Maia, Pat, Cleone and I were in the car going to the beach, when Maia started talking about what she wanted to be when she grew up.
Thankfully, my constant chatter about how princesses-have-to-have-Other-Jobs seems to have sunk in a little bit.
She now wants to be an Ice Cream Maker.
As well as a Doctor, a Singer and a Dancer. And, of course, a Princess.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Getting on Swimmingly
Maia, Tristan and Teaghan loved it when Pat joined them in the pool at Patrick Snr's house. They jumped on him with glee, trying to dunk him under. He, in turn, roared with comedy monster vigour and threw them about like dolls.
Maia, because she doesn't swim as well as the others, clambered less, and was therefore thrown around less. Her role evolved into a kind of little monster cheerleader. She would float next to the chaos of yelps and roars and flying children and holler
"Come on people, KEEP HIM DOWN!"
Maia, because she doesn't swim as well as the others, clambered less, and was therefore thrown around less. Her role evolved into a kind of little monster cheerleader. She would float next to the chaos of yelps and roars and flying children and holler
"Come on people, KEEP HIM DOWN!"
I Am No Longer Bitter About Barbie
Ha HA! Common sense seems to have reared her pretty little head in Maia’s dealings with her Barbie Doll. Either that, or there really is such a thing as natural justice.
Having finally got a Barbie Doll for her 4th Birthday (oddly enough, not from us) Maia has been toting her about, brushing her hair, having tea parties and generally playing with her in a way that differs very little from the ascribed Barbie Doll role.
Part of the reason I don’t particularly like toys that have very clear characters already set for kids is that I think it limits their imagination. This is magnified an hundred-fold when those characters have clearly defined and rigid gender-roles.
Barbie is Barbie, and you brush her hair and make her look pretty, rather than use her in an adventure to, say, go pirating. Pirate Barbie has yet to hit the shelves – and given the kind of things that have (Mermaid Princess Barbie and Ballet Dancer Barbie and Secretary Barbie) I wonder if she ever will. Bet Pirate Barbie's outfit would kick ass, though...
Anyway, Maia seems to be breaking free of the “Barbie must always look pretty” tyranny.
With this new knowledge, I hope, comes an awareness (a pretty big jump coming up, watch for it) that she doesn’t need to conform to set gender roles in her imaginative play. Which, if you ask me, is only one step away from believing she can be Prime Minister/President/Rock star/whatever she wants when she grows up.
Anyway, back to Maia Breaking Free of The Tyranny that is the Prettiness of Barbie …How do I know?
Well, last week, I came across Maia toting Barbie by the hair. The Anorexic Plastic One was dressed in combat gear, courtesy of Toot and Puddle, and Maia was force-feeding her taramasalata.
That’s my gal.
And when you are President, I have one request. One full size Pirate Barbie outfit please…
Having finally got a Barbie Doll for her 4th Birthday (oddly enough, not from us) Maia has been toting her about, brushing her hair, having tea parties and generally playing with her in a way that differs very little from the ascribed Barbie Doll role.
Part of the reason I don’t particularly like toys that have very clear characters already set for kids is that I think it limits their imagination. This is magnified an hundred-fold when those characters have clearly defined and rigid gender-roles.
Barbie is Barbie, and you brush her hair and make her look pretty, rather than use her in an adventure to, say, go pirating. Pirate Barbie has yet to hit the shelves – and given the kind of things that have (Mermaid Princess Barbie and Ballet Dancer Barbie and Secretary Barbie) I wonder if she ever will. Bet Pirate Barbie's outfit would kick ass, though...
Anyway, Maia seems to be breaking free of the “Barbie must always look pretty” tyranny.
With this new knowledge, I hope, comes an awareness (a pretty big jump coming up, watch for it) that she doesn’t need to conform to set gender roles in her imaginative play. Which, if you ask me, is only one step away from believing she can be Prime Minister/President/Rock star/whatever she wants when she grows up.
Anyway, back to Maia Breaking Free of The Tyranny that is the Prettiness of Barbie …How do I know?
Well, last week, I came across Maia toting Barbie by the hair. The Anorexic Plastic One was dressed in combat gear, courtesy of Toot and Puddle, and Maia was force-feeding her taramasalata.
That’s my gal.
And when you are President, I have one request. One full size Pirate Barbie outfit please…
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Here Come the Clowns, There Goes Maia
Ladies and Gentlemen, MMJ has a phobia.
Maia is terrified of Clowns. We discovered this at the weekend, when we had two birthday parties to attend. The first was for Olivia, and was held in a Church Hall.
Andy the Clown, a pretty inoffensive example of Clowns That Entertain Children (or should that be ironic-hand-quotation-marks "Entertain"?) was doing his shouty, bewigged thing on the stage.
Maia took one look and went and hid in the coats. Not as in "oooh, look at me, I am being funny" hiding, either. Proper "I am NOT going in there" hiding.
Took us 15 minutes of sitting by the coats to get to the door and it was another 20 before she left my side. She started to warm up to him when his wig slipped a little and she could see that the red shaggy look he was sporting wasn't his real hair (even though I had been telling her that, she obviously needed to see it for herself). Then she watched the magic show and was ok with him. That is, until he brought out a trick that involved pictures of other clowns. Then she was off again.
It was really unsettling to see Maia like that - she has always been so independent. I have never spent the first part of a party with her clinging to my legs.
Then again, clowns are pretty scary. It is not like she is scared of something completely innocuous like postmen, or leaves, or supermarket trolleys.
If you ask me, it is perfectly reasonable to be wary of clowns. If only because they ain't funny.
Maia is terrified of Clowns. We discovered this at the weekend, when we had two birthday parties to attend. The first was for Olivia, and was held in a Church Hall.
Andy the Clown, a pretty inoffensive example of Clowns That Entertain Children (or should that be ironic-hand-quotation-marks "Entertain"?) was doing his shouty, bewigged thing on the stage.
Maia took one look and went and hid in the coats. Not as in "oooh, look at me, I am being funny" hiding, either. Proper "I am NOT going in there" hiding.
Took us 15 minutes of sitting by the coats to get to the door and it was another 20 before she left my side. She started to warm up to him when his wig slipped a little and she could see that the red shaggy look he was sporting wasn't his real hair (even though I had been telling her that, she obviously needed to see it for herself). Then she watched the magic show and was ok with him. That is, until he brought out a trick that involved pictures of other clowns. Then she was off again.
It was really unsettling to see Maia like that - she has always been so independent. I have never spent the first part of a party with her clinging to my legs.
Then again, clowns are pretty scary. It is not like she is scared of something completely innocuous like postmen, or leaves, or supermarket trolleys.
If you ask me, it is perfectly reasonable to be wary of clowns. If only because they ain't funny.
Noonah writes "Baby sitting - just who is in charge here?"
One evening last week, Erica and Pat set off for a Maia-free evening, leaving me in charge at home. Maia, however, had other ideas.
She said goodbye to Mummy and Daddy at the front door and waved and blew kisses until they were safely in the car. Then she firmly shut the door, looked me straight in the eye and said, in a very determined tone, "Now we can have a feast in the dark."
Somewhat taken aback, I burbled "Feast in the dark? But we've had supper..."
It was definitely bath-and-bed time. It soon became very clear that I was not going to get away with hurrying her upstairs for ablutions and slumber right away. So, since grandmas are allowed to spoil a little out of sight of the parents, we set off to the kitchen to prepare for a Feast in the Dark.
Maia announced that she wanted Food. What food? "Feast Food" she replied in a manner which left me in no doubt that she had suddenly realised she was dealing with a complete idiot. So, under Maia's direction, we collected Feast Food - sliced bananas, sliced oranges, small squares of marmite on toast, milk and a glass of water each.
We took our Feast Food into the front room and turned out all the lights and sat in front of the fire and ate our feast.
Damn but the kid has some great ideas!
She said goodbye to Mummy and Daddy at the front door and waved and blew kisses until they were safely in the car. Then she firmly shut the door, looked me straight in the eye and said, in a very determined tone, "Now we can have a feast in the dark."
Somewhat taken aback, I burbled "Feast in the dark? But we've had supper..."
It was definitely bath-and-bed time. It soon became very clear that I was not going to get away with hurrying her upstairs for ablutions and slumber right away. So, since grandmas are allowed to spoil a little out of sight of the parents, we set off to the kitchen to prepare for a Feast in the Dark.
Maia announced that she wanted Food. What food? "Feast Food" she replied in a manner which left me in no doubt that she had suddenly realised she was dealing with a complete idiot. So, under Maia's direction, we collected Feast Food - sliced bananas, sliced oranges, small squares of marmite on toast, milk and a glass of water each.
We took our Feast Food into the front room and turned out all the lights and sat in front of the fire and ate our feast.
Damn but the kid has some great ideas!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Fireworks Night
The view from out the back of our house is great. Sheffield, like Rome (and erm, Prague and lots of other place) is built on seven hills. We look out over a lot of them. Can't be arsed to count how many as I am always distracted by looking at the clouds, or marvelling that we are pretty much in the city centre and yet it is so green. Anyway...
Bonfire Night, we went to Isabel Berginty's house for food and drink and fireworks and all had a lovely time. Paula and I got ever so slightly freaked out tho, as the kids played really well upstairs, and came downstairs all in their own clothes. Very rare and notable occasion. Hence my noting it.
Anyway, we got back home to see that our position on top of hill number 1 was affording us a great view of everyone else's fireworks, all for free! Also got a (destruction-free) sense of what it might be like to live in an active warzone - explosions going off all around, and the smell of cordite hanging heavy in the air.
Maia and I sat upstairs in the back bedroom with the lights off, oohing and aaaahing at the pretty sparkles. Pat came in for a bit but then, deciding that fireworks are like flying a kite for him (fun idea, boring in practice) left us to it.
We agreed that our most favourists were the "'splodey ones with dust" followed by the ones that were pink and purple. A sparkling night...
Bonfire Night, we went to Isabel Berginty's house for food and drink and fireworks and all had a lovely time. Paula and I got ever so slightly freaked out tho, as the kids played really well upstairs, and came downstairs all in their own clothes. Very rare and notable occasion. Hence my noting it.
Anyway, we got back home to see that our position on top of hill number 1 was affording us a great view of everyone else's fireworks, all for free! Also got a (destruction-free) sense of what it might be like to live in an active warzone - explosions going off all around, and the smell of cordite hanging heavy in the air.
Maia and I sat upstairs in the back bedroom with the lights off, oohing and aaaahing at the pretty sparkles. Pat came in for a bit but then, deciding that fireworks are like flying a kite for him (fun idea, boring in practice) left us to it.
We agreed that our most favourists were the "'splodey ones with dust" followed by the ones that were pink and purple. A sparkling night...
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Bangfires and Skelingtons
Maia was invited to go trick or treating round at Isabel Berginty's house yesterday. There was a little gang...George "I am not George, I am a monster!", Isabel, who was a bat/spidergirl/witch, David (Isabel's younger brother) who was a batmonster, and Maia, who went as a pink and red witchfairy.
They were all doing fine, going from house to house and stocking up on sugary booty until...some overly enthusiastic 10 year olds jumped out at them. They had been lying face down on the pavement, and when the group approached, they jumped up and revealed their scary skeleton fronts to the group of, now terrified, 4 year olds.
The little 'uns got a bit jumpy after that, and soon after retreated to Isabel's house for bread and soup and a VAST amount of sugar.
On the way home, a little sugar crazed, Maia stated very firmly that she didn't like the bangfires and skelingtons. We assured her that there wouldn't be any more until next year.
They were all doing fine, going from house to house and stocking up on sugary booty until...some overly enthusiastic 10 year olds jumped out at them. They had been lying face down on the pavement, and when the group approached, they jumped up and revealed their scary skeleton fronts to the group of, now terrified, 4 year olds.
The little 'uns got a bit jumpy after that, and soon after retreated to Isabel's house for bread and soup and a VAST amount of sugar.
On the way home, a little sugar crazed, Maia stated very firmly that she didn't like the bangfires and skelingtons. We assured her that there wouldn't be any more until next year.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Maia's Magnificent Mischief
Maia and Miss Isabel Verginty had a playdate here on Sunday. They got up to some extraordinary mischief, and had a really good time.
They are at an age where they don't want to be supervised and this creates a trade-off. On the plus-side, a playdate now means being in the house with them as they play. You can even get on with Other Stuff. When they were younger, it was a much more involved process, with stories and painting and baking. Truly exhausting. On the minus side, they get up to some seriously mischievous stuff.
The bestest and most mischievous incident this week involved umbrellas, a bottle of water and a nice big space. In the living room. They were playing Rain. On the carpet.
When I yelped at them that it was raining outside and they could go outside and play with umbrellas, they said they didn't want to. They might get wet. Grrrrr.
The day was filled with giggles and mysterious stomping and thumping and crashbangs - all of which were non-harmful and enjoyable for all but moi, as I hared upstairs each time to see if anything (limbs, chunks of wall) was missing/damaged/ruined.
They wolfed down mountains of baked potato with beans peas 'n' cheese followed by white icecream with pink sauce (homemade stewed fruit, dontcha know.)
Maia is all set to go to Isabel's house on Friday afternoon for a return play. I will warn Paula to expect pleasant havoc.
They are at an age where they don't want to be supervised and this creates a trade-off. On the plus-side, a playdate now means being in the house with them as they play. You can even get on with Other Stuff. When they were younger, it was a much more involved process, with stories and painting and baking. Truly exhausting. On the minus side, they get up to some seriously mischievous stuff.
The bestest and most mischievous incident this week involved umbrellas, a bottle of water and a nice big space. In the living room. They were playing Rain. On the carpet.
