I don't even know why it bothers me, I'm not going to get any English Literacy scene points all the time I'm creating sentences like 'until I was happy with the way the whole grammer thing was looking' anyway. And English Literacy scene points aren't really something that I care about anyway, I got an A* in my Eng-Lit GSCE, and that right there is all the gratification I need from Mr Grammer and his spelling, sentence checking friends. Do Eng-Lit scene points even exist?! Someone give me some if they do - commas consume my life.
I'd probably blog more often if I didn't keep going of on tangents about GCSEs, scene points and English Literature too. Irrelevant, much?!
We went to the Zoo with my family. When I say Zoo, I mean Wild Animal Park. Port Lympne in Kent is the only zoo that I really remember going to. I'm sure we have been to others, but I don't really recall anything about them. A few years ago, for one of my birthdays, I told Ben I wanted to go to the zoo and he took me to a local one that I'd never been to before. I spent the day with tears in my eyes sobbing on about the monkeys looking bored, the penguins looking sad and the leopard looking like he had been driven crazy by his cage. I remember looking at that poor little leopard and going 'I wish I still hadn't ever seeeeeen a leopard up close, it makes me want to crrryyyyyyy.' I like animals to at least THINK they are wild and free. Anyway. Tangent #2 over.
We went to the zoo with my family. Eva ah-dored it. During the safari, one of the giraffes followed our truck through the gate and we sat for ten minutes or so with this beautiful creature walking around us, peering in and showing off her crazy long neck'd moves to us. As everyone in our little truck gasped and yelped and rushed to take photographs, my husband took a business call. There he was, a star-struck toddler on his lap, excited people all around and a giraffe stood so close to him that he literally reached out his hand and stroked it, nattering on about quotes for changing a few doors or something. He cracks me the heck up.
Despite fighting sore throats and sick bugs off, it was a lovely week - finished off with a trip to the beach where Baby could listen to the sea through stones (according to hers truly) and run around with Monty. They're B-Fri's don't you know!
I spent Easter weekend in bed with that darn bug, so it kinda got brushed over a bit this year. Which I was bitterly disappointed about. I'd bought Eva an easter bonnet and planned an easter egg hunt for the garden and I was GUTTED that I wasn't well enough to do it. But Baby's been making her Mumma smile by popping on that easter bonnet several times a day. Y'know - just for a quick ride on her caterpillar and that!
Last weekend was spent renovating our bedroom. I'd prepared myself for a pretty stressful weekend of juggling wet paint, the loss of a room and a bored toddler, but in the end it turned out to be one of the best weekends I've had in a long, long time. Eva just blew us away with how patient and just down right flippin good she was. (Tangent #3 - I'd also probably write blogs more regularly if I didn't occasionally swear, then delete it incase my Dad reads, then remember that they say it on the tv before the watershed and assume that means it probably wouldn't bother my Dad anyway and putting it back in, then think about the fact that that one day Eva will read this, and then take it back out again. Then I have to think of an alternative word. It takes time. Too much time.)
Back to decorating. Eva was just the definition of perfection. She was shut in our bedroom for pretty much two days straight and she didn't moan or cry about it once. She passed her Daddy screws when he asked for them, she got a little pot of water and helped us paint the walls, and when she wasn't able to help us she sat on our bed with her Baby Tad dancing to 'If you're happy and you know it' and '1,2,3,4,5'.
The girls showed up at about 4.30pm and took Eva downstairs to feed her, dance with her, read to her, laugh with her and run around the house with her. I had realised about half an hour before her tea time that I had nothing to feed Baby, so I made a frantic call to Claire while she was still at work and she showed up five minutes after her shop closed with a meal for my girl under her arm. I have THE best friends.
Eva, of course, loved every minute of it. Over the past few weeks she's gone from screaming every time I leave her side to lapping up the time she gets to spend alone with my B-Fris. She goes from one of their laps to another and looks at me all smug like "Hey Mumma, bet you wish they were YOUR friends, don't ya?" And I feel like being all "Back off honey, those girls are MINE." But I don't; cause they're as much hers as mine, and I know that they love her just like they love me. They'd go to the ends of the earth and back for my Baby, and I love them for it - more than they'll ever know.
I feel like this post is going on forever and I need to find some awe-inspiring way to wrap it up, quick. But Baby started ballet this week, and I ain't brushing over that, so I'm ranting on a bit longer.
Our local dance school takes babies for ballet from the age of two. Two. I mean, WHAT is that?! Baby's been walking since she was one. That's a whole year of dancing she could be having right there. It really pee'd me off and started to get all resentful when I was watching talent programs on the telly. You know how they swan onto the stage and go "Oh yeah, I've been dancing since I could walk...", I'd watch them and be all "Oh really sweetheart, well get you. Go thank your lucky stars you don't live up here cause you wouldn't be able to make that passionate statement if you had of. Know why?! Cause they wouldn't of LET you dance from the moment you took your first steps. They would of said - nice walking honey, keep it up yeah - cause those feet ain't moving in time to the music til you tuurrrn two." Tangent #4? Or are we on #5 now?! Whatever, the point is, I found a different dance class.
Twirling Toddlers is in Coventry, so I had to take on the ringroad to get her there, but it was worth every minute of time spent on horrific roads. They had wands and ribbons and cute little dancey music. We ran on tip toes and swirled and turned and we even did nice toes, naughty toes. I was trying to act all cool and non-fussed as I literally DIED of excitement inside.
At one point the other mum's discussed how it wasn't really about ballet at this age, but more about musicality and having fun. I smiled and nodded along, but I don't think I was fooling anyone. I don't give a hoot about musicality, it's all about the ballet baby, it's all about the ballet. I know, I'm turning into *that* mother - but I feel like I can get away with it cause I'm going to encourage her to play football too. So there.
Baby kept her little outfit on when we went with Auntie Jess to surprise Lair-Bear for her birthday. I had to go to the osteopath half way through the afternoon, so I left Eva with the girls for an hour while I popped out. I came back to be shown videos of the three of them dancing around like mad women; cause Baby can't wear a tutu without dancing, and B-Fri's can't watch her dance without joining in! She knows her own mind that girl of mine, this week has been all about tutus and beanie hats - she's a street dancing ballerina girl, and she pulls it off gooood!!!