Another fly by week, dominated by the cat being naughty and giant nosebleeds fom various sons. My favourite combination. Not. Oh and my kids turned out to be dirty little stop-outs with a little help from their most beloved auntie.
Our little Thunder has been more of a Pinocchio since Christmas Eve (you know, not a real boy anymore) so he was behaving himself since then but this week he decided to use Son C’s duvet repeatedly as a toilet. Ewwwww, so gross. I really have other things to do in life than wash bedding all the time. So now pussycat is sleeping in the kitchen, much to his dismay. He’ll live.
Son C had a couple of nightly nosebleeds this week, he’s really good dealing with them I have to give him that, but of course he still needs cuddles and kisses so ended up in my bed more then once. Quite convenient as it turns out with that nasty cat business going on. He has them sometimes so it’s not a big deal. It was however, when Son A’s school rang my work on Friday to tell me he needed collecting immediately due to red floods making their way from his nostrils. He was in such a sorry state when I got him ten minutes later I wanted to cry. He might be 13 and looking down on me but he still is my baby and I don’t like him being poorly one bit.
The weekend was dominated by kids parties, the first one one Saturday at auntie’s house. She isn’t really my sister, but my oldest and longest friend in the UK and we have always been very close. I love her to bits and our kids call the other one auntie without batting an eyelid. I had to go to work so she offered to drop them home. That was around 3pm. At 8pm, I got a text from my au pair asking where the boys were. Still at auntie’s busy watching a movie. They eventually showed up just gone 11pm. Little rock stars in the making…..
Sunday brought us a slime party – yes that’s a thing – and both me and the cat are equally unimpressed with the random bits of goo we find in fur or rugs around the house. The son responsible does not take any responsibility for it and blames the cat instead. As if. I am not entirely sure when I can try sneak the stuff out the house – we have five tubs of the stuff and some of them smell surprisingly pleasant – but for now I can hack it off as it’s the one thing in his life he loves. Including me. Or should that be excluding?