I'm afraid it's one of those Mummy posts, you know the ones, the proud Mummy ones.  Sometimes however, they're just necessary and quite frankly bloody well deserved.

I'm always proud or The Spawn.  They're good kids (apparently).  The end of the school year brought the inevitable; school reports.

All we ask is that The Spawn behave and try their best.  We neither expect nor ask or any more.

Thing Two came home with rows upon rows of A's for effort and attainment.  Her year 2 SATS were streaks ahead of where they should be and her teachers comment was positively glowing.  The icing on the cake is that her peers voted and she'll be on the School Council next year too. She is a model student, her attitude, behaviour, attainment, social skills etc are consistently unfaultable.  It's not hard to see why her teachers adore her.

Thing One brought a similarly good report home, his consisting of A's & B's and his 'levels' are consistent with those a few years ahead of him.  We're always especially astounded by his consistent achievements seeing as he is one of the youngest in his year too.  His teachers comment was lovely and the Head Teachers comment said he was a good role model for the school.  We're half convinced he has an alter personality because although we love him dearly he's incredibly hard work at home yet at school and with relatives he's fantastic, maybe he just doesn't like us?

Thing One applied to be a prefect seeing as he'll be in year 6 in September, reached the interview stage and nailed it.  For the third year running he received the science award for his year and then came the bolt out of the blue.  Not only is he a prefect but at the awards presentation evening we discovered that from all the prefects he's been chosen to be Head Boy! Yes my eyes may have leaked.  Twice.

Naturally there's a downside, lets just say some of his peers aren't very gracious about his achievements and he received several downright mean comments suggesting he's undeserving of the title, somehow though I think I'll stick with the Head teachers judgement skills as opposed to the judgement of year 5 boys.

Yet the most important thing to us is that The Spawn are happy at school everything else is icing
 on the cake.

So yes, I'm a proud Mum and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Just another day

You know you're in for a bad day when it starts with The Toddler attempting to kick the shit out of Thing One, again and then decides to practice pole dancing up a siblings leg.

I'm doing a mighty fine impression of Rudolph with my nose oh so red.  I'm temporarily dying from illness.  I want to pummel myself into unconsciousness just to have a break from sneezing.  If my nose doesn't quit running I'll be tempted to punch it off my face.  My head feels light and spinny whilst my limbs feel laden.  Everything feels slurred.

At least I have new socks though.  Christmas socks even.  Ha! Take that oh Bah Humbug Husband o'mine.

Christmas shopping phase two has been completed, granted mainly online.  Only two more phases to go, neither of which can start until next month.

The Toddler appears to have graduated from watching himself poo whilst on the loo, gazing between his legs to a rather obscure position of leaning over so far that his head nearly touches his feet, yet still not actually falling off the precarious perch his little cheeks have on his seat.

The was a catastrophic disaster.  The Husband decided to use The Witching Hour (the time after tea yet before bath) to run an errand.  Upon asking Things One and Two to tidy the front room, The Toddler decided to fix an unbroken window with a toy hammer which in itself was fine, pick your battles and all that jazz however I had to act when he decided to trash the room, whilst his siblings attempted to tidy it.

Having carted him upstairs to run the bath, he commenced operation screamathon which consisted of me sat by the bedroom gate whilst he attempted to destroy it, first with his body, then his mind and finally with his volume levels.  Seeing as the gate refused to submit he then decided to destroy me, or my hearing at the very least as he screamed directly into my left ear.  It's still hurting several hours later.  I remained sat on the floor, calmly reiterating exactly why he wasn't going downstairs whilst he continued to shout...and scream.  A lot.  Obviously this was the perfect time for Things One and Two to fall out rather tremendously.  Give me strength Gin.

The Spawn

Following on from the seasons song Thing Two composed and performed for me whilst I attempted to pee in peace, she sang it to the whole of her year at school, on her own.  Sometimes her confidence astounds me, it's all situation dependant.  She'll perform like a diva at home, stand in front of 60 children at school and recite her own song yet take her to a restaurant she's never been in before and she turns into some morose limpet.  Her teacher suggested she write a song for Harvest, in typical Thing Two style, she wrote two.  She sang both today to her class and they're going to use one of them in their upcoming class assembly.  She never ceases to amaze me.

Thing One appears to have been undertaking a series of tests at school this past week to which he has no idea as to why they're all doing them or even if let alone when they'll find out the results.  I was initially rather worried that he had a female teacher this year as he tends to respond better to strong male figures yet his new teacher is absolutely adorable and is terribly enthusiastic.  Her niche is literature and she is positively aglow with the fact Thing One is a book worm and is writing fantasy stories and he finds her enthusiasm encouraging.  He;s coming home smiling, with stickers and tales of excitment.

The Toddler generally entertains himself in independent play during the day.  Just watching him mesmerises me.  His games are so in depth and engrossing for him.  He has a million worlds in his head.   He possibly has the strongest imagination in the family.  Today however he decided go involve us and this morning consisted of 10 books, four jigsaws, Peppa Pig, cutting out catalogue pictures to form a Christmas list and yet he still found time to insult me with his insults du jour being 'plank', 'moron' and 'smarty pants'  I'm not quite sure as to whether I should be impressed or insulted.  I'll admit to being greatly proud when whilst reading about potatoes being treated for disease (yes, really) upon the word disease he immediately breaks into an Anthrax rendition of 'Disease! Disease! Spreading the disease!'

I should be asleep, I'm bone tired and soul tired yet insomnia is paying yet another visit.  So i'll leave you with a toddlerism from tonight and one of Thing Two's jokes....

Me: 'Go to sleep!'
The Toddler: 'Do you want to see the mountain on my foot?'
[The Toddler takes his sock of and points to his ankle. He then makes me put the sock back on]
Me: 'Wow, that's a super cool mountain.  Go to sleep now'
The Toddler: 'Do you want to see the mountain on my other foot?'
[rinse, repeat]

Argh!

Thing Two:  There were two brothers called Stupid and Manners.  They were climbing at tree when stupid fell out so he went to the Dr.  The Dr asked him his name he said 'stupid!.' The Doctor said 'don't be rude, where's your manners?'  so Stupid said 'still in the tree'

See what I have to work with?