Last weekend, Ewan was three. "Big Boy Three", as he refers to it.
I am hoping that "Big Boy Three" is going to be like "Fun Boy Three" (not three weird guys singing with Bananarama), but more fun than "Bloody Awful Twos", which were unspeakably dreadful - and partially responsible for my extended blogging silence. I was always taught that if you had nothing constructive or pleasant to say, then don't say anything at all. Iona's entrance into the world, combined with Ewan's apparent discovery of the word "No", and the phrase "Go away Mummy" whilst simultanously trying to pee in inappropriate places purely to cause me consternation caused a nuclear fallout in our household.
So this year, I thought I would do it different. We dropped the party. Perhaps it was that that sent him headlong into several months of toddler meltdown last year? Heh. Let's take that excuse and run with it. Or perhaps it was the fact that for the last two years I have thrown a huge party in his honour, only to find that I am doing it alone, and that I have invited far too many people. Since it is frowned upon to drink your way through a toddler party, I thought it safest to drop it. Instead, we had a lovely outing to Whipsnade Zoo... which was enjoyable, and almost entirely meltdown free. Only the elephants went on the rampage, and that turned out to be 'part of the show'. Watching Ewan's little face when the elephants pretended to ransack a 'man village' whilst Iona egged them on with excited whoops was worth it alone! Lightning McQueen barely featured this year for Ewan. Spiderman is king, despite the fact he has never seen the movies. He went to bed on his birthday with a tummy full of red and blue cake, and a pair of Spiderman socks (and a nappy and a dummy, but we won't mention those).
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| Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can... |
The highlights of the rest of the weekend were a visit to the Maize Maze at Milton with Adele, and her three children; Ella, Angus and Seb. Who says that looking after five children between two adults is difficult?! ME!!! Repeatedly! ;-) Honestly, the number of times I saw Ewan streaking past in a little blur as he ran between bouncy castles, slides and trampolines, only to find that as I turned my head for a second to look at Iona tipping into a mud pile, he had in fact gone elsewhere (out of sight) is too depressing to report (and I wold probably be reported to social services). They did however have a fantastic time, and we will definately be doing it again next year - but only if I manage to balance out the child/adult ratio a little more.
On Saturday, my parents came to visit, and we took the children to a car boot sale. Needless to say, that despite the fact that a) I could do with having my own car boot sale to get rid of the stack of plastic toys littering my house, and b) it was going to be Ewan's birthday on Sunday, I still managed to go home with a large plastic dinosaur, a plastic 'Woody' from toy story, and an all singing and dancing farm set. Not to mention a 'french' painted coal scuttle, that has received nothing but sneering looks from one of the male householders since it arrived home ;)
Today though I am feeling a little sad. Ewan is having his last day at his nursery. The nursery that have looked after him since he was 7 months old, and where he feels he fits in. We are dragging him kicking and screaming to a new nursery, which has outstanding Ofsted reports and is half the price. A no brainer really... I still can't help feeling a little bit heartbroken for him - especially as he is completely oblivious to the fact that today *is* his last day. We have told him, but he doesn't really understand it. I know that life will be full of much harder decisions than this... but still.
1 comment:
The price of childcare is extortionate especially when you are one of the ones being squeezed in the middle. When I put my two sons through nursery it was £1200 and now just to put my third son through its nearly £900 !
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