home again

Son is watching Star Wars in lieu of a bedtime story tonight. Does this make me a bad parent? I'm not sure. He is a bit obsessed at the moment. The other day one of the littler children shoved him deliberately when he was getting off the school bus. He said: "Shashank is in a bit of a grumpy mood today. I think if he was a jedi, he would be moving across to the dark side."

Have been to the UK and come back again. It was a mad whirl of hospital appointments, jet-lag and Tescos. Didn't make it to McDonald's though. Shame. I had lots of very important shopping to do and duly came back with Barbie armbands, Batman goggles and Ben 10 swimming trunks. Also waterproof mascara, stay-fast lipstick and fake tan. Yes, swimming pool season is here, hurrah! Oh the joys of playing Barbie Mermadia whilst being attacked with a water pistol. 

Son has promised to learn to swim this summer. He needs to get a move on or he will be beaten to it by his little sisters. Hubby is off trekking at the moment with his insane Australian colleague, who is about fifteen years younger and mad as a barking catfish. It's a work thing - a duty check to check up on the welfare facilities that the army provides for ex-Gurkhas and their families in outlying villages (contrary to the outrage propagated by Joanna Lumley, the army actually does quite a lot for ex-Gurkhas). However, I worry that Australian Chap will persuade Hubby to do something insanely macho, like drinking a bottle of whisky before sprinting up a glacier. He has promised me he won't. But Aussie Chap is not to be trusted. He tried to teach Son to say sh*t the other day (luckily as it wasn't in the context of a Star Wars plot, Son took no notice whatsoever) and throw Twin 1 in the swimming pool in her pants. She says he is a bad man. So I hope Hubby comes back with his limbs and reputation intact...

I'm off (nearly)

Off to the UK on Friday, with Twin 2. Can hardly wait to sample the delights of Tescos and McDonald's. First, however, I have to return to the jeans shop to pick up final pair of jeans from the good-looking jeans man. I will let you know how I get on (not well, I suspect as I shall have my pox-ridden grumpy sidekick with me).

Hubby: Thundery, with occasional outbursts. Outlook: poor.

high on a hill lived a lonely goat herd

We did the scary trek. And it was quite a bit harder than I thought - didn't admit it though. Although, strangely, my legs didn't ache at all. Maybe those fat-busting shoes have secretly been exercising muscles I didn't know I had. Anyway, it was lovely to see the mountains, and have time out of the Kathmandu Valley. Turns out the other family didn't have a sweet allergy, just a nut allergy, so there were plenty of toffee eclairs and mini mars bars. 

Twin 2 did her best to join in, but trekking in the Himalayas perhaps isn't the best environment for a girl with cerebral palsy, so she spent quite a lot of time being carried in a basket by an ancient, toothless porter, who was also quite deaf, so tended to just keep on going, regardless of what the rest of us were up to. As a result, she arrived everywhere first, got her cheek pinched by many Nepalis, and had her photo taken by many random tourists.

Twin 1, on the other hand, was quite a little mountain goat, hopping and skipping up the (many, many) steps and singing made up songs about trees. Only at one point did fatigue and grumpiness set in. I can't remember what exactly I'd done to upset her, but she said: 'Mummy, you have two choices: you can be a nice mummy or a horrible mummy. If you choose to be a horrible mummy then I will find another mummy'. Anyone who has read the parenting book How to talk so children will listen, and listen so they will talk will recognise this whole 'choice' thing. How charming and amusing it was to have it used on me, halfway up the thousand-step trek to Gandruk. Of course I chose the horrible mummy option, and asked Twin 2 who she thought she'd find for an alternative mummy. Or at least I would have done, but halfway up the thousand-step trek to Gandruk, I didn't actually have any breath for, well, breathing, let alone conversations with a grumpy three-year-old.

Son was an absolute star, and walked the whole way, bolstered by interesting conversations with Hubby about metals and a kind of 'pimp my ride' thing, but for imaginary space ships.

Of course, nobody washed for the entire three days, which made everyone happy - apart from perhaps the owner of the hotel pool we jumped into as soon as we arrived back in Pokhara.

As soon as we arrived home in Kathamandu, Twin 1 developed her chicken pox spots, which is truly excellent timing. She is very happy as this means she gets to spend the next couple of days 'at home with Mummy'. I'm quite sure that by lunchtime tomorrow, however, she will have had her fill of Play Doh and colouring in, and be desperate to get back to Miss Susan and all the thrills of the British School.

