An element of peace has been restored mainly down to Thing One and Thing Two buggering back to school, punctured only by the verbal wars between The Husband and I and Toddler Tantrums. However I can't help but feel they were dreadfully cheated out of the summer holidays due to kid appalling weather (not to mention financial distress, chicken pox and a poorly ankle). What should have been playfully long days and gentle nights with blue skies, sun and water shortages was replaced with grey skies, storms, bickering and muddy puddles.  Puddle Jumping in August? Really? What strange alchemy were the gods brewing when they created August this year. It's The Husbands fault really. I keep telling him he's single handedly dooming the earth and making the polar bears somewhat disgruntled through using aerosols.

Earlier in the year we had a rather savage period of disgustingly high temperatures, you know, back before the holidays when the kids were at school burning to a crisp. I had a small maternal panic and a manic online shop for summer clothes whilst I hissed and seeked refuge indoors, with The curtains closed. I have a tendency to burst into flames in strong sunlight (and churches), or at the very least my rabid temper does. I don't do summer.

Yet the summer holidays arrive and it rains...and rains....and rains.

Then it rained some more.

The Things paced like caged wilder-things swinging between bouts of melancholy, rage and utter frustration. The friction was palpable and the air abrasive.

And still it rained.

So thoughts of sandals and sun hats soured and turned to hunting for wellies (one of those things, like p.e kit plimsols that you forget to replace until after they're actually needed. I blame it on school shoe shopping induced post traumatic stress) and waterproofs for the random impromptu bouts of puddle Jumping also known as desperation tactics to prevent siblingocide. However these escapades usually ended rather abruptly when the behaviour raced the rain into the gutter.

Yet, the first week back at school and the afternoons are saturated with a sunny haze, pleasant breeze and blue skies, perfect exploring weather and yet we find ourselves sans our chief explorers as they fester away in class rooms.

Arse.

Not to worry with any luck we'll have snow again this year so the replenishing of the grim weather gear won't have been in total vain and I'm sure The Toddler will appreciate a waterproof winter warmer for the inevitable wet school runs in the sling and random cheeky rampages through the copious blankets of soggy Autumn leaves.

However, be warned spawn o'mine, if you outgrow them too quickly I shall throw the mother of all tantrums and put you all on eBay.

The great British summer

Thunder and lightening very very frightening .....

It's raining, it's pouring...

Did you miss me?  Thought not.  Unfortunately our monitor went poof and it's soul destroying updating on my phone, or so my thumb professes.  Yet by the wonders of freecycle we now have a monitor again.  Hurrah.

To say Half Term is a bit of a washout would be somewhat of an understatement.  Thing One and Thing Two had been loving their freedom at playing outside with their friends and the un-jungled garden however, it's too wet to play out and besides, the swing needs re cementing.  So in lieu of anything to do they've been intermittently trying to throttle each other and mine and The Husbands fragile sanity.  In what is seemingly tradition the past few years now the school holidays are here The Mother has jetted off to her place in Spain so we can't even have respite by sending them to sleep at her house and due to aforementioned weather it's rather difficult to separate them to let them have some space as usually The Husband would take Thing One on an epic walk.

I don't think The Toddler has quite forgiven Thing One and Thing Two yet for interfering with his peaceful sibling free days.

In a moment of temporary insanity whilst The Husband was having some 'Him Time' out and about on his bike in the rain, I made the fateful decision that I should take the kids not only Puddle Jumping, but Puddle Jumping alone.  Just as we were about to leave The Husband returned and felt obliged to accompany s yet made no secret of his loathing of the idea, apparently it was cold and wet and simply not an enjoyable prospect.  Obviously it was a different kind of rain when he was cycling.  Near the local shops there is a car park that has huge puddles in it sop there we headed.  The Sprogs were rabid with excitement and had a fantastic time despite The Toddler falling several times yet the wee trooper didn't so much as shed a tear unlike Thing Two.  She bumped into The Toddler and that was it, game over.  The Husband declared it was all a terrible idea, my idea and thus my fault so homeward bound we all marched, soggy and disenchanted with Thing Two still snivelling.

In a rare moment of domesticity I decided to hang some washing out the other day, typically it rained.  The moment of domesticity passed and the washing is still out there.  It's still raining.

I actually like the rain, in a way.  I find peace in the sound of it and solace in the smell.  I get an urge to just go out, alone, and lay in it.  One day I'll humour that urge.