday, I don't want to drive down (before) first thing on Sunday so I surfed the good old Internet and found "Guest House X". And have duly booked with them, I probably shouldn't have since after ascertaining they'd got a room I then told them I wouldn't be there until late... "Well how late? 9, 10, 11...?" (stop please you're being silly) so I guessed some time between 8 and 9. But then we got on to breakfast.

On Sunday it's from 9:00, well that's no good because I want to be at the pool for 9:00. "Well 'they' don't get in until 8:30, you could have cereal then - but not a cooked breakfast...". But I don't want a cooked breakfast... I just want a bowl of muselea and a cup of tea...

I can see stress problems this weekend. Perhaps I should move up market...

Okay not great I know, but our first forray into home grown veggies has finally started to return. Over the past couple of months we've had five (yes count them) five small tomatoes. But today I went out and... a whole bowl full of the little red buggers - and (lots) more on the way.

So happy about this that I had to send my OH a photo-message whilst she's in Amsterdam!

Big day today. Just picked my girlie up from school and there she is sporting a "good spelling" sticker on her chest. She got 10-out-of-10 for her first spelling test, and is (rightly) very pleased about it! Got to keep her enthused about spelling so she doesn't end up like me, the presure's on for next week...!

I'm working from home today, because my OH is off to Amsterdam for the weekend with some friends. Anyhow I noticed a couple of days ago that one of my break lights had broken, so I asked her to get me one this morning before she set off (because she had to go to town). She duly came home with one and was amused by the customer service she got, because she's a "bird" I guess. Basically it was along the lines of "you've got to be careful luv, with this bulb and put it in the right way round, if you don't luv, then you could break it or worse your car's light cluster. If you want luv, bring your car in and we'll do it, okay luv...". You get the drift.

It's good to see male galentry is still alive and well. The thing he didn't/doesn't realise is that: my woman knows pleanty of stuff about cars and fixing them; her husband (me!) is actually going to fix it; and her husband (me) is generally pretty crap around cars - I can put the diesel in and know where to get it washed... enough said.

I wonder what'd happen if I rolled up (luv) in my car (luv) asking them to fit my bulb (luv) because my love's luv is rubbish at this sort of thing?!

Well not quite. I've been empowered by the latest(?) naff PC World advert. The one where some young female student's getting her dad to buy her a new laptop for college and when they've chosen one she says "Dad, you need a new external hard drive..." and off they go smiling happily.

Well it obviously effected me, because now I am trying to fill my disk with (all!) my CDs. Granted I only started yesterday, and today I've spnt most of the evening hopping between the lounge (where the pro-40 cricket is on) and the study (where I am slowling ripping my collection).

I am about to call it quits for the night. And I've got to... well halfway through the letter "C", and I am not doing my OH's CDs (is that right?!) at least not first off. That's not quite as bad as it sounds, because she's not got an MP3 player... may be Father Christmas will bring her one.

Today's been a very busy day. We bought our girl one of those half bunk bed things (the one with just a top bunk) and it arrived (flat pack) last Monday. And today was the day for putting it up. Before that we had to dismantle the boy's bed and move the girls old bed (partly dismantled) into his tiny (aka the box room) bedroom.

This took a bit of time as we got the bed stuck against the walls in the boy's room! However we managed it eventually. We also had to move his small wardrobe and pretty much everything else in and out to get it all done. By the end he was one happy bunny - much excited squealing and shouting.

Then it was on to her new bed and with my little girl helping we eventually managed it. The only thing we got wrong was the direction it should be facing. This was a bigger problem that it sounds because it was too big just to turn and needed that strange lifting and twisting and swearing routine to get it just so... However whilst they were being bathed I finally managed to sort the last piece out.

So they hurried out of the bath, kind of skipped supper and went straight to bed. I just hope she doesn't need a wee in the middle of the night because I can see that being a bit of a problem!!

Anyway it's amazing how happy kids can be when you through £200+ at them!! And now we can't move house ever again, unless we have to leave two beds in the rooms!

Oh am I "hacked" off at the moment? Nope, I think it's a touch worse than that... I got the short straw to take my boy to the "health visitor" today. Now he's missed/cancelled the last couple before the summer because he was "under the weather" and they pick times that just don't fit in with working parents. But today, working from home and 13:30, yes I could do it.

Now I don't like this whole process - because it ultimately upsets my little man. And today he was all enthusiastic about the process - until he remembered what it was actually all about... And I don't like my little boy in tears.

But the *!"!ing "health visitor" - well excuse me, but isn't it your job to interact with little people? Well she was pretty rubbish at that - which I could have excused, but what I can't excuse was some barbaric needle work - yes that made him cry/howl. But worse than that she didn't have any cotton wool in her surgery!!!!!!!!!??????? So out she went to find some whilst I sat there with a howling boy who has now noticed the lake of redstuff coming out of his arm. When she gets back his little bicep is pretty much covered as is my hand and, hey - what's that all over my thigh?!

Then she does his other jab, in the other arm. Equally well (badly!!) performed, more tears and more blood and more cotton wool - well more cotton wool eventually. So there's more blood trailing down his arm and on my trousers. "Oh, it looks like Daddy will have to change his trousers...". Yes it does - but Daddy shouldn't have to. And whilst my boy is howling and noticing the blood oozing down his arm, he starts noticing it on my clothes and my hands (whilst I am trying to hide that from him). "That blood shows how healthy you are...". Well excuse me but he's not even four, and he's upset because it (a) hurt and (b) he can see *his* blood all over the place and what he doesn't need to hear is that it is actually all over the place and on himself, his arm, my hands, my trousers... No, Mrs Bloomin' Health Vistor, he doesn't.

At the age of coming up to four people like you should be reinforcing the good aspects of hospital/doctors visits. It is possible, because the practice nurse did an excellent job on him last time. This "performance" was way, way, way below what I'd call an acceptable level - especially for a young child.

Mr Meldrew will be venting his splean this evening...