Saturday 2 June 2012

Baby Legwarmers

I asked for a sewing machine for my birthday. In March. Today completed my first sewing project (sounds impressive, doesn't it). This is proper sewing for dummies, right up my street: baby legs, made from a pair of old socks.

Baby legs are basically Legwarmers - no feet, no bum, just legs. Very cute for under a dress or skirt. The full tutorial is here: http://cally-cruze.blogspot.ie/2009/03/baby-legs-tutorial.html?showComment=1338649376531&m=1
But the jist is as follows: chop the feet off a pair of long socks (I used an old pair of my own with a hole in the toe). Then use a small tight zigzag stitch right along the very edge of the cut end, stretching it as you sew. That's it!

The sewn ends bounce back all ruffled and pretty while the top ends fit snugly round Girl's little baby thunder thighs.

I actually made a second pair which weren't quite as successful although they are mighty cute too. The ends didn't end up quite so ruffled. I think it was because the material was thicker, more like towelling socks. My old worn socks worked much better so here is a picture of them. Next stop home made debs gown (I'd better start soon!).

Peek a Boo Pegs

I found a photo of a simple clothes peg mechanical toy on Pinterest a while ago. I copied the chick and egg from the original photo, using craft foam, then made my own version using foam hands and a tiny printed photo of girl.

I was quite pleased with the results but although Boy and Girl both liked the Peek a Boo pegs they also wanted to get their hands on them. Since they are too young to work the pegs without giving into touching the (flimsy) foam part, these peek a boo pegs are unlikely to last very long. But this is one activity that I will definitely be coming back to when they are a bit older and can be more involved with the making part. I thought I'd blog about it anyway because I was quite proud of the end result, even if my babies weren't :)

Thursday 24 May 2012

Peggy the Steggy and Kilcornan Walled Garden

The sun is shining hard on the Irish Riviera (but not in our back garden until after lunch) so when Boy asked for "painting" this morning I removed the three of us onto the front driveway with paper, paint, pegs and brushes to make a couple of Peggy the Steggy stegosaur pictures, idea stolen from www.notimeforflashcards.com.

I sketched out a very rough, very non- authentic stegosaur onto yellow card then let Boy and Girl loose with the green paint. Boy immediately began lashing paint onto the ground, stones and he even made sure the whole paint pallet was an even green. Girl focused her efforts on her tights and mouth. I returned the neighbour's Avon lady's sympathetic smile with a smug grin. Check me being arty with my kids and not even having to scrub the floors afterwards. Stick that in your Avon catalogue and sell it.

Anyway Peggy the Steggy managed to catch a few splodges of paint and Boy quite enjoyed painting the clothes pegs though he got a bit frustrated trying to clip them on the dinosaur's back. Then we stuck on googly eyes and a scrap of green paper for a mouth, cut out the dino shape and boom, the dinosaurs are roaming the earth once more.

One of Boy's favourite parts of painting is washing his hands. Honestly. So that kept him busy for a while as I persuaded a rather more reluctant, very green Girl that just a light wash of hands and face wouldn't hurt.

An hour or so later we met some friends at Kilcornan walled garden in Clarinbridge with just a few green spots remaining on our clothes. Fine. And on our arms legs faces and feet. Though I've been to Kilcornan Woods, the swimming pool and surrounding green areas, for some reason I didn't even know of the existence of this really pretty and peaceful spot.

The walled garden reminded me a bit of Brigits Garden, but it is quite a bit smaller. There are paths, plenty of grass, several swinging benches dotted around as well as a lovely quiet spot by a fenced off pond and tinkling fountain complete with carved wood decorations. The highlight for Boy was a little hut which contained, of all things, a drumkit! Complete with two simple twigs for drumsticks. In fact we spent so much time between the drums, the pond and making daisy chains that we did not get to see every corner of the garden, which I feel sure holds several more secret treasures. We will definitely be coming back. Hopefully, next time I will be able to persuade Boy to wear a more manly hat.

Wednesday 23 May 2012

Homemade Birthday Cards

We have an abundance of art materials taking up every nook and cranny in the house: pompoms, plasticine, paper, crepe paper, tissue paper, sugar paper, stickers, feathers, glitter...you name it, it's lying around unused in the hope that one day I'll come up with a fantastic idea for it, other than just endlessly and often extravagantly adding to this futile collection.

Well today I realised it is Grunny's birthday soon. Tomorrow actually. My options: last minute ecard from Funky Pigeon or somewhere similar, last minute bunch of flowers from inter flora (working out at approximately 5 euro per leaf) or adorable belated home made card, with love and uniqueness hopefully cancelling out the lateness.

As It happens I would normally go for option 1 or 2 but thought I'd be all thrifty and creative for once and get the kids to make a card. We used coloured card, green art straws and coloured felt and some dots of glue. I cut out the shapes (probably shouldn't admit to that) and Boy stuck them on. I was actually quite impressed that he has progressed from random stick-everything-to-anything-for-30-seconds-before-losing-interest to actually making a recognisable picture, staying focused for a record breaking 7 minutes (approx.). He even clapped himself afterwards and said "wow".

Girl was keen to get in on the fun, so I spent the next ten minutes removing crayons, felt and glue from her mouth while she made a slightly more abstract card for Grumpy, whose birthday happens to be this weekend. It's still pretty cool though. And the art straws I bought last year have finally been opened for an artistic purpose. I think I heard a little squeak of excitement when I opened the box, but it might have come from me.