When I yelped at them that it was raining outside and they could go outside and play with umbrellas, they said they didn't want to. They might get wet. Grrrrr.
The day was filled with giggles and mysterious stomping and thumping and crashbangs - all of which were non-harmful and enjoyable for all but moi, as I hared upstairs each time to see if anything (limbs, chunks of wall) was missing/damaged/ruined.
They wolfed down mountains of baked potato with beans peas 'n' cheese followed by white icecream with pink sauce (homemade stewed fruit, dontcha know.)
Maia is all set to go to Isabel's house on Friday afternoon for a return play. I will warn Paula to expect pleasant havoc.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Frog's Legs and Talking Jamaican
Pat was 38 this week (Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday TO YOOOOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEEEEEAR DAAAAAAAAAAAAAADY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOOOOOU...early. Very early.)
Maia and I wrapped Pat's presents after school, and decided that we would hide them and play a game of Hot and Cold with Daddy so he could find them. On the phone to Pat about 20 minutes before he came home, she was cheerfully explaining the plan, when Pat asked her if she knew what his presents were. "Yes", she said, "A jumper...and a .."
I jumped in and rescued some mystery from the situation through my giggles. It is a low down dirty trick, is you ask me, to ask a 4 year old to spill the beans...
Anyway, he came home to find A Very Excited Maia. A Very Excited Maia who promptly ran towards the (hidden) presents, shouting "Hot Hot Hot!" Once there, she said "Daddy, I am going to help you open them" and proceeded to not let HIM help at all.
Presents opened and admired and thank yous said, we went out for a meal at Froggies Bistro on London Road. A tres chic little cafe-style French restaurant, Froggies was a bit deserted at 6.15, when we wandered in. It was somewhat lacking in atmosphere even though we were there. Maia did her bit to fill the place with sound and movement.
Maia was very adventurous with her food. She tried:
frog's legs ("Quite nice. Is this the bit that bounces?" "Ummm, not any more...")
baby mushrooms
red pepper
poppy seed bread
salt cod croquettes
veggies with toasted onion seeds and
cassis sorbet
She also tried some of my steak. Now, she goes to a nursery that serves vegetarian meals. We rarely have red meat in the house (though I will order it when I go out) so she is not a huge fan. She will sit and chomp through a stack of biltong with her daddy, I don't think she counts that somehow...
So I chopped her a tiny bit of my steak, said it was like squishy biltong and urged her try a bit.
She pulled a funny face, stuck her fingers out and to the sides and said, in a pitch perfect Jamaican accent, " Ah dooon't laack steeak"
New catchphrase. Although goodness knows where it came from. Even my Jamaican accent isn't that good.
Maia and I wrapped Pat's presents after school, and decided that we would hide them and play a game of Hot and Cold with Daddy so he could find them. On the phone to Pat about 20 minutes before he came home, she was cheerfully explaining the plan, when Pat asked her if she knew what his presents were. "Yes", she said, "A jumper...and a .."
I jumped in and rescued some mystery from the situation through my giggles. It is a low down dirty trick, is you ask me, to ask a 4 year old to spill the beans...
Anyway, he came home to find A Very Excited Maia. A Very Excited Maia who promptly ran towards the (hidden) presents, shouting "Hot Hot Hot!" Once there, she said "Daddy, I am going to help you open them" and proceeded to not let HIM help at all.
Presents opened and admired and thank yous said, we went out for a meal at Froggies Bistro on London Road. A tres chic little cafe-style French restaurant, Froggies was a bit deserted at 6.15, when we wandered in. It was somewhat lacking in atmosphere even though we were there. Maia did her bit to fill the place with sound and movement.
Maia was very adventurous with her food. She tried:
frog's legs ("Quite nice. Is this the bit that bounces?" "Ummm, not any more...")
baby mushrooms
red pepper
poppy seed bread
salt cod croquettes
veggies with toasted onion seeds and
cassis sorbet
She also tried some of my steak. Now, she goes to a nursery that serves vegetarian meals. We rarely have red meat in the house (though I will order it when I go out) so she is not a huge fan. She will sit and chomp through a stack of biltong with her daddy, I don't think she counts that somehow...
So I chopped her a tiny bit of my steak, said it was like squishy biltong and urged her try a bit.
She pulled a funny face, stuck her fingers out and to the sides and said, in a pitch perfect Jamaican accent, " Ah dooon't laack steeak"
New catchphrase. Although goodness knows where it came from. Even my Jamaican accent isn't that good.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Steeeeeeeeeeve!
Boy, this girl likes having visitors. Steve arrived last night for dinner and Maia was so excited, she rushed about saying "Steve is here! Steve is here!!" all the while jumping up and down like she was attached to a spring.
Part of her excitement was due to the fact that, last time Steve came over, Maia persuaded him to read her a bedtime story. Not only that, but she got him to read one of the ones that Mummy and Daddy tend to try and hide because they are either: Too Long or A Bit Dull or Too Princessy or Don't Rhyme Properly.
Steve, being a Story Reading Novice, didn't know how to extricate himself from the rubbish books. Then again, we bought them, so they must be OK on first reading. And Maia likes them...
Part of her excitement was due to the fact that, last time Steve came over, Maia persuaded him to read her a bedtime story. Not only that, but she got him to read one of the ones that Mummy and Daddy tend to try and hide because they are either: Too Long or A Bit Dull or Too Princessy or Don't Rhyme Properly.
Steve, being a Story Reading Novice, didn't know how to extricate himself from the rubbish books. Then again, we bought them, so they must be OK on first reading. And Maia likes them...
Fun Evening? Not So Much...
OK, am beginning to see just how different it must be if you have a kid and don't work from home. I have had an avalanche of work. Most of it is with the States, so I have been working a full day (mostly on my company stuff) then picking up Maia and sharing dinnerbathbed duties with Pat, and then going back to work till late.
Now, if I wasn't working from The Garage, and my journey to work took more than 20 seconds, I would never see her.
I mean, NEVER. The night before last (when Maia and I had all these great plans for a fun evening) we had a surprise dinner guest. So, straight after school, we had to go food shopping. I had been planning a Cereal for Dinner Day, and that is strictly family only. Then the latter part of Maia's day was spent watching me cook and listening to Pat play music downstairs. I think she had fun, but I felt rotten. No part at all was spent colouring, playing, looking at guinea pigs and enjoying each other's company. And she didn't even get fish fingers, because we were all out. Ugh.
Have got her from 1pm today though, so we are going to have a run about in the park with George and have tea with Isabel, George and possibly Sofia. Then it is the weekend, so should get some good stuff in there... And I am going to go stock up on fish fingers.
Now, if I wasn't working from The Garage, and my journey to work took more than 20 seconds, I would never see her.
I mean, NEVER. The night before last (when Maia and I had all these great plans for a fun evening) we had a surprise dinner guest. So, straight after school, we had to go food shopping. I had been planning a Cereal for Dinner Day, and that is strictly family only. Then the latter part of Maia's day was spent watching me cook and listening to Pat play music downstairs. I think she had fun, but I felt rotten. No part at all was spent colouring, playing, looking at guinea pigs and enjoying each other's company. And she didn't even get fish fingers, because we were all out. Ugh.
Have got her from 1pm today though, so we are going to have a run about in the park with George and have tea with Isabel, George and possibly Sofia. Then it is the weekend, so should get some good stuff in there... And I am going to go stock up on fish fingers.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Maia's Plan for a Fun Evening
Yesterday was a bit crazy, what with work, dinner and Pat and I talking about grown-up stuff.
Maia was playing by herself for a bit. She does not do this terribly well. She has never been one of these kids that finds themselves a little corner to go and play with trains or dolls or anything. If she retreats to a corner, it is usually to rehearse for her next "Watch me, Mummy, I am going to do a Show!" And we have only just got her to retreat for that - we used to be treated to the whole shebang - rehearsal, show and encore. All at top volume.
We talked about her day at storytime and she said that she had not had a very fun day. We agreed that we would try and make tomorrow better. How were we going to do that? Well...
Tomorrow, she said, she wanted to play with me after school, instead of being on her own. Now, I am a people person too, so I know exactly where she was coming from.
Her plan for today is that we:
Come home from school
Play in the garden
Bounce on her trampoline
Watch the guinea pigs in their outside home
Come inside and do some colouring
Have some dinner (fish fingers and peas and beans, please)
watch a little bit of tv (Scooby Doo is best, if not, then SpongeBob Squarepants would do)
have a bath
go to bed and have stories.
Sounds like a good evening plan to me. Will let you know how we get on.
Maia was playing by herself for a bit. She does not do this terribly well. She has never been one of these kids that finds themselves a little corner to go and play with trains or dolls or anything. If she retreats to a corner, it is usually to rehearse for her next "Watch me, Mummy, I am going to do a Show!" And we have only just got her to retreat for that - we used to be treated to the whole shebang - rehearsal, show and encore. All at top volume.
We talked about her day at storytime and she said that she had not had a very fun day. We agreed that we would try and make tomorrow better. How were we going to do that? Well...
Tomorrow, she said, she wanted to play with me after school, instead of being on her own. Now, I am a people person too, so I know exactly where she was coming from.
Her plan for today is that we:
Come home from school
Play in the garden
Bounce on her trampoline
Watch the guinea pigs in their outside home
Come inside and do some colouring
Have some dinner (fish fingers and peas and beans, please)
watch a little bit of tv (Scooby Doo is best, if not, then SpongeBob Squarepants would do)
have a bath
go to bed and have stories.
Sounds like a good evening plan to me. Will let you know how we get on.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Catherine F's wedding
A couple of weeks ago, we went to a wedding reception in East Sussex for my friend Catherine Fisher and her new husband Mick. Maia was a superstar. She was so excited about camping that she didn't really complain about the long trip down there.
When we got there (after a bit of a diversion to get lost) Maia settled into the serious business of Making Friends. There were a load of space hoppers in the field by the marquee and Maia bounced her way into a few groups of kids and adults to say hello.
Later on, after dinner and speeches (and a rather amusing episode with an insistent Maia, a box of confetti and the bride who was eating her pudding) she and I were bopping on the dance floor. I had her high on my shoulders to see exactly what was going on, and three (3) separate groups of people, whom I had not met, said "Hi Maia, how you doing?"
She replied "Good! My mummy and I are dancing!" When I asked Miss Maia who these people were, she said "People I met. They like me."
What a superstar.
We spent the morning after the night before picking sloes to make homemade sloe gin. Have to say, she is better at making friends than fruit-picking...
When we got there (after a bit of a diversion to get lost) Maia settled into the serious business of Making Friends. There were a load of space hoppers in the field by the marquee and Maia bounced her way into a few groups of kids and adults to say hello.
Later on, after dinner and speeches (and a rather amusing episode with an insistent Maia, a box of confetti and the bride who was eating her pudding) she and I were bopping on the dance floor. I had her high on my shoulders to see exactly what was going on, and three (3) separate groups of people, whom I had not met, said "Hi Maia, how you doing?"
She replied "Good! My mummy and I are dancing!" When I asked Miss Maia who these people were, she said "People I met. They like me."
What a superstar.
We spent the morning after the night before picking sloes to make homemade sloe gin. Have to say, she is better at making friends than fruit-picking...
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Getting Uno Up On Pairs
We have graduated from Pairs/Flip-Flop to Uno.
Proud/Boasting Mummy Moment coming up...
Uno is a moderately complicated card game that involves matching numbers or colours and playing a variety of Action Cards. It says on the packet that it is for ages 7+. But Maia has got it. She can play really quite well.
We play open (cards on the table) so she gets help/we make sure she doesn't cheat. Also, she has trouble holding all 7 cards in her hand at once.
Maybe that is why they say it is for ages 7+. Hand size...
Actually, no...I am going to take it that she is massively advanced and super-bright. Obviously.
:D
Proud/Boasting Mummy Moment coming up...
Uno is a moderately complicated card game that involves matching numbers or colours and playing a variety of Action Cards. It says on the packet that it is for ages 7+. But Maia has got it. She can play really quite well.
We play open (cards on the table) so she gets help/we make sure she doesn't cheat. Also, she has trouble holding all 7 cards in her hand at once.
Maybe that is why they say it is for ages 7+. Hand size...
Actually, no...I am going to take it that she is massively advanced and super-bright. Obviously.
:D
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Card Sharp as a Tack
Maia is a card sharp.
We have a (somewhat reduced) deck of Charlie and Lola cards that Maia likes to play the memory games Pairs and Flip-Flop. In each, you lay out the cards face down and flip over two to see if you have a pair (if they match) or a flip-flop (if there is a connection between the cards...ie. cereal and bananas, bird and nest). She is a FIEND at this game. Her phenomenal memory means she regularly beats me, and I stopped letting her win ages ago.
She is also getting pretty well acquainted with the concept of Bending The Rules To Suit. If you are doing well at a game of Pairs, and she turns over a flip-flop winning pair, she claims that. Then has another go.
However, if, later on, you turn over a flip-flop, she claims to be playing Pairs, and won't let you go again. Grrr. What may be cute now is going to get her beaten up later in life, so I have started to explain the benefits of Playing By The Rules. She is not yet convinced.
Mum and Maia moved on to Real Cards the other day, and she is pretty good at those too. They were naming the suits, and she remembered all of them apart from one. After a little think, she triumphantly announced the missing suit was called "buckets!"
And so it shall be from now on.
We have a (somewhat reduced) deck of Charlie and Lola cards that Maia likes to play the memory games Pairs and Flip-Flop. In each, you lay out the cards face down and flip over two to see if you have a pair (if they match) or a flip-flop (if there is a connection between the cards...ie. cereal and bananas, bird and nest). She is a FIEND at this game. Her phenomenal memory means she regularly beats me, and I stopped letting her win ages ago.
