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This post is a placeholder. Just to let you know we're all alive and well.

Is "I haven't felt like it" a good enough excuse for not blogging?

I hope so. I have a fair few reviews to write up, including a holiday, and hundreds of ideas for blog posts.

We had such a chilled-out holiday that it's been a struggle to get going since our return. The super summer of sport has grabbed our attention. We've had some amazing family days out too, to the Paralympics and as tourists in London. We had three birthdays in four days. Until last week it was still the summer holidays for us. In the evenings I've been spending time with my husband, learning to crochet and reading reading reading. The internet hasn't held my attention.

The school the boys are going to has a rather long induction process. Presley's first day was Monday, Cash doesn't start until Friday (and then it's only part time until the end of September). Cash is lost without his big brother and so am I. Presley is loving school and bounded in with a smile. Cash can't wait to go. I'm looking forward to some time to myself during the day. It's all good.

Everyone is asking me what I'm going to do when they're both at school full time.

In the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger...

I'll be back.



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The Obligatory Starting School Post

Oh dear. I've just typed the title to this post and the tears have started.

Your child's first day at school is such a massive milestone. For me it will be a double milestone. Both my oldest child AND my youngest child will be starting school next month.

Presley was born in early September 2007 and Cash was born less than a year later, in late August 2008. I will have one child who is the oldest in the year and another who is the youngest in the year. What an interesting social experiment... unless you're a parent - or child - trying to make sense of it all. The dynamics of their relationship are fascinating, but that's not a subject for here right now.

My boys will be directly compared to one another all through their school years. They will be a bit of an oddity. They will be asked if they are twins.

Luckily their Reception class has a double intake so they will be in separate registration groups, although they will be together for free play about 90% of the time. Once they move into Year One they will be mostly split up all day and this will be hard for them, although I believe this will be good for them. They will benefit from time apart to develop friendships of their own.

We also have the advantage that Presley and Cash have spent fifteen hours per week during the last school year in the nursery attached to the primary school. As far as they're concerned they're just moving to a different part of the school and they are looking forward to going. This makes it easier for me waving them off, although the staggered start will be interesting for the first few weeks.

From 1st October both my boys will be full time schoolboys. We'll be in a whirl of book bags and PE kits and lunchboxes and clothes labels (I recommend the sticky clothes labels from Easytoname by the way. They haven't paid me to write about them, I'm just a very satisfied customer).

Obviously I'm looking forward to some time to myself, as well as being able to do some more work. Let's not mention how much sorting out I still have to do around the house, we've still not completely unpacked and we moved into this house over a year ago.

For now I have a couple of spirited pre-schoolers. My babies. My babies who are growing up and into their new school jumpers before my eyes. I'm going to make the most of my last few weeks with them, before I sob at the sight of them in their little uniforms.



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The Obligatory Starting School Post

The Baby Baby Blog CV

Name
Baby Baby

Reason for naming this blog Baby Baby
When I started blogging I had two babies. Presley was 20 months and Cash was 8 months old. Now they're 4 and 3 years old, but they'll always be my babies.

Date of Birth
14 May 2009

Reason for starting this blog
I was looking for a hobby and my Twitter friend @Caroljs had just started her first blog, so I thought I'd give it a try.

Reason for still blogging
Because it is fun. I love writing and I love the friends I've made. I now write about so much more than parenting and babies. I love having a creative outlet and a place to display my photographs. Oh yeah, I get invited to do fun stuff and get sent free stuff too. I don't particularly care for blogging about blogging, but I'd quite like a blogger calendar!

Most Popular Posts
The Little Girl and the Diet
My Old Man

The future?
Watch this space...

The Baby Baby Blog CV

Cotton Wool

There's not enough cotton wool in the world to protect my children from the world.

I know this.

I also know that I should be preparing them for the world. I need to create a safe and loving environment that allows them the freedom to explore. One day, in the blinking of an eye, they will be grown ups. They will see or experience sex, bullying, love, death, hate, poverty, war, beauty, famine, rock music and alcohol. They will have their hearts broken and mine will break for them.