Stuffing the cards in an envelope and taking them to the post office was, in my mind the icing on the cake of an educational enterprise activity, but for some reason Boy found this part supremely boring. Maybe older and/or wiser children would like that part better.

These cards were so simple and quick to make and I really think they are a lot more personal than online card websites. If only I could smush them into my computer and email them so they'd get to Grunny's in time...

Friday 18 May 2012

A Little Catch Up

Since Boy has come out of crèche I find myself with less time to blog (and cook, clean, sit, breathe etc). But this is not to say we haven't had time for fun. The last few weeks have seen lots of visits to friends, soft play, Bounce and Rhyme and a lovely wee trip to Wexford with beaches, animals and fun parks galore.

More recently we turned a floor load of empty bottles into a spectacularly easy to make and curiously addictive marble run (the marbles keep disappearing, and Girl has started to make an unusual rattling sound as she crawls, but that's another story). And today I stole a great idea from http://www.toddlertoddler.com/ and turned a biscuit box into a maze.

In other news, Girl is pulling herself up, starting to make recognisable sounds and is down to one (ish) breastfeed per day. Boy is still crazy in love with his sister, though it would be nice if he wouldn't try to kiss, cuddle and row the boat with her while she is trying to nap. They regularly have full conversations in a series of screeches and giggles that noone else can understand and I spend my days hoping with all my strength that their relationship continues like this for years to come.


Saturday 31 March 2012

Imaginosity Children's Museum

I've often thought that toy shops should charge people to come in, since kids always end up playing with any toys they can get their hands on, despite their parents not always buying anything.

Well that's pretty much just what the bright sparks at Imaginosity Children's Museum in Dublin have done. They've gathered together big versions of children's favourite playthings, then charge folks to come and play.

The museum is in Sandyford near Dundrum (ideal for post-play shopping) and advertises itself as being suitable for children up to the age of 9. Most of the children we saw there looked to be under six. However I could see older children having fun too, if there were others there the same age. Visitors are admitted in two-hour slots and booking is advised.

The Museum is laid out on three floors. As we walked into the first floor Boy spotted a life size car with its doors opened invitingly. It took some serious persuasion to convince him that there was more worth seeing as he was delighted with sitting in the driver's seat and blowing the horn. Eventually we moved onto the interactive model railway village where Boy was once again in seventh heaven. There was a small soft area for Girl with a few simple toys and a play kitchen. She was quite content to be propped up against the oven, opening and shutting the cupboard doors while a friendly little boy served us a plastic slice of cake over and over again.

Also on this floor was a pretend play cafe, post office, and supermarket complete with shopping trolleys and grocery lists. This was a little too much like real life for my liking, but luckily for me Boy felt the same and did not linger too long. We dipped briefly into the library before heading up to the second floor.

The baby area on floor two was much sparser but this seemed to suit Girl quite well. She admired the (somewhat grubby) fish tank then, finally, managed to crawl forwards for the first time since she started moving herself two months ago - up until now it has been backwards or nothing. So I was very excited to see her actually crawling towards what she wanted today instead of away from it as usual (and I didn't miss the mandatory screech of frustration as the intended target moved further away instead of closer in spite of her efforts). I thought she was trying to reach a coloured bubble tube on the other side of the soft area. In fact she was trying to reach herself in a mirror along the far wall. She spent a good half hour then, playing with her own reflection, little Narcissa.

Meanwhile Boy was having a whale of a time in the 'construction zone', busily posting foam bricks down a slide, while two older children collected them and sent them back up on a pulley. He would take a break every so often to switch the lights on and off in a magnificent dolls house stretched all the way across one wall. There were signs everywhere encouraging people to help their children tidy up after themselves, and people did seem to make an effort to leave toys in the section they found them. There were plenty of staff around too and they all seemed friendly.

There were a few corners that we didn't explore, including a drama area where children can dress up and film themselves giving a news report, but I did spy B having a shot at hammering some tuned plastic pipes when he thought no one was looking. We decided to give the Hip Hop dance workshop a miss.

The top floor is home to an outdoor garden of toys, but this was closed during our visit. Another fine feature of which we couldn't take advantage was the 'Beanstalk', a huge winding tower which spanned all three floors, but which was labelled for ages three and up. Boy wanted to climb in but I couldn't see me squeezing into a child-sized hole to rescue him if he got stuck two floors up so we played at climbing the stairs instead. Thank goodness that's still fun when you're only a toddler.

Overall a great afternoon's entertainment, and we will definitely be returning in 6-12 months, once Girl is on her feet and can get a bit more out of it. The cost for the four of us was 24 euro which I found reasonable for what was on offer. A year's membership for a family of four would be 255 euro. I didn't find that quite so reasonable, but I guess if you are living close by and intend to visit very often it might be worth it.

In the end we didn't stay much longer than half of our allotted two hour slot - Boy was over excited and his teeth were beginning to show, though he was in a great mood, while Girl told us in her own special way that she was ready to leave. It's like she has a special radar for knowing when we don't have any nappies to hand.

Monday 19 March 2012

Baby Cinema

I love that we are able to take Boy to the pictures again. I used to take him to monthly mother and baby cinema mornings (Eye Scream) when he was tiny but as soon as he was on the move it became less of a treat and more of a tortuous workout. I remember the last film we took him to see, one of the Narnia films - maybe Prince Caspian? Who knows. I didn't get to see any of it. I spent the first half hour feeding him chocolate buttons in an attempt to get him to sit quietly, and the next hour chasing him relay style up and down the steps. I learned two important lessons that day: 1)chocolate, toddlers and quiet places don't mix, and 2)my cinema days were over.

