You know, Shihad is really good music to fold washing to. And tidy up cupboards and do the ironing.
A big, mysterious box arrived from Dunedin today. Thanks, Catherine and Clan!! Sweeney was in such a tizz when we got home tonight, that I don't think he even noticed it sitting in the middle of the second stair. I think he's having another Grow, what with the huge amount that he's eating suddenly, and news from his teacher tonight that he's been rowdier and more unco-operative than usual this week, not listening so well as usual. Also that he's got strong opinions all of a sudden. Well, he yells "No!!" at me more than I'm comfy with, to be sure.
Six weeks or so ago, we had just the same conversation, and I despaired that he was a dead cert for borstal and the local chapter of Satan's Slaves, but he came back from the Grow and we resumed our normal config. It was a week or two of butting heads and never feeling like I was doing the right thing, because he was telling me that I wasn't. Constantly. But, like I say, one day he was just lovely all day again, and I realised his jeans legs only needed to be rolled up once.
As for the strong opinions, to be honest, I enjoy them. As much as I love the cuddles and stories at bedtime, the snuggling in front of telly and all, I revel in him giving me stick about my infractions of our rules, or what he thinks is right or wrong with his universe.
I'll leave the box in another prominent spot and see if he complains about it in the morning ...