18 June 2011
16 June 2011
Zoo times
Mmm so it's been a long time since I last posted. That probably says everything there is to say about keeping up with two kids and working four days a week. For a few weeks I certainly contemplated downshifting further to three days. But it felt too much like playing at work. So for now we'll see how it goes.
It's been the best spring for years - no rain and my folks were around for a month, which meant several weeks of being able to cook dinner while my parents entertained the girls in the living room. Ah, bliss. How you appreciate being able to stir-fry without fending off a wailing toddler insisting on being carried so they can marvel at the hiss of rice wine on a hot wok.
Roz's chat mode has been turned on but it's still quite difficult to understand what she says half the time. The latest phrase I've learned to recognise is "wok teeby": watch TV. As in, after she's had her nappy changed, and washed up in the morning, while I'm getting dressed, she'll toddle to the door and say "Mama, Rojjy wok teeby, OK? Bye, Mama."
The other morning she said this and her bye-bye mama had such a jaunty lilt Alex and I burst out laughing. Which prompted a minor meltdown. Turns out Roz is a bit sensitive about being laughed at. She wailed for ages and we thought she'd stubbed a toe on some unseen thing. Until I asked "Were you sad because Mummy and Daddy laughed?" "Yes, Rojjy sad." Tsk.
There was quite a pickup in her speaking again after the grommet insertion and this time no infections or anything and we haven't noticed the grommets falling out so hopefully they are doing their job.
Roz is such a bleeding cheeky monkey as well. Today she and Izzy made a batch of beads from Fimo - this coloured clay that's hardened by baking it in the oven. When they came out I put them on the dining table to cool, so the girls, finishing their dinner, could admire them.
Roz immediately leaned over and picked up a bead. "Rojjy eat dis?" "No, Roz, these aren't for eating, they're decorations, for making into necklaces and things." Roz looks me right in the eye and picks up a piece and licks it. "Roz! I said no eating! It's not for eating!"
Izzy runs off and comes back with some string to thread the beads on. I go and get the girls their promised strawberries and ice-cream for dessert. When I come back, Roz is drooling, a big purple bead poking out of her mouth.
"Rozzy! Take it out now!"
Looking only a bit sheepish, Roz spits out the bead.
"Does it taste nice?"
She shakes her head.
"Well stop eating the darn things!"
Roz reaches for another bead. Izzy squeals and tries to take it from her. Roz wails indignantly and reaches for another. Izzy sweeps her arm around the lot, making Roz lunge and then jog her cup of juice so an arc of juice splashes out.
Roz immediately started slapping her hands on the puddle of juice, sending further splashes across the table. Then she picked up the cup and began pouring the rest of the juice onto the table as well.
I think she's only been doing this since she could hold a cup. So I managed to bellow and grab the cup before more than half the contents were emptied. I picked her up, brought her to the bathroom and rinsed her hands and then sat her down on the sofa in the living room growling "That was very naughty. Roz, that was a really naughty thing to do. Mummy is really cross with you. Sit here until I clean up the mess."
And you know the monkey did not look unhappy sitting there. I went back and cleaned up the mess, and then came back to the living room, where she looked up at me with a great, beaming smile. It was really very hard not to smile.
"Rozzy... do you know what you did was naughty?"
"Yeh."
"You know mummy doesn't like you spilling things on the table."
"Yeh."
"Is spilling something good or naughty?"
"Yeh, Rozzy naughty." Big smile.
"Are you going to do it again?"
"Yeh!"
This afternoon, driving home from nursery, she had a gala time winding up her sister by repeating "Izzy naughty" several times. To which Izzy would keep wailing she wasn't.
Izzy has been such a funny mix of new attitude and sensitivity this year. On one hand she does boss the life out of her little friends - she's got a terribly priggish attitude to things and just loves a little lecture. I think it's the chicken in her coming out. I seem to recall her aunt being similar.
On the other it only takes a threat from Tara - usually something ridiculous like "I'm going to tell MRs Wallace (the head teacher) because you tell on me" to send her wailing. And when I threaten to cancel all future play dates on account of neither of them behaving, it's usually Izzy who caves in first and asksan often implacable Tara "But will you still be my friend?"
A particular sticking point these last few weeks has been her after-school club. Because she only goes on a Monday, she pretty much didn't attend April to May because of the bank holidays, half-term and her grandparents being here. And then the first two weeks she went back no children from her year went either.
And then the first week she was back she had an accident - as in she wet herself. You are all sworn to secrecy about this and I will at some point remember to delete this when she's old enough to comb through the archives about herself.
She was looking a bit subdued when I came to pick her up and then came and climbed into my arms. "Why have you got such a soggy bottom?" I should probably have realised from the slight panic in her eyes but it was a very wet day and I thought she'd just been outside on the climbing frames.
"Have you had an accident?"
"No, no I didn't!"
