Immunity Goddens

Yesterday evening went so well that the dining table was properly cleared before bed and so this morning went swimmingly. I got everyone up and fed (Emer likes to eat one and one-quarter Weetabix, propped up together "like a sofa," which makes for food waste I find irritating) and dressed and did their hair and brushed their teeth, and did laundry and dishes and so on. And it was still early enough to take a picnic lunch to the community gardens! So I phoned a friend.

In the gardens Linnea had a waterfight with a two-year-old; she gave the toddler the power hose thing with the showerhead attachment, and "ran away," but not too fast. Intermittently, she splashed some of the spray back at the toddler.

Then I put the hose away, took Linnea's dress off, wrung it out (wrang it out? wrought it? er...), and laid it in the sun to dry.

We went to collect the toddler's sibling from school and then all played in the playground. I tried to buy ice lollies from an ice-cream van (Motto: "As good as mama's milk!") but they only had icecream. We bought lollies in a shop on the way home.

I also bought coffee.

When we got back Rob arrived as soon as we were in the door. The house is in chaos again, but I can see the end... Rob bought a little more wood for our various shelving projects and we're working on it. Tomorrow is hammer-drill time again.

Hurrah for lovely people

Today I got email confirming that one of my favourite people, with whom I am not in anything like regular contact (I let him know when I have a baby, basically), is still alive and fairly well. I am delighted.

Probably hormones

I feel like such a bad mother. Bad parent. Bad mother. I'm not sure which is worse.

Today, it's because as far as I know neither of my children can read. Other people tell me Linnea can but I've had limited evidence of that myself, and less and less of late, as she practices writing instead. I mean, they are three and five, so not reading isn't all that unusual, except that I think perhaps EVERYONE I know could read before they were five and so could all their children.

Also, I know children younger than Emer who count better, which proves I have neglected her and don't count things enough, not like we did with Linnea.

Presumably this will all feel better in a few days when I stop being so pimply and tired.