The best laid plans...

Sophie came down to breakfast this morning, took a sip of her orange juice, and dissolved into tears. Our first thought was that something had happened at last night's party to upset her - but she said not. And when she threw up a few minutes later, we realised she was ill. (We're insightful like that). Steve only had to go into college for the first half-hour of the day, so he looked after her for the morning. He's a sweet boy, I must say. I'd been going to go to the work Christmas lunch, but when the room started spinning around me when I was teaching the first lesson I realised I was sick too. I managed to get through the morning's teaching, then walked home (veeeerrry slowly) and climbed into bed with Sophiepie. Ugh. No work Christmas party, and no trip to Ikea tonight. Think we might reschedule my birthday too - I want to go ice-skating and considering I can't even walk properly at the moment, that's clearly not an option. Unless I wake up tomorrow feeling perfect again... Bobby's being awfully sweet, has brought us dinner in bed, and my computer, and paracetamol ... I do have a very nice family.

Autumn sunshine

Marking essays in the sun outside.



Cartwheeling in the sun, after the sleep-over friends had gone home.



Washing drying on the line. (All now ironed and put away ... I think, of all the chores, putting duvets back inside duvet covers has got to be the most hideous).



Bike riding.



Think I'm going to be stiff tomorrow; I'm still tired from today's very hilly 20 mile ride. I'd do anything for one more day of weekend; I'm just not ready to face the coming week. It's going to be a hectic one; I have observations to organise, documentation to find and submit for my payrise, open evening on Tuesday night, and Weybridge on Wednesday night. Ugh.

I have the best children ever.

It is Mother's Day here today, and I was awakened very early by the girls climbing into bed with us, bearing gifts. Gifts which they had bought, secretly, by themselves, with their own money, with no involvement from Bobby. I got chocolates and candles and earrings from them, and - a little later, from my more practical-minded, later-rising son - some seeds for our vegetable-patch-to-be and a bird feeder. It's not the gifts per se that have touched me so much, it's the amount of thought and love that went into the choosing and buying of them. I am so lucky to be mother to these people.

Sophie also gave me a card, with tokens in it for various tasks - doing the kitchen, making me a cup of tea and so forth. And on the back she'd written an acrostic poem. Here it is :

Best mom ever!
Excellent!
Sophisticated!
Trendy!

Morbid? No!
Optimistic
Mother!

Excellent!
Very Special!
Excellent!
Radiant!

I think I am going to get a T-shirt with "Morbid? No!" printed on the front. And possibly "Excellent!" on the back.

I had a mammogram today.

It was a bit horrifying to find that breasts can really be squished flat like pancakes. Top to bottom and side to side.

When my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer in May 2004, my then-GP had suggested that I get a mammogram done, so that I would have a baseline for future reference. I was anxious about the idea - worried about the radiation, worried about the possibility of false positives - so I decided not to think about it for a while. But most of the reading I've done seems to indicate the benefits of screening outweigh the risks, so last time I went to the doctor (about my weird bruises) I thought I'd mention it to her. She was rather negative about the mammogram idea, and said that because my mother had post-menopausal breast cancer I wasn't at any greater risk than any other woman, statistically speaking, so I should probably just wait till the routine screening kicks in at 50. But, she said, she'd refer me to a breast specialist so I could discuss it with him. And today was the appointment with the breast specialist.

The appointment was for 9.30. I saw him at 11.45. Luckily I had my book (which is well worth reading, by the way), so the wait wasn't actually too painful.

Once I was finally in with the specialist, he performed a breast exam, and then repeated the same things that my GP had told me, so I thought that would be that, and I could go away and come back in 13 years time.

[God, I can't believe that I'll be 50 in 13 years time. Bloody terrifying.]

But no, then he went on to write me two scripts for mammograms. One for today, one for this time next year.

Which took my by surprise, to say the least. But, all the reading I'd been doing recently seems to indicate that the benefits of mammograms outweigh the risks, so I was actually quite pleased.

More waiting for the actual mammogram, a brief interlude of squishing, and I was back at work at five past two, just in time for a fire drill which involved everyone standing outside in the rain for ten minutes.

So, reading aside, it wasn't a very nice morning. Several of the women at the breast clinic seemed to be very upset; I'm assuming that they were there to investigate actual lumps. One woman had her mum there with her and they were both tearful ... Cancer really is a vile disease.

I am grateful for the NHS though. I may have had to wait (and wait, and wait), but I did get to see a specialist and have a mammogram done for free.

I didn't enjoy work this afternoon; I felt tired and in need of pampering, and my throat was (and is) very sore. Presumably Bobby's germs from last week have made their way over to me. I kept waiting for someone to notice that I was feeling grotty and offer me sympathy, but alas, no-one did. I always look irritatingly healthy, even when I feel dire.

In other news, Emily started a paper round this morning. I walked her route with her yesterday, just to make sure she knew where to go, and the corner store people have given her a really nice, easy, very very local route, so even I feel comfortable about her doing it. She is thrilled about all the money she'll have (£13 a week, not bad for 30 minutes walk every morning). It is so odd seeing the difference between the way that she approaches life and the way that Stephen tackles things. Steve had a paper route until fairly recently, and we never heard much about it. He just sort of got on with it every morning and wasn't interested in discussing it. Ems, though, has given us a blow-by-blow account of every detail, from the way that you fold the papers, to how you have to close the front gates or the old people get grumpy, to how to avoid the letter slot in the front door snapping your fingers. I don't know if this is a boy/girl thing or just a Steve/Em thing. I must say, I vastly prefer the share-all-the-details approach. It is so much easier to help someone if you know what is going on in their head...

