"Mummy, how do you make everything in the world?"; asked by my five year old this morning before leaving for school.
"Well, (think quickly now) Everything is made differently so that is a very hard question to answer honey."
"Oh. Well, how do you make this then?" You might think that would have made it easier, shame she happened to be holding a boomerang at the time.
Walking to school we had an even more surreal three-way conversation. Five year old was telling me about the 'Mona Lisa' and how it was painted by a man called Leonardo hundreds of years ago: "Why did some people live hundreds of years ago mummy?"
Answers on a postcard please.
In the other ear (simultaneously, obviously): "Mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy, I saw a digger."
Cool. I love it. Wish I had the capacity to remember it all, every single word of every single day.
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Rescue Princess
I am a little over-excited about my daughters' new favourite dressing up character. It seems that five year old has invented 'Rescue Princess' (to be read in a superheroine fashion with one fist in the air and and an aura of confidence of the type that comes from being invincible). I believe I have mentioned before that my girls love all the sparkly pink stuff that comes with being young and female these days and sometimes I get more than a little irritated by the simpering 'princess' tones and attitudes that seem to accompany this pinkness. So I am very pleased that 'Rescue Princess' has appeared. She seems capable of pretty much anything you would expect from a superhero, and is especially fond of conquests that involve dragons. Let's hope she sticks around for a while.
Thursday, 12 March 2009
Tired and emotional
It is hard to explain how tired I feel at times, or how overwhelming this task of being a 'single mum' can be. I think it is unlikely that any one person can ever really understand another on this kind of level. Yesterday I felt very down and rather stressed. My two year old - whilst being loving, happy and fun to be with the overwhelming majority of the time - is approaching the age of three and has started being rather stroppy at some points in the mornings. Hopefully this will pass as all these 'phases' do, but at the moment this mainly manifests itself in two fairly hard-to-cope-with ways.
Firstly, she is unhappy about having to sit in a pushchair on the way to school, and makes this clear by getting in and out several times, usually ending in me strapping her in amongst tears and shouting because we are running out of time. Obviously at two it is hard for her to understand that we have to be some places at a set time, and most of the time I can stay calm, but it does try my patience. And this is usually after she has decided to strip completely naked in order to go to the toilet at about 8.15am. Reading these things back it sounds like nothing at all to have to cope with, but at times it feels impossible.
I know I have so much to be grateful for. Two beautiful, kind,caring and healthy children. A house of my own. A life in a country that offers relative freedom for a woman in my position. A certain degreee of financial security. Laughs, cuddles and giggles on a daily basis.
But that does not stop me from occasionally wondering if I can really keep on doing this on a daily basis? I will, of course, I have no choice, but maybe it is just possible that this everlasting tiredness will eventually eat away at the years I have left. Sometimes I catch myself counting the years until the girls are old enough to cope with life on their own. Am I going to make it that far? And how far is that exactly? Age fifteen? Eighteen? Twenty?
An early night tonight I think. And some more positive thoughts tomorrow.
Firstly, she is unhappy about having to sit in a pushchair on the way to school, and makes this clear by getting in and out several times, usually ending in me strapping her in amongst tears and shouting because we are running out of time. Obviously at two it is hard for her to understand that we have to be some places at a set time, and most of the time I can stay calm, but it does try my patience. And this is usually after she has decided to strip completely naked in order to go to the toilet at about 8.15am. Reading these things back it sounds like nothing at all to have to cope with, but at times it feels impossible.
I know I have so much to be grateful for. Two beautiful, kind,caring and healthy children. A house of my own. A life in a country that offers relative freedom for a woman in my position. A certain degreee of financial security. Laughs, cuddles and giggles on a daily basis.
But that does not stop me from occasionally wondering if I can really keep on doing this on a daily basis? I will, of course, I have no choice, but maybe it is just possible that this everlasting tiredness will eventually eat away at the years I have left. Sometimes I catch myself counting the years until the girls are old enough to cope with life on their own. Am I going to make it that far? And how far is that exactly? Age fifteen? Eighteen? Twenty?
An early night tonight I think. And some more positive thoughts tomorrow.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
The younger woman
I can remember a scene from a film that was always on my favourites list called "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe", in which Kathy Bates' character drives her car repeatedly into a shiny new sports car belonging to two younger, well-preened women. I can't fully remember what prompted this; it was something to do with a parking space I think, but I do remember that as she drove away she shouted out to them something along the lines of: "Why did I do that? Because I'm older than you and I have more car insurance." Now clearly in the face of disastrous climate change I cannot possibly condone this kind of irresponsible behaviour, and in my current financial state I would hardly be crowing about my insurance rates, but I am definitely getting to an age and life stage where I can relate to the sentiments she expressed.
