I have decided that I think I like all of my classes this year. I have also decided I probably will not like Tuesdays this year. My Year 11 class last year (loved them), got me into the idea that Tuesdays are rubbish on account of them not being the start of the week, but also not close enough to the end of the week and therefore the weekend. Today has been too busy and too long.
It was joyous to see the boy toddling in the playground at a later than usual nursery pick-up. I didn't really notice the big scrape on his chin, the line down his cheek and the slightly swollen eye: all a result of some slightly over- enthusiastic leaping from a climbing frame. He seemed fine, I signed an accident form, and consoled myself that if I did send him to a Scandinavian forest school, then he'd probably get into far worse scrapes.
This evening, Dexter couldn't settle and got his leg stuck in his cot. His beloved 'blankie' was in the washing machine on account of him insisting on dragging it around the playground after him. The husband and I went up to console the boy. Dexter thought it was hilarious to race into our room and get into our bed.
We eventually got him back into his cot with a clean and freshly tumble-dried/slightly damp blankie. He soon fell asleep, leaving another Tuesday behind. Until the next one...