The kids' schools and my work closed for the holidays on Friday, and Bobby goes on leave tomorrow, so we're all free for the next couple of weeks! Yippee!

Last week was crazy, what with the house and work, and I shopped like a mad thing yesterday, so it feels wonderful to finally have a peaceful afternoon at home.

One interesting thing from last week - I was asked to go on a field trip with the media students, and ended up watching them film an episode of Fortune, a rather patronising and (in my opinion) distasteful ITV show in which millionaires (one of whom, weirdly, is Jeffrey Archer) give money away. It'll air early next year sometime, I think. I've always been quite cynical about so-called "reality" shows, and seeing this has made me even more so. For instance, you know when a contestant says something, and then they pan to the audience so you can see the expressions on people's faces - joy, or outrage, or whatever? Well, they actually get tons of those shots before they even start filming the show, and cut them in later as they see fit. Same with the clapping. They had the audience clap excitedly, clap boredly, hiss in disgust and so on, so that they had all that recorded before the contestants or millionaires actually arrived on set. Also, to add insult to injury, the studio where they were filming looked more like a barn than an actual studio. Looked like a barn, and felt like one too, since an icy wind was whistling in through the open doors. However, everyone in the audience had to remove coats, scarves, gloves etc, so that it looked as though they were in a real, warm, studio. So if you ever see the show, and the audience seems to have a blueish tinge to them, that's why.

In other news, we celebrated Emily's 14th birthday on Sunday. She doesn't actually turn 14 until the 30th, but we decided to do it before Christmas so that her birthday doesn't get lost in all the post-Christmas-getting-back-from-holiday muddle.



She had planned her day down to the last second, (my darling girl is nothing if not organised) and she loved every second of it. So Sunday was devoted to buying her a new outfit, having lunch out, watching a movie, and playing board games in the evening. She loved the day. And she'll have her non-family party once we're moved into the new house.

Speaking of moving, the floor is looking pretty good! We just have to do the edges of the living-room, and that whole room will be finished.



The worst floor-laying moment was probably down to me. Last night, I noticed that two of the planks weren't quite as tight as the others were. It wasn't really a problem, but I suggested that Bobby tap them together anyway - and in so doing, he dislodged a plank for real and so had to re-lay a whole enormous section. Aside from that incident, the rest of our DIY stuff has been quite stress-free, thus far. Though we're not done yet ...

What I am done with, however, is Christmas shopping. I am quite proud of this, since I only started yesterday. Not only have I bought all required presents, but I have also taken each child on a separate shopping trip to buy gifts for his or her siblings and assorted relatives. I normally go all dithery and pathetic when shopping, and end up hating the experience, but this time, oddly enough, I actually enjoyed it. Perhaps leaving everything to the last minute has its advantages?

So far so good on the work front.

The college seems like a much, much nicer place to work than my last place of employment. I'm very pleased; I think it's going to be a distinct change for the better.

I'm dead tired when I get home from work, though. It's a slightly longer day than I'm used to, and that, plus all the stress of adjusting to a new environment, is wiping me out. Plus, the end of daylight savings means that it's practically dark by the time I get home - the sun is setting at around 4.30 now!

The kids are all being lovely at the moment - really pulling together and helping out where needed. For instance, Stephen fetched Sophie from her netball practice today as I don't finish work early enough to get there on time. It was quite a mission for him as, in order to get her on time, he had to leap onto his bicycle after his last class and ride like crazy all the way to her school. But he did it with great good nature.

No trick-or-treating going on in our neighbourhood, unfortunately. Emily has gone to a Hallowe'en party at a friend's house (oh these teen parties ... as I get older it becomes increasingly hard for me to stay awake till I have to pick the kids up...) I had thought that Sophie might be miserable because she didn't have a party to go to, but she had fun making a ghost-shaped pizza with me for supper, and is singing happily to herself in the bath right now.

Tomorrow I am going to a day-long workshop on dyslexia. Should be interesting. I'm looking forward to it.

Bobby and I see the world in very ways.

Our living room is currently filled with boxes. Some are filled and taped up, some are half-packed, and some are still totally empty.

The tallest pile of boxes is the one that contains all our books. Using packing tape, Bobby has stuck a poster to this tower of boxes - one that came free with the newspaper, and which shows the different types of British berries. He truly believes that this transforms our livingroom from messy and disorganised to pleasantly civilised. I admit that it is a fairly interesting poster, but personally I think it makes the room look more chaotic, rather than less.

It seems as though our move across the road is on track. We finally have clarity on the address (it's 51A, not the 51 that appears on the door) so we can sort out gas and electricity and phones and so on. The house is supposed to be cleaned tomorrow (and oh please let this be true because God knows it needs it desperately) and we get the keys on Saturday morning.

So that's all good. Inasmuch as having to move to a smaller less pleasant house against your will can be said to be good.

Also good today was meeting Ems for lunch. No school for her today since it was closed - inset day. She had Steve for company till 10.30 when he went off to a class, then she was on her own till 12.30, when I met her in town for lunch. It was fun, being just the two of us. Wish I could have taken the whole day off, but it just wasn't do-able. At least I have a long lunch-break - we get an hour and fifteen minutes - and I'm only ten minutes away. She's spending tomorrow (another inset day) with friends - they're taking the train to the multiplex to see a movie - so she won't be bored. I can't believe how fast she's growing up. And I'm very glad we're living in a place where it's safe to allow her some independence.