Oh what fun we were supposed to have today at the park! We started out all very sitcom-y, taking scooters and bubble wands to Kensington Gardens for some Springish larking. It began promisingly, looking like this:
and then I decided to take a photo of a tree and fiddle about with Instagram (my new virtual lover) and disappointingly came up with this:
while this sweetly disengaged-from-the-world little guy headed off in the wrong direction, quite possibly thinking very hard about popcorn or cows or screwdrivers:
And we lost him for 45 minutes. We needed TWO police vans to help scour the park until we finally found him with some lovely non-molesting-type grandparents who had decided to save the weeping five year old who said his mother had “probably gone to the shops because she really likes buying things“.
For the record, I didn’t go to the shops, nor did I buy anything. I was searching for my hapless son and calling the police and trying not to panic. All Proper Parental Responses, thankyouverymuch.
Anyway, we had a chat about what to do when you are lost, and the policeman told Noah to stick to us all the time. It was all things at once – relieving, humiliating, frightening, funny, awful. I am waaaaaay too tired for such Sunday Amateur Dramatics.
Too tired to go slo-mo jogging, and too tired to stay awake this afternoon. Much too tired to do any cleaning, although that goes without saying. My tiredness mostly comes from being 8 weeks pregnant. Which I KNOW I am supposed to keep secret, but I cannot. Secrets are also too tiring. And so, hopefully there shall be a December baby, although our flat got visited by WORMS last week, of the itchy-bottom kind (rather than the tropical swimming-through-your-eyeballs-kind, obvs) and we all got a dose of the worming tablet and then I read the small print and it says DONTTAKEIFYOUAREPREGNANT!FOOL!
It doesn’t say what kind of terrible worm-related deformity I may have caused the poor baby but I do lie awake at night imagining. It could be very bad. Like one of those moles with the wormy noses.
Oh man, I just about need a therapy session after that. I am sorry to the baby. You will not look like a wormy mole. You shall be handsome like your brothers, and you will not have a pelt, or live in the ground. These things I swear. Anyway, in preparation, we have bought a Bugaboo, and I have bought an 18th century French crocheted baby bonnet. All sorted then! I hear you cry. There is, however, the small issue of where we shall house said normal-looking-baby, so we have been looking around at houses to buy. I made the mistake of going to the Living Etc magazine’s open home tour last month, where they give you a tour of some of the homes they have featured in the magazine. WELL! Best to remain naive about how other people live, I think. Houses like this:
It killed me a little bit inside. So, anyway, we cannot afford anything actually at all, so the said normal-looking baby will just have to find somewhere to squeeze in. It’s all character-building, as they say.
What else? There was a week in Devon, which was delicious, owing to the daily clotted cream and hevva buns with damson jam. The children had a daily meal of fish and chips in whatever pub would have us, and we watched season one of Breaking Bad. All in all, a lovely little holiday.
Here is Devon:
And Sir Francis Drake:
And a lovely church in Tavistock:
There was a pool and a hot tub and goats and ponies and castles and squashed toads and badgers. It was a kind of Boy Nirvana. There is a post to be made concerning the antique naval shop that we found, and the now gleaming brassy boaty things we have dotted around the flat, but that is for another day. It is a little bit troublesome, this new antique obsession, but what can you do?
Roight. I have to go and think about going for a jog, although I think I can hear rain. Cup of tea and a lie down time, then.
The Harridan 
My Dr had me cover myself from head to toe in scabies lotion (ah teenage kicks) when I was pregnant with my eldest. No ill came of it though he isn’t keen on sheep. Turns out I had pregnancy rash not scabies anyway. Congratulations!
Scabies? Ha! That does make me feel a little better!
Wow! 🙂
Wow. Neat. I wish we’d never left.
Which bit did you most like? The police bit sucked, but the squashed toads and mucho cream in Devon was pretty ace.
This is too funny! I laughed out load when I read what Noah said. Glad you found him. Too terrifying when a child is lost. Try to get some rest (if possible with four active boys). Sending helpful vibes your way.
Thank you! Lovely photos of the iguana, by the way! Love to your gang x
Oh how scary! So glad it all turned out ok, despite the drama of the police vans! I once lost my middle son at Chiswick bootfair, for about 30 mins I was frantic and we had everyone who worked there looking and calling out on the loud speaker – he was happily playing in the sandpit, oblivious! Whilst mummy shopped for clothes and vintage stuff – shameful me! So I totally understand the ‘Mummys always buying things’ remark.
Congrats on your pregnancy! How exciting! Keep us posted!
Oh man..it is good to know these things don’t just happen to me! And thanks – am very pleased to be pregnant again!
That’s awful poor you, the stuff of nightmares! Really exciting re pregnancy x
Yes, it was awful! But all ok in the end. PHEW
Perhaps the worm tablet will make a girl baby? A super girl baby that never requires de-worming. All the best chickybabe.
Many congratulations on your impending baby! I think that star-nosed moles are too sweet for words…maybe even more so than babies, so I wouldn’t worry too much; I’m sure your newest family member will be lovely!
HUGE congrats! Fingers and toes crossed for a December baby girl! 😉
P.S. Virtually everyone I know has lost their child at some point. Now whenever I take Benjamin to a big public place, I make him wear a red top!! Easier to spot him from a distance, and a good stand-out colour for others in search party to look for too! (Can you imagine if I had more than one child – we’d look like Team Red!)
Ohhhhh, congratulations! I hope everything goes beautifully and wormlessly!
This post has it all, drama, adventure, horror, love, surprise, food, laughter and tears. I’m glad it all worked out, nothing like a little scare to remind the kids to pay attention……. lets se if it helped all? Hugs xx
Oh, so scary.
I think every parent goes through it at least once. My wee boy, when he was 3, thought it would be fun to hide from us in Marks & Sparks, by standing inside a coat on a hanging rack.
Oh what fun he thought as Mum, Dad, elder sister, 3 staff and a manager scurried artound the place looking for him..
Oh what fun it was when he jumped out and said BOO!
Oh what fun ti was explaining to the staff that he wasn’t really hiding from his cruel parents.
Oh what fun it was when I got the little bastard back home.
Oh what fun it was when he sat in his room, without dinner, but with a slighly sore bum.
Hope everything works.
Hope you are joking
Joking about smacking him, not joking about going to bed without his dinner.
I’ve lost my daughter twice in her young life. The first time was a case of baby brain when I forgot I had a baby and left her asleep in her pram parked in a department store. The next time was in a supermarket. She was blissfully studying the muesli bars while I panicked. So happy about the new bub. Tara
Glad Devon was so wonderful, and thrilled about your news. Love the Mole pic, still desperate to see one in real life. On the child-losing front; mine was a runner and still gets lost, and can’t be relied on to pronounce names/phone numbers/addresses clearly. I used the dayglo ‘if I’m lost look inside’ plastic loops you can buy in Boots. You then write your mobile no. with waterproof pen on them, attach to clothing where they can’t get at it (used to put on J’s trouser belt-loop ….). These days I stuff one of my Moo business cards on him (and on Noah when I took him with us to Kew), and tell them to give it to a grown-up who either works at the place we’re at (uniform, label), or is a parent with another child, or failing all of those, a friendly-looking lady…..of course the last time I spectacularly lost J, at Savill Gardens, there was no mobile reception….so new strategy after the card-handing out business, is to tell him if my phone doesn’t answer, to find cafe or shop of such places and stay there til I appear. Hours of fun, ownership of runners….