Oh my, what a week. Not a single adult social event for myself, but a rammed week in seven days. I need to get better at organising all this. However, as it turned out, a wise move on my part. This week has taken it out of me after all.
First things first, the more observing of you will notice that this is not my usual London pic for my diary, but rather a giant chocolate cake. Very fitting for lent, don’t you think? I will come to that later though. This week started with my oldest falling down the stairs at his dad’s place and feeling sick on the way to school he didn’t feel great so he came to his Mama instead. Quite a nasty bump on his head but he felt fine so some ice was applied, rest ordered and the intention harboured he would go back to school the next day. This plan worked until about an hour into the school day, at which point the school rang me and informed me he had been sick and needed to go to the hospital. So that’s what we did. It is a little awkward taking your 13 year old to the children’s ward when he’s taller and bigger than you, I must say. Four hour later we were home with aftercare instructions and the next morning you can guess what happened. I am now on a first name basis with half the emergency room. This stint was considerably longer and more worrying for me and I took the day off in the end; still I could take my boy home with me in the end. Bed rest and no school for the entire week though.
Now let’s talk about the cake. My little guy turned 8 last Sunday so he had his party this weekend, including a sleepover with three of his friends – yes, I know how to make life hard for myself. So I spend Saturday mainly in the kitchen creating all sorts of fantastical party food for kids – like meatball pasta cakes or frittata bites – and the pièce de résistance, a chocolate buttercream torte with sweets falling out of it once you cut it open. Hence my lent defying picture on this entry. And may I just say, it was divine. Light sponge, fluffy buttercream, demolished in the space of minutes by a herd of ravenous little creatures.
After a couple of hours of complete chaos, most children were handed back to their respective parents high as kites on sugar. The remaining sleepover guests were thankfully entertained my my older two and I think they possibly got some sleep between 2.15am and 2.25am. At least that’s what it felt like.
A bit of work on Sunday, then the week was over. And the glorious sunny weather we had recently followed suit it seems. Boo.