Making time for fun

Yesterday, my kids broke my heart. They asked to go to someone's (anyone's!) house to play, as they knew I was busy cooking dinner an washing and taking care of everyone.
And so, because it was Sunday and because Little One was napping in Daddy's arms and because my time will become even more diluted in a few short months, I threw up my hands and said 'I'm not too busy! What are we playing?'

For a while we played motorbikes, but I'm a little too big for the plastic push-along motorbike that I'm pretty sure Little Man is about 4 years too big for as well! Incessant rain put the kibosh on a trampoline bounce, and for a few minutes we debated boardgames. While we chatted, Little Lady absentmindedly twisted the bedknob at the foot of her bed. That's when the fun really started.

We all piled onto the bed, and I told them a little about that wonderful movie; Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Excitedly, they practiced saying 'Treguna Mecoides Trecorum Satis Dee'* a couple of times, and then it was time to give it our best shot.

As we had decided to fly the bed to the North Pole, first we wrapped up well. Always thinking of safety, we made sure everyone had something to hang onto during the flight. Little Lady twisted the bedknob the required quarter turn to the left, Little Man tapped it firmly three times, we all chanted the magic spell and then...

Nothing happened. Not a thing.

Little Man realised the bed couldn't get out with the window closed, so we opened it. Next he suggested that the bed may not actually know that magic spell, so he came up with his own:
'Little Lady loves her bed
And so do I,
We're sitting on it now
And we want to FLY!'

Excitedly, they hung on even tighter for our second attempt.
And our third.
On the fourth try they were certain they felt the bed wiggle.
And it wiggled even more on the fifth.
On the sixth try they thought they heard jingle bells and spied a reindeer out the window.

We sat on that bed for well over an hour, using every piece of magic we could think of - from happy thoughts to pixie dust to sparkly wands. The bed failed to fly, and the laundry failed to get done, but we had a heck of a fun time.

By now, our Sunday dinner was ready and we trooped downstairs to rejuvenate ourselves. The rest of the day passed much like any other Sunday, and we all assumed that was that.

This morning though, Hubby and I were faced with two (rare) sets of the Monday blues. After passing the Doctor Mammy health check, it was clear they both needed to go to school, but I wanted them to be happy about it.

I called them both into the sitting room, and announced that they were In Big Trouble. Two pairs of wide blue eyes gazed back at me. I pointed out the window, at the light dusting of snow on the car and asked them to explain themselves.

Little Lady caught on first. She twinkled her eyes at her big brother and squealed 'We flew the bed to the North Pole while you and Daddy were ASLEEEEEP!'. Little Man shrugged and grinned 'Sorry! We must have brought a snow cloud home with us, it probably got caught on the leg of the bed!'

They assured me that they had put their coats on over their pyjamas and held onto each other tight while flying, then they told me all about their adventure and they things they had seen.

On the walk to school, we watched as the North Pole Cloud made all the other clouds freeze and we danced along in the North Pole Snow.

The laundry may never be finished, my house will never look perfect, but the perfection of those cheeky smiles is priceless.




* I am aware (and here I'm mostly addressing you. Aoife) that this is the subsitutiary locomotion spell and not actually a bed-flying spell, but I took a little poetic licence with the sequence of events in the movie :)

Ode to a Dirty Face

I love that smear of porridge in your eyebrow
From playing peekaboo at breakfast time.

That smudge of blue under your chin
Is a reminder of the beautiful picture you drew, before you walked across it and it tore.

There's glitter in your hair
And if your sister sees it she'll know you were 'reading' her Valentine's cards.

There is a morning's worth of running and climbing caught in the jam around your mouth
And one clean cheek above which your blue eye shines with the mischief that meant we were much too busy to clean the rest.

You look, as always, perfect.

Ancient Egypt, kid style

You just gotta love it when kids put their learning into action. Yep, it is endlessly gratifying to watch them employ newfound knowledge in a game, reinforcing their school- and home work.

Today, for example, Little Man's reader was about a magical trip to Egypt in the time of the pharoahs. The children in the book got to make a model pyramid from a special workbook and then travel back in time to see slaves, pharoahs and the Sphinx for themselves.

Now, time travel is beyond my remit, but I did happen to have a 'Build your own Pyramid' workbook right here for when homework was finished. We talked about what the pyramids were used for, how they were built and even took a quick look at hieroglyphics.

Imagine my pride when they started playing Ancient Egypt this evening.

'What's that you're doing guys?'

'Well, we wanted to make a pyramid, so we killed the pharaoh with a sword and now we can put him in!'

Well, quite. 

Secret second lives

There's something strange going on in our house.

For a while now, Little One has displayed all the balance, strength and co-ordination needed to walk, but still he chooses to crawl. He'll stand up to play football, but as soon as the ball moves out of reach he drops down and crawls briskly to his target. 

Until, that is, darkness falls. Then it's straight up on his feet for some intense walking practice. Three steps - bump! Undeterred, he stands again, six steps - bump! Straight up, five steps - bump! This could go on for half an hour at a time. Worn out by bedtime, he sleeps soundly, but come morning he will deny all knowledge of perambulation. 

All day long we try to encourage steps, but to no avail. Content with his ride-on car and the power of his knees and palms he passes a pleasant day, biding his time until dusk - whereupon he is free to display his true abilities once more. 

