Sunday, 21 April 2013

On first (and second) name terms

 
At a time when Grace starts to show form in her artwork, where her random scribbles begin to resemble a cat (with 'blue circles for the eyes' as she merrily reminds me), I notice a change of affection in the friends that she keeps. For a while at nursery she's been joined at the hip to a little boy called Jack, similar age, similar amount of dribble and tantrums. It's a good match. What was an innocent friendship has blossomed into kinship, with Grace becoming coy and hiding her face whenever Jack pokes his tougue out or tugs at her skirt. Asked who she has played with at nursery today, she'll pipe up with 'Jack', then 'Jack Barratt'. Yes, she is on first, and second name terms with her first male friend. We've been talking about first and second names lately.
Gracie 'Yongdale', as she says it. Ever so cute!
 
The Cat, by Grace.

showing signs of multi-tasking, we're getting her used to headphones...

Skimming stones at East Ardsley resevoir

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Making it balance


I'm tear arsing round Yorkshire in school-holiday traffic (which is a blessing if you read between the lines), juggling so many balls I'd be surprised if I could find my own arse in a snow storm amidst all the chaos. And yet when I walk in the door after the journey home from work, collecting child and Husband en-route, I put on the 'face' as I like to call it, and prepare a meal while supervising the painting of great works of art by the little one (which apparently include her face).

At the  precise moment I realise I'm burning the sauteed spuds because my back is turned to feed the dog and open the post,  I see THIS big smile of Grace - splashes of paint and joy across her face, and I think for a moment how it's all worth it.

(And then of course I set the alarm for 5.30am again tomorrow morning and I dig deep in the basement of my being to breathe in the joy and let go of the stress of quick-fire round that epitomises my Monday to Friday life).

Chardonnay? Because I'm worth it!

Sunday, 7 April 2013

Totes babe!

The new trend for Grace is the art of abbreviation. Mummy at times becomes Mum, Daddy becomes Dad and Daisy has now started being referred to as Days. At times. When she's in the mood.

Other abbreviations forming part of the little ones vocabulary are Grams (Grandma), dode (dody / dummy) and a non-abbreviation which is Daddy-baddy-booby. There's a story behind that one, Holly Willoughby and Keith Lemon off the tele implicated, and it's proving to be a tough one to shake off. All things considered if that's the worst Grace can come up with then we're not doing too badly.

Another trend of the season appears to be the art of likening ones body parts to those of others. Grace, apparently (so she tells me), has little boobies like Daddy. Not like Mummy's which apparently are much bigger and wobble when I walk (and no doubt will drift further south as the big 40 looms closer when I imagine I shall be able to knock said knockers into the waistband of by M&S support pants). Fortunately we haven't yet had to progress into the conversation about the birds and the bee's - Grace seemingly content to know that Daddy has an apendage she and I do not.

At 2 years 8 months, she's totes amazeballs.

Silent Sunday

The going is good to firm for the Grand National...


Friday, 5 April 2013

Easter fun

Short of things to say but never short of things to see and do, we spend Easter weekend with my Dad chalking off a few of the Yorkshire 'warm inside' destinations. Battling the snow which is still refusing to melt, Grace had a fun packed weekend with lots of variety and plenty of memories.

Maybe one day I'll find my voice again and start blogging instead of just posting photographs but everyone needs a wee break once in a while, so in the meantime, pics of our Easter fun...


Making Easter cornflake nests


Exploring the body-zone at Eureka!


Combining a love of dance, art and farmyard animals


Grace's painted Easter 'Mr Egg'


With Grandpa at Tropical World


Snow days in Halifax


Happy Birthday to Daisy-woof (pilchard, carrot & nut butter)

Friday, 8 March 2013

A breath of fresh air

Three weeks into being unemployed and the novelty is wearing off and I'm running out of things to chalk off my to-do list. I'm questioning my sanity and wondering if all that time spent trumpeting my decision making skills in the past has turned on me and taken a whopping big bite out of my backside. I forgive myself though as I gather holding a grudge against oneself achieves very little so instead I pack up the car and head for the hills, literally.

Albeit with the Husband and toddler in tow, I turn off the mobile phone and go tech-free for a three day trip to the Lake District, shoe-horning every essential and many questionable choices into the back of I car I only bought to fit a better buggy into, I realise my history in making decisions has been somewhat flawed. Nonetheless I stuff a bottle of red into the glovebox, set sat-nav to GO, and head off for a back to basics weekend with Grace, neither camping or glamping, but somewhere comfortably inbetween the two staying in a camping pod at the National Trust campsite at Great Langdale. How apt.

Revelling in the luxury of having a roof over our heads with heating when there is still snow on the high peaks outside, I'm gloating merrily at the soggy looking campers rolling out of bed the morning after a night of drizzle. Me, I'm suffering a different fate with Grace being scared of 'pitch black' of the night and the hooting owls that kept her awake and worried for a good hour in the night. We held hands a lot and she thanked me for saving her in the morning. Glad to be of help.

Loving the freedom to roam, Grace enjoyed herself and didn't want to get in the car when it was time to pack up and come home. She'd seemingly gotten used to getting water from the tap across a field, cooking on a camp stove and sleeping on the floor in a glorified shed. As luck would have it this is useful in the event I'm unemployed forever and have to revert to the simple life to keep our heads above water. At least I know we can do it.

We visited Windemere, Keswick, Ambleside and Skipton Castle in passing, each offering the chance of a coffee shop pit stop to fill up on a slice of tiffin.

It was a shock to the system returning to reality as we came back over the hill into Leeds and I realised I'd had three days to just live life with my family and enjoy it without worrying about the trappings of life as we know it. And Grace is back into her usual routine of nursery, ballet and swimming, reminding me at every corner that she'd very much like to go camping again Mummy so she can be with me.