Feel free to mock my priorities, but I purposely chose Wednesdays as a crèche day for Boy so that when Girl can along I could indulge in Eye Scream mornings again. Right enough, we went together a few times but missed the last few months for one reason or another.

When we decided to give the Saturday morning 'Kids' Club' cinema screenings a shot at the local Omniplex neither B nor I held out much hope. So we were totally thrilled when Boy sat mesmerised through the whole of "Puss in Boots". Hurray! We have been twice now with the same result. Although we are limited to kids' films (Eye Scream is geared towards parents with tiny babies and shows adult oriented films - though not necessarily quality features) it is a lovely restful way to spend a rainy Saturday. And at only €2.50 a ticket it's a total bargain too.

We splashed out today (on the full early bird price) to see the Muppets film at the Eye, but both kids were snoring from about halfway through. B was roaring with laughter - at fart shoes, really - and I wondered briefly how many children I actually have.

It is with more than a little regret that I must admit that Girl is almost at the stage when I won't be able to bring her any more. Don't tell the weaning police but breastfeeding is a pure godsend when you want a bit of peace to ogle, sneer, laugh or cry uninterrupted at whoever is on the big screen. (Recently Sean Penn, Daniel Radcliffe, Maggie Smith, and George Clooney, respectively). At least this time I can take a year off knowing we will be able to return in the not too distant future, hopefully without needing to flash everyone while juggling two babies and a large Pepsi Max.

Wednesday 14 March 2012

Painting Shamrocks

Grunny and Grumpy are here for the week much to everyone's delight so I tried a little St Patrick's Day painting activity at the parent and toddler group yesterday while Girl and Grumpy got to know each other. It felt like a strange super-ability to suddenly have two arms to myself for a whole hour.

I started by cutting out a few shamrock shapes out of card. These were a bit dodgy; more a cross between a Club on a deck of cards and a conjoined trio of deformed love hearts than a shamrock but as Grumpy kindly pointed out, nothing in nature is perfect.

So then I put out two pots of green paint and a small selection of brushes and painting sponges. I stuck one or two Shamrocks on a sheet of paper using a small piece of rolled up Sellotape. Blue tack might have worked better, but the Sellotape was fine.

The children began to wander over to see what was going on and each was given a sheet of paper. Then they were given free rein to slap on the green paint. Once finished we took off the taped on shamrocks to leave a silhouette shape.

Grumpy kindly pointed out while shamrocks are green, my shamrock shapes would be, well, not green. So if you are after accurate horticultural replication you may wish to use white paint on green paper, or red paint on white paper and then let children colour in the white shapes with green crayon... I could go on. In the end using green paint on green or white paper was the most successful but the other colours worked quite nicely too.

The older children painted the actual shamrocks rather than the space around them, and some were a little put out when I said I was going to remove them, though they enjoyed shouting 'ready steady GO!'. In fact the younger children probably enjoyed the actual activity better, while the older ones appreciated the end result.

The parents' input was interesting too. Some parents sat right back and let their kids get on with it, some sat and helped their children do it 'right' and one daddy stared over his tiny toddler daughter's shoulder with such intense pride as - was that a tear I saw him blink back? - she slapped green paint all over her picture, the table and herself with a mini sponge paint-roller that I was slightly relieved when he finally enlightened me with a beaming smile: "I'm a painter too."

Sunday 11 March 2012

Paddy's Day Sensory Box

A sensory bin or box is a container of fun stuff for small children to play with, usually based on a theme. Once assembled, the adult who made it calls it a sensory box to make it sound educational.

I liked the idea and decided to put one together for the babies. I used a large, fairly shallow clear plastic storage box and filled it with all things green (with a bit of orange and white) to try and make it a St. Patrick's Day theme.

My first attempt wasn't great - I just collected all the green trains, hats and other toys going around and it ended up looking like a messy green toy box.

I ended up taking out most of the toys and bulking it out with a grass skirt, felt pompoms, a green tinsel wig and a Paddy's day garland from the Euro2 shop. Then I added a Paddy's day hat, a slinky and an Irish flag.

This was a much better combination as the touchy feely bulk half-hid the other items well enough to make them stand out. As it turns out, the less you put in the box, the easier it is for children to pick and choose what they want to touch and play with.

The box (mark 2) was a hit with Girl immediately and it keeps her entertained day after day whenever I need a minute. She loves it when I sit by the box and play with her too. Though I do spoil the fun a little by insisting on the extraction of pompoms from her mouth. The depth of the box is ideal for her to help herself safely, and she is fascinated by the jingle bells on the hat.

Boy initially turned up his nose at it until he happened to step in it with bare feet one day. He thought this was hilarious and pulled out the grass skirt and trampled back and forth over it laughing out loud. He still likes the box, but tends to tip everything out then sit inside with the tinsel wig on his head hanging onto Girl and singing Row Row your Boat. Each to his own.

I plan to change the contents every so often and have already started collecting bits and bobs for a Spring themed sensory box.

St Patrick's Day is on 17th March each year which gives us one more week of wig wearing, hat jangling, foot stamping, pompom licking, flag waving fun.

Wednesday 7 March 2012

DIY Activity Centre



One of my earliest memories is of a Fisher Price cream coloured plastic activity centre with rollers, an old style telephone dialler and three men in a tub (rub-a-dub-dub). I suspect this memory is of a time before I was 3 years old.

