This week the eldest has gone on International Guide Camp.  There are 800 Guides there from all over the world – their field has girls from Denmark, Hong Kong and Australia  and the location of this exotic camp – is 2 miles up the road!!  This is actually a great plan (mostly for the husband – who would be even more stressed if she was in another country) for her first trip away – and the fact that she’s with her lovely Guide pack friends – and that the leaders are 2 Mums from the village that I know and trust – means all in all, it’s fine.  Honestly….

 

But….

It just feels weird with one of us missing and there ‘only’ being 5 of us.

Admittedly the bickering is loads less (she and her brother know exactly which buttons to press to wind each other up) but she’s my right hand woman.  She is BRILLIANT with her little sisters, and helps me so much with them.  I also keep seeing things (loom band models on Facebook, news stories about One Direction) that I want to share with her – and I can’t.  I can’t even text her or email her as it was a strict NO PHONES rule.  She’s now 11 and spending time with her is (mostly!) a joy.  Going shopping with just her is now a fun trip (throw in the other 3 and it all gets a bit stressful still!) and I really enjoy her company.

Yes – we still have our moments:

Getting her to wash her hair and music practice being the key areas for ‘discussion’.  Recently I was helping her with her aural for her Grade 2 piano exam.  One section involves identifying whether a piece of music is in 2 or 3 time – so basically a march or a waltz.  She watches Strictly – surely she should be able to hear this?  But seemingly not.  It all got a bit heated and I ranted ‘SURELY YOU CAN HEAR IT’S A F*CKING MARCH’ – which pretty much sums up why despite having my Grade 8 I have never been a piano teacher………

But most of the time I am super proud of my kind, caring, beautiful, clever, thoughtful, talented (she did pass the piano exam!) and loving first born.

Thankfully the no phones means she can’t read this and be mortified!!

Every night at bedtime the 4 year old asks ‘How many sleeps until we can get Daisy back?’ – and I think we all feel the same.  Roll on Saturday morning when we can pick her up (and no doubt by Saturday lunchtime I’ll have moaned at her at least once – so will need to re read this post!!)