This is all way in the future, of course. Right now they are still my gentle little boys, aged 3 and 4. Their world is full of cuddles and toys. They play with crayons, cars, jigsaw puzzles, Orchard Toys games, hobby horses, Duplo, toy food and teddy bears in trolleys, train sets, Happyland figures and books. They watch an hour of CBeebies every day. They have never seen an advert (unless we're at Grandma and Grandad's and Sky Sports is on, then Grandma usually turns over and checks the cricket score), they have never seen the news. I won't even let them watch Cars2 as one of the characters is called 'McMissile'. They've never seen a gun.

They go to the nursery at a primary school every afternoon. I chat to the other mums about Christmas. They mention Ben 10 (not on CBeebies, no idea), Batman (er, Kapow! Thwak!) and Imaginext. I google Imaginext. There is a dinosaur, wearing armour, shooting missiles from its backpack. I don't like the look of it, but does it matter? I just don't know how to ease Presely and Cash into this world, with its hard edges and robot police.


When do I start to introduce the notion that some people aren't very nice? How do I burst their rosy, cosy bubble? Am I doing them a disservice by mollycoddling them?

Cotton Wool

Mortified

I think I may need to add a new stripe to my parenting badge of honour.

I was trying to entertain my children in the GP's waiting room the other day. They had been playing nicely with their sticker books and I felt smug and rather proud. Well, you know what they say about pride, don't you? That's right.

Here comes the fall.

Presley, 3, POINTED to a large young man (think Roland from Grange Hill, aged about 18) and uttered these mortifying words in a loud, clear voice, with perfect diction:

"MUMMY, MUMMY, HE'S A FUNNY MAN. HE'S A FUNNY MAN, MUMMY".

I mouthed a 'sorry' and grimaced at the poor lad as he pulled his collar up over his red face. I told Presley that we don't talk about people like that. The boys then abandoned their sticker books in order to climb all over the seats and shout a lot.

By this point it was too late to tut loudly and pretend they weren't my children.

Oh. The. Shame.




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Mortified

How to Move House with Small Children

We’ve moved home, to a smaller house. We’re still playing the sliding block game with Pickfords boxes.

I will fit everything in. I WILL!

The main thing is the boys are settling in well. Moving house can be daunting at any age, but some pre-schoolers simply don’t like change. In all the upheaval of de-cluttering and packing, the routines you’ve spent months putting in place can be messed around with or forgotten.

Here is the Baby Baby guide to moving house with small children. This is what worked for us.

Preparation

Tell your children what is going to happen. Start gently a few weeks before the move and keep mentioning details of the move when you can. Reassure them that they will be taking all of their belongings with them. Answer their questions and be honest. They can take it. No, this isn’t the last time you’ll see grandma and grandad, but we won’t see them for a while. 

Let them say their goodbyes

They need some closure. An end before a new beginning. Give them time to say their farewells to the house, to the garden, to playgroup, to the local shop if they want to.

Let them pack a bag

Children like to copy you, so let them do their own bit of packing. Make sure they have their favourite teddies and toys in a small bag that travels with you in the car. When you move in they can unpack and will have something to play with straight away while you concentrate on getting that heavy sideboard in the right place while there are burly men around!

Get someone to have them on moving day(s)

Make it a holiday for them. Yes, you want them to be safely out of the way, but you don’t want them to feel pushed out. Presley and Cash’s grandparents took them to our (old) local wetland centre one day and let them dig in the dirt the next. I understand there may have been large quantities of chocolate consumed, but I’m turning a blind eye this time.

Take photographs

We were able to show Presley and Cash all of our worldly goods being loaded into an enormous removal van. They could see what was happening step by step, even though they weren’t there. This reassured them that all was going to plan.

Let them explore the new place

Stop what you’re doing and go round the house and garden with them. So, you unpack the casserole dishses tomorrow instead of today - so what? Ask what do they like about the new house? What don’t they like? What can you help them with? Try to make it as fun for them as you can – even if you feel in utter turmoil and the kettle has gone walkabout.

Familiarity

Do what you can to set up a few familiar areas in the new house as quickly as possible. Obviously their bedrooms are important, but also where you eat, where they wash, nappy changing and CBeebies will help them to settle in quickly.

Listen to them

Children may not always articulate their feelings, but we could see that three year old Presley wasn’t himself for a while. He became a little withdrawn and teary before the move. We did our best to comfort and reassure him, but it turned out that he was distraut that he wouldn’t see the flowers in our old garden again. On our first day a the new house we quickly found a pot and asked him what he would like to plant in there. He said potatoes, well, actually he said ‘patotoes’, but that’s neither here nor there. We changed his focus from the past to the future. Now he can’t wait to go to the garden centre.

