Monday Jan 16:
I decide to take the kids to Homebush Aquatic Centre today, the site of previous Olympian heroics like Ian Thorpe's record breaking appearances. None of those glories today - the children's section is one giant playground.
Annika runs straight for the Tipping Bucket and sits down to wait for the big splash. Mathew is not game but proceeds to dive under the water again and again. There's an interesting side effect. Turbo boy emerges with a line of yellow snot streaming from one nostril. I quickly duck his head in the water to get rid of it...he re-emerges with the yellow streak between his eyes sneaking up his forehead. Another ducking does the trick but then the second nostril starts! That one takes a helping hand from Grandma to get rid of. I get to wondering how many other snotty noses are in that pool. Uugh! Not worth thinking about!
The pool is a madhouse, full of screaming jostling kids, too close for comfort when we do the raging river run. But I'm achieving my aim, to wear Turbo Boy out so he'll sleep well tonight. The night before he was so excited to be staying over at Grandma's (after two years of promises) his mind was going a miillion miles an hour and he coudln't sleep until after ten. Then he woke up at 6am. We had to play quietly so as not to wake Annika sleeping on the sofa bed by request. There's a challenge, his voice is set permanently at a zillion decibels high.
Four hours later we pile into the car to go home. "When are we going to the park Grandma?" 'AFTER I'VE HAD MY COFFEE AND A SIT DOWN' "Then can we go?" 'Yes,' I say, looking at the clouds, and praying for the same heavy rain we had this morning,
No such luck. An hour later the sun is blazing and we're playing cricket (he never relinquishes the bat.) We let him run after his own balls, his skinny little legs going fifty to the dozen. I metaphorically rub my hands with satisfaction.
Mathew has two speeds, flat out or the dragging dawdle, which is what he have on the way home. Once in the flat he declares he's going to bed - NOT -the mattress is still airing after his nocturnal accident. Any way he meant the couch, and watching Roary.
FInally by 8.30 he's in bed asleep. That's what it takes but what about Grandma? Shes pooped.
Annika says, 'It's different with Mathew here Grandma.' It's dawning on her that playing teachers and cafes is never going to be the same, and I don't see all three of us in the kitchen together making cakes. But that's alright.
The next day we go to my local pool where there's not so much to do but it's less chaotic. Therefore I can keep an eye on Turbo Boy better. It's amazing how alike five year old skinny, dark haired boys are!
He and Annika play at being dolphins once I get out of the water. They play so well together. Another bonus is the warm water. Mathew is not sporting his customary blue lips after hours in the pool. A bonus for Grandma. As we're sitting on the little deck eating some chips, the Canterbury Bulldogs team members come out of the water after a training swim. (The Bulldogs are the local rugby league team)
Even Annika notices. "Look Grandma, they're all muscly." Indeed they are ; Ooh la la! I think I'll book us in for next week too!
I deposit them home in the evening and prepare myself for Round Two next week. .
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