It was all happening at chez M-G last week.
Fucked off to Point Lonsdale for the week. All in the name of education. But the poor thing was so tired, apparently, that he decided to take up drinking caffeinated coffee again after I expressly warned him I would not live through another ridiculous, junkie-like withdrawal performance. By Saturday afternoon, he was alluding to a killer headache having had his last coffee only hours before. Whatever.
Fucking saint personified. All week, all-star mother. And here's the crazy bit – the kids are better behaved when their father is not around. Only one parent means only one answer. And B is most definitely more susceptible to the manipulations of crafty littles. Me, I'm a hard arse. I know all their tricks, having perfected them during my own childhood. Kids, I am hip to your game. And plus, I'm one half of team Superstar!
Fucking cute other half of Team Superstar! Was pretty much a gem all week, bless his cottony little socks. However, during a wardrobe call for the TV gig in which we met with the stylist to try on various costume possibilities, after the third top change, LD clung to the shirt on his back and wailed that he could not possibly take it off. Thus ended his wardrobe fitting. Ah well, they were lucky to get three changes.
Fucking little button of cuteness who, this week, started answering the "What does the fish say?" question with a little popping mouth sound. Excellent mimic this one. Not everything, of course. Clearly, he doesn't repeat after me when I say, for instance, that his big brother is vexatious in his recalcitrance. But the word is he said 'apple' today….
Family portrait of the week? Single mothers don't take family portraits because they're too busy downing valium.
This was actually taken today – which was a very looong day for LD and I. But more about that tomorrow.