I am not used to this coastal microclimate. We started the day with baking sunshine, so I advised the children to get their playing outside done early so they could retreat to a dvd later, and made sure that I got two loads of washing down and out on the line quickly. Despite the sunshine, I could hear the foghorns blaring.
Still, it was warm this morning. The children finished off the morning making cards for L (her birthday tomorrow). Small put lots of effort into his, as he always does, but it differed from his usual pen drawn ones in that he used various stick ons instead. Then shortly after lunch the sun disappeared and the fog rolled in. Very odd. Still, it was cool enough for the children to play outside without me worrying about them overheating, so that was good.
They still managed to fit in another film this afternoon, in between the Federer and the Murray matches. Ice Age
this time, first time I’d seen it. And then it was time to get Small ready for Beavers, where he was due to be invested tonight. While he had a snack, Big decided she would write in her diary. I had no idea that that could be so traumatic either, and I rather lost patience after both Tim and I had offered a number of solutions to her self-created problems, all of which she discarded as unsuitable.
I knew that we were going to have a rough day or two following the excitement of having L here for several days, but I had no idea that Big was going to fabricate problems to this extent. The diary is her own choice and her own requirement, I haven’t asked to read it (maybe I’m supposed to have done?!) nor have I commented on how much she is writing or how often. It is her project and hers alone. Despite this, she broke down in hysterical wailing as she’s got behind, can’t remember what happened when, and doesn’t have time to do it.
We’ll try to ignore the two bouts of film watching I pointed out that she could have skipped. Or that she can write it while listening to the audio book on an evening. Or pass over Tim’s suggestion of setting aside 10 minutes a day as part of a regular routine because all of these ideas just meant “you don’t understand!”
No, I don’t. And I ran out of energy, so we all went to Beavers instead and took photos of Small being invested. He looked ever so small, but I did notice once again that he actually seems to behave better than the majority of boys in the group. Probably why Brown Beaver doesn’t seem to understand my concern about his self-expressed shyness (Small, shy? Many other adjectives spring to mind, but I’ve never used the word shy in relation to him!) or about how he would cope at an all day fun day. She thinks he’ll be fine and promises to call if he doesn’t seem to be coping, but this is another example of if you haven’t seen him in action, you really can’t imagine what you are letting yourself in for.
Sigh. I don’t want to stop him going and having fun, I just don’t want anything to go wrong while he’s there. Bleargh.
Tim and Big walked home from Beavers following the investment and I brought Small home at the end of the group, following my less than effective conversation with Brown Beaver. Children processed into bed, and Tim and I have watched the Murray match.
And now I’m going to bed. Tomorrow there will be more ranting, as well as a library trip and a midwife appt.
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