She is also getting pretty well acquainted with the concept of Bending The Rules To Suit. If you are doing well at a game of Pairs, and she turns over a flip-flop winning pair, she claims that. Then has another go.
However, if, later on, you turn over a flip-flop, she claims to be playing Pairs, and won't let you go again. Grrr. What may be cute now is going to get her beaten up later in life, so I have started to explain the benefits of Playing By The Rules. She is not yet convinced.
Mum and Maia moved on to Real Cards the other day, and she is pretty good at those too. They were naming the suits, and she remembered all of them apart from one. After a little think, she triumphantly announced the missing suit was called "buckets!"
And so it shall be from now on.
4. Four. FOUR!?!?!!
Bloody hell - I cannot believe it! Miss Maia Ani-jo Sunshine Packington-Cull is FOUR. (And a day. Bad Blogging Mummy)
It is so odd that four years ago, I didn't even know her. And now I can't imagine my life without her.
Happy Birthday, my most excellent girl.
It is so odd that four years ago, I didn't even know her. And now I can't imagine my life without her.
Happy Birthday, my most excellent girl.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Papi's Riposte/Re-Post
No, really...
This is all a rather pathetic and wimpish attempt to divert attention and sympathy away from the Real Right Thumb Disaster.
Which happened about the same time, to about the same anatomical region, and has not (yet) been cyber-broadcast!
You can picture, if you will, the scene...
H-overworked, h-underpaid, hassled and harried, hungry humble hemployee arrives home hexausted and (as is his wont) opens fridge and peers inside for snackables prior to dinner.
Spotting a likely quiche, he grabs quiche dish with right hand and attempts to transport it to kitchen counter with every intention of carving it into munchable slices while simultaneously pouring glass of red wine.
At which point said quiche dish shatters for no apparent reason (and yes we did buy it at Kelly's, if you must know).
Said quiche dish, being empty of quiche thumb-side and heavy with quicheness on opposite side, gravity then takes over and everything then starts heading south at a considerable rate of knots.
All that is, except for a portion of shattered porcelain, which tarries awhile en route to gouge huge chunks of thumb.
Dinner is no longer an immediate or viable prospect.
During 4 hours in ER and en route to 20 stitches I tried to enliven proceedings
"Are you allergic to anything?" said the nurse
"Only quiche dishes" said I.
Then I tried a real ancient one on the doctor...
"Will I be able to play the violin after this?" Answer...... "I don't see why not"
"Well, I'd better start taking lessons then"
Oh dear - you see what boredom does!
Anyhow.
Just for the record, I myself and me am not guilty of extreme klutz-ness in shutting my own digit in the doorjamb.
Ergo........I am a victim of circumstance and, as such, far more deserving of tender sympathy.
Posted by Papi
This is all a rather pathetic and wimpish attempt to divert attention and sympathy away from the Real Right Thumb Disaster.
Which happened about the same time, to about the same anatomical region, and has not (yet) been cyber-broadcast!
You can picture, if you will, the scene...
H-overworked, h-underpaid, hassled and harried, hungry humble hemployee arrives home hexausted and (as is his wont) opens fridge and peers inside for snackables prior to dinner.
Spotting a likely quiche, he grabs quiche dish with right hand and attempts to transport it to kitchen counter with every intention of carving it into munchable slices while simultaneously pouring glass of red wine.
At which point said quiche dish shatters for no apparent reason (and yes we did buy it at Kelly's, if you must know).
Said quiche dish, being empty of quiche thumb-side and heavy with quicheness on opposite side, gravity then takes over and everything then starts heading south at a considerable rate of knots.
All that is, except for a portion of shattered porcelain, which tarries awhile en route to gouge huge chunks of thumb.
Dinner is no longer an immediate or viable prospect.
During 4 hours in ER and en route to 20 stitches I tried to enliven proceedings
"Are you allergic to anything?" said the nurse
"Only quiche dishes" said I.
Then I tried a real ancient one on the doctor...
"Will I be able to play the violin after this?" Answer...... "I don't see why not"
"Well, I'd better start taking lessons then"
Oh dear - you see what boredom does!
Anyhow.
Just for the record, I myself and me am not guilty of extreme klutz-ness in shutting my own digit in the doorjamb.
Ergo........I am a victim of circumstance and, as such, far more deserving of tender sympathy.
Posted by Papi
Sunday, July 23, 2006
No Picnic
Paula, Olga and I joined forces and children and were off for a picnic in the countryside.
The kids were hot and ratty, and were sniping at each other the whole way there. And the way there seemed to get further and further away the more and more they ratted. Honestly, a 20 minute car ride in peace feels like moments, while in rattiness feels like forever.
Anyway, ignoring the ROAD CLOSED signs posted on the A57 added an extra frisson to the whole affair, so when I finally spotted the little dirt road that led to the track that led to the bridge that led to the sublime little picnic area by a stream, I was really relieved and excited. Out I hopped to open the gate and get us into the sunshine and fresh air, slamming the door to Paula's solid, Swedish engineered car with gusto.
There was a split-second where I glared at the offending thumb, recently yanked from between cardoor and car, when I thought it would be alright. Where I WILLED it to be alright. That was before the blood came.
"Ah" I said. "Slight problem, guys, I think we are going to have to turn around and get me to a hospital."
Three little faces turned towards me, taking a well-earned break from ratting at each other. I, quite calmly I thought under the circumstances, informed them all that I had hurt my thumb.
"It is OK, Mummy, we will go right home and run it under a cold tap. That is what you do when you hurt yourself."
Paula is a GP, who took one look at the thumb (nail Not Where It Should Be) and called the hospital. I decided to go with her advice instead.
Kids were bundled off to Olga's house to play in the yard, while I went and got hospitaled.
Ho hum. No picnic after all.
The kids were hot and ratty, and were sniping at each other the whole way there. And the way there seemed to get further and further away the more and more they ratted. Honestly, a 20 minute car ride in peace feels like moments, while in rattiness feels like forever.
Anyway, ignoring the ROAD CLOSED signs posted on the A57 added an extra frisson to the whole affair, so when I finally spotted the little dirt road that led to the track that led to the bridge that led to the sublime little picnic area by a stream, I was really relieved and excited. Out I hopped to open the gate and get us into the sunshine and fresh air, slamming the door to Paula's solid, Swedish engineered car with gusto.
There was a split-second where I glared at the offending thumb, recently yanked from between cardoor and car, when I thought it would be alright. Where I WILLED it to be alright. That was before the blood came.
"Ah" I said. "Slight problem, guys, I think we are going to have to turn around and get me to a hospital."
Three little faces turned towards me, taking a well-earned break from ratting at each other. I, quite calmly I thought under the circumstances, informed them all that I had hurt my thumb.
"It is OK, Mummy, we will go right home and run it under a cold tap. That is what you do when you hurt yourself."
Paula is a GP, who took one look at the thumb (nail Not Where It Should Be) and called the hospital. I decided to go with her advice instead.
Kids were bundled off to Olga's house to play in the yard, while I went and got hospitaled.
Ho hum. No picnic after all.
Going for a Tramp in the Woods
Ah, the idyllic English countryside...wooded paths, silken streams, a fabulous little playground tucked away in a lovely little park. And, look, there! A cafe, serving locally produced, delicious ice-creams. Yes, the English countryside comes alive in summer.
Which is more than can be said for the tramp passed out in the middle of the green when we sat to enjoy our aforementioned ice-creams.
Everyone was being hugely British and just Getting On With Enjoying The Sunshine, ignoring the somnambulent, rumpled pile of humanity in the middle of all this greenery.
In fact, what could be more British than two boys carrying on a hearty game of football around him? To be honest, it was a bit of a relief when the ball accidentally rolled (thwacked?) into the side of his head, as it meant he started to snore loudly. At least now we all knew for sure that he was alive.
The father of the boy who kicked the ball had a stern word with him (about how to ensure accuracy while kicking a football, and avoid...ummm...obstacles, I imagine) while trying to contain his giggles.
Eventually, up he got (lurching a bit). Off to find a more peaceful place to rest, I suppose. The collective guilt (over enjoying ice-cream when people don't have houses, over laughing when said people who don't have houses and sleep on the grass get gently thwacked in the head by a football, over the British trait of finding humour in every tragedy, not matter how large or small) was pushed back a bit, and we sat, more easily, in the sunshine.
Which is more than can be said for the tramp passed out in the middle of the green when we sat to enjoy our aforementioned ice-creams.
Everyone was being hugely British and just Getting On With Enjoying The Sunshine, ignoring the somnambulent, rumpled pile of humanity in the middle of all this greenery.
In fact, what could be more British than two boys carrying on a hearty game of football around him? To be honest, it was a bit of a relief when the ball accidentally rolled (thwacked?) into the side of his head, as it meant he started to snore loudly. At least now we all knew for sure that he was alive.
The father of the boy who kicked the ball had a stern word with him (about how to ensure accuracy while kicking a football, and avoid...ummm...obstacles, I imagine) while trying to contain his giggles.
Eventually, up he got (lurching a bit). Off to find a more peaceful place to rest, I suppose. The collective guilt (over enjoying ice-cream when people don't have houses, over laughing when said people who don't have houses and sleep on the grass get gently thwacked in the head by a football, over the British trait of finding humour in every tragedy, not matter how large or small) was pushed back a bit, and we sat, more easily, in the sunshine.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Maia-ciavellian
Last weekend, Sue, George, myself, Maia and Mum all went down to the Meersbrook Park Walled Garden, to have a nosy about (adults) and a run around (kids).
Maia and George were winding each other up a bit. George wouldn't let Maia win races, and Maia wouldn't let George sing the alphabet on his own. Seriously.
One exchange revealed the development of a scheming side to our Maia Miss M. She and George were running around, when she jokingly called him a "Silly Billy." This provoked a pretty strong reaction, as he howled and made a big fuss over the fact that it was Not Nice to call people names.
During his protest, Maia's face was a picture. Still, calm and totally calculating, you could almost hear the cogs whirring away.
Needless to say, for the rest of the afternoon, George was called a Silly Billy at every opportunity.
I figure, no, it is Not Nice to call people names. But I can totally see how it would be rewarding to do so after a reaction like that.
Maia and George were winding each other up a bit. George wouldn't let Maia win races, and Maia wouldn't let George sing the alphabet on his own. Seriously.
One exchange revealed the development of a scheming side to our Maia Miss M. She and George were running around, when she jokingly called him a "Silly Billy." This provoked a pretty strong reaction, as he howled and made a big fuss over the fact that it was Not Nice to call people names.
During his protest, Maia's face was a picture. Still, calm and totally calculating, you could almost hear the cogs whirring away.
Needless to say, for the rest of the afternoon, George was called a Silly Billy at every opportunity.
I figure, no, it is Not Nice to call people names. But I can totally see how it would be rewarding to do so after a reaction like that.
Uh Oh.
I have failed as a mother. I have failed as a feminist - in fact, if my 15-year-old-radical-self could see me now...Never mind bra-burning, I think I would be getting toasty hot right about now. Let me explain.
It is not Lucy, her doll. It is not her ideal career choice for when she grows up (although we have managed to modify that a bit...Her ambition is now to be a singer, a dancer, a doctor. And a cleaner.) It is not her devotion to all things pink. And sparkly. And Princess-y.
No, the real reason I have failed is that today, completely seriously, she told me that girls were not as smart as boys.
I was trying to get her to stop using this irritating baby voice she has picked up. "Me want this.." She lisps and coos, and I twitch.
Anyway, I sat her on my lap and asked her how old she was.
"Three"
I asked her how old she nearly was.
"Four!"
I then said that she was big and strong and bright and funny and smart and Nearly Four. And big, strong, bright, funny, smart girls who are Nearly Four don't talk in baby talk.
She looked at me incredulously and said "I am not smart. I am a girl!"
WHAT?? Where the hell did that one come from???
I went through a list of all the smart women she knows (me, Sarah, Noonah, Dr Kris, Jellybean etc etc) and she wasn't having any of it.
Although come to think of it, perhaps she thinks I mean smartly dressed, rather than smart referring to intelligence.
Ah ha! That's it. And when I explain it to her that smart can be smartly dressed as well as intelligent, she have two meanings for one word. Which, if you ask me, is pretty smart.
It is not Lucy, her doll. It is not her ideal career choice for when she grows up (although we have managed to modify that a bit...Her ambition is now to be a singer, a dancer, a doctor. And a cleaner.) It is not her devotion to all things pink. And sparkly. And Princess-y.
No, the real reason I have failed is that today, completely seriously, she told me that girls were not as smart as boys.
I was trying to get her to stop using this irritating baby voice she has picked up. "Me want this.." She lisps and coos, and I twitch.
Anyway, I sat her on my lap and asked her how old she was.
"Three"
I asked her how old she nearly was.
"Four!"
I then said that she was big and strong and bright and funny and smart and Nearly Four. And big, strong, bright, funny, smart girls who are Nearly Four don't talk in baby talk.
She looked at me incredulously and said "I am not smart. I am a girl!"
WHAT?? Where the hell did that one come from???
I went through a list of all the smart women she knows (me, Sarah, Noonah, Dr Kris, Jellybean etc etc) and she wasn't having any of it.
Although come to think of it, perhaps she thinks I mean smartly dressed, rather than smart referring to intelligence.
Ah ha! That's it. And when I explain it to her that smart can be smartly dressed as well as intelligent, she have two meanings for one word. Which, if you ask me, is pretty smart.
Monday, July 10, 2006
A Wedding to Remember
Mum is getting married to Dr Pat - whoo hoo! - in May 2007.
Maia's first reaction when asked if she wanted to be a bridesmaid, was to smile beautifically and say "No."
