Little soldiers

 Here's Thomas, in the lead. He then agreed to take up the rear position after I explained that often the commander is behind the troops, watching the battle as it unfolds. (I admit that I have no evidence for this, but it worked.) Besides, I said, it's important to make certain that none of the troops are left behind. Thomas took this responsibility seriously, mostly. 

 

 

 Then we stopped--they wanted to sit on the bench. I agreed, with the proviso that they let me take photos of them all together. Iain usually resists having his picture taken, so this was significant. They were keen to have Lucy join them, too: I took her out of the baby Bjorn and let Thomas hold her. They are not ideal subjects, and I am not a great photographer, but we managed to get a couple of shots of everyone...though not all facing the camera!

 

Our shining moment as a corps was an incident of real teamwork. I couldn't take a photo, as we were all involved: Anna tripped and ended up with a Wellington boot full of water. The ground was saturated, so she couldn't sit down to take the boot off. Iain and I helped her to stand on one foot (which she can do, but not certainly enough or for long enough to get a boot off) while Thomas removed the boot, emptied the water, and replaced the boot.

If you can't understand why this is remarkable, you should spend a day with these children sometime. They're lovely, but working together in an organised fashion is not their strong suit. I was amazed, and so proud of them. We walked and played together; I had to be 'private mummy' for the afternoon. Well, a private whose job was keeping the officers in line. But the officers were good, and the rest of the troops (that's Anna, Lucy, and me) obeyed orders. So I think we won, if that was the goal. Win or lose, we had fun, and gave daddy a quiet living room in which to nap. 

I'm glad the kids had fun. At one point along the way, I thought to myself, 'they might actually remember this when they're grown.'

I rather hope they do.

 

 

Tea party

 

Here is Anna, hitting a developmental milestone. It isn't the first time she's set up a tea party for her dolls and stuffed animals. But it is the first time I have ever heard her offering (and pretending to serve from the large teapot) chicken and leek pie. 

 

That's my girl. 

Bedtime can wait

When you're having this much fun, why go to sleep? Too bad it isn't Friday night...

Bath time is fun!

What more can I say? This is a girl who loves the bathtub!

The extraordinary ordinary

Lucy has discovered she likes food. She'll try whatever everyone else is eating, if I'll let her. So the past several weeks have been a time of discovery for her: rice was a big hit, and so was carrot cake. (No big surprise there!)

Some days life with four children feels like--in the words of an amusing quotation that I didn't quite grasp before I had two children--'being pecked to death by a chicken.' And how! There is a relentlessness about it. There is also something magical about it. This week Iain played me his version of the appropriate music for the scene in which Batman meets the vampire. Thomas made a power point slide show about mammals--on Saturday morning, just for fun. In the meantime, Anna and Iain were busy creating a fashion show downstairs. Lucy never lacks for entertainment. We have a few of the baby Einstein videos the others watched as babies, but I think she's just as happy watching what goes on around her.

After all, it is pretty amazing.

Scarborough via Whitby

Walking to the shops in Bearpark village this afternoon with Lucy, I saw the number 48 bus, traveling towards Durham on the Bearpark Road. I know it pretty well, and could tell you the bus times from about 7.00am until 11.00am. Lucy and I catch the bus into Durham a couple of mornings a week. There's a stop just across the street from her nursery. Occasionally the double-decker bus comes at 8.02: we can't get on that one with the stroller (or, as the bus driver might say, the buggy-- a word that still conjures images of dune buggies in my mind). These are the sorts of things you pick up. I wish I could say the bus driver is always apologetic. Usually, yes, but every once in a while a driver will look at me as if I am wanting to board the bus with a crocodile. 

This afternoon, though, I wondered about that bus. The front of the bus always displays something involving Durham city (via Bearpark) or New Brancepeth (if heading out of town). Never before have I seen it say anything so wildly inaccurate as 'Scarborough via Whitby'.

At least I know where Whitby is, though I don't have any idea how to get from there to Scarborough. I guess if I were in Whitby, now I know I could catch the bus.

A broken finger

It hasn't slowed Thomas down too much. He did, however, break his left ring finger playing a schoolyard version of hockey. Nothing too spectacular: he fell down. So he was off school on Wednesday. I was glad of his company as I waited for Lucy's check up (just a weigh in, really). We played an epic game of go fish. And the best bit: when the only other person in the waiting room came over to chat, Thomas asked where she was from. 'Bangladesh,' she answered. 'Have you heard of it?' I smiled, and said to Thomas, 'What's the capital of Bangladesh?' 

Without hesitation, Thomas replied, 'Dhaka.' 

The look on the woman's face made my week.