I Don’t Like Tuesdays

Tuesdays are tough, especially on not enough sleep. At least I didn’t have to cope with Midi Minx weeing everywhere – yesterday she peed on the floor twice before lunchtime, each time within the 5 min countdown to absolutely having to leave the house right now o’clock :/

Anyway, we managed to sort out getting school dinner tickets for Maxi (she was so excited about having salmon fishcakes that her little face fell when we discovered I’d been looking at the wrong menu, and today it was only her 3rd favourite: sausage and pasta bake. Bless!). She proudly marched into her class no problem and me and her sisters zoomed off to the swimming pool.

As we were early, I decided to go on in and just splash about for the extra 15 minutes. Tell you what, I won’t be making that mistake again! We had the whole pool to ourselves and both girls happily jumped and splashed and shot down the little dolphin slide. I worried that little Mini Minx was beginning to flag as her lesson started. By the end of the half hour, her lips were going purple and she was crying, so I knocked the lesson on the head. Up till then, though, both Midi and Mini loved it and did so well. Mini is starting to make doggy paddle movements on her tummy, almost relaxed into a starfish float and is so competent at ‘holding on’ at the edge of the pool. Her favourite thing is for me to sing Humpty Dumpty and her to fall into or jump into the pool/my arms with a huge giggle. Midi is such a little fish. She was swimming on her own on her front and back with 2 float noodles. She met every challenge her beloved teacher set her and really relished jumping and splashing around. I love seeing how confident and just so bloody joyful she is!

Getting out wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t as bad as last week – I even got to wash my hair and have a basic rinse of my body (so I only mildly honked of chlorine the rest of the day). Mini actually stopped crying for a few seconds in the shower, too. It’s all progress…

On a roll, we did a quick dash round Tesco to buy essentials. And lamb chops on a discount – yum yum for tomorrow! (Note: they were indeed fantastic: juicy and tender). Midi happily sang “Which Coloured House Are We Going To?” at the top of her lungs, completely unself-consciously. One woman started giggling at her  – she was obviously another Balamory Mum.

Another chase back home, quick lunch, march down the hill to park Midi in nursery with her new best friend, big march back up the hill, Mini down for a nap, mental race round the house for an hour turning it into a real human house from a chimps enclosure, chase back to the school to pick up Maxi, loiter for 30 mins, pick up Midi and back to the swimming pool. (And breathe)

Alas I didn’t get to see much of Maxi’s lesson because Midi and Mini were playing up, were far too hot, both needed the toilet and the parents were 4 deep at the spectators’ wall. However, what I could see suggested that Maxi’s swimming is going backwards. Today she refused to jump in the deep end, and not only insisted on holding onto the pole, she sat down first too. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, just mentioned it to her – she said she had felt too nervous, so I left it at that.

However, I’m putting this together with the way that she’s always last out of school because the others push in front of her (she says). I suggested she push back. She insisted this would be too rude. She also refuses to ever hit anyone back, even her little thug of a sister. I don’t know what to do. As her mummy, I want her to grow up able to hold her own, to stand confident and not be pushed around. She truly is meek and I don’t think this is a good or helpful trait in an adult (which is what I’m trying to teach her to grow up to become).

Though I’m not sure I’m fit to teach anyone a single thing about being a grown-up – the lack of sleep, the extreme swimming pool heat, Maxi’s extreme whingeing and constant dawdling pretty much sent me over the edge. As I nagged her to hurry up and get dressed I realised I’d spent most of the day nagging and chiding her – hurry up and walk smartly down the hill, stop wandering towards the road, keep up, stop talking, go over there, no you can’t have another cuddle I’ve already given you 5, hurry up and get undressed, hurry up and get showered, hurry up and get dressed, move it, move it, move it. Poor little girl! Those kind of messages are hardly going to make her feel loved and cherished, is it? (Note: it’s now Thurs and I’ve made such an effort to stop nagging Maxi: it’s mostly working)

As a kind of ‘sorry’, and to let us end the day on at least a nicer note, I said I’d wash and dry Maxi’s Rapunzel hair. We settled down to brush all the tugs out and it only took The Boss 6 reminders to get Mini away from us before he complied – bonus! So I chatted with Maxi about her hair, telling her how beautiful it is, and that she truly is a real-life Rapunzel. She airily chirped, “Yes, I guess you’re a lot like her Evil Mother”. When I stopped choking, I pouted at her. She lifted her bent fairy wand (thanks to Midi’s random violence), swept it in an arch at me and quipped, “I can fix that smile for you!” I couldn’t help laughing, so we had a right cackle together. God, I love listening to Maxi’s laugh – it’s a proper infectious gurgle. It’s been like that since she was a baby. I remember taping it for my mum for her to listen to when she felt at her lowest (right after she got diagnosed with lung cancer). Anyway, it’s one of the sounds in my life that I don’t hear often enough, and it just seems to hit the ‘sunshine and happiness’ note in my heart every time.

Dinner was a bit hit and miss. I’m recording the recipe because The Boss liked it, though the kids were a bit more reticent.

Wrappy Old Trout

 Dry-fry a pork steak per person for about 12 mins on medium, turning it every few minutes. Let the pork rest for a few mins. Nuke a tortilla wrap in the microwave for 10 secs. Smear about a tablespoon of Philadelphia over the wrap, then smear about a teaspoon of seedy mustard over that. Slice the pork thinly and plop on the wrap. Add some spinach leaves. Add about 4 slices of tinned peach (with the syrup/juice drained well). Wrap, cut in half and eat.

Well, us grown-ups liked it and the kids liked the cheesy-mustardy peaches. If I made it again, I’d add slices of stem ginger and add some sliced garlic to the frying pork about 3 mins before it was ready. Now *that* might be yum!

6 thoughts on “I Don’t Like Tuesdays

  1. Reading this makes me panic about becoming a mom. I’m currently pregnant with our first and though everyone tells me I’ll just *know* what to do…I’m not so sure I believe them.

    • Hi Jessica! First of all, congratulations! Second, don’t panic. It’ll all be ok – I promise. And often it’ll be completely wonderful, too. This blog post was just about a particularly tough day for me, because I do struggle with having 3 little girls so close in age and all needing me at once. But I still have far more brilliant days with them than difficult days. And you will, too xxx

  2. I really can’t believe how similar Joe and Maxi are! Everything you’ve said there is completely him, even down to the swimming going backwards when he started school. He’s toughened up a lot in the last year or so though and is much more able to take care of himself now. Maxi will learn that too. But as for being last out each day… don’t expect that to change in a hurry!!! x

    • I know, they really are…and as I said before, if Jasmine and Lily ever met up, they’d achieve the universal critical mass of minxdom and the world would implode!

      That’s reassuring to know that she’ll probably toughen up a little without any serious input from me – I can put my Cruella Deville persona back in its box, then, and breathe a sigh of cowardly relief that it won’t be me hardening my little innocent up. And I guess I’ll just leave the swimming to sort itself out, then – I hadn’t really considered that it could be all the other change going on in her life that’s affecting it.

      Cheers! xx

  3. Pingback: You Can Tell Today Is Tuesday « (Reasons Why I'm a) Grumpy Old Trout

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