Moving house is stressful, but it is also one of the most exciting things you can do. Moving house with children is an experience, but with a bit of forethought it needn't be a disastrous one.

Oh and if all else fails, offer chocolate buttons!





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How to Move House with Small Children

Mother's Day Came Early

This morning Presley was at pre-school and Cash was playing quietly with his brother's toys. I was trying to notify service providers of our impending house move. I found myself getting increasingly frustrated by automated telephone systems. I either didn't have the correct account number or I couldn't find the correct telephone number to call in the first place or after ten minutes on hold the line went dead. I had to hang up time after time, tears of frustration gathering in my eyes. How hard should it be to inform a business of your change of address? Oh and don't even get me started on the telephone provider! By pick-up time I had successfully ticked off just four from my list of twelve.

Moving house is a difficult and stressful time.

I'm upset for Presley having to leave his pre-school. It is so well run, the staff are mature and dedicated and clearly love the children. Today they made a variety of sweets and the baskets to put them in. Blabla (Presley's attempt at saying Barbara) asked him why he loved his mummy, to write on the gift tag. You can see from the photograph above what his response was. His proud, excited face when I walked in, the lovely gift and the beautiful words made me cry.

The sweets were edible too!

This afternoon I read a lovely post by Kelly, who had her last day at work today before going on her second maternity leave. Her last line stopped me in my tracks. I sat up in my seat and read it a few times. She asked

What do you do when your dreams actually come true?

My immediate response was to berate myself for having so little patience with the boys at the moment, for spending time away from them sorting out the house move (and checking my email, blogs, Facebook and Twitter, something I said I wouldn't do during the day *hangs head in shame*). I despaired at the fact that all I ever wanted was a family and I wasn't making the most of it. I never thought it would happen, especially as when I turned thirty six I was single. So to have a wonderful husband and two amazing children really is a dream come true for me.

Thank you Kelly for reminding me of what I have and thank you too Presley for telling me what is important in your life.

This afternoon I stepped away from the laptop, left my phone in my bag and read them stories and gave them cuddles. Bliss.

Mother's Day Came Early

Bubblegum

The crocuses bloom year after year. They keep coming back, pushing their way through the dead leaves. You can't keep us down they say. 

You can't keep me down for long either, but at the moment my emotions are being stretched to breaking point. I'm tired and I feel like there's always something going on that's keeping me from smiling.

Remember Anglo Bubbly bubblegum? It tasted pink. It was hard to begin with but as you worked it with your aching jaw it relaxed. You could blow large airy bubbles. As you blew gently the bubble would become bigger and the gum thinner. The bubble would teeter on the brink of bursting. You would hold your hands out ready to catch it, you didn't want it in your hair. A tiny final puff of air would make the gum see-through, then it would tear apart into wisps - fine pink wisps.

Each time Presley cries and asks me to take away his horrendous chicken pox blisters I can feel the fine threads that are holding my emotions in check stretch into fragile wisps. 

Each time I speak to my Mum in Christchurch or watch the news about the aftermath of the earthquake more emotions fill my bubblegum head.

Each time I try to speak about the inspirational Born To Write event at Save the Children I have to stop, just to keep the gum from tearing. I will write about this amazing day. First I need time to suck a little air out of the bubble, just enough so I can lower my hands.

Bubblegum

Some People Just Can't Take a Joke

Seriously, some people just can't take a joke.

Take today, for example. We demolished an enormous Sunday roast in just 23 minutes. The roast potato tally was as follows:

Andy - 4
Me - 5 (to clarify, that was 3 large and 2 little)
Presley - 3
Cash - 2

As we all sat back, stroking our full bellies, I said to the boys:

Mummy and Daddy are going upstairs now for a sleep. Will you two stay down here on your own and be good?


I knew as I was saying this that they wouldn't get the joke. I hastily back-pedalled and said that I was teasing. We weren't really going upstairs, we were all staying downstairs.

Too little too late, Sandy. Too little too late.

Presley's mouth turned down at the corners, then he burst into tears. It wasn't a good joke, but it wasn't that bad!