However, she is all caught up in the fever of the wedding now. She has had in depth discussions with Noonah about what she will wear. Last weekend Mum, Sarah, Maia and I went and bought her a dress, and she has refused to take it off since. Apart from bathtime and for eating porridge. I have the feeling we are going to have to buy another before the big day.
Over breakfast one morning, Maia and Mum were discussing Maia's wedding. She is, so she informed Noonah, going to marry George.
She would wear a pink dress, and flowers in her hair, and jewels and sparkly shoes. Her goldilocks would be pretty and she would look so lovely like a princess.
George would wear his Spiderman underpants, his Spiderman Pajamas and probably his Spiderman Mask. But she wasn't sure, because she thinks the mask would be too hot.
Maia's first reaction when asked if she wanted to be a bridesmaid, was to smile beautifically and say "No."
However, she is all caught up in the fever of the wedding now. She has had in depth discussions with Noonah about what she will wear. Last weekend Mum, Sarah, Maia and I went and bought her a dress, and she has refused to take it off since. Apart from bathtime and for eating porridge. I have the feeling we are going to have to buy another before the big day.
Over breakfast one morning, Maia and Mum were discussing Maia's wedding. She is, so she informed Noonah, going to marry George.
She would wear a pink dress, and flowers in her hair, and jewels and sparkly shoes. Her goldilocks would be pretty and she would look so lovely like a princess.
George would wear his Spiderman underpants, his Spiderman Pajamas and probably his Spiderman Mask. But she wasn't sure, because she thinks the mask would be too hot.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Spending Summer Afternoons
I take Maia out of school on a Wednesday (for ballet) and a Friday (for going to the park when it is sunny, and hosting gangs of marauding kids in the house when it isn't.)
Pat and Mum have decided to each take Maia for an afternoon this summer and do Something Fun with her. Pat is going to take Thursdays and Mum, Tuesdays.
The motivation is two fold, really. She goes to Big School next January, and we will not be able to take her out of school to do Something Fun just because we fancy it. And, it will save some cash.
Although, I am not sure just how much we will end up saving....Friday afternoon I picked Maia up at 1 (thus saving myself £10) and then promptly spent £30 on a new pair of tramping sandals for her, and £5 on a couple of sandwiches and drinks for while we pottered about the park.
So that means I saved minus £25. Yay me! Financial directorship of Enron just round the corner....
Pat and Mum have decided to each take Maia for an afternoon this summer and do Something Fun with her. Pat is going to take Thursdays and Mum, Tuesdays.
The motivation is two fold, really. She goes to Big School next January, and we will not be able to take her out of school to do Something Fun just because we fancy it. And, it will save some cash.
Although, I am not sure just how much we will end up saving....Friday afternoon I picked Maia up at 1 (thus saving myself £10) and then promptly spent £30 on a new pair of tramping sandals for her, and £5 on a couple of sandwiches and drinks for while we pottered about the park.
So that means I saved minus £25. Yay me! Financial directorship of Enron just round the corner....
Road-Weary Maia
There are workmen digging up the bottom of our road, blocking it off entirely. We have access from the top, but to get to it from my normal route to the house, we have to drive past the bottom of the road, along a bit and up the street that runs parallel. Yesterday, Maia sighed heavily when we drove past the road.
"The road is all closed! They are not fixing it." She seemed quite put out.
I explained that they wouldn't be fix the road until they had finished getting underneath it, to fix the power lines. Once they had done that, then they would fix the road.
"Oh" she said.
Later on, eating a snack at the table, she turned to me, and in a quiet voice said
"When is the world going to be fixed?"
I almost burst into tears. What on Earth has led to a 3 year old thinking that the world is broken?
"What do you mean, darling? The world isn't broken" I said, gently.
"No, Mummy, the road. When is the road going to be fixed?"
OOOH! The road! That's better. That one, I can handle.
"The road is all closed! They are not fixing it." She seemed quite put out.
I explained that they wouldn't be fix the road until they had finished getting underneath it, to fix the power lines. Once they had done that, then they would fix the road.
"Oh" she said.
Later on, eating a snack at the table, she turned to me, and in a quiet voice said
"When is the world going to be fixed?"
I almost burst into tears. What on Earth has led to a 3 year old thinking that the world is broken?
"What do you mean, darling? The world isn't broken" I said, gently.
"No, Mummy, the road. When is the road going to be fixed?"
OOOH! The road! That's better. That one, I can handle.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, June 16, 2006
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?"
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?"
Monday, June 12, 2006
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
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
Monday, June 05, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Oh, The Difference A Generation Makes
I think I can count on one or two fingers the amount of times my Dad has let me drive his boat. To be fair, he has had a fair few phonecalls from me, apres accident, about his car(s)...so I completely understand.
I once drove Coto-Pack-Sea some of the way to Rose (there are photos to prove it) but I have never had the pleasure of captaining Easy Rider.
Not so my 3-and-three-quarter year old daughter. One trip home from Rose, Maia expressed a desire to sit at the back with Papi. Then, she asked to sit on his lap. Then she wanted to steer the boat...
Then she wanted to do it on her own. So Papi sat her down, eased the throttle back to a slow crawl, and let her have the wheel.
Working out the Stick That Made The Boat Go needed to be forward to get The Fast, Maia punched the throttle forward, grabbed the wheel, and we were flying. On her own! Dad was, of course, within easy reach of everything. The payoff - the look on Maia's face - was wondrous.
Although, this was the same day I found out that Noona had fed Maia some chocolate as a treat after breakfast!
It got me thinking, anyway.... I used to be fed wheatgerm for breakfast. Kids were firmly banished to the front of the boat to take on ropes and fender duty.
And while I wouldn't change my parents for all the T in Tiffany, there is something about being a grandparent that certainly agrees with them both.
I once drove Coto-Pack-Sea some of the way to Rose (there are photos to prove it) but I have never had the pleasure of captaining Easy Rider.
Not so my 3-and-three-quarter year old daughter. One trip home from Rose, Maia expressed a desire to sit at the back with Papi. Then, she asked to sit on his lap. Then she wanted to steer the boat...
Then she wanted to do it on her own. So Papi sat her down, eased the throttle back to a slow crawl, and let her have the wheel.
Working out the Stick That Made The Boat Go needed to be forward to get The Fast, Maia punched the throttle forward, grabbed the wheel, and we were flying. On her own! Dad was, of course, within easy reach of everything. The payoff - the look on Maia's face - was wondrous.
Although, this was the same day I found out that Noona had fed Maia some chocolate as a treat after breakfast!
It got me thinking, anyway.... I used to be fed wheatgerm for breakfast. Kids were firmly banished to the front of the boat to take on ropes and fender duty.
And while I wouldn't change my parents for all the T in Tiffany, there is something about being a grandparent that certainly agrees with them both.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Snapshots
Here is a link to Kris's photo album. Some great shots - see if you can spot the ones Maia took...
Link to Kris's photo website
Link to Kris's photo website
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Singing In The Rain
While we were in Nassau, Dad took a day off to take us to Rose Island on the boat. The weather, however, had other ideas. It was bucketing it down. Proper deluge. So, instead, we decided to go down town and have a wander about the straw market, grab some lunch and generally mooch about.
The straw market was depressing, being completely devoid of anyone actually making anything. I remember it always had a high proportion of tat, but you used to be able to get handmade straw bags, and watch the ladies weaving bright straw threads into tropical flower and palm tree patterns. Very shabby chic. Anyway, it seemed all of the stallholders now spend their time flogging identical nasty Gucci and Fendi knock-offs.
We powered through the strawmarket pretty swiftly and ducked into Athena (a greek restaurant) for lunch. After a brief, unsuccessful go at sitting on the balcony (bit wet) we went inside. The waitress serving us had extraordinarily long hair, and Maia was convinced she was a princess. A lovely lunch later, we ventured out again.
We kept on getting rained on, and after a while, decided it was pointless trying to stay dry by ducking under canopies and archways. We decided to just wander about, getting soaked. Maia was fine with this until she got a great big splash of water on her new flip flops, and she started wailing.
Papi spun around and started singing "You Are My Sunshine" in his impressive baritone. So, we had a rousing chorus of that, followed by a round of Zippedy-Doo-Dah. Soaked, we got back to the car and made our damp way home across the raging floodwaters of Bay Street. So, no boat trip, but plenty of water.
The straw market was depressing, being completely devoid of anyone actually making anything. I remember it always had a high proportion of tat, but you used to be able to get handmade straw bags, and watch the ladies weaving bright straw threads into tropical flower and palm tree patterns. Very shabby chic. Anyway, it seemed all of the stallholders now spend their time flogging identical nasty Gucci and Fendi knock-offs.
We powered through the strawmarket pretty swiftly and ducked into Athena (a greek restaurant) for lunch. After a brief, unsuccessful go at sitting on the balcony (bit wet) we went inside. The waitress serving us had extraordinarily long hair, and Maia was convinced she was a princess. A lovely lunch later, we ventured out again.
We kept on getting rained on, and after a while, decided it was pointless trying to stay dry by ducking under canopies and archways. We decided to just wander about, getting soaked. Maia was fine with this until she got a great big splash of water on her new flip flops, and she started wailing.
Papi spun around and started singing "You Are My Sunshine" in his impressive baritone. So, we had a rousing chorus of that, followed by a round of Zippedy-Doo-Dah. Soaked, we got back to the car and made our damp way home across the raging floodwaters of Bay Street. So, no boat trip, but plenty of water.
A Trailer Park Princess Day
In my defense, it was hot. Properly, scorchingly hot. And humid too, don't forget humid.
Well, that is why Maia was naked. And it was a Sunday, a treat day, so that would explain the cherry icepop, clutched in her very red, sticky paws.
As for sitting on the kitchen floor, next to the cat food, red-pawed and bare-bottomed like a little monkey, well...
OK, no excuse. But she did look a picture... one of those 1930's Time Magazine Dustbowl ones, maybe...
After she had finished the cherry icepop I decided she needed a wash. But not just any wash - a cooler bath! We positioned the cooler outside in the shade and filled it with hose water and she hopped in. We splashed and sploshed and made a racket - then hopped out and spent a while running through the hose, making rainbows and pretending it was raining.
The boys were up on the roof, painting it white (natural air con!), drinking beer, talking about man things. After careful consultation between us, Maia, Sarah and I decided that what we really needed was milk, cookies and cartoons, so we toweled off and retreated to the A/C chilled bedroom, and Maia spent a noisy hour in surreal sensory overload.
American Mother's Day - what better way to spend it than playing Trailer Park Princess?
Well, that is why Maia was naked. And it was a Sunday, a treat day, so that would explain the cherry icepop, clutched in her very red, sticky paws.
As for sitting on the kitchen floor, next to the cat food, red-pawed and bare-bottomed like a little monkey, well...
OK, no excuse. But she did look a picture... one of those 1930's Time Magazine Dustbowl ones, maybe...
After she had finished the cherry icepop I decided she needed a wash. But not just any wash - a cooler bath! We positioned the cooler outside in the shade and filled it with hose water and she hopped in. We splashed and sploshed and made a racket - then hopped out and spent a while running through the hose, making rainbows and pretending it was raining.
The boys were up on the roof, painting it white (natural air con!), drinking beer, talking about man things. After careful consultation between us, Maia, Sarah and I decided that what we really needed was milk, cookies and cartoons, so we toweled off and retreated to the A/C chilled bedroom, and Maia spent a noisy hour in surreal sensory overload.
American Mother's Day - what better way to spend it than playing Trailer Park Princess?
Monday, May 08, 2006
Long Pees
We have been trying to encourage Miss MMJ to develop an adventurous palate. We ask her to try things, and if she doesn't like them, she doesn't have to eat any more of it after the initial test mouthful. Any advances in sophistication are somewhat compromised by the fact that we have to bribe her with pudding, usually chocolate, to try stuff, but long journeys and small steps etc etc...
One lunchtime, we were having asparagus. We asked Maia to have a taste of these "long peas". She was reluctant. Then we told her that this particular type of long pea (there are a few) makes your wee smell funny.
She duly tried a bit and we forgot all about it.
Later that afternoon, Isabel came round to play.
"I have been to Disney" she announced, "and I had dinner with a Princess"
The two of them dashed upstairs after leaving strict instructions that, if we needed them, we were to come upstairs. Did we think we would be alright? Paula and I did.
After a bit, we heard stomping about in the loo. Now, the last time Maia and Isabel got into the loo together, unsupervised, there was a baby powder EXPLOSION. So, I went to investigate. I found the two of them bent over the loo, sniffing Maia's recently desposited wee.
"Mummy!" Maia said, full of wonder "it does make your wee smell funny!"
"Can Isabel have some?"
One lunchtime, we were having asparagus. We asked Maia to have a taste of these "long peas". She was reluctant. Then we told her that this particular type of long pea (there are a few) makes your wee smell funny.
She duly tried a bit and we forgot all about it.
Later that afternoon, Isabel came round to play.
"I have been to Disney" she announced, "and I had dinner with a Princess"
The two of them dashed upstairs after leaving strict instructions that, if we needed them, we were to come upstairs. Did we think we would be alright? Paula and I did.
After a bit, we heard stomping about in the loo. Now, the last time Maia and Isabel got into the loo together, unsupervised, there was a baby powder EXPLOSION. So, I went to investigate. I found the two of them bent over the loo, sniffing Maia's recently desposited wee.
"Mummy!" Maia said, full of wonder "it does make your wee smell funny!"
"Can Isabel have some?"
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Watch Your Back, Shirley Temple...
Maia and I were playing in her room upstairs, while Pat and Steve Maton were downstairs watching the snooker (don't ask.)
