Sunday Morning

Last night I dreamt that I had a huge spot on my chin.
Then I woke up this morning and found a huge spot on my chin.
Weird. And a little bit spooky.

And frankly, what the hell is going on? getting spots at 40?

Nobby came into the bedroom this morning and said,
'Do you want the good news or the bad news?'
Uh-oh.

'The good news is it's 9.15 so we haven't laid-in half the morning.
The bad news is the clocks when forward last night so it's really 10.15am and we've laid in half the morning.''

Isn't that just slap-you-in-the-face fantastic?!

Kids eh?!

Well, Pickle didn't get the answer to his question but I imagine his teacher may be asking a similar question with a twist, as I had cause to do earlier today:

'why can't the kids do what I like during Science class?'

It was a Biology lesson about life cycles but it contained more tangents than a geometry masterclass. Sheesh. I remember doing it myself at school and I suppose I should just be grateful I'm not teaching them sex education: I recall very clearly the lesson when my friends and I decided to side-track Miss Nervous McBlush with the classic 'what's an orgasm?' Poor woman could have guided planes in to land with the glow on her face.

So I suppose the jump from talking about growing mustard seeds on damp cotton wool to carnivorous triffids stalking the earth and eating entire year groups was not so surprising after all. I must remember that it's not only me testing them. I am a mere trainee after all and putting me through my paces goes with the turf of performing as my second batch of guinea pigs.

Judging how well I control my own kids lately I think the Easter holidays can't come quick enough at the moment. Pickle wondered aloud this evening why I can't be like 'better mummies' who buy their boys i-phones and i-pods and other assorted gadgets without insisting that their offspring save their pocket money and contribute. He's been smarting for weeks after I refused to get him a hamster unless he contributed half the money. Then I pointed out the cost of a cage and estimated he'll need about a year to save up, in the hope that he would forget all about it and move on to the next fad. How wrong I was. Now I am dubbed substandard and I have to avoid my favourite shopping centre because he makes a bee-line for the pet store to check if 'his' hamster is still there.

Not so clever now am I?

ugh

What a week. Hectic and crazy with curve-balls galore. AND we have to go to school tomorrow - Saturday - to make up for the National Holiday on Monday. Where is the logic, please? You can have a week-day off but you have to work a Saturday in return? In my book that ain't a holiday.



Anyway, moaning aside here's a classic from Pickle. I found a write-up of a science experiment in his school bag. They were doing something with magnetism and experimenting with using a magnet to fly a plane. In a beautifully laid out record of the experiment several questions were posed - what do you already know? what so you want to find out? etc.



In reply to the latter Pickle had filled in:



'I want to know why I can't do what I like during Art classes'.



Well, they did ask.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all British Mums around the world! I hope your kids have given you special treats like mine have.

Pickle managed to let everyone sleep until 8h30, which really is kind of him given his usual weekend waking time of 7am or earlier. He's been pretty ill this week too so a couple of nights he's been inserting his feverish little body into my bed somewhere between 2 and 3am and burning me on the butt to wake me up and reach for the Calpol. But last night he slept through and so he was wide awake this morning to deliver his Mother's Day present of a tour round his latest Littlest Pet Shop village. It was terribly sweet, there is a even an ice cream stand in the bathroom in case you fancy a cornet while you're in the shower.

Poppet has also been ill but her main complaint has been that she can't taste anything. Given she's an incredibly fussy eater I proclaimed that this meant I can feed her whatever I like and she has no excuses to leave it any more! She has taken a different tack and has been taking chewing gum every hour to test whether her sense of taste has come back. With a little help from Daddy she made me a lovely necklace and a gorgeous card and she let me watch an hour of Scooby Doo with her - what more could I wish for?!

Nobby has promised me the lunch of my choosing, although I know it will have to be pizza or TGI Fridays to keep the monkeys happy. I have to say TGI's is located in a nicer shopping centre... I am erring towards burger and fries with a Zara and Esprit chaser...

So I have a few weeks to catch you up on since my last confessional. The ski trip for starters. It was a surprisingly good 6 hour drive to the Austrian mountains; we only took one wrong turn, although it happened to be in the mountains - which meant a 12km detour to turn round. Luckily Nobby seemed to be getting over the dodgy tummy that had kept him off work the previous week so we made very good time.

When we arrived at the resort we headed to the ski shop to rent the equipment only to be told that they had run out of children's skis and we would need to drive 11km to the nearest alternative ski shop... which had just closed for the day. So we went to the bank to take out some Euros to pay for our ski passes that our group leader was providing, only to find that we couldn't get in to use the cash machine until the next morning.

So we headed into the hotel dining room for our first holiday meal. I was carrying Pickle because he'd been racing round the hotel games room like a loony with all his school mates to make up for being cooped up in the car for so long. Suddenly he announced, 'I feel a bit sick'. As I put him down to lead him to the little boys room he promptly puked all over the floor.

And that was that: Pickle vommed just about every hour throughout the night, during which Nobby had a relapse, and during the week about ten other ski-trippers went down with it. Boy, did we feel guilty! So on our first ski day it was only Poppet and me who raced to the next village to get skis and spent a girly day on the slopes while the boys took it in turns to run to the bathroom and later tried to explain to a non-English speaking pharmacist what type of symptoms they were experiencing. Apparently despite Nobby doing a very good mime of puking and pooing the nice lady didn't get it until he added a soundtrack... Poor chap will be haunted by that for a while I think.

Luckily my boys rallied well and a steady diet of Gluwein and Palinka worked as a preventative treatment for me so we did actually enjoy ourselves too. Particularly in the evenings when everyone gathered in the dining room for games. Nobby and I were challenged to Poker by the Year 8 kids, one of whom had brought along an impressive suitcase of chips. Have you ever watched a thirteen year old try to bluff? It's very entertaining. And either Nobby or I managed to clean them out every night which was even funnier.

Since we came home its been laundry, lesson plans and lumming.
I've been flat out at school teaching Maths and Science to a Year 5 class, trying to make it come alive with some cool experiments which have so far involved playing very loud pop music, filling plastic bags with water and making tin-can-and -string telephones. I think I'm doing OK because one of my students has declared my lessons are 'much better than our other teacher's.' I've just heard that I need to send in a film of one of my lessons so I just need him to say that again while the camera's rolling ... maybe I'll take in cookies - if there's one thing I've learned from my own kids it's that a bit of bribery and corruption goes a long way.

Well, time for a Mother's Day soak in a hot bath while Nobby tackles the kitchen and the kids for me. And the really great new is that there'll be a Hungarian Mother's Day soon too! Hurrah for Mums!