So, Tuesday came and I excitedly thought yes, today is the last day that I will have to mop up dripping water. The engineer arrived at 1.30pm and got stuck straight in. A few hours later, job done, and thankfully very little mess to clear up. I happily paid my money and off he went.
I was busy pottering around and sorting the kids for bed when I came downstairs and I thought it's cold in here. Oh joy of joy, I had no heating. It can only happen to me. OK, I've dealt with this before, my boiler is fairly temperamental at times and I've had a fair bit of practice at getting it back up and working. Yes, my boiler engineering skills were once again put to the test but after two hours I gave in and admitted defeat. There was nothing for it but to go get tucked up nice and warm in bed. I just hoped and prayed that it would all kick in in the morning as it has done on previous occasions. As you can guess on this occasion it was not to be.
My house was more like an igloo. In fact, I think an igloo would have been warmer. The poor kids got up put on their school uniforms and completed the look with their dressing gowns and sat eating their breakfast with icicles dripping off the end of their noses. I've never seen two kids so eager to get to school and into the warmth.
Another phone and another engineer and eventually after a bit of playing around with my heating system, result! Yeah, I now have heating, hot water and no leaks. Phew, what a palaver.
To add to my troubles my dad has been taken back into hospital for more treatment. It's been a very worrying few months and this week has been especially tense especially after the last treatment he had that went badly wrong and resulted in him spending a week in intensive care. A treatment he's never recovered from.
I got a phone call to say that the treatment had been started and after ten minutes had to be stopped after another bad reaction. Your mind races. What now? Eventually it was re-started and the good news is so far the signs are positive. I just hope that this time the treatment does more good than harm.
As if all that wasn't bad enough I then get a phone call from Charlie's school to say that he has been attacked by another child during the lunch hour. I was told not to worry he was OK but that he had a big red scratch on his face. They wanted to let me know before I collected him so I wasn't shocked by it. I don't know whether that just made me more anxious. To be told I wasn't to be shocked, my God, how bad was it? What have they done to my baby? I counted down the seconds until I could collect him and give him a hug. Thankfully, the mark wasn't as bad as I feared although it is a very angry looking scratch. I'm just thankful and feeling a little re-assured that that child in question has been severely dealt with. I know boys will be boys and that Charlie, at times, is no angel but I won't have him being attacked at school. He doesn't receive that sort of treatment at home and I don't expect it to happen at school.
After all that drama it was time for some nice family time. The kids have been so well behaved during the more insane moments of the week when I felt like I was going mad and have been desperate to go to the nearby toy shop and spend their birthday money. There just haven't been enough hours in the day to make that possible. Last night, I made the time and it was the much longed for trip followed by a teatime treat at MacDonald's. It was two happy little children that I kissed goodnight and tucked into bed.