Chickens in a box

Bella is at the vets. She's been there overnight and is on a drip and waiting to be seen by the Clinical Lead who'll do an ultra sound of her abdomen and potentially an X-Ray of her chest to see what is causing internal bleeding. 48 hours ago, life was completely normal and all was fine. But Eddie and I had noticed that Bella was becoming increasingly lethargic. She's definitely not been her usual self for weeks now, but we put it down to the hot summer we've had. Then when it cooled down and she was still listless I called the vet, who told me not to worry, but to call again if we were still concerned. On Friday (it's Sunday morning), Eddie came back from a walk and said she was walking behind him by the end. The same thing had happened to me on the Thursday - and that was it. I called the vet and took her in on Friday evening. The vet said she looked fine - and she did - no loss of appetite, coat shining, nose cold, ears up, sound etc. You would never have k...

It's been one of those birthdays which has run over three days rather than an afternoon/evening special. Typical James! We took four of James' mates out to the cinema on Saturday to watch 'The House with a Clock in its Walls'. An odd choice maybe, but the alternative was 'Antman and the Wasp.' which looked dire. Or go karting which would have required us remortgaging the house. Honestly how much? Fortunately the boys seemed to like the film, and an endless supply of popcorn and wine gums probably helped. Then back home for Fortnite and burgers, followed by chocolate and vanilla cake. None of which touched the sides. They're a nice bunch and it was actually a pretty relaxing way to spend the afternoon. A far cry from the carnage of earlier years and smaller versions of this lot. On Sunday Eddie dropped the three of us off at Snelsmore and we walked back through the woods in the sunshine with Bella, while he dug beans, carrots and leeks from the allotmen...

It's James' birthday on Monday, but he's got his mates round tomorrow and he wants to have his birthday cake then, so they can all sing Happy Birthday and take a slice home. All well and good. Apart from the fact that I have back-to-back calls pretty much all day, and friends round for dinner. AND, I refuse to buy one. With an hour between calls it has just been possible to wolf down a fish finger sandwich (using the thinnest of slices, Eddie having eaten the rest of the loaf while I was on my previous call), mix up a chocolate Victoria sponge and get it in the oven. Icing I can sort out later. Then I wondered, as I often do, whether it would ever occur to a man to take his lunch break to bake a birthday cake. And whether high-achieving women would just go and buy one because they were focused on work and couldn't spare the time. And whether it is career limiting to spend time baking cakes when you could be working through your lunch hour. Yesterday on a call we w...

The only way to survive working full-time and managing a family and menagerie, is to become the most efficient, organised person possible. Every single minute of your day needs to be catalogued and aligned to a specific activity if you're going to fit it all in and not forget anything or anyone. In my case this can prove challenging, as I'm naturally an extremely lazy, disorganised and impractical person. iPhone alerts are fundamental. If notifications aren't set, it ain't gonna happen. Days are invariably broken up into bite-size chunks of time, an example of which would be: 06:20 - Alarm goes off (Today Programme). Press SNOOZE. Go back to sleep. 06:30 - Alarm goes off again (Headlines). Listen. 06.38 - Headlines end. Shuffle into the shower. 06:45 - Hair and Make-up. 07:00 - Yell at boys to wake up (Eddie) or go upstairs, draw curtains and say "it's morning." (Me) 07:10 - Breakfast - argument about who's laying the table/having what for...

"I won." "No I won." "No I won." "No I won. Anyway, it didn't count because I'm left-handed." "Your grip was wrong." "It wasn't. And I won anyway." "I don't want to argue with you. I won." Etc.

For months James has been complaining that he doesn't want to do judo anymore. It's only one hour a week, and we think it's been great for him to be part of a club, outside school, learning a skill that he's actually pretty good at. But the tantrums and tears have escalated until Eddie and I have come to dread Tuesday evenings. The question is; if James hates judo so much these days, why make him go? Because he might regret it later? Because it's great to learn a new sport? Because it'll keep him fit? All those reasons and more, but that's only because we know what it's like to give something up and then feel all those things. What does James care about hindsight, or learning from his parents' experiences. Nowt. So I did a deal with him. If he stuck at judo until Christmas and went every week - without complaining - then we could revisit the situation in the new year and he could give up if he wanted to. Alas the concept of honouring a deal is ...

So...the Houghtons are alive and kicking, still living in the house in Donnington. Mostly having a wonderful time, in between working like slaves, putting the hours in at school and fighting with each other. Thank heavens for the telly, although now we have the dreaded X-box to contend with as well (duelling screens, the joy). The boys seem incapable of turning either off without bedlam - and a fight of some description of course - ensuing. More to write, I've started and will continue, planning not leave it another five years this time! N.B. I did try to write a diary with an actual pen but found it incredibly laborious, and my handwriting is atrocious these days. Terrible, too much typing.