I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, swollen glands and a throat full of (metaphorical) razor blades. I was very, very close to phoning in sick. In teaching though, it's often easier to be there. By the time you've set cover, passed on various messages and jiggled your duty around - never mind the inconvenience to colleagues and letting the students down - the more straightforward option is to drag yourself in. So I did. I had got through half a packet of Nurofen Express by lunchtime.
I still felt pretty rubbish by the time I had got the boy home. We managed some snacking and some singing, and then Dexter was happy to crawl over to his special 'toy corner' in the living room.
In an attempt to avoid the flat being taken over by baby paraphernalia, and in a bid towards general neatness, Dexter has a collection of toys, books and his (Murray) Walker, stored down the side of an armchair. We have noticed that he is generally happy to play with said toys and 'read' his books, whilst actually sitting in the corner. A family member, who is also a primary school teacher, was telling me of the importance of a sheltered and quiet little spot where the tiny people can go to have some quiet play. She makes a real thing of it in her classroom. I love this idea. The husband spends hours in our study where the computer is. I am craving a stylish desk and iPad (wishful thinking) in the corner of our bedroom.
To quote Virginia Woolf: "A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." Whilst the boy is unlikely to write any seminal modernist literary texts any time soon, I hope his little sanctuary gives him the space to relax and reflect after a busy day.