Are They Always Our Babies?

Francesca has been out of sorts for a couple of days and I had put it down to tiredness and possibly growing.

She came out of school this afternoon and burst into tears, she had a sore throat and a raging temp. Poor baby.

Elizabeth came out of school brandishing a letter explaining that it will be 'Go Bananas' day on friday at school and everyone has to wear yellow. Follwed far too closely by "can you make me something to wear?"

Time is short, it is wednesday already, Francesca is ill, I am supposed to be taking my friend Caroline out to buy some new ladies for her chicken house, boobie club and now this!

So we all piled into the car and went to the local fabric mill and asked "Do you have anything yellow?" The very bemused lady mananged to find the most offensive yellow polka dot fabric I have ever seen, the look on her face was not hopeful when she brought it out and she nearly fell over when I said I'd have some. We also bought some more shirring elastic and some pink cotton for a project I am planning for Francesca's new room and some really yummy white cotton covered in little strawberries to make Francesca a dress and matching hat (well, I had to do something to appear less like the worst mother in the world).

No Simon tonight and everyone is tired, it being the middle of the week, so while I ironed and pinned, squinting (having failed to bring my sun glasses in from the car) the children ate chicken and chips on the sofa watching the telly! That's the social onto me again. Can't remember the last time we didn't eat at the table, hardly ever happens, am not such a slummy mummy really!!

Francesca gave up half way through and just nursed a warm blackcurrant and when I looked again she was asleep;



At 5.15!! She must be really poorly and really pooped!

I continued to sew for a little while while Nathaniel and Elizabeth played together and then she said, in best big-sisterly fashion that he was tired and should they both go and brush their teeth? Jolly good idea I thought so I tidied round while they faffed in the bathroom (I hate to think the bad habits she will teach him). Then once they were safely on my bed, Elizabteh reading stories, I roused Francesca and carried her (good job she's so skinny and I have such great muscle tone) upstairs and sat her on the toilet. I had to kneel in front of her so she could still rest her sleepy head on me while she weed. She hasn't done this since she was 2 and I used to lift her out of bed to wee when I was on my way to bed to avoid wet sheets. I carried her to her room and undressed her and put on some cosy pyjamas, I snuggled her down and lay next to her while she sucked her thumb and gently stroked me with her other hand until she was deeply asleep again.

Sometimes because she is so tall and clever and bright and 'grown-up' (and has attitude learned from her big sister and only-child mates) I forget that she is still my baby and although I don't want her to be ill it is so nice when she needs me;



Back to sewing, here are some smocked dresses I rustled up this afternoon for the fair;

And here is Elizabeth in her almost-there yellow top, which doesn't look nearly as bad as I had imagined;

The conversation when I got the camera out went like this;

E: You can't take a picture of me wearing it over my pyjamas, I will look like a freak!

Me: Elizabeth, you always look like a freak!

Hence the expression, and for those of you who have not had the pleasure of Elizabeth in the flesh, that is the real Elizabeth!!

Daisie xxx