Term Two Blues.

Bubble has a tiny little cut underneath that bandaid but the blood was copious.

Squeak insists on goggles in the bath.

Sending Bubble and Squeak back to school after their first term holiday was not fun. Two weeks of having them all to myself again, to sleep in, to plan each day in the morning and not be preparing for tomorrow last thing at night was positively luxurious. They, on the other hand, couldn't wait to go back.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would take so long to master the 'early morning, outta the house by 8.40am' thing. By master, I mean leave the house in the morning with out one of us having a complete emotional breakdown. By one of us, I mean me.

Call me naive but I truly thought it would be a massive turning point when the boys went to school, In a word, I thought I'd find 'freedom'. Big call, hey?

What happened to all the time I was meant to have for creative pursuits and to get all this 'stuff' done? I certainly didn't think about lunch boxes, school bags, uniforms, readers, lost property, working bees, birthday parties, library books, water bottles, sun hats, the sick-bay, excursions, notices or play-dates.

I haven't done any of the house-painting I wanted to do and the pile next to my sewing machine has it's own postcode but we are getting into the swing of primary school life.

So hopefully I'll manage to post more than once every three months from now on.