When Big Ben chimes again

Hello 2021. This is summer 2017.

I wanted to write a little note because, according to the news this week, 2021 is when we will next hear Big Ben chime out across London…..apart from very special occasions, that is. And whilst the silencing of Big Ben really isn’t that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, things like this do make me stop and think about time. So as we listened to the (mainly Big Ben related) news a few days ago, and confused little boys struggled to understand why Big Ben was chiming constantly on the radio when it wasn’t supposed to be chiming any more; I kept thinking about what life will look like 4 years from now. In 2021.

In 2021, I will have an 11 year old and two 9 year olds. I find this almost impossible to imagine.

In 2021 we will, apparently, be out of the EU. I find this almost impossible to imagine too.

And in 2021 I will be 41 going on 42…….and probably still talking about what I’d like to be when I’m a proper grown up.

I suspect our lives will be very different the next time we hear Big Ben ring out, so I wanted to try and capture a bit of us now; in the summer of 2017.

We are in what I’m sure I will look back on as a rather blissful, innocent stage free from the pressures that things like mobile phones and gaming can bring. Our house is full of Lego, fancy dress, books, games, cars, trains and dinosaurs; all of which still keep you boys happily occupied. Something tells me this won’t be the case in 2021, and just the thought of navigating the pre-teen landscape makes me anxious.

You are also still, thankfully, at an age at which you enjoy being with your parents …..most of the time at least. And when spending time with your parents isn’t quite exciting enough, thankfully spending time with your grandparents is just about the best thing imaginable.

Summer 2017 has flown by. We holidayed in beautiful Pembrokeshire, you boys spent a happy week on a performing arts summer school; we have wandered through woods, sat in traffic jams, splashed in splash parks, fed our neighbours’ cats, picnicked in the rain, celebrated birthdays, had some tennis lessons, and generally loved the feeling of freedom that comes with the summer holidays. We have squabbled too….. Squabbled over who gets to open the first packet of cat food, who called who poo, whose turn it is to get the breakfast ready, who gets to sit next to mummy at lunch time, whose turn it is to wear the Iron Man socks and who gets to choose the music in the car. I have frequently wanted to hide away in a dark, quiet corner; made what feels like 20,000 packed lunches, and almost lost the will to live over the twice-a-day battle of getting Twin 2 to brush his teeth rather than simply stand on his head with a toothbrush in his mouth.

The laundry has been never ending. That is one thing that I am pretty sure won’t have changed by 2021. And getting you all out of the house still gives me far more grey hairs than I feel it should. I’m hoping that might change.

But I have also tried to remind myself that you boys won’t want to spend your summer holidays pottering about with me forever. And that these times are hard, yes, but also special.

The time has flown, and yet school feels like a whole world away. We all need to get back into routine, although I’m not sure any of us is ready to quite yet. But we are taking small strides, and this week has largely been about doing little things to prepare for the new term. You, Eldest Boy, are starting Juniors in September, which means new uniform and new equipment for your pencil case. You have been diligently doing your ‘button practice’ every day, in readiness for wearing a shirt rather than polo shirt. The other day you tried on your new uniform, including tie, and suddenly looked about 17. We went stationery shopping too this week, and you then spent much of the rest of the afternoon staring happily at your new pens. You are so proud.

In four years time you will be about to start senior school, so perhaps 2021 will see us doing exactly the same thing. Only time will tell if your enthusiasm, and pride in your pencil case, will remain. I desperately hope so.

You are 118cm tall and have lost four teeth so far. We have just bought new school shoes – size 11.5. Having resolutely stayed the same size for at least 18 months, your feet are finally having a growth spurt. For your birthday we bought you a CD player – you love the independence this gives you and have no idea that actually, no-one really has a CD player anymore. You are beautifully indiscriminate in your music choices and are enjoying going through mummy and daddy’s old CD collection – right now, there is nothing remotely embarrassing about this. David Gray is a current favourite – you are possibly the only 7 year old out there listening to This Year’s Love as you sort through your Match Attax cards.

You are on a mission to get your little brothers to try mushy peas. I am on a mission just to get them to eat peas. Or, in fact, anything green.

Twins 1 and 2, you are 112cm and 114cm tall respectively, with size 10.5 and size 11 feet. You haven’t lost any teeth yet. At the moment, life is all about superheroes, Star Wars, fire engines, your new walkie-talkies and singing ‘I like to move it move it‘. You have moved up to two-wheeled scooters with no problems, but have not quite mastered your new roller boots….. yet. You have loved feeding our neighbours’ cats over the last few weeks and will miss your little summer job hugely now it has come to an end. If it wasn’t for the fact that you have two allergic parents, I would consider getting a cat.

But you do have two allergic parents, so I’m really not.

You are valiantly ploughing through your birthday thank you cards, and it has been an almighty struggle. But you are doing them, and when I think about how far you have come in a year, I am ridiculously proud of your just-about-legible scrawls.

And finally, finally; this summer you got your bunk beds – you have been asking for bunk beds for at least two years now. This week I made the mistake of taking you along to the shop to choose some new bedding and we came home with the most garish Avengers duvet covers imaginable. I really should have known better.

