Epic Fail in Tesco

Sometimes dads are simply embarrassing, just ask Lucie.

This morning I took her to Tesco and whilst waiting at the check-out queue, I noticed that she was beginning to escape from her bra. A quick glance revealed nobody was looking, so I gave her straps a tentative yank.

'What you doing dad,' asked Lucie, attracting the casual attention of the young chap operating the till.

Blushing but determined to protect my daughter's modesty and noticing the 'problem' had not resolved, I gave her straps another healthy, upwards yank.

P'DOING!

You know that feeling when you can tell something has dropped out of your shopping bag? Well  - that was kind of what it was like. Whilst Lucie's chest was now safely lowered into the depths of her t-shirt, her bra had emerged round her neck!  Aaaargh!!

'Erm....silly, dad. Can you sort that, Lucie?' I squirmed, by now attracting something of an audience. Hunky checkout-guy tried not to grin.

'Dad rubbish with Lucie's bra.'  Giggled Luce.

'Thanks for that kid, maybe if you could just......' I made vague hand gestures towards her t-shirt.

Lucie did some discreet rummaging and soon was 're-fettled'. I meanwhile, was the same colour as the plums which were ringing through the till..............PING!

And so reader, I was perplexed!

Day ten of the summer holidays and I think I'm living in a parallel universe. Here, children are happy, hospitals are for other people and when you see water dripping through the ceiling, it really is your imagination!  Yes - the kids are being great!  It is like living in the last thirty minutes of Mary Poppins!

Lucie especially is flourishing. She is chatty, content and looks so healthy. She stood on the 'white square' this morning and is nicely continuing to lose weight too. We are also doing some educational stuff with her and have been amazed with the results - just ten days in and she can tell the time (okay - little hand only) and her handwriting has improved dramatically. Thank you Mary Poppins!

Emilie, meanwhile, is default setting Emilie; a bouncing (very bouncing!) ball of giggles and smiles. Bright eyed (she knows not of the demon Cotes Du Rhone) and wild haired, she visits us for food periodically and then disappears. Rather like the hedgehogs which are coming to our garden us each evening - except without the snuffling and worm eating.

So if, as Jane Eyre observed; life is indeed a lesson (actually I made that up, but its the sort of thing goody-two-shoes Jane would say), what are Helen and I to conclude?

For a while we've had a nagging doubt that the 'real Lucie' hides underneath her anxiety about school. Not that she hates it when she is there, but like a lot of autistic people, she struggles with the transition; the moving from the sphere of home to school. In addition, whist her teachers are wonderful, I think there is an element of Lucie steeling herself to get through the day. Like a soldier on the front line - she copes whilst there, but can fall apart after (and before she is sent back). The sobbing and (literal) trembling we see some mornings are very real and we have wondered what toll this takes on her physical health. This last year, she seems to have lurched from one illness to another.

 Of course taking her out of school would be a huge step to take. We are also aware that she needs social stimuli and a life which challenges her and prepares her for a time when we are no longer here (soon, the way I feel - got terminal man-flu!). But her life also should be about being as happy as she can be. So....

Anyway - we will continue to monitor, but in the meantime, we are enjoying this rather lovely universe of happy playing hedgehogs and snuffling children.....or is it the other way round. This flu weighs heavily on my fevered intellect!

Thanks for reading,


Mark.

Day One - kiddie wars begin

Well - day one of the holidays done. The kids have obviously decided to soften us up first with a few minor incidents. Like the mischievous ghost who  gently rattles his chain before putting his screaming head in your fridge, the girls know any trauma they inflict will be all the more fun if they can just put us on edge first. So what did they do?

