Before I begin, I just want to clear the old potentially-parasitic-ridden air with the lovely news that I don’t have nits, just psoriasis. PHEW. So I don’t have small animals living in my thin blondey-grey head, just red scabby welts. DOUBLE PHEW. That dastardly plane journey from Brisbane to London dried out my skin like a little forgotten dead gecko on a flat rock in the Outback, is all. So. As you were.
This week I have started a running programme which makes me hobble around for days. I suspect this is normal. But maybe not. Ouch! go my little arthritic knees. But I persevere because I want to have lithe limbs like Anya and Amber. So up I get at 6:15am to run around the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens in the dark and hopefully not get either lost or molested. So far, I have only gotten lost. And of course I needed to go to JD Sports to buy full running gear and shoes and sports bras and new Reeboks and I also needed to buy an iPhone so I could get the running app. I am nothing if not organised and nothing if not quick to find a way to go shopping. So I have the shiniest pinkest unstinkiest Nike gear on the planet and I am yet to become lithe. BUT OH! My iPhone has, of course, changed my life, yadda yadda because now I have an app for everything! I don’t have to even talk to anyone anymore. And I can throw away my new diary and all writing instruments and watch and scrabble board and phone and camera and even my own sense of self and judgment because there is probably an app for that too. I love it all. I just need to remember to Act Normally When Real People Are Around.
So my first day of ‘running’ (actually I walk then jog then walk then jog in a painful slo-mo-type-way which must be excruciating for people to witness) I donned my new running trousers and they had a little pocket in them. Kerry who went ‘running’ with me said she thought the pocket was for keys. I thought it was probably actually for the new white iPhone 4s which I had gotten the day before and so I stuffed the new phone into my pants. It bounced out of my pants and cracked the screen. So I took it back and had to pay an insurance premium and then I got another phone after a two hour wait from another Carphone Warehouse store. But they switched over my sim card and so on Tuesday afternoon I had to pick the boys from school and all of us had to get on a bus to Notting Hill to switch the sim card back over. I knew the boys would be a pain but promised them frozen yoghurt if they behaved. We got onto the crowded bus, me with double buggy, them in front of me, and they turned to each other in the aisle, grabbed each other’s heads and immediately and inexplicably gouged each other’s eyes and strangled each other’s necks and screamed like TOTAL FERAL NUTTY PEOPLE. They were so caught up in the pain-induction that they didn’t even move out of the way. They just locked on to each other like weird violent pitbulls, oblivious to the stares and gasps of horror from the public. And I was stuck with the other two in the buggy, having to wheel it along and into the parking bay bit, finally banging the buggy straight into the two weirdo vicious kids and forceably separating them from the Lock Holds Of Public Humiliation.
Then I grabbed a sweaty welty Noah away from the red and bleeding Barnaby and accidentally whacked his head into the pole in the middle of the bus aisle which made him scream and then wail in a very uncomfortable long, loud kind of way. Then when I told them both to stop, and hissed and grabbed their arms in a very hurty grip, and got very angry and told them off in that everyone is looking and listening and I want to DIE kind of way, Noah yelled at me really loudly to “SHUT UP!”.
What a triumph. A moment of pure parental wizardry. High-five to myself for excellent parenting skills.
On Wednesday morning, I asked the headmistress to give them a proper bollocking for the hideous bus behaviour. She cleverly got them both into her office and explained in her inimitable South African terrifying way that someone from the bus had called her, concerned about some very shocking behaviour from kids in school uniform from her school. She told them that this sort of thing would not be tolerated and she made them cry and said that if they ever behaved in a way like that again in public they would be punished at school through detention. It was genius.
I picked them up from school on Wednesday and Barnaby was red-eyed and sullen and told me that someone from The Public had spoken to the school about what had happened. Noah, cranky-faced and unrepentant, took one look at me and said “Don’t you ever tell on us again”. Nothing gets past that kid.
I’m glad for you that it’s not nits, but psoriasis does sound itchy and sore.
Do you think Noah might be destined for the law? I’ll leave it to you to decide in what capacity 😉
Yes, very glad I am not full of nits. Psoriasis is not entirely flattering and does tend to match my Cherry Lush in tone, but no small insects are involved. Yay. Sort of.
That is awesome, love the school getting involved like that. and how hilarious Noah totally busted you.
Also “pure parental wizardry”? Poetry, love it!
I am back on for more running / walking / listening to Derek on the ipod – Monday?
Well done you on excellent parenting and also on the running. I have just ended week two on the c25k. We can do it! You are so noble running in the dark though. At least I can run on the beach in the rising sun. On the plus, at least you will be lithe for your summer. I have also started the diet of ‘eat less rubbish’ which will surely work like jenny craig. Trouble with running is it makes you a wee bit hungry. Anyhoo. Let me know how you go, one day we can do the new york marathon, you know, for the *fitness*. Ahem.
Yes, the Less Rubbish Diet has begun here too! And I am absolutely FIXATED on the New York idea. Fixated, I tell you.
Yeah, Noah wouldn’t believe I was a real pirate either……
He’s a hard little cynic, that one. You were an excellent pirate, for all that x
I vote Noah! (Although genius parenting too, clearly.) You have insprired me a bit as I have been thinking about running again* since January 1st but was hoping to make it to the safety of February without actually doing so. Now I will, at least, look at sports bras online.
*By ‘again’ I refer not to any marathon-entering period of my late twenties but school cross-country circa 1991.
Haha! I shall convert you all to hobbling around under the guise of ‘fitness’. I am enjoying the endorphins and the flattering flush to my cheeks the fake running gives me. Go get your sports bra, sister!
I sometimes go out for what I call a ‘joggy walk’. In this I run for a bit then walk for a bit, alternating until I find myself wheezing and leaning against my front gate again. I thought all was going splendidly until I decided to WALK the same route. I was quicker walking. Old arthritic labradors run faster than me.
Re bus thing – your kids have got you absolutely sussed! May I borrow the South African Head Teacher lady? I have an 11 year old, going on 41, that needs taken down a peg or two.
Hope the sore skin gets sorted out pronto 😉
‘Joggy Walk’ is an excellent way to put it. Also ‘wunning’ or ‘ralking’ could accurately describe the walk/run ungainly hybrid. Glad to see it is not just me who sets off at a glacial pace.
Hilarious! Hilarious! Hilarious! LMAO – at the kids not your poor scalp or sore legs. My personal trainer tells me wunning is good for you – interval training 🙂
I love your blog! I have just read it aloud to my mum and we are both in fits of laugher!! I think my mum thinks you are the daughter that she should have had – she relates to your banana shampoo in the hamman and frizy, wire like hair!! You reallly have such a wonderful gift – we think you need to get this blog published! It’s genuis! Love ya xoxoxxo