As someone who works and has two young children I struggle to find time for things that might be considered an extravagance, such as getting a haircut for example. Well this week I'd finally got to the point where I can hardly see out through my fringe and as I have been feeling rather frumpy of late I decided to go for it, find time and get a style update. The only time I could squeeze in an appointment though meant I had to ask work if it was ok to stretch my lunch hour, which they were ok about. I recall having a long discussion with the ever-so much younger woman at the hair salon reception desk about when we could find a mutually agreeable time before writing the agreed time in my diary.
So imagine turning up at said salon (this is after realising I had left my purse at home and needed to rush back to get it) only to find out that the lovely younger woman had not even written the appointment in the diary. Grrrr. Did I get an apology? No, just a vague stare and a patronising tone of: "Well I haven't written it down, are you sure we said today?" In my head I replied with an equally patronising tone: "Yes honey we did say today, you clearly were too busy talking to your friend to write it down." Although in reality I left the salon speechless and feeling rather deflated.
Oh well, I guess I have a date with my kitchen scissors to look forward to and will have to find some other way of boosting confidence. Bleargh.
As someone who works and has two young children I struggle to find time for things that might be considered an extravagance, such as getting a haircut for example. Well this week I'd finally got to the point where I can hardly see out through my fringe and as I have been feeling rather frumpy of late I decided to go for it, find time and get a style update. The only time I could squeeze in an appointment though meant I had to ask work if it was ok to stretch my lunch hour, which they were ok about. I recall having a long discussion with the ever-so much younger woman at the hair salon reception desk about when we could find a mutually agreeable time before writing the agreed time in my diary.
So imagine turning up at said salon (this is after realising I had left my purse at home and needed to rush back to get it) only to find out that the lovely younger woman had not even written the appointment in the diary. Grrrr. Did I get an apology? No, just a vague stare and a patronising tone of: "Well I haven't written it down, are you sure we said today?" In my head I replied with an equally patronising tone: "Yes honey we did say today, you clearly were too busy talking to your friend to write it down." Although in reality I left the salon speechless and feeling rather deflated.
Oh well, I guess I have a date with my kitchen scissors to look forward to and will have to find some other way of boosting confidence. Bleargh.
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
A day off
This week is my five year old's half-term holiday so I booked today off work in order to take two year old into nursery as usual and have a full day alone with my big girl. It is always a tough one - balancing the needs of both children, I have no idea how people do it with more than two. Of course I did have a few pangs of guilt dropping off my younger daughter, as she's obviously old enough to cotton onto what is happening around her, but I reasoned that she gets a fair amount of one-to-one time during term-time.
I had planned to take a train trip to a local town as a small-scale day out but it was rather a wet day and so we scaled down our plans. I followed her lead and we painted pictures and then made pancakes for lunch. We also did some things that you might not expect to be on a five year old girl's list of things to do when not at school; I needed to take apart a shelving unit that was blocking up the kitchen, so she unscrewed that for me, enjoying every minute. At one point I did wonder if we would get out at all - in fact we had a rather ridiculous discussion when she announced she wanted to "stay at home and tidy up". In hindsight I think she just wanted to help and to be like mummy for the day, as when I sulkily (yes, I know I'm the adult but it was my day off too!) said something along the lines off: "Well if we're staying at home I'm just going to sort out this laundry then and you can do whatever you want." (Pathetic, I know, I'm ashamed.) She then followed me and without a word started hanging wet clothes on the drying maiden. Oh, sweetheart.
Eventually we did go out for an hour or so though, to a local attraction where the queues were several feet deep. On seeing the number of people there I did wonder if I oughtn't to have listened to my wise daughter, but we had fun once we got in. And there was a face painter inside (more queues obviously) - always a winner.
It probably wasn't until about an hour later when we had picked up two year old from nursery that I really appreciated how lovely it had been to spend a day alone with my elder child. Don't get me wrong I love both my children dearly and equally, but it is still good to actually manage to have a full conversation with one of them with no interruptions. On the way back home my car started to overheat so I opened up the bonnet ready to check the radiator as soon as we pulled into the drive. Two year old announced she needed the toilet, I had frozen food in the boot of the car and my phone rang within about five seconds of opening the car doors. We got inside, both children throwing off coats and shoes in random directions as they walked in, both simultaneously asking for different items from the bag of shopping I was carrying in whilst also helping them up the steps and answering the phone and keeping an eye on the open car... Phew.
Overall a good day though.
I had planned to take a train trip to a local town as a small-scale day out but it was rather a wet day and so we scaled down our plans. I followed her lead and we painted pictures and then made pancakes for lunch. We also did some things that you might not expect to be on a five year old girl's list of things to do when not at school; I needed to take apart a shelving unit that was blocking up the kitchen, so she unscrewed that for me, enjoying every minute. At one point I did wonder if we would get out at all - in fact we had a rather ridiculous discussion when she announced she wanted to "stay at home and tidy up". In hindsight I think she just wanted to help and to be like mummy for the day, as when I sulkily (yes, I know I'm the adult but it was my day off too!) said something along the lines off: "Well if we're staying at home I'm just going to sort out this laundry then and you can do whatever you want." (Pathetic, I know, I'm ashamed.) She then followed me and without a word started hanging wet clothes on the drying maiden. Oh, sweetheart.
