Wednesday 25 July 2012

This Time Last Year...

...I was at the Caerleon Writers' Holiday awaiting the birth of Blodwyn Bubaloo, as he was then known. I'm back in Caerleon again this year, with its inspiring courses, lovely people and lush location, safe in the knowledge that I'm not missing out on the first birthday party of my 'nipote'. How kind of him to hang on last year so his nonna could enjoy her writerly time away!

I'm hoping, with him having an August birthday, that most of LHG's future parties will be sunny. A bit much to ask in the UK I know, especially when experience of my own children's parties has taught me this won't necessarily be the case.

LHG's mummy, Giovanna, with a birthday at the end of February, has naturally seen some glum weather on her special day. One year it snowed so heavily that her grandparents were almost trapped at our house. Another year it was so sunny and warm that we sat on the beach at Littlehampton.

Uncle Peter, who's birthday is at the end of May, probably had as many rainy birthdays as he did sunny ones.

Uncle Jack and Aunty C were surprisingly lucky with their September birthdays. One year, we hired a bouncy castle at the weekend in between their birthdays. Jack's nine year old friends occupied it for the afternoon. C's 17/18 year old friends made an evening of it. Later they also made a night of it with their sleeping bags, so mild was the weather.

So, what to expect for LHG's August birthday? Heat wave or flood? Gentle breezes or gale force ten? In the best of years it would be hard to predict, but with the weather we've been having this year, it is certainly anyone's guess. Either way I'm sure he'll enjoy it, even if he doesn't know what all the fuss is about.

I'll let you know.

Thursday 19 July 2012

Recycle, Reuse...


…is a slogan I have on a T shirt from many years ago. Not that I own the whole thing anymore. I cut out the slogan along with the pattern, intending to sew it on to another T-shirt when the original one got shabby – in the spirit of the slogan itself.

Needless to say, like many sewing and knitting projects I have tucked away, it has not yet been accomplished. One day.

However, it’s a slogan that’s come into its own since the birth of LHW. I wrote earlier of Trigger’s Moses basket and the eco nappies, but all sorts of other things have been unearthed from storage: baby T-shirts, trousers, shorts, vests, a huge bag of tiny socks (amazingly all in pairs), and so it goes on. There are also toys: Panda, Pooh Bear, a xylophone drum, shape sorter, cuckoo clock, Webster the spider, Clatterpillar…

And that’s before we even get on to the books. Currently we only have the baby books out, simple versions of Winnie the Pooh and Thomas the Tank Engine among them. But for later, we have at least 500 (yes, 500!) children’s books on a bookcase on the landing. Can you tell I was keen on my children reading?

LHW takes great delight in turning the pages of his board books though he’s only interested in the pictures as yet. But soon will come a time when we can introduce him to our own children’s favourites: Mog the Cat, Postman Pat, Meg and Mog, Mrs Elephant and her brood, and oh so many more.

I used to do all the voices when my children were little, from a cackly Meg the witch through to Welsh accents in Ivor the Engine based on my great-gran’s (and so, in fact, from the wrong end of Wales!). My daughter C told me recently that whenever she read through her old books, she always heard me doing the voices in her head.

So, very soon, not only will I be reusing the books with dear little LHG, but I’ll be reusing my old voices. I only hope I’m not too out of practice. I’m sure Giovanna will be keen for him to get to know her own favourite book as a tot, Baby Goz by Steve Weatherill.

‘Are you my mar-my?’ Ahh.




Wednesday 11 July 2012

Birdy Birdy Num Nums!


A few days ago, Giovanna and I took LHG out at lunch time, holing up at a
department store café. He was quite happy in a high chair all the time he was eating,
but on this occasion he’d got through his jar of food very quickly, and once he’d
finished, he was done. Trouble was, we hadn’t finished. How to keep him occupied?
His interest in the piece of rice cake only lasted so long. Then I remembered, I’d just
bought him one of those pull back toy vehicles, in this case a VW camper van. Since
he was sitting at the end, Giovanna and I took turns to set it off across the width of
the table, provoking giggles from him with each lap. It gave us time to finish our
sandwiches and coffee before he was once more moaning to be set free.

So far, LHG’s meal-time problems have been those of boredom when he’s
finished, rather than the food presented to him. With one exception.
On Saturday, Pa and I were in charge for the day as usual. LHG had eaten
earlier, but we hadn’t had time until we sat down to watch Wimbledon. LHG, seeing I
had something interesting, climbed onto the settee and crawled over to me,
eyeballing my sandwich of cheese and lamb’s lettuce. There was a piece of the
lettuce hanging over so I lifted it up and offered it to him. He knelt up, took it, gave it
a look of disgust and shook it onto the floor. I offered him another bit. Same
reaction. Next thing I knew, he’d lifted the top layer of bread off one of my
sandwiches and it was heading for his mouth! Retrieving it from him, I offered him a bit of
crust, and he seemed content with that.

I guess all children have some foodstuff they’re not going to be fond of. My own
children were pretty good at eating most things, but they all had their bĂȘte noirs.
Aunty C couldn’t stand baked beans and, although she liked banana flavour, didn’t
like the texture. Giovanna, on the other hand, was known as ‘Giovanna the banana
queen’. However, she couldn’t abide even one single pea on her plate. Uncle Peter
never had much time for cheese, unless it was melted or mozzarella. Uncle Jack
disliked eggs. When they were tiny, both their grandpa TC and their grandpa Gwil
spent mealtimes trying to coax them all to eat the things they disliked. Grandpa TC’s
approach was to eat the offending food and say, ‘Mmm, birdy birdy num nums!’
Grandpa Gwil’s, a similar approach, was to proclaim ‘Yummers!’ each time they
said, ‘Yuck!’

Time will tell if LHG’s food hangups will be any more serious than lamb’s lettuce.
If so, a different tack may be needed from that taken by his great-grandfathers,
since, despite their efforts, all their grandchildren’s food dislikes are pretty much
intact!

Mmm, think I fancy a cheese and pea omelette with baked beans. Yummers!