A Little Regret
6am wake-up. We’re back to this again.
It’s OK though, I actually had quite an early night after the disaster that was ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’
It all started brilliantly. I’d forgotten how much I loved some of the songs and managed to convince (force) both children to put down their iPads and watch it with me. And then… well, this one’s on me, I forgot the ending.
Trigger warning for a nearly 40-year-old spoiler: it does not end well. Apparently, River was paying attention, because when Audrey 2 ate Audrey, we had a full emotional breakdown.
I held him quietly while Kike desperately searched for The Gruffalo.
“NO FLOWER! NO FLOWER!” slowly turned into “It’s the fox!”
We know this one left a trauma print. Probably one of many.
Honestly, with his Halloween obsession, you’d think a singing, people-eating plant would be a hit. Apparently not.
Next on the list is Hairspray. Let’s see how he handles systemic racism, honestly, if he reacts, I’ll be proud.
Our Morning Script
Back to the morning routine.
I go into his room:
“Good morning, River.”
“Hello, Mummy.”
Still in his cot (safety first, though we’ll be changing that soon) we do potty, juice, first breakfast.
He tells me, “It’s very dark, mummy curtains,” and I open them.
“Breakfast and blue one.” (His iPad is blue.)
He sits. I go back to bed. This is our dance.
We’ve followed this same script for over two years now. I used to say every step aloud, and now he says it to me. I lie in bed until around 7am, listening to the faint hum of Halloween tunes coming from the lounge.
Garden Fences & Grocery Wins
The fridge was officially empty. Again. Frozen croissants, again. No one’s complaining.
In an uncharacteristic burst of energy, I put on the Little Shop soundtrack and started cleaning the kitchen, again, always cleaning. I was right in the middle of Suddenly Seymour when there was a knock at the door.
The gardener. I had totally forgotten.
He was there to assess our fence. Let’s be clear we are in no way in a financial state or have a big enough garden to warrant a gardener, he helped us out a year ago with some paving. It’s in bad shape, panels rotting, cats sneaking in and more importantly, it’s no longer safe to leave River alone in the garden even for a moment.
Stupidly, I walked the gardener through the back gate without saying goodbye to River. He thought I’d disappeared. Full meltdown. Screaming child, fence inspection = just another Wednesday morning. Apparently, the whole fence needs replacing. I’m fully expecting a quote I’ll need a credit card for.
Chaos, Then Groceries
Gardener leaves at 9am. I scrape together lunch for Summer from the “bare minimums” in the fridge. (Don’t worry, I save the good stuff for her.)
Kike’s stressed because he’s got a work call at 10am and he’s doing theatre drop-off.
As I go to get myself ready, the doorbell goes again, it’s the food shopping. YES.
We tag-team unpacking. Kike dresses River. I pack the day bag and we’re out the door at 9:58am.
SEND Events, Algorithms & Mud Kitchens
A Facebook algorithm showed me a SEND-friendly bouncy castle event in Hanwell and I figured, why not? I booked us a slot and one for an accompanying adult.
I’m learning to prep River in steps, so I told him: bus, then bouncy castle.
He was VERY excited and bounced around the house until we left, still asking if we were going to the museum.
We met our “accompanying adult” outside, a friend I met at work, someone who immediately felt familiar. She’s quickly become a part of our extended family, helping at BBQs and events with River. I knew she’d be perfect today.
We arrived at the venue. It was remote. I wasn’t sure we were in the right place.
“You must be here for the bouncy castle!” someone said.
River shouted “YES!”
And we were led to… a lovely gated playground. Sand tray, mud kitchen, craft table… but no bouncy castle.
Managing Disappointment
I want to say first: I love that people put on specific events for SEND children. I appreciate it deeply. But this? Slight error.
The event started at 10:30am. We arrived at 10:45am, no bouncy castle. River was not impressed. Emergency crisps were deployed. A brief detour to the mud kitchen (complete with murky rainwater) helped.
At 11am, the castle inflated. River sprinted over, stripped off his shoes and socks, bounced for eight minutes, then needed the potty. I carried him over the gravel to the main building and back. He played with a balloon for five minutes.
Then: “Home”
He got in his pushchair and said, “Bye bye bouncy castle.”
He even released the balloon with a teary, “Bye bye balloon.”
I’d paid for this. I had assumed this would take longer. But the message was clear, we were done.
So, we left.
A Playground Connection
We aimed for a local pub with a slide. River fell asleep before we even reached the bus stop.
When he woke up, we had the place nearly to ourselves. River played alone for a while, then a little girl (who turned out to be his age) wanted to join. This always makes me nervous, I never know what to expect, and what apology I may need to prepare.
But it went beautifully.
No words were exchanged, just River throwing a tennis ball down the slide stairs, and her retrieving it. Over and over again, both laughing hysterically.
My friend and I laughed too, maybe a bit too hard – relief is funny like that.
A Rant Worth Repeating
We talked about how frustrating it is being told that SEND children need to “socialise” and then being offered artificial solutions: a small room, other kids who also struggle socially, scripted interactions involving LEGO or a bucket.
That’s not it. That’s not connection.
Kids show us how they want to relate. They lead the way. Our job is to watch, to learn, to scaffold, not script.
(Yes, I told you there will be more education rants.)
A Lovely Evening (With Wine)
Summer and Kike joined us and it was a lovely way to end the day.
Did River break a glass? Yes.
Did he refuse all the food I ordered him? Obviously.
Did he say goodbye to his new best friend multiple times? Of course. But I had wine. And a supportive friend.
That’s what I needed.
50 days of River 
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