Fab weekend

It started on Friday night when Sam had a bad dream just as I was going to bed. Of course I shovelled the little lad into Daddy’s bed, meaning to put him back later - but I didn’t. Sam had a good night’s sleep but he’s a right jifflebum (copyright my mum and dad) so I had the worst night’s sleep ever. Sam fidgeted, the water boiler fizzed and gurgled, upstairs were noisy, and one of Sam’s fire engines decide to sound its siren at random intervals. I went to bed at 12.05 and was awake at 1.15, 2.45, 3.05, 4.26 for sure. Probably in between too.

We spent a nice morning inside, where the cold couldn’t get us. The radio was on as we played, and ate a great breakfast of scrambled egg, bacon and toast. Sam is gradually becoming more open to new foods which is a delight to see. Might give the Brussels sprout ice cream a miss for a while though, I know I love cramming hidden veg into foods but there’s a limit! The morning was such fun, we didn’t get dressed until dinner time! Lots of play involving Sam’s Lego, he really enjoys it, and he loves the fact that he can say, for example, “Daddy, what my goodies need is like a boat that can fly, but has a radar and a fridge and a muffin making machine, and 3 seats, 2 steering wheels and 4 engines”. And we get the Lego box out and we cobble something together, as if by magic.

In the afternoon we went to visit Sam’s Nana in Sleaford. It was freezing cold but we still took Didi the dog out to chuck a ball for her to chase and wear her out, and Sam was highly delighted to find that there were some Christmas presents for him that we’d missed last time we visited. It was a nice visit, and I hope it boosts Nana’s spirit’s a little too. Back home we devoured chicken curry. I offered Sam the option of rice or leftover chip shop chips, so guess what he chose. He absolutely wolfed his tea down, in the belief that it’s chicken - if he knew it was Quorn I don’t know how he’d react. But we both had a big tea, then a happy bathtime, then the dreaded return to mummy’s.

You know, I can’t do anything right in that woman’s eyes. Sam came home on the Friday without his school sweatshirt - “You have to make sure he has everything with him” - how’s about the people in loco parentis actually do that kind of thing? I told her that I had used nit treatment in Sam’s hair (thinking that was a positive thing) - “Oh there’s no point doing that, the nits are immune to it anyway, you need to just wash the hair and use a nit comb like I do” - (Except you don’t have a nit comb, and that’s the second time you’ve told me that lie expecting me to believe it). At this point I was struggling not to say something back, so rolled my eyes and made an intake of breath instead - “I’m not telling you off, I’m just telling you what you need to do” - (“telling me off”? I’m not 8 years old. You are, in fact, criticising me, and every aspect of my parenting). I kept my cool in the end - hey, I’m a better person.

Then I went to the pub. I had a huge THREE pints of Kronenbourg, and a great chat with Sue & Trevor (hi chaps!). Three pints. I was VERY pleased with my self-control.

On Sunday and Monday I have just been cooking up food for Sam, cleaning the flat, going slowly. Made myself some fantastic fried rice which I combined with some Dad Curry from the freezer, I am a culinary superstar! Today? It’s Sam time! I’ll be off to collect him at 3, for some quality Dad & Lad time. Bangers and mash for tea, with healthy baked beans.

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