WOW!

Can't believe it! I don't really care what your politics are, today is astounding. Bug and I are cuddling and watching "Baracks the Obama" together. The G-Snack slumbers away up stairs and the Scottish rain falls as usual. When 9/11 happened, my boss scoffed. She did not send the children home to be with their families. She did not collect the families at the center together to ensure all were okay. In retrospect, I should've taken the reigns, made sure the families in my care were okay, and hopped in my car and picked up Matt at work and held on tightly. That was a day to be with your family.  Today is another day, albeit with a different tone, to be with your family and I am happily with mine in spirit and right here on my lap too. No one told me that four-year-olds are so cuddly.

Lost

I have visions of always posting pics with the stories. But if I wait for M to post the pics, then the story is gone. So it's just words while the stories are there. It's on the list. managing the pc/mac/pic interface dance is on the list though...

So we went to Edinburgh this weekend for the Bug's birthday. We loved it. It was the best family vacation yet. On Friday night, after a day at the zoo and a shopping expedition, Bug and I got lost. Well, Bug was with me and I lost my map and my phone map wasn't uploading and there wasn't a cab to be hailed and what I thought was just up a hill was up a BIG hill....

Bug didn't whine or fuss or cry in the dark and cold and wind and rain that descended upon us. Not at all. He turned four after all.  No. No fussing for him.  And, good for us, my sense of direction was spot on and I got us home just in time for a long swim in the pool and a cuddly pj fest in the hotel room. 

And, embarrassing for me, my son's sense of direction is spot on too. The next day in broad daylight, he says to me, "Hey Mama, this is  where you got lost last night." It was.

Hottie

Today I went to Bug's school to be the "mummy helper." Bug thinks this is hysterical. Everyone knows mummies are dead guys in Egypt.

I also have a husband who loves me. He loves me enough to call me "sweetie, sugar, love, honey..." He also calls me hottie. 

The girls in Bug's class are turning 4 and 5 and two of those girls, the ring leaders, are quite interested in weddings. Their aunties and cousins apparently had the prettiest dresses on at their respective weddings this summer. Bug was in Larkie's wedding this summer. He knew what they were talking about and was CHOSEN.

So, Bug went along with the very girlie wedding thing. Afterwards, Bug said, "Come on Hottie, it's time to dance." Because that's what Bug liked best at Larkie's wedding.  The very proper little bride stomped her foot, "I'm not hottie! Are you hottie!?" I think something got lost in the translation because they small wedding party decided that Bug had a fever and shuttled him to the make-shift hospital in the corner of the dress-up area. (I told you I understand about 2/3 of what people say to me here...) Bug was a bit perplexed and very disappointed that there wouldn't be any dancing and only thermometers and shots and medicine. Bug decided a game of monster chase would be the best exit. It was.

Afterward I asked Bug about his day.  "Mom," he wiped his brow as if the following might take a lot of explaining and if I could just show a bit of patience..."you don't call anyone Hottie unless you mean it. Serious."

 

The Scary Bits

We went to see The Tale of Desperaux today, Bug and I.

I have a strong respect for Waldorf education, though we do not practice it ourselves. I do protect my children from a lot of media and how we watch a story together is also important to me. But, I digress. On the other side of this Waldorf pull is the fact that I have dealt with Bug in life/death situations due to the severity of his allergies and it always taken by surprise. This experience with Bug has shaped my parenting to be much more practical than most parents I run across. Movies? Drinking toilet water? Games? Swear words? Where do babies come from? These are all things I can handle and want to handle because my son dying is something that has been tangible and something I just, well, I just won't even finish this sentence...

So on the wall there were posters for a very scary movie. The posters had a mask and smoke pictured and when I saw them, I thought, "Right, how do I deal with this one?" The pictures were terrifying for me and all I wanted was an afternoon at a sweet movie with my son. Bug looked at the scary poster and only commented on the letters he knew on the poster. That's it. Then, during the movie, the things that scared him were things that surprised me. Things like the King's sadness, the princess' anger, the mouse falling... I was surprised to find that there is also a motif within the film on fear and how it is learned. Bug has not learned to fear scary nameless things. He knows in his heart that the biggest scares are the real ones, the ones that deal with the lives of your loved ones. Not the imaginary ones dreamed up on some Hollywood set.

I'm learning a lesson from my son. oooo look at the empty mask in smoke....ooooo...Really? Please, Hollywood. Please. There aren't any letter M's at all on the poster...

candy cane

Candy canes are hard to come by, vegan or otherwise, in the UK. They're marketed as the oldworld goodie in the States, but it's not true. I found one out of the way bar that had them at the till, but that's about it.  The bar didn't have the ingredients, so....

We hung vegan candy canes sent by Nana and Bopa in AZ on the tree.  Really, really fun and easy and nice. I'm letting the kids eat them, essentially, for dinner tonight.  It makes me feel like Santa is real.  No harm, no foul should be ammended to little harm, no foul.