Playing Nicely

My children have a long (well, long-ish, they’re only young still) tradition of fighting.  I thought that the fighting would come when they were a bit older, say 5 and 7.  These were numbers randomly plucked from the air, not the result of any proper research.  I realised that these numbers might be a touch unrealistic but I was still surprised that they fought over things pretty much as soon as the boy could move around and claim things for his own.

I’ve noticed a change in the air recently.  A certain “entente cordiale” if you like.  It has only been for very brief periods of time though, not a real break-through in relations.

Until today.  Today the girl demanded that the boy sit on her lap, be cuddled and play trains.  I expected him to submit to this for approximately 75 seconds and then get up, nick the train and probably whack her around the head with it on his way to the other side of the room.

Imagine my surprise when they sat like this long enough not only for me to notice it but to get the camera down, take off the lens cap, sit down in a strategic location and start taking pictures.  On top of that they even look cheerful.

Usually by the time my arm is reaching up for the camera they’ve stopped what they’re doing and either wandered away from each other or started beating each other up.

Sweet Moo-sic

We went to the Ben & Jerry’s Sundae Festival at Clapham Common yesterday.  There was music, ice cream, a bar and a children’s area with a bouncy castle – all of my family are catered for in that little lot.  We had a great day, the kids enjoyed it and I am now on the look out for more child friendly festivals in the London area.  If you know of any (and I realise I’m targeting one, maybe two, of my readers here) please let me know.

Here’s the boy looking suitably festival-y and happy.

On Tuesday I posted about our hollybush and its occupants.  The husband spotted the Sparrowhawk just before lunch today.  He was darting in and out of the hollybush and finally emerged triumphant (the Sparrowhawk, not the husband).

Thank you, the husband, for letting me use this shot.

Competition

I’m not a self-confident person.  To be brutally honest, I don’t think I’m very good at anything much and it takes a lot of being told by other people before I start to think that there might be something in what they say (I also spend a lot of time thinking that they’re just being kind although I’m always slightly perplexed as to why they would do that for me).

One of the things that has been commented on recently, because of this blog, is my photography.  I think my pictures are fairly pedestrian (although I have taken a couple in the last 2 years that I really like) compared to photographs that I see on other peoples blogs.  Enough comments have been made, however, that I began to think that maybe more than just a couple were good.  Finally, the lovely, and very talented, Gawdess over at Gawdess’s Viewfinder 365 suggested that I enter a photograph (pic is at the end of a very long post) into a competition.

I hummed and haa’d about it for quite some time and eventually entered a different picture into a competition where I thought the picture fitted the brief quite well.

The competition brief was “to take a photograph that conveys the beauty and potential of light in the UK”.

Here’s the picture (previously posted but worth another look I think)

Yesterday, after checking the website every day for about a month (although it feels like I entered the competition about 6 months ago), I got an email saying that my picture hadn’t won but that it had made the shortlist!  I was amazed and thrilled.  I was absolutely gobsmacked when I realised that I had made it into the top 11 out of over 500 people.

These are the winners and here is the shortlist.

Determined

We have a large hollybush in our garden which is home to some sparrows and starlings.  There are plenty of cats round here and occassionaly we see a sparrowhawk in the garden.  The sparrows and starlings must feel fairly safe in their prickly abode.

At least, they probably felt safe until today.

Can you see that brown splodge in the middle of the picture?  I would love to know how he got there.  Surely he deserves some award for his determination (and presumably fairly well pricked paws)?  Maybe a sparrow or two for breakfast.

Cars

Unlike the girl, (whose interest lies in books, fairies, pink, crayons, cutting/glueing, dolls, cuddly toys, dancing, sparkles, bubbles, sliding, etc, etc) the boy has very, very defined interests.

Mainly anything with wheels.

Normally he likes to push them around on the floor.  I was surprised to see him cuddling them.  Anything to stop the girl getting them I suppose.

p.s. – sorry I chopped your head off Grandpa.

Support Network

When you have your first baby it is wonderful to have a helpful, understanding husband, a supportive family, and friends who will bring you wine/chocolates/luxury bubble bath (delete as applicable) and tell you how beautiful your baby is.

What you really, really need on top of all these things though, are some people your own age who have just done or are about to do exactly the same thing as you.  Some people who feel as absolutely tired as you do.  Some people who also have really sore boobs (not to mention anything else).  Some people who have no idea what to do with a tiny baby either, and no intention of telling you what to do with yours.  Some people to discuss the foul and bizarre emissions that these tiny babies make without making them feel sick (or bored of constantly discussing nappy contents).  Some people to talk to, but who will understand totally if all you want to do is stare at the wall because that’s all they want to do as well.

