Half Term-inal

Bleak, that's what it's been.
A bleak half term.
Very little colour indoors.
Losing the will to live,
For you girls are fighting again.
In competition for my attention - good or bad.
I could have walked away this week.




It started well. With a visit from hilarity and dear friends. After they'd departed, well Esme you longed to have Alexandra back, and Sofia, you kept asking for Molly. (The dog). I pined for the fact that you children were entertained so lovingly the entire weekend. By others.

It didn't bode well. You were left slightly adrift. And with only me to help anchor you back down to some sort of normality, hard bloody work ensued. Aside from Wednesday.

Wednesday we invaded Arundel Castle - along with the Normans. Esme, you were an absolute delight that day. So were you Sofia, but you cunningly picked the precise time we approached the security guarded castle rooms to scream; surrounded by an awkward vibe tantrumount to small children being seen and not heard, emitting from a generation that can still manage to crush a 3YOs exasperated mother with one look, and attempt to hush a 3YOs high-pitched outburst with that same one look. (In fairness to you Fia, your drama was no doubt induced by the seriously good hot chocolate you'd knocked back before, complete with torture-inducing sprinkles). Yes the spacious gardens were better for us all. But mainly for your energy Sofia.

So far, the Autumn leaves have been spectacular. Allowed to linger with the mild temperatures and decent weather. What a shame my girls that you pick this season to decide you no longer enjoy walking in the woods. Yes that was the day you bleated endlessly that you wanted to go home. Such a joy.

The next day we intended to go for cake. I almost cancelled as the morning slanging match between you two ugly sisters was hideously complex. Far more complex than it ought to be for a just 6 and 3YO. Instead, I remembered last Summer, when I cancelled the blueberry picking outing down to your spoiled antics, and then wished I hadn't because I had wanted to do it.

Instead, you bucked up your ideas considerably. We planted spring bulbs and terrorised worm life in the process. Spring bulbs - which we all look forward to watching light up the garden in March. Or whenever... soon... goodness this climate change malarkey is not so unpredictable these days.

Anyway, I did say, 'let them eat cake' - as a result of the good banter that had ensued. I made far more of a mess than either of you, by dipping the camera in my cup of tea. Ha! I managed to soak up every last drop of tannin, totally. I was somewhat surprised that I was not wearing cream. You were gorgeously delicious the rest of the day and I decided cake has healing properties.

The following day was Halloween. It was spent organising. Cleaning. Buying. Preparing. Cooking. Creating. I think it was fun. I don't really remember as it went in a flash. All I know is that girls, you loved it, and that was my one mission. And the kids that came loved it, and that was my other mission. And the parents that came, I love.

A slightly soggy pumpkin is left and a hurricane of mess, oh and witch like orange finger nails that are now flying over my keyboard in this morning's sudden urge of literate flow. Probably because today is Saturday. And today Daddy is home. And today, there is peace.

Currently my girls, you are out on a bike ride. I hope you don't rush back. But then again I do. For it is as if the madness has been removed, and with it, your highly strung antics preceding Halloween this week.

Monday is an inset day. A duvet day. I hope we enjoy each other wrapped in warmth, quietly happy before your return to nursery and school.

The bitching is such a drag. The loveliness is not.

FOOTNOTE
I know you cannot be good all of the time. But a little more of the time would be nice.