Summertime, And The Living Is Fleasy

It is summertime and the cats have developed a problem (or three thousand). We have fleas in the house.

Maia's soft, milkywhite skin is much beloved by these little critters and she comes hopping up yelping " A filly mummy, a FILLY!"

We have zapped the cats and hoovered the carpets to within an inch of their lives. Not in time, however, to prevent a few bites.

Which got noticed at school.

Nearly as embarrassing as admitting that the name of our ex-cat was, indeed, Manky Cat, was having to explain to Mrs Hunt that those little red bumps were neither chicken-pox nor measles, but flea bites. Ho hum.

A Very Special Offer

Mum is back from Nassau for 3 months. On her first day back, we went together to pick up Maia. Maia was so excited, she bounced. When she was strapped into her seat and she couldn't bounce, she SHOUTED.

After she had established that there WERE presents for her, and told Noonah about her day, there was a brief pause. Maia rode it out, clearly thinking of things to say...

"Now, Noonah." she said, clasping her hands together, with a twinkle in her baby blues, "Would you like to see my Winnie the Pooh underpants?"

Apologies All

So much to tell you, so little time!

I have many stories stored up in draft form, just waiting for a spark from me to set them alight. I will get them up this week (ish), so do keep checking back..

also, stories will appear before ones you might have already read, so scroll down a bit. :D

Two for Four

Maia has an incredibly active social life - way busier than ours. First weekend in June and she had two back to back fourth birthday parties. Paris Hilton, eat your heart out...

Amelia's first (12.30pm - 2.30pm). Pat "volunteered" to handle that one, and then drop Maia at The Polish Club for George's party afterwards. He reported back that she didn't eat too much sugar and ran around a lot. At least, that is what I think he said, in the blur that was him racing into George's party, depositing child and running back out again. Whilst trembling a little.

At George's party (3pm-5pm) there were about 20 three and four year olds, plus a couple of littler ones running around in between. It was loud and frantic and punctuated by the sound of popping balloons.

Hannah, who was up for the weekend, was introduced to the etiquette of food at kids parties:

1. You can't eat anything from the table until it is on your child's plate.

2. Until they have finished, the only appropriate eating is "demonstration" eating "Oooh, look, this sandwich is really tasty" usually performed as they are eyeing up the crisps and sweeties.

3. Once your child has finished (or more likely moved onto cakes and/or running around) you can eat the sandwiches and savouries. However, please note this is only if you have made appropriate comments re: not having had lunch because you were too busy, or that you know you shouldn't, but "there is just something about kids food"

4. When the kids leave the table, all remaining food is free to whoever has the appetite for it, and the balls to be the first to start unrestrained munching.

5. A word of warning...If there are any cakes left, check that they haven't been chewed and/or licked. Those buns could have been iced earlier in the day...

Anyway, they spent a good couple of hours haring about like loonies and loving every minute of it. A game of Pass-the-Parcel and Musical Chairs produced prizes of noise-makers and sweeties respectively, so the last hour was pretty full-on.

Come Going Home Time, Maia was pretty zinged and zonked at the same time. We pottered back in time for bath and bed with Daddy, and then Hannah and I ventured out for sushi and then drinks. With not a sugar-crazed anklebiter in sight.