Being a Mother

Bear had a massive fall in the playground at lunchtime and came home with dented knees and a cracking bump on his head.  However I suspect the hour and a half I have just spent with bear in the bathroom as he threatens to be sick is more to do with him chugging down a glass of milkshake at top speed.  Milkshake was always guaranteed to make me queasy when I was his age, and until he had the milkshake he was racing around and full of life, so I am not too worried about concussion.  It seems to be settling down.  I am keeping everything crossed.

However if bear is sick then he can't go to school tomorrow and if he can't go to school then I can't go to the meeting at the hospital about uncle's discharge.  I am feeling a bit stressed about the whole package, as there doesn't seem to be any clue, I haven't been able to get hold of the social worker in two days of trying and all the guidance I have seen on the internet seems geared to getting uncle back in his own home.  I am not sure it would work - in fact I am sure it wouldn't.  It would be a lot cheaper for the powers that be, however, and I think if uncle could possibly swing it he would go home if he could get someone to move in with him.  He has suggested several times that DH give up his job and we all move into his small, two bedroomed bungalow, but I haven't gone with that.

I suspect I am worrying about nothing, and as bear has obligingly shown me how short his school shirts are getting on him I think I will distract myself with some 'window' shopping.  That's a set of trousers, shirts, probably vests and I wonder how long I will be able to eke out his sweaters.  I can look all over the net for those.  That will be a lot less stressful than worrying about uncle's discharge meeting and how well bear will be tomorrow.

Bear has had lots of cuddles, lots of fuss and is now wrapped in a blanket and watching a YouTube video about a nerf gun.  He is picking up.