Nathaniel (aged 5) and I spent a hilarious half hour playing on his Nintendo DS tonight. He's good, I'm hopeless, so what happens is that he does most of a 'level' and just as he's about to complete it he passes it to me and I get the flag! How sweet is that. We went upstairs shortly afterwards and he piped up :
"Mummy, if you're still alive I'll teach you how to get on to the next level on my Nintendo".
"Thanks" I said, "I sure hope I will be, shall we do it tomorrow? "
" Well I might not be alive either, because we do have lots of fires at school you know. We had one today and two people died!"
Turns out he'd had a fire drill for the first time. Goodness knows what his teacher had said!
Friday 24 April 2009
Tuesday 21 April 2009
TEETH CASTLES
Lauren, aged 7, lost her second tooth yesterday, hooray! At last, the rest of the family cheered as she'd been miserable and bad tempered fiddling about it with it for what seemed like days!
It happened at school and her teacher, obviosuly having had this sort of thing happen before, wrapped it up in kitchen roll and put her name on the front. And that is how it was placed under her pillow; along with a note specifically telling the tooth fairy when the tooth had come out and that she would like two pounds to spend in exchange for said tooth. Ha, ha, since when was this the way to speak to a mythical creature?
This morning she rushed in to wake me, clutching the two pounds (nothing to do with me, she has her father wrapped around her little finger), and exclaiming about how fab the tooth fairy was.
Nat, aged five, followed shortly behind and so a three way discussion began starting with Lauren. " I saw her in my bedroom mummy, going like this". She fluttered tiny imaginary wings. "I saw her going past my bedroom door like this" said Nat, fluttering gi-normous imaginary wings - not allowing his sister to outdo him!
The discussion went on with Lauren deciding that there MUST be more than one tooth fairy, as children lose their teeth every day of the year so the tooth fairy would be run off her feet if she were the only one. Unlike Father Christmas who only has to work on one night of the year and sleeps for the rest?!
" What does she do with all the teeth " piped up Nat. "She builds a tooth castle" I said - isn't that how the story goes? They batted this idea backwards and forwards thankfully leaving me to get ready, deciding that the bigger teeth would go on the bottom and the smaller ones on the top and that the castle sits on a cloud.
It happened at school and her teacher, obviosuly having had this sort of thing happen before, wrapped it up in kitchen roll and put her name on the front. And that is how it was placed under her pillow; along with a note specifically telling the tooth fairy when the tooth had come out and that she would like two pounds to spend in exchange for said tooth. Ha, ha, since when was this the way to speak to a mythical creature?
This morning she rushed in to wake me, clutching the two pounds (nothing to do with me, she has her father wrapped around her little finger), and exclaiming about how fab the tooth fairy was.
Nat, aged five, followed shortly behind and so a three way discussion began starting with Lauren. " I saw her in my bedroom mummy, going like this". She fluttered tiny imaginary wings. "I saw her going past my bedroom door like this" said Nat, fluttering gi-normous imaginary wings - not allowing his sister to outdo him!
The discussion went on with Lauren deciding that there MUST be more than one tooth fairy, as children lose their teeth every day of the year so the tooth fairy would be run off her feet if she were the only one. Unlike Father Christmas who only has to work on one night of the year and sleeps for the rest?!
" What does she do with all the teeth " piped up Nat. "She builds a tooth castle" I said - isn't that how the story goes? They batted this idea backwards and forwards thankfully leaving me to get ready, deciding that the bigger teeth would go on the bottom and the smaller ones on the top and that the castle sits on a cloud.
Monday 6 April 2009
FRUITY
A few years ago a friend of mine had gone to the pub for Sunday lunch with her husband, daughter (nine year old) and their extended families.
It's a lovely cosy, country pub with lots of log fires and comfy seats, so they had settled themselves around a few tables ready to relax and enjoy a few drinks and a lovely meal.
After ordering drinks at the bar, they were perusing the food menu when their daughter piped up that she needed the toilet. Mum pointed her in the right direction and off she trotted on her own.
The adults were engrossed in conversation and suddenly realised daughter had not yet returned. Just before investigating though, she appeared at the table with what mum recognised was her 'inquisitive head' on!
Just as mummy took a swig of Budweiser from her glass: "Mummy" daughter said in an extremely loud voice, sure enough, question coming, " Whats a condom?!"
Mummy gulped hard and managed to spill Budweiser all over her chin.
Daughter had apparently seen a machine in the toilet, and that was what had taken the time for her to come back!
Oh oh , thought Mum, how do I answer this one!
Just need to point out that my friend is very frank generally, calls a spade a spade and has no problem with explanations, but this one needed careful thought and her daughter was waiting expectantly - as were half the pub!!!!
Deep breath she thought, and launched into a long winded explanation on the birds and the bees and where condoms fitted in to all this. The rest of the pub had gone quiet as they all listened with baited breath to hear how she would handle it.
