I have mastitis again. It seems that I just lurch from one episode of bed rest to the next. My boob is very pretty in it’s dappled shades of pink and purple. Grub is a ferocious feeder and I feel that her particular feeding style must be responsible for all the mastitis, which I NEVER had with any of the others. Also, she has recently cut her bottom two teeth and has been experimenting with them. Very soothing.
We bought Pudding some goggles for swimming. He now wears them in the bath and shower and “I looooove my goggles, Mummy”. They can also be used for superhero dress-ups.
Poss is progressing nicely with her orphanage for wooden peg people, I must remember to post pictures. She worked on it all day yesterday and has built up a complex narrative surrounding the evil live-in caretakers of the orphanage, a Mr and Mrs Carton (or Mr & Mrs Sassy she can’t decide). They have lovely insect themed wallpaper though, so does it really matter?
Tomorrow Rhubarb embarks on a four-day rowing camp with his new school. The idea is to take the new year 8’s away with the rowing team for them to meet other new kids and older students as well as begin training for the upcoming school rowing season. He has the anxieties now, which is making planning and packing difficult. I wouldn’t force him to go except that I know he will have a ball and how cool will it be if he can make some friends and not feel so lost when school starts? Anyway, he hasn’t said he doesn’t want to go, just that he is nervous and he is certainly very surly indeed.
The g key on my laptop is intermittently not working so I have to go back through everything I type and insert the g’s.
I just got up and went to the toilet and there were specs of dirt and twigs sprinkled all over the bathroom. It looks as though someone carried our dog in there after she’d been for a roll in the grass and shook her. I also noted small piles of dishes in the hallway as well as a pair of Pudding’s undies.
Beefcake will have a fit if he comes home to find that I have moved these things, or tidied up in any way. He’s taken the children out for lunch. We’ve already had a little bit of bickering this morning over our very different standards when it comes to housework. Mine being that it is ideal to try and clean some things sometimes, for example, stacking the dishwasher and cleaning the loo are things I like to see done. Beefcake works on the philosophy that nothing ever needs to be done today and that people who clean regularly must have OCD.
A friend of mine lived with Beefcake in between houses and before I met him. It had been an all male sharehouse and she reported that it was not uncommon for him to sit down, find a box of three-day-old chicken wings on the floor next to the chair and have a little snack. Apparently the bathroom was so grime encrusted it took her an entire day to clean it, which she said she had to in order to use it without dry retching. He has improved a touch from those days, he has learned to refrigerate food at least.
I watched eight hours of William and Mary yesterday on dvd and I plan to watch more today.
Ah, times up. Grub is awake. Count yourselves lucky that I haven’t got more time to share.
Edited to add: Beefcake was concerned that his “having a fit” could be misconstrued. To clarify, he is concerned about me wearing myself out and wants me to rest. I am therefore banned from housework. It is only out of concern for my welfare and his having a fit would not be the loud and shouty kind but more of the carrying me back to bed kind. Just to clarify.