Silver Lining

There is, it seems, much amusement to be derived from listening to a small child trying to twist her tongue around the phrase "procrastinating imp".

So much fun, that it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy...

Snowy Sunday

We woke up to three or four inches of snow, this morning.  Not that you'd know it, now...

So I made a snuggly for the nibling's pram.

I also built a hutch, into which the guinea pigs (Harry and Ron) are now safely installed.  Let's hope they're warmly installed, too...

 

Harry	Ron

Sissy came to stay, bringing the nibling with her!  Hurrah! 

It's the first time I've spent a significant amount of time with a baby who isn't my own; where I don't have to get up in the night to feed and change nappies; or change nappies at any time of day.  It could catch on, I have to say!  Sissy must be encouraged to breed more!

The nibling is a love, of course.  Nearly the sweetest baby that ever there was in the whole world, ever.  If I hadn't had any of my own, he would hold the undisputed crown.  Even Dan and Daisy loved him.

We went to a farm park, where mostly the nibling screamed.  To be fair, it isn't the very best farm park in the world.  And he had a belly ache, as it turns out.  A combination sufficient to make the most laid back amongst us scream, you have to admit.  Dan and Daisy thought it was pretty cool, though.  Dan lay in a long line of children on the damp grass, and a European Eagle Owl swooped low over his head; low enough to ruffle the curls.  I thought that was pretty cool, too.  They both panned for 'gold', but were forced out of the medal line when I spotted them bickering and jostling the other miner 49ers.

I finished the Easter quilt - it is truly beautiful.  I suppose I should add some photos to somewhere....Ok, here it is.  Oh, and I made me a website, too :-)

It was good to share some time with Sissy.  We haven't spent a significant chunk of time just the two of us in ages.  It's nice to be around someone you don't have to explain stuff too, and you can just relax.  And she has even worse wind than I do, too, which is always good!

We all just wanna be big rock stars

I love the little insights into childhood innocence that my children give me.

The other day, in the car, we were discussing what we wanted to do over the weekend.  Daisy was outlining her plans, which involved building a hamster assault course as far as I remember, when Dan piped up:

"I tell you what *I* want...."

"You want a kingsize tub big enough for ten plus you?"  I venture

"No, Mum!! I haven't got 9 brothers and sisters!!!"

Silly me.

In other news, I have booked myself on a reiki course next month.  Very exciting.

At 4:30 this morning, my bedroom door opened, and there stood Daisy.  The very image of forlorn. 

"Mummy.  I think I'm going to be sick."

I ushed her into the bathroom and steeled myself to rub her back.  I don't do sick, really.  If I'm around for sick, I tend to just join in and so, in the main, I leave the children to it and offer comfort and cuddles once the purge is over.  However, last time I tried leaving Daisy to it she came with me, and I ended up having to mop diced carrot out of my slippers, and the small of my back.  I figured if I stayed in the bathroom with her, at least we might *both* make it to the toilet...

So today, Daisy has been mostly snuggled on the sofa while I work from home.

And the builders sawed and banged and hammered in the kitchen and Dan's bedroom.

And the dogs whined and snickered and whinged and yapped because the builders were exciting, and sunlight sparkled off their nice, shiny saws.  ("go on, cut her nose off" whispered a small, spiteful voice in my head).

Occasionally, my phone would ring and I'd have to explain some of the finer points of the resource allocation methodology to the senior Professor of Finance, or some such eminent individual.  This is an interesting experience, with the kind of background noise that's been going on here, today.

Dan's room is all but done - it needs skirting boards and a lick of paint.  He's chosen a pale caramel and a bright,  bright red which I think will look great.  I have kickboards back in the kitchen, which looks incredibly clean and tidy as a result.  I have a floor in the airing cupboard.

This weekend, we will be able to put the house back together again.  It will feel so minimalist and calm and still.  It will feel lovely.  I can hardly wait!

As it turns out...

The hamsters weren't both boys, after all.

Daisy came shrieking down the garden this morning, "MUUMMMYYYYY!!! THERE' S SOMETHING IN THE HAMSTER BED!!!!!!"

