Weeknotes 087: Do you have a toy cake in your bedroom?

Our biggest worry for Parents’ Evening 2: Judgment Day, was Piglet being too shy to stand up for herself. Instead we were told that she scolded another child; Don’t snatch. That’s naughty. You’re supposed to share. Give it back and ask for it nicely.” Her tone sharp enough for it to work. Narc.

We also found out she’s the first in the lunch queue and by the time the last kid has dished up, she’s rejoined the queue for seconds.

The polite way nursery describe her shyness is to say she has a high EQ. At home she pretends to be a cat. A soft cat. When she’s in character she can describe her emotional state and if the cat feels sad we can ask why.

When The Chef tried to recount to a bathing Piglet, she humoured her for a minute or two before saying, bath time’s over,” and pulling out the plug. Murder.

She was more engaged in birthday cake chat. She wants a strawberry sparkle cake and The Chef has found a recipe. We’re going to be reinforcing her choice for the rest of the week.

I had midweek gig plans with my time travelling friend to see. Laura Veirs was excellent as usual and mentioned that she’d brought her kids on tour with her, because she’s nearly fifty and that’s what you do. I felt the profound passing of time. Compounded when she asked for shout-outs and took the bold decision to play songs from far enough back in her catalogue that she couldn’t remember the lyrics. The type of crowd that loved that though.

I’m working from home so I can nip out at lunchtimes to get gravel to pour around the paving stones. I have to do it at lunchtime because Piglet saw me do one bag and she’s been mimicking a middle-aged groan any time she picks something up since. In case it wasn’t obvious earlier, this girl is brutal.

I had the best of 2005 on while scattering stones and this Broken Social Scene track must be the inspiration / sample for Public Service Broadcasting, albeit I can’t find any references.

Carting heavy bags about is excellent for my sleep. I’m afraid to admit that I’m going to work regular exercise back into my life. I’m still so Covid broken that I can’t fit a haircut in once every couple of months, so daily exercise might be too much. Guess it’s back to interrupted sleep.

Between lunch-breaks, I’ve negotiated my way out of an upcoming work trip to the US. I’ve holiday and a conference in the next month. Travel in the middle is too many missed family nights. A few late night Teams calls is preferable.

With the third birthday on the horizon, we sent Piglet in to nursery with a chocolate cake. She got flummoxed when people started singing and needed a cuddle and to be talked down with, you’re like the queen and have two birthdays.” I try not to post pictures and videos of her, but please enjoy this recreation of her eating the cake.

Cuddling her at home while she told the story, I could feel her heart. It doesn’t beat so fast anymore. Slower. With the distinct dum-dum of a full-sized heart.

The Chef collected the food we’d reserved and managed to add another barbecue’s worth on top. Here’s hoping everyone’s hungry at the weekend.

A weekend started playing in the street. The dads of the street are all of similar ages and backgrounds. Shout Dave, Paul or Peter and you’ll get an answer. Witnessed a lovely bit of third-child-itis. Youngest is about one and was put in the middle of the street to crawl about unsupervised and unworried. The older kids played on hoverboards and bikes, while the younger ones got excited and wet themselves. Top street closure. We’re doing it again in a month. Now I’ve got to resist using the roadsigns in the garage to close an arbitrary road.

While making small talk about a dent in someone’s car, I presumed the word was a contraction of indentation. Then—small talk allowing my mind to wander—figured that must be something to do with dente/teeth. Wrong on both counts.

Post-street play, we had a first birthday to get to. It’s fun listening to the subtle tiger parenting going on. Nothing explicit, but pointed questions about how old a kid is when they start doing something and to what degree of competency.

With Piglet in bed for the week, all that’s left for us to do is to stay up past midnight tidying, baking strawberry sparkle cake and blowing up balloons before everyone arrives.


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Weeknotes 088: And now we’re three