Ben with his Christmas pressie.

He’d heard an advert for the new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie and had his heart set on it. How bad could it be? A year ago we went to a £1 showing of Megamind and came away as huge fans. For a kids movie it didn’t dumb down the complexity of relationships and morals (the superhero remains good despite taking a selfish decision to retire, Megamind is bad but has a good side to him at the same time), it had characters you really related to and a great sound track.

Please make a law to stop them EVER singing again.

Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked was not like Megamind at all. The only multifaceted character was a minor irritant to the protagonist called Ian who ultimately was good but had some bad features (and retained these). The anti-hero was a woman who started out as a ditzy (vaguely irresponsible) friend, bizarrely became evil and obsessed with treasure and quickly stopped being evil. The paper-thin plot and poorly developed characters could be forgiven as young children aren’t serious movie critics (although even my young ones prefer a more developed and interesting character like Megamind) if it wasn’t for the sound track.

I decided that my unruly four year old could do with some attention to himself instead of having to shout over Ciaran for attention (Ciaran has a day with me every week while Ben goes to school). So far we’ve been very busy.

Yesterday we had to drive to Daddy’s office to get my bank card before heading to Milton Keynes for a walk around the theatre district and lunch at TGI Friday’s – a fruit smoothie and cheese ‘n’ bacon burger for Ben, a southwestern burger and diet coke for me. I even treated my little tot to a pudding. The it was back into the car and off to Joseph’s at Broughton to get our hair cut. Ben bounced around flirting with the hairdressers and eventually managed to sit still long enough to get his hair cut (sorry to poor Jo who had a real challenge with him).

Home to have a snack and watch Shrek Forever After before I headed off to get Ciaran from Nursery.

Today we drove Daddy to work (its his Christmas lunch and apparently they may/ probably / definitely go to the pub afterwards) I then drove Ben to the town centre and walked along Bedford embankment. We saw the weir and sluice gates, walked over the old bridge several times, kicked leaves into the river and then headed back to town to go to Gunns Bakery – we’d walked for over 90 minutes and his little legs needed some petrol! As Ben needed the loo he even got to go inside the College, meet some of my colleagues and see my office.

I’m knackered! I’ve had to remember how sluice gates as flood defence, explain why a cox is needed in rowing, identify different kids of duck and explain the history of a band stand and it isn’t even lunch time yet! On the positive side his behaviour is suddenly MUCH better, he is able to chat to me without trying to rush before Ciaran demands attention and we are going to either spend the afternoon practising his flash cards and drawing or making a gingerbread nativity. Ciaran is having a good time at nursery making cakes and Ben is getting some time to call all the shots.

Merry Christmas to everyone.

first day at school

From a tired mum:

1. Pick up is different – a couple of teachers to 30 kids means you don’t stand and chat about what they ate and how they blew their nose like the nursery teachers (with 8 kids to 2 teachers) encourage.

2. Children tell you very little. Who knows what really happens? I certainly don’t.

3. Mysterious things appear in book bags – a reading record with no instructions as to whether I record things he reads (nothing yet) or things I read to him (the book will fill up very quickly!).

4. My terrible panic and guilt at not having paid up for the pre and after school session by the end of summer term was pointless – half the Mum’s hadn’t even signed up on the first day and I joined a long queue of parents signing up or paying up.

5. All the other Mums seemed to know what PE kit was needed. I collared the teacher this morning and will now be heading to town for white tops, black shorts and plimsolls.

From a little boy

1. Packed lunches are nice. You can have dairylea dunkers.

2. You aren’t supposed to go in the toilet with a big sign on it – it’s broken.

3. There are two other Bens at school.

4. You can choose your pudding at lunch time and yesterday all of my friends had a  different pudding! I had watermelon.

5. We got brioche as a snack at after school club.

6. If you fall over on grass its OK. If you fall head first on gravel it hurts.

7. Somehow Mummy knows what I have for school dinner each day – she must climb into the windows to watch me eat (actually I have a copy of the menu but I like the idea of me climbing in windows).

All in all it’s OK. It’s walking distance so currently I walk the kids to Ben’s school, walk back with Ciaran and drive him to nursery but to make life easier Ciaran will soon leave the marvellous Fordfield at Ruxox nursery and start at a nursery next to Ben’s school.

Watch this space for the exciting world of phonics and more school boy scrapes and bumps.

Not quite it seems. My boys are both growing up too quickly, so quickly in fact that with a nearly full-time job, professional studying, mountains of laundry and bizarre questions to answer I haven’t touched my blog for ages. One slightly sad side effect of the kids growing up is the youngest one has started calling me by my first name.