And indeed there is.  A wriggling heap of blind, pink babies, and a slightly dazed pair of parents.  Unexpected teen pregnancy; it's not a pretty sight, I tell you.

It's hard to know how many there are.  I don't want to alarm their mum by trying to count them.  I'd guess at least 6.

We've been and bought their father a separate cage, and he's doomed to a life of solitude, now.  I'm told that's for the best; that an adult male won't accept a new male companion, and indeed the reading I've done suggests Chinese dwarves mostly do live alone.  We might leave one of the girls with mum, I guess, so they have each other - but maybe not even that.

It's quite exciting, really.  In a wriggly, pink sort of way.

Account Overdue.

Dan:  "Muu-hu-uuumm???"

"mmmmm?"

"Do you buy my teeth back from the tooth fairy?"

My synapses spark, and fizzle into action.  He must have found the secret pot of teeth.

"Yes.  Why?"

"Well, could I give you my tooth, and you give me a pound, and then she can owe *you* money for a change?"

This weekend, my eldest child left home.

For the last couple of years, I've watched her blossom from a confident but slightly gawky schoolkid into a confident and less gawky young woman.  She found a lovely group of friends when we moved down here, and somehow managed to stay close with all her old Manchester friends, too.  She has grown up and explored my boundaries, and been a source of joy.  She has also got royally on my tit-ends from time to time, and been the cause of much frustration, a little anger and some pain.

I have been ready for her to leave home for months.  Sometimes I've felt it's overdue.  Past time.  Go now, please.  She's been ready to go, too, I think.  Some last minute nerves; collywobbles related to having to cook for herself and going to a different Uni than her boyfriend.

And yet on Saturday morning, I found myself lying in bed and sobbing.  Go.  Leave home.  Just not *quite* yet, please.  Turns out I maybe wasn't quite so ready as all that, after all.

Nonetheless, we loaded the car until it creaked at the seams, and drove her over to Leicester, making excuses to stop along the way and linger (at least, I was making excuses; she, quite wisely, was using the opportunity to get me to buy her stuff.  Towels.  Stationery.  Last minute non-necessities). We carried her bags and boxes up to her room (haven't student rooms got *bigger* in the last 20 years?!!).  We took her to Morrisons and bought her more stuff - to the open incredulity of one of her new flatmate's parents: "you got her *more*??? On top of the stuff you already brought????"

And then, eventually, when it could be put off no longer, we left.

She is, more or less exactly, what I would have wanted my children to grow into.  I am very proud.

Three colours contradictory

Enrolling student one:

I have enrolled anyway [including signing a statement to agree to pay all her academic fees for the year], but I wanted to tell you I have deferred my entry until 2008.

Enrolling student two:

I'm a second year PPE student.  I want to know if there's any reason why I can't re-enrol for my course this year, and at the same time enrol in a new full-time course in Denmark.

Me to Moo:

I've bought you a packet of condoms to take to University with you.  I'd prefer it if you didn't use them.

Has the world gone mad???

Growing old

What a transcendent weekend - Prince, nibling, and long lost friends.  It really doesn't get any better.  And yet, as I grow older, I find my brushes with transcendentalism increasingly exhausting.  I am emerging from zombie-like catatonia today.

Yesterday, Daisy started middle school.  She dressed up in her new school uniform, loaded her new (pink) satchel with new (pink) folders, loaded her new (pink) pencil tin with gel pens and blendable colouring pencils.  I don't have to take her into the playground at this school.  Indeed, parents are verily discouraged from the playground.  So I walked with her into the little parent-herding-pen.  I kissed Dan goodbye, and he breezed through the gate.  I turned to Daisy.

"Yeah, see you Mum"  she said and turned to go.

I watched her little back, weaving through the small throng of adults, hanging over the fence, and skipping across the playground to her friends.  I lingered, as the teachers emerged from behind the swing doors at the top of the ramp and organised the small people into wavering, wobbly lines.

And as I turned away, I felt a wet patch on my cheek.

My big baby goes to University in two weeks, and my little baby has started middle school.

Thank god it's only 8 weeks till the nibling arrives!!  My family needs rescuing from its ageing population!!