Monday:
Monthly Forest School. The day starts at 5am. No day should start at 5am, it's simply rude.
The journey is OK, bit faffy with a replacement bus, but manageable. Rye is excited we are going on an adventure together; the knee has kept me mostly housebound. I've invited Rose Howey's Canadian guest to come with us too, and it's nice to have another adult present.While walking from the train station to the centre, I feel a tearing sensation in my calf, which hurts like the beejeebus.
Forest School starts, I hobble to the cafe, feeling sorry for myself and I buy a slice of cake. Raw eating be damned. J follows one of the walks around the forest, while she's gone I crochet, drink coffee and slowly eat the massive slice of Red Velvet cake. It's ok, nothing to write home about.
At lunch time I arrange with a fellow home edding mum to get a lift to the station, which eases the worry about trying to walk back.
Rye is happy as Larry. Friends, both old and new to play with, and at Forest School they are building bird feeders, and using tools. The fresh air, seeing different people, the adventure is clearly doing him good. We have been rather like hermits because of my injured knee.Tuesday:
Quiet day. Yesterday was exhausting and we both sleep way longer than normal. My calf is wince inducing painful, and it feels like it can't take my full weight. I'm hobbling worst than ever. Much later in the evening I realise I forgot about taking Rye to the Black-e for Circus Skills.
Wednesday:Today we are going to Manchester Science and Technology Museum for an explosions workshop. The workshop is shorter than I imagined, nonetheless, Rye enjoys it. A friend gave us a lift into Manchester and because she has to leave, we do not stay long.
Thursday:
Ah, creative writing, I'm thankful we host this activity. My calf is feeling much stronger, still I'm nervous of going too far. Today in creative writing the kids are drawing and describing the characters for a story. Rye is being obtuse, he wants to do his own thing. I feel frustrated and annoyed, he's been attending creative writing long enough now, to know the deal - and I'm tired of his need to show off and try and be clever with me in front of his peers. I'm also exasperated by how much he allows H to wind him up. She's critiquing his drawings and he's whining at her to stop looking. Eventually, he does the task - it's a bit like trying to bleed a stone and I can't decide if he's truly not understood what describing the character means or if he's being extra obtuse.
After creative writing, our friend gives us a lift to Trampolining. Rye, when I suggested the activity was hardly enthusiastic. "I know how to trampoline, we have one in the garden." he cockily says to me. I insist, and clearly, mother does know best, because he has a whale of a time and wants to go again.
Friday:
Lots of playing and hanging out with our new members. K is a young father as well as enjoying video games, electronics etc. He and Rye have hit it off, and Rye spends most of his time talking about what he and K are going to do, and the robot they are going to build. Electronic appliances are suddenly not safe in the house as Rye is desperate to take them all to pieces for parts for his robot.
The evening comes and we go out, with our guest to the World Museum. There's a stargazing and astronomy event on - the sky is beautifully clear and we are looking forward to it. When we arrive, there is a long queue. After about ten minutes, staff from the museum begin to come outside, they are clearly looking at the long queue which is getting longer and longer. Eventually, the director of the museum comes out and apologies profusely but suggests people go home because interest has far exceeded their expectations and inside there are really long queues too for each of the activities. Reluctantly we leave, I physically can't stand in queues all evening on the off chance we might get to use the telescopes, so we go home.
At home my American housemate is making pizza and the Presidential Inauguration is being projected. I don't really want to watch it. I cannot fathom how on earth he managed to win, and it all leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. I quietly leave after showing my face for a wee while.
Saturday:
Early start, I'm babysitting for a friend. Rye is grumpy and being controlling. I suspect he's still processing the altercation we had last night which resulted in me sending him to bed. I make a mental note to talk to him about it, once the girls are picked up by their dad at lunch time.
Irritatingly, the short amount of walking I did last night, for the aborted World Museum visit has caused my calf to be exceedingly painful and tight again. I guess I really have hurt the calf after all.
Feeling sorry for myself I make microwave flourless brownie (quite tasty) and share it with Rye, adding black cherry pie filling and custard too. Later I allow Rye to talk me into a takeaway, which I thoroughly regret after stuffing my face. Oh well, on wards and up wards.
Sunday:
Chilled day mooching around doing very little. It is also very, very cold. Rye is pestering his new friend, a young dad who has moved into the house with his small family. Its a case of instant hero worship, Rye of course doesn't know when to back off, so we have a wee chat. Honestly, I'm not sure he's really taken on board the conversation - probably one of those that has to be repeated very often before it sinks in.
Once it's dark, I project a couple of episodes of Librarians for us to watch, and then bed for Rye; hilariously, he tries to order me to let him watch another episode. It's ten to ten though, so not a chance in hell.