We had had a story or two, played with her animals and moved onto 'Doing Hair'. I bought her a metallic aqua Holiday Hairbrush ("Blue! Like the water, Mummy!") and she wanted to make use of it. So, a few twists and pulls and clips and drapy necklaces later, she announced that she would like to put on her Princess Pink Maia dress and go downstairs to show Pat and Steve.
I stayed upstairs to tidy up a bit. I heard her clomp clomp clomp down the stairs. Thump thump thump into the kitchen, and then
"It's SHOWTIME!" she yelled, at the top of her voice.
She proceeded to prance about, twirling and whirling to make the skirt of the PPM dress spin out. Thank goodness we don't have a sailor costume...
We had had a story or two, played with her animals and moved onto 'Doing Hair'. I bought her a metallic aqua Holiday Hairbrush ("Blue! Like the water, Mummy!") and she wanted to make use of it. So, a few twists and pulls and clips and drapy necklaces later, she announced that she would like to put on her Princess Pink Maia dress and go downstairs to show Pat and Steve.
I stayed upstairs to tidy up a bit. I heard her clomp clomp clomp down the stairs. Thump thump thump into the kitchen, and then
"It's SHOWTIME!" she yelled, at the top of her voice.
She proceeded to prance about, twirling and whirling to make the skirt of the PPM dress spin out. Thank goodness we don't have a sailor costume...
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Oh the Adventures We Will Have....
Maia is planning some BIG TIME adventures in Nassau. Her latest plan is to go to the sea with Alec. So far, so good. And easily achieved.
Then she will get some food from the man and travel to the bottom of the sea and feed the sharks.
Uh huh.
"It will be OK, Mummy." She said in her Don't Be Silly voice.
"Alec will be there to make sure the sharks don't bite me."
I fear sitting on Rose, pottering a bit, is going to seem tame in comparison. Ah well, as long as she has Her Alec, I think she will be fine.
Then she will get some food from the man and travel to the bottom of the sea and feed the sharks.
Uh huh.
"It will be OK, Mummy." She said in her Don't Be Silly voice.
"Alec will be there to make sure the sharks don't bite me."
I fear sitting on Rose, pottering a bit, is going to seem tame in comparison. Ah well, as long as she has Her Alec, I think she will be fine.
Maia's Solution to A Clash of Engagements
We got an invitation at nursery this week to Alistair and Lewis's joint 4th birthday party. Maia ripped into the envelope and thrust me half an invite
"What does it say, Mummy?"
I read it out to her, before I realised that the party is on the 6th May, and we are leaving for Nassau on the 4th. Ah.
I explain to Maia that Alistair and Lewis are having a party, but that we will be in Nassau seeing Noonah and Alec and Papi.
"Oh." She says
"I KNOW! Lets call the airplane and tell them that we can't come on the plane yet, because we have to go to Alistair and Lewis's party! Then we can go to Nassau."
"Well, we have already bought the tickets, darling, and if we don't use them when we say we will, then they might not let us go."
"I KNOW! We can buy some more tickets!"
"Well, they have run out. So we can't get any more. I think we are going to miss this party"
Given that there was a snotty note on the bottom of the invite stating "The show starts at 12.15, so DON'T BE LATE!" I was not too distressed at the thought of missing a party that combined uptight parents with a children's entertainer, lots of sweeties and a million 3 and 4 year olds...
"I KNOW! We could take everyone to Nassau with us!"
Problem solving a la Maia
"What does it say, Mummy?"
I read it out to her, before I realised that the party is on the 6th May, and we are leaving for Nassau on the 4th. Ah.
I explain to Maia that Alistair and Lewis are having a party, but that we will be in Nassau seeing Noonah and Alec and Papi.
"Oh." She says
"I KNOW! Lets call the airplane and tell them that we can't come on the plane yet, because we have to go to Alistair and Lewis's party! Then we can go to Nassau."
"Well, we have already bought the tickets, darling, and if we don't use them when we say we will, then they might not let us go."
"I KNOW! We can buy some more tickets!"
"Well, they have run out. So we can't get any more. I think we are going to miss this party"
Given that there was a snotty note on the bottom of the invite stating "The show starts at 12.15, so DON'T BE LATE!" I was not too distressed at the thought of missing a party that combined uptight parents with a children's entertainer, lots of sweeties and a million 3 and 4 year olds...
"I KNOW! We could take everyone to Nassau with us!"
Problem solving a la Maia
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Every Girl Needs A Pair
We did our seasonal shop at Hennes today - sweeping up nice bright, cheap and cheerful basics for the summer (and our holiday!) As soon as we got into the shop, Maia gravitated towards the shiny things, and had to be reminded relatively strongly that we had to get clothes first and THEN we could look at the shiny things.
An armful of tops and skirts and trousers later, she rushed over to the tiaras and father boas (I kid you not) to ooooh and aaaah alot. She was there with Pat, who I think she thought was going to be a soft touch, but he proved to be resistant to the charms of the sparkle ("But Daddy, look! It has a tiara and a wand!")
I found a pair of shiny pink ballet pumps in her size and brought them over. Totally impractical. No ankle support, shiny pink non-leather, will probably give her blisters if she wears them for too long. In other words, totally wonderful.
"Maia, how about these for dress up?"
"OOOOOOH" she said, "They are Fairy Princess Ballerina shoes!" and her pupils dilated, and she moved towards the shoes, mesmerised.
Needless to say, we bought them, and she hasn't taken them off since.
An armful of tops and skirts and trousers later, she rushed over to the tiaras and father boas (I kid you not) to ooooh and aaaah alot. She was there with Pat, who I think she thought was going to be a soft touch, but he proved to be resistant to the charms of the sparkle ("But Daddy, look! It has a tiara and a wand!")
I found a pair of shiny pink ballet pumps in her size and brought them over. Totally impractical. No ankle support, shiny pink non-leather, will probably give her blisters if she wears them for too long. In other words, totally wonderful.
"Maia, how about these for dress up?"
"OOOOOOH" she said, "They are Fairy Princess Ballerina shoes!" and her pupils dilated, and she moved towards the shoes, mesmerised.
Needless to say, we bought them, and she hasn't taken them off since.
Where Have All The White Eggs Gone?
We want to do some egg dying tomorrow, while Maia is off school and it is Easter and all, but there are no white eggs anywhere! They are all brown. Or light blue - if you want to spend an extra quid or two and buy Colombian Blacktail eggs from Waitrose.
All I want are some plain old white eggs to paint with food colouring for Easter. Goodness. Political correctness gone clucking mad, I tells ya.
All I want are some plain old white eggs to paint with food colouring for Easter. Goodness. Political correctness gone clucking mad, I tells ya.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Park, 'Ave A New Princess
At Millhouses Park today, Maia attempted a very ambitious, over the water, post-to-post jump on the Adventure Trail and came a cropper. She slipped off her post and did a spectacular faceplant into a huge puddle of mud (or muddle, as we later christened it.)
She was wailing in shock and anger. I got to her in half a second, and, after checking for broken bones and blood, started making soothing, "lets-go-get-cleaned-up" noises. She really was covered in mud - hands, up one arm, most of one leg, a good half of the face. A fair clump of hair too. And an ear.
It took her a while to realise the extent of the coverage...And when she realised it had got to her hair, she came over all Princess Pink Maia...
"Oh Mummy!" she wailed, "I have mud in my Goldilocks!"
She snivelled most of the way to the park cafe loos, but perked up mightily upon mention of tea and cakes to soothe fallen-overness. I think she quite enjoyed the drama of stripping off and washing in the sink, and she had a long conversation with a group who saw her go in (muddy) and come out (less muddy).
One gingerbread man and a discussion about wet and slippery play equipment later, we were all good. Even if she still had pretty dirty Goldilocks.
She was wailing in shock and anger. I got to her in half a second, and, after checking for broken bones and blood, started making soothing, "lets-go-get-cleaned-up" noises. She really was covered in mud - hands, up one arm, most of one leg, a good half of the face. A fair clump of hair too. And an ear.
It took her a while to realise the extent of the coverage...And when she realised it had got to her hair, she came over all Princess Pink Maia...
"Oh Mummy!" she wailed, "I have mud in my Goldilocks!"
She snivelled most of the way to the park cafe loos, but perked up mightily upon mention of tea and cakes to soothe fallen-overness. I think she quite enjoyed the drama of stripping off and washing in the sink, and she had a long conversation with a group who saw her go in (muddy) and come out (less muddy).
One gingerbread man and a discussion about wet and slippery play equipment later, we were all good. Even if she still had pretty dirty Goldilocks.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
A LickAndAPromise
Pat went upstairs last night to check on the bath he had just run. He put his hand in to test the temperature, and when it reappeared blue and frosty, we knew there was a problem.
So, time to check the boiler. There is an off/on switch that normally cures all things boilerish and we flicked that in the anticipation that, upon restart, we would have a fully functioning hot water system. Boom, boom, boom! Big booms coming from a thing wot burns gas meant we switched it off, double-quick-time.
No hot water, so Maia was introduced to the LickAndA Promise. A lick (a little wash) and a promise (to wash more thoroughly next time).
Although in her case, it was a babywipe and a promise...
So, time to check the boiler. There is an off/on switch that normally cures all things boilerish and we flicked that in the anticipation that, upon restart, we would have a fully functioning hot water system. Boom, boom, boom! Big booms coming from a thing wot burns gas meant we switched it off, double-quick-time.
No hot water, so Maia was introduced to the LickAndA Promise. A lick (a little wash) and a promise (to wash more thoroughly next time).
Although in her case, it was a babywipe and a promise...
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Sandal Scandal
£40. FORTY QUID!
for a pair of CHILD'S SANDALS.
They were cute...Made by Stones & Bones, bright turquoise, velcro straps with a really nice supporting ankle strap. The selling point for Maia was the big, sparkly jeweled flower on the front. However, given that we managed to kit her out in her winter boots (all 4 pairs of them - leopard print included) for only £10 more than that, we regretfully passed, and went for some more practical, if apple green, Startrite ones.
There I was thinking that I had to win the lottery to buy shoes for ME...
for a pair of CHILD'S SANDALS.
They were cute...Made by Stones & Bones, bright turquoise, velcro straps with a really nice supporting ankle strap. The selling point for Maia was the big, sparkly jeweled flower on the front. However, given that we managed to kit her out in her winter boots (all 4 pairs of them - leopard print included) for only £10 more than that, we regretfully passed, and went for some more practical, if apple green, Startrite ones.
There I was thinking that I had to win the lottery to buy shoes for ME...
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Trust Me, Women Can Park
Summer's coming! Summer's coming! Summer's coming! Summer's coming! SUMMER IS COMING!! Hurrah!
We had a pre-summer park trip last Friday with Paula and Isabel, Aine and Cory, Sue, George, Maia and I. Was fun, if a little over-fraught with squabbles and trips to the tea shop and rain.
However, come the long summer evenings, we can take a picnic and laze on the grass drinking white wine spritzers while the kids exhaust themselves! Yay!
We had a pre-summer park trip last Friday with Paula and Isabel, Aine and Cory, Sue, George, Maia and I. Was fun, if a little over-fraught with squabbles and trips to the tea shop and rain.
However, come the long summer evenings, we can take a picnic and laze on the grass drinking white wine spritzers while the kids exhaust themselves! Yay!
Looooooooooooooooooooong Weekends in Easter
To save money, and spend a bit more time with Maia, I (rashly) decided to take Maia out of school on Mondays and Fridays during the Easter break. So for the next 2 weeks, I will be having loooooooooong weekends with Maia.
Tomorrow we have a shopping trip planned, to buy:
a new chest of drawers for Maia's room
pink paint for craft - she wants to make a piglet mask following our farm trip(s) this week
a new computer for me as my laptop died a terminal death
some sandals and a swimsuit for Maia for Nassau.
Yeah, I can see how this is going to save me loads of money.
Tomorrow we have a shopping trip planned, to buy:
a new chest of drawers for Maia's room
pink paint for craft - she wants to make a piglet mask following our farm trip(s) this week
a new computer for me as my laptop died a terminal death
some sandals and a swimsuit for Maia for Nassau.
Yeah, I can see how this is going to save me loads of money.
Oh Silly Mummy!
Jasmine is 4. To celebrate, Naomi and Ian took an entire herd of little sprogs to Cannon Hall Farm near Barnsley.
I was going to take Maia, as millions of sugar-hyped kids is very much not Pat's cup of tea. Anyway, Maia and I dashed out of the house (ten minutes late already! Bugger!) and began the trip to Barnsley. 45 minutes and countless games of I-Spy later, we pulled up, still ten minutes (and a bit) late. We paid-and-displayed, and made our way to the entrance. Knowing I was late, I called Naomi and said "Hello - we are here, where abouts are you?"
"Morrison's. The party is tomorrow."
Bugger bugger bugger
Anyway, I explained my mistake to Maia who said "Oh Silly Mummy!" which pretty much summed it up.
Maia and I went in anyway, saw lots of cute guinea pigs, rabbits, llamas, sheep, chicken, and piglets. Oh the piglets! They were tiny and supercute. Disturbingly, the vent from the cafe was next to the building housing the piglets, so all I could smell was tasty bacon. But otherwise, it was very cool.
Maia was seriously excited about washing her hands, to the extent that I was thinking OCD. When I talked to her about it, she explained that they have sinks her size so she can do everything allbyherself. Which is fair enough.
As I was rehearsing for swashbuckling on Sunday morning, Pat did the return trip. So, having been thwarted on her farm trip last week (link) Maia got to go twice in one weekend.