"Oh. Did you sit on the grass or something then? It's really wet today."
"Yes, I sat on the grass."
"Hmmph."
When we got home, however, it was pretty apparent she hadn't just sat on the grass (arrgh my cardigan sleeves!). When we talked about it though you could see the poor thing was absolutely mortified. She started crying and I had to tell her it was OK, it could happen to anyone - and had to regale her with the time I wet my grandmother's bed at seven because I dreamed I'd gone to the toilet - and then she was a bit reassured. But not so much that she didn't make me promise not to tell her dad.
It all just went downhill from that week with pleas on Sunday nights not to have to go to the club and all. It got to the point where I got a bit worried and began asking if everything was alright and whether anyone had been mean to her at the club or anything. Couldn't imagine they had because even the previous times I'd been she'd be playing with children from other schools and years, not just her classmates from school.
The only thing I got out of her was that she got sad watching all the other children go home with their parents on a Monday - which I can see; can't be nice being the only one left behind. I then asked the parents of the other two kids who go on Monday - one irregularly and one regularly and it turns out both of them were not necessarily going for the next few weeks. Arrgh again.
Especially since I'd only put her in on a Monday because the other regular-going kid at the start of the school year had been a bit miserable about it and when I asked his mom about it she was really pleased Izzy was going so he'd have a buddy.
Anyway, Alex succumbed to Izzy's pleas and has said he'll try to work home some Mondays so he can pick her up. Which, on one hand, is nice, but on the other really crap for the long term because that means that either she'll be twice as miserable the days he doesn't pick her and where does that leave me next year?!
After the accident I told the after-school club people what had happened because that second week she wept on appearing at the nursery which is not like her at all and they called me to ask if anything was wrong. Since then they've been quite nice to her and although she's cried a bit each of the two weeks she's been back, they look like they've managed to distract her and cheer her up a bit, which is nice.
Izzy - in family consultation - has said she is quite happy for me to work Saturdays, as long as I can pick her up on a Monday. Huh. O well. Time to review it all come summer holidays. At the moment I'm all for her building up a bit of resilience and toughing it out at least to the end of the summer holidays. It is only two hours between school ending and my picking her up, but sigh I can see how miserable it must be for the poor kid watching everyone else go home.
Speaking of the summer hols there's another headache to organise. I really have to start researching holiday clubs and working out what the heck to do with the six-week break!
Mmm so it's been a long time since I last posted. That probably says everything there is to say about keeping up with two kids and working four days a week. For a few weeks I certainly contemplated downshifting further to three days. But it felt too much like playing at work. So for now we'll see how it goes.
It's been the best spring for years - no rain and my folks were around for a month, which meant several weeks of being able to cook dinner while my parents entertained the girls in the living room. Ah, bliss. How you appreciate being able to stir-fry without fending off a wailing toddler insisting on being carried so they can marvel at the hiss of rice wine on a hot wok.
Roz's chat mode has been turned on but it's still quite difficult to understand what she says half the time. The latest phrase I've learned to recognise is "wok teeby": watch TV. As in, after she's had her nappy changed, and washed up in the morning, while I'm getting dressed, she'll toddle to the door and say "Mama, Rojjy wok teeby, OK? Bye, Mama."
The other morning she said this and her bye-bye mama had such a jaunty lilt Alex and I burst out laughing. Which prompted a minor meltdown. Turns out Roz is a bit sensitive about being laughed at. She wailed for ages and we thought she'd stubbed a toe on some unseen thing. Until I asked "Were you sad because Mummy and Daddy laughed?" "Yes, Rojjy sad." Tsk.
There was quite a pickup in her speaking again after the grommet insertion and this time no infections or anything and we haven't noticed the grommets falling out so hopefully they are doing their job.
Roz is such a bleeding cheeky monkey as well. Today she and Izzy made a batch of beads from Fimo - this coloured clay that's hardened by baking it in the oven. When they came out I put them on the dining table to cool, so the girls, finishing their dinner, could admire them.
Roz immediately leaned over and picked up a bead. "Rojjy eat dis?" "No, Roz, these aren't for eating, they're decorations, for making into necklaces and things." Roz looks me right in the eye and picks up a piece and licks it. "Roz! I said no eating! It's not for eating!"
Izzy runs off and comes back with some string to thread the beads on. I go and get the girls their promised strawberries and ice-cream for dessert. When I come back, Roz is drooling, a big purple bead poking out of her mouth.
"Rozzy! Take it out now!"
Looking only a bit sheepish, Roz spits out the bead.
"Does it taste nice?"
She shakes her head.
"Well stop eating the darn things!"
Roz reaches for another bead. Izzy squeals and tries to take it from her. Roz wails indignantly and reaches for another. Izzy sweeps her arm around the lot, making Roz lunge and then jog her cup of juice so an arc of juice splashes out.
