Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry Add comments

Hiya 🙂

Today we all got up around 6.40am, and Hubby was going to go into work on the later train, but decided against it at the last minute.  He had obviously been in a rush though, bless him; because I stumbled out of the shower and into clothes just in time to wave goodbye…then noticed that Youngest had one of Eldest’s vests on (which looked like a skirt!) under his own vest and nursery jumper – and Eldest was still sporting the pants he’d slept in and one of Youngest’s vests under his uniform!  None of my menfolk could fathom why, haha!

I ran about making beds, finding Youngest’s nursery polo shirt and cleaning down the shower door; then we got out at 8.23am and made it down to the school gates twenty minutes later.  I felt very proud of us!

Youngest chatted away to one of his pals while he undid his jacket and changed his shoes himself.  I popped his badge on him, signed him in, then gave him hugs as he went to get some paper to “dwaw anuvver tummy pictcha”.  Eldest ran over and gave me a huge hug as soon as I neared his line, worrying about some boys who were playing football near the windows.  He soon scurried back as the bell went, however, and took his place at the head of the line where he’d left his bag. 

I sauntered to the local shop, and ended up having a serious conversation with one of the mums I know, which ended (as these things do) with me doling out hugs and resolving to be more grateful for all the good I am blessed with in this world… 

With my new attitude, I kept the headphones in and Spotify on, and blitzed the house for 45 minutes.  I then had a quick look on Twitter and Facebook while eating a marmalade roll (I hadn’t had breakfast, I suddenly realised).

I went out to collect Youngest a little late, and he had made two drawings of him in my tummy, and he was filthy from having played on ‘the hill’ in the nursery garden again!  I had to change the plaster for yesterday’s graze on his finger after wiping his hands with about four wipes.  He proceeded to wolf down a sandwich, but turned his nose up half way through his slice of toast, claiming it was ‘dust bwead’ and Daddy hadn’t toasted it ‘pwopaly’.

I was regaled with tales of others and their snacks, had to join Youngest in waving to a dog and another child, and photograph him in various poses on the ‘King of the Castle bit’.  Only then did Youngest deem it time to retire to his buggy.  He did not fall asleep, however, preferring to chat for the rest of the way back. 

Youngest went about changing his own clothes and pull-up when we got in, letting me do a bit more housework.  He asked for his usual lunch of a buttered roll followed by a packet of crisps (as apparently the food he has walking home is not lunch).  He stayed awake until it was time to get him in the buggy again, then he got comfy and drifted off while I pottered about checking we had everything.

Eldest had a brief go on the ‘Trim Trail’ when he came out, but I managed to get him on the road home pretty quickly.  He unfortunately had a scuffle with a boy he knows from primary one over who got to push the traffic light button, but luckily the other mum didn’t hold it against him!  I was not best pleased with his behaviour…!

Youngest slept through everything until we rounded the corner of our street.  Both our boys zoomed about getting out of their outdoor clothes, and my parents arrived about ten minutes later.

The kids and my Mum devised a game where the old pushchair box could be upended and the boys could try to throw balls into it.  They had great fun knocking the box over, resurrecting it, then trying to be successful from all different angles! 

My lovely Dad had brought different kinds of fastenings for our garden mosaic, and was out with his drill  again.  We watched him from the playroom window.  I think he can rest easier now, as I don’t think he was entirely happy with the fixings before 😉

Maybe his efforts fed into tonight’s poem?  I immediately thought tools when I saw ‘wrench’ and ‘box’ in the same offering!


Wrench  Wave  Box  Change  Donkey  Dreary  Pastoral  Religion  Slip


I pass him a wrench,

Interpreting the wave towards the box

As a plea for help.


He does his own oil change

And loves tinkering with engines.

He finds it exciting,

(I just see donkey work)


He’s fanatical though,

Almost lifts the subject out of dreary

Even for me.


He loves taking tearaways under his wing –

Turning pastoral –

Indoctrinating them into the religion of the grimy machine.


He whistles as I slip him the right tool at last;

The radio competing for supremacy.


My parents left about 15 minutes before Hubby came in, and we had pizzas with the boys about half an hour later.  The boys were tired and grumpy to start with, but soon warmed to their usual chat about toppings (real and imaginary) and what everyone had been up to in the day.

I feel so much better than I did on Tuesday and Thursday, I think there is a lot that can be said for getting exercise.  I have walked 9 miles and done about 90 minutes’ housework today!

I think I need to go and curl up with a book and my boys now…night night!



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