Nothing wrong with that per se (I’ve varied between first names and Mum and Dad for my parents since my teens) but it feels odd for a two year-old to look at me and see not just his Mummy who used to be the centre of his world but an individual with a name, like his friends and nursery teachers. Just to rub in the whole growing up too quickly thing guess where he called me by my name first? On the toilet – no nappies or potties for this tot.

What are your thoughts on this? We’ve always said we don’t have a problem with being called by our first names but didn’t expect it quite so soon.

We got to the airport after dosing the boys with piriton, the queues for check in and security were relatively short and we got through to departures with an hour to spare, an hour to feed the kids a sausage bagel, coax a wee out of Ben and do last minute shopping before we were due to board. Sadly we were delayed by an hour. Luton airport doesn’t tell you if you are delayed and how much you are delayed by, they leave it to your imagination, which was working overtime.

After an hour of watching planes we were finally on our one and ready to go. Ciaran had a seat next to me, but after a scary screaming fit (more terrifying for people near us) opted to cuddle me with a lap belt on (second dose of piriton worked a treat) and settled down for his nap contentedly as we taxi’d.

The flight went much better than expected, the boys were happy to snack and read books until we landed (according to Ben it’s like a bouncy castle but better).

Luggage successfully reclaimed and car hire paper work done we found the lady from JJs hire who provided car seats at a fraction of the cost and let us follow her to our villa, saving us all from my navigation skills.

Thankfully we had paid for a welcome pack, giving us the essentials. As Chris unloaded the car I sat the kids down in the kitchen with bread and jam and a drink if watered down juice for their supper, then it was bedtime for the kids. Ben chose his bed, Ciaran was undemocratically put into a cot in the master bedroom.

Chris, a bottle of red wine and I headed out to the poolside to celebrate surviving a flight with two toddlers.

Playa Bastian in Costa Teguise, it’s a smaller beach than others but is in a natural cove so has much calmer shallow water than other beaches. Loads of fish swim up to you (if unlike my boys you can stand still!).

La Graciosa, take the ferry across the choppy strait to La Graciosa, you get a lovely look at the cliffs and volcanic lava flow before arriving on a very tranquil island. With no cars it’s a bit of a hippy retreat but was very quiet when were there. We had a little beach to ourselves and could sunbathe without worrying about the kids throwing sand at other people.

El Golfo. The tiny lagoon may be a bit of a let down but Ben loved scrambling down the cliff with his Dad to the beach. Climbing AND a beach what more could a three year old ask for?

Paella. We ordered this umpteen times. Paella for two with Canadian potatos and some bread was a perfect lunch for all of us. Ciaran preferred the rice while Ben devoured the seafood, in fact I gave him the squid and octopus I was to screamish to eat, by the end of the holiday when baby octopus’ were part of a mixed platter it was Ben who devoured them, dipped in ketchup.

A bucket and spade. Give the kids a cheap bucket and spade each and they’ll spend hours playing, apparently they were cooking soup and cakes. Little Ciaran kept trotting to the sea to get more water for their cooking.

Wine tasting in La Geria. Bizarrely Ben loved stopping off at a bodega, trying to count all the corks while us adults tried the wine, I am ashamed to say that my Mum and I let Ben have a tiny taste of the wine – just wetting his lips, but the thrill of drinking wine was definitely a buggy for him.

Cliff top walk to Puerto Del Carmen harbour. We frequently pushed the stroller down the zigzagging path and a few steps to get to the Marina. Once down there the kids (particularly Ciaran) were fascinated by the boats in gardens, blue marlins, ducks and bots fishing in the sea. It’s a slow walk as you have to stop and look at lots of things but a very beautiful one.

Chilled lunches. A plate of ham and chorizo, bread, eggs, salad veggies, cheese and mojo sauce was all we needed for a lovely relaxed lunch at the villa.

A few weeks ago the boys were running around nude (usual occurence in our house) and Ben needed a wee. Concerned that the sound might trigger a little wee from Ciaran – who had followed Ben into the loo, I gave him Ben’s old potty and told him to sit on it if he wanted a wee. He did – nothing happened, he insisted on taking it into the lounge and after five minutes stood up and shouted “Did it!!”. He had done a wee in the potty – just before his second birthday.

We’ve carried on with occasionally getting out the potty if he asks for it and keeping it low key as we are coming up to a very busy two months for me and a two week holiday, potty training is NOT  on our families calendar. Sadly Ciaran can’t read the family calendar.