It reminded me of another mealtime, this time just before Christmas. We were singing 'When Santa got Stuck up the Chimney'. On the fifth rendition Presley's face fell and he started to howl. He had taken the line 'you girls and boys won't get any toys' entirely literally. Poor little man.

I wonder when they begin to understand jokes?

***

Chicken pox update:

Thank you for all the get well wishes. Cash is a lot better and we can go out now his spots have crusted over. There was a hairy moment early on Thursday morning when he was having trouble breathing. Thanks to a wonderful out of hours GP, who quickly started treating his chest infection, we avoided hospital.

Of course we are now just waiting for Presley's spots to appear...



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Some People Just Can't Take a Joke

The Gallery: Sorry, Tara

The Gallery is a weekly feature on Tara's blog, Sticky Fingers. Tara sets a theme and you join in by posting a photograph on that theme and writing about it.

The theme this week is body parts. Yes, body parts.

To me this conjures up all sorts of gruesome images of dismembered limbs. I clearly have an over-active imagination, but I'm afraid that Tara will find my photographs quite gruesome as they are of feet. Tara doesn't like feet. Sorry, Tara.

I've always hated my feet. I have long second toes and a gap between these and my big toes.

See.

I didn't wear sandals until I was thirty years old.

I saw an episode of 'House Party' when I was a child where a woman was talking about an operation she had on her toes. The 'before' photograph showed my toes. For years I hoped I could have this operation. Our family Doctor didn't share my hope. He said I'd make a good ballet dancer. Well, maybe if I wasn't big boned...

As I got older and more comfortable in my own skin I wasn't so worried about my feet. As you get older you realise there are more important things to worry about than what your toes look like in sandals.

Like anomoly scans.

Imagine my delight when we were told that Presley's 21 week scan showed no anomalies. Even more amusing was this close up of one of his feet.

We quipped to our NCT group that at least we knew he was mine.

More special than that is the knowledge that he inherits features from his late grandfather and late uncle. Both my Dad and my brother had these feet too.

This is my darling baby on the day he was born.

This is a close up a couple of weeks later.

I love these feet.

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The Gallery: Sorry, Tara

Worry

I've worried my whole life.

Becoming a parent took worrying to a whole, previously unimaginable, new level.

I worried whether I would ever have children. I worried about genetics. I worried about how long it would take to conceive.

I worried all the way through each pregnancy. I worried whether I was healthy enough, whether my baby was healthy enough. I worried about what I ate, drank, touched, did. I worried about labour, about how much it would hurt, whether I would have the stamina to get through it.

I worried about caring for a newborn baby - such a responsibility. Was I holding him right? Was he feeding? Was he sleeping? Was he too hot or too cold? Should he be crying more or less? Was he okay?

I worry whether my boys are developing 'normally', I also worry that I am wishing their lives away waiting to hit the next developmental milestone.

I worry about feeding them. I worry that they are eating enough fruit and vegetables. I worry that they are too fussy, that they eat too much bread. I worry that I am too strict, but I worry more that they don't listen to me.

I worry that I don't stimulate them enough and I worry that they are over-stimulated. How much baking and crafting is enough? Should I be taking them to clubs yet? I know I should take them for swimming lessons, but I worry about how I look in a swimsuit. I worry that this is selfish.

I worry that I'll be the fattest mum at the school gates. I worry that their friends will laugh at them. I worry that they won't make friends. I worry that they are too shy and lack confidence.

I know I'll worry about them for the rest of our lives.

The biggest worry of all is when they are ill. They are so small and mine don't really say what is wrong. They just get quiet, clingy and teary. My imagination runs riot and I get hypochondria-by-proxy. I worry myself sick.

Last Wednesday Cash had to go to hospital with suspected swine flu, but he was treated and bounced back remarkably quickly. Thank you all for your get well wishes, they worked - he is full of beans again. I am relieved, but still on edge.

Three year old Presley has had a temperature, cold and nasty cough since Christmas Eve, although his symptoms haven't been as dramatic or acute as his brother's, they are enough for me to worry. I listen to him coughing in his sleep and know there is little I can do to help him. Each morning he is tired. He has spent the past couple of days laying on our laps. I'm going to take him back to the GP tomorrow. Last Wednesday the GP said it was just a virus. I'm hoping this time the GP can treat him or at least tell me that there is nothing to worry about.

I will still worry.