Roz immediately started slapping her hands on the puddle of juice, sending further splashes across the table. Then she picked up the cup and began pouring the rest of the juice onto the table as well.
I think she's only been doing this since she could hold a cup. So I managed to bellow and grab the cup before more than half the contents were emptied. I picked her up, brought her to the bathroom and rinsed her hands and then sat her down on the sofa in the living room growling "That was very naughty. Roz, that was a really naughty thing to do. Mummy is really cross with you. Sit here until I clean up the mess."
And you know the monkey did not look unhappy sitting there. I went back and cleaned up the mess, and then came back to the living room, where she looked up at me with a great, beaming smile. It was really very hard not to smile.
"Rozzy... do you know what you did was naughty?"
"Yeh."
"You know mummy doesn't like you spilling things on the table."
"Yeh."
"Is spilling something good or naughty?"
"Yeh, Rozzy naughty." Big smile.
"Are you going to do it again?"
"Yeh!"
This afternoon, driving home from nursery, she had a gala time winding up her sister by repeating "Izzy naughty" several times. To which Izzy would keep wailing she wasn't.
Izzy has been such a funny mix of new attitude and sensitivity this year. On one hand she does boss the life out of her little friends - she's got a terribly priggish attitude to things and just loves a little lecture. I think it's the chicken in her coming out. I seem to recall her aunt being similar.
On the other it only takes a threat from Tara - usually something ridiculous like "I'm going to tell MRs Wallace (the head teacher) because you tell on me" to send her wailing. And when I threaten to cancel all future play dates on account of neither of them behaving, it's usually Izzy who caves in first and asksan often implacable Tara "But will you still be my friend?"
A particular sticking point these last few weeks has been her after-school club. Because she only goes on a Monday, she pretty much didn't attend April to May because of the bank holidays, half-term and her grandparents being here. And then the first two weeks she went back no children from her year went either.
And then the first week she was back she had an accident - as in she wet herself. You are all sworn to secrecy about this and I will at some point remember to delete this when she's old enough to comb through the archives about herself.
She was looking a bit subdued when I came to pick her up and then came and climbed into my arms. "Why have you got such a soggy bottom?" I should probably have realised from the slight panic in her eyes but it was a very wet day and I thought she'd just been outside on the climbing frames.
"Have you had an accident?"
"No, no I didn't!"
"Oh. Did you sit on the grass or something then? It's really wet today."
"Yes, I sat on the grass."
"Hmmph."
When we got home, however, it was pretty apparent she hadn't just sat on the grass (arrgh my cardigan sleeves!). When we talked about it though you could see the poor thing was absolutely mortified. She started crying and I had to tell her it was OK, it could happen to anyone - and had to regale her with the time I wet my grandmother's bed at seven because I dreamed I'd gone to the toilet - and then she was a bit reassured. But not so much that she didn't make me promise not to tell her dad.
It all just went downhill from that week with pleas on Sunday nights not to have to go to the club and all. It got to the point where I got a bit worried and began asking if everything was alright and whether anyone had been mean to her at the club or anything. Couldn't imagine they had because even the previous times I'd been she'd be playing with children from other schools and years, not just her classmates from school.
The only thing I got out of her was that she got sad watching all the other children go home with their parents on a Monday - which I can see; can't be nice being the only one left behind. I then asked the parents of the other two kids who go on Monday - one irregularly and one regularly and it turns out both of them were not necessarily going for the next few weeks. Arrgh again.
Especially since I'd only put her in on a Monday because the other regular-going kid at the start of the school year had been a bit miserable about it and when I asked his mom about it she was really pleased Izzy was going so he'd have a buddy.
Anyway, Alex succumbed to Izzy's pleas and has said he'll try to work home some Mondays so he can pick her up. Which, on one hand, is nice, but on the other really crap for the long term because that means that either she'll be twice as miserable the days he doesn't pick her and where does that leave me next year?!
After the accident I told the after-school club people what had happened because that second week she wept on appearing at the nursery which is not like her at all and they called me to ask if anything was wrong. Since then they've been quite nice to her and although she's cried a bit each of the two weeks she's been back, they look like they've managed to distract her and cheer her up a bit, which is nice.
Izzy - in family consultation - has said she is quite happy for me to work Saturdays, as long as I can pick her up on a Monday. Huh. O well. Time to review it all come summer holidays. At the moment I'm all for her building up a bit of resilience and toughing it out at least to the end of the summer holidays. It is only two hours between school ending and my picking her up, but sigh I can see how miserable it must be for the poor kid watching everyone else go home.
Speaking of the summer hols there's another headache to organise. I really have to start researching holiday clubs and working out what the heck to do with the six-week break!
08 June 2011
07 June 2011
05 June 2011
Loony babies score free teddies
That, or you get free gifts for buying 2.4kg of chocolate from duty free.
03 June 2011
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