Summertime, And The Living Is Fleasy

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

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

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

Which got noticed at school.

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

A Very Special Offer

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

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

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

Apologies All

So much to tell you, so little time!

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

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

Two for Four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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?

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?"

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...

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.

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

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.

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.

3 Maia, By Maia, 3

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.

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...

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...

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!

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.