Well, this is a trial of a new thing for me and I’m not sure of how much interest it will be to a general readership, but I’ve been enjoying the Facebook ‘on this day’ function so much, I thought it might be nice to do something on our family life here on the blog which I can look back on in the future and see what we were up to ‘way back when’. So, without further ado…

It’s been something of a mixed week here at Chez Oxfordshire. The Man has had quite a bit of work to do on the car which means he’s stuck outside in the freezing cold and drizzle with his hand up the skirt of our family bus getting progressively more fed up whilst I’m stuck inside on my own with two whingey children, all of us suffering cabin fever and also growing progressively more fed up.
A family visit from Sis and her chap on Sunday morning should have improved things, but the house needed mega cleaning so, whilst the children were dressed and ready, The Man and I were…. not so. Nothing like greeting your (well groomed and childless) sister and her (well groomed, expensively dressed and childless) partner with your jimjams on and your hair scragged back. Classy! Still, the house was spotless.

My Uncle came along after they’d left and reaped the benefit of both the clean house and the scrummy lunch and cake I’d made for his birthday. We went for a lovely muddy walk and found The Boy a new climbing tree, as his previous one had been brutally sabotaged by a “mean cuttin’ man”. We came home to eat cake for tea and The Boy was read a whole succession of dreary tedious delightful ‘Thomas’ books by his indulgent Great Uncle.
The week progressed with minimal drama, apart from the bedtime where The Girl was tired and screamy so The Boy tried to throttle her, so I pulled him away, he started screaming, so I screamed at them both… it was not my finest parenting hour.
On the whole The Boy’s behaviour has improved of late. He’s expressing his feelings better when they get too big for him, rather than just lashing out. On the downside he’s less persuadable than he was which is really honing my negotiation and bartering skills! One of his best buddies, Miss A, came over for a playdate and after the initial territorial squabbling was dealt with, there followed nearly two hours of happy play being mummies and daddies with Miss A having a baby in her tummy and dressing the baby and The Boy putting it in a sling and taking it for a walk.
The Girl has been really developing her personality this week – where it wasn’t being taken over by whiney whiny teething baby that is. Her climbing is coming along a treat – yippee for me. NOT. The number of times I’ve caught her teetering on the edge of a chair, sofa, or even the table once. She’s worse than her brother was. Full of fun and mischief, her little cheeky, toothy grin makes anybody who sees it light up. We’re also getting more affection from her – she likes to cuddle knees, burying her face between legs, or ask to be lifted by raising her arms where she’ll nestle into you or gently butt heads – her version of a kiss. She adores The Boy – bounces when she sees him and they’re finally developing an actual relationship – with cuddles and everything. Could anything make a mother happier?

She loves dancing to music (sing her the ‘up, down’ ditty from Winnie The Pooh and watch her bob) and is currently working hard on her downward-facing dog yoga pose – peering mischievously at you from between her legs. Especially delicious when she’s naked and you can admire the lovely chubby thighs and derriere. Hats are a big passion, putting them on, taking them off, seeing them on other people. She often deposits one on my lap, along with other assorted ‘gifts’, and chuckles when I put it on me, her or the toy monkey left on the sofa by The Boy. “Hah!” is word of the week from her.
Tonight I put The Boy in the bath to wash the tomato out of his hair from where he was dicking around on his chair at dinner time, fell off and landed headfirst on the floor via his sister’s discarded lasagne. I started stripping The Girl off ready for bedtime and she obviously assumed I was going to put her in the bath too. As soon as the nappy came off she started bobbing and weaving, dancing about and gesturing towards the bath and making it as clear as clear, without the use of any words, that she wants to join him. What could I do? I dumped her in and she had a lovely time experimenting with bubbles for the first time, squishing them in her hands and watching them disappear. Frankly I’m amazed The Boy let her in after the last bath they shared when she let a little poo escape. I’ve never seen him get out of the bath quicker – he practically levitated!
Heartmelt moment of the week had to go to The Boy, this week. He tripped on the way home from preschool and mashed his thumb. Poor wee mite was wailing away, inconsolable, so there I was, The Girl in the Connecta on my back, The Boy cuddled weeping in my arms as I explained why we bleed and feel pain (to wash germs away and to make sure we look after our bodies, in case you’re wondering) when he looks up at me with huge, watery blue eyes and a wobbly lower lip and says the following,
“Thank you Mummy. You are a good mummy, for helpin’ me to know fings.” Then he snuggled into my neck and clung on, whimpering, until we got home.
This mothering lark has it’s good and bad moments, but that one I just wanted to bottle so I could bring it out and savour it now and then when he’s being a real arse.
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