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ailbheThe house was a pit and a disaster, so we left it behind. We stopped at Elle's Baguettes for sandwiches, which we packed in our own lunchboxes so no litter. The staff thought that was a good idea. Both children chose sausage and ketchup on white bread, and I had ham, chili, cucumber, tomato, lettuce and mayonnaise on brown bread. And we had crisps and juice, too, for the meal deal. I put it all in the trike with the children, crossed the road, and then posted some party invitations at the post office, and then I cycled us in to town and out again to ERAPA.
We went down by the river, with the hood off the trike, and had a good look at the lock. There was no-one going through it but we talked about how it works and why. Then we went further on and saw a couple of swans; I was wondering why there were so few when I saw a mass of swans crowded around the foot of Cholmley Road - four black swans with red beaks among the white ones - where people were feeding them loaves and loaves of bread for the amusement of a toddler. We watched them for a little while, heaved up the steepest hill I ever have to cycle, and then we arrived early for the home ed group. We had our lunch and the first people to arrive were people I already knew and so it was lovely and pleasant.
Everyone had a lovely time until Linnea came up to me sulking. I was non-pushily nice to her for a few minutes and extracted the fact that she doesn't want to play that game because it's "horrid," a word which, as Susan might say, "real children never say." Further queries elicited the information that the game was robbers and cops. And she wasn't allowed to be a cop, apparently.
Emer found a doll as large as herself to play with, which was disconcerting to catch out of the corner of my eye.
So Linnea didn't mind much when we had to leave early, and we arrived in John Lewis in time to get both children fitted for new sandals. It was a bit of a production.They had some in stock to fit Emer but not Linnea. We locked up at the back of JL, by St Mary's Butts church, and went first to the Parents' Room, where Linnea drank three cups of water in a row and Emer had a little drink and a nappy change. then we went and got a ticket to place us in the queue for shoe-fitting, and I looked at the sale racks and chose a few likely pairs. Then Linnea urgently needed the loo, so we dashed back and she went. After she finished she said "I have a runny tummy," but there was no evidence of it. We went back and Emer's turn to be fitted came, and we tried several pairs before we found one which didn't chafe at the ankle - all the girly pink ones have an extra seam just where Emer's ankle bone is, so she has boy-sandals again. She likes them, though. She did originally want pink.
When Linnea's turn came she smelt a bit funny and wasn't very helpful, so we established that there wasn't much in her size in styles she liked, and I decided to take her to the loo rather than persist in trying styles she didn't like. Five or six styles is enough to try on in a session really. The only sandals which came wide enough didn't come in half-sizes and the ones in half-sizes were all too narrow at the toes; her foot hung over the sides. So we paid for the shoes and for a present for Cadhla which Emer had chosen while Linnea had her fitting - nursery toys are right next to children's shoes - and Rob phoned as my transaction was ending and I told him where we were.
So I brought everyone back to the Parents' Room and while Linnea was sitting on the loo Rob came and found us. And we talked briefly about dinner and I made a couple of phonecalls to sort out money and we went out somewhere Linnea remembered going for Freya's fourth birthday, a little over a year ago.
They had a good, cheap children's menu so that was lovely. While we were eating our main courses a little girl and her grand mother came back to their table; the little girl was crying and limping, and the grandmother started off with "don't make a fuss let's just go home no ice-cream" and then got genuinely concerned. I find a crying child very difficult to ignore, and they were very near us, so I heard - eavesdropped on - everything that was going on. They decided to have their desserts and the little girl put her leg on her grandmother's lap; she rubbed it gently and the girl stopped crying. I looked over at them a few times and noticed that the girl's sock seemed very tight. Then I saw a small but very very very dark-red bruise on her shin, and thought perhaps it was swollen.
I looked speakish at them and the grandmother asked me to speak and I said that I didn't know if the child's sock was tight but her leg looked swollen to me and perhaps they should compare her two legs. And yes, it was swollen, and now you come to think of it also hot to touch, and what on earth could that mean? and I said that it might just be a bad bruise but if they could think of anything serious she'd done, like jumping on concrete or being hit hard, they might need to consider an x-ray.
They thought about it for a minute or two and then thanked me, and later when they were leaving they thanked me again and said that they were indeed going to get it looked at properly but didn't know where. So I said A&E but not to leave it too late as it's a Friday night.
The child was still obviously in pain as they were leaving but now howling crying any more. I wonder whether the it-doesn't-hurt-really-don't-fuss was what caused the serious bawling?
After we had finished our meals - during which Emer demonstrated that spaghetti-twirling is easy really, but eating very hot food is hard - we had to cycle home without lights. Well, I had a rear light. I didn't enjoy that. Rob and I both had hi-vis vests on but he'd forgotten his lights and my front dynamo-light wasn't working. We must look at that soon.
