BIRTHDAY GIRL

First night EVER that my 7 year old hasn’t at some point climbed into my bed during the night. Result. That is either because he is feeling immensely secure and happy in our new house or because his bed is so far off the ground that he cannot possibly contemplate rock climbing down in the dark. He has an extremely small room, so a high bed was the answer. But consequently it is very close to the ceiling and when I tried to make it the other day, it felt like I was crawling through a long dark tunnel. I almost needed a helmet with a light attached.

It is my daughters 12th birthday today…she was born at the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital almost exactly at this time in 1995 – I certainly don’t wish I was back there, giving birth, but I do love that period directly after having a baby, when you are holding a child in your arms and you can’t quite believe you have managed to do such an amazing thing or that they actually belong to you and you are going to have to take them home and you drink the best cup of tea that you have ever tasted, because you’ve really worked up a thirst for it. She was my only “easy” labour (“easy” meaning that it took less than 48 hours and didn’t require oxytocin drips, epidurals, too many people, low heart rates, episiotomy’s and she was a bit early rather than two weeks late and so on…) I do remember spending just as long admiring the umbilical cord as I did her initially. I couldn’t believe what an amazing piece of engineering it was and rather eerily beautiful.

So anyway, this morning she opened all her presents and I think she was really pleased. My ex and I had discussed what to buy her and had agreed to share the costs. I think that it quite important, otherwise there is a competition to buy your child more than the ex and they end up with tons and that is not right or you end up doubling up on things. We also try and get together for the childrens’ birthdays, so he came over at 7am to watch her open her presents and we’re going out tonight for a “family” meal…not particularly easy, but important for her.

Rushed daughter to school laden with Krispy Kreme doughnuts for her class, my teenage son is ill so I’ve had to drop him at his dad’s house because they are painting in the house today and he can’t really be there. Then I took my 7 year old to school and had to have a long conversation with the teacher about his ears. “He can’t hear a thing”, I told her, “he’s got a really nasty cough and it always means he goes deaf for a while”. “Well, I suggest you take him to the Dr immediately and get it sorted out”. It doesn’t work like that though, does it with ears. I will take him, because she clearly thinks I am a crap mother who doesn’t worry enough, but there’s not much that can be done. Maybe antibiotics will help. They are quite bad though, he mentioned this morning that he couldn’t even hear the fireworks display at his school!.

Now I’m about to go and teach a class – I need to pretend that I am emanating an aura of inner calm rather than about to have a heart attack. I don’t even know where my exercise clothes are – and now I can’t go up the stairs because they are covered in wet paint.