A Spotty Birthday Beckons

Our house is a noisy house, a busy house and most of all a messy house.  A complete contrast to the house of my childhood.  The normal order of life doesn't quite make it through our front door most days and whilst it would drive the sanity of some through the window, Family Loizou have a tendency to thrive quite well on it. 

It has taken me many years to learn that most people don't visit your house to inspect it, and half the mess I see, they don't even notice.  I've always wanted my home to be a bustling, busy and happy one.  A home where people come in and feel at home flomping themselves on the sofa, chilling in the kitchen having a coffee or just coming and going.

The kids friends have mastered the art quite well.  Quite a few of our adult friends have too.

But there are days you have to put an embargo on house visits and today's eruption of chicken pox spots all over Sam's body have resulted in doorstep interrogations before anybody can enter.  I don't like it.  I don't like the odds of potentially telling somebody they can't come in.  So far we've been OK.  All who have entered have had the pox so this week, where every day we have friends over for tea, we're able to go ahead.  Sam's feeling quite chirpy, although a little itchy. He has a birthday coming up on Thursday which he'll be spending at home (this news was met with a resounding 'YES!!' when he was told).  We just need prayers that all his spots will be dried over before the start of Beaver Camp on Saturday, otherwise the little fella might have to miss out, which will be a rather sad end to an otherwise really great week for him.

Drummer on the motorway

My evening plans last night were scuppered when I turned east-bound onto the M4 only to hit an enormous queue of stationary traffic.  The fact the west-bound carriageway was empty didn't bode well and considering some people had already got out of their cars and started wandering around, I realised we were in for a very long wait.  I hit the traffic at 4.30pm and after speaking with other drivers were told the carriageway would open at 5.15pm.  That didn't seem so bad - until we found out that was the other side and that they hadn't cleared the accident our side yet.  Two accidents, same motorway, both directions.  Our side was due to open at the earliest, 8.30pm.

Amidst the gloom, the concern that people were seriously hurt and general banter amongst the crowd, about four cars back I heard lots of laughing and before I knew it, some guy had got out part of his drum kit, hopped it over the crash barrier into the middle of the abandoned motorway, set up and started playing. 

Eleanor and Sam thought this was fantastic - not only were they allowed to walk on the motorway, but also cross the barrier to watch him play.  Quite a crowd formed and even a dog joined the audience too!

Before long the motorway the other side opened and traffic resumed, leaving us to sit tight for another hour.  In that time, having seen the children, two adults from different vehicles approached me and offered a Yorkie bar, Pringles, orange juice and a can of coke for the children to share as they were worried they would having nothing to eat or drink the whole while.  They really were very kind.  But before long, blue lights flashed behind us, and the police turned us around.  I've never had to do that before and it felt very wierd to drive along the hard shoulder the wrong way before being diverted off through crash barriers onto another carriageway.

So, the evening plans changed, but an experience, quite oddly, I enjoyed.

Dib Dib Dib

Following last week's exciting moment where Sam became a real Beaver Scout after his investiture, which involved receiving his woggle, badges and learning to shake hands as a lefty, he proudly came home from school earlier in the week with a notification from that as it was World Thinking Day on the 22nd, he was allowed to wear his Beaver uniform to school. 

He has waited with excited anticipation for me to sew the badges onto his sweater for a few days now, but last night because I was only halfway through putting them on when it became bedtime, I had to promise him I would absolutely,without fail, ensure they were sewn on ready for the morning.  His excitement and reliance on me to carry out my promise struck me.  He's just a little dude, no real worries and no concerns about life, according to me, an adult.  Important things to him are being allowed to play on the monkey bars at school, being allowed to watch a DVD in Mum and Dad's bed before bedtime and making sure badges are sewn on a jumper in time to display them at school.  The funny thing is, none of them are achievement badges or skills badges, just the Scout logo, and the district, county and colony badge - but they were still important to him and my promise was clung to.

It's easy to get carried away with the seemingly major important things in life and to forget the little things that really matter.  To Sam it REALLY mattered that these badges were on in time, so last night, after finishing the last badge I went quietly into his room to see if he was awake and he was - just about.  Holding the jumper up to his weary eyes I whispered to him that they were all done and ready for him to wear the next day.  A huge smile appeared, the eyes opened widely and I received the most enormous hug and kiss.

It was a special moment.  There's plenty of time left yet for him to worry about the things I consider big.

Market Fun

Today I headed into the town where I work with 3 of the children, mainly to visit family and drop off presents and cards. It's amazing how just getting out into fresh air can really lift your spirits and today's trip to the fantastic fruit and veg market in the town centre offered the perfect opportunity for a bit of fun.

Samuel managed to find the most enormous potatoes and of course, we had to buy them.  I'm not sure how many chips we'll get out of these, or whether just one will cover a shepherd's pie, or even how many hours one would take to make a perfect jacket.  Either way, we had lots of giggles handing them over the lady at the market, especially as Sam struggled to hold them in his tiny hands!

Friends

I adore this picture.  My son, Sam, is on the left. 

Two little boys holding hands waiting their turn on a fun game.  Two little hands that speak many words.  'You're my friend and we're in this together'.  When they're older, they won't be holding hands with each other, but I hope when they both become young men, they have the same attitude and conviction of heart that extends their hands to any friend that needs them.