Mother's Day was lovely. Boiled egg and soilders in bed - who could ask for more. In the week leading up to Mother's Day I often made a detour to a local shop who had run a mother's day portrait competition. The pictures always made me smile. What smiley mummies we have herabouts.
It's half term and we are now over half way through the week. Usually at this point I am breathing a sigh of relief that I've made it this far but today I'm feeling a little sad that it's going so fast. We have had a ball - enjoying the fabulous city we live in. The sun came out and it started to feel like spring might be coming.
I've probably jinxed the rest of the week by saying it's going so well but I take the last few days and hold onto them whem things aren't so smooth. Like a few weeks time when I'm trying to sort out costumes for book week!
As my children grow I realise that however much we all enjoy the hurlyburly of family life we all need a little one on one time and so I try really hard to make it happen.
Sometimes it's a treat while everyone else is busy. Other times it just sharing a few minutes, catching up with out competing with everyone else's news or needs.
I sometimes complain that I feel like a hamster on a wheel.
Trapped in endless cycle of school runs, and shopping and cooking and laundry and cleaning and tidying. Last night after a particularly tedious day my husband listended patiently and then said
"the hamster runs on the wheel because he likes it. He is not trappped. He can get off anytime and do something else."
And so I have resolved to get off and do something else for at least part of every day even if it's only a cup of tea with a friend. I do feel guilty when I moan because as my family point out I am the one who cares most about all these things.
We went to the Tate Modern on Saturday. It was a glorious sunny day - perfect for a stroll along the Southbank and a visit to the Tate. It's a great place for children - lots of activities for them to do and some great pictures too. The children chose their favourite picture from what we had seen that day. My sweet, gentle sensitive son choose Andy Warhol's Gun 1981. Boys do seem naturally attracted to such things. I grew up in Northern Ireland in the 1970s and so not surprisingly am anti-gun. I was keen to not to have toy guns introduced to my children but it does seem that boys can turn anything into a weapon - a stick found in the woods, the floor brush or a wooden spoon. I have become less anxious about the whole gun as toy thing and I think that's partly because the children are old enough to talk to about my childhood and my views on guns.
I still feel uncomfortable about J's choice though.
We are well and truly in holiday mode now. The end of term was to be honest completely exhausting. This was the first year I'd had two schools worth of sports day, concerts, parents evenings and the rest. Both schools seemed to have lots going on at the end of term and that combined with being ill made it all very hard work. I usually try to make something simple and handmade for the teachers but this year it simply wasn't possible. But every cloud has a silver lining and it meant that I found these beautiful mugs from a great charity called ARTHOUSE Meath.
I did manage at least to make personalized cards for the teachers. A good lesson not to leave things to the last minute.
Do teachers drink green tea? By the end of term some of them look in need of something a little stronger.
I saw a fabulous post over at quilt while you're ahead. Monica, another book lover, has given up a meticulous system of book organisation and sorted her books by colour. The effect is beautiful. I would love to be so brave. In our house we have organised the books by subject and/or author. The system and it's in-built idiosyncrasies have evolved over fourteen years of marriage and three house moves.
PS - I will show him the second photo as evidence that he doesn't always put the books where they should be. I mean to say The Spanish Civil War smack in the middle of American political autobiographies tsk tsk.
I couldn't write about the day without a picture of the merry-go-round.
P.S. The title of the post comes from a song I remember from my childhood but I must point out for the sake of vanity that the film from whence the song came was made BEFORE I was born.
There came a point sometime ago when any inquiry about how the the school day was greeted with a single OK from my beloved eldest daughter. Overtime I came up with a strategy. I asked her to say what the best and worst thing about the day were. It's something I've continued with all the children and it's been a great way to get the children to talk about their day.
However there are some days when the answers are hard to hear. It's an evening when I have to take a deep breath and prepare to send my dear boy back to school because as I know from the answers to my daily questions this will pass and there will be days soon when I'm overwhelmed with a list of all great things that happened that day.
Our half term holiday was a great success and the garden largely survived my absence. (There was one exception but I will save that moan for another time.) The sun came out and N announced that her feet were happy feet now they were back in her crocs. We had lots of lovely days on the beach but managed to drag ourselves away to visit the magnificent Forde Abbey.
The house was originally a Cistercian monastery and has been added to by the families who have lived there in the hundreds of years since the dissolution of the monastery in 1539. It's a lovely house to look round. There is a wonderful sense of it still being a family home unlike some of those houses which seem to have picked a point in history and preserved it behind heavy red ropes and no entry signs.
There are also 30 acres of beautiful gardens with three huge ponds - one of then dating back to monastic times, and a great letterbox trail which the children really enjoyed. A is nearly 12 now and it's great to see her still enjoying chasing round and rolling down hills with her younger siblings.
I also came away with some serious greenhouse envy. Mr W is worried.