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Worry

Mummy Blogger Family Time With Owners Direct

Andy and I had been thinking of going on holiday for a while. This would be our first holiday with the boys. We wanted to go somewhere nice (obviously), somewhere clean and somewhere not too far away.

Andy and I needed a holiday, but we were worried. What if the boys wouldn't eat or sleep? What if they didn't like it? We were terrified.

I know other families think nothing of hopping on a plane or trekking with their children. I'm ashamed of our lack of confidence in being away from home and away from our routines.

All this changed when the fabulous Publicity Oxford invited us to join three other blogging families at an Owners Direct Farmhouse in the Cotswolds. Everything was being laid on for us. It was only one night. It sounded ideal.

So earlier this month we met up with the lovely New Mummy, Cafebebe and Mellow Mummy and their families at Yew Tree Farmhouse near Lechlade on the Glos/Wilts borders.

Owners Direct have 37,000 self-catering holiday homes and apartments worldwide.

The house was stunning. I've always wanted to live in a house like this.

We had plenty of time to enjoy the house and the garden and the children absolutely loved it. The location was quiet and beautiful.

Spending time with other families was great fun. We all mucked in together to make the holiday a wonderful experience.

I could just imagine a large family gathering or group of friends staying here. Our farmhouse had seven bedrooms and the dining table seated fourteen. We all had our own space but could get together for meals and a glass of wine in the evening.

We would definitely book with Owners Direct for our next holiday. It was a (luxury) home away from home.

The boys ate well, played well and one of them slept well. The other woke up at 3.30 and asked to go home! He soon went back to bed though. We gained so much confidence from this short break.

On the second day we all went to Cotswold Wildlife Park. Despite Cash being startled by a gaggle of guinea fowl we had a great time. The boys loved seeing the animals, they are at the age now where they can take it all in.

Before we left, we stopped at the shop (as you do). We now have our very own zoo at home!

"We parked them, mummy"

Thanks must also go to the companies that donated extra items to make our stay even more comfortable and meant that we didn't have to overload the car. Thank you John Crane (we officially love all of your wooden toys), Huggies, Treasure Trove Toys, BabyBjorn, Jumbo Games, Green's, Boots, University Games, Tippitoes, Munchkin, Sanihands.co.uk and Prince Lionheart.

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Mummy Blogger Family Time With Owners Direct

I Want My Mummy

"I WANT MY MUMMY. I WANT MY MUMMY", screamed the little boy.

His outstretched arms desperately trying to reach his mother.  His mother was walking away, pushing her younger son in a buggy. The other woman, in the blue apron, gripped the frantic little boy tightly to her hip. His face red and wet, he tried again.

"I WANT MY MUMMY".

The mother swallowed hard and walked out of the door.  Once outside, out of sight of both of her children, she sobbed silently. The mother felt her heart ripping into pieces. She knew she had made the right decision, for the right reasons, but this was almost unbearable.

Eventually the screaming stopped. The mother wiped her eyes with her fingers and took her youngest son home.

***

If you hadn't guessed, this was me this week leaving three year old Presley at nursery for the first time. And the second time.

He had a great time, once he had stopped crying. As I collected him each day he told me what he had played with, what he had for his snack, that he saw a dog. He knows that on Wednesdays and Thursdays now he goes to nursery. He is happy to go - in theory - he just hates it when I have to leave.

I knew it would be distressing for both of us to make the move towards his independence. He had previously only been left with his grandparents for short periods. Nursery is a big step. 

The other woman was one of the nursery teachers, she also runs the toddler group that we go to. Presley knows and likes her. She is kind, patient and wonderful with children. If she hadn't been there at nursery I wouldn't have left my boy with them if he didn't want to be there. I certainly wouldn't have handed him over as I did. She rang me both days to tell me how quickly he had settled and that he was playing happily.

It's still one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I hope he settles quickly next week.

Oh and little two year old Cash, well, he had the house and the toys to himself for two mornings this week. He didn't know what to do with himself. We both idly played with Presely's toys, waiting until midday when we could go and collect him.

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I Want My Mummy

We Were On A Break!

We were on a break, a blogging break.

My Mum was here for her annual visit and I didn't want to spend all of it behind a laptop, although when she wanted to read her book...

So what happened while we were (mostly) offline?

