The Show Must Go On

Today was a significant day in Beatrice's life, as at the tender age of 3 1/2 she undertook her first exam.  So how does one prepare for such an event?

Well begin the day correctly.  No, not with porridge for breakfast, rather have Josie and Phoebe to play.  (You of course understand that that really means Josie, although Phoebe may be permitted to hold a Polly Pocket Aurora and sing "Once upon a dream").  I was informed, albeit with a questioning tone as I hoovered in preparation of this visitation that "Josie and I are going to make a big mess Mummy".  I am not sure whether this was a covert seeking of approval or simply a statement of fact.  Either way, Bea held true to her word when I ventured upstairs in the afternoon.

Our bedroom

Bea's bedroom

But back to the topic, "the exam"!  Bea was dressed in her dance uniform, regulation red leotard (which I put on the right way round unlike one of the other silly Mummys - whose error was pointed out by Gillian with instructions to remedy the situation) red dance skirt (Bea's second this year as I discovered that you really shouldn't iron them....unfortunately I discovered this about 45 minutes before her Christmas show) and "whiter than white" ballet tights with a seam down the back.  As per instructions she was wearing a zip up top and no dabitees.  Equipped with a backpack of dance shoes and hair grips we set out.  We had been given clear instructions to arrive at least 20 minutes before the 3pm time of Bea's exam, and as we slotted Florence into the last parking space at the town hall, we high fived our perfect timing.  The bun (another stipulation - as was the absence of a fringe) was hastily constructed in the foyer and initially didn't look half bad.  (Thankfully, you can't see the bad half)  It managed to defy gravity with the co operation of half a can of hairspray.

Buns R Us

Unfortunately, Bea was not summonsed to dance for "the lady" immediately, so the bun and clipped up fringe did not endure.  The "free styling" with Isla and wrestling with Max put paid to that!

I was very nervous that Bea would be seized by nerves when presented to "the lady" but as Gillian brought her downstairs after the tap part of her exam (a few clips lighter) she was keen to demonstrate what she showed the lady.  I vaguely resembled dancing and she was not traumatised (hooray).  Anyway, during the brief (30 minute) wait for the modern dancing part of the exam (heaven help us all!) disaster struck!!!!  Or rather DS struck.  


Bea had ventured beyond the cultish limits of "people connected to Glengormley Methodist" to talk to another little girl.  When I last saw her through the forest of legs, she was sitting with said little girl, who was playing with a DS.  I averted my eyes to ensure that Miss Evie's smile was megawatt (it was) when Bea deposited herself on my lap in tears with blood dripping from her mouth.  The almost clean tissue of healing was applied and Bea sobbed until Gillian called her for the next part of her exam.  I cannot fill in the blanks without witnesses, but I imagine that Bea showed rather too much interest in the DS which was then applied to her mouth.  Anyhow, the consummate professional, she ascended the stairs into the hallowed hall of the dance exam, with a tear stained face, blood smear on her arm and a probably a bloody mouth too.


Who can predict what the outcome will be?  I care not.  I am just so delighted that she did it!  The only scars left from her first exam are physical and not emotional.  (JOKING - she is fine)


So we concluded the evening with a little bit of dog rodeo and a movie.

Valemtime's Day

On Monday, while I was at work, Bea and her Daddy set out on an epic adventure to collect shells and find a Valentine's Day card for me. As always, Bea took great delight in choosing a "surprise" and struggled so valiantly to keep it a secret. 

Surprise!

Off she set to GB on Monday night where she made a lovely Valentine's present...incorporating colouring, card hearts and a paper doily AND including a mini pack of Love Hearts. She was adamant that the present was for her. Daddy and I could share the card, but her teacher told her the sweeties were hers. As I buckled her into the car, I twisted open the pack and read the first sweetie to her. "love ya" did not require any explanation! However, the following sweetie "heart throb" required the entire journey home to attempt to explain. Perhaps using the example of Mr Bloom being a heart throb was not helpful as this suggestion was treated to a tut and giggle with "mummy! He's not a heart throb, he's a gardener". I asked her if Mr Tumble was a heart throb ( given that most of her friends intend to marry Justin) and this idea was ridiculed also with a "No, he's just a very silly man". 