I was going to take Maia, as millions of sugar-hyped kids is very much not Pat's cup of tea. Anyway, Maia and I dashed out of the house (ten minutes late already! Bugger!) and began the trip to Barnsley. 45 minutes and countless games of I-Spy later, we pulled up, still ten minutes (and a bit) late. We paid-and-displayed, and made our way to the entrance. Knowing I was late, I called Naomi and said "Hello - we are here, where abouts are you?"
"Morrison's. The party is tomorrow."
Bugger bugger bugger
Anyway, I explained my mistake to Maia who said "Oh Silly Mummy!" which pretty much summed it up.
Maia and I went in anyway, saw lots of cute guinea pigs, rabbits, llamas, sheep, chicken, and piglets. Oh the piglets! They were tiny and supercute. Disturbingly, the vent from the cafe was next to the building housing the piglets, so all I could smell was tasty bacon. But otherwise, it was very cool.
Maia was seriously excited about washing her hands, to the extent that I was thinking OCD. When I talked to her about it, she explained that they have sinks her size so she can do everything allbyherself. Which is fair enough.
As I was rehearsing for swashbuckling on Sunday morning, Pat did the return trip. So, having been thwarted on her farm trip last week (link) Maia got to go twice in one weekend.
What Maia Wants To Be When She Grows Up
Maia and I were pottering in the spare room, I was changing the bedsheets and Maia was wiping down the big wardrobe with a baby wipe (as you do). She was having a really good time, demanding to be picked up and held up high so she could get the dusty bits higher up, tutting at how dirty the wipe was getting. (Come to think of it, maybe it wasn't dirt...baby wipes do have extraordinary cleaning/surface stripping abilities. Maybe it was actually stripping varnish. Note to self, get polish wipes upstairs).
Anyway, Maia was having a ball. She turned to me and said
"Mummy, when I am big I can do lots of cleaning. I want to be a cleaner when I grow up."
I said
"Wow, OK." After a beat, I said "You could be a Doctor if you wanted to, you know..."
"No. I don't want to be a Doctor. I want to be a cleaner."
Later on that day we were in the car, singing songs. She said
"When I get big I can sing all the time. I want to be a singer."
Ah ha, I thought. Much better.
"...A singer and a cleaner.."
Anyway, Maia was having a ball. She turned to me and said
"Mummy, when I am big I can do lots of cleaning. I want to be a cleaner when I grow up."
I said
"Wow, OK." After a beat, I said "You could be a Doctor if you wanted to, you know..."
"No. I don't want to be a Doctor. I want to be a cleaner."
Later on that day we were in the car, singing songs. She said
"When I get big I can sing all the time. I want to be a singer."
Ah ha, I thought. Much better.
"...A singer and a cleaner.."
Ten Winkers!
Maia and I were playing in her room this afternoon. We have a game we play where I pretend to be asleep and she can't wake me with anything other than a kiss. Kind of Sleeping Beauty meets Leave Mummy Alone For 40 Winks...
Anyway, Maia was jumping up and down, yelping, yellering and generally making loads of noise. She then started to blow furzibberts. Now, I don't know if you have ever had a furzibbert off a three year old, but they tend to be very wet and not very noisy. Which, of course, is the exact opposite of their intention. Anyway, after a few REALLY spluttery ones (ugh) Maia got me good. A loud, thundercracker of farty noise exploded on my belly and I burst out laughing.
"Mummy! You are supposed to be having ten winkers! You can't wake up now because that wasn't a kiss!"
It most certainly wasn't. And there was no way I was going to get back to sleep after that one, either. Ten winkers indeed.
Anyway, Maia was jumping up and down, yelping, yellering and generally making loads of noise. She then started to blow furzibberts. Now, I don't know if you have ever had a furzibbert off a three year old, but they tend to be very wet and not very noisy. Which, of course, is the exact opposite of their intention. Anyway, after a few REALLY spluttery ones (ugh) Maia got me good. A loud, thundercracker of farty noise exploded on my belly and I burst out laughing.
"Mummy! You are supposed to be having ten winkers! You can't wake up now because that wasn't a kiss!"
It most certainly wasn't. And there was no way I was going to get back to sleep after that one, either. Ten winkers indeed.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Time For A Natter About Anatomy?
Maia and Pat were in the bath together one evening. Maia is quite curious about bodies, and which bits do what...curiosity which led to the following exchange:
"Daddy, what are those things by your willy?"
"Ummmmm"
"Are they filled with poo?"
Pat couldn't speak for laughing, but managed to let her know that they were not, in fact, filled with poo.
Time for the "Where Did I Come From" books to make an appearance, I think.
"Daddy, what are those things by your willy?"
"Ummmmm"
"Are they filled with poo?"
Pat couldn't speak for laughing, but managed to let her know that they were not, in fact, filled with poo.
Time for the "Where Did I Come From" books to make an appearance, I think.
Sneaky Thumb and Jumping Tall
Maia can play a scale! All eight notes up from middle c and sometimes back down again. Right AND left hand....
She uses the Sneaky Thumb to sneak under going up, and the Jumping Tall to jump over going down. It is REALLY cool.
All the piano teachers we have talked to say that they don't take on anyone younger than 5, so we are going to keep it to short, enjoyable bursts of playing. And long, probably insufferable bursts of boasting.
She uses the Sneaky Thumb to sneak under going up, and the Jumping Tall to jump over going down. It is REALLY cool.
All the piano teachers we have talked to say that they don't take on anyone younger than 5, so we are going to keep it to short, enjoyable bursts of playing. And long, probably insufferable bursts of boasting.
Well, Some Are Quacks....
We were sat at breakfast one Saturday morning, deciding what to do with the day. Mum had to go and get a prescription filled, and asked Maia if she fancied An Expo-disshun. Maia's face lit up, and she very enthusiastically jumped down from her seat and pottered over to get her boots on.
Pleasantly surprised, as sometime Maia is a bit of a homebody ('I just want to stay home and play in my room with YOU Mummy') Mum got her ready and off they went.
When they returned, it became clear why she was so keen to go. We said 'pharmacy'; she heard 'farm'.
Her confusion at the lack of ducks and sheep et al was explained to her, and in recompense Noonah bought her a bottle of (mermaid-adorned) bubble bath. Jasi's birthday (at a real farm) is this Saturday, so she will get her fix soon enough.
Pleasantly surprised, as sometime Maia is a bit of a homebody ('I just want to stay home and play in my room with YOU Mummy') Mum got her ready and off they went.
When they returned, it became clear why she was so keen to go. We said 'pharmacy'; she heard 'farm'.
Her confusion at the lack of ducks and sheep et al was explained to her, and in recompense Noonah bought her a bottle of (mermaid-adorned) bubble bath. Jasi's birthday (at a real farm) is this Saturday, so she will get her fix soon enough.
I Spy
Maia and I play I Spy in the car on the way home from nursery pretty much every day. Yesterday she had me in stiches.
"I spy, with maia little eye, something beginning with 'tuh'. The letter 'T'. Do you want a clue, Mummy?"
"Sure, sweetpea. Something beginning with tuh... I can't think of ANYTHING. You will have to give me a clue."
"It is in your mouth, but it isn't bitey like your teeth. It is very licky."
"Is it tongue?" I said, giggling.
"Yes! You are very good at this Mummy. How did you guess that?"
Her clues are great - they usually take the form of little stories and always apply impeccable Maia logic...
"I spy, with maia little eye, something beginning with 'tuh'. The letter 'T'. Do you want a clue, Mummy?"
"Sure, sweetpea. Something beginning with tuh... I can't think of ANYTHING. You will have to give me a clue."
"It is in your mouth, but it isn't bitey like your teeth. It is very licky."
"Is it tongue?" I said, giggling.
"Yes! You are very good at this Mummy. How did you guess that?"
Her clues are great - they usually take the form of little stories and always apply impeccable Maia logic...
Saturday, March 11, 2006
The Visit to Isabel's House
"Go Away, Mummy!"
Maia and Isabel were outraged that we thought they would need supervision. They were Big Girls, and were perfectly fine to play in Isabel's room All By Themselves.
Until Maia got stuck in Isabel's brother's cot. Then they hollered downstairs for us to come and rescue her. When we came upstairs, they were both semi-nekkid and the clothes that Maia did have on were not her own. Banished again, we duly went back downstairs.
Obviously, Getting Stuck In The Cot was a fun game, as Maia clambered in and had to be rescued a few more times before it got boring.
I spent a pleasant afternoon with Paula, drinking tea and playing with David, who is one. We even discussed the possibility of starting sleep-overs for the girls. They play really nicely together, and did spend most of dinner asking if Maia was going to stay the night.
I suppose they figure it took so long for us to organise this afternoon's play that they better start asking early... So stay tuned. Sleep-overs to follow. June, probably...
Maia and Isabel were outraged that we thought they would need supervision. They were Big Girls, and were perfectly fine to play in Isabel's room All By Themselves.
Until Maia got stuck in Isabel's brother's cot. Then they hollered downstairs for us to come and rescue her. When we came upstairs, they were both semi-nekkid and the clothes that Maia did have on were not her own. Banished again, we duly went back downstairs.
Obviously, Getting Stuck In The Cot was a fun game, as Maia clambered in and had to be rescued a few more times before it got boring.
I spent a pleasant afternoon with Paula, drinking tea and playing with David, who is one. We even discussed the possibility of starting sleep-overs for the girls. They play really nicely together, and did spend most of dinner asking if Maia was going to stay the night.
I suppose they figure it took so long for us to organise this afternoon's play that they better start asking early... So stay tuned. Sleep-overs to follow. June, probably...
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Isabel and Maia Learn the Art of Sincere Deception
Isabel and Maia have been trying to organise their parents for about 3 weeks now. Every time I go to pick up Maia she says 'Can Isabel come to my house today?' When I say 'No darling, but I can call Isabel's mother and we will have her to play another day' she says, 'Well, can I go to Isabel's house then?'
I just talked to Paula (Isabel's mum) on the phone to arrange an afternoon playing at their house. She tells me that it is exactly the same for her - everytime she goes to nursery, she encounters A Maia and An Isabel determined to go to anyone's house, as long as it is together.
Last week, they managed to convince the nursery staff that Maia was going round to Isabel's for tea. They had begun talking about it early in the day, and were so convinced, so sincere, that the staff believed them. When Paula came to collect Isabel, she found Maia there, in her coat, all ready to go. Maia was gently told that it wasn't going to happen, and that she had to go home with her own mummy that day.
Apparently she wasn't too distressed. She may have been experiencing the toddler equivalent of 'It's a fair cop, guv...'
I just talked to Paula (Isabel's mum) on the phone to arrange an afternoon playing at their house. She tells me that it is exactly the same for her - everytime she goes to nursery, she encounters A Maia and An Isabel determined to go to anyone's house, as long as it is together.
Last week, they managed to convince the nursery staff that Maia was going round to Isabel's for tea. They had begun talking about it early in the day, and were so convinced, so sincere, that the staff believed them. When Paula came to collect Isabel, she found Maia there, in her coat, all ready to go. Maia was gently told that it wasn't going to happen, and that she had to go home with her own mummy that day.
Apparently she wasn't too distressed. She may have been experiencing the toddler equivalent of 'It's a fair cop, guv...'
Sunday, March 05, 2006
A Sweet Nature
Maia and I were going to the supermarket. We rounded the corner at the top of the hill and saw a beautiful sky, blue with clouds tinged with orange and pink. Maia said
'Mummy look! The clouds have been kissed by the sun and their cheeks are pink!'
It made me feel all wistful and almost weepy.
Then, on the way home, she saw a house with leafless ivy covering the wall. She said
'Yuck, look, Mummy, that house is all hairy.'
A touch less romantic, perhaps, but still a poetic interpretation.
'Mummy look! The clouds have been kissed by the sun and their cheeks are pink!'
It made me feel all wistful and almost weepy.
Then, on the way home, she saw a house with leafless ivy covering the wall. She said
'Yuck, look, Mummy, that house is all hairy.'
A touch less romantic, perhaps, but still a poetic interpretation.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Gobble You Up!
The Sunday afternoon while Dad was here, we went to Strines for lunch. There, while trying to impress upon Maia the importance of not yelping and shrieking while we were waiting for our dinner, Papi told her a tale inspired by the menu. This was The Great and Gory tale of the Giant Yorkshire Pudding who lived in a shed at the bottom of the pub garden. We had to be careful not to make too much noise, as we didn't want to wake him up, because then he would eat us all up! (And to think I was debating the morals of telling Maia about Father Christmas two months ago. Sheesh.)
When we were playing later with the cool Zoibs clicky things that Papi bought for Maia, somehow The Giant Yorkshire Pudding (from now on, known as TGYP) made an appearance. I am not sure at which point Maia decided that Papi was TGYP, nor how she came to the conclusion that they best way of dealing with the TGYP was to pour gravy over him (so he went all floppy and couldn't catch her) but that is where we were. The clicky things abandoned, we played a very odd game of Lady Bringing Food and Chief Gravy Pourer (Maia), The Giant Yorkshire Pudding (Papi) and The Lady Trying Not to Collapse with Mirth in the Corner (me).
Every time Maia would retreat to get more gravy, Papi would roar and make gobbley noises. Maia would shriek with terrified delight and rush over and pour over a jug of imaginary gravy to incapacitate TGYP.
All very odd. And very, very funny.
When we were playing later with the cool Zoibs clicky things that Papi bought for Maia, somehow The Giant Yorkshire Pudding (from now on, known as TGYP) made an appearance. I am not sure at which point Maia decided that Papi was TGYP, nor how she came to the conclusion that they best way of dealing with the TGYP was to pour gravy over him (so he went all floppy and couldn't catch her) but that is where we were. The clicky things abandoned, we played a very odd game of Lady Bringing Food and Chief Gravy Pourer (Maia), The Giant Yorkshire Pudding (Papi) and The Lady Trying Not to Collapse with Mirth in the Corner (me).