As soon as Boy came along I wanted him to have one of these cot-side activity centres and in my haste bought the first one I came across, a very cheap Disney themed toy which has been on the side of his cot since he was too small to use it. In fact he got quite good use out of it, but these days it doesn't hold much interest for him. I was thinking of moving it to Girl's cot, when I spied a very cool home made activity cente online. In years gone by, when I worked in Special Education, I saw similar boards used as a sensory tool for children with autism and visual impairment.

We set out to Woodies for a big piece of plywood then had a great time picking out bells, switches, locks, doorknobs and other goodies to put on our activity centre. It took about three weeks from planning, through to the finished product, which still has a little room for adding extras should we want to at a later time. Both babies love their new toy, especially seeing their own faces peeking out from behind the little doors. Boy is particularly delighted with the shrieking alarm that sounds whenever his door is opened. Girl is not so thrilled with that part. Mammy is thrilled with the alarm's off switch.

The lovely part of the activity centre is that we all chipped in with making it. Boy helped to varnish the wood (he had very shiny hands for a couple of days there) and Girl helped us to see that leaning the board against a wall instead of screwing it down wasn't the brightest idea. But we won't go into details. If you like the look of this then please don't be put off. It was surprisingly straightforward to make and is customisable - use your imagination and add what you want. Everything is screwed on except the photos which are stuck on with masking tape, and the name tags which are stuck onto velcro strips.

Obviously, it is too big to be a cot toy. Nevertheless I hope it is one toy that both Boy and Girl will get some mileage out of and remember fondly for years to come.



Saturday 3 March 2012

Shopping and Galway City Museum

After a couple of beautiful days the West coast rain returned today just in time for the babies to start feeling a bit better. Girl slept the whole night for the second time in a week (the second time in her life, actually) and since we were all up by 6am and had the whole day before us we decided to visit Galway City Museum.

Despite living in Galway for over five years we had never visited the museum before. So we piled into the car and arriving a little early we headed to the Eyre Square Centre for a look around the shops.

Ahh I forget how much I love shopping in Galway. While B loves the chain stores - HMV, Game, Art & Hobby and the Early Learning Centre - I love the independent stores that line shop street. I picked up a huge bagful of craft material in Powell's and a tiny music box from Wooden Heart - though we stopped and gazed/drooled for aaages over the big wooden toys, sigikid dolls and quiet books (and their even bigger price tags). Before heading home we took a stroll around the St Nicholas market and stopped into It's Magic in the Eyre Square centre where two teenage girls were gawking at a pin screen. I've never felt older when one said "I've never seen anything like this before!" and I found myself telling her they were all the rage when I were a lass.

We did actually make it to the museum too, which was clean, quiet and pleasant if a little unremarkable. Entry is free. The exhibits (wartime, dance hall days, Irish cinema, prehistoric and medieval Galway) were interesting but not really suited to the kids, though Boy was entranced by the gigantic Macnas puppet from the 2010 arts festival parade and he did like the big hooker hanging from the ceiling. Apart from that the highlight for him was pushing coins into the somewhat empty voluntary donation boxes and going up the stairs and back down in the lift. Three times. Girl remained passively unimpressed throughout.

What was worth remarking on was the museum cafe, which was had a really beautiful brunch menu, gorgeous food well above the usual standard found throughout the county, a good cup of coffee and friendly service too. I will definitely keep an eye out for new museum exhibitions so I've an excuse to return for another plate of mezzes - it gets the thumbs up from all of us!

We don't go into the city centre very often, although we are not far away. So I don't feel too bad about the small fortune we spent. At least I should be able to craft the kids their next six pairs of shoes from all the felt and pompoms freshly packed into the art box downstairs.


Thursday 1 March 2012

A Straight Answer

What shall we do today?

No.

Shall we go for a walk?

No.

Would you like to colour?

No.

Will we stay inside?

No.

Do you want to go in the car?

No.

Are you hungry?

No.

Would you like a drink of water?

No.

Shall I sing a song?

No.

You put your left hand in, your left hand out-

NO!

Do you want to watch TV?

No TV.

That's a stumper

Do you want a cuddle?

No cuddle.

Do you want to wash your hands?

N- mmmm. No.

Can you please just tell me what you want?

whine

You need to say it in words or I can't help you.

loud whine

Are you tired? Do you need a nap?

NOOOOO.

Would you like a story?

Mmmmm.

What story do you want?

Tillah! Tillah!

Oh, you want Fidgety Fish?

YES.


Happy World Book Day!



Wednesday 29 February 2012

Lurgy

Kids' fevers are like ghosts. They jump up on you from nowhere, usually in the middle of the night, scare you half to death, then when morning comes around they are gone without a trace leaving you wondering if you dreamed the whole thing.

Boy has had a mild on again off again fever for a few weeks. He's been on good form so I figured it was one of those viruses that disappear themselves. In Scotland I might have taken him to the doctor the first time he was sent home from crèche. But here in Ireland I have to think twice if it is worth spending 40 euro for a doctor to tell me it's a virus that will go away itself. Last year I took him three times in the space of a month. That's some pricey virus, considering there's nothing else a GP can actually do.

So on Monday night when the fever returned I did my usual frantic google searches on "Celsius to Fahrenheit", "when to call your doctor" and "calpol and neurofen together?". I should be a human calculator for the first, and a human medical dictionary for the others the number of times I've entered these search terms since Boy was born. Not that a couple of fourteen year olds on Yahoo Answers advising cold baths and dialling for an ambulance really counts as consulting a medical dictionary.