Firstly Emi went for a solo walk down the cul-de-sac whilst mum and Lucie were out. Luckily I heard the front door click and caught her in time. Her grin told me this was only a diversion anyway - more was to come. Sure enough, despite hiding all our keys at bedtime behind a lockable door, evidence this morning showed she'd managed to find an old set we'd forgotten about. Fortunately, they were cut by someone who wanted to be a vet or an astronaut or something, anything but a key cutter. As such, they take the strength of Hercules to work and were found this morning sticking out of the front door.  Even then I still felt the urge to check the street for mayhem - next door have a nice new car, I could see that being a 'viable Emi target'. But no - not yet anyway.

Lucie, meanwhile, doesn't waste her time with thoughts of escape, why when there is fun to be had at home! It is slightly disconcerting to be sitting in the lounge, watching cricket, enjoying the sound of willow on leather, only to see a load of urine fly past the patio doors!  Yup - why go to the loo and risk bumping into your sister when the summer house bin makes such a lovely alternative. In fairness, she emptied it - opting for a medieval slopping out method - hence flying wee onto the patio. Luckily the cat has just moved from her sun basking......

So, there we go. Day two awaits. It is now 9:05am and I've already noticed our keys are missing. A search revealed them in Em's room. All keys are now behind a locked (combination) door. Mum and dad need to up their game!  More from the front .......soon!

Its only 47 days ..........

And here we are again, at the start line of another summer holiday marathon with the kids. Are we nervous? A little, last year Emilie was as difficult as she has ever been. At times she screamed (literally) for eight hours solid, day after day. But then, she was about to change school and we are pretty confident this time will be different. It is more that we are just a little wary, like a man patting a poodle a year after being savaged by a pitbull. Different time, different circumstances - but the echo of trauma still there!

But at the same time - the challenge also brings opportunity. Tied to the house means I can get all those DIY jobs done.  Or in my case attempt them, call the emergency services, then get father-in-law to put things right! But hey - even I should be able to paint the summer-house......maybe!

It will also be nice to spend time with the girls (did I say that?). We will have the time to experiment and try some new things with them; taking Em to ceramics painting, for example, Lucie to Bootham Crescent to watch York City (potentially child abuse that - but what the hell...)  It is also nice not having to see Lucie nervous about school or dragging her out bed at 6:30 for it (she needs an hour to choose which shoes to wear!).

So - off we go. As I type, Lucie is in the summer-house, Emilie avoiding. Her sister is strangely quiet - never a good sign - probably plotting! But will keep you updated, I suspect it won't be a dull ride.....  :-) 

Losing keys and patience

I spent two hours last night searching the entire house for my car/house keys. No luck.  With daylight came another ninety minute search - including the dustbin, twice!  Twice because the thing about crab paste pots is they have lids exactly the same colour as my key fob. Hmmm, so  although it was a horrible search - that tiny glimpse of burgundy meant another five minutes breathing through my ears and prodding unmentionables with a stick. Let us just say I now itch.....that psychological itching which no soap or shampoo can touch!

And where were the keys in the end? Who was responsible for their disappearance? Let me give you a clue - a photo for you:

Butter wouldn't melt?  Probably not. But the little beggar had nabbed my keys and hidden them down the side of her bed mattress. Aaaargh!! Which brings a whole new thought to ponder:

You know you sometimes see on the news that whilst the police have not actually caught the terrorists, they have *seized* a zillion pounds of explosives and bomb making equipment?  Well that is how this feels with Emilie. I KNOW she had a plan - something big. Something like using the keys at 3am and buggering off. Probably in our car for a nice trip into next doors flower beds! But we didn't catch her in the act, so all we can do is wait for her next move.  Aaaaargh!

Funny thing was, when we found them her grin was both lovely (it truly was a huge smile) and endearing. We couldn't tell her off. She wouldn't understand anyway.

So there we have it, the keys now live on this pink hot-water-bunny we have (which you put in the microwave to warm up - that can't be right that, surely?) and which lives behind a lockable kitchen cupboard door. To exit the house, we now have to engage in security Wormwood Scrubs would consider excessive. But the thing is, terrorist cells never give up do they? They just bide their time. Waiting...........

Thanks for reading!  :-)