Every time Maia would retreat to get more gravy, Papi would roar and make gobbley noises. Maia would shriek with terrified delight and rush over and pour over a jug of imaginary gravy to incapacitate TGYP.
All very odd. And very, very funny.
Puppeteer Papi
Maia's puppet theatre was a joint present from Papi, Noonah, Pat and I, and she LOVES it. It is a very interactive toy - she won't just go and play with it on her own, as she is acutely aware of the need for a Story Teller, a Puppet Person and a Watcher. And, no, they cannot all be one and the same person.
While Papi was here, she decided that we would play Puppets. So we relocated to the front room with cups of tea, and she arranged us for the first show. Papi was The Watcher, she was the Story Teller, and I was the Puppet Person. She spun a story about Scaly MacBeal and the Scary Wolf and The Grandmother who scared them both away, driving the narrative with loud 'And SUDDENLYs' and stage whispered instructions to me as to who to bring up next.
We all had a go at being the Story Teller, the Watcher and the Puppeteer. I loved watching Maia play. She gets really involved in the whole process. She is enthusiastic, stays in character has NO stage fright at all. I can smell the greasepaint already...
While Papi was here, she decided that we would play Puppets. So we relocated to the front room with cups of tea, and she arranged us for the first show. Papi was The Watcher, she was the Story Teller, and I was the Puppet Person. She spun a story about Scaly MacBeal and the Scary Wolf and The Grandmother who scared them both away, driving the narrative with loud 'And SUDDENLYs' and stage whispered instructions to me as to who to bring up next.
We all had a go at being the Story Teller, the Watcher and the Puppeteer. I loved watching Maia play. She gets really involved in the whole process. She is enthusiastic, stays in character has NO stage fright at all. I can smell the greasepaint already...
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Dancin' ... REALLY Dancin'
Maia joined Jasmine and Callum for their Wednesday afternoon dancing class this week. She LOVED it.
She was complimented on her skipping by Miss Janet (and it was mighty fine, I have to say, if not the epitome of gracefulness. Think little tiny skipping hefalump). She knew all about Good Toes and Naughty Toes, and when she wasn't quite sure what to do, Jasmine was very keen to show her the ropes.
In fact, Jasmine was really pretective of her. She fended off those who had designs on getting Maia to be their Galloping-Across-the-Room partner. For such a slight little thing, she is pretty fierce.
Afterwards Maia asked if we could come again, and wanted to go right out and buy some Ballet Shoes.
"I need them, Mummy, so I can do dancing all the time."
So I think she enjoyed it...
She was complimented on her skipping by Miss Janet (and it was mighty fine, I have to say, if not the epitome of gracefulness. Think little tiny skipping hefalump). She knew all about Good Toes and Naughty Toes, and when she wasn't quite sure what to do, Jasmine was very keen to show her the ropes.
In fact, Jasmine was really pretective of her. She fended off those who had designs on getting Maia to be their Galloping-Across-the-Room partner. For such a slight little thing, she is pretty fierce.
Afterwards Maia asked if we could come again, and wanted to go right out and buy some Ballet Shoes.
"I need them, Mummy, so I can do dancing all the time."
So I think she enjoyed it...
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Horsing Around
My dad was here this weekend. It was great to have him here for a while, as he usually has to fly over, dash up, spend a few hours here, zoom back down, fly out again. All in the blink of an eye.
This time, he is over for a week and a bit, so he was able to spend the weekend pottering and playing with Miss Maia.
We went for a walk in the countryside, where Maia showed him a more surreal side to her personality by introducing him to the Knock Knock Game. This is a game whereby someone (usually an adult, at least at first) hides behind a Big Tree. Maia then says 'Knock Knock' and the adult then answers in the style of an animal. For some reason, she usually asks about sausages...
Anyway, Papi decided that for his turn, he would be A Horse.
'Knock Knock' Maia said
'Neigh!' said Papi
'Have you got any sausages?' Maia said
'Nay!' said Papi ...Nay as in No, but also Nay as in Neigh. Geddit? Maia did not.
So she peered round the tree. 'I said, Have You Got Any Sausages?' she said, loudly and a bit slower.
'Nay!'Papi replied, trying not to laugh.
An exasperated look crossed her face. She peered further round the tree and said very loudly, and very slowly 'HAVE YOU GOT ANY SAUSAGES??'
This was all too much for Papi, who scooted out from behind the tree and said that it was probably time to carry on with our walk.
Now, horses are supposed to be pretty intelligent creatures, but somehow I think that Maia's impression of them will always be that they are not terribly smart.
This time, he is over for a week and a bit, so he was able to spend the weekend pottering and playing with Miss Maia.
We went for a walk in the countryside, where Maia showed him a more surreal side to her personality by introducing him to the Knock Knock Game. This is a game whereby someone (usually an adult, at least at first) hides behind a Big Tree. Maia then says 'Knock Knock' and the adult then answers in the style of an animal. For some reason, she usually asks about sausages...
Anyway, Papi decided that for his turn, he would be A Horse.
'Knock Knock' Maia said
'Neigh!' said Papi
'Have you got any sausages?' Maia said
'Nay!' said Papi ...Nay as in No, but also Nay as in Neigh. Geddit? Maia did not.
So she peered round the tree. 'I said, Have You Got Any Sausages?' she said, loudly and a bit slower.
'Nay!'Papi replied, trying not to laugh.
An exasperated look crossed her face. She peered further round the tree and said very loudly, and very slowly 'HAVE YOU GOT ANY SAUSAGES??'
This was all too much for Papi, who scooted out from behind the tree and said that it was probably time to carry on with our walk.
Now, horses are supposed to be pretty intelligent creatures, but somehow I think that Maia's impression of them will always be that they are not terribly smart.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
New Finn, New Blog
When I was a kid, Jennifer Roberts (now Marbury) and I were inseparable. When we were about 7, we used to make 'giggle juice' out of anything and everything we could find in the cupboard and force my brother to drink it (sorry Alec).
We used to play for hours and hours in my house, her house, her grandmother Omi's house, various swimming pools and beaches all over Nassau and Rose Island. Once, on a sleep-over at her house, we thought it would be a good idea to sleep in the hammock on the porch. I don't think I have ever had a more uncomfortable night's sleep in my life. Especially since we gave up on the hammock and transferred to the waterbed. Ugh. Fun though...
Anyway, Jen and I were best buds growing up. She went to Scotland, I went to England, she went back to Nassau then off to Rhode Island (School of Design, no less), I stayed in England blah blah blah...and so it was that we have been out of touch for a while. Couple of emails have been back-and-forthing over the past few years but now Jen and her husband Roger have just had a baby - Finn Benjamin Roberts Marbury - and they are blogging about it here: Baby Marbury
Babies and Blogging - Everyone is doing it!
:)
We used to play for hours and hours in my house, her house, her grandmother Omi's house, various swimming pools and beaches all over Nassau and Rose Island. Once, on a sleep-over at her house, we thought it would be a good idea to sleep in the hammock on the porch. I don't think I have ever had a more uncomfortable night's sleep in my life. Especially since we gave up on the hammock and transferred to the waterbed. Ugh. Fun though...
Anyway, Jen and I were best buds growing up. She went to Scotland, I went to England, she went back to Nassau then off to Rhode Island (School of Design, no less), I stayed in England blah blah blah...and so it was that we have been out of touch for a while. Couple of emails have been back-and-forthing over the past few years but now Jen and her husband Roger have just had a baby - Finn Benjamin Roberts Marbury - and they are blogging about it here: Baby Marbury
Babies and Blogging - Everyone is doing it!
:)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
"George Is Not My Favourite"
Well, and so it is. The swings and roundabouts of toddler favourites have swung around and knocked George off his perch.
George is not longer Maia's Favourite.
Apparently, he won't let Maia be MAIA. He wants her to be Tinkerbell all the time, or Princess Leeya (she won't have it that you pronounce it 'Lay-ya'). He, meanwhile, insists on being Spiderman, or Luke Skywalker.
Maia just wants to be Maia. George will be Favourite No More. Isabel Beginty - come on down!
George is not longer Maia's Favourite.
Apparently, he won't let Maia be MAIA. He wants her to be Tinkerbell all the time, or Princess Leeya (she won't have it that you pronounce it 'Lay-ya'). He, meanwhile, insists on being Spiderman, or Luke Skywalker.
Maia just wants to be Maia. George will be Favourite No More. Isabel Beginty - come on down!
Monday, February 13, 2006
Callum, Jasmine and Maia Go Bear Hunting
We went over to Naomi's house this Saturday. Maia, Jasmine and Callum play really well together, leaving plenty time for Naomi and I to chat over lots of cups of tea.
All through lunchtime we had been talking about what kind of bear we would like to find on our Walk In The Woods. Jasmine wanted a pink one, Maia wanted a lilac one, I wanted a stripy one, Naomi a fluffy one, Callum a white one and Ian a grey one. In the end we decided we would look for a fluffy pink, white, lilac and grey striped bear. In Rotherham.
We bundled up warm, spent ages finding all the coats and hats and mitts we would need - then ages taking them all off again so that we could all have a pee. Finally we were off!
The walk to the woods took us along a busy road, so we spent a while sorting out Hand Holding. Gotta hold hands, and there is obviously Toddler Status bound up in who holds which parent's hands. Obviously, the value of holding the hand of a parent that doesn't belong to you is greater than holding one that does. Until, of course, you realise that someone else is holding your Mummy's hand, and then it becomes desirable again. So we swopped about a bit along the way.
We spent a very enjoyable hour or so leaf kicking, dog chasing, log balancing, shrieking, walking-like-a-mousing, stomping, running and laying in the leaves and looking up at the sky. Maia had an al fresco pee behind a tree (taking no chances, I stripped her bottom half completely, so she had a bit of a cold bum for that bit). And of course, bear hunting.
The kids were shattered by the time we finally made it back, and the brief bout of tiredness-induced moaning quickly disappeared as soon as the magic words 'Hot Chocolate' were mentioned.
We had tea, dunked the kids in the bath and drove home tired and happy. A really good day. Despite the lack of fluffy pink, white, lilac and grey striped bears.
All through lunchtime we had been talking about what kind of bear we would like to find on our Walk In The Woods. Jasmine wanted a pink one, Maia wanted a lilac one, I wanted a stripy one, Naomi a fluffy one, Callum a white one and Ian a grey one. In the end we decided we would look for a fluffy pink, white, lilac and grey striped bear. In Rotherham.
We bundled up warm, spent ages finding all the coats and hats and mitts we would need - then ages taking them all off again so that we could all have a pee. Finally we were off!
The walk to the woods took us along a busy road, so we spent a while sorting out Hand Holding. Gotta hold hands, and there is obviously Toddler Status bound up in who holds which parent's hands. Obviously, the value of holding the hand of a parent that doesn't belong to you is greater than holding one that does. Until, of course, you realise that someone else is holding your Mummy's hand, and then it becomes desirable again. So we swopped about a bit along the way.
We spent a very enjoyable hour or so leaf kicking, dog chasing, log balancing, shrieking, walking-like-a-mousing, stomping, running and laying in the leaves and looking up at the sky. Maia had an al fresco pee behind a tree (taking no chances, I stripped her bottom half completely, so she had a bit of a cold bum for that bit). And of course, bear hunting.
The kids were shattered by the time we finally made it back, and the brief bout of tiredness-induced moaning quickly disappeared as soon as the magic words 'Hot Chocolate' were mentioned.
We had tea, dunked the kids in the bath and drove home tired and happy. A really good day. Despite the lack of fluffy pink, white, lilac and grey striped bears.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Nits Nits Nits
Not on us, but there was a rather snotty note that got handed out at school today saying:
'We have noticed that a number of children in the Warren room have live headlice. Would you please comb your child's hair tonight.' Accompanying this wristslap was a handout about how to look for headlice, what they look like, and how to get rid of them.
So, of course I zoomed home as fast as I could
'Oh god, PLEASE let me not have missed them, PLEASE let her not be one of the ones with things crawling about on her head! icky icky icky!'
All the while, I was trying to ease Maia gently into the possibility that we might have to have a bath in the afternoon! And wash her hair with Special Shampoo. She suggested it was to get rid of the spiders, so I guess there are some Warren Room Chinese-whispers going on.
I spent a good few minutes poring over her head (having bribed her to sit still by letting her eat some jelly that they had made in class today) making sure she really REALLY didn't have nits. I was worried that I might not see them, but if they can notice them at school when there are 15 kids in the class, I am sure I wouldn't miss them standing 5 cm from Maia's skull.
Will be doing regular combing from here on in. If there are loads of the little buggers hopping about, we will have to be vigilant. I just hope somehow, we escape them. Yuck!
'We have noticed that a number of children in the Warren room have live headlice. Would you please comb your child's hair tonight.' Accompanying this wristslap was a handout about how to look for headlice, what they look like, and how to get rid of them.
So, of course I zoomed home as fast as I could
'Oh god, PLEASE let me not have missed them, PLEASE let her not be one of the ones with things crawling about on her head! icky icky icky!'
All the while, I was trying to ease Maia gently into the possibility that we might have to have a bath in the afternoon! And wash her hair with Special Shampoo. She suggested it was to get rid of the spiders, so I guess there are some Warren Room Chinese-whispers going on.
I spent a good few minutes poring over her head (having bribed her to sit still by letting her eat some jelly that they had made in class today) making sure she really REALLY didn't have nits. I was worried that I might not see them, but if they can notice them at school when there are 15 kids in the class, I am sure I wouldn't miss them standing 5 cm from Maia's skull.