After observing this for some time, I have drawn the only natural conclusion. 

Little One is, in fact, a ninja spy. We are obviously just part of his cover story. Cute baby crawling around in Mickey Mouse dungarees? Clearly not a threat. Look how excited he gets when he sees a doggie or a brightly coloured ball - the very picture of innocence. Only under cover of darkness can he reveal his true role - Ninja Baby in training. As soon as he's got the walking perfected, we'll move forward to Wax on, Wax off and Dressing All In Black. 

Now, I just hope this blog entry hasn't blown his cover...

Always friends

I have been bitten by the baby. 
Bitten hard. 
Yes, bitten there. 

I am tired, and fairly hungry. My self-control is the first casualty of this state. Involuntarily, I shout 'OW!'

Startled, his face falls and he sobs. Proper, heart-rending sobs. Naturally, I cuddle and soothe him and he seems calm. 

Pushing himself up, he plants a kiss on my face, then leans back as if to survey my reaction. He stays there, half-smile in place and eyebrows raised quizzically, watching my still-furrowed brow. 

I'm powerless. I smile back at this cheeky creature and his face breaks Into a proper smile. Delightedly, he claps twice and then throws himself into my embrace. Satisfied that we are friends again, he settles himself and is asleep in seconds. Satisfied that we are friends again, I settle myself in for a snoozy cuddle. I'm still smiling.

Book review: The Snatchabook

‘In every house, in every bed

A bedtime book is being read’

There. They’ve won me over already.
Yes, I know that sadly not every child gets bedtime stories, but for the ones who do this is a great affirmation of the comforting bedtime routine. The Snatchabook, by Helen Docherty is a beautifully rhythmical book whose poetry seems to flow gently from page to page. The author’s use of asides - 'Long hours passed without a peep (She'd nearly fallen fast asleep!)' - to deal with trickier words for rhyming is observably smart to an adult, but to the wide-eyed child it just adds to the narrator’s charm and gives a sense of them being let in on a secret.

Now for the bad news. As you may have guessed from the title, The Snatchabook is a story in which books are snatched. Gone. Vanished. The first time we read this story, I had to read it quite fast in order to get to a point that would reassure my indignant children that no such fate would befall their books! But fear not dear reader, without giving too much away, I will tell you that no creature in Burrow Down is left without a book to treasure.

I think that I would love this story if it were merely scrawled on a dog-eared A4 sheet and shoved through the letterbox. But oh my, that is far from the case.

The illustrations are stunning, with richly detailed double page spreads just screaming to be framed and put on the playroom wall. ThomasDocherty brings to life the inimitable Eliza Brown, the titular Snatchabook and the cosy, magical Burrow Down with apparent ease.

This is one of those books that really is a true gift, and since having received it ourselves (Thanks Aunt Claire!) I have bought a copy or two to give to other happy children.

We are very much looking forward to the author’s next bedtime read!

Hitchhiker rating: 5 thumbs up 

Playing the heartstrings

It’s 6am and the house is blanketed in silent darkness. Through deep, much-needed, layers of sleep the woman’s subconscious alerts her to a disturbance. Something has changed in the blackness. She tenses, all senses searching for more information.

There! A muted sound, surely? She sits straight up in the bed, heart pounding, bleary eyes attempting to detect subtle variations in the little light available.

Oh.

‘Sweetheart, WHAT are you doing out of bed? It’s still not getting up time you know.’

Little Lady replies, ‘Well, it’s just that I love you so much, I really wanted to give you a hug and it woke me up.’

The moments of fear and disorientation fade, and what’s left is amusement and a little pride.

How does she do that? At 4 and-a-half years of age, how does she know so innately how to defuse a situation?

‘C’mere pet. One and a half hugs and then straight back to bed until getting up time, ok?’

This emotional intelligence is not new, but it surprises me every time. We’ve recently celebrated her learning to peel a banana all by herself. She sat down one morning and learned how to tie shoelaces more through stubbornness than dexterity. She and Little Man are bright kids, but she is streets ahead of him when it comes to understanding emotions – how to read them, how to soothe them, and how to take advantage of them!

The first real grasp of how clever she is in this way came about 6 months after Little One was born. When I went to tuck Little Man into bed, he asked why my belly was still so big even though there wasn’t a baby in it anymore. It was an emotional slap in the face. I thought I hid it well, explained that Mammy’s tummy needs some time to learn how to be small again and he was satisfied. With my brave face in place I went to Little Lady’s room to tuck her in to bed. She stood up, threw her arms around me and declared ‘Mammy, you are a beautiful princess and I love you!’.  I almost cried. It was the perfect thing to do, the perfect thing to say and somehow she knew it!

She’s got a real knack for cheering people up, for just throwing herself into a hug at exactly the right moment and she’s used her charms to get herself out of trouble at least once. To hear her telling a fussy Little One ‘It’s ok pet, you’re just having a tough old day, I’ll say a hug is what you need!’ is at once adorable and admirable.

I think overall, it’s moments like those that make me look at my kids with a kind of awe. We made those kids from scratch, and are so lucky to get to watch them learn and grow into fascinating people with diverse talents and quirks.

And even at 6am, I wouldn’t change a thing!