OH takes the boys to school and speaks to the hauswart at both schools. Unfortunately they seem to only speak Schweizer Deutsch (rather than Hoch Deutsch) but apparently are very pleasant and try to be helpful. But there’s no sign of the scooter.
Thursday C arrives home at lunchtime absolutely yellow and having been sick on the way to his final lesson of the morning. It’s not his week really, poor darling. So after shovelling some calpol into him I pack him off straight to bed with some peppermint tea. He wants to help with the birthday baking, but something tells me that's not such a good idea....
J has had a German test and got 4-5. He looks a bit fed up about it but I am absolutely bouncing off the ceiling with joy – I have never seen him work as hard as he is working here, and I do think his teachers are realising that and encouraging him.
Friday J comes home with a school-made diploma certificate congratulating him on his “excellent” improvement in the Kopfrechnen (mental arithmetic) – he has reduced his time very significantly. Fantastic. I’m really thrilled for him and with him.
Friday also sees C’s 8th birthday, and he manages to end the week happy despite the upset and sickness. His main present ? A desk, with all the trimmings - there is room for him to have one in their new bedroom. Yes, I know I'm beginning to sound like the over-anxious and over- achieving mother from John O'Farrell's brilliant satirical novel May Contain Nuts, but bear with me. C wanted a desk, so he could be just like his big brother, working in his own space and not at the kitchen table. I've not checked his maths homework for at least 2 weeks, as I'm honestly now confident that if he has learning issues then they will be detected and dealt with appropriately. And the boys do also thump each other, scrap, wrestle and fight regularly with the time honoured tradition of brotherly love, so they're not really both complete swotty angels. Honest.
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