Dexter woke up three times last night. Am clinging on to the mother's mantra that: 'Everything's a phase'. That, combined with the filthy weather, made a mid-week coffee-stop obligatory.
I had morning bus duty in the bitter wind and driving rain. I arrived at lesson one with very large hair. I made it through a morning of lessons and detentions and tutor time, to the relative calm of a free lesson, with just enough strength and motivation to send some emails and plan some resources.
After an hour-long meeting after school, we hurtled to Huffle to collect the boy. He'd been a bit boisterous today and was 'told-off' for barging a little girl out of the way. They concurred that he definitely understands 'no', and I'm pleased we are all being consistent. I fear I may be a super-strict mummy...
Lift-share friend and I had to stop at Sainsbury's on the way home. The Starbucks there was 'celebrating' its tenth birthday (there was a sign, two balloons and a disappointing lack of freebies), so it seemed rude not to join in the 'celebrations'. Whilst waiting for our beverages, Dexter was doing some standing on one of the seats, as captured in the first of today's #366 photos. Very shortly after that was taken, he spotted his dummy on the adjacent table, reached for it, grasped the table for a second and then fell, in a skydiver style, to the floor. My heart momentarily stopped. He cried for about ten seconds. There was a small, red mark on his head and he was given his dummy and a balloon to distract him (as pictured in the second photo). He wasn't keen on having any ice put on his head. I think I remained calm about the whole thing.
On returning home, I phoned my sister who reassured me that as the boy was one hundred percent his usual self - playing with his beads, giggling and squeezing out a stinky poop - he was probably fine, and it sounded like a 'good' fall... She also informed me that it was no bad thing he was reluctant to have the ice pack foist upon him, as that is not the thing to do for a bump to the head.
The only concern I have now is that I want him to sleep through for the first time this week, but if he does, I fear I will be anxious that he is in his cot with concussion. Ah, the steep learning curve that is parenting. And it's still raining.