I feel fine
Well, I had a lovely day today, but hardly anyone else did!
I actually woke up at eight, despite all of Ruth's efforts at keeping the children quiet so as not to disturb me because... well, I just woke up. Ruth kept saying, "You look absolutely shattered, Bron, I think you should go straight back to bed, there won't be a sign of life till eleven when Marketa gets here, and then she won't be picking Molly up from nursery till twelve!" I guess she talked me into it. I retired to bed with Women in Love at nine, intending to sleep till ten only and then go have an explore. At quarter to ten, after dozing fitfully for three quarters of an hour, I looked at my watch and thought, "Well, perhaps I'll just sleep till eleven...." I think that at this point I kind of let go of the "I have to DO something today" notion and just gave into sleep. I slept till Molly arrived, shouting "Hello, Bronwen! Hello, Bronwen! Hello, Bronwen!" at around noon.
Molly had a bad day, I think... Marketa definitely did! Molly got into strop after strop. First she wanted biscuits for lunch. She would not be reasoned with by Marketa, although chatted quite happily to me. M tried to get her down for a bowl of pasta several times and Mol just screamed at her. Finally, I said to Marketa, "Do you want me to try?" "Oh, please, if you would." I marched upstairs and said, "Well, are you going to sulk up here all afternoon, or come down and read a story?" "Come down and read a story," she replied happily and decisively. So we went downstairs with Curious George Gets a Medal and sure enough, she smelled the pasta and cheese and wandered into the kitchen saying, calmly as anything, "May I have some pasta, please?" Of course, she then went on to have a tantrum about wanting an ice cream at the park, going over to a little friend's house, not taking the walking route she wanted, and being taken out of the bath because she was kicking Leah. I get the impression that all the girls are a little over-excited at the moment, and I'm sure my presence isn't helping so I'm trying to do all I can to help out -- without treading on anyone's toes! Difficult balancing act.
In the meantime, poor old Ruth had some terribly important work project dumped on her at 6 pm, and had to be home late... tried to call to let us know -- but the phone was off the hook! Tom had called at dinner time to speak to the girls, and whoever was last to speak didn't replace it properly. And in the UK, apparently, phones do not always make loud noises at you when they're off the hook. Ruth was supposed to be arriving at seven, and by quarter to eight Leah was in tears for worrying, so we called Ruth's mobile, and then of course she rushed home, guilt-stricken.
Since then, we've had Lillian up being comforted because I think she was rather upset by the whole thing -- but hiding it well. "The thing about being an older sister," she confided to Leah and me after we'd gotten hold of Ruth and knew she was safe and sound and not run over as Leah had feared, "is that you have to hide things a lot. See, I was quite worried just now, but I couldn't say that, because then, if Leah saw that I was worried, she'd think, oh, my big sister's worried, this must be really bad! So it's my duty," she said very seriously.
You can see how, even in the midst of what's probably been considered a disastrous day by most everyone else, that I'm rather wishing I wasn't leaving.
In fact, I've decided to do a bit of a job-hunt. Starting tomorrow. Just to see. Just to see!
I actually woke up at eight, despite all of Ruth's efforts at keeping the children quiet so as not to disturb me because... well, I just woke up. Ruth kept saying, "You look absolutely shattered, Bron, I think you should go straight back to bed, there won't be a sign of life till eleven when Marketa gets here, and then she won't be picking Molly up from nursery till twelve!" I guess she talked me into it. I retired to bed with Women in Love at nine, intending to sleep till ten only and then go have an explore. At quarter to ten, after dozing fitfully for three quarters of an hour, I looked at my watch and thought, "Well, perhaps I'll just sleep till eleven...." I think that at this point I kind of let go of the "I have to DO something today" notion and just gave into sleep. I slept till Molly arrived, shouting "Hello, Bronwen! Hello, Bronwen! Hello, Bronwen!" at around noon.
Molly had a bad day, I think... Marketa definitely did! Molly got into strop after strop. First she wanted biscuits for lunch. She would not be reasoned with by Marketa, although chatted quite happily to me. M tried to get her down for a bowl of pasta several times and Mol just screamed at her. Finally, I said to Marketa, "Do you want me to try?" "Oh, please, if you would." I marched upstairs and said, "Well, are you going to sulk up here all afternoon, or come down and read a story?" "Come down and read a story," she replied happily and decisively. So we went downstairs with Curious George Gets a Medal and sure enough, she smelled the pasta and cheese and wandered into the kitchen saying, calmly as anything, "May I have some pasta, please?" Of course, she then went on to have a tantrum about wanting an ice cream at the park, going over to a little friend's house, not taking the walking route she wanted, and being taken out of the bath because she was kicking Leah. I get the impression that all the girls are a little over-excited at the moment, and I'm sure my presence isn't helping so I'm trying to do all I can to help out -- without treading on anyone's toes! Difficult balancing act.
In the meantime, poor old Ruth had some terribly important work project dumped on her at 6 pm, and had to be home late... tried to call to let us know -- but the phone was off the hook! Tom had called at dinner time to speak to the girls, and whoever was last to speak didn't replace it properly. And in the UK, apparently, phones do not always make loud noises at you when they're off the hook. Ruth was supposed to be arriving at seven, and by quarter to eight Leah was in tears for worrying, so we called Ruth's mobile, and then of course she rushed home, guilt-stricken.
Since then, we've had Lillian up being comforted because I think she was rather upset by the whole thing -- but hiding it well. "The thing about being an older sister," she confided to Leah and me after we'd gotten hold of Ruth and knew she was safe and sound and not run over as Leah had feared, "is that you have to hide things a lot. See, I was quite worried just now, but I couldn't say that, because then, if Leah saw that I was worried, she'd think, oh, my big sister's worried, this must be really bad! So it's my duty," she said very seriously.
You can see how, even in the midst of what's probably been considered a disastrous day by most everyone else, that I'm rather wishing I wasn't leaving.
In fact, I've decided to do a bit of a job-hunt. Starting tomorrow. Just to see. Just to see!