Just a small request...

In the last seven days I have...

• Unwittingly started a revolution in food safety procedures at our school's cafeteria. This was a direct result of giving one of my children a chocolate chip cookie purchased from there only to discover - via a race to the medical office where they hold our anti-histmanines and a thankfully still un-used eip-pen - that the chocolate chips were, in fact nuts. (The helpful member of staff responsible for making the cookies in the cafeteria kitchen decided to substitute the chocolate chips they had run out of with nuts - without actually telling anyone.)

• Collected the same child, on a different day, from school, to be warned by his teacher that she thought he was a little 'under the weather'. We got home, where he proceeded throw up spectacularly all over the kitchen floor. This did not phase me however, since I was just thanking my lucky stars that we had got out of the car 4 minutes earlier and he had taken his snow suit off 2 minutes earlier. Let's see; sick on the lino, or all over the inside of the car, my son, and his brother? Call me glass half-full, but I know which I prefer...

• Rushed to hospital with the other child (have you noticed how they hate to be upstaged by their siblings?) after he had a major collision while sledging on an ice run and needed 5 stitches just above one eye.

So, if anyone up there is listening, can we have a slightly calmer week this time around, please?

The Twelve Days of a Parent's Christmas

This post was inspired by Hot Cross Mum and Expat Mum, following a Twitter conversation about boys, loos, and needing to clean the bathroom floor more often than we might like. I'll leave you to join the dots together yourself on the subject... At any rate Hot Cross Mum took that start point and created her own version of 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' - and challenged us (in my 'oh, I'm not competitive at all' head, anyway) to do the same.

Obviously she's already mined the rich seam that is boys and the loo, so I was forced to look elsewhere - to something else that is currently at the forefront of my experience - and have re-written The Twelve Days of Christmas to a children's illness theme...

To be sung - in your head only, please - to the tune of The Twelve Days of Christmas...

On the first day of Christmas, my children gave to me: a headache and a high temperature.

On the second day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the third day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my children gave to me: 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the sixth day of Christmas my children gave to me: 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my children gave me to me; 7 hours internet shopping, 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the 8th day of Christmas, my children gave me to me; 8 days missed homework, 7 hours internet shopping, 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the 9th day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 9 doctor's notes, 8 days missed homework, 7 hours internet shopping, 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the 10th day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 10 messed up bedrooms, 9 doctor's notes, 8 days missed homework, 7 hours internet shopping, 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the 11th day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 11 sweaty pj's, 10 messed up bedrooms, 9 doctor's notes, 8 days missed homework, 7 hours internet shopping, 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

On the 12th day of Christmas, my children gave to me; 12 'I'm so boo-oo-red's, 11 sweaty pj's, 10 messed up bedrooms, 9 doctor's notes, 8 days missed homework, 7 hours internet shopping, 6 concerned grandparent messages, 5 broken nights.... 4 missed appointments, 3 hits of Calpol, 2 snotty tissues, and a headache and a high temperature.

Update:

Nappy Valley Girl has jumped on board with this one too - click here for a link - and so has Iota at Not Wrong Just Different. If you're inspired to do like wise, leave a comment telling me where to check and I'll add yours here too...

In the swim - or not...

I just put together a post for Tara's Gallery this week only to realise, just as I was about to hit publish, that she's had the temerity to take the week off (what, is it half term or something?), so have shelved that post and instead put before you this Mummy dilemma.

Boy #2 has had a nasty cough for the last 3 days. He has no temperature, no runny nose (yet, at any rate), and is perfectly well other than the frankly awful noise he keeps making. So he's ill, but not really ill enough to keep home from school (especially since two thirds of his class are making the same noise). Consequently, I've been sending him in for the last couple of days. I'm not asking for ratification on that; I know my child well enough and he's more than capable of a school day in this state of health. And for those worried about the other children in his class, well I'm afraid the damage was done last week by whichever child brought the virus in with them then...

