Note to self - Teach children the art of people watching by stealth

On Tuesday we went to the park after school to try and dissolve any'post Easter/after school' arguments and whining. The idea being the kids would have a pinic tea in the sunshine and run wild on the adventure playground.

We are sat at the traffic lights, 4 year old in the front, 3 year old in the back.

4 year old - "Mummy, look at that TINY Grandma, look, look."

3 year old - "Where, where?"

I can see in my mirror that the 3 year old is actually considering taking off his seatbelt for a better look. I give him 'the glare' and he reconsiders and cranes his neck to see.

In order for me to look I have to lean really far forward to look at the woman in the passenger seat of the car next to us.

It's true, the woman in the passenger seat of the car next to us is in fact the TINIEST Grandma I have ever seen.

I look at the lady driver, our eyes meet. I look away quickly, embarrassed that I have been caught out staring at her TINY Grandma. I look in the opposite direction willing the lights to change.

Me - "Really, you mustn't stare"

3 year old - "I don't like that TINY Grandma"

Me - "Sit back and stop staring both of you!"

4 year old - "But she is soooo TINY, look, look"

Me - "Stop staring!"

I imagine the conversation in the other car ...

Woman in other car - "What is wrong with that child? She's bouncing about, shouting and staring at us. I bet the mother has been giving them too much sugar."

TINY Grandma - "Why is the one in the back with the big hair scowling at me?"

Woman in other car - "... and look, their mother is just ignoring them. Poor children"

TINY Grandma - "What chance have they got?"

Note to self - Teach children the art of people watching by stealth

Sugar Rush

At Casa Laura this is the look we associate with too much sugar ...



... wide eyed and crazy with a hint of 4 year old charm

She only licks the icing ...

I have always been very conscious of the amount of sugar that the 4 year old eats. Anything more toxic than chocolate buttons and her head is guaranteed to spin as she bounces off the walls. I kid you not; she even has nightmares (usually about the man) when she’s overdosed on sugar. Don’t even get me started on fizzy drinks or Fruit Shoots. Snack wise I always try and lean towards the raisins/fruit option before the sweets and biscuits. This has thus far worked and makes life much easier. Both children have their fair share of sweets and biscuits, just in moderation. Control freak? Me? Never.

I am already twitching at the start of the ‘silly season’. Christmas is a time of many parties … out spring the guilty pleasures of my 4 year old; Cheesy Wotsits, buns (of which she only licks the icing) and unsolicited party bags brimming with a variety of sweets.

I recently discovered that the forces are against me; the force of Daddy. On the way to school we saw a sign outside a local shop advertising ice cream. As I had just scraped ice off my car I thought it amusing and made a comment to the 4 year old about it not being the sort of weather to be partaking in a 99 with sprinkles and sauce. This jolted one of her memories from her ever random memory bank …

Her - “Mummy, once when you were out Daddy said we could have an ice cream and some sweets. Then YOU rang to say you were on your way home and he said we couldn’t have anything because you’d tell him off”.

Me - “Do you think I’m mean?”

Her - “Yes”

Me - “Do you think Daddy’s mean?”

Her - “No”

I may be mean but he’s busted and he doesn’t even know it (until, that is, he reads this).

My husband would live on Midget Gems if he could. He has learnt to conceal his quarter bags of the little buggers from the children. Unfortunately, even the 2 year old who we suspect suffers from periodic deafness can identify the rustle of a paper bag filled with sweets. On the occasions they have discovered his stash they beg him, with their big eyes for a hit of the good stuff. He of course crumbles under the weight of his heart being tugged and the gentle whine of his beautiful babies. This, I have found, often happens within half an hour of bedtime and also coincides with the nights I am on bath and bed duty.

This, I refer to as ‘Daddy writing cheques that Mummy has to cash’.