We had the Calpol and baby Nurofen out and practically drilled Boy a new earhole by taking his temperature so often. Girl thought it was all a fantastic game and pretended to be asleep any time Boy was up only to start howling the second he was back asleep. Sometimes she mistimed it and we were all up together.

Tuesday morning: everyone is pink cheeked and sparkly eyed, looking like they've had really splendid night's sleep (except mammy and daddy, naturally). I keep Boy off crèche in case the fever returns. At lunchtime I think feck it, he's totally fine and I can't keep my eyes open much longer, so I drop him off at crèche. Twenty minutes later I get a call saying he has a temperature of 38.8, could I come and get him.

I don't stop to google the conversion. I know 39 is high and that's close enough. As I pick him up I can feel the disapproving stares from the crèche staff. I mumble something about him being fine when I dropped him off. I feel like the worst mother in the world, allowing my child to cast a sickly shadow over the super healthy glow of all the other kids. I feel sure they think I knowingly dropped him off with a high fever, probably because I wanted some peace and quiet. Then I stop to measure how much truth there would be in such an assessment considering how wrecked I am. There's enough recognition to feel guilty. The self imposed guilt combined with the recollection of him bounding around like a slinky this morning is enough to make me indignant about the dirty looks I may or may not have imagined. My head is tired and busy.

There is no doctor's appointment available until the following day. Boy's temperature creeps up and up despite maxing out on pain relievers. He is whining but too tired to tell me what he wants.

After another night of fun and games, during which Boy's temperature spiked to nearly 40 degrees before he started demanding Elmo and stories at 4am, post diarrhoea and Calpol. Girl was quite happy as long as everyone else was awake and entertaining her. When the sun came up - you guessed it, the kids were looking expectantly for entertainment, perfect temperatures and nothing but a runny nose and a smelly bin to show for the previous night.

We went down to the GP anyway. I was so sure she would look at me like I was crazy for bringing such a healthy looking child to see her that I didn't confess that his whining was because in my sleep deprived stupor I hadn't given anyone any breakfast. So she took his ravenous protesting and thermometer battered lugs for sickness and by the time the fever returned at 2pm Boy was already started on an antibiotic.

The TV embargo is out the window until I can get some sleep. So it's been an orgy of Sesame Street, Snow White and CeeBeebies much to Boy's snottery delight. If I find Boy and Girl hiding hot water bottles under the covers Dennis the Menace style when they see me coming with the thermometer in years to come I've only myself to blame.

Monday 27 February 2012

Whirlwind Supermammies

We spent this morning at the home of a friend with two children around the same ages as Girl and Boy. I sat and watched in awe as this lady crammed about a month's worth of entertainment - and a hearty lunch - into two hours.

Boy was utterly enthralled as toy trains followed play dough, stories, hide and seek and a box full of toys - and aren't all toys so much better when they belong to someone else? When the rice-filled balloons came out all four children were bursting with glee. The balloons burst too, of course but not before lots of headers, throwing, kicking, catching and rubbing on the small babies' heads to produce some seriously spiky do's. My favourite part of the morning was watching Boy's wee pal dancing 'The Robot'.

By the time we were ready to leave, both babies were exhausted - as was mammy. They looked mildly disappointed when things returned to their usual pace this afternoon. Eh mammy we've been playing with these pipe cleaners for seven minutes here, what's next?

Sunday 26 February 2012

Piano, Rugby and Healthy Chocolate Spread

One of my favourite ways to entertain the babies is to play the piano to them. I play for myself every day, which they sometimes enjoy, sometimes join in with, and applaud as frequently as they scream in protest. But when I play nursery rhymes and tunes they know it is so rewarding when they show recognition at a tune and sing or dance along. Boy is finally at the stage where he can make requests too. For a long time I used to have to play the first few bars of song after song while he shouted NO! until I reached whichever one he wanted. Which could be anything from The Wheels on the Bus to The Entertainer. Now he can actually name the song he wants, which makes the whole process much more rewarding.

We worked our way through a bunch of In the Night Garden songs, the Waybuloo theme, Baa Baa Black Sheep and Frere Jacques. I finally stopped midway through Row Your Boat when I realised Girl was not squealing in delight, but squealing for help as Boy was "rowing" her rather over enthusiastically around the room. So if you do play any instrument, however badly, remember to put away the Bach now and again and see if you can pick out some nursery tunes for your wee ones. I love to let them have a bash too when they want to, and if I don't applaud con brio I am soon put in my place.

This afternoon B and I sat down to watch Scotland play France in the Six Nations rugby tournament. Though Scotland lost the game, and I lost my ever hopeful bet at the bookies, the game was eventful enough for Boy and Girl to both get the hang of shouting, cheering and clapping. Boy even clutched his hair in mock dismay when a young Scottish player grabbed a fine opportunity only to be denied by a gigantic French Ent. But the big grin and lack of genuine woe on his face betrayed the parrot fashion of his actions. Spending an hour and a half this way is quite eventful for our family, since this is the most exposure the babies are ever likely to get of TV sport. Unless Yojojo pretending to be a carrot and chanting om counts.

Today was also unusually successful food-wise. Boy finally asked for a beetroot biscuit after he realised that Girl had almost made her way through the entire batch. He even ate the whole thing. I also whipped together a genius home-made dairy free no-added-sugar chocolate spread recipe that I stole from Dr Oz:

Six medjool dates, half an avocado and four level tablespoons of cocoa powder, plus a little water to thin. Zapped with the hand blender, it looks like nutella, tastes really, really sweet and presto! Boy is eating dates and avocado! I scooped it into a pot and gave him the jug and a spoon to scrape it with. He was in seventh heaven and has been in a fantastic mood ever since. He even ate all his dinner, no fuss. There was a mild panic when we thought his toe was bleeding in the bath, but it turned out to be chocolate.

