bot bot poopy dump

I still get St Marks emails, and I still read them even if they're for second hand furniture. Habit I guess. But there was a prayer letter from a guy (who I hardly know at all) in Africa - and as I read it I felt like I'd never again have anything to write and if I did I'd write it badly. I almost feel like I've had a stop over in Niger. Anyway, I don't actually have anything much to say tonight but I'm awake and hungry and when I go to bed that's when I'll feel tired.

It seems everyone here grows strawberries, and we have raspberries too. Here is the harvest -
We went to a milkshake place in Brighton where they blended up Oreos with ice cream and a bit of milk with whipped cream on top - yum! So Little Man requested the same ingredients and we had it tonight for "pudding." Yum. You only need one or two Oreos!

Poor Little Miss fought a diarrhea bug yesterday, which is horrible for anyone, but it's really upsetting when you're four and you don't get to the toilet in time and your tummy hurts and you don't really know why. She was tired too, she actually fell asleep on the couch which I was half expecting given how slow she'd been going all day. She stayed home from nursery this morning, and I limited the diet to plain foods. Apparently raspberry leaf tea is good but she wasn't so keen. She's pretty well recovered. Kids are so tough and adaptable, except when they know you have control over the situation, i.e. the TV... I have the Power Rangers theme song in my head a lot of the time. I can only watch one 1993 episode a day, because the storyboard is exactly the same they just replace the monster and the puns, it's cute sometimes... But the newer stuff is unbearable. I hate it. I feel less ill cleaning up runny poo from the floor.

Speaking of poo, I should explain the title. You would think that I'd get more toilet talk from the 10 year old boy than the 4 year old boy? Nope. She loves the loo - spends ages on there singing and talking and pooing and weeing and decorating with toilet paper streamers. Washing hands - bubbles bubbles I've got bubbles bubbles on my hands all bubbly... Looking after kids means going at their pace. Walking home can be running after a scooter or waiting with arms folded until the threat is high enough. It's a different way of life to a regimented boarding school or a bookshop, or simply deciding when you'll do things because you're on your own.

Speaking of being on my own, the roaming holiday (haha, Roman holiday) is still in planning stages but there are youth hostels all around (don't worry - I'm not seeking out the "party ones" as Mum called them) and I've got enough in the bank. I'm not going to post an itinerary here or anything, but I'll try and remember to take photos!? You never know - I might end up just having the weekend in Edinburgh and staying here for the two weeks before hand. Hopefully not.