The delay in getting your bunk beds is characteristic of mummy & daddy’s rather sloppy approach to getting anything done in the house. We have needed new blinds for the last 7 years at least, and this summer we finally got round to measuring up and even looking at fabric…..but no further than that. It is entirely possible that we still won’t have our new blinds when Big Ben chimes again. In fact, I am pretty confident that our house will exist in the same state of chaos as it does currently.

But aside from a cluttered house, shabby blinds, and never-ending laundry; I have no idea what our lives will look like in 2021. What you boys might be reading, watching, or listening to. Whether you’ll have realised that CD players are no longer the thing to have. And whether or not you little ones will finally have been convinced to try mushy peas.

But this has been us in summer 2017; and we’ll just have to see where life takes us between now and that very famous bell chiming again.

DSC01548

 

 

 

Advertisements

The Pink Cheetah and the Gazelle – guest post

Last Friday, my three boys were overjoyed to bring home the books which they had been busy making during their week-long performing arts course. The almost-5-year-old twins’ books were extensively decorated on the front, and on the inside contained frantic scribbles and a few stickers. The eldest boy’s book contained a story, entitled The Pink Cheetah and the Gazelle. I am putting it here, just in case anything ever happens to that book. And also because, well sometimes it’s just good to have a glimpse into the world of an almost 7 year old.

I have typed the text entirely as it was written, and have just added a few clarification notes here and there – these are in brackets and not italicised.

The Pink Cheetah and the Gazelle

One day, the cheetah sprayed glitter on himself. He was called Calum. He was playing with Eddie the eagle.

Then he and antelope and whale turned pink within a second. Oh dear! They had the pink chicken pocks (sic). They were ill. 

They went to hospital and they turned bad. They killed the vet and nearly died, with zebra kicking at them for what they did. 

book zebra kicked them

If you find this turn of events upsetting, at least there are some lovely yellow stars on the page.

They were hit by elephant and rhino when Calum and Collie (another cheetah*) were in the car. The result was that zebra and rhino were killed and so were hippo and fish (you will be pleased to hear that elephant survived*).

Ostrich was furious about all this but he didn’t want to have another solution.

Zoe the Zebra (NOT zebra who died in the car accident*) was grief stricken on what had happened. She called Police Colly who was even worse. Harold the Hare refused all this to happen and executed King Norigenkan of Nigeria (Zebra). He became king himself. It was all because of the cheetahs. 

The cheetahs began to act like anglo saxons when they got on to a boat to Paraguay. The route took 5 days.

The route from Kenya to Paraguay took 3 days.

On their last day in Kenya, they asked Karoun to execute everyone they did not like.

The end.

book sailing to Paraguay

What a lovely boat for those Anglo-Saxon cheetahs

* = added by the editor for clarity.

Editor’s note: 

Please don’t ask me about the gazelle – I have no idea. I am also unable to shed any light on what happened to Eddie the eagle, but am confident he has nothing to do with the skier.

And if you are eager to know who Karoun is then the next book in the series is definitely one for you.

 

Happiness on a background of sad

It’s the end of half term. And it’s another day of awful news.

I have loved this half term; but the backdrop has been heartbreaking.

We’ve played under (mainly) blue skies and eaten too many ice-creams. We’ve walked miles, had running races, and scrambled up trees. We’ve ridden on trains and buses, and almost reached the riding-bikes-without-stabilisers milestone (or two out of three have, at any rate). We’ve had mini-adventures and some big adventures too. Of course there have been all the usual challenges, and plenty of them…… getting out of the house is still probably up there as the biggest challenge of them all. But overall, I have loved this half term.

It’s a strange feeling, though, creating happy memories against a backdrop of tragic news. It’s a strange thing watching your children joyfully race each other down a hill when your mind can’t stop going over recent events……. Manchester. Kabul. London. Sharing laughs and giving cuddles when you are struggling to comprehend what and why and how. When hearing that a van has driven into pedestrians triggers ‘attack‘ rather than ‘accident‘ in your mind – these are the times we are living in. And yet you, my beautifully innocent little boys, you know nothing about these troubled times. You have no idea what could make anyone angry enough to hurt so many other people. And so we carry on as normal – singing songs, laughing at jokes, eating Cheerios, watching Paw Patrol, squabbling over toy trains.

And yes, I know that for some people, for some families, this is their everyday. Trying to maintain normal for their children against a backdrop of horror…..often outside their own front door. Trying to explain to tiny children that the time has come for them to leave their home and all their belongings behind because it just isn’t safe to stay where they are any longer. Trying to keep some sort of routine, some semblance of normality for the sake of little people who have already seen and heard too much. I don’t know how they do it, these people.

In between all the bad news stories, political parties are canvassing for our votes. Telling us they’ll bring us together again, make sense of it all; put money here and save money there. They’ll make us safer. And as they canvas for votes, we wonder what sort of world you little ones are going to inherit. We read stories about underfunded schools and underpaid nurses. We wonder why the very things we value, the things which hold our society together, don’t appear to be worth investing in.  We want the world to be safe for you, and we are desperately sorry that right now, it doesn’t feel like it is.

And yet still, we laugh as you race down hills and whizz down slides – because that is all we can do. We can’t control everything that is happening out there; but, in these uncertain times, we can do our best to give you a haven, and to give you happy half term memories to hold on to. I hope that’s what we’ve done this week….I’m just so sorry it’s been against a backdrop of sad.

boys on bikes