On the way to Rascals on Tuesday morning she told me that she had got me a lovely hanging thing for " family times" day that was on Thursday. Her delight was only limited by her sleepiness (it is a late night at GB you know) upon discovering that it was Valentine's day today. Armed with the information that Valentimes Day is a special day when you tell people that you love them she rushed inside! I'm sure all her mini chums were hugged, kissed and assured of Bea's affection throughout the day. 

By the time I came to collect her, she had created a lovely big card and was beside herself with excitement repeatedly telling me I had to share it with Daddy. I was also told again of my hanging surprise which I could hang anywhere I wanted, so I was totally surprised when we arrived home and Bea gave me a card and a lovely hanging thing. As Mummy unwrapped her chocolates and opened her card, Daddy unwrapped his and opened his card and Bea opened her card, bounced on the spot pointing out the kisses (little line with a stripe) and hugs (circles). The little fairy she unwrapped was treated with as much delight as a bicycle. All evening we all wished each other "happy Valentine's day" and Bea concluded the day with the statement, "I love love!" 

Me too.

Evie's 4th Birthday Party

Bea and I were in Matalan.  She spotted a grey jumper with a large dalmation picture on the front and concluded it would be perfect for me.  As Christmas is a time for silly knitwear, I agreed.  She then spotted a purple dress with ruffles, a satin bow and a big giant corsage.  If you are reading the description and thinking "my big fat gypsy wedding" you are on the right lines.  She fell in LOVE with it, so we bought it too.  As she proudly carried the plastic bag to the car she announced "this will be perfect for Evie's party"  

Evie's party was at least a month away but Bea would look at the dress in her wardrobe, stoke it and refuse to wear it because it was "for Evie's party"

Finally the day of the party arrived.

Having a party two days before Christmas can be fraught with organisational complexities (just ask Zelda!)  A perfect solution was arrived at.  The little ladies arrived to a room filled with brightly coloured carpet spots and snuggly blankets.  They sat down in front of Santa Paws and were silenced with bags of popcorn and bottles of juice.  Then a sweetie table was revealed and they pottered up and down to keep their bags topped up (and their mouths stuffed up).

They were spellbound by the film, shown in their own little cinema where nobody minded if you wandered around, chatted to your chums or snuggled in the blankets on the floor.

The Beautiful Birthday Girl

Then more food was brought in, this time hot food!  Again the little line assembled and filled their plates and returned to their seats.

Then all of a sudden, the atmosphere changed.  Possibly because the bright lights were switched on and a rotund gentleman in a red suit arrived.  He had a chat with each of the little girls and gave them a little gift.  They were so excited (although, Bea was slightly terrified too)

Then there was just time to sing some very Christmassy songs, have a group photoshoot and do some dancing before it was time to go.

Ho Ho Hoppy Birthday Evie.  Fab party.

Beatrix Potter and the Tale of the Thumpity Thump

When I was a child, I had a very special china plate.  This is it.  Around the outside is an excerpt from "The Tale of Peter Rabbit"  The picture in the centre of the plate is scratched from 30 + years of fork stabbings, knife sawings and spoon scoopings.  Obviously Beatrice has inherited it and from time to time the story is read to her.

Then at Christmas she received this..

Her Daddy spotted it and was unable to resist it!  At bedtime now we are working our way through the collection.  Of course the first book we selected was the "Tale of Peter Rabbit".  I was totally unprepared for Beatrice's response to the story, which to me is a silly little tale...to her it was a thriller!  If she had to have been seated she would have been on the edge of her seat.  As it was she was pulling the quilt up to her nose and grabbing onto my arm whispering "he will be OK won't he Mummy?"  At the conclusion, she was a nervous wreck.  

I had never anticipated this!  But this little event impressed upon me that her experiences are not mine.  While I have a wealth of experience of story, film and life, hers is much smaller and it reminded me to take care with what she sees and hears, because how she interprets it is not how I would.  It also excites me.  That I can be a witness as the world unfolds around her and she begins to experience a wealth of things.  Stories that are old to me are new and exciting to her...characters like Jo from Little Women or Jane Eyre, whom I consider old friends are totally undiscovered to her.  I can't wait until she meets Bilbo Baggins, or Owen Meaney, or Atticus Finch!

