Fun times with an almost-2-year-old

- Orange juish peesh.

- OK, would you like this cup?

- No!

- This one then?

- No! No!

- Little man, there are only two clean cups, it has to be one of these.

- NO!

- Fine then, no orange juice.

- Wor-tah!

- OK, water.

(Filling of water bottle)

- No. No wor-tah. Juish.

- You want juice in your water bottle?

- Yeah.

- OK.

(Tipping of water onto plant)

- No!! Wor-tah!!

- OK, I'll put some more water in your bottle.

- No! Dat wor-tah! Dat wor-tah! (pointing at plant)

- Lukan, you said you didn't want water, you wanted juice, so I gave the water to the plant.

- NO NO NO!!

(Dramatic flinging of blankie to floor, lying of head on table, sobbing)

(Several repeats of asking for the water in the plant, followed by dramatic sobbing)

(Ignoring of said dramatics)

- Juish!

- You want some juice?

- Yeah!

(Finally, 15 minutes after the first request for juice, the juice is drunk)

(But now there's no time for breakfast)

(Sigh)

Not the best start II

He bounced around all morning, asking when it was time to go to school.

At 1.45 he set off gleefully, telling everyone we passed that he was starting school today.

He saw the crowd of parents and kids outside the school, fell quiet, tightened his grip on my hand.

We entered the classroom and, unexpectedly, my own tears threatened.

His tears fell.

He buried his face into me, and clung on tightly. (The only one to do so.)

I managed to get him to sit down, calm down, let go, agree I could take 5 steps back to take a photo.


It was time for the parents to leave.

I kissed him goodbye, told him how proud I was that he had calmed himself down, and that I would see him soon.

He cried again, but stayed in his seat.

I left.

1 hour 20 minutes later*, when I picked him up, he was absolutely fine.


This morning he smiled for a photo.


And then he was off.


* Don't get me started on the length of the Swiss school day...

Not the best start

So yes, today was the big day, the day when I would start the New Regime of being Up Early and Organized and everything else that makes a Good Mother with Clean, Fed & Dressed Children who are ready On Time.

It didn't go exactly as planned.

C slept through his alarm. The kids slept late too. Which meant I did as well.

Lukan didn't want to wake up. Then he refused to eat breakfast.

Téo dawdled over his.

Then Lukan wanted some orange juice, and spilled it all over himself.

We were 30min late in leaving the house to take Lukan to the garderie - by which time school had already started.

Luckily, school for the new kids didn't start until the afternoon. Even luckier, by pure chance we found this out on Saturday, instead of this morning.

(Yes, it seems we are the parents who Don't Read Letters Properly.)

So, Téo was at least on time for school.

Then...I bought a BBQed chook to ensure I would be able to achieve the New Evening Schedule of dinner at 6 and kids in bed by 7 (an hour earlier than before).

All I had to do was stick some chips in the oven and pick some tomatoes.

Even so, dinner wasn't on the table until 7.

The kids weren't in bed until 8.

(Although, since the kids haven't been getting to bed until 8.30 lately, at least there was some movement in the right direction on this front.)

I am feeling a bit like a headless chicken.

Change coming

So C has put Air on, and it's the perfect soundtrack to these past few weeks... languid, slow, melting.

It's really really hot. Day after day of fierce sun and blue skies and afternoon storm clouds that build menacingly but rarely bring cooling rain.

The unhurriedness and heaviness that come with the heat make it seem like we're still on holidays. Weekends snoozing on friends' lawns and paddling in luke-warm lakes. Weekday afternoons seeking relief in the neighbour's luke-warm pool. Evenings splashing in the paddling pool. Swimmers always hanging up to dry. Skin sticky with sunscreen. Kids' bedtimes not strictly observed.

Monday is going to be a bit of a shock.

For the first time ever in my life as a mother, I'm going to have to have myself and the kids presentable and fed and out the door bright and early, every day, to get Téo to school and Lukan to the garderie.

No more faffing about in the morning, handing the kids over to the babysitter at whatever stage they're at - eating breakfast, just woken up, still asleep.

No more lazy afternoons that lead to late dinners and late bedtimes.

Summer, and my easy ride so far as a mother, is over.

Good bye Air, hello marching band.

Yikes.

Grrrrrrrr

In the past few weeks, our camcorder, printer, and DVD player have all broken. All are about 4 years old. They are not used that heavily, or roughly. They are all (supposedly) good brands. And fixing them will of course cost way more than simply buying new ones*.

I resent this forcing of people to replace their electronic equipment so often.

Is a working life of more than 4 years really too much to expect??

I am very pissed off.

* We already got the camcorder repaired once, 2 years ago, for a small fortune. So this time, even me and my "repair-don't-buy-a-new-one" mantra cannot be convinced to fix it again.

In which a subclause is hastily attached to the rule on sharing toys

- So Téo, what do you want to give Lukan for his birthday?

- A Thomas Lego train. No, Edward. No, the grey one.

- OK then, I'll look for one.

- Because I can play with it too. I'd like to play with it.

- Well, but it's Lukan's birthday present so it's his to play with, do you understand?

- Yes. We'll share.

- Well yes, you'll share, but it's Lukan's to play with first.

- Yes. [nods earnestly]

- OK then.

- For 5 minutes. And then it's my turn.

The wheelbarrow effect

We are not always very good at arranging in advance to see people. When we lived in the city, Saturday morning would roll around, and we'd be like so what are we going to do today? And then we'd phone a few people and find that they already had plans, so we'd end up at the park or riding the buses with the kids all weekend.

Last weekend, Saturday morning rolled around, and apart from an invitation to friends' in the evening, we had nothing planned. Maybe we'll go there a bit early, we decided. Like, 4pm instead of 7pm*.

And then C went to his parents' to borrow their wheelbarrow.

-----------------------

He came back without the kids, and with an invitation to lunch.

Téo went with his grandmother to a neighbour's** to pick figs, and got an invitation for a swim in their pool.

After lunch, Téo's cousins appeared and wanted to come back home with us.

(We got home to find a friend had dropped in to say hello.)

V and A stopped by to pick up their kids, and were convinced that they could go with Téo for a swim in the neighbours' bigger pool.

----------

We ended up getting to our friends' at 7. Just.***

* Before you get worried we'll show up at your place 3 hours early just because we have nothing else to do, our friends had already given us this option.

** C's godfather's son. No neighbour is unrelated!! (Well, almost.)

*** The evening was lovely too - it was Swiss National Day, so after a BBQ the bigger kids and most of the adults walked down to the lake to see the fireworks and bonfire, following a lantern-bearing procession of children. There were throw downs - remember those?? And also fireworks you could light yourself! And the biggest bonfire I have ever seen! (Seriously, the flames were LEAPING.) Was a trip back to my childhood, before all these things were banned in Oz...