Eventually we did go out for an hour or so though, to a local attraction where the queues were several feet deep. On seeing the number of people there I did wonder if I oughtn't to have listened to my wise daughter, but we had fun once we got in. And there was a face painter inside (more queues obviously) - always a winner.
It probably wasn't until about an hour later when we had picked up two year old from nursery that I really appreciated how lovely it had been to spend a day alone with my elder child. Don't get me wrong I love both my children dearly and equally, but it is still good to actually manage to have a full conversation with one of them with no interruptions. On the way back home my car started to overheat so I opened up the bonnet ready to check the radiator as soon as we pulled into the drive. Two year old announced she needed the toilet, I had frozen food in the boot of the car and my phone rang within about five seconds of opening the car doors. We got inside, both children throwing off coats and shoes in random directions as they walked in, both simultaneously asking for different items from the bag of shopping I was carrying in whilst also helping them up the steps and answering the phone and keeping an eye on the open car... Phew.
Overall a good day though.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Toilet humour
Both girls seem to synchronise their toilet habits fairly often at the moment, which can lead to some rather amusing conversations overheard from outside the bathroom.
This morning both sat doing their business (one on toilet, one on potty) chatting away. Then they start taking it in turn to tell each other 'jokes' like some kind of bizarre parody of a comedy double act. This is something they have really cottoned onto since pulling open several crackers at Christmas.
The favourite starter tends to be a variation of a joke that went: "Why did the apple go to hospital? Because he wasn't peeling very well." Despite the fact that they have recited various variations of this over and over the telling always elicits peals of giggles from both girls each time.
This morning two year old stretched her version into: "Why did the poo go to London? (the poo always makes an appearance at some point in the proceedings) Because he had to go to hospital." Apparently this was hilarious rather than simply surreal.
This morning both sat doing their business (one on toilet, one on potty) chatting away. Then they start taking it in turn to tell each other 'jokes' like some kind of bizarre parody of a comedy double act. This is something they have really cottoned onto since pulling open several crackers at Christmas.
The favourite starter tends to be a variation of a joke that went: "Why did the apple go to hospital? Because he wasn't peeling very well." Despite the fact that they have recited various variations of this over and over the telling always elicits peals of giggles from both girls each time.
This morning two year old stretched her version into: "Why did the poo go to London? (the poo always makes an appearance at some point in the proceedings) Because he had to go to hospital." Apparently this was hilarious rather than simply surreal.
Yawn
After I had offered to look after a third child for the day today I did begin to wonder whether I have finally completely lost the plot. Let's face it there are days when I struggle to make it through to bedtime with two children to run around after, never mind adding another into the equation. And never mind the fact that I had previously only ever seen this child at the school doors, being ushered in and out of class.
As it turned out today was a lovely day. Admittedly the first half an hour or so after she arrived I was counting down the hours wondering how we would fill the day, but all three girls got on really well, and this was helped by the fact that our visitor was an absolute pleasure to have around. She was completely unphased by the fact that she was spending the day at a new house, with a strange adult, she made sure little sister was included in the games and she was polite and positive throughout the day. How lovely.
I think the extra responsibility has done me in though. I have no idea how teachers keep their eye on an entire class from 9am through to 3pm five days a week. Personally, I am even more tired than usual just from the fact of knowing there was an extra child here. In fact by teatime I was so exhausted I was rushing my two up for a bath by 5.30 just to get closer to the end of the day, rather earlier than usual. And now I think I will follow their early lead and get myself to bed too. Hopefully I can get a couple of hours in before the night-time bed-swopping begins anew...
As it turned out today was a lovely day. Admittedly the first half an hour or so after she arrived I was counting down the hours wondering how we would fill the day, but all three girls got on really well, and this was helped by the fact that our visitor was an absolute pleasure to have around. She was completely unphased by the fact that she was spending the day at a new house, with a strange adult, she made sure little sister was included in the games and she was polite and positive throughout the day. How lovely.
I think the extra responsibility has done me in though. I have no idea how teachers keep their eye on an entire class from 9am through to 3pm five days a week. Personally, I am even more tired than usual just from the fact of knowing there was an extra child here. In fact by teatime I was so exhausted I was rushing my two up for a bath by 5.30 just to get closer to the end of the day, rather earlier than usual. And now I think I will follow their early lead and get myself to bed too. Hopefully I can get a couple of hours in before the night-time bed-swopping begins anew...
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