Kids and school were (almost) the only two topics my girlfriends and I discussed last night over dinner. The beginning of the school year is a hot issue talked about by mothers all over the world especially by the ones who are new to the circle. When it comes to under 6s tears are unavoidable no matter what you do but there are ways to work around the sudden change, slowly and steadily. These tips have helped make our mornings easier.
Monday, September 1. A day I had been dreading since we decided Georgie should attend pre-school. I kept mentioning to my friends and family how wonderfuly excited I am. It will be good for him, they would answer and I agreed. Still, having him by my side for three and a half years meant that separation anxiety was bound to rear its ugly head. It did and last week I fell into the deepest depression hole. I would burst into tears at least once a day and hold him a little longer every night before bedtime. He isn’t going anywhere, papa would say. He’s still your baby. But he’s wrong. And that’s the problem. He’s not a baby anymore.
Last time we began with parenthood musings from Denmark. This time Finnish babies sleeping in cardboard boxes and the unbelievable gift packages ALL mothers receive from the government is inspiring.
A lengthy yet fascinating article on why all the cartoon mothers are dead.
Don’t praise them for being smart. Praise them for being hard workers. Where do you stand?
Our day was nearing the end and I had been toying with the idea of splat painting since the morning. I decided our cold concrete garden wall was in need of colour so Georgie and I headed out, armed with paints, soft balls and a roll of paper. Warning: this is extremely messy. It involves paint. Splatting. If you are game anyway, of course you don’t need a concrete wall to begin. Tape some paper on the wall or hang a big piece of cloth that needs cheering up. The end result is so good and it was fun for both of us. I think we’ll be doing it again soon but this time with another batch of colours.
I have a specific picture of Gwen Stefani and her oldest son in my mind. The only reason I have the image stuck in there is because at the moment the picture was taken she was exiting a nail salon with Kingston. Her nails were painted red. His were painted black. Gasp! Shock! Horror! For a few seconds, I was confused. Was this OK?