Author: toughmotheruk

Sticking with the zoo, we had a very memorable experience! We fed a Pygmy Hippo and gave the penguins their brekkie as well as watched the lion rip into his.

However, it did emphasise why two weeks of quarantine is not high on my list of things to do.

We had elected to stay in a single room lodge – the kids very quickly chose the single beds, somewhat logically, leaving the double sofa bed to their dear parents.

That seemed kind, until we arrived back from the night tour and opened up the sofa to see that a third of it was the wooden base – with no apparent mattress or covering.

My husband tried convincing the kids to change around, but they weren’t having it, so, after much tossing and turning, we settled for the night.

That is until my son went to the bathroom about midnight. My husband spotted the opportunity and was snuggled up in the bed in no time.

My son quite vociferously protested, but did try sleeping on the sofa. Briefly. Before deciding to top and tail with his sister…

Who woke up at 3 complaining about an extra person in her bed. As she didn’t want to try the sofa she quietened down pretty quickly…

For them both to wake up at 6am excited to start day 2, which they weren’t allowed to do until 7!

I’m not sure we’d all survive 14 nights of that!

I’m now double vaccinated.

I was a bit anxious going for my second jab as the first was a bit traumatic.

The actual injection went very smoothly and reminded me of tailing time on the farm – just a lot quieter as lambs weren’t baa-ing to be reunited with their mums after being ear marked, vaccinated, drenched and tailed.

Perhaps ironically after that analogy, we’d gone to stay the night at the zoo. A Christmas present after our trip to New Zealand was a Covid Cancellation.

While we were having dinner in the Mini Beast Pavilion, my daughter started telling us about the discovery of the small pox vaccine. Her latest school project. My son popped up to demonstrate how it would have felt “back in the day” and landed a beautiful punch directly onto my vaccination spot.

He took one look at my face and decided that inspecting the mini beasts behind the glass was an excellent idea.

When I could speak sensibly, I agreed with him.

One month later and I realised I was still rubbing my shoulder.

However, the second vaccine seemed to sort that out. Now I’m just waiting for the halo (of “full” protection that is).

A few weeks ago we went out for a bbq at a friends house. How the world has changed given the novelty of that!

We’d had a great night and I was walking home with my son when he announced he was “kid drunk”.

I wracked my memory but couldn’t recall them being out of sight in the garden or, for that matter, anywhere near any booze.

There hadn’t even been an overabundance of sugar as he’d announced he didn’t like cake (since when?!).

I relaxed when he went on to say that he just wanted “to jump and run and talk in really long sentences”.

Not sure where he got that from?!

Funnily enough, he did then disappear for a nap the following afternoon.

What’s it like to live a day without electricity?

I remember dad making us do it. I think to help us appreciate all the things we took for granted. Toast, tellie… was there anything else?

So I thought it might be a good exercise to do with the kids.

The look from my daughter when I suggested it spoke volumes. But she got into the spirit of it – even rounding up the iPads and anything electrical to put in a bag the night before.

This was after my son had clarified that anything requiring electricity to charge was not allowed but batteries were ok…?!

I was rethinking the next morning after said daughter had come in for the third time before 7.30 to tell us she was bored.

When we did venture downstairs, she had completed some painting – apparently she was so bored she couldn’t think of anything to paint… perhaps that’s how modern art started….?

From there, the hammock saw more use than it has in the last 10 months (since minecraft was discovered), and the kids talked. A lot.

There was further rethinking at about 4pm when the kids continued to keep talking, mostly about minecraft. It was lovely.

We made it through (with a lot of talking) and everyone agreed it was a good day. Though they haven’t volunteered a repeat!

The other day my daughter rushed into my office (bedroom) after school. Guess what we learned about today mum?

Umm…

Puberty.

Cue muting my line and turning off the camera.

I made the mistake of asking one too many questions. Apparently they hadn’t covered the making babies part. So we did.

So that’s how a baby is made, my daughter observed, so kind of like chemistry then?

Umm… I guess you could say sperm and egg fusing is like chemistry (although as a friend observed, it’s actually biology…)

Nah mum, I meant like when a boy and girl kiss…

I think that confirms that there has been way too much Netflix.

At that point, she decided that was enough of that and wandered away. Just in time for me to answer a question on the call. I just about held it together.

