Muddy, Grumpy and Tired Troutlings

“This is the best Mummy-Daughter Day EVER! Yoohoo!” hollered Maxi as she shot past me on her bike. Yessssssss!

We’d spent the weekend mostly being confined to a house or car (visiting much-loved relatives in Liverpool all weekend) and didn’t get back till midnight on Sunday, so today (Monday)’s been a bit of a washout. After The Boss went to work, we got up late (0830hrs), then dawdled around till the double appointment at the GP: Maxi now knows how to take care of her ingrowing toenails; Midi has one grommet left in; she also has a blood-shot eye that’s not apparently caused by anything sinister. Bonus.

We did a quick emergency food shop then blasted through the library. The poor librarian! Before we go in, I always try to calm the kids down and caution them not to barrel in yelling, but every time they last about 10 seconds before exploding in a 6-handed whirl of book-grabbing excitement. When we trogged home, Mini had a 20 minute ‘quiet time’ reading her library books in bed while I made lunch and did a mountain of laundry. Midi reluctantly helped me make up some naan bread mix. We left that to rise while we had an hour blowing away the cobwebs at the swing-park before dinner. The Boss made gujarati beans as soon as he got home from work while I drank some Lovely Cold Wine grilled the naans to go with the chicken-curry-from-a-jar.

Midi’s throat is still sore and her cough is no better from the weekend, so she and tired-out Mini got an early night with The Boss while I took Maxi out for a spin on her bike.

What a lovely evening! The Boss had given Maxi some bike lights for her bike that she footered around with happily. Being able to see her gleaming head and tail lights definitely encouraged me to let her go off further afield without me hovering over her: good for us both! I strode along in the dappled evening sunlight as Maxi chattered away merrily, enjoying the luxury of being able to pedal at her own pace and whizz through muddy puddles. When I reassured her that clothes clean up and not to bother about a few splashes, she zoomed through the mud with more glee. Attagirl!

Alas, our hour of fun came to an abrupt halt when we returned and a sobbing Midi threw herself into my arms – The Boss hadn’t told her where we’d gone, and she’d been regretting her constantly scowled “I wish you were dead, Mummy!” every time she loses her temper. I stroked her hair while the poor wee thing sat in my lap, describing how her head gets “muddled up” when she loses her temper, and how words come out that she doesn’t know she’s saying. She’s certainly my most tempestuous daughter. And her temper is completely from me. God help us both when she’s pubescent and I’m menopausal!!

Bugs: Incoming!

D’you know, I’m fine with it being cold. It’s ok when it’s wet. I can even cope with freezing wind, but not all 3 together! In June. Normally the sun cheers me up out of my sleep-deprived haze, but not this month. In fact, can someone send me a photo of what the sun looks like? I’ve forgotten (memory failing too…)

Midi and Mini Minx are still concerted in their efforts to ensure I don’t get a whole night’s sleep. Last night (Thursday 14 June) it was Midi sneaking into my bed, then head-butting and kicking me in the back till I sleepily gave up all rights to my half of the bed. I swear she’s training me to be able to sleep on a washing line.

I think Mini’s sickening for something. At the optician’s this morning (just a regular biennial eye-check) she sobbed when the very nice and child-sensitive man gently suggested that she sit on the floor for a second while he looked at Mummy’s eyes. This isn’t like her. Mini could charm the birds from the trees, sweeties from the clutches of babies, and has a strange routine that seems to charm Daddies (she stands stock-still, cocks her head coquettishly, points and yells, “Man!” It’s mostly fine, especially when she gets the gender right…). But this morning she was having none of it, and just wanted to sit on my lap. Yesterday she wanted to huddle in the sling in a front carry. At around 14kg, this isn’t the easiest of things to pull off with a size 3 wrap! Kind of a backwards ruck-tied-under-bum with a cross behind my back). But the cuddles were admittedly lovely.

After the eye check (right eye still robotically perfect; left eye beginning to accept that it’s part of an old fart’s body and starting to weaken), we went for a milkshake / coffee and Empire biscuit/scone while I chatted with a fellow grown-up. We do this once a month on average, and the girls know my friends. Normally they’re happy to quietly stuff themselves silly with Evil Sugary Treats, but not this morning: Mini just wanted to sit on my lap. After 40 minutes I still hadn’t had any caffeine or scone, and oh boy, did it show! I could barely string 2 words coherently together.

Maxi is hoarse; Midi’s 9-day-long sore throat (red tonsils + blisters) and 10-day-long tummy ache both got better just as I finally made an appointment with the GP. Well, it felt like they finally went away in the waiting room the second before we were called in. I do feel foolish taking an obviously perfectly well child to skip and dance around the surgery. Again! But hey-ho, I bet I’m not the only one. The GP (who I’m a little wary of because she’s told me some blatant untruths as Utter Fact) was absolutely brilliant with Midi: she established an immediate, easy, excellent rapport with her, had Midi giggling and purring within seconds, and checked her out most thoroughly. I tell you, I spent 5 minutes watching her tame my little whirlwind and was taking notes myself! So I’ve definitely thawed my inner feelings towards her – anyone who’s that good and genuine with 4 year olds is a very sound person indeed.

So: what germs are the girls incubating? Guess we’ll have to wait and see…