TropicalSoup

Feeling wordy

(We’ve been talking lately about the appropriateness of some words, and how some are not suitable for children to use. This has mostly evolved from a small girl deciding she quite liked to use the word bugger when something went other than according to her plans. The other day she dropped a glass of water and it spilt. Bugger she said. Oh, I think you mean *bother* I reply. No, replies miss 3, bother is what you say when you lose something. But you say bugger when an accident happens.

I’m torn between being thrilled that she has context so well sorted, and perturbed because how on earth will we survive the rest of childhood at this rate? Oh yeah, and more than a little relieved that bugger is the worst she’s picked up so far. Phew.) Which brings me to this morning...

As Cole and Immy were brushing their teeth, I was singing a half made up silly song about it, something about brushing round and round, and it ended with *and then you spit the toothpaste out*.

Immy: spit is not an appropriate word for a grown up to use.

Me: Oh? I didn’t realise. What word would it be appropriate for me to use then?

Immy: Bugger.

A long week

Hello my lovelies. Thanks for the love and kind messages. It's been a long, trying week, but I am happy to say we are all finally on the mend. Getting there. Two sick and chronically, ridiculously overtired munchkins (horrid barking coughs are not conducive to falling or staying asleep. Of course neither is an apparent allergy - developed at age 18 months - to taking naps!) coupled with one sick and overtired mama makes for a good dollop of crankiness around here. I just about cried with relief when I had two small children wake up yesterday morning (still in their own beds!) happy and cheerful and their smiley selves again! Oh wait, I think I did.

It wasn't a completely lost week though, there was an awful lot of christmas crafting in our pyjamas, a tree put up and decorated, advent calendar rummaged through, and many many discussions of Santa Claus, the meaning of Christmas carols, and a few comments about what the littlest Campbells would like to find in their stockings come Christmas morning. For the record, Imogen would like a kitten, a ukelele and a hot air balloon, and Cole would like a kitten, a puppy, a guitar, a submarine and lots of milk! This season is fun.

Barking...

...we're doing a lot of that around here at the moment. And we're not even pretending to be canines. Two small children with nasty upper bronchial infections (and with any luck, not with pneumonia!) are the greatest contributors. Poor little puddings are doing their best at making fun out of being made to stay reasonably quiet and lowkey indoors...thankfully the persistent rain this week has put a definite dampener on outdoors temptations. I am very lucky that both Cole and Imogen are particularly snuggly kids, and that this increases when they're sick. Unfortunately, well, there's only one of me (generous proportions though I may have) and that means very very little in the way of any time to myself, or in fact anything that can't easily be accomplished by one under-the-weather mama without at least one little barking patient clinging to her like a limpet at any one time, just doesn't get done. This too shall pass, and just as well or we'll run out of cutlery and food. If I'm a little scarce for a few days, this is why.

(unrelated pics of happy food times with two gorgeous wee poppets almost two years ago - Jan 08 - when we were still in Rarotonga. It still blows me away what crazy adventures we've had in the last 2 years!)