The clocks went back last night. Nobody told Edward, so he woke up at 7a.m. old time (reasonably); 6a.m. new time. This had some advantages in that the morning seemed really long and I got a whole load of stuff done before breakfast. Early afternoon seemed however to vanish rather quickly with a run with Nicola seeming to take up far longer than it actually had (this is no reflection on Nicola at all, and at least we didn't go out for the hour and half off-road traipse around Gelt Woods which I normally do with Eddie on a Sunday). I came home and did some gardening and then started making tea, thinking I had loads of time, only to find it was suddenly 5.30 and the children were all getting fractious and naughty because they were hungry and I'd forgotten that it was an hour later than they might normally eat at.
The advantages of this were that the older two both ate well however with Alex for once eating all his carrots and most of his broccoli; and they both loved the lamb shanks I had decided to try out on them. Edward started off making his 'mum mum mum' noise (which means, 'I'm hungry, I like this, hurry up and give me more') but then quickly got tearful as he'd only had an hour's sleep today and was tired out. As I write he is sitting on his father giggling having woken up after a couple of hours' sleep, having been brought downstairs and given more milk.
I know there are Strict Mothers in the audience who do everything correctly and who will tell me this is the Wrong Thing To Do. I know it is. He doesn't normally get - or even ask for - milk if he wakes in the night, but he was crying and crying and not going back to sleep and having not had much to eat today I thought he might well be hungry. He and his father are now making those funny noises when you pat your hand over your open mouth, so he's now even more awake than he was. I'm going to bed soon though so he can come up with me and lie next to me and I'm sure will soon be asleep (yes, I know that's another 'no, no' but it worked with the other two and quite frankly having thought before having children that having them next to you on the bed was a cardinal sin, reality kicked in once Alex started waking in the night as a baby, and I do believe that they are unlikely still to be coming into my bed as teenagers. Plus I like being able to hear them breathe). I apologise not.
Having eaten our lovely dinner (I really must recommend my choir colleague Andrew's lamb - http://www.hallsford.co.uk/) - pudding consisting of an apple and lemon pie made from my sister's home-grown cooking apples - I left the older children to watch a couple of Aardman Animations short films and went up to have a bath. Glancing in Isabella's room, having left the dining table not totally cleared, I felt 'why should I bother'. I was sorely tempted to leave it all for several days, though I did put the dishwasher on first. I got in the bath feeling that this had been a long week and that I've achieved nothing: none of the work I wanted to do or thought I might do has got done and what's more due to having what felt like a minor and innocuous cold, I have done no training or singing - but going for a run this afternoon made me realise that was the right decision as I felt so tired. I think it's just trying to look after 3 children, and whilst having parents here last week, over the weekend and for a few days this week, was some help, there still seemed to be rather a lot to do.
I lay in the bath and read To the Poles without a Beard, which I got out of the library yesterday. An hour later I had just got out and was sitting on the edge of the bath in a towel, still reading, when Isabella knocked on the door to tell me that she and Alex were going to bed. Amazed at this (it's normally quite a battle), but concluding that they must both be tired due to a late night and lots of excitement at a Hallowe'en party yesterday, and the extra hour today, I accepted this at face value and gave them a big kiss and cuddle whilst tucking them up.
When I came downstairs I found one reason for this apparently good behaviour. They had opened a new block of butter and put it in the butter dish and then helped themselves to the remainder of the cracker (biscuits) in the TV room (food is not allowed in there), presumably whilst watching all three episodes on the Aardman Animations DVD. What was David doing? He was on the computer next door of course... where is a man usually when you need him? Answer: on his computer. Would a man think to get the children to bed? Answer: no, not unless you told him that that was part of his job description for the evening.
I wasn't cross with them. With an Absentee Mother (in the bath) and a not-too-present Father (in the room next door but probably oblivious to all except fighting) I'm not surprised they helped themselves to the remaining crackers. I'm quite impressed that they thought of putting the butter in the butterdish in fact, although they didn't think to cover up the evidence - they left the empty biscuit box and the butter dish and a dirty knife on the sofa in the TV room. And I think they were probably tired as well in any case.
It's been a long day at the end of a long week: and there is only excitement to look forward to from now on as it's Isabella's 6th birthday this week and my parents are coming up again, fireworks night at the weekend, and then the build-up to Christmas: followed of course by Edward's 1st birthday. It's going to be incredibly quiet when everyone is back at school and work tomorrow: but only for a few days.
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