The Meanest Mum?

So The Tweenager, who loves school, said this morning that he didn't feel well and could he please stay at home. He said this whilst tucking into his second pain-au-chocolat which he wanted to wash down with lemonade. I must say, I am not very sympathetic when it comes to my children being ill - unless I see actual physical evidence like streams of snot, sick, blood or broken bones.
"What's the matter, darling?" I said (annoyed).
"I feel very sick" he moaned.
"Well," I replied, "You seem to be tucking into your breakfast okay so I say until we see vomit there is school."
It's nearly half two and the school haven't called yet so I'm pretty certain he's fine. Sometimes my parental judgement is so spot on, especially when I've got a day planned drinking coffee with my mates.

Hair - Not The Musical

There are different opinions in this house when it comes to the subject of hair.

I cannot, will not, leave the house without my hair straightened. If this means ignoring the children killing each other and burning The Toddler with my GHDs while he clings to me, then so be it. I once didn't do it because I was going straight from the school run to walk the dog in the rain and it's not an understatement to say that I frightened a number of small children.

Me without the wonder of GHDs

Hair has become an issue recently. Firstly, I got The Toddler's hair cut because it's his christening next week. Nobody has RSVP'd to the invites I only remembered to give out yesterday, so it's not gonna be that much of a special occasion. But his hair was getting a bit too much HughGrant-like so I got it lobbed off. He has gone from floppy blonde cutie to bad boy with rubbish hair overnight. He has had a short back & sides and looks like he has been sheep sheared. I was thinking of getting the barber to do 666 in tramlines on his head but didn't suppose that would go down too well with the Rector.

The Tomboy is obsessed with getting her lovely long locks cut into a skinhead. At every opportunity she will tuck her hair into a hat. She says "Because I've got long hair, people think I am a girl". I say "But you are a girl, you don't have a willy". She says "I am growing one so I need my hair cut". Mmmmm not sure how to parent this one.

The Tweenager wants to grow his hair long. His mop is currently at that in-betweeny length so it looks like Lego hair. I have bought some pinky coloured hair bands and left them in his room but that hasn't deterred him. I tried telling him that I don't like boys with long hair and he replied "Well then that means you don't like Jesus." Last night he ate his dinner as if it was The Last Supper. He told his siblings "This is the very final time you will ever see me with hair this long" to which there was a minute's silence, before I reached for the hair clippers.

You can see why this mum is starting to suffer from grey hair, can't you.

Change Or Strange?

So I actually should be concentrating on getting The Toddler to sleep through and sorting out the kids' table manners but instead I am fannying around looking at houses and thinking of changes that can be made like moving schools. It's out with the old and in with the new. Maybe. In a brave attempt to combat my Lazyitus syndrome, I am trying to put wheels in motion by making changes and getting out of the rut. I have been isolating - which basically means hibernating - I have not really seen anyone except my core friends and The Dog, oh yeah and my family.
You all know about The Toddler's sleeping habits by now, but I haven't mentioned much about the children's table manners. Comments such as "Get your food off your head" and "Peas do not belong in ears" are quite common at family meal time. The Toddler will only eat if he is scooting around on his little bike. The Tomboy likes to take her time which actually means likes to piss about for at least an hour. The Tweenager isn't too bad but will say he is full after six spoonfuls then ten minutes later say he is starving and please can he have a big pudding.
So yes, I should be working on this. But I am not. With the New Year, I am trying to shake things up. I believe that moving house and fucking around with the kids schools will make my life not so boring. My philosophy being There Is GAIN To Be Made From CHANGE (as long as it's in the right direction).
It's all very strange. I can't explain because I don't understand what I am doing. I'm not particularly bored of my daily routine but in an attempt to be a bit different (and maybe keep my coolness), I'm meddling with the dullness.
By turning forty last year, I've realised that if anything is going to change around here then I have to make some waves. It's taken me eighteen months to actually get off my backside and start moving. But make no mistake, this motion does not involve hoovering or ironing. Although saying that, I did a bit of housey stuff today by taking pictures off the walls and putting them on other walls. The feng shui of the house is better and already I feel like I've done something proactive.
So yes, there are going to be some changes around here. Even if my strange behaviour is going to end up being explained by the fact that it's me, aged 41, going through "The Change".