Emer fell asleep on the way home and is in bed asleep even now. Linnea did some of her restaurant-kiddie-pack puzzles while Rob made up her bed and now she's gone to bed too.
My turn next.
We went down by the river, with the hood off the trike, and had a good look at the lock. There was no-one going through it but we talked about how it works and why. Then we went further on and saw a couple of swans; I was wondering why there were so few when I saw a mass of swans crowded around the foot of Cholmley Road - four black swans with red beaks among the white ones - where people were feeding them loaves and loaves of bread for the amusement of a toddler. We watched them for a little while, heaved up the steepest hill I ever have to cycle, and then we arrived early for the home ed group. We had our lunch and the first people to arrive were people I already knew and so it was lovely and pleasant.
Everyone had a lovely time until Linnea came up to me sulking. I was non-pushily nice to her for a few minutes and extracted the fact that she doesn't want to play that game because it's "horrid," a word which, as Susan might say, "real children never say." Further queries elicited the information that the game was robbers and cops. And she wasn't allowed to be a cop, apparently.
Emer found a doll as large as herself to play with, which was disconcerting to catch out of the corner of my eye.
So Linnea didn't mind much when we had to leave early, and we arrived in John Lewis in time to get both children fitted for new sandals. It was a bit of a production.They had some in stock to fit Emer but not Linnea. We locked up at the back of JL, by St Mary's Butts church, and went first to the Parents' Room, where Linnea drank three cups of water in a row and Emer had a little drink and a nappy change. then we went and got a ticket to place us in the queue for shoe-fitting, and I looked at the sale racks and chose a few likely pairs. Then Linnea urgently needed the loo, so we dashed back and she went. After she finished she said "I have a runny tummy," but there was no evidence of it. We went back and Emer's turn to be fitted came, and we tried several pairs before we found one which didn't chafe at the ankle - all the girly pink ones have an extra seam just where Emer's ankle bone is, so she has boy-sandals again. She likes them, though. She did originally want pink.
When Linnea's turn came she smelt a bit funny and wasn't very helpful, so we established that there wasn't much in her size in styles she liked, and I decided to take her to the loo rather than persist in trying styles she didn't like. Five or six styles is enough to try on in a session really. The only sandals which came wide enough didn't come in half-sizes and the ones in half-sizes were all too narrow at the toes; her foot hung over the sides. So we paid for the shoes and for a present for Cadhla which Emer had chosen while Linnea had her fitting - nursery toys are right next to children's shoes - and Rob phoned as my transaction was ending and I told him where we were.
So I brought everyone back to the Parents' Room and while Linnea was sitting on the loo Rob came and found us. And we talked briefly about dinner and I made a couple of phonecalls to sort out money and we went out somewhere Linnea remembered going for Freya's fourth birthday, a little over a year ago.
They had a good, cheap children's menu so that was lovely. While we were eating our main courses a little girl and her grand mother came back to their table; the little girl was crying and limping, and the grandmother started off with "don't make a fuss let's just go home no ice-cream" and then got genuinely concerned. I find a crying child very difficult to ignore, and they were very near us, so I heard - eavesdropped on - everything that was going on. They decided to have their desserts and the little girl put her leg on her grandmother's lap; she rubbed it gently and the girl stopped crying. I looked over at them a few times and noticed that the girl's sock seemed very tight. Then I saw a small but very very very dark-red bruise on her shin, and thought perhaps it was swollen.
I looked speakish at them and the grandmother asked me to speak and I said that I didn't know if the child's sock was tight but her leg looked swollen to me and perhaps they should compare her two legs. And yes, it was swollen, and now you come to think of it also hot to touch, and what on earth could that mean? and I said that it might just be a bad bruise but if they could think of anything serious she'd done, like jumping on concrete or being hit hard, they might need to consider an x-ray.
They thought about it for a minute or two and then thanked me, and later when they were leaving they thanked me again and said that they were indeed going to get it looked at properly but didn't know where. So I said A&E but not to leave it too late as it's a Friday night.
The child was still obviously in pain as they were leaving but now howling crying any more. I wonder whether the it-doesn't-hurt-really-don't-fuss was what caused the serious bawling?
After we had finished our meals - during which Emer demonstrated that spaghetti-twirling is easy really, but eating very hot food is hard - we had to cycle home without lights. Well, I had a rear light. I didn't enjoy that. Rob and I both had hi-vis vests on but he'd forgotten his lights and my front dynamo-light wasn't working. We must look at that soon.
Emer fell asleep on the way home and is in bed asleep even now. Linnea did some of her restaurant-kiddie-pack puzzles while Rob made up her bed and now she's gone to bed too.
My turn next.