No, what I'm asking is whether I should have allowed him to join his class swimming lesson today. Generally the rule is; if they're not well enough to swim, then don't bring the child in to school. If they can't swim, they get to sit on a bench with the Teaching Assistant either reading or watching the other kids in the pool; they don't get the chance to stay in the classroom as they would be unsupervised.

I knew this, but still decided this morning that I would not take Boy #2's swimming kit in with us. Whilst he's generally fine, and certainly not ill enough to stay home and miss a day, he does have this cough and it seemed foolish to me to push our luck any further. I mean, we've managed nearly 2 years here without having to visit a doctor, and I'd like to keep it that way if at all possible. Consequently, I spoke to his teacher and the TA when I dropped him off this morning, and offered to go in and sit and read with him by the pool during the lesson.

My children go to an unusual school. Parents are allowed anywhere on the premises at pretty much any time, because we give so much support to the teachers. In fact, the parents' help is actively sought in getting children ready both before and after their swimming lessons (and the amount of time spent drying and styling the little girls' hair by Russian mums panicking about the slight possibility their child might leave the pool area with one wet strand of hair verges on the ridiculous - but that's a subject for another post...). But when I offered to come down and sit with my coughing five year old on the benches by the edge of the pool, thus freeing up the TA to look after what I knew would be at least 4 other children also not swimming for the same reason, I was told no thank-you.

Boy #2 - according to the TA - would have to sit watching the other children swim for 45 minutes. No books or colouring allowed.

This seems to me to be inflexible, unnecessary and also, frankly, to be making a rod for her own back since she's the one who's going to have to deal with probably 4 or 5 bored five year olds. I imagine that this is aimed entirely at making me feel guilty for not following the party line and sending him swimming whatever. And the frustrating thing is that it's not as if we are on record as a hypochondriac family; last school year Boy #2 had only one day off sick, for heaven's sake.

However, I stuck to my guns and for all I know the intransigent TA stuck to hers and made Boy #2 sit without anything to do for 45 minutes.

But what should I have done? Kept him home all day for the sake of avoiding a 45 minute swimming lesson, or sent him in and dealt with the consequences of his being in the water?

What would you have done?

Summer-time - and does anyone have any diocalm handy?

I'm falling behind on my blog reading. I'm also falling behind on replying to comments, Twitter, newspapers, books, and practically everything that doesn't involve bouncing around in a pool with small children, soaking up the sun and regretting the croissant with butter and honey I had for breakfast.

But hey, you only live once.

I do, however, want to ask you one question;

Do you, like me, sometimes wonder how you came to partner up with a man so similar to one of your parents?

My sister, for example, married a man who has much in common with our mother (if it's possible to say that without making him out to be some sort of emasculated person, which he most definitely is not). And I? Well, I often wonder if I have ended up with a close copy of my father.

For example, Dad was something of a workaholic when I was growing up. (He still is, actually. Which is a neat trick when you're supposed have retired already.) Most of the time this manifested itself in not being around too much during the week (at least when we children were awake), and being on something of short fuse for much of the rest of the time. (Hmm...). And when it came time for the holidays, you could bet that the first 3 days or so would be wasted due to the fact that he would come down with some illness that pounced on his lowered immune system the moment he slowed down his normal frenetic pace and the adrenalin disappeared from his body.

Ah.

I don't think I'm stretching the point too much when I think of my beloved languishing upstairs still suffering the after-effects of his stomach upset on Saturday if I say this pattern of behaviour bears certain... similarities... to those displayed by my father. (And no. This is not a one-off).

So I'm wondering. Is it that I've essentially chosen a man who has many of the same qualities I admire in my father (in this instance; being a hard worker, incredibly focused, and with an eye on the long term goal rather than a short-term easy life) and which of course have similardown-sides (finding it hard to slow down, getting ill when he does)? And do we all do the same thing of looking for traits we respect in our parents when we choose a partner?

Or does this sick-holiday syndrome happen to everyone and I'm just reading too much into it?