After waiting for a year and a half after leaving Rainbows, my 8 (nearly 9) year old has finally got a place in Brownies. She'll have all of a year there before having to move up to Guides because the waiting list was so long - and I worry now if she'll be able to go smoothly from Brownies to Guides, or will there be another gap like this.
I realise why it's like this of course - my mother was a Guide leader, and eventually had to close down her Guide unit 10 years after she'd first wanted to retire. Simply because there were NO others willing to take it on and run it, despite wanting their girls to be involved...
I'm not what you'd call a technical prude. Quite the opposite in fact. I embrace technology whole heartedly, then let it consume me and take over my life, with potentially embarrassing consequences.The house is practically wired up without wires, and my next move will probably be to attach a mac mini to my toaster and coffee machine for the perfect breakfast. Kind of like what a teasmaid would have done, but with a cooler logo.As a result of the vast array of technology scattered around our house and carried about our persons, my children are far too technologically savvy for...
The title of this post has nothing to do with anything really. I just had a sudden visual of what might be lurking under the pile of toys and dirty sheets that need clearing up/washing in the back room. Really, it CAN'T be old pizza crusts. I don't even let them eat in there. Well, I do sometimes - but not pizza. Oh God, could there really be old pizza crusts in the laundry pile?So it's now the Easter holiday. Two weeks off school for recuperating and relaxing. That's the kids - but not the adults. I'll be needing that...
We decided to make white chocolate cookies from Miss Comic Relief's new cook book.This was the first time I'd ever let Miss Trouble Pants stir something over heat. It worried me because she needed to stand on a stool to reach it, but she managed just fine.And while miss Comic Relief waited for the chocolate to be ready to mix, she watched a bit of innappropriate TV on my laptop. Whoops.Once she got hold of the ingredients for her turn at mixing, she made it into a little dance....
Last week was one of those weeks that hit all of us at some point in time, where the calendar has a major clash, and too many things end up happening at once.If my Sandra Boyton calendar was a computer, it would have crashed. The blue screen of death/spinning rainbow of death (see, I am bicomputerlingual) would have been hanging on the wall of my kitchen glaring balefully at me with that accusatory "You MADE this happen" tone of voice.The big event of the week was Miss Comic Relief's 6th birthday, which was on Friday - with a party for...
We needed to get out of the house on Mother's day, as Mr Boxer Shorts had work to do. But it was one of those rare sunny days, so we packed up the skates and the skateboard and headed off to the park. Despite the photo to contrary, Miss Comic Relief is getting very very good at rollerskating now.Miss Trouble Pants probably needs some more expert instruction on the skateboard than me, however!...
Miss Comic Relief lost her second tooth this week. She is now sporting a big gap on the bottom of her mouth and she loves pushing her tongue through it. It's going to take me some time to get used to it. The next two teeth are the ones that make the most difference to the face. I am so used to how Miss Trouble Pants looks with her massive beaver teeth (poor child!) that it's always a surprise to look at old photographs.Miss Comic Relief has picture perfect symmetrical teeth. She always has. They are small and perfectly formed,...
Half term holiday is a time of gay abandon, fun filled days and freedom.Or should be.In reality, our half term holiday was a week long agony of torrential rain which trapped us in a tiny house with two sick children who got on each other's nerves so much that we had to separate them. From me.So we were delighted at the chance to get out of the house on Friday to go into Southbank and see a play aimed at children called "The scribe who wouldn't scribble" which my friend had organised for her two kids and mine.The rain didn't...
Right now, the house is silent and calm, as Mr Boxer Shorts is out with the girls on a shopping trip. Shopping for moi.That is a complete and total first. Normally, he forgets. Normally - I let him forget. I do that in order to allow him to show me that he can do it without me needling him. That he can demonstrate his love for me, and surprise me.Strangely, it's never worked.As I turn 40 in 4 days time (deep breath, exhale, relax... you can do this) I made sure that this year he would not be allowed to...
I had the immeasurably pleasurable experience today of accompanying 32 seven and eight year olds on a school excursion to examine rocks and soil.I say immeasurable, because there really is no scale that can accurately rate the level of enjoyment versus panic that a trip like this can induce.Miss Trouble Pants always wants me to go on the school trip with her. She's still young enough to think I am cool. I know that won't always be the case, but I revel in it while it's offered.The instructions for the day were to wear old jeans or trousers that can...
Tonight was the Sunday night bath, which is a weekly ritual that the girls love. Having grown up with a brother, I am relieved for the sake of the general household aroma that mine are both girls, and therefore likely to continue to enjoy cleanliness even as they reach the teen years.But baths tend to take up a lot of time because the girls love to play. They still have bath toys. Or more correctly - toys that happen to now live in the bath. They'd squeal and laugh and spell out words for hours if I let them. They...
As you may know already, I am in love with my iphone. Everything that a girl could want to do can be done on it. And when I say everything, I really mean it. But this post isn't about the "massager app".It's about controlling my children.[Segue] Oh God, don't you wish there really WAS an app for that? Like a children remote. It would be like the guy running about in "Aliens in the Attic" under the control of the alien remote which had my kids in hysterics. Left, right, straight ahead. Pick up knickers. Pick up toys. Put toys away....
After a boring day of driving - and test driving cars - we stopped at a park to let off some steam. The sun was going down, so the light was very yellow, and hitting from low on one side. The girls just wanted to spin each other on a strange sort of torturous device!...
Miss Comic relief has just been to her first Build-a-Bear birthday party. It's something that she was looking forward to with great zeal, because up to this point her big sister had been to three, and she'd been to none. She said it wasn't fair - like a Build-a-Bear party is some kind of right of passage. If you don't know what Build-a-Bear is, the clue is in the name. You go in to the shop, choose a lifeless furry carcass, stick a cloth heart in it, insert a sound chip with an annoying amercian voice or a random noise...
On the last day of the holidays I had a huge amount of things to get done, but rather than do any of them, I stuck the camera on a tripod and played around with long exposures. The lighting was dim, but the incandescent glow was warm and inviting. Plus the girls loved the ghostly effect that we came up with....
The children have learnt how to push each other's buttons. Or more specifically, the 8 year old has figured out what will wind up the 5 year old to the point of implosion. She's also mastered the art of doing it quietly with the illusion that if we can't hear her, then she's not guilty.It shows how sneaky she's grown to be. A cunning and guile that I can't help but be impressed by. As well as a nastiness that horrifies me.And yet, it's something I recognise.Miss Trouble Pants knows that the best way to upset Miss Comic Relief while...
I don't remember what it was like to believe in Santa Claus. That's because I never got a chance to.I was four years old when the older child who lived over the road told me in no uncertain terms that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. My mother was furious, but the damage could not be undone. What was heard cannot be unheard.Four is such an innocent age. It's pretty hard to shake the faith of a four year old. You can tell them not to be terrified of an enormous fuzzy moose that is walking towards them...