We had some birthdays. Cash was two, then Andy was, erm, 29 again and then Presley was three. They still haven't opened all their presents! 

Presley took his first photographs, I think Andy helped a little setting this one up.

We walked on the beach in some beautiful September sunshine.

We made sandcastles.

We sat in holes.

We went to Ikea. It was a rather successful trip. We got there as it opened, bought everything on our list, ate meatballs and left the tea-lights alone. We bought the boys one of these gorgeous quilts each, the photograph really doesn't do it justice.

We said goodbye to baby curls as Cash had his first haircut. 

We got new jobs. We're Toys R Us Toyologists. Toys R Us have recruited forty families from around the UK, known for their online presence, to review toys. This lot was in the first box. We won't keep all of the toys. We'll be holding Toyologist tea parties where toys will be put through their paces in toddler groups, hospitals and children's homes. Reviews to follow...

... Speaking of reviews.

Drumroll please.

I've started a new blog.

Oooh.

From now on I'll be posting all reviews on a dedicated reviews blog called...

(Another drumroll)

Sandy Calico Reviews

***

I think we're almost up to date now. 

Mum left yesterday and gets home tomorrow! She lives a long way away and is having a stopover in Singapore to break up the journey.

We've all had colds and one or other of the boys has vomited every day and night since Sunday - yes, another bug. I spent most of the day today on the sofa with two poorly boys, covered in towels (just in case). I'm tired.

Presley missed his first day at nursery today too.

Hey ho. I'm off to apologise yet again to the washing machine.

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We Were On A Break!

Let Them Eat Cake

We've survived our first toddler birthday party!

The boys were excited to be having a party, but got it into their heads that it wasn't at our house. Even when the banners and balloons went up, they still didn't work it out. 

They liked getting presents, seeing their grandparents and cousins and of course eating cake, but they're still a little young to appreciate the finer points of pass the parcel (or even the basics).

Unfortunately since then the Calico household has been struck down with a bug. We've spent today feeling sorry for ourselves and praying that the puking is over.

Baby Baby will be taking a little break for the rest of the summer*.

My Mum is coming to stay and I don't want to spend the only two weeks a year that I see her sat at my laptop. 

Also we have the actual birthdays of all the men of the house coming up next weekend. We have three birthdays in four days. Yes, that is an awful lot of cake :-)

*that's the theoretical summer, since it has rained here almost everyday since the beginning of July.

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Let Them Eat Cake

Old-Fashioned

We make memories all the time.

Some stay longer than others, but the ones I am desperate to always remember are the memories of my boys being small and sweet and innocent.

Presley and Cash are gentle little souls and they play together so beautifully (most of the time).

This weekend we took them to soft play. We all genuinely enjoyed ourselves. Andy and I were proud and delighted to watch their confidence in trying new activities. Presley fearlessly investigated the entire area and took himself off in search of slides and trampolines. Cash needed a little more assistance, but both boys had huge smiles on their faces and bright pink cheeks.

They are less confident dealing with other children. We watched two older boys attempting to get them to hand over their Little Tykes cars. There was no confrontation, but my boys silently held their ground. The older boys then rammed them into the walls in their cars. Andy and I both shouted 'uh uh no!' at the same time and the older boys sloped off.

Presely and Cash aren't the sort of boys to ram and crash their cars. They are more likely to pretend they are driving to Blackpool and park their cars at the imaginary Sea Life Centre and stroll off to see the 'fancy fishes'.

I guess they get their gentle personalities from Andy and I. We don't push ourselves forward and are both more likely to hang back. The boys are always last to get a musical instrument at Toddler Group because they don't know how to push in.

Presley and Cash are at a lovely age. They have beautiful manners (most of the time) and see the good in everything. A trip to the shops is an adventure for them.

I recently took them to Sainsbury's. They always sit in a twin trolley and take it in turns to throw the shopping in. They quite often sing as we're going round. At the checkout they always say hello to the cashier and give a running commentary on what I'm packing into our shopping bags. On this occasion the cashier said to me 

'They're lovely boys, really old-fashioned'

I thanked her. We all waved goodbye. On the way home I thought about what she said and totally agreed. I took it as a compliment. If old-fashioned means sweet and good-natured, then yes they are.

I wonder how long they'll stay that way?

In anticipation of them growing up I'm hanging onto as many lovely memories as I can.