So despite losing a fiver I'd say all in all, today was a winner.

Saturday 25 February 2012

Kinvara and Home Cinema

We've been planning a visit to Dunguaire Castle for months and finally got around to taking the kids there today along with one of Boy's wee girlfriends and her mammy. If only we had checked the opening times, we would have known that the castle is closed October-March.

In the end we had a great morning anyway. We took a stroll around the castle, stopping to pick up a geocache halfway round. The lower walk was easy enough for the toddlers to manage but not obvious enough to entice the throngs of tourists jamming their noses and camera lenses through the locked castle gates. It also offered a good view across the water's edge to the pretty village of Kinvara, about half a mile from the castle itself. On reflection, the babies probably had a better time scrambling over the grass and rocks than they would have if we had gone straight in to the castle.

Afterwards we took another walk around Kinvara itself and Boy and his pal had a merry old time chasing each other, blowing bubbles, and picking daisies to stick in their woolly hats (Girl was forcibly adorned too).

After deciding we needed a coffee to warm up we soon discovered that the castle is not the only part of Kinvara that closes for winter. Our favourite spot, Burren Beo was closed, as was my friend's cafe of choice. In the end we stopped into Keogh's pub. Their staff were mighty understanding about the two mischief makers - as were their other customers who happened to be friends, thank goodness for the small small world of County Galway.

On the drive home I reflected how much more fun Boy appears to have when there is another child his age to share it with. I'm hoping when Girl gets on her feet they can provide that company to each other.

This evening we tried watching a proper video all together for the first time. B lit a fire, we all got into PJs and I made popcorn and hot dogs for dinner with bottles of water (that's all the food groups, right?). We decided to shun the more predictable Disney cartoon classics for my favourite childhood film, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Sorry Johnny Depp, you're cute and all that but no one could ever replace Gene Wilder in the role of Mr Wonka. That actor is one of a kind. Moreover, Oompa Loompas should not all look exactly alike - terribly racist, or at least xenophobic towards Loompaland. But enough of social politics for the insane...

We hoped at least to get to Augustus Gloop's downfall and the first Oompa Loompa chorus before one of the babies lost interest, puked, or otherwise halted the proceedings. In the end we somehow, wonderfully, managed to watch the whole thing. Girl fell asleep somewhere around Violet, you're turning violet, Violet! and Boy was utterly enraptured by the whole film. From the rippling chocolate backdrop of the opening credits he was glued to the screen. He smiled, giggled, danced and didn't seem at all bothered by the scary bits (like that freaky boat ride, anyone?) His only protest came when Mammy overquoted certain bits of the film, and sang along with a little too much gusto but to be fair, Daddy was about ready to throw his popcorn at me too. By the end Boy was happily exhausted and went down to bed with no fuss and a look of sleepy content only matched by yours truly.

We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams...

Friday 24 February 2012

Bubbles and Puddles

After some recent "Long Walks" I came up with the perfect cunning plan to help us move forward and beat the snails to storytime at the library today. Old faithful, a bottle of bubble mix. The plan was to blow bubbles and have Boy chase them, allowing us all to enjoy a walk without constantly trying to find ways to hurry up a bit (ooh, want to walk on that wall up there? ooh look at that dog across the road, come on, let's run and chase that jogger etc etc).

Unfortunately I forgot to have a planning meeting with my old buddy, the freezing February wind, who decided it would be a fine jape to blow the bubbles in the opposite direction to where I was heading, no matter which direction that might be. Twice I had to run and pop the bubbles myself to stop Boy chasing them onto the road. However once he knew I had them there was no going back. More bubbles! Want more more more! Want more bubbles! At one point I discovered if I knelt down the bubbles went straight towards Girl in the buggy, much to her delight. They also hit the ground faster and because it had been raining, many of them hit the ground without bursting, so we were able to see the rainbow colours and our own reflections before stamping on them and screaming POP in a very un-pop-like fashion. That was fun.

Boy spotted some dew on a green plant and spent a good while trying to pop the dewdrops while exclaiming "flower bubbles!" Wrong on both counts, but cute, so I let him off.

Finally I caved and used the even older faithful - puddles - to distract from the contrary bubble fiasco. Boy has a fine pair of colourful wellies that I NEVER remember to put on him. I convince myself several times a week that it's OK for him to ruin his shoes at this point because he'll surely grow out of them soon anyway and need a new pair. I don't listen to the tiny voice of reason who points out that Boy has freakishly small feet that never seem to grow - he's been in the same pair of size fives for nearly six months, and that's only because he lost one of the last pair (also size five). His toenails don't grow either, but I'll save that mystery story for another day.

So the pair of us danced up the street jumping in every puddle we could find on the pavement - yes, that big puddle on the road is for cars - and forgot about wet socks and shoes for a couple of hours. The librarian probably wasn't delighted by the footprints, but both babies were tired out by the time we arrived and for the first time Boy sat (or stood) and listened to a story, while Girl sat on my knee flashing toothy grins to anyone that looked her way.

There's something quite therapeutic about splashing in puddles and I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry that Girl missed out on the fun. Her day will come too though, probably sooner than I would like. I just hope she reminds me to put on her wellies.

