Dashed promises

It seems I write something down - and then go straight ahead and betray my good intentions. A month ago I wrote that I wasn't eating another slice of cake or a biscuit or anything bad until I'd shed an inch of baby fat. But give the girl a weekend (or just a night) in an RV and within hours I was cooking and eating banana bread as if I was both chef and taster on a bakery production line. Then I made a yoga mat bag and vowed a lifetime's commitment to Bikram. So, have I stepped foot in that 105 degree studio since? Hell no! Next I say I'll write this blog more often and can I think of anything to tell you? It's raining. I'm uninspired, OK?
I'm trying to think whether or not I've been breaking promises to Max. We did go to the Discovery Museum yesterday, we have had picnic lunches all this week (admittedly on the kitchen floor rather than in the garden but that's down to the rain which I made no promises on). I have a feeling though that if asked, Max might tell you a different story - and it would probably involve the Wonderpets DBD. But I've been totally honest with him - he got his mitts on it and it's scratched. That's why his favourite hedgehog episode skips from start to finish in about 4 seconds. I'm sure he thinks it's my own form of DBD witchcraft. So I can let him have the Wonderpets, just not that episode. I try cleaning it and he rushes over to look. 'Has it got mitts on it?' he asks sadly. I confirm the diagnosis. I think that's how I got myself into the promise about going to the Discovery Museum. I usually love the place but as mentioned I'm feeling uninspired and when it's raining, it's usually teeming with weather-despairing parents and their pent up offspring. And it wasn't our best trip - sharing at the train table is always a little problematic and this time Max got territorial about the crabs in the crab net too. But an older kid came along and there was an interlude where they played nicely on the fishing boat together. Inexplicably to most (although I don't think anyone but Max and his friend could hear) I imitated the shipping forecast over the ship's radio - Dogger, Fisher. North East 4. 1002 Rising Slowly. Forties, Cromarty, Rain then showers, Moderate to Good. Other than that, most of the exhibits Max likes are outside and it was pouring with rain. To top it off we found ourselves trapped in the outside loos in a hail storm. We were the only ones in there. I opened the door to reassure Max about the noise. 'The good thing about hail storms...' I said, without really knowing where my sentence was going '...is that they are very short.' And luckily I wasn't too far wrong. It was the biggest hail I've seen - the size of my finger nails. 'Can we feed it to the penguins?' Max asked. I wasn't sure what he was talking about but there was a statue of a seal, so we fed some to him instead. The whole feeding thing got Max thinking about his own tummy. 'Can I have some snacks, Mummy?' Here was my ticket out. 'Banana bread?' I offered 'We have lots of that at home - Lets go!'