The family that is. Well now they have arrived home and we are 36 hours in. This time whilst they were away (the dog remained and continued to drive me crazy), I felt strangely unsettled and irritated beyond belief with myself because I didn’t get as much done in their absence as I intended. Sometimes I dont understand myself but can only conclude that I am a contrary Mary.
The time arrived for their homecoming and I decided to go up to Kings Cross to meet them, what I didn’t know is that this station is the only station on earth to have a platform zero, at first I thought it was some sort of error and had to check with the information desk. I felt pure happiness when they ran along the platform complete with luggage to hug me and full of resolutions about how I was going to do better, we were going to have more fun and be more on top of things. Hay maybe we could do some Halloween games over the weekend, I have even bought some apples in preparation for bobbing.
This feeling remained until Saturday night. In retrospect (it is now Sunday morning) I should be quite pleased that it lasted for so long. After all, I had predicted arguments by the time we got home from Kings Cross. The boys had eaten a big lunch at a local Cafe, and I had the audacity to buy lots of humus and pitta breads for tea. These elements usually count in our house as an enjoyable vaguely nutritious meal, but today the boys weren’t having it. No they didn’t want it, they didn’t like it. Since when do they not like pitta breads? I had even bought white ones on the understanding that they had to be white, god forbid I buy wholemeal. Older boy wanted supernoodles, I was tempted to type that sentence in lower case cause I feel so ashamed. I really would prefer it if supernoodles were not a favourite food. Why can they not like sushi or burritos or goats cheese salad or lentil soup, or something that would give me a sense of pride? As it happened, even the supernoodles were wrong, husband had bought the new pot noodle style supernoodles which funnily enough came in pots, I found out later that these were meant for his own consumption, this didn’t help. Naively I assumed that as they were the same flavour, they would look the same and be the same as the traditional packet supernoodles that you make in a pan. Older boy looked at the pot and immediately announced that it wasn’t what he wanted, husband agreed to eat it to avoid waste. Younger boy started a war because it contained peas and he does not like veg, he refused to allow husband to pick them out. By this time my soul had died, I felt completely responsible for yet another mealtime that had gone horribly wrong. Younger boy announced several times that it wasn’t fair and indeed it wasn’t, I certainly felt hard done by.
We slept on it (after the boys had eaten some toast), and Sunday is so far proving to be a better day. I like to think that we all benefitted from getting a bit more sleep, thanks clocks. There is something amazing about it being an hour earlier than you think it is and having more time. Older boy has gone to his football tournament and I am planning to do a meal plan to avoid further arguments, even if the contents of it are going to be mind numbingly boring.