More Tooth Fairy Troubles

Eddie lost his first 'legitimate' tooth yesterday. (I don't think having one knocked out in an incident at school really counts?)

Said tooth was carefully placed in a cup for safekeeping. Said cup was then carefully washed and put away. Accidentally. 

"Never mind," said Eddie, pragmatically. "I have a plan!"

Top marks for resourcefulness. Dropped a few for spelling and punctuation.

In the midst of Goodwood Revival madness in our house this weekend, the situation got forgotten, until I remembered at about 6am this morning. I snuck in with a pound, but was unable to retrieve the correspondence. 

Eddie was confused. "I've got a pound...but the fairy hasn't taken the letter! Why not? And if they didn't take the letter, how did they know?"

"Um....I think tooth fairies just know when teeth fall out. And perhaps the letter was too...large for them to take."

Very few marks for resourcefulness. Dropped marks for forgetfulness.

No longer smashing parenting.

Currently reading: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

From In The Navy To Being Marooned

Today was a big day: Gertie's transition from primary to secondary school.

I don't think I got upset back when any of the kids first started in reception. I was happy that they didn't cry and actually wanted to go, and I don't remember it being hard to deal with. In fact, each time one of them started school I actually think I was happy to have reduced the nursery bill. And when Eddie went to school and the kiddivoucher payments finally stopped so that I was back to full salary, it was brilliant.

And I was working at the end of last term so I didn't get to do all the end of year assembly stuff that they do to mark the end of primary school. Hearth father went and found it all a little bit emosh, but it all sort of passed me by. I was pleased that at 'prom' she still wanted a quite girly dress, unlike some of her friends who looked far too sexy for eleven. She looked beautiful and grown up and dignified.

But this morning was a big deal. For her, it definitely was. All her clothes were laid out the night before. There was a lot of preparation. I got a big squeezy cuddle behind closed doors but a cool blown kiss once we were in the street and I fear that is how it will be from now on. I didn't expect it to be quite such a big deal for me though, to feel quite so emotional this morning; it kind of hit me from nowhere: My little girl is really grown up and confidently moving on.

I took her for an ice cream at the end of the day though.

Tooth Fairy Needs to Remortgage

Gertie begins her secondary school adventure in the morning. Her clothes are laid out ready, the new blazer has its purple flash sewn on denoting her new house colours, the shoes are polished, the school bag and PE kit packed. 

But that's not the story. No, the story is that Mother Nature has picked tonight for Gertie to lose three teeth. In the space of about eight minutes. And a fourth is very wobbly and painful. Calpol required. 

So now, anxious to create a good impression tomorrow, she will in fact resemble a pirate - or a geriatric - every time she opens her mouth.

More to the point, we've had to make an emergency trip to the bank to fund the fallout.

C'est la vie.

Currently reading: Imagine Me Gone by Adam Haslett

School Uniform: The Holy Grail

Smashing parenting today!

This comes with an exclamation mark as it is not a claim I am often able to make. Did I say 'often'? I meant 'ever'. But today is the day.

Let me explain. We are in the final days of the summer holidays and so comes the inevitable uniform buying, gathering, labelling nightmare.

Gertie is going to secondary school which means that she is starting from scratch. Blazer, two polo shirts and the skirt come to eighty quid, and we haven't got as far as shoes or PE kit yet, so this time of year is laden with expense as well as stress. 

The boys won't stop growing, and although Eddie, being number three, essentially lives in hand-me-downs, there is still an awful lot of 'naming' to be done on uniform. This has always filled me with horror. I am not a lover of sewing. The iron-in labels are fiddly and horrible. A biro doesn't quite cut it in the leafy lanes of rural West Sussex. It takes hours and I hate it. Usually. 

But finally, after eleven years of parenting I have made an investment and found the answer. The philosopher's stone, the Holy Grail. It is transformative. Totally life-changing.

This is so not a sponsored post as I am simply not important enough to do that, so I shall refrain from naming the company involved. It wasn't cheap because I had to buy three of them. But I can now stamp their names on to their uniform, This makes it fun. 

Even Gilby's socks have received the treatment. Yes, his socks! Look:

I know. Go me, go me, go me.

Best £44 I have ever spent!

Currently reading:

This is going to hurt by Adam Kay

Girlfriends and Gambling

Eddie had a night out with his 'girlfriend' last weekend.

Yes, Eddie is six.

It gets worse: They went (with her family) to Goodwood and enjoyed an evening of racing. Ahem.  So, he's starting young with the women and gambling. I entrusted five pounds to the care of  Isla's parents so that they could place some bets.

Eddie, of course, won on the first race. £7. So ten minutes in and he has more than doubled his money. Uh oh. He loses on every other race of the night, but is still 'up' at the end. He comes home lofting a precious five pound note high in the air.

"Look at the money I won!" he says.

"And where's the five pounds that Mum gave you to start with?"

"Isla's parents have that. You'll have to ask them. This bit's mine. I won it."

Right.

He had two very late nights in a row. (Well, it's still the summer holidays...) because the following evening he was at a family party. He came home shattered, and, relenting for once, I cuddled him up the stairs to bed. 

"You said I was too heavy to carry up the stairs any more..." he observed, sleepily, cheek pressed into my shoulder.

"Well, just this once, as you are so exhausted," I soothed.

"Yes, I'm much lighter when I'm tired, aren't I?"

Can't fault this boy's logic.




Currently reading: Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh

The Last Lap

Eddie sat on my lap this morning, unprompted, to read a book and do a puzzle. He just tapped my legs for me to  uncross them and climbed up. It was a nice feeling and it suddenly occurred to me that it had been the first time he has done that for a while. I breathed in the still-babyish smell at the back of his neck greedily. He probably thinks that his mother is a weirdo.

He turns seven at the end of September, but has always been much littler than his siblings were at the same age, so he still gets carried up to bed sometimes, or picked up towards the end of a long walk. I wasn't physically able to carry Gertie or Gilby at the same age. It has been a long, long time since one of them sat on my lap. So it strikes me that I am on the countdown for lap-sitting. 

I hope that wasn't the last one.

The Inflatables

Eddie is obsessed with The Incredibles, and thinks that he can run as fast as Dash. One of our first activities of the holidays was going to see The Incredibles 2 at the little cinema in Bognor.

Our trip to France has been more like the yet-to-be-made film, The Inflatables. Much of the action takes place poolside. So far there have been several rounds of the newly invented game 'Banana Interceptor' which is essentially a version of Piggy In The Middle with the addition of a giant inflatable banana as an additional tool for the Piggy.

Poor old inflatable turtle lost a limb, and was given a water burial, complete with prayers and incantations. 

And then the game of 'Edge Ball' emerged. This involves players taking it in turns to throw a ball to hit the opposite edge of the swimming pool where, if it catches the edge, it will bounce up into the air so that either player can catch it. Two points scored for catching your own edge ball, one point for catching your opponent's. Skilful and entertaining, the game has kept Gilby occupied for hours with his  father or his uncle. And, the best edgeballers 'don't get wet', apparently. Funny then, that I seemed to be being continually splashed poolside...

So. Much fun being had by all. Hearth-mother busy consuming lashing of rosé.

Currently reading: The Accidental by Ali Smith