I have the flu... It's official! And it is the worst case ever recorded by man... Or me anyway...
Do my family care? Not a jot... No, they still need feeding, sending to school, taking to football club, picking up from after school club... And then need feeding again. Do they thank me for my trouble? No, they simply complain that my constant sneezing is interrupting their televisual pleasure... So I 'accidentally' allowed my snot to drip into their baked beans... Before you call social services, I made that last bit up... But it's what I would have done if I had been treated like that by any of my customers in my days waiting tables as a struggling actor. As a struggling parent, I simply nodded and laughed it off before going upstairs to cry quietly in the bathroom.
This weekend saw us packing in preparation for our move on Friday. We are having people in to do the main packing but I wanted to allow the children to pack their own 'precious' items. Their toys, bears, favourite pictures etc all went into big boxes which the kids then sealed and wrote on. It's important for them to be involved in the moving process as they have moved so many times in their little lives and usually to a different family member, foster carer or eventually to us, so it is obviously a traumatic time for them. I also took the opportunity to pack some of our breakables. KC is currently obsessed by antique programmes and as I was wrapping a few bits up he asked if they were valuable. 'Not really," I replied, " But they are valuable to me."
"Is that because they are old?" he asked. "Yes, " I replied. He went on, "And old things are valuable?" "Sometimes," I told him.... He thought about this for a second and then said, "Then Granny must be worth loads!" ... I won't be telling my Mother that bit.
Luckily, Mum is away with her sister and some girlfriends on an alcohol fuelled week in Wales. She has told me that she as no phone connection while she is away, so I am unable to call for packing advice, stress relief or begging her to take the kids off my hands! Even asbo dog has gone into the kennels, so it must be a seriously alcoholic trip....
Little Lord Fauntleroy made an appearance this morning. I got the boys up for breakfast... KC came down as usual but there was no sign of TJ. I shouted up the stairs that breakfast was ready to which I received the reply, "I would like my breakfast in bed please... Bacon and eggs!" I am sure he has been secretly watching Downton Abbey... Needless to say he was soon downstairs munching his cereal when he realised that his valet was on strike and nothing was coming up the stairs. He then noticed my cold... And started to cough. "I'm too sick to go to school today, Daddy," he said. "Oh dear," I replied, "that's a shame as its football club today." He stopped coughing and then said, " I think I will manage today... But I shall definitely be too sick to go tomorrow." I nodded and got them both ready for school.
Do my family care? Not a jot... No, they still need feeding, sending to school, taking to football club, picking up from after school club... And then need feeding again. Do they thank me for my trouble? No, they simply complain that my constant sneezing is interrupting their televisual pleasure... So I 'accidentally' allowed my snot to drip into their baked beans... Before you call social services, I made that last bit up... But it's what I would have done if I had been treated like that by any of my customers in my days waiting tables as a struggling actor. As a struggling parent, I simply nodded and laughed it off before going upstairs to cry quietly in the bathroom.
This weekend saw us packing in preparation for our move on Friday. We are having people in to do the main packing but I wanted to allow the children to pack their own 'precious' items. Their toys, bears, favourite pictures etc all went into big boxes which the kids then sealed and wrote on. It's important for them to be involved in the moving process as they have moved so many times in their little lives and usually to a different family member, foster carer or eventually to us, so it is obviously a traumatic time for them. I also took the opportunity to pack some of our breakables. KC is currently obsessed by antique programmes and as I was wrapping a few bits up he asked if they were valuable. 'Not really," I replied, " But they are valuable to me."
"Is that because they are old?" he asked. "Yes, " I replied. He went on, "And old things are valuable?" "Sometimes," I told him.... He thought about this for a second and then said, "Then Granny must be worth loads!" ... I won't be telling my Mother that bit.
Luckily, Mum is away with her sister and some girlfriends on an alcohol fuelled week in Wales. She has told me that she as no phone connection while she is away, so I am unable to call for packing advice, stress relief or begging her to take the kids off my hands! Even asbo dog has gone into the kennels, so it must be a seriously alcoholic trip....
Little Lord Fauntleroy made an appearance this morning. I got the boys up for breakfast... KC came down as usual but there was no sign of TJ. I shouted up the stairs that breakfast was ready to which I received the reply, "I would like my breakfast in bed please... Bacon and eggs!" I am sure he has been secretly watching Downton Abbey... Needless to say he was soon downstairs munching his cereal when he realised that his valet was on strike and nothing was coming up the stairs. He then noticed my cold... And started to cough. "I'm too sick to go to school today, Daddy," he said. "Oh dear," I replied, "that's a shame as its football club today." He stopped coughing and then said, " I think I will manage today... But I shall definitely be too sick to go tomorrow." I nodded and got them both ready for school.
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