Will be doing regular combing from here on in. If there are loads of the little buggers hopping about, we will have to be vigilant. I just hope somehow, we escape them. Yuck!
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Pat Gets Ordained
Maia and Pat did some face-painting this afternoon. This mostly involved Pat painting a butterfly on Maia, then taking it off because it made her cheeks hurt. They agreed that face-painting shouldn't stop just because her cheeks hurt, and wouldn't Daddy like to have some face-paint too?
She was obviously feeling Most Artistic and, by the time I arrived, had created an amazing tableau of blues, yellows and reds marching across Pat's face. She immediately informed me that she was half a butterfly (all that remained was the black outline) and that Daddy was a 'Shepherd Monk'.
Eh?
We think she might have meant chipmunk, but I like the idea of a Shepherd Monk better.
Patrick Seamus Francis Cull, of The Ancient Order of Those Who Washed Their Socks By Night...
She was obviously feeling Most Artistic and, by the time I arrived, had created an amazing tableau of blues, yellows and reds marching across Pat's face. She immediately informed me that she was half a butterfly (all that remained was the black outline) and that Daddy was a 'Shepherd Monk'.
Eh?
We think she might have meant chipmunk, but I like the idea of a Shepherd Monk better.
Patrick Seamus Francis Cull, of The Ancient Order of Those Who Washed Their Socks By Night...
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Little Grey Cloud
Maia is still a bit grizzly and whiney at the moment, which is quite hard to deal with. I am not sure what is prompting it. She is normally pretty cheery, and as whining doesn't get rewarded, she is getting frustrated when she doesn't get her way.
Anyway, we were in the car, coming back from dropping off the vacuum cleaner to be fixed (it is all about the glamour, here) when Maia starts grizzling over something or other in the back seat. I say "That is enough Maia, no grizzling please. If you talk to me in a Big Voice I can help you." and then do my best to ignore the grizzles and wait for the Big Voice, and an explanation of what is bugging her.
She moans and half cries for a bit, and then starts mournfully singing
"red...(sniff) and yellow...and pink (sniff sniff) and blue..." all in this Little Grey Cloud Raining on Eeyore voice.
Mum and I are doing our very best not to burst out laughing. I sneak a look at her. She catches me looking and starts to sing more cheerfully. Once she is done, I tell her that she is like a little Grey Cloud singing the Rainbow Song, and that we should all sing it like Sunshine. So we belt out a verse of I Can Sing A Rainbow that takes us home.
I don't want to deny her the right to let us know that she feels grotty - we all feel like crap at times. I also don't want to force her to repress genuine feelings and display false emotions to make us feel better. But God DAMN, I want her to stop whining... Answers on a Postcard, please.
Anyway, we were in the car, coming back from dropping off the vacuum cleaner to be fixed (it is all about the glamour, here) when Maia starts grizzling over something or other in the back seat. I say "That is enough Maia, no grizzling please. If you talk to me in a Big Voice I can help you." and then do my best to ignore the grizzles and wait for the Big Voice, and an explanation of what is bugging her.
She moans and half cries for a bit, and then starts mournfully singing
"red...(sniff) and yellow...and pink (sniff sniff) and blue..." all in this Little Grey Cloud Raining on Eeyore voice.
Mum and I are doing our very best not to burst out laughing. I sneak a look at her. She catches me looking and starts to sing more cheerfully. Once she is done, I tell her that she is like a little Grey Cloud singing the Rainbow Song, and that we should all sing it like Sunshine. So we belt out a verse of I Can Sing A Rainbow that takes us home.
I don't want to deny her the right to let us know that she feels grotty - we all feel like crap at times. I also don't want to force her to repress genuine feelings and display false emotions to make us feel better. But God DAMN, I want her to stop whining... Answers on a Postcard, please.
Inventive Use of Everyday Objects, Number 324
I was going to a fancy dress party on Saturday, and collected a whole load of alternative costume bits and bobs on my bed to assemble into Something Creative. The theme was Enchanted Forest, and I was either going as a woodland fairy-type thing (in green and brown) or a Narnia-esque Ice Queen. In the end I went for the green and brown, twisted ivy in my hair and donned lots of green make-up.
But not before I had bought some white feathery hairsticks that looked like little mini feather-dusters that had caught a particularly glittery spiderweb. Maia was sitting on my bed 'helping' me get ready when she chanced upon these.
"Oooh, Mummy! Did you buy these as a present for me?"
"Not originally - I was going to put them in my hair to be a snow queen, but I don't need them now, so you can have them if you would like them."
She hopped off the bed, clutching her prize. Standing by the bed she looked intently at the hairsticks, and then at me.
"Look, Mummy! They are for sweeping toes!"
And she amused herself for the rest of the time it took to apply my makeup by sweeping my toes, her toes, and Bear's toes.
But not before I had bought some white feathery hairsticks that looked like little mini feather-dusters that had caught a particularly glittery spiderweb. Maia was sitting on my bed 'helping' me get ready when she chanced upon these.
"Oooh, Mummy! Did you buy these as a present for me?"
"Not originally - I was going to put them in my hair to be a snow queen, but I don't need them now, so you can have them if you would like them."
She hopped off the bed, clutching her prize. Standing by the bed she looked intently at the hairsticks, and then at me.
"Look, Mummy! They are for sweeping toes!"
And she amused herself for the rest of the time it took to apply my makeup by sweeping my toes, her toes, and Bear's toes.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Siren Songs
Dance for your Daddy, my little lovey
Dance for your Daddy, my little lamb
Ye shall have a fishie, on a little dishie
Ye shall have a fishie, when the bo-at comes in
Maia is entranced by this song. She gets a dopey expression on her face and thinks it is wonderful.
On the other hand, Duelling Banjos makes her run around the kitchen table as fast as she can, giggling like a banshee. Talk about mood music...
Dance for your Daddy, my little lamb
Ye shall have a fishie, on a little dishie
Ye shall have a fishie, when the bo-at comes in
Maia is entranced by this song. She gets a dopey expression on her face and thinks it is wonderful.
On the other hand, Duelling Banjos makes her run around the kitchen table as fast as she can, giggling like a banshee. Talk about mood music...
Maia and The Monkey
When I was a kid and staying with my Dad, we all had a nemesis. Obviously, we were wonderfully behaved ANGELS, so anything rude, naughty, messy or dangerous we did was carried out by these evil twins. They were named after our backwards names, so mine was Acire (AK-ee-ray), Gen was Eveiveneg (EH-veh-nedge), Jono was Nahtanhoj (NAT-ah-noj) and Alec's was Cela (Keh-Lah).
Maia's nemesis is The Monkey.
When she is being whiney, or a ratbag or grumpy, Pat looks at her in surprise and says "Is that The Monkey?? What have you done with Maia?!?" It usually gives her an excuse to snap out of her icky mood and return to her sunny self.
Although I do fear we are setting her up for trouble in later life...
"Honestly, Ossifer, it wasn't me...it was The Monkey"
Maia's nemesis is The Monkey.
When she is being whiney, or a ratbag or grumpy, Pat looks at her in surprise and says "Is that The Monkey?? What have you done with Maia?!?" It usually gives her an excuse to snap out of her icky mood and return to her sunny self.
Although I do fear we are setting her up for trouble in later life...
"Honestly, Ossifer, it wasn't me...it was The Monkey"
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Dramatic License
When Maia is being told a story, and she doesn't think the drama is going along at a cracking enough pace, she has a great way of moving the action on. She interrupts with an enthusiastic "And SUDDENLY..." and the person telling the story then has to introduce a wolf, or a whale, or something large and dramatic and of greater interest...
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Kassy's Return
Kassy is back! I am sure you will have heard the yelps and screams and joyous noises from where you are...
Skoolz
I filled in Maia's school choice form today. We had to choose three. She will probably be starting in January 2008 - the next intake after her 5th birthday, which means that I had been feeling very smug about going to see schools AGES ago and getting everything sorted so far in advance.
This smugness soon dissipated when I realised that the deadline had sneaked up on me, and that we had to do it by the end of this month. I don't think it is first-come, first-served though, so all those super-organised parents who did this 3 years ago don't get a better place. Ha!
Anyway, our first choice is Carfield School, which is the school directly behind our house. It is a great old Victorian building, and it was crammed with the children's art and crafts. Lovely feel to the place. We have had the advantage of being able to peer over the wall and see how playtime was supervised, and (apart from one kind of shouty man) they all play nicely, no huge fights or bundles. At least in the back playground that backs onto our house, that is...
The other schools we put down were Meersbrook Bank School, across the park from us, and Ann's Grove Primary which is a bit further into Heeley. Ann's Grove is moving into a fabulous new building, all built to sustainable design principles and across from Heeley city farm (and they have a wind turbine! Hurrah!) However, if she gets sent to Ann's Grove, we are going private - the results are DREADFUL and it seems to have a very difficult and transient population as a catchment. Cool building, tho.
Anyway, the first thing they look at for places is siblings of existing kids, and then the next criteria is proximity to the school. As we can swing a rope ladder over the fence to Carfield and get her to class on time, I think we are well in. But I will let you know.
Here is the website if you fancy a gander...http://www.carfieldprimary.org.uk/
This smugness soon dissipated when I realised that the deadline had sneaked up on me, and that we had to do it by the end of this month. I don't think it is first-come, first-served though, so all those super-organised parents who did this 3 years ago don't get a better place. Ha!
Anyway, our first choice is Carfield School, which is the school directly behind our house. It is a great old Victorian building, and it was crammed with the children's art and crafts. Lovely feel to the place. We have had the advantage of being able to peer over the wall and see how playtime was supervised, and (apart from one kind of shouty man) they all play nicely, no huge fights or bundles. At least in the back playground that backs onto our house, that is...
The other schools we put down were Meersbrook Bank School, across the park from us, and Ann's Grove Primary which is a bit further into Heeley. Ann's Grove is moving into a fabulous new building, all built to sustainable design principles and across from Heeley city farm (and they have a wind turbine! Hurrah!) However, if she gets sent to Ann's Grove, we are going private - the results are DREADFUL and it seems to have a very difficult and transient population as a catchment. Cool building, tho.
Anyway, the first thing they look at for places is siblings of existing kids, and then the next criteria is proximity to the school. As we can swing a rope ladder over the fence to Carfield and get her to class on time, I think we are well in. But I will let you know.
Here is the website if you fancy a gander...http://www.carfieldprimary.org.uk/
Monday, January 16, 2006
Reluctant Miss Maia
Well, Maia has moved up into the Warren room at nursery, and she is not actually properly settled yet. She has changed teachers - Mrs Hunt has stayed with the Sunshine class - and she is now with Mrs Cross.
She seems to think that Mrs Cross is nice (and I think the questions I asked her were only slightly leading, your Honour) but she is expressing relucance to go to school at the moment.
Nothing major, we have not yet had to pick her up and manhandle her into the classroom. Nor is she refusing to get dressed to go to school, sabotaging the trip by hiding the car keys or phoning in bomb scares to the school. But she is a smart girl, so if she really doesn't want to go, I expect to be seeing some crafty tricks soon...
She seems to think that Mrs Cross is nice (and I think the questions I asked her were only slightly leading, your Honour) but she is expressing relucance to go to school at the moment.
Nothing major, we have not yet had to pick her up and manhandle her into the classroom. Nor is she refusing to get dressed to go to school, sabotaging the trip by hiding the car keys or phoning in bomb scares to the school. But she is a smart girl, so if she really doesn't want to go, I expect to be seeing some crafty tricks soon...
Do Nit Panic
OK, so maybe she doesn't have nits. I am very confused.
When I combed her hair with the free comb, there were little white bits (one or two...) but there don't seem to be any more. Maybe it was just general fluff and stuff that was caught in her locks.
Or maybe they are hiding. As well they should...dare to be on MY baby!
When I combed her hair with the free comb, there were little white bits (one or two...) but there don't seem to be any more. Maybe it was just general fluff and stuff that was caught in her locks.
Or maybe they are hiding. As well they should...dare to be on MY baby!
Friday, January 13, 2006
Name-Dropping
I bought Maia some cool bath crayons for Christmas, and since then, a good portion of each bathtime is spent scribbling away on the sides of the bath.
She can now recognise everybody's name, and dah Dah DAH DAH! write her own name.
A genius in her own bathtub!
She can now recognise everybody's name, and dah Dah DAH DAH! write her own name.
A genius in her own bathtub!
Nits and Crosses
Ugh.
We got given a nit comb at school this week, by Mrs Cross, Maia's new teacher. I thought it was a marketing thing "Here! Have a comb!"...Until we used it, and discovered a couple of little tiny white eggs. And now I am all itchy.
I don't want to freak Maia out, so I have been talking in VERY general terms about getting some Special Shampoo and changing her pillow. We spent a while in the bath, wet-combing her hair and she seemed distracted enough by the bath crayons not to ask too many questions.
I wonder if she would be freaked out, at all. Probably not. She does tend to take things in her stride, but then she has never had critters living in her hair before.
S'cuse me - must go buy some Super Strength GETTHEMOFFME Shampoo.
We got given a nit comb at school this week, by Mrs Cross, Maia's new teacher. I thought it was a marketing thing "Here! Have a comb!"...Until we used it, and discovered a couple of little tiny white eggs. And now I am all itchy.
I don't want to freak Maia out, so I have been talking in VERY general terms about getting some Special Shampoo and changing her pillow. We spent a while in the bath, wet-combing her hair and she seemed distracted enough by the bath crayons not to ask too many questions.
I wonder if she would be freaked out, at all. Probably not. She does tend to take things in her stride, but then she has never had critters living in her hair before.
S'cuse me - must go buy some Super Strength GETTHEMOFFME Shampoo.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
