Schoolboy Compliments and 'Wife in the North'

Dropping Boy #1 off at school this morning, one of the teachers pulled me to one side. "Your son is so charming" she said to me happily. "He's always coming up to us and telling us he loves us, and giving us kisses."

I looked at her blankly. My son? Really? I mean, he's affectionate and loving at home, but I hadn't heard this one before - not outside the family, anyway... I left the building a little puzzled, and promptly forgot all about our conversation as Boy #2 did a stunt tumble down the front steps in front of the scary headmistress, no doubt consolidating any concerns she has about him. Click here for the back-story on that... (And fyi, he was fine after his spectacular head over heels - I was the one freaking out. )

Then, this afternoon, a different teacher stopped me. "Boy #1 is gorgeous, you know that? Guess what he did today?" I hesitated. "Uuummmm?" "He came over, gave me a big kiss, and said 'I love you, you're so pretty, you're just like a flower.'"

Crikey.



On an different subject, I just started reading the book of 'Wife in the North' by Judith O'Reilly. You may have noticed that I've got a link to her blog on my sidebar; if you haven't, and you've not read it, I can recommend it. But I have to admit I was sceptical about the book. I mean, making a book out of an autobiographical blog? How would that work? Surely it would lose something in the transition?

I am hooked. I cannot put it down.

Judith O'Reilly has achieved something I'm not sure I could ever do. I could regurgitate some of the blurb on the cover about it's being 'funny, poignant and beautifully written', and it would all be true. But it is the raw emotion of what is essentially her diary that stopped me in my tracks. She describes her emotions so clearly, no messing about, and in such a terse yet illuminating way that I feel I am there with her.

Perhaps I'm so moved by this because Husband and I have been debating making a similarly fundamental change to our lives by moving to Russia, or perhaps it's simply because she is brave enough to do what I'm not, and tell the whole story, warts and all, I don't know. I would love to know if whilst the original blog was being posted her husband was aware of it and of what she wrote. I salute both of them if yes; her for being so bloody honest about her feelings and for writing about them so succinctly, and him for sticking to his guns and persevering with his plans. Though I must admit that if I had been one of her London friends, I wouldn't have been able to understand why she upped sticks to Northumberland, I'm afraid. (What a surprise then that I'm not that keen to move to Moscow...)

In any case, I'm about 30% of the way through. There will not be much laundry, tidying or writing of Christmas cards done in this house until I'm finished...