This week started off badly.
Tall went back to work, and Tiny had a hard time adjusting to it being just the three of us again. He acted up. He threw things and tantrums. He was put into time out numerous times.
When I asked him why he was being so naughty, making so many bad choices, his response almost broke my heart:
“I miss daddy.”
It didn’t help that the weather was rubbish and that we had no plans, or that Pickle’s teeth were making him grouchy and clingy.
There was a near-serious incident involving a scotch chest that Tiny somehow managed to pull over; I heard an almighty crash, saw the chest fall onto my son, and with a racing heart pulled it off him like a woman possessed. By some miracle, he was unharmed, with not a bruise or scratch to be seen.
By Wednesday, however, we all seemed to snap out of those Back to Work Blues, and the rest of the week has been as smooth-sailing as a week with two little ones can be.
We’ve been visited by friends, who have helped to alleviate those out-of-term-time boring days. I’ve sorted through a big box of my old dolls (including a whole lot of fabulous cut-out dolls that I am hoping to do great things with), and reminisced about The Woofits – does anyone else remember them??
We’ve enjoyed cherries – immensely. Pickle has developed quite a taste for them, and is like a cat, ready with a swiping paw. He’s been reluctant to feed himself, preferring to be spoon-fed mush, or have small pieces of “proper” food popped in his mouth. Like his brother before him, he loooooves soy yoghurt – bleurgh! Tiny has continued to impress with his developing appetite and willingness to finally try loads of new foods. He’s still a very s-l-o-w eater, but I’m willing to wait if it means he clears his plate!
We’ve played outside, gardened and baked. Caught up with my parents who have been away, and enjoyed some nice wines that we’ve been saving for no real reason. Sowed seeds for various herbs which we hope will germinate and be happily transplanted to our herb garden.
I’ve been vomited on – twice – but when the little culprit then sleeps for eight hours straight, all has been forgiven. I woke before he did, with sore boobs and a sudden need to make sure he was okay.
We enjoyed a leisurely Sunday morning breakfast of French toast, bacon, maple syrup and coffee – all homemade and delicious, making me wonder why going out for brunch is always so exciting. And right now, we’re slow-cooking a butterflied leg of merino lamb on the barbecue. I’m salivating just thinking about how good it’s going to be!