In general

Sid has just recovered from the viral attack which closed down the Infant School for two days, to Beri's delight. He has stayed well, and even Sid wasn't ill for that long, but as it all happened during Saturday night, it meant many sleepless hours mopping up and changing bedding and nightclothes. Never mind poor Sid, poor us.

Beri is very much enjoying Forest School. I am extrapolating from the bounce in his step when I drop him off, and the huge smiles when I pick him up, rather than anything he tells me - by the time we get into the car, he has generally forgotten what he did that morning.

And Kit has been promoted a guitar class yet again - he is now playing with children who have been playing two years longer than he has. I am so proud I think something will burst.

Taking Stock

My darling daughter has found a new game.

As soon as I am paying insufficient attention, she heads for the larder (which is just to the left of the workstation), and empties every packet of stock cubes I have on to the desk. If she has time, she unwraps them too, and even wraps them up again, by squishing them hard in her little fists, so wrapper and stock cube become inextricably mixed together. I'm guessing she might taste the odd cube or two. Hmm, maybe if we invite you to dine, you should just forget that last nugget of information. Guten Appetit.

Milestones

Sid turns three today. We celebrated on Sunday with a few of her friends. She knew that Elaine, who was running her party, was going to be painting faces, so she decided to get started by felt-tipping a socking great purple line down her right cheek. Sadly the pretty pink hearts clustered thickly over it doesn't stop her looking like Bride of Frankenstein! There will be more presents and cake tonight at Aunt Julia's house this evening.

Beri started Forest School today. Every Tuesday this term I will take him to a local woodland where, with eleven of his classmates, he will learn about outdoor stuff. Birds, and twigs, and mud pies. We are very fortunate that our school decided to take part in this - the teachers all say that the good effects on the children are remarkable.

And tomorrow Kit goes off for three days on a residential school trip. Three days! He is wild with excitement. His year group, 60 of them, go off to a large house and get the opportunity to try lots of new things - archery and rope climbing and rowing and stuff. I've told him repeatedly that he can't go because I can't do without him for that long, and the look I get back is positively withering.

The Enchanted Pig

Kit and I were invited by Kit's paternal grandparents to join them and Kit's three spanish cousins for dinner and the theatre. Jane had booked a table in a tapas restaurant, and we were to see The Enchanted Pig at the Young Vic. Kit groaned about the choice of restaurant, as he insisted he didn't like spanish food. Thank goodness I gave up worrying about his eating ages ago. Meson Don Felipe was crowded, but the service was pretty good, and Kit just tucked in, devouring food he had never even seen before! Mussels and whitebait by the plateful, paella and prawns, and tortillas and olives. The only food left over was a plate of chips.

The show was terrific. Very imaginative, it was a modern sung-through opera which didn't stop the children from enjoying it hugely. A very modern libretto, with heaps of scatology, was guaranteed to appeal.

Kit finally got to bed at 11:30, having had a wonderful day.

Samsonite

Not the suitcase. Unless you are talking about a hard case . . .

Beri needs a haircut. Our pet refusenik draws the line at going to the barber, so historically it has fallen to Jeremy to play Delilah. Except now Jeremy has drawn a line too. I'll post weekly photos, and am holding thumbs that it doesn't head in this direction.

A couple of months ago, on a visit to friends, Beri became enraptured with his mate's half-size plastic guitar with lots of buttons. I seized the opportunity, and offered the bribe. The day he was able (finally! He was four for pete's sake!) to put on his own shoes, I would buy him that very same guitar. 20 minutes later, making our goodbyes, the little - darling - Put On His Own Shoes.

Maybe a Sonic Screwdriver will have a similar effect haircut-wise.

ps in the 20 minutes since I posted this, Sid, who is not quite three, has just learned to take off and put on her own T shirt. It's a gender thing, isn't it?

The Mind's Construction in the Face

I needed permission from her mother to post a picture of Rose, seen here with Sid, last summer in the orchard. They were born three weeks apart. Rosie is a charming girl, built on a frame slighter than Sid's, a bright, engaging and very giggly girl. She's also grown even prettier since this picture was taken. She too has two older brothers.

One afternoon, Rose and Sid and Beri were playing upstairs when Sid came down cross and upset. 'Beri's been hitting me!' she said. 'Come upstairs and tell him not to!' This is Sid's usual approach to any breakdown in sibling relationships. Rosie's rather different approach became clear when, hot on Sid's heels, she skipped into the kitchen saying 'Look! Here's a big stick! Let's go hit him with it!' Sid was instantly cheered up and back off upstairs they danced.

2007

A happy New Year to everyone.

Phew - that's over for another year. The decorations are down, the kids are back at school, and there's barely enough time to rev up again for Sid's third birthday, which she will be celebrating next Sunday afternoon with a few friends. (She's going to be THREE! NO!)

We welcomed Julia back from Thailand where it sounds as if she had the most wonderful time, packing her days with activity. The children were enthralled by her tales of scuba diving, lost temples and elephant riding. For Kit, she brought back a stuffed tarantula in a glass case! The thing is AT LEAST five inches across, and gives me the heebie-jeebies.

I enjoyed her tales of the (male) wedding guest who arrived wearing the same shirt as the groom, and ran screeching back to his room to change! And the bride just about managing to survive until 'I pronounce thee . . ' before fainting and having to go upstairs for a little lie-down - two hours long!

It's lovely to have her back - we all missed her.