Yesterday was a very typical Thursday. Sausage woke up at 5am as he usually does, refused to go back to bed and wrecked his room for something to do whilst waiting for us to get up. I walked down from the attic and found a small mountain of stuff chucked over his safety gate, books, clothes, teddies, tons of stuff. I’d think it was funny apart from that I have to put his room back together every morning, and it’s downright dangerous walking across the landing. Horace slipped and nearly did his ankle in the other morning. I may have to put all his stuff in a box and winch it up to the ceiling every night so he can’t get at it.
To add insult to injury Sausage wandered over to me and handed me a shredded nappy with loads of fluff hanging out of it. I’m hoping he’s decided nappies are ‘bad’ and need destroying – and that he is just declaring his intention to do without them and be fully potty trained forthwith. Most likely he just thought they ripped in a very satisfactory manner and that it would wind his mum up a treat if he did it.
The kids were fed, watered, and dressed. Darlek’s brand new uniform skirt aged 6-7 looks far too short on her, despite her being only 5 so I reckon I’ll have to buy her another one. I really have bred a giantess. Sausage had approximately matching socks and sandals that showed them off beautifully, but both looked presentable enough and I dashed off on the school run. Darlek always wants me to or play tag on the way down the hill, which I do ocassionally do, Sausage laughs loads and shouts ‘tig’ enthusiastically while swiping at Daisy from his pushchair. I probably look a bit of a nutter running down the hill, pushing a pushchair, chasing Darlek and shouting ‘I’m gonna get you!’ but there you go! Most mornings I don’t as I’m knackered, but every now and then we have a real laugh on the walk to school.
I Spy is a popular school run game too, although D spots things with what she calls her ‘magic eye’, so she can spot camels, spaceships and all sorts of things I’ll never guess in a million years – especially when Camel can begin with a G for example.
Sausage and me rattled around the house for most of the day. I attempted housework and managed to clean the bathroom, oh joy of joys! (just a hint of sarcasm there) and hoovered and tidied the kitchen and was really rather bored. All of this was interspersed with the phrases ‘Do you want a poo?’ ‘Do you want a wee?’ ‘Remember, no pooing or weeing on Bob.’ Sausage wears Bob the Builder pull ups sometimes. Poor Bob has a rough time. I cannot wait for Sausage to be potty trained! Mostly I just put underpants on Sausage, as I think pull ups are just like nappies and make him less aware of when he’s weeing. The problem with this approach is it’s just downright messy. Put it this way, I think we need a new carpet. In fact I think we will celebrate Sausage’s potty training graduation by buying one.
Darlek went to her swimming lessons after school and did really well. Her cousin Teasal has been moved up to a more advanced class and she’s devestated at being left behind. There’s nothing like competition to spur a 5 year old on, she swam a whole length of half drowning backstroke and I felt so proud of her. While swimming she kept angling her head back to check I was watching her, which made the backstroke even more difficult for her.
I was a bad housewife so we had a chinese takeaway for tea, which was gorgeous. We often do on a Friday, as I get to the point where I feel like I’ve worked hard all week and deserve a break from cooking. The kids love it too, although S gets obsessed with dipping either prawn crackers or prawn toast in sauce, and almost refuses to eat anything else. We invariably end up putting anything with sauce with in it, out of his reach. Kids were covered in sauce, promised baths the next day, and then tucked into bed at abut 9pm.
My friend had a birthday do arranged for last night so I decided to be brave and actually venture out of the house, Horace kindly agreed to babysit. The only convenient alcohol I could find was a novelty bottle of real ale Horace got for Christmas, so cigarette and real ale in hand I trekked up the hill to find out where everyone was and what they were up to. This wasn’t a pub trip out kind of birthday do for a change, it was a bonfire, a sound system, and a sitting about in a field drinking and chatting kind of affair. Fantastic! About as close to a festival as I’ll get this year.
Problem was I couldn’t work out exactly where it was, although I tried to follow the boom, boom noise in the near distance. There was a bit of a comedy moment where I climbed over a stile and finally found everyone, problem being they were on the other side of a huge wall. I peeked over, shouted ‘Helloooo!’, scrambled up a bit, got the upper part of my body and the bottle of real ale over the wall, lost my footing and slithered back to the ground and into a huge pile of nettles. I must have looked ridiculous. Anyway, eventually I took a different route around the field and joined everyone.
Unfortunately I’d missed the sunset over the hills, but it was lovely to sit and watch the stars come out. There was a bit of discussion over what star was Mercury, and a lot of muttering and jokes made about the choice of venue. We were perched on the side of a hill, with a bit of a plateau at the bottom where the bonfire was. We were all gradually sliding down the hill and suggestions were made as to how most people would get home at the end of the evening – ie roly-polying down the hill, grass sledging etc.
Eventually I settled by the fire, which was a lot more level and easier to sit on, but a lot smokier. (My hair smells like a kipper this morning.)
The firelight, the silly conversations, catching up with people, the music…everything was all very festival like. I particularly loved the bit where some random bloke kept singing/ shouting along to the dub music, he favoured the phrase ‘Obadiah!’ and something to do with ‘Over Jordan’, although I’ve no idea why.
I got home at 1.30am after nearly fallilng on my arse several times whilst navigating the hill. I only had one small bottle of ale, and far too many cigarettes so do not deserve the hangover I seem to have landed myself with this morning. I got up with the kids this morning, so I think it might be a combination of early morning and lack of sleep. It was worth it though, a mini-festival thingumajig on the side of a Lancashire hill! Not exactly Glastonbury, but it’ll do for me!
On a completely random twist – I got my very first bit of t’internet ‘proper’ writing done yesterday. I’m doing reviews for OffersBoutique and found 5 gorgeous cropped denim jackets to write about. The link is here if anyone wants to have a look. Perfect festival fare clothing even if, like me, you can’t get to one. Just copy and paste this into your browser.