Revisioning

As much as I hate corporate speak, it seems to fit here.  This blog started life as "Feed the Bookmonster", an invitation for others to share our assessment of the books my daughter Annika was reading, and hopefully, suggest others she might like to try.  It hasn't had that effect, and while I will continue to discuss Annika's reading habits, I will now take this ball and run in a different direction.

I have rechristened the blog to focus on my perceptions of our life together, and being me, you'll probably get non-parenting stuff thrown in.  I've never been the type of parent who is totally focused on my children; I love them to distraction and find them fascinating, but never forget there is a whole world out there.

So welcome to my world, people.  Pull up a chair, add a slice of lime to your G&T, and enjoy.

Happy New Year

It's a bit cheeky to be wishing people a Happy New Year in February, but there you have it.  The lazy, hazy days of our long summer holiday are over, and my girls are in their second week at school. I've actually had FULL DAYS to write, and my schedule now has a few regular appointments inked in.  It must be 2011.

The Bookmonster is settling in well to her new class, though the emotional interplay of so many new classmates, and being the youngest again, is taking a toll on her moods.  She comes home wrung out ... and any little thing has the capability to push her over the edge into heinous tantrum territory.  Take the chihuahua incident.

Annika is very used to being the supreme speller of her acquaintance.  Not so hard in a class of three to six year olds.  Now, however, she is five and a half, and her classmates are six, seven, eight and nine.  And to her shock, some other children can spell better than she can.

"Mummy, J. asked me to spell chihuahua, and I got it wrong! And HE could spell it!"

Oh dear.  "Isn't that great! Someone who could teach you something you didn't know!"

"But I got it WRONG!"

Explaining that even some adults can't spell 'chihuahua' doesn't go down well.  And then Daddy comes onto the scene and explains that she will never need to spell chihuahua because they are ugly little dogs that look like rats.

Annika begs to differ. Violently. At length.  With tears.  For a very long time.  "All dogs are beautiful, Daddy! I WANT a chihuahua.  I think they are beautiful.  They are gorgeous! You can't say they are ugly - that's so mean!" And so on. And ON.

The Puzzlemonster has no need for such dramatics. She is simply on a rollercoaster that ranges from bouncing-off-the-ceiling hyper, to asleep-at-the-dinner-table exhausted.  (To be fair, she has fewer social pressures than Annika, simply moving up an agegroup within her existing classroom.) She is also a much more chilled personality, something for which her parents are eternally grateful. She trots down the hill to school with huge enthusiasm, walks into the classroom calmly, settles in to work.  Delightful.

Shame about the little demon that emerges at pickup time, but then, you can't have everything.