Sneaky girl, to a certain extent

Isabel and I are having moments, since we're currently together all day every day, of rubbing each other up the wrong way. The same moment occurs every day when I have to brush her hair which she hates because it's always really tangly in the mornings (mainly because she twists it in her sleep while she's sucking her thumb). Anyway, brushing is a torture for her.

Today it was all going well until we hit a big knot, and she got cross with me and eventually tried to take a swipe at me. Physical violence is a big no-no for me, I won't stand for her hitting or kicking out, no matter how cross or over-excited she gets. So I said she wouldn't be allowed any more television for the rest of the day. She agreed (like she had a choice!) and made me promise not to tell Daddy, who is clearly scarier than me!

Then, this evening, she asked whether she could have some songs after dinner. This basically means she and Husbandio flicking through the vinyl, and then dancing around the lounge to Blondie and songs from Grease. Husbandio agreed, and Isabel later came and found me in the kitchen and whispered "I'm doing songs with Daddy later so that I don't have to tell him why I'm not allowed any television"! Bless...!

Little bit of Chilterns culture

We had a friend to stay this weekend, and she's famous for not enjoying walking very much. She and I once went on a trek with camels through the Negev desert (we were much younger...!) and every picture I have is of her sitting on a rock with a bottle of water, or draped over the back of a camel. Needless to say, I suggested that we go on a walk that I'd found in a leaflet in the library, which takes in an Iron Age fort and is only about two miles from where we live. She agreed - partly because she's very amenable, and partly because I think she thought that since we were going with a four year old and a three month old that we wouldn't be walking long.

And she was right - we'd intended to do the short walk (2.5 miles), but even then we cut the corner, if we did 1.5 miles I'd be surprised. But we did have a lovely wander through the fort, which was very cool. OK, there's no battlements or anything of that ilk (it was 2000 years old, for goodness sake!) but two enormous concentric earthen mounds which were great fun to explore. We even went into a local church which we came across en route, so felt very cultured by the time we made it back to the pub for a well earned Sunday roast.

A cheating photo so I don't have to describe what an Iron Age fort looks like.

Beautiful Chiltern beeches
Isabel took a picture of a very enterprising snail

The tree was like this when we arrived, honest.

How did I end up carrying the baby?! Surely I did my stint!

I'm in love....

And the object of my affection? Bound to be my kids, and my long-suffering Husbandio, no? Well yes, natch, but also no. The new centre of my world, for the time being at any rate, is my new iPod Touch, which I've been lusting after for ages and finally have my grubby little paws on. And I can tell I have grubby little paws because I can see the slimy greasy marks all over the beautiful device! Needless to say, I have just ordered a case and screen protector in order to keep my beloved in the state to which it must become accustomed.

So far, I've downloaded Stanza (a free e-book reader, now I need to find some decent free e-books!), a London Tube application, an app called Flashlight (very handy for getting into bed without turning on the light and waking Emily up) and Twitterific, as well as connecting it to my Contacts, Calendar and e-mail. And syncing all my music, such as it is. And photos. Next step: get some ripping software so that I can put DVDs on, and watch Grey's Anatomy in bed - the ultimate goal. What a sad state my life is in. And now, Poddy and I are off to bed - last night Husbandio found me curled up with it in bed, like a small child with a new toy. Bless....!

Another day, another milestone

Yesterday marked the end of Isabel's first year at school - next year she'll be in Year One, starting Key Stage One, and really experiencing proper school life. Reception is really a bridge between nursery and school I think - next year, the work really begins! Finishing that first year has felt truly momentous - she's settled into the school so well, and hugged lots of the older girls goodbye as we left on Friday which was very sweet. She even wished the headmaster a good summer, which was very considerate I thought! It'll be lovely to have her at home for six weeks, although I'm concerned about the state of my sanity after six weeks of looking after two children. Still, Husbandio's got two weeks off in the middle of the hols, and I've already booked Isabel onto a trampolining course and a tennis course, as well as her usual swimming lessons, so we've got quite a few days blocked out already.

The other milestone came today, and that was Emily's three month birthday. She's sprinted through the first quarter of her first year, and even hit that pyschologically important 10lb weight milestone on Friday, much to my relief. She's a slow grower this one, much lighter than Isabel was at the same age, but just as feisty. She smiles at all and sundry, even toys, and is starting to bat things with her hands now. She'll be crawling before I know it and then the real fun starts - I can already hear Isabel's howls of "Mum, Emily's chewing my [insert any toy!]". She loves her little sister now, and I hope that doesn't change as Em grows up!

Emily celebrated her first three months with an afternoon at Isabel's ballet show, and she behaved impeccably. Isabel danced beautifully, and what she lacked in skill she made up for in sheer enthusiasm. She beamed through each dance, and skipped off at the end looking very pleased with herself - when I picked her up from the backstage area she said "did you see my show?" (to which I thought, "no, I've been sitting here for 3 hours but forgot to watch...!") and followed that with "was I brilliant?". Her thoroughly biased parents and grandparents assured her that she was - and I was quite relieved that it was all over, since I always worry that she'll get panicked and fail to perform. But I needn't have worried - she's braver than me, since I wouldn't like to have to dance in front of all those people! While the kids were great though, the best bit was the dads dance - five of the dads (including our next door neighbour) dressed up as Britney and performed in short skirts and blonde wings to Hit Me Baby, One More Time. Classic!