Today after a  trip out him and Ben stripped off. Ciaran ran up to me to tell me he wanted a wee wee so I got the potty out. He waited until the potty was in the room, sat on it and wee’d. He refused to get dressed and carried on using the potty all afternoon – nothing on the floor. We even had a scary moment when he accidentally shut his potty out in the hall, had to find me in the kitchen get my attention and get me to retrieve his potty before he could use it.

We dressed him for dinner and I was secretly glad to have him back in a nappy for a bit of peace and quiet. He had other ideas. Other dinner he marched over the potty, took his shorts off and tried to get his nappy off. I had to give in. Again he had waited until he was on the potty before going.

So - having watched Ben potty train and then use the toilet for the last eighteen months Ciaran has already absorbed and understood the key concepts of :

• wee goes in the potty
• wait until you are on the potty before weeing
• tell an adult if you want a wee
• keep it in the potty.

Blimey! This is so far from the  nightmare of trying to explain to a confused two year old that wee and poo must go into the potty and he has to run to the potty as fast as he can, holding the wee in until he is on the potty. Only downside is that the bossy little Ciaran has decided he is ready now and we have very little say in it. Brace yourselves for a month of potty training!

Everyone from London, Australia, Madagascar and Bedford would come and live in our house.
Nobody could live in the garden – if it rains they might get wet, everyone must be inside.
He will push everyone really hard to squueze them in. Some people might need to sleep on his bedroom floor.
He will cook everyone pasta for lunch.
He’ll lock the back door to keep the witch in the garden in the rain (it hasn’t rained here for ages).
Him and Ciaran will get their swords and cut the witches head off.

OK – I’ll leave Ben to work out the logistics of getting everyone from Australia and Madagascar to the house and will wait for the rain he has promised me!

6:25am – wake up with stiff neck – decide to spend 5 minutes before alarm goes off unkinking neck.

6.30am – decide I deserve just another 5 minutes in bed after an exhausting night of sleeping.

6:45am – Get out of bed, stomp into bathroom for teeth, face, bath and hair.

7:00am – hear little footsteps – bellow for OH to take toddler to toilet.

7:05am – take toddler to toilet while dripping wet and shivering.

7:10am – give self a pat on the back for remembering contact lenses go in BEFORE hand cream is applied. Smug self-congratulatory dance is disturbed by toddler laughing.

7:25am – decide that there aren’t enough minutes in the day to look beautiful and settle for neatly brushed hair, necklace, dress and bit of bronzer. Start searching in drawer for security pass.

7:35am – hysterically ask if anyone knows where pass is. No but it was DEFINATELY seen in the top bedside drawer at some point. Empty drawer on bed.

7:40am – give up and have breakfast – find security pass on the bookcase where it has been all weekend.

7:45am – accept that kids deserve my breakfast cereal more than me and down hot black tea while finding socks and shoes.

7:55am – put kids in car, notice OH has dressed youngest in the same shorts three days in a row (they’re cute but all the same..) decide too late to care about hygiene and standards.

8:05am – drop kids off at my parents – realise left car keys in the passenger door pocket and car has locked itself. Stand in horror looking at car until Mother finds car keys on her kitchen table.

8:15am – drive through little towns and fields thinking wistfully about allotment and whether to squeeze some courgettes in somewhere

8:20am – feel sick as remember that the PA I emailed last week to set up a laptop and projector was not in the office last week and the meeting I need it all for starts today at 9:15

8:25am – try not to hyperventilate at the idea of not having a projector and being ticked off by a PA (I am terrified of all PAs – they are taught how to intimidate people too well).

8:30am – wrestle to get car park card out of tight purse. Swear under breathe at the woman driving slowly through the car park to avoid killing students.

8:35am – apply quick lipstick and try to run to office, feet cant remember how to run in 5 inch heels.

8:37am – hobble upstairs, fling office open, fire up the PC and pick up 3 bizarre voice mails. 8:40am – get cup of black tea before calling PA – its OK she has a screen and laptop arranged. Although it was very short notice….

8:43am – say prayer of thanks for efficient PAs

8:50am – discover there is a paper that I wasn’t aware of for todays meeting. Panic.

9:10am – sit nicely in meeting hoping it will be quick and that I’ll be at my desk by 10:30 to tackle the outstanding jobs

 11:00am – meeting takes a five minute comfort break.

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h252/byrdeth/paperwork.jpg

11:50am – meeting still going strong, defer some items and go through any other business.

12:10pm – meeting finishes. Head to office.

12:15pm – hide in office as two PAs politely discuss the replacement of A3 paper in the photocopier.

12:20pm – look longingly outside and wonder how long it is til the next holiday!!

I hope everyone else has a had a smooth start to the working week and month!