What memories are made of...

Yesterday, we had P’s last ever party! I’m serious. Never, ever, again.

We hadn’t even got all the boys in the cars before he threw his first tantrum, which until yesterday, I had hoped he was past.

It was the seating arrangements that originally irked him, but what really set him off was a young teacher trying to reason with him. Don’t you just love the new ones? All enthusiastic imagining that their training will hold them in good staid when dealing with an awkward child. I tried to warn her (though the fact that the other teachers all moved away should have been warning enough!). Am I evil taking delight in her naivety? Probably, but it was fun watching a professional discover something university couldn’t teach!

Once her arms and legs were suitably bruised I showed her my dog training technique (consisting of walking away, opening the door and shouting ‘Now! or you stay here!’), and was relieved to find it still works! (One word of warning with this technique, you will be tested and have to follow through, so make sure your little-darling/dog is left in a safe environment on the first few attempts, till they realise who's boss ;o))

As P wasn’t finished spitting insults, we put him in the front with daddy and turned up the radio so his repeated screams of ‘I HATE you all!’ were drowned out, along with his fathers threats if he didn’t stop. This worked well except for the headache I earned after spending twenty minutes in the back of the car with loud music and shouting boys.

Once there, all looked rosy. They sat through the instructions and played the first game without becoming too hyper. But this didn’t continue through the second match.I didn’t actually discover what set P off the second time until we got home, because he wasn’t making any sense when his father carried him out. Turned out it was something to do with his gun not reloading (I find this strangely poetic, like it knows something!).

Luckily the second episode didn’t last too long, and when the scoreboard of hits came up, his mood improved hugely as it turns out he’s remarkably accurate even with only one load! And one of his little friends had a super compliment for him, ‘Hey, you’re really good, P. Look at my score, I’m crap!’ (ah, out of the mouths of babes…)

Last but not least came the meal, and P managed to redeem himself in comparison with his friends’ table manners, and he remained polite as the party ended. But still… parties for P are a trial I’m not in a hurry to repeat!

In contrast we had the girls’ sports day this morning, which provided an opportunity for me to remember why I love my job!

Much to her Papa’s delight, J won a couple of her races – which of course was delightful for me too, but as it was Papa shouting and cheering to the point of embarrassment, I’ll call it his delight. J is his favourite (he thinks we haven’t worked this out!) and I think he’s making up for all the years he had to watch me lose; I just hope it doesn’t give him a heart attack or rile one of the other parents to the point of bopping him on the nose!

S was a big surprise! She might have short legs, but this girl can run! It was amazing how she shot past all the competition, and I can only assume being chased by brothers pretending to be monsters has hidden benefits! (S is in pink, on the right)


And talking of brothers, we persuaded P to run in the older siblings’ race. It was nice because he knew some of them from his days at nursery. He stood next to his old mate Joe, who is the tallest seven year old I’ve ever seen! We all thought Joe would win it with legs so long, even him – and that was his mistake! P really gave it his best, and as the ribbon loomed, he drew close to Joe then launched himself in the finest rugby touchdown I have ever seen him do! This is the first thing P has ever won, and you should have seen his face! His friend Joe was a gentleman and congratulated P with a handshake, which I think gave P something to think about, and hopefully remember, the next time he loses.


It was a lovely day with everyone in a good mood and treating each other nicely, lots of laughter, hugs and kisses, even from the boys! These days don’t come along as often as they should and they’re the ones I cherish and live for, and most importantly remind me of how lucky I am.

In fact I’m lulled enough into thinking P's behaviour yesterday might simply be a one time slip-up due to the excitement of the day. Here’s hoping!