Surviving Sports Day

Another rite of passage for Isabel today - her first school Sports Day. Well, Sports Morning to be more accurate - the excitement started at 9.30am and continued all the way through to lunchtime. It was well organised, I'll give them that, and it had to be given that there were 84 races. Yes, you read that right, I did say 84. My heart sank when I saw the list, but things moved along reasonably quickly. The weather was more problematic - occasional bursts of sun but accompanied by increasing amounts of dangerously dark clouds, which by Race 80 decided they'd been pretty kind to us, and started to chuck rain down on us. Luckily Ems was asleep in her buggy under her rain cover.

Sports Day is the kind of school event that kids either love or loathe I think. Isabel seemed to have a great time although there was some confusion as to which house she was representing. She was in two races - a 30m sprint (in which she came third out of about six or seven kids), and a race involving hula hoops and bean bags which she won - much excitement! None of the reception class seemed too bothered about winning and losing, which probably added to their enjoyment - some of the older ones like they were taking things far more seriously. The parents were too, naturally, which is probably why there was no parents' race! There were a couple of lessons to be learnt for next year though, and I am recording them here so that next year I can check back and remind myself!

1. Wear layers. Lots of layers. I had a t-shirt and a cardie on, and I was freezing. So cold, in fact, that I had a hot bath when I got home after lunch!
2. Get there early so as to claim front row seat.
3. If raining, ditch the event around Race 80 so as to claim a picnic table under the covered area for lunch!
4. If unable to claim table, get good place under a tree for shelter from either rain or sun.
5. Slip liberal slug of vodka into an innocent looking bottle of coke. But remember which one, sending a half-cut small child back into school for the afternoon would probably not be a good plan!

Ready for the off (Isabel on far left with red band and pink hat)

Crossing the finish line ahead of the competition!

Size Isn't Everything

Friday is weigh-in day for Emily (makes her sound like a little boxer!). I take her to the clinic at the town hall, where she gets popped on the scales, and then a health visitor comes over and we chat about anything which might be of concern. For a few weeks now I've been mentioning that she doesn't seem to be putting weight on very fast, but no-else has seemed that worried. Until today. For the last few visits she'd managed a gain of about 4oz each time, but this week she only managed 1oz, which is really not very much at all. This means she's slipping from one growth curve down to another - she started life between the 25th and the 50th, but is now down between the 2nd and the 9th. The advice is to feed her more (every 2 - 2.5 hours, bloody hell!) or move onto formula. So, we'll be instituting a full on feeding regime this week to see if that makes a difference. And if not, then the bosoms will have failed, and we'll have to start mixing breast-feeding with bottles. Sigh....it's ironic really, since I had loads of problems feeding Isabel (very very very painful!) but she put on weight like a trooper. This time - no pain, but no gain. That sounds awfully familiar somehow.....

Apart from low weight gain being a worry in itself, there is a separate issue which is really getting on my tits. Pardon the pun. People stop in the street to coo over Emily ("what a lovely baby!" etc - which clearly I agree with). They also often say "isn't she tiny, how old is she?", and when I tell them she's coming up on 12 weeks they always look surprised. First I had annoying comments about having a small bump when I was pregnant, and these are being followed by similar comments now she's out. One day some unsuspecting soul is going to say something and get their head bitten off, chewed thoroughly, and spat back down their neck. At least I've warned the readers of this blog - comments about size not welcomed in this neck of the woods, thanks!

Small, but perfectly formed

Emily the boxer getting a massage from her manager

Worry Wart

When I was a kid I was a bit of a worrier - I distinctly remember spending nights lying awake before doing swimming tests, although quite what I was worried about I can't imagine. Drowning in my beautiful rose-covered pyjamas? As I got older I became a little bit more relaxed, although my mind does still have the ability to pick on a problem, make it much larger than it really is, and nurgle it around for hours on end. Can be quite exhausting.

However, I have become much better at putting problems aside until they really need to be dealt with (something, I may add, my mother still cannot do - the fact that I can sometimes do this makes me strangely proud, like watching evolution in action). Turns out that this often relates only to my own problems - problems about my kids or about close members of my family can still send my mind racing uncontrollably. For example, my dad's been in hospital the last few days with cellulitis, requiring him to keep his leg elevated and go onto an antibiotic drip. Until I actually visited him I had this terrible mental image of the infection charging around his body, and eventually some kind of amputation being required. Ridiculous, I know. But until I saw him I found those images very hard to shake.

Now I have a whole new thing to worry about. Isabel had both good news and bad news today. The good news was that she got her first ever school report and it was brilliant. I mean brilliant. Not a negative word to be said. Imagine my pride! Phrases like "This is an excellent first report Isabel, well done" in the head teacher's comments, and her class teacher saying, "Isabel has made super progress...I will miss her happy smile and ready conversation. Well done Isabel" had me grinning like a Cheshire cat. The bad news however was that she had her health check with the school nurse (finally!) - height and weight were fine, but she was referred to an optician, and also has to re-take the hearing test since she had "some difficulty". So now of course my over-active and uncontrollable mind has me envisaging her in NHS bottle bottom specs with two great big hearing aids on either side of her head. And even if she does need glasses that's going to be a pain in the bum, 'scuse my language, because she's bound to keep losing them or breaking them. Swings and roundabouts I guess.....sigh.