Thursday 23 February 2012

Love Your Library

Our local library is less than a ten minute walk from home and somewhat underused by my family. The children adore books and B and I are both readers, but he is a Kindle man and I like to buy my books either new or used. I like to have the freedom of spills, tears and tears (you heard me), especially with Boy and Girl around. To be honest, I haven't finished a book of my choice since Girl was 3 months old, and that was a book of very short stories by Gina Ochsner.

Boy likes the library, but tends to take up all my attention when we are there, especially if it is Storytime, which takes place every Friday. Boy has yet to sit through a whole page of whatever story the patient -if somewhat dry- librarian is reading aloud. Nevertheless he likes the buzz of the other children and enjoys the crayons and fetching me books to read to him (always the Gruffalo, then The Gruffalo's Child, no matter how many times I explain that we already have these at home).

However today I had Girl all to myself and thought I would take her on a rare visit to the library without Boy, so that for once she wouldn't be left in the buggy chewing on a manky old board book while I chase Boy around the bookcases begging him to sit and enjoy any book that doesn't feature the Little Brown/Big Bad Mouse.

She really did enjoy having a story read just to her - I picked Wilde's The Selfish Giant, more out of fond nostalgia than age appropriateness. It did have lovely watercolour illustrations and Girl sat and poking and pulling gently at the pictures while I read her the story. We even made it as far as the Giant's heart melting for the little boy too short to climb a tree before she lost interest. We then looked at a couple of touchy feely books, although they didn't have any from our favourite series, Watt & Wells' "That's not my...".

Eventually Girl's happy noises started to get slightly fractious and I got ready to leave. But we didn't walk out of the door before I renewed my library membership and picked myself up a little treat. Once Girl fell asleep I strolled to the nearest cafe where I sat with cup of tea and lemon and devoured Sanctuary a Galway murder mystery by Ken Bruen - thanks to AnnieJMac for the impassioned recommendation.

Later this evening B gave an astounding rendition of The Gruffalo's Child to the delight of Boy and Girl. I've no idea how he keeps the enthusiasm in his voice even 274 recitations later. I'm frequently tempted to video him and post it on youtube for quick access during those times when I just can't read it again.

I feel I've already got my €2 worth from rejoining the library and may even get another book finished before the end of 2012. One that isn't by Julia Donaldson that is. Happy reading!

Wednesday 22 February 2012

Vegetable Dog Treats for Fussy Boys

Just a quickie tonight as I am wrecked (said the mammy to the daddy...)

I went all Nigella and cooked up some beetroot biscuits in a desperate attempt to get some veggies (and therefore vitamins) down Boy's throat. I boiled up my own beets but you can use the ready cooked kind (not pickled!). You could also replace the beets with carrots, spinach or courgette for different colours and flavours.

The recipe (adapted from Annabel Karmel and www.weelicious.com):

Mix together a cup of plain flour with a teaspoon of baking powder, a small handful of grated cheese and a pinch of salt. Mix in one grated beetroot (I used a zester for a really fine shred) and two tablespoons of sunflower oil. Knead to a dough, adding a little water from the beets if needed to moisten it up. Roll out and cut into bite sized pieces. You could easily use a biscuit cutter for fancy shapes. Throw into a pre-heated oven for 15 minutes at a high heat.

I was quite pleased with the result until my friend came over for lunch and asked why I had made dog treats.

Later, Boy took one bite and looked like I'd poisoned him. I think he was expecting strawberry flavour because of the colour. However when Girl munched hers noisily in front of him he came back for another sniff, so I think I will try him again with these tomorrow.

He only has to eat 20 of them for one of his five-a-day. I should be on the food network channel.

Tuesday 21 February 2012

The Pancake and the Pig

Stop! You look like a delicious pancake. Please let me eat you.

My impromptu pancake art for the parent and toddler group this morning consisted of colouring/drawing a face on a circle of paper and sticking on a couple of lollypop sticks for arms (and legs, and hair, in the case of one wee girl who really got into it). And calling it a pancake man helped too.

But the real fun came from the retelling of The Big Pancake, a classic fairy story which happens to be part of the Ladybird 606D "Well-Loved Tales" series of the 1970s. Sadly I own very few of these books for my children to enjoy, and although I wish they could see the wonderful artwork by Robert Lumley and Eric Winter, the stories themselves are fondly emblazoned onto my memory from my own childhood.

The Big Pancake is a tale of a pancake cooked up for seven hungry little boys who end up chasing it down the street. In a similar fashion to The Gingerbread Boy the pancake is chased by various people and animals who want to eat it up but it rolls on down the street refusing to stop until a savvy pig offers to accompany the pancake into a forest. The pancake accepts a ride across the river on the pig's snout, and snap, the pig gobbles him up. If only he'd read The Gingerbread Boy he would have surely seen this coming (though the cunning beneficiary was a fox in that story, I think). As with so many of these stories, the greatest enjoyment comes from the repetition and simplicity that makes children feel like the story is an old favourite from just a few pages in.

If you do look for a copy of this story I would strongly recommend picking up an earlier Ladybird edition as the publishers replaced the vastly superior Lumley illustrations in later editions for some unfathomable reason. Or maybe that's the nostalgia speaking.

In case you were wondering, we did eat pancakes today too. Our lovely neighbour threw a little pancake party, though Girl was only interested in chewing a magazine and Boy spent the entire evening demanding chocolate cake - he'd seen me bring over the remaining cookie cups we made yesterday. I got mine though...and it was a delicious pancake!

Monday 20 February 2012

Tea Party and Baking Cookie Cups

Last week I picked up a lovely dolls' porcelain tea set for a real bargain. I couldn't wait any longer for Girl to get old enough to use it with her dolls, so at lunch time today I sat down on the living room playmat with Girl, Boy, Upsy Daisy and Teddy and we enjoyed a little sexism-free doll's tea party.



