a post which basically reveals I am so very clearly about to get my period

Yesterday a very dear friend who I met through this crazy thing called the internet sent me a care package*. A parcel loaded up with exquisite, EXQUISITE fabrics and a book packed full of things kids (and grown-ups) can make. While i sat there tearing up over fabric (with Chef and Felix looking at me, looking at each other, confirming through eye contact that clearly it was a ‘girl-thing’) saying, ‘do you know what this is??? and THIS???? AND THIS!!!??? AND ZOMG look at this! AND FEEL THIS!  Felix got his paws on the book and was all – “OH MAN, can I make this??? OR WHAT ABOUT THIS???”. Then he said, ‘actually, I really want to make an animal, or creature or something’. So then started perusing Softies and chose a character to make.

People, in less than a handful of hours that child of mine, the one who has never used a machine, had made a character he’s name Mr Smuggle.

He took him to school. Two kids have asked him to make one for them. You should have seen the look on his face after school when he told me that ‘everyone loved him!’.

Anyway, this afternoon is the day that Oscar has swimming after school so Felix was actually walking home because COULD ANYTHING BE MORE BORING than watching your brother have a swimming lesson with lots of other mongy kids?

On the way to swimming Chef rings me and tells me that his brother has offered to come over and help-out after Oscar’s operation. This may seem to an outsider a fairly innocuous statement. But this, this made me cry. Not a quiet tear but sobs of gratitude.

It came after K’s care package, a phone call and the package from Sooz, a phone call earlier in the day with the disability services coordinator from our local council who not only gave me names and numbers of organisations that may be able to come in and help us post-op but a whole range of other services and opportunities for Oscar once he is on the mend. Furthermore, as Oscar’s op is now smack bang in the 6 weeks my in-laws are away, I have watched my MIL tear-up at not being here for us during that time and have learnt she is.not.sleeping. thinking of ways she can help even though she will be absent.


So I’m crying like a lunatic on the Wakehurst Parkway with Oscar and Jasper (Grover was at my in-laws for the day, another show of love giving me the first day without any children in about a month**) deeply concerned for my welfare.



I get home and Felix has knocked up ANOTHER MOTHERFUCKING SOFTIE. That’s right. He hasn’t sat on his arse playing computer games or watching TV or playing his DS, he’s SEWED. AND, he’s sewed a softie FOR ME. He’s even sewn my first initial into the back of it.



After I’ve been home for a while and dinner is underway and Mum comes downstairs he says he got the results for his gold assignment. YOU KNOW, that assignment that made me worry about the academic future of my child. The one that made me really angst about how engaged (or more aptly, NOT engaged) he was in his learning. The one that made me extract effort from him that does actually prove you can get blood from a stone and by GOD you leave a dead horse with me and I WILL MAKE IT DRINK.

55 out of 55.



The ONLY one to score full marks.

OH DUDES, today? Today was a good day***.

*This is the second care package I’ve received this year, the first being a 28cm green french oven from K, the friend about to have her third child and who we are going to name. OH YES WE ARE.

** I went to the movies. On my own. I saw Date Night. I loved it – Tina Fey is awesome. I kinda find Steve Carrell cute too.

*** Considering the level of emotion I’m feeling tomorrow will undoubtedly see me start to bleed so let’s just take today for what it is, A FUCKING GOOD DAY****.

**** The day has of course ended with me doing the blood-curdling screaming that only a mother can do. I was driven to it by Jasper and his absolutely abhorrent behaviour of late. Behaviour I attribute to him being number three, incredibly stubborn and did I mention stubborn?