Another little thing that Bea has inherited from me is the Johnny Town Mouse figure.  When I was a girl, Mummy bought Christopher Robin for my brother Christopher and Johnny Town Mouse for me.  He was placed very high on a shelf and I was NOT allowed to touch him, let alone play with him.  When I discovered I was pregnant, I bought the Foxy whiskered gentleman because he was just so dapper.  The both sit on the wall shelves in Bea's room.  She will occasionally hold them and talk to them.  Imagine her excitement when she spotted Johnny in one of her bedtime stories!  He had to be lifted from the shelf and cuddled.  His little china snout tapping the page whenever he did something of note.

When we began the "Tale of Jemima Puddleduck" the Foxy Whiskered Gentleman was duly acquired and whispered to throughout the story.  Imagine her horror when it was revealed that he was not a nice creature, rather the seducer and potential consumer of poor Jemima!  Bea couldn't reconcile someone she loved being so cruel.  Despite all the evidence to the contrary, beautifully illustrated by Miss Potter, she defended the Foxy Gentleman and ascribed totally different intentions to his actions.  I'll be honest, when the farm dogs came to Jemima's rescue, a tear or two was shed.

Who would ever have believed that reading Beatrix Potter books could be so traumatic!

*****************

An entirely unrelated trauma

(otherwise entitled the Tale of the Thumpity Thump)

This evening, Bea was walking down the stairs.  She was wearing smooth, non woolly tights (no grip...you might be able to predict where this story is going)

On the top step she lost her footing and landed on her bottom, which she used to bumpily bump down the first two stairs.  Unfortunately her ruffely dress was also made of slippery fabric so she twisted 90 degrees, and bumped some more.  Then she managed a full 180 and a tumble emerging in a crumpled, upside down heap at the bottom.  My heart was still at the top of the stairs as her Daddy rushed to her from the kitchen and I scooped her up.  Crying she said "I'm OK" bravely trying to reassure the bits that remained of her two parents.  She then assumed a very worried expression and asked "where has my other voice gone?"

The tights were hastily removed and Bea proceeded to 'get back on the horse immediately' as she marched to the top of the stairs and then back down several times before she announced "It's OK, my feet are working again".

New Year Manifesto

See beauty

Celebrate 

Be thrifty

Try

Live gratefully

Pray

Move more

Be present

Choose contentment

Laugh

Decrease

Drink tea from china cups

Care

Spend less

Make stuff

Breathe

Love

Read more; watch less

Delight in the mundane

Use more ribbon

Eat more fruit

Be gentle

www.fatmumslim.com.au 

Dogs = Home

Let's start with Christmas morning.  Bea is reviewing her ballet performance with her dad and Beans is being a dog rug.  He often does this, particularly in doorways.  If you have met him you will understand that this makes passage from one room to the next difficult as he is a substantial pup.  Two balls (he swapped his squeaky toy for Dilly's ball) some treats and a jumbone make a very relaxed dog...Leftover Christmas dinner make a very full, happy, relaxed dog.

On to Boxing Day.  In our house it was a day to remain in your pjs for as long as possible and snuggle up on the couch.  Since watching a dvd last NYE at the Strongs, Bea now insists on at the very least a blanket to snuggle with while watching a film, often accompanied by sweeties in a bowl.  Dilly, comfortably insulated by her fur coat, tolerated being snuggled under the blanket too.

Later on, Beans was also blanketed up, naturally one chooses a much smaller blanket for the much larger dog.  In case he wasn't warm enough, Bea then sat on top of him to open some more of her Christmas presents.

The rest of the afternoon (I warned you not to be fooled by the pyjamas...at least we didn't pop out to the shops so attired) was spent following Dilly around with the blanket.  Wherever she stopped, the blanket was produced, a golf umbrella unfolded and the "campsite" set up.

The obsession of camping with Dilly is only superceeded by the desire to play "princesses" with her.  Beans being male is naturally exempt from this game.   Unfortunately, Dilly does not have any dressing up clothes, but we work with what we've got.... 

I'm not sure if this face shows pride in her creation...or just mischief.

Dilly's tolerance does not just extend to Bea, she can also be relied upon to be a toy for any visitor.  Her only charge...that she be allowed to steal a kiss (normally a sly lick of the face) and steal any biscuits left on the table.  Fair deal.

Swan Lake

Christmas morning, in the tutu from Santa.