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By the start of Bank Holiday Monday the kids and I were desperately in need of some time to kick back. That, and the forecast was for changeable weather and we weren't going down like that twice in one weekend. Oh no sir!

So we stayed indoors and did the sort of fun things that I usually see other mums doing online and sigh wistfully while my kids dismember something cute and fluffy.

First I taped a square of sticky back plastic to the table and handed my son a pair of scissors and a mitful of tissue paper. My son and a lethal instrument: Not a logical pairing, but hey, what Bank Holiday is complete without a trip to A&E?

Esme was asleep so I could sit with Alfie in case he got 30 seconds into ripping and sticking before deciding that the table looked at him wrong and deserved to be shanked. I had iPlayer on in the background, and it was a very compelling drama ... but suddenly it was the end of my program and I hadn't heard a sounds from my boy.

I braced myself and looked round at him expecting to see arterial splatter and severed limbs but there he was, tongue poking out, brow furrowed, completely silent apart from the rustle of tissue paper and the gentle snip of the scissors being careful and expertly used.

This was his best activity ever. Like ever in his whole life. He didn't move from the table until the whole square was covered in tissue paper. Then he watched with big owl eyes as I hacked the square into a teardrop shape and hung it from the curtain rail.

So many times recently my son seems to take big striding steps towards growing up and I feel like I can do nothing but stand and stare in awe. He is amazing and terrifying in equal measure and seeing him develop humbles me.

When he's not driving me nuts. 

After lunch we did something that Esme could join in with and turned the clothes airer into a den.


Esme patrolled the kitchen "looking for Alfie" while he hid inside. Occasionally a hand would come out to grab a drink or a toy, or a head would peer under the "door" making Esme squeal and race towards him until he squealed back and disappeared inside.

I couldn't believe how long that game lasted. I was all "Seriously Esme, you are a sport to pretend you didn't know where he was for the first hour, but for 3 straight hours? Really?"

It was a good day. Even come the evening when bed was way overdue and the kids were way overtired it felt like a really good day.

I love how that can happen when you least expect it.

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