Tuesday, 26 November 2013
Gracie Five years 23 months, Didi Three years five months, Bliss Two years two months
Starting Year One, She had this bloody awful teacher and it made her clam up. No reading or writing developments, tears at bedtime.
On the last day of term, the whole school dressed up as characters from Roald Dahl books.
Now you know my girl has never liked people dressing up. She clung to me in her crocodile costume, suddenly feeling far less brave.
I was desperately trying to persuade her everything was still the same, but her best friend's white hair was covered in a black wig and her heavily pregnant teacher was dressed as a giant peach.
Her bottom lip wobbled. Her hand clutched mine. Bliss meanwhile, trotted in, sat down on the story mat and tucked into Gracie's lunchbox.
I was just wrestling to get her across the threashold when the headmaster strode over, dressed as Miss Trunchball. Fake breasts, skirt and hairy legs included. He shouted in a high pitched reedy voice.
Gracie started screaming. Didi tried to look up his skirt. It was time to give up and go home.
Didi is thriving at pre-school. She has made a little friend. She talks about her all the time and wants her to move in with us. Her friend is quite a lot younger. I suppose for Didi, it's a chance to have a little sister who does not attack her.
On their play-date, they walked to the baker's holding hands and picked the same biscuits. They were inseperable all afternoon. At one point her friend needed a poo and Didi was right there to pull down her knickers and wipe her bum after. She is going to be such a wonderful friend to have. You can see it all there in her.
My RA is much better. You can read about my developments here on my muminthesouth blog.
The girls are looking forward to Christmas. Gracie is taking her three best friends Ice Skating, then to Pizza Express and then they are having a pyjama party. We have to talk about it alot.
Buddy is gorgeous. A soppy, squidgy wuss of a dog, but we love him. He does not mind when Bliss rides on his back, or shares his doggy biscuits in his bowl. He makes me get out walking every day. I have taken to sitting by the sea while he chases seaweed and bits of driftwood. It will never give me the same buzz that running used to, but it gives me something else. Peace. Time to think.
We bought two more chickens. I now know why it's called a 'pecking order'. Old chickens do NOT like new chickens moving in with them.
When I go up the garden to put the washing out they race over to me clucking and bworking like mad - desperate to tell me how unhappy they are and dob the other chickens in.
When they come out from the Eglu each morning all four have feathers missing. I imagine scene in the tight, stinking roosting shelf overnight. "You budge up, I was here first! That is where I lay my eggs!" "Say it to my face punk!"
James is really good. He is pretending he does not want to be Father Christmas at the pre-school fayre again this year, but we all know he does really.
He has been asked to be Father Christmas at the school fayre too. "He has such a great personality for it" all the mums coo at me, as he starts up a football game after school, using his balled-up jumper as a goal post. It's like that scene from Kes with Brian Glover.
He is falling in love with Buddy. He thinks I am asleep but I hear him... "Hello Buddy boy" he says. "Are you a woogie woogie woo?"
When I asked him to pick up some training treats, he came back with dog sushi. How can someone even be a snob when it comes to buying dog treats!
Anyway, photos here. Love to all