"Ok?" she said eventually, as she finished ,breathed a sigh of relief and took another large swig of Budweiser (her favourite tipple).
"Well why are they fruity" said her daughter!
Oh Oh! More Bud down mums chin!!
It's a classic story and my friend tells it so well. Hope you enjoyed my version. RX
It's a lovely cosy, country pub with lots of log fires and comfy seats, so they had settled themselves around a few tables ready to relax and enjoy a few drinks and a lovely meal.
After ordering drinks at the bar, they were perusing the food menu when their daughter piped up that she needed the toilet. Mum pointed her in the right direction and off she trotted on her own.
The adults were engrossed in conversation and suddenly realised daughter had not yet returned. Just before investigating though, she appeared at the table with what mum recognised was her 'inquisitive head' on!
Just as mummy took a swig of Budweiser from her glass: "Mummy" daughter said in an extremely loud voice, sure enough, question coming, " Whats a condom?!"
Mummy gulped hard and managed to spill Budweiser all over her chin.
Daughter had apparently seen a machine in the toilet, and that was what had taken the time for her to come back!
Oh oh , thought Mum, how do I answer this one!
Just need to point out that my friend is very frank generally, calls a spade a spade and has no problem with explanations, but this one needed careful thought and her daughter was waiting expectantly - as were half the pub!!!!
Deep breath she thought, and launched into a long winded explanation on the birds and the bees and where condoms fitted in to all this. The rest of the pub had gone quiet as they all listened with baited breath to hear how she would handle it.
"Ok?" she said eventually, as she finished ,breathed a sigh of relief and took another large swig of Budweiser (her favourite tipple).
"Well why are they fruity" said her daughter!
Oh Oh! More Bud down mums chin!!
It's a classic story and my friend tells it so well. Hope you enjoyed my version. RX
Thursday 2 April 2009
HAIR WASH
We all went to watch Benjamin (who's nearly nine) play football at the local club last Sunday morning. It was a glorious sunny morning, the team were winning one-nil and I was busy chatting to some of the other mums and enjoying the sun, whilst watching my lad run about the field with his mates.
Nathaniel (now five),whom I had been watching from a distance ,honest, as he played on the other side of the pitch with his sister Lauren and friend, appeared by my side and started tugging my coat.
I turned to hear him say "Mummy, my hair feels all wet". I looked down and OH MY GOD! His hair was the same colour as mine (plum!). It took a second to register that it was in fact blood and it was still pumping out of a gash on the top of his head. My husband appeared and took one look and said "Oh, it'll be alright". I was nearly hyperventilating so my friend said "No it won't it needs sorting".
Chris and I carried him across the field between us to the car, listening to his wailing all the way. Not because his head was hurting but because he really didn't want to go to hospital.
He'd apparently bumped into one of the large concrete posts that make up the fencing around the ground, he told us through sobs.
We bribed him to get him in the car with the chance to listen to the Foo Fighters, which was a small price for me to have to pay all the way to Harrogate A and E!
Once at the hospital, he was fine. The bleeding had stopped, he was smiling again and all was well in his little world, especially as they had books to look at. We read them all over and over, had a drink from the machine, went to the toilet, read some more and then it was our turn.
He spoke very clearly to the very nice doctor when he asked him what he'd done, and to the nurse when she came to wash his head (no gentle technique here) and glue the wound together.
But the best bit for him was when the doctor came back and said "Now listen young man, you know you won't be able to wash your hair for five whole days now!"
Nat made a fist, pulled his arm into his side and shouted "Yes,get in!!!!!!!!!!!".
Nathaniel (now five),whom I had been watching from a distance ,honest, as he played on the other side of the pitch with his sister Lauren and friend, appeared by my side and started tugging my coat.
I turned to hear him say "Mummy, my hair feels all wet". I looked down and OH MY GOD! His hair was the same colour as mine (plum!). It took a second to register that it was in fact blood and it was still pumping out of a gash on the top of his head. My husband appeared and took one look and said "Oh, it'll be alright". I was nearly hyperventilating so my friend said "No it won't it needs sorting".
Chris and I carried him across the field between us to the car, listening to his wailing all the way. Not because his head was hurting but because he really didn't want to go to hospital.
He'd apparently bumped into one of the large concrete posts that make up the fencing around the ground, he told us through sobs.
We bribed him to get him in the car with the chance to listen to the Foo Fighters, which was a small price for me to have to pay all the way to Harrogate A and E!
Once at the hospital, he was fine. The bleeding had stopped, he was smiling again and all was well in his little world, especially as they had books to look at. We read them all over and over, had a drink from the machine, went to the toilet, read some more and then it was our turn.
He spoke very clearly to the very nice doctor when he asked him what he'd done, and to the nurse when she came to wash his head (no gentle technique here) and glue the wound together.
But the best bit for him was when the doctor came back and said "Now listen young man, you know you won't be able to wash your hair for five whole days now!"
Nat made a fist, pulled his arm into his side and shouted "Yes,get in!!!!!!!!!!!".
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