Hello 2014

Our 3rd Christmas with twins and our 3 and a half year olds have finally 'got' Christmas. The absolute conviction that reindeer came and ate the oats we put out is something quite special. 

I had to put my cynicism aside and embrace the magic of it all. When I first started out I naively thought I would sidestep the whole Santa thing, to avoid the crushing disappointment you get when you realise it's all a pack of lies - and that your parents, the ones you trust the most, have been lying yo you all these years. But no. You end up getting swept along - and now there's always the bribe/ threat of "you'd better be good, or Father Christmas won't come".

Cynicism aside, it was very sweet to see the little cherubs enjoying the elaborate story & their presents. Even gifts from friends have been attributed to The Man in the Red Suit. Magic.

It was one of the few years we stayed at home - our first Christmas in our new house - and enjoyed a half empty London, bliss.

I was slightly alarmed, somewhat impressed when the children stayed up till after 1am on New Year's Eve. They'd only managed 10pm before then. But the pay off came the next day when we all got a lie-in till 11am. Certainly beats 7am with a sore head. Happy 2014!

Resolutions this year include (in no particular order):

- Blog more

- Leave work on time

- Pick up Pilates again

- Remove body hair

- Earn money

- Start new project in September when school starts

Now they're written down (not quite in stone) there are no excuses...

Lost a limb?

I'm back from my first weekend away from O and C and him indoors in 2 years. Can that be right? Seems a long time. Did I miss the little darlings? Of course. But mainly I enjoyed my freedom. These were particular highlights:

- read the Sunday papers cover to cover

- had a conversation without breaking off halfway through to deal with children (fighting, or getting into trouble)

- had a lie in till 9am

- steamed in 5 different types of steam, waxed, Jacuzzied & generally had spa treatments, hmmm, spa treatments 

Edinburgh is beautiful. Especially on a non-winter's day when you don't need gloves & ski suit to get outside. The streets are wide, the buildings grand (if grey), and it's overlooked by a castle. Tourist heaven.

Returning to the nest, I noticed the little ones had missed me - manifested in bad behaviour which wore off after half a day. In conclusion, the weekend away is an essential luxury in the name of sanity and not something I'll be leaving for another 2 years.

Not even fair weather campers

From August 2013 (but only just getting around to publishing it in Septemer):

Less than favourable forecasts have forced us to reconsider a camping weekend.

Not that we were committed to camping in the first place. Rather cowardly, we had said we'd meet our camping friends then leave for four permanent walls and a roof while they 'enjoyed' a night under canvas.

In the end, we turned out to be even fairer than fair weather campers. What does that makes us? Non-campers, I guess.

Sleep clock

The Gro Clock arrived today. It shows a sun for 'you can get out of bed', a star with eyes shut for 'stay in bed & don't even think about going downstairs and playing with the matches / keys / my purse'.

Night 1: I read the 'why is pig so grumpy' book which neatly explains why sleep is good. So far, going according to plan. 

Set the clock so it's 'sunshine time' at 7am (and cross fingers).

But wait, what's this? The 3 year old boy can turn on the 'sunshine' at the press of a button. And both 3 year olds love it so much they fight over it, occasionally unplugging it.

Two flaws in the plan. It's now so late that the flaws cannot be addressed. In fact, one flaw is so fundamental the parent needs to re-think the plan (or at least read the instructions). The plan is not going to work if 'sunshine' is something that can be summoned at 9.30pm - or 3.20am, 4.15am or 5.23am. 

Defeated parent slopes off to bed with no glimmer of hope for sleep tonight.

Night 2: It can only be an improvement, I like to think.

Sunday off

Look what happens when you get a Sunday off. 

Biscuits and laughter courtesy of my sister Yoyo. 

Thank you for giving us the first day off in 3 years (without plans to see anyone, do anything or go anywhere). 

It was amazing. Still in shock at how generous you are.

We love you xxxx

We are (nearly) 3

We are planning a 3rd birthday party. Hard to believe it's been 3 whole years but the diary doesn't lie.

Which prompts some reflection... what, I wonder, have learned in those 3 precious years?

1. Mummy is not the chilled out, laid back person she thought she was BC (Before Children).

2. If Caitlin screams at Mummy, Mummy will, at some point, scream back. Oh dear.

3. Oscar is 'Superman', sometimes 'Spiderman', occasionally 'Tree Fu Tom', and every so often, 'Buzz Lightyear'. Ideally with a towel hooked over his head which drags along the floor, adding to the endless washing - which, incidentally, is also added to by a haphazard approach to potty training. One day it's nappies, the next it's pants & sticker charts, no wonder we're not making swift or steady progress. 

4. Caitlin is 'The Dude'. Note: the above 2 points refer to self-appointed titles.

5. Sleep deprivation is a ruthlessly effective form of torture, able to turn a docile dormouse into a child-eating lion/lioness.

6. Oscar & Caitlin are best friends.

7. Oscar & Caitlin can be worst enemies who intentionally pick fights with each other.

8. Caitlin's favourite colour is pink. Mummy's is not. There's a compromise in there somewhere.

9. Children's entertainers are an expensive necessity... £80 for not entertaining 15 three year olds for 1 hour? Priceless!

10. Mummy's memory has been eaten by moths - she tried to book her one weekend away without the rest of the Family on the 3rd birthday which has been mentioned daily for the past 3 months. Moth balls.

For anyone intending to come to the 3rd birthday party, don't worry, I've started making lists. Lots of lists. Now I need a list listing the whereabouts of the lists.

Dream puppets

I've been waiting 2 and a half years (yup, since Oscar and Caitlin were born) to take them to our local theatre, Lyric Hammersmith, which puts on some excellent productions for youngsters. Finally, that day arrived - today.

As this beautiful picture shows, Arthur's Dream Boat by Long Nose Puppets is a stunning show. The puppets they create are gorgeous. But what this picture doesn't convey is the timing, the soundtrack, Arthur's endearing accent, his mother's hands and the expressive way they moved, in short, the sheer magic of the play - for that, you need to go and see it.

We loved it so much we bought the soundtrack and listened to it as soon as we got home - the 'Tipperty Tapperty' track which tells of the digital age, sung to the rythmic tapping of a keyboard - "no grandma, it's not just a phase" - is so true yet so clever.

I especially appreciated the 'meet the puppets' session at the end - where all the audience got to interact with the puppets (Arthur and a fish) and their 'hidden' operators. After inital fears of 'they're going to be mobbed' as the under-5s descended proved unfounded, it was a wonderful experience. Truly memorable. Even if O & C are too young to remember it hopefully this post (coupled with the soundtrack) will act as a reminder.

That wasn't my only local theatre experience - two outings in one weekend; unprecented! 'Money, the Game Show' at the Bush Theatre, a superb Shepherd's Bush institution, was also very good, though one for the adults - an education on the sub prime mortgage instigated financial crisis, dressed up in an entertaining enough 'game show' format.

There were fun and games with members of the audience called on to take part. Our 'team' had two especially talented people - a lady who could make a four leaf clover out of her tongue, seriously; and a guy who was especially good at blowing up balloons against the clock, a talent I'm sure he'd never really known about until that night. I'd have paid good money just to see him. I'm not sure if it was the determination to win, the knowing side glances to his team, or peculiar lip licking mannerisms, but whatever it was, it was pure comedy genius!