NotSheep

I keep thinking today is Wednesday; I don’t know why. I don’t seem to have a very good grasp of time these days. I can’t believe it’s already the end of February. I can’t believe I’m 38 - when did that happen?! And I definitely can’t believe that Jack will be four years old in a couple of weeks. Or that I’ve been blogging for nearly a year.

There was a sprinkling of snow on the ground here this morning (that’ll be because I was calling it spring-like the other day then…) but nothing you could even roll into a snowball. There was quite impressive hail later though. Still, while it’s not too cold to walk into town, it’s cold enough to give me an excuse not to bother

I showed George and Freddy how to make their own porridge (using the microwave). Freddy likes honey in his; the others are with me on the subject of honey and prefer jam and/or raisins, occasionally brown sugar instead. Once they’d all eaten, I sat down with Freddy to help him write a story from his English book. His handwriting is just about legible, but he’s got two parents with poor handwriting and he’s left-handed, so he’s got a lot to overcome His story was short but well-told, and once written, he copied it into his blog (with help from George).

George had a stomachache which started while he was eating his porridge, apparently, and ended up lying on the sofa with one of those heat-bag-things on his tum, but it seems to have done the trick, because he was up and lively an hour later. I’m always slightly wary about this kind of thing, because I spent four days with a stomachache when I was 12, before the doctor decided that maybe I should be in hospital - and about four hours later, my appendix burst. My appendix was not where it was expected to be (which is why it took so long to diagnose), but much higher up, and we were told it might run in the family - so I end up prodding sore bellies without really looking for anything more specific than a very tender spot.

We did some more of our Romans in Britain project with Barney, George and Freddy - with “help” from Jack (hm) - today talking about how the Roman forces were organised, and about how the Roman Empire was governed. We read that 20 emperors were murdered in a span of something like 70 years (can’t quite remember now and can’t be bothered to go and look again), and we wondered how the 20th must have felt when he became emperor - a tad anxious, we reckon

Barney and George did some French, and both blogged. George also did some ICT - both he and Barney have spent a long time with a paint-program this week. I scoffed the leftovers from last night’s dinner for lunch, and left Barney making sandwiches for everyone else while I nursed Toby to sleep. He’s been a bit unsettled this week - just not quite his usual self. I can see his first tooth just sitting right under his gum, so maybe that’s the reason.

George, Freddy and Jack are now playing with Flubber (the instructions said it would be good for a couple of weeks, but ours is fine after about five) and Barney is - well, I don’t know what he’s doing, but reading’s a fair bet. We were talking on Sunday about what he’d like to do when he’s older, and he says that he’d either like to be a scientist or a writer. “But,” he confessed, “the truth is, I like reading more than I like writing.” - which led to discussion of how he could get paid for reading, and now he’s thinking about a career in publishing

I can’t believe he’s 11 years old either. He seems so grown-up one minute, so much still a child the next. It’s almost scary how fast the time with children passes. I’m trying to bear in mind what Sue wrote a few weeks ago, when her first son was preparing to leave home; she recalled when her children were young and she found herself wishing the time wouldn’t pass so slowly - until she met a child who had numerous medical problems which meant he would be dependent on his family for the rest of his life:

I was humbled, and saddened. I also realised that it’s right and good for children to grow up, to develop new skills, and eventually to become independent. I started to give thanks for the contented passing of the days, and my children’s growing skills, rather than regretting the swift passage of time.

There’s a comic-strip here which sums it up in a slightly different, but equally thought-provoking way