She’d obviously been paying attention to her lessons though because when her older brother asked what puberty was (he missed those lessons due to Covid), her response was rapid…

“You’ll get hair on your pits, hair on your bits, hair on your face and your voice will drop.”

Job done.

My son came into the room the other day and announced he had a deep philosophy.

Cue throat clearing and dramatic pause…

“The darkest nights have the brightest stars.”

Riiiight.

That might have been profound if it hadn’t come directly from Bumblebee, the Transformers movie, which we’d watched the previous night.

Still if that was his takeaway, perhaps tv ain’t all bad.

It has definitely felt appropriate as we’re starting to see signs of spring, with daffodils and blossoms starting to appear. Added to that, the kids are going back to school on Monday…

While my daughter is a little bit reluctant (she’s worried the snacks won’t be as available and there won’t be as many breaks?!), I have to admit I’ll be very pleased to drop them off at the school gate.

The stars are aligning…!

A rule for life.

That’s what my son, 10, announced the other day.

I had to stop what I was doing to listen to this gem of wisdom.

You should never drink orange juice after brushing your teeth.

He’s set for life…

As the snow failed to deliver, our new favourite lockdown activity has been getting out early to crack ice puddles.

The dog walkers may have been a bit bemused the other day when they saw said son rolling around on the ground in his ski gear, sans snow (luckily the deer poo was frozen). Or when they saw him lying on ice to see if it would break. Or when they saw me rescuing him from that ice when he realised it would break if he tried to stand up.

It brought back memories of racing down the hill to beat the neighbouring kids to the bus stop to break the ice there. That was much more fun than the trek back up the hill in the afternoon (although it has been very handy to roll out as example of how much harder we had it when I was growing up).

They are obviously very grateful.

But they have discovered another rule for life….

Make sure the water doesn’t go over the top of your gumboots.

We’re two weeks into the new term of Home Academy Primary…

I have to admit I was a bit dark for a couple of days when the return to home schooling was announced. I had got my head around a fortnight as we’re in the local London lockdown, but to have it increase to six weeks with the prospect of the whole term took a bit longer.

Obviously, logically I know we are lucky with our set up, and we’re in a much better position than many others, but it is hard not to think wistfully of NZ, and the prospect of roaming free, without thinking about masks, (un)social distancing, hand sanitiser, and English lessons.

However, we seem to be getting into a routine. The idiom lesson was quite fun. Rattle your dags anyone?

Although once noticed, it’s hard to unnotice just how many idioms I use…

We’re also part way through a science experiment. My hypothesis is the fizzy drinks were necessary so that the kids could drink the half not needed, and that the length of the experiment will be a factor of how quickly the milk will take to go bad.

Eggs anyone?

So it’s not the Christmas we were expecting. This year was to be spent in NZ. The first time we’d been back for a family Christmas in six years.

It went the way of most plans this year.

Admittedly, I was pretty grateful it meant we didn’t have to quarantine for two weeks, the four of us, in a hotel room. Somehow I don’t think we would have all come out of it in one piece…

Instead, the kids went shopping for presents independently for the first time, we’ve done a tour of local parks, and my daughter explained that we’ll have to wear face masks this evening so Santa can come to visit. Of course, he’ll need one too (that can cover his beard) as he’ll be visiting lots of households this evening.

So that answers the question about whether she still believes then…

The turkey has been collected after some festive, socially distanced, best of British queueing, the presents are wrapped and the negotiations for opening said presents has begun.

Now we just have to find some hand sanitiser for Santa…

Last week, my work did an update which finished off with Alicia Keys playing a few songs. It was quite surreal having her playing in my ‘office’ (aka bedroom).

My daughter sitting on my knee for ‘Girl on fire’ was pretty inspiring.

My son then walked in and broke down when he realised that dad was out and he only had me to solve the problem of a too large glue stick for a glue gun needed to complete his rocket homework assignment.

Luckily with a knife and a cutting board anything is achievable (the potato peeler was quickly discarded, and I can confirm no one ate the ‘cheese’).

It was at the point of gluing one of the thrusters to the rocket (successfully I might add) that he observed he had not asked me to help sooner as I am “not very detailed or precise”.

I replied that actually people at my work probably think I am fairly detailed and precise.

He looked slightly aghast and replied “That surprises me mum.”

Obviously, my Lego Avoidance strategy has been extremely successful!