Family Affairs and other matters

My youngest child was eight today and I was wrong. My wake-up call was in fact 4.03am this morning. He couldn’t open his presents until 7.30am when his father had arrived and what a long and arduous three and a half hours that was for both of us.

I think he had a lovely day. It’s hard to tell. He cried as his head hit the pillow after a family meal out at the restaurant of his choice. His choice being slightly influenced by the fact that they make a fuss of you on your birthday at this particular restaurant, bringing a special pudding skewered with a sparkler and loud waiters playing spanish guitars. Last time we were there he went and told them it was his birthday and I made him go and apologise before they arrived with flamboyant extravagance because it wasn’t in fact his birthday at all and you can’t go round simply making things like that up.

Anyway, today he was allowed to revel in all his glory and to enjoy the other customers singing happy birthday to him. He loved, loved, loved it. But still, he cried before he fell asleep. “I’ve been waiting for like the longest 5 weeks of my life for my birthday and now it’s all over already and I have to wait ANOTHER two years till the next one”. I was thinking that perhaps I need to start working on his sense of time and space, but too tired to worry about it at that precise moment.

His report arrived today and what a difference a year makes. Last year he was on learning support and his teacher was suggesting that as a family we go to art therapy and now, apparently “he has a much more focused and mature attitude to his work”. So what’s that about then? I’m sure he is more settled now we’ve moved into our own house and I think the fact that he is one of the youngest in the class had an effect, but still. He’s improved hugely. Good for him. Even better, his teacher said that “over the year he has become a really helpful member of the class”, with a “team-spirit”. Brilliant. Very happy. His report was much better than his brother and sister’s this year.

So whilst he was at school for his 8th birthday his brother and sister slobbed about doing very little. My teenage son has actually got a blister on his hand. Can you believe that having bought “Beijing ’08″ Xbox game he and his cousin played on it virtually all day and found it exhausting. I came in at one point to find them flat out – one with sweaty armpits and the other with blisters after attempting to win the 100m. It’s completely ridiculous. “Mum, you don’t get it, it’s really hard work, you should try the 200m or the swimming, it’s SO tiring”.