Ugh to parenting.

Middle boys want to go to local soft play centre - a Saturday pootling at home had been planned, but they are bored and restless and in need of something else.
No.1 is having a rough day - full mornings in school for five days have taken their toll and he is in need of (and happy to be) just being in his room building lego and listening to Harry Potter.
Middle boys crushed at once again bowing to No.1's incapacity. They don't resent him, but the resigned acceptance makes me feel really really rubbish.
Bah.

Evil wagon wheels.

There is a new multi-pack of wagon wheels in the cupboard; they were on offer and it would have been prosecutable by law to leave them on the shelf at that price. But they seem to have extraordinarily loud voices for such well-wrapped biscuits. They seem to know just how long it is since I ate one (about ten years), and are doing a little rustle-shimmy every time I go near the cupboard, trying to lure me in.
Gits.

Four at Bedtime fun.

The biggest problem with four children? The juggling. For instance - bed time tonight. C's in studio working, so bedtime was all mine. Which 99 times out of a 100 will be easy, fine and dandy. Today Jolly came home from school with nasty high temperature - and Pink has been in a manky mood all afternoon.
So 7pm rolls around, and the routine commenced - first off from the blocks was Pink - bathed, storied, bedded happily - until I leave the room, when she starts to moan. Not proper crying, just a nasal, half-hearted aaa-ha-ha-ha-ha-aaah that goes on and on and on. And on.

Eventually gave in, and went to her. just had her lying quietly and stroking her back when Jolly started calling me. On High Sick Alert I dumped her and ran to him.
Whilst settling him (no sick, just headache) No.1 started shuffling to the bathroom and playing the Victorian-lady-in-a-decline drama. I realised he had sopping wet hair from the bath, so whisked him off for a hairdrying session (whilst giving him a stern too-old-for-dramatics-perfectly-capable-of-drying-own-hair talking to). He flounced off in a temper as Boy appeared asking for his hair to be driedis kicking up with mucho gusto.
Then no.1 reappeared sheepishly requesting a hot water bottle.
At which Poorly-Jolly called he'd quite like one too....
I flounced and huffed in a grandly adult way and No.1 flounced back to bed in high dudgeon.
Two hot water bottles later (talking to Pink in sing song voice from downstairs assuring her mummy may be back some time before midnight), and Jolly is settled, and No.1's room is in darkness as he has sulkily decided that though I had said 'Get To Bed' he had heard 'Go, Get out, Leap into bed, Switch off all lights, Sleep instantly and do NOT let me see you again till morning'.
Long chat with The Drama Queen No.1 ensued, and grumpiness resolved into pleasant good nights - finally leave him reading quietly.
Returned to Jolly ( noticing on way that Boy is still listening to his mp3), and he didn't want his hot water bottle after all (grrr) - but his temp is climbing, so prolly good thing. Settled down sadly to try and sleep.
By this time Boy has thought better of himself and decided that with the mood Mummy is now in he'll err on the side of caution and whisper a sweet goodnight after packing himself up promptly.
Pink is now silent, so am not going to go investigate in case she starts up again.

Why do they always do it on the nights C's working?

AND I haven't cleaned the kitchen yet, can hear the debris from four children's pizza making laughing at me from here.

sigh.