I often mention my fabulous husband and lovely family (and in that I include my husband’s family who I feel as close to as my own) that I am so lucky to have.

I don’t often talk about the people I met through my ante and post natal groups when I was pregnant with the girl and just after she was born. This post is for them.  I am still friends with most of them.  They are the people that I looked at with a questioning look so many times and who looked back at me with raised shoulders, a tissue and a cup of coffee.

Thank you, one and all for everything.  For the ears, for the gallons of tea and coffee and for the babies that produced weirder nappies than mine.

Green Issues

Our year of minor medical irritations continues with more eye action, this time from the boy.  We were at LNFATR’s yesterday having a lovely time.  Some of us chose to spend a considerable amount of their time upside down, but each to their own I say.

While we were there, the boy started rubbing his eye and within about 10, maybe 15, minutes it was red and swelling up beautifully.  I phoned the Doctors and asked if they had any appointments.  I knew it was fairly unlikely, and as predicted they said no but that if I bought him down immediately someone would look at him.  He obviously wasn’t too happy so I dumped the girl on LNFATR (again, thankyouthankyouthankyou) and legged it off with him to see our, so much more accomodating now that we’ve had children, Doctor (actually it’s the receptionists that are more accomodating – I used to think they were a bunch of terrifyingly stern women but they’ve really grown on me lately).

The diagnosis is that he probably touched “something” in the garden and then rubbed his eye and set of an allergic reaction.  “Something” in the garden – that helps to narrow it down so we can try and avoid it again doesn’t it?  Anyway, we have a different type of anti-histamine for him and thankfully no eye drops.

Well Read

I love books.

I prefer fiction but will read pretty much anything I can get my hands on.  I can’t think, off the top of my head, of a book that I’ve started and not finished, I’m fairly indiscriminate and will plough through to the end once I’ve started.  Before we had children I used to read 3 or 4 books a week.  I would read at every opportunity and have been known to stay up through the night to finish a particularly good book (pre-husband days of course).

I used to buy my books.  A 3 for 2 sign in Waterstones would have me perusing their shelves and often coming out with 6 for 4 – pre-children not only did I have time to read but I had the income to buy books.  Even after a harsh cull when we moved into our house, our bookshelves were groaning under the weight.  Every shelf had it’s usual neat row of books and then more books stacked on top of and in front of the row.  I’d started to spill onto the other set of shelves.  The set of shelves that is behind the television and reserved for things like game consoles, a lava lamp, DVDs and games.

It had become apparent to me that something would have to give.  I didn’t fancy my chances with trying to get the husband to sell the lava lamp so with a heavy heart this afternoon I started the big clear out.  I couldn’t bear to take a picture beforehand – seeing it would only have reminded me of what I once had.

Here are my pristine, clear, although now that I look at this picture still quite cluttered, shelves.  Having the “throwaway” books in piles on the floor somehow made them look less.

The only positive spin I can put on this is that now I have room for some new books.  Not sure the husband will see it like that though!

Macro

I had a bit of a party here last night.  The husband was out with work so it seemed rude not to invite some of the girls round.  There were 6 of us, some snacks (possibly not enough) and rather a lot of Pimms.  It was great fun and lovely to see some people that I don’t see often enough.

I wasn’t planning on doing too much today and photography was at the bottom of my list.  Then I saw a ladybird sitting on one of the garden chairs in the sun and even with my shaky hands it seemed like some macro photography would be a good idea.

Obviously if I were any sort of photographer, I would have caught my reflection in the shiny wings but frankly I’m fairly gobsmacked that I managed to get such a clear shot.  I’ve cropped it but otherwise left it alone.

The husband pointed out this evening that our Orchid was abundant with flower.  It lives on the kitchen windowsill and seems to thrive on my type of plant tough love (which involves looking at it every now and then and thinking how beautiful it is but not actually doing anything constructive like watering it) and living in the path of the steam from the kettle .

Flushed with my earlier ladybird success I thought I’d try again with the macro setting this evening.  I managed the next shot with still wobbly hands and moving flowers, having taken the Orchid into the breezy garden (nicer background).

Just think what I could do if I were really trying (or bothering to use a tripod).

Tower

I was pottering around the kitchen this morning when I heard the boy say “ta-da” – something he does occasionally and which usually means he’s done something (that he thinks is) fairly impressive.

On this occasion I had to agree with him – tower building is always good work.