Hubby is tired and grumpy today. I wasn't going to mention it, but he made the seagull face and reminded me, so  I thought you might like to know. Maybe I should just pop it in at the end of each posting, like the weather at the end of a news report. 

Hubby: thundery overnight, cloudy in the morning, with occasional sunny spells with workmates during the day, returning to thunder at around 5.30 pm,  just in time for supper. 

more pox

Twin 2 totally recovered, but there was a huge 'bandha' on today (strike/protest) so we couldn't drive to Pokhara for the trek anyway, and now it does look suspiciously as if Twin 1 is coming down with the pox. At least that's what she was telling me at bed time. Argh! Whilst the thought of going on a trek with the 'no sweets' family makes me nervous, the prospect of another week stuck at home is utter insanity. At least Hubby would be stuck with me, as he's on leave now. Although I'm not sure how much of a good thing that is, as his boredom threshold and tolerance of whiny kids is even lower than mine. Ooh, I have just discovered a chicken pox spot on my hand. Which is wierd, as I'm pretty sure I've already had it. Maybe you can get it twice? Happy Days! I think I shall go and Google 'chicken pox' now and see (yes, I know, I am living a tragically vapid existence where the only source of interest is Googling common childhood diseases...it has been quite a long Easter holiday so far!)

family von Trapp

Hi, still under house arrest as Twin 2's spots are still a bit puss-y and not yet scabby, which is apparently the criterion to determine infectiousness. Luckily she's blissfully unaware of quite how revolting she looks, and is still swanning around like a wobbly princess. So it's been a pretty uneventful day. I did manage to persuade the kids to put on a 'show' for me this afternoon, mainly because I was feeling lazy and it was a chance to sit around drinking coffee as the 'audience'. Son gave himself the job of 'creative director', a thankless task when working with his sisters. You know that saying, 'never work with animals or children'? Well Twins 1 & 2 are kind of animal-child hybrids (Hubby calls them 'the jackals'), so the production was pretty much doomed to failure. In any case, the creative direction seemed to consist mainly of exhorting the actors to fight each other. We are almost turning into the family von Trapp. Except without the talent. Still, I enjoyed a nice sit down and a lovely cup of coffee. 

Really hoping that Twin 2 is totally scabby tomorrow, otherwise I might have to fabricate some essential supermarket shopping, just to escape.

Twin 1 still looking in tip top health so it looks like the scary trek will go ahead...

ps

I will have to tell you about the bloke in the jeans shop another time...

Farewell family F

Our lovely friends have gone. Son is a a bit deflated not to have two bigger boys to wave sticks around with. Twin 2 is feeling bereft at dearth of big boys to flirt with. She also has chicken pox, and is wallowing in spotty misery. Twin 1 by comparison is quite perky. She agreed that she would miss the boys and their parents but was easily cheered up by plotting bits of furniture to desecrate with her new non-washable felt tips. Hubby is mildly glum, but has cheered himself up a tad by monopolising Son's new remote-control helicopter. 

Meena, on the other hand, is positively beaming. It must be the realisation that she no longer has to cater for nine every night.

I am really quite grumpy. This is partly because the nice family have gone, but also because I realise that I have committed myself to trekking next week with a family we barely know. And actually, the more I do get to know of them, the more nervous I become. The Twins went to the birthday party of their youngest child, and what struck me was that THERE WERE NO SWEETS BETWEEN THE LAYERS IN PASS THE PARCEL. Perhaps I'm a bit obsessed with pass the parcel, but sweets for all participants are just a necessary part of it now (not like in my day). I kept trying to remark cheerily on the nice shiny wrapping paper, but the gaggle of three and four year old girls could barely hide their disappointment at the lack of candy, and could hardly muster the enthusiasm to rip of the paper. And I couldn't help wondering how much fun is it going to be trekking with a family who don't have sweets at a birthday party? Perhaps I'm doing them a disservice. Or perhaps they have lots of dentists in the family. Or perhaps they are no fun? No, no, mustn't think that! Anyway, I will try not to dwell on it. We may have to cancel in any case as it is quite likely that Twin 2 will come down with the pox just in time.