On Sunday afternoon I began to wonder what has become of my lifestyle as, instead of being engaged in a long, lazy lunch at a restaurant with G, I found myself kneeling in a local church hall, cleaning up a gallon of random child’s vomit.
Suffice to say it was my turn to chaperone the Microbe to a children’s party. In truth it was a perfectly nice party – albeit huge and brave, with at least 40 pre-schoolers rampaging about, scoffing bolognese, dancing, crying and cavorting on a bouncy castle (and vomiting beside my feet, obv).
Seeing no such emissions emerging from the Microbe, I reverted to standing in a corner and eating cake and assumed that we’d got off fairly lightly. Alas, he was merely saving it for later. I should have known something was up when he zonked out on the sofa well before bedtime – but I failed to spot the warning signs and wandered back ten mins later to find him (and the sofa) caked in the remains of his tea.
On days like these I really feel for single parents. You just can’t put a price on the moral support of having some poor sap nearby who will stand around and make appalled noises with you for 5 minutes. Not to mention being able to share out the tasks, so that one of you can wash and comfort the wailing boy while the other strips and launders the sofa cushions …and everything else that got spattered.
The next morning the boybot woke up cheerful and full of beans but we had to honour the nursery quarantine and keep him home anyway. Apparently nursery has turned into vomageddon since then – I pity the poor staff!
As it was, Jimmy and I had a very nice day at home together, getting up to this and that. At some point in the afternoon he became fervently engaged in the task of finding his “missing raccoons” – these being a pair of microsopic plastic Playmobil toys, each around the size of a peanut. The chances of them turning up seemed pretty slim and his search involved turning his bedroom upside down and getting out every single toy in the flat …so I left him to it and got on with some stealth sewing.
As a result I was able to finish another quilt – hooray! I’d promised to make one for the boy after I finished his baby sister’s and he instructed me that he didn’t want his quilt to be flowery as that would be “for girls” (yes – it has begun.)
I find patchwork for boys a bit of a challenge as the fabrics that are clearly marketed for them make far too much use of 70s retro colours and overly stylised monsters and robots for my liking. In the end, I decided to just base it around his favourite colour (red).
The result has turned out a little bit ‘Christmasy’ but never mind – the boy seems happy with it. (Apparently it also makes a good chessboard for brightly-coloured animals…)
This daylight pic of the work-in-progress probably gives a more accurate idea of the colours…
Edited to add… here it is being christened:
Anyway it’ll do good service until the weather turns warm, then we’ll probably switch him back to the farmyard one, which is thinner and lighter for Spring.
I really should have stopped sewing the minute I finished the quilt but I was struck by a dogged determination to make matching pillowcases during the evening. As a result I got tired and sloppy and distracted and ended up creating a useless pair that are about 2 cm too tight for his pillows. Pah!
As for the raccoons – the boybot finally located one of them, to his utter joy, shortly before bedtime. Roll forward to this morning’s conversation…Oi
“You’re NOT taking that raccoon to nursery. He’s tiny and you spent all day yesterday looking for him. If you take him to nursery you’ll never see him again”
“Just put him somewhere safe and he’ll be waiting for you when you get home”
“Mummy, I’m going to put him away when you’re not looking”
“Are you looking?”
“Ok I’ve put the raccoon away”
“He’s in your pocket isn’t he?”
“Let me feel your pockets”
The Microbe’s other latest obsession is game playing. It has become a fun bonding activity with daddy over the last few weeks, involving board games and Go Fish and a card game where they have to match animals to their homes (e.g. rabbit/warren, badger/sett, etc.) Yesterday the boy got a sub-standard level of service with Mummy, who had to phone daddy to find out how they play the rules – but he jumped for joy when G got home from work and demanded “a dice game“. I find it very sweet hearing them play and I’m certainly not keen to usurp daddy’s role as gamesmaster.
In baby sister news, the Microbe has become fixated on calling her Tabitha. This was not on our list of potential names… alas, he doesn’t seem to think much of any of those.
I said to him the other day:
“Do you really want to call her Tabitha?”
“Maybe we could call her something else …and Tabitha could be a nickname?”
“No, Mummy! Her name will be Tabitha and her nickname will be Microgirl!”
I guess we shall have to think about that one.