This post was written for the Sticky Fingers Gallery. The theme this week is a memory.

Old-Fashioned

Imaginary Friends

Do any of your children have imaginary friends?

I think Presley does, although it is not entirely clear. He's recently started talking about an Uncle Dinky.

I read, in 'The Philosophical Baby' by Alison Gopnik, that pre-school children with imaginary friends are normal. She says it's nothing to worry about. So why do I feel uneasy about Uncle Dinky?

For a start he has a silly name. I mean, it sounds like the kind of name a man would give to his penis, as in 'Uncle Dinky's coming out to play'. Sorry, I made myself shudder typing that.

Anyway, back to the real Uncle Dinky, or should I say the imaginary Uncle Dinky.

This is what we know about him/it:

Uncle Dinky has ten eyes, three arms and four legs.

Uncle Dinky wears a black t-shirt with a monkey on it.

Uncle Dinky eats sandwiches, sometimes jam and sometimes marmite.

Uncle Dinky lives in the garage or the door.

Presley giggles coyly whenever Uncle Dinky is mentioned but refuses to draw him. The drawing above is Presley's first attempt at drawing a person and definitely not Uncle Dinky. I love the way the so-called smiley mouth is a straight line.

Perhaps the reason I am worried is Presley's answer to the question 'What does Uncle Dinky say?'.

His answer was 'Bongo bongo bongo bongo bongo bongo bong'.

Right.

Good.

Okay.

I haven't set an extra place at the table yet, although I imagine it is only a matter of time.

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Imaginary Friends

Smell the Coffee

This morning I opened a new jar of instant coffee. As I twisted I heard the plastic lid slowly peel away from the foil, then pop off in my hand. I carefully removed the gold seal - in one piece - and inhaled. I breathed in deeply. I adore that aroma.

I remember my Mum calling me every time she was about to open a new jar of coffee. I got to stab, then peel off the thin film of foil. I was allowed the absolute pleasure of the first sniff.

I don't recall ever opening a jar of coffee and not sticking my nose in. If Presley and Cash are in the kitchen with me they will have a sniff too, although Cash hasn't quite grasped the concept. He blows out, like a woman in labour who is panting as the baby's head crowns because she has been told not to push.

I couldn't write about smelling the coffee without considering its other meaning. You see, I had a realisation this week. I did wake up.

I've spent many evenings recently sat here, at my laptop. I have followed my virtual world closely for some time and sometimes it gets me down. So I have simply decided to spend more time in the real world. I went to my creative writing group on Monday night and had a wonderful time.

I want to spend more time writing fiction. Once the World Cup is over I would like to spend more time songwriting with my husband. I will continue to blog and focus on the positive aspects of my online life, the friends I have made and the opportunities to write, to take photographs and to laugh and cry as I read some amazing blog posts.

I am nervous about walking into Cybermummy on Saturday, but I intend to embrace the opportunity to meet the people I like, love, respect and admire. Be warned, I like to hug. I will most probably scream with delight when I see friends old and new.

Let's make the most of our time together in real life. Let's share a cup of coffee and raise a toast to friendship.

I wonder what my boys will remember from their childhood, when they are older. Will they open a new jar of coffee and think of me? I hope so.





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Smell the Coffee

Let the Dog See the Rabbit!

Let the Dog See the Rabbit!

Father's Day

"Shall I come over on Sunday next week, Dad?"

"Why?"

"It's Father's Day"

"Alright then, I never know when it is. Don't get me wine gums this year, dear. I've gone off them"

That was five years ago. Back then we had no idea it would be my Dad's last Father's Day. I unwrapped and ate the wine gums and then went out and bought toffees. Dad wiped away a tear when he read his card. It must be bittersweet receiving one card saying that you're the best dad in the world when, if life was fair, it should be one of three cards.

My heart goes out to fathers who will not receive the right number of cards and to those who will not be sending cards this year.

This week Presley and Cash made cards for their Daddy and their Grandad (Andy's Dad). In fact, they made cards and decorated envelopes every day. Who am I to stop their creativity and enthusiasm? They chose presents too when we were out shopping. I asked them to think of things that Daddy and Grandad would like. They haven't quite grasped that concept as they chose gifts that they would like, but don't we all?!

I looked at the wine gums, but didn't buy any.



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Father's Day