We got up, dressed, had breakfast, loaded up the pushchair and headed out to take Summer to ‘Musical Theatre’ camp at a local theatre.

I’d packed snacks, iPad, juice – all the essentials – because my plan was to take River to the park, maybe grab a few bits from the shops, get a drink and then walk Summer home at 4pm.

Goodbye is Hard

Sadly, this did not happen.

When it was time to say goodbye to Summer, River was not happy. He screamed, thrashed around in his pushchair: “NO BYE! RIVER GO TO THEATRE! NO BYE SUMMER!” He’s still under the weather, so with the screaming and tears came a large amount of snot. I know there’s no rushing this, no reasoning, no getting him to stop. He was upset. I hadn’t explained properly that Summer was going to the theatre and that we were going to do something else.

After 10 minutes, I said enough and started to take him to the park. This involved pulling the pushchair backwards so he couldn’t ram his feet into the wheels and stop us moving. Apparently the park was not an option. Nor were the shops, as he continued screaming down the road. And then suddenly it went quiet:
“Go home.”
OK River. We’ll go home.

Spoon Count: Empty

My friend came over to keep us company and could see I was tired. I asked to go lie down, thinking I’d scroll TikTok for 10 minutes… but no. Straight asleep for a full hour.

When I woke up, she’d cleaned the kitchen, put the washing out, and made a fancy castle using the magnetic shapes.
“I tried to get him to play, but he doesn’t want to.”
She knows not to push. She knows better than most – she used to manage a SEND nursery.

The Toy Thing

The toy playing I found really hard to begin with.

I was an early years teacher. When Summer was little and we were locked in a 1-bedroom flat during COVID, I transformed our balcony into an EYFS outdoor area – complete with alphabet, numbers, sand and water trays and an easel. She adored her toys and would (sometimes still will) play with them for hours.

I tried to do the same with River. I’d set up cars, dinosaurs, trains – no joy. He loves (and still loves) balls. Particularly watching them fall or travel down a slide.

For his birthday, I wasn’t sure what to get him. He didn’t understand it was his birthday, and when I tried to explain, he got really upset. So I let it go.

Kike had started watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with him (well — the same episode on repeat, because he doesn’t like episode two), and I thought: Right. I’m going to get him some. I found a set on Facebook Marketplace and was pretty pleased with myself.

Birthday Blues

On his birthday, we gave him the bag of turtles. He screamed. “NO!” and threw the bag.

Later we tried again. He did the same thing, but this time he pointed at the TV and looked sad and confused.
“Turtles on TV. Turtles on TV.”

Looking back, it probably was quite scary to see something he loves on the screen come alive in real life. The turtles were promptly put away. He played with a balloon.

I found River’s birthday really tough.

I love birthdays. I love making a fuss, planning special things. Summer’s birthdays are military operations that I usually start planning two months in advance. This year she had a spa/cinema party. It nearly killed me! Ten, 8-year-olds screaming K-pop demon hunter songs while demanding their nails be painted but she had the best time.

I wanted to do something for River. He’s never had a party. He’s only been to one, and we had to leave because he couldn’t cope with someone else getting cake or singing.

But who would I invite? River doesn’t crave social company. He’d only want me there anyway.

Maybe I’d just make a special family dinner, have cake.
No.
“I don’t like birthday cake. No birthday.”
OK. What would River like?
“Banana bread.”

So – no happy birthday, no singing, no presents. But he did like the candle in the banana bread.

I cried that evening. But Kike and I talked it through. River had a lovely day. I did manage to get a hit of a present – Monkey See, Monkey Poo, which had him shouting with joy. We’d assumed that phrase was from YouTube, but no it’s a board game where the monkey poos out banana-scented playdough, you put it in his hands and you fling it to knock cardboard bananas off a tree.
Yes. It’s ridiculous.
Yes. He loved it.
Yes. Definitely the perfect game for a child still working on social understanding.

He loved his balloon. He loved his banana bread. And he went to bed happy.

Letting Go of “Should”

I’m learning to let go of expectations. To stop holding on so tightly to how things should go.

Today, we didn’t make it to the park.
It’s OK.

There’s always tomorrow.

Second Attempt

After my nap, my amazing friend asked what else she could do.
What would help me?

I needed to go to the shops and get some clothes for River. So, pushchair loaded up, and off we went again. This time we made it. She sat with him, doughnuts in hand, while I popped into the shops. Perfect.

We even managed a quick drink before 4pm rolled around and it was time to collect Summer.

A Review from the Star

She liked her day, though apparently she’s not a fan of the dancing part.
onestly, I would love a musical theatre workshop.
I mean love it.
Nothing would make me happier.

(Well… maybe a Eurovision themed workshop. That might tip me over the edge.)