Wedding bliss

I persuaded the children to sit on the sofa with me to watch the Royal Wedding.

"It's the dress I want to see," I told them. "10.51: that's when we'll get the first glimpse."

Sure enough, knowing her duty to her future family means sticking to the clockwork timetable, Catherine Middleton emerged from the Goring Hotel on time. I, of course, am engrossed. It looks big, not sleek and slinky. It looks lacy on top. But really, it is impossible to see much in those few seconds, what with the car in the way and a lady running around with a camera.

My son and daughter are less enthusiastic than me. My daughter is excited by her name. "Is it Catherine with a K?" she asks. When told no, her response is that it is like my name.

"Well, a bit," I say, "but mine has an A in it. CathArine, not CathErine."

You see - that's what I am: Catharine with an A.

My son is intrigued by the wedding malarky, but states quite categorically that he is only interested in the kiss. When they said their vows he asked, "Do they kiss now?" (Clearly not.) And when they were on the balcony he was looking away when they first kissed and had to rewind! Thank goodness they did it a second time when he was watching!

But this is leaping ahead. The bride gets into her car, the train follows, and then her father sits by her side. No-one seems too flustered, not even that photographer. Everybody settled in and the car begins to move away.

Then my daughter says, "Is Catherine the one in white?"

Love: Solving the Valentine's Day Mystery

On Monday my son checked the front door two, if not three, times before going to school. He never normally looks in the porch in the morning. The post always arrives after he goes to school. I am the one who ventures outside for the milk. There is no reason to look. Unless...

... unless you are expecting something.

But, of course, he is a boy. A 10-year-old boy. They are not interested in girls and love and stuff. Oh no! Girls are the enemy, the slime on the earth, people to be avoided at all times.

So, of course, there is no reason to be checking the porch for a card, is there? None whatsoever.

When I stopped laughing at this (quietly, behind his back, in a loving mother fashion) I had a mild concern as I knew there was a card and present coming from a girl in his class, because her mum had told me so! 

Nevertheless he had a full day at school and when he got home I asked, "Did you get any Valentine's cards then?" (I'd abandoned subtlety at this point.)

"No!" he said emphatically. But his eyes were gleaming and he was smiling from ear to ear.

"Really? None?"

"No. Nothing," and slunk off up to his bedroom.

So then I was baffled. I knew he was due to get one; he's claiming not to have one. Did she bottle out? Was our front door too difficult to approach, given the dug-up driveway? Is his funny grin a sign that he really did, or that his embarrassing Mother is being laughed at for asking?

A nosey mother only has one more route to go: talk to the girl's mother. Bluffing my way through the conversation I learnt that she did (via a friend - how else?!) give him a card and a little present, as expected.

Armed with this ammunition I ask my son last night one last time: "Are you sure you got nothing for Valentine's Day?"

Time had weakened his resolve (or I had battered it down relentlessly), for immediately he said yes, and took me up to his bedroom to show me. He was given a beautiful little bear, and a handmade card.

"But look, mum, I couldn't tell you," he says. "She wrote inside 'Don't tell anybody about this.'"

I have learnt my lesson. Not telling anybody includes - logically - his mum. He honoured the girl's wish. What more could a mother ask of a son?

So who got the Valentine?

Who got the Valentine's Card in our house?

Was it me?

No, although my lovely husband cooked me a splendid dinner. I spent the day ferrying my children to their grandparents (a three hour train journey each way). I read a lot of my book...

Was it my husband?

No, I'm pretty hopeless and unromantic. But I did buy him some jelly babies (two of which he presented to me in a curtain ring when he proposed all those years ago, so maybe I have a hint of romance in my bones.)

Was it my seven-year-old daughter?

No. The most beautiful girl on the planet but really, really too young.

Was it my nine-year-old son?

YES!

Some girl spent a lot of time preparing this beautiful card, covered in hearts, some cut out of tissue and coloured paper. Was it the girl I saw running away from his friend's house, having put a red envelope through the letterbox? Was it a girl from his birthday party? Worse - was it the sister of a girl from the birthday party winding them both up?

He doesn't know, so I guess I'll never know. He also doesn't seem too bothered. In contrast, I'm on edge! I can't believe he's old enough for receiving Valentine's cards, and I'm quite sure I'm not ready for any emotional complications.

Thank goodness we'd had that little chat about concubines...

True love never runs smooth

Last weekend we had my son's birthday party.

He's nine. He requested a LaserQuest party, having gone once with the church youth group and had a great time. By having twelve children there they had the place to themselves. Of course, he invited fourteen, expecting some to be unable to come - but they all could! So much for my father's theory that 20% of people can't attend when invited!

I know - all this is pretty routine stuff. What is unusual, for a nine-year-old boy, is that he invited girls. Of his own volition.

And all five of them came!

Girls are, of course, different to boys. Like me, they are all perfectly behaved and quiet and unassuming (ahem!)

They got picked last for the teams (grrrr) but thankfully each team won one game each (phew!) Then, when eating afterwards I can categorically state that not one of the girls started eating the polystyrene tub the food came in; none of them put plastic bands in their mouths to look like toothless aliens; and I'm sure they felt quite justified in throwing back the ketchup covered paper that was hurled their way. [I love boys' parties...]

One asked me, "Are all boys' parties like this?" Felt obliged to be honest.

My son, of course, got teased for inviting girls. He took it well - just slightly pink. He was sat next to one of the girls, J, which didn't help matters. And of course various other boy/girl mixes were touted as being boyfriend/girlfriend, to the amusement of those with the loudest voices and greatest need to be macho...

It is quite a scary thought that I have all this - and more - to come! Aged nine, I can laugh it off, but in only a few years it will be serious. Then hormones will rage through the house. No boy will be good enough for my daughter, and I will worry about my son's choice of girl. I'll have to trust them on dates, enjoy the extended family company and - worst of all - recognise that I will be second in their lives! Oh, the joys of parenthood - the drip, drip, drip of letting go.

So, imagine my delight when an email comes through from J's older sister:

I've found out that J really likes you. Would you go out with her? (If you dont know what that means, just reply!!)

I show it to Son.

"But we're just friends!" he says.

And I smile, because he means it. And he understands that P's sister is winding her up as much as him.

And he smiles.

'Cos it's lovely to be loved. Even a little bit.

And even when you're not. Not really.

It's good to have friends.

Aaaahhh!!

Just have to brag.

Hubbie truly excelled himself this year for Valentine's Day.

Firstly, he remembered (always a bonus, I feel).

Secondly, he packed the kids off to bed (well, my son. I had to deal with our daughter, who currently thinks Mum is the bees knees and has to do everything with her and her only.)

Then, he ran me a bath, played Mozart and Brahms (on a CD, you understand, rather than personally!) and lit the room with dozens of candles. After dressing for dinner I was served a three course banquet - including asparagus and a very rich chocolate tarte. With champagne (ok, some fizzy wine, but it was really nice). And a single red rose. I don't think I've ever had such romance piled on!

So:

flowers - tick

champagne - tick

food - tick

candles - tick

All together a big tick for hubbie - thank you!!