Saturday, 28 June 2014

Teething Trouble

It was a beautiful day last weekend when Gertie made her first Holy Communion. The sun shone down for my little girl's big day.

But I am struggling a little this weekend once more.  Not over complex theological questions (though she certainly likes to pose those) but over the tooth fairy, and the lengths I am now going to allow the 'magic' to last.  

The tooth in question came out on Friday at school, and Gertie left it in her tray, forgetting to take it home at the end of the day.  She was a little bit upset about this on Friday night, but by Saturday she had found the answer:  She resolved to write to the tooth fairy, setting her straight about the situation, and suggesting that the tooth fairy retrieve the tooth from school, but leave the money under her pillow as usual.

I posted my dilemma on Facebook, and it was quickly resolved by a friend who knew someone who knew someone who has access to the school over the weekend.  I am reliably informed that the tooth will have been removed by Monday morning, and I am fairly confident that the tooth fairy will visit this evening.

What a difference a week makes.

Currently reading: Before the Fall by Juliet West

Saturday, 21 June 2014

Potty Book

I saw this and it made me smile.  And then I saw Martin D's 'post' and immediately thought of Eddie.

Because, and here's the thing:  I decided at half term that, since I would be home with the kids, it would be the time to potty train Eddie.  He seemed keen, the weather forecast was good (outdoor activities planned as part of carpet protection scheme) and it would be the summer before I had that kind of time to spare again.

It was an unmitigated disaster.  Day one went something like 8-0 (Carpet v Potty).  Day two was like war.  There was screaming, and tantrums, and Eddie wasn't particularly well-behaved, either.  By day three the plan was abandoned, and we remortgaged the house to pay for the additional nappies needed for the next few months.

And then, the following Friday, he announced at nursery entirely unprompted that he would be, "wearing big boy pants today, thank you".  They duly phoned us for permission to oblige; we laughed down the receiver and thought of the washing he'd be bringing home.

Nope.  Not a bit of it.  No accidents.  Not one. Perfectly potty-trained.  The nursery congratulated us on what a good job we'd been doing.

And that just about sums up Eddie: Nobody is going to tell him what to do or when to do it.

Ever, I suspect.

Anyone want to buy a truckload of nappies?

Currently Reading: The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver

Thursday, 12 June 2014

More Shelves, Please, I'm Winning

I seem to be a little bit preoccupied by my eldest child at the moment.  I do have other children, I remember, but lots seems to be revolving around Gertie. This is the fifth post in a row in which she is the main event.

I will find other subject matter, but just one last little thing.  She does Irish dancing.  Mostly because this was a thing that I had to do when I was little.  She was at the CAID British Open Championships in Farnham in Surrey a couple of weekends ago where she won her light jig and came third in the championship overall, which generated a sizeable piece of silverware.

I did a reasonable job of hiding the remnants of Scissorgate:

Her comment? "Mummy, I know that you've only just decorated my room, but I think I'm going to need another shelf."

Currently reading: The Testament of Mary by Colm Toibin