Return of the not so phantom menace.

What an odd week. After months of fairly consistently good behaviour 13 has been such a rascal this week.

We had the saga on Tuesday of the child who wouldn’t come home.

Then it appears that yesterday she wouldn’t get OFF the bus when she got to school. Stroppy doesn’t begin to describe her some days. Yes, I know, she is 13, a hormonal teenager and if ever there was tautology “hormonal” and “teenager” is it.

We have had smiles, tears and truculence. I suppose she is her mother’s daughter.

This is the thing with special needs, at least in my experience. You get some of the regular behaviour, just the sort of thing you would expect from any child or young person of that age PLUS all the added extras of their particular set of needs.

If most teenagers are hard to persuade, trust me, I have already had three of them, I KNOW they are, then one with added extras really does take the cake.

Let’s see if next week is any better.

In other news but related to cake, 17 baked today. It’s not all negative, or AT all negative, having teenagers.

Butterflies, to take to her final art class before exams begin. The smell was delicious.

I am afraid I gave in to temptation and ate a wing. 17 had to carry out mandatory quality control before taking the cakes to class and of course, final say on suitability couldn’t be left to chance. Now, could it?

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