The musings of a juggling mother

Rants & raves about life as a woman today, juggling work, home, kids, family, life the universe & everything.

© Mrs Aginoth. The right of Mrs Aginoth to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents act 1988

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Birthday blues

Its Little Miss Blonds birthday today. We had a lie-in this morning, and got up at 6.45am following the busy day yesterday. Then we had to wait until daddy dragged his headachy carcass out of bed before we could open the presents. We opened three presents before breakfast: from us (a weeble town), from Nanny (a weeble barn & a winter coat) and from Grandma (a singing book - she always gives a token present & some money, which is more useful as they have so much stuff already). We ahd a little trouble from Mstr A, who was unwilling to accept that it was LM Blonds day, and her toys, but once that wqas sorted out she was in her element. I don't think she really understood what we were all going on about yesterday, but she soon got the hang of birthday's once it started. "My birthday" she told everyone, nodding her head sagely. "My presents. My toys. My birthday. Mine"

Fortunately as it's a Wednesday, she was packed off to pre-school after breakfast. I had planned to write some letters, buy Mstr A's school uniform & tidy up the house today, but as usual, things didn't go to plan. Mr A was home again, so he consoled himself by helping Mstr A play his new computer games (Mstr A's birthday was only two weeks ago, so we're still trawling through all his new stuff). When we finally got out the house I took the short walk to "pop in" to our local supermarket.

Uh oh. It's the last day of the summer holidays. Everyone in the world had descended on everywhere that sells school uniform and there was hand to hand fighting in the aisles. We escaped with a couple of pairs of trousers (which need taking up - eaugh, sewing), but there were no shirts available. So we traipse of into town to a more reputable (& therefore more expensive) retailer. They ahd plenty of everything, so we picked up some shirts & jumpers, and paid for it using the vouchers I was given last Xmas to get something nice for myself. Oh well. I re-fuel Mstr A with some nasty fast food, which he doesn't even finish, then drag him of to Clarkes for school shoes.

Despite the fact that we have gone to the same clarkes shop in Weston for four years, approx a dozen visits in all, as all the little Aginoths have very narrow feet, they never ahve anything that fits in stock. today was no exception, so we traipse back home, pick up the car & drive off to our local shopping mall, near Bristol.

this takes a while, due to the three breakdowns in the roadworks!

OK. So we've gone to the only decent shoe shop, in a mall that serves the whole of the SW of England, on the last day of the school holidays. On arrival we are warned it is an hours wait. Mstr A is not a good waiter. He likes to run. He likes to shout. He prefers to run & shout at the same time. He likes to break expensive pieces of equipment. He likes to accost total strangers and either talk their ears off, or play rough & tumble a bit too roughly.

We wait anyway. So many other people couln'd be bothered, that the hour is reduced to only 40 mins. Horay. Shoes fitted, agreed on, and paid for, we return home. I go off to collect LM Blond & we start opening more presents (from three aunts/uncles).

Finally I get to feed them & do the birthday cake. Bath them & put them to bed. Just think, I can do it all again on Saturday, when we're having a birthday party for her!

No letters written. No tidying done. I'll get started on some work now I think - it should be done by 11pm with luck! The tidying can go the way Mr A's DIY does. Well meant, but ultimately unachievable.

1 Comments:

  • At Wednesday, August 31, 2005 11:31:00 pm, Blogger Mary P. said…

    I love your description of Mstr A waiting in the shoe store. He sounds very much like a little boy I once had in care, who, when out with his dad at a sporting goods store at the age of two, managed to knock down an Entire Wall of hockey sticks with one ill-considered lunge. Or perhaps it was very well considered? The domino effect, and some 175 wooden sticks tumble with great clackety fanfare, one after the other, down the length of the store.

    Sounds like Mstr A did better than that!

     

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