6:07am – And We’re Off Again

Kike was first up today, collecting our coughing little boy from his bed. Thankfully, he’d slept through the night, the sofa bed we set up wasn’t needed after all (small victories).

Cereal, juice, and iPad in hand, River settled into the morning rhythm. Kike returned to bed for a bit, and I got a rare period of time to chat with him. Obviously soundtracked by “Mum, Mummy, Mum” on a 20-second loop and the newer addition:
“Help! I’m scared!”
(Thanks again, YouTube)

---

Two of My Least Favourite Things

On today’s schedule: two of my personal parenting nightmares – haircuts and soft play.

Pushchair loaded, snacks prepped, energy summoned, and off we went for our 9am haircut appointment.

Haircuts have always been difficult. River has sensory processing issues, and people touching his head, especially with scissors, is not his idea of fun.

I’ve tried everything:

• The cute kid’s salon with the cars and fish tanks (overwhelming and £30 – hard pass).
• The standard barber (full meltdown, iPad thrown, left with a half haircut).

Then I found this little salon recommended on Facebook and bless the woman who cuts his hair.
Last time she followed him through 12 different spots in the salon while he screamed “NO!! GET OFF!” and still managed to get most of the job done.

Operation Haircut

So I went in armed: iPad, juice, jelly beans
9am = empty salon = win.

They remembered us (of course) but still smiled warmly.

He played with familiar toys but the second the scissors came out so did the shouting. “NO SCISSORS! I DON”T LIKE IT! NO!”

We did pressure hugs. Jelly beans flowed. Somehow – miraculously – he made it to a chair.

The next 25 minutes were like a round of parenting Twister:

• I had to be close enough to reassure him
• But far enough to not block the hairdresser
• Who had to hide the scissors and sneak cuts in silently

Covered in hair but victorious, River caught his reflection:
“I have short hair!”
Yes, you have short hair. Say thank you?
“I don’t like hairdresser.”
Fair enough. I do. A lot and she can get the maximum tip.

---

Soft Play (Briefly…)

Now. About soft play.
I don’t usually do it. For many reasons (and a future blog post) but mostly because it’s chaotic, overstimulating and unpredictable, for River and for me.

But a brand-new one had just opened near the salon and I’d emailed ahead to ask about quiet sessions. The manager kindly invited us to come chat and check it out.

It’s a lovely little place, really well done and River loved it.
But it was just too busy for him.

So we kept it short and sweet, knowing he’d already been through a lot this morning.

He had a little cry on the bus home not a meltdown, just tired tears and I knew I’d made the right call leaving early.

---

Home by 11:20am

Just in time for lunch prep and an emotional exhale. A lot before noon.

---

Sunshine = Washing

The sun came out and, like any adult over 40, I got genuinely excited, perfect drying weather.

River played briefly outside with water containers but gravitated back to the sofa – cold still hanging on. Guess it’ll be an inside day.

---

Superworm on Repeat

I made a call I knew I’d have to eventually – no YouTube today on the TV.
I couldn’t face “Halloween Finger Family” or whatever algorithm-curated horror show was next on the autoplay list.

We compromised. We put on Superworm (as we’ve been reading the book) and honestly, I’ll take it. There’s rhythm, there’s narrative structure, there’s no jump scares. Small mercies.

---

Family Admin Time

With River watching and relatively calm, I turned to my favourite task: family admin.
Today’s job? Sorting after-school care for the Autumn Term.

Kike and I both work full-time because, well… London.
We’re not unique in this, it’s the reality for most families we know. The only reason we don’t use breakfast club is because Kike doesn’t work traditional hours.

I work in a local school, which helps a little, but I can’t do pick-up at 3:15pm because surprise I’m still teaching and dismissing my class at that time. So we need childcare for that awkward in-between window: 3:15–4:15pm.

A One-Hour Puzzle

Summer’s been going to after-school club for years, but now she’s decided it’s boring.
She wants “proper” clubs now and who can blame her?
The menu includes:

• Street Dance
• Gardening
• Cooking
• Mindfulness
• Science Club

They all sound wonderful… until you see the cost: £12–15 per session. Per child.

Then we have River.

---

‘That Quiet Chat’

Last term, I was pulled aside for a ‘Quiet Chat’ at after school club and any parent reading this knows that phrase makes your stomach drop.

They said River might need extra support and gently mentioned we may have to start paying a premium to cover it.

Cue immediate tears. Not anger just that awful wave of guilt and fear and frustration and sadness, all at once.

But I said yes. Of course I said yes. Because if I can’t cover that hour, I’d have to stop working again and I can’t lose that.

Returning to work has brought me back to myself:

• I get to do the thing I love
• I get adult conversation
• I get financial independence

Quick / Not accurate Maths (Brace Yourself)

• 1 Term = 15 weeks = 75 school days
• £12hour per child = £1,800 minimum
• Full year = £5,400–£6,000
• That’s for one hour a day

If I worked until 5pm? I don’t even want to think about it.

Let’s also not forget the fun evening extras: Gymnastics, Jiu-jitsu, Swimming lessons

Here’s hoping we don’t get the “premium” added. But if we do, I’ll pay it.

---

Evening Reset

The afternoon unfolded pretty much as expected:
Three rounds of Superworm, two of The Gruffalo, one Tiddler and then the tears arrived.

Calpol, then back to the iPad. We were firmly in sofa territory.

I’d hoped to get out again, maybe just for a little wander but it wouldn’t have been fair. River’s cold has him craving comfort and today that means screens, hugs and sofa.

Kike got home and took one look at me. He knows. I was flat.

Earlier, someone I follow on Instagram posted a string of chaotic stories about how she couldn’t understand how influencers make money. Then apologised for acting “a bit crazy” because she hadn’t had an adult conversation in three days.
Honestly, I find it hard after one.

Kike suggested what he always suggests:
“Let’s have a BBQ.”

Now, normally I’d roll my eyes but Summer was home from holiday club, tired and buzzing from a full day of slip ‘n slide fun and the sun was still out. It didn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounded like exactly what I needed.

So I’m posting early today. I’m going to sit in the garden with a glass of wine, listen to some 90s pop and have an actual conversation with another adult.

River may join, or he may stay inside glued to Halloween YouTube and either way, it’s okay.

Because sofa days are allowed.
For him.
And for me.