We were watching the headlines on a children’s news program this morning and the Wimbledon winner was announced.
AJ: Did Andy Murray win?
Me: No, it was someone else.
Bart: Yeah, Choccybox won.
I guess Djokovic is close…. kinda.
We have been talking baby sisters this morning. (Friends and family, don’t panic there is no imminent arrival of tiny feet.)
AJ decided she quite liked the idea of a baby sister and would help look after it, but Bart summed up her protests quite eloquently.
“I don’t want a baby sister” she announced “You have to feed it mush and watch baby TV and buy it stuff”
I couldn’t have put it better.
This evening Jay and I have been sorting out the living room. I am having new furniture delivered tomorrow and we had to clear out the old sofa and chair and have a wee tidy up. Neither of us are great at house work as we both tend to get distracted easily by reading an old discarded magazine or looking through paperwork to see if we may need it in the future.
We have an old wooden sewing box that once belonged to James’ Nan. When she passed away nearly twenty five years ago, we had a lot of her furniture to start our life together and although much of it has been replaced, the sewing box is one of the things we kept.
As the box hadn’t been opened in quite a while I decided to take a look. There were old finished cheque books, wage slips for both Jay and myself from nearly twenty years ago. A building society passbook we hadn’t used since 1995 which still had a pound and change in it.
In amongst all this paperwork was my old scientific calculator I used in school. I think I received it from my parents for my twelfth or possibly thirteenth birthday.
It made me laugh to see my name scratched on the back with a pair of compass as well as being written in marker pen. There was also the initials LFC etched into the front from the brief time I followed Liverpool Football Club. But the most amazing thing of all was when I pressed the ‘on’ button the machine worked! This calculator is 30 years old and it still worked! I have calculators that are only a couple of years old that have stopped running.
They sure don’t make things like they used to!
Bart is a great kid. Cute as a button, really smart and can chatter to
anyone anything. But the one thing she doesn’t have is good co-ordination. Her school gym report did say there has been improvement in this area over the year, but she still trips over as though her shoes are on the wrong feet. To be honest her shoes are often on the wrong feet, but we try to get them corrected as soon as we see it.
For example, when we take Artie for his evening walk I often take a large bag and scissors so I can cut some of the luscious long grass and bring it back for the guinea pigs and rabbits. As we were heading home one day, Bart asked Jay if she could carry the bag. “Okay” he replied, “but mind you don’t ….” Bart was on the floor squashing the bag of grass beneath her “…trip.”
The last time Bart slept over at Grandma’s she came home with a graze on her nose and elbow where she had fallen off a piece of equipment in the play park.
And now twice this week Bart has fallen over at school. The first time was a little graze on one knee but then yesterday she got out of the car from school with a plaster on each knee barely concealing the sores and grazes underneath. But this time it is really bad.
Bart’s knees have stopped working!
Yes, it seems (when someone is watching) Bart’s knees won’t bend anymore. She came downstairs to breakfast this morning and had to jump down each step as her joints were locked rigid. (They were fine when she was kicking her legs under the table) And the struggle to get into the taxi to go to school was pitiful. Fiona, the taxi driver and I had a hard time holding in our laughter at her efforts to get into the car. The fact she had been chasing her sister minutes before was forgotten when a new adult was around to give sympathy for her plight.
All is fine again now and the grazed knees have been forgotten in the excitement of a girly shopping trip with just the two if us.
I headed to the dentist this morning. The practice I use is about 35 miles away which is kind of crazy when there is one in the next village, but when you find someone you trust not to hurt you, it is worth traveling the extra
thirty few miles.
It has become, in the last couple of years, a little trip out for the girls grandmother (my mother in law) and I. After having my teeth checked, we head out for lunch, followed by a wander around a few of the shops.
On the trip home today I got stuck behind a cyclist for a few minutes, while waiting for the road to clear so I could go passed him, when Grandma piped up,
“That man has very little on under his lycra shorts.” she paused for a second or two “Actually he has nothing on under those lycra shorts!”
Me: Aaaachooo! Aaaachooo!
AJ: Are you allergic to something Mum?
Me: Yes, children.
Bart has been studying the topic “under the sea” at school and has been telling us for the last few weeks about the various creatures who live there and about beach pollution. King Neptune “visits” their classroom at night and leaves treasure in a small sea chest.
As part of the project, this weekend Sammy the Seahorse came home with Bart for a visit, along with a diary where his adventures were recorded.
Sammy got to meet a reindeer and paddle in a stream. Well Bart paddled and Sammy stayed high and dry. He joined us for afternoon ice cream and a cup of tea at Grandma’s. His adventures were carefully written in his diary and photos were added.
It was after Bart was in bed Jay and I realised we hadn’t seen the brightly coloured toy for a little while. Maybe we left him in the car, but no, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the living room, kitchen or playroom. I even checked the shower in case Bart had snuck him in there with her. Slowly Jay and I retraced Bart’s steps. The garden and trampoline… nope. Jay’s shed… nope. Then he then remembered Bart, AJ and Artie had been playing in the field behind the house. At one point Sammy the Seahorse had been hanging by his tail on the galvanised five bar gate. Knowing she had been playing near the fence line, we spaced out and began to slowly make our way down the field.
It was with huge relief, only a couple of minutes into our search we found the AWOL toy lying abandoned in the grass near an old ceramic bath that doubles up as a water trough when the field contains sheep.