When planning the tea party in my head I had all sorts of fantastic and super creative Enid Blyton-esque ideas for what to serve. Rainbow jelly, home made sausage rolls, cream scones and real cooled tea for starters. But in time honoured tradition, I couldn't really be bothered spending hours on a spectacular tea party at which Boy would likely turn up his nose, and which Girl would need liquidised anyway. So I poured a drop of milk in the teapot and put a pinwheel sandwich (peanut butter and banana) atop a slice of strawberry on each plate.

Well I was pleasantly surprised with how much entertainment this simple spread provided. Boy insisted on pouring cup after cup of "tea" for himself and the dolls, while Girl sat really well and gobbled up the strawberry and sandwiches. We pretended to feed the dolls and made lots of yummy noises. Although a fair bit of milk ended up on the floor, it was a lovely way for Boy to practise his co-ordination and pouring skills, while enjoying the whole social ritual of a tea party.



Once we had finished, Boy gathered up all the dishes unprompted and took them to the kitchen sink (after attempting to put them in the bin, but still). Then he asked to wash his hands. This is usually code for "I want to stand at the sink and see how much water I can direct onto everything within 20 feet." But actually he wanted to continue playing with the little tea set. He filled the cups with water and drank from them, then "washed" them and put them on the drying rack. Over, and over, and over again.

Later, inspired the success of the tea party I went all Nigella and made chocolate cookie cups filled with yoghurt and fruit (and a sneaky spoon of nutella for mammy and daddy) for after dinner. They were so simple to make and looked quite fancy and inviting. And they were pretty tasty too. I used my tried and tested chocolate chip cookie recipe which Boy helped with (flour EVERYWHERE but who cares!) and a muffin tin. We put a ball of cookie dough in each muffin case and poked a hole in the middle, then baked in a hot pre-heated oven for 15 minutes. Once cooled, put a spoon of yoghurt in the middle of each cup and top with a couple of pieces of fruit. Easy peasy.



I hope we have another tea party soon, if not for another chance to use the sweet porcelain tea set, then for another reason to make yummy chocolate cookie cups and serve them to friends. And to encourage all this manly dish washing of course.



Sunday 19 February 2012

Ailwee Cave and Birds of Prey Centre

It was another really beautiful day today - and a proper sunny Sunday in February demands nothing less than a trip to the beautiful Burren. We recently spent a fiver's worth of Tesco clubcard vouchers on a €20 token for the Ailwee caves in north Clare and today seemed like the perfect day to use them. My favourite part of any day trip to this part of the country is - no competition - the drive from Kinvara to Ballyvaughan. On a sunny day the Burren hills to the left look almost purple, Galway Bay on the right is the kind of blue found in Mediterranean travel brochures, the houses dotted around look like Lego creations and the views are just breathtaking.

The Ailwee Cave is set on a large site with enough to occupy a family or group of any age for at least several hours. We buy a combined ticket for the Bird of Prey centre and the cave, costing us an extra €14 on top of our token. By the time we arrive it is nearly midday and we head straight to the Bird of Prey Centre where we take a walk around the owls, hawks, buzzards and other birds, who eye up Girl like a particularly rare feast they might partake in if we would only turn away for a moment (we don't). Soon it is time for the flying display and we sit on wooden benches facing a truly beautiful backdrop of Ailwee Mountain. B and I have been to Disney-type bird shows before, but this is quite different. There are only three birds shown - an owl, an eagle and a falcon. Although the birds do fly for the reward of some unspecified furry looking titbits (and I'm sure I saw some toes too), they do not perform "tricks" and the atmosphere is one of education and caring for the birds. The speakers are knowledgeable and friendly. They encourage questions and there is even an opportunity for older children (fine, and me) to have a rather friendly eagle perch on a leather-gloved arm. Both babies really enjoy the show, despite its length and lack of pizzazz and Boy spends the next hour or so asking "where's the owl?" Or he might be saying "where's Elmo?". Sometimes it is hard to tell. We leave shortly before the end of the show, as both babies are reaching the end of their patience.

There is a charming but steep woodland walk up to the cave, but we decide to take the car up so as to reach the top before closing time next Friday. We don't have long to wait for the next cave tour. The tour lasts around 30 minutes, and buggies are not allowed. A guide takes us along the first part of the loop, then lets us find our way back ourselves. The cave is interesting, but not spectacular. While there are stalagmites and stalactites, waterfalls and a few bones, there are better examples of these features in other showcaves in Ireland (e.g. Crag Cave in Co Kerry). Nevertheless, Boy really enjoys the cave. He walks most of the tour himself and stays in good humour long past his nap time. Girl falls asleep in B's arms.

Once the cave tour is finished we head back into the sunshine. Boy tries to drag us up the Ailwee mountain itself. Sadly Girl is now awake and yelling and B's arms have lost all feeling so we have to cut the walk very short. This was a pity as it was such a beautiful day and there is a lovely mountain path with truly stunning views. We leave vowing to come back and climb the mountain again when the babies are a little older. We stop at the farm shop on the way out, but despite promises of homemade fudge and award winning cheese, the shop is closed, so we head home munching some award-free, mass produced apple rice cakes instead. The Ailwee Cave is best enjoyed as a fine weather day out, and while the site has a few more attractions during summer (like a kiddies' train ride), we felt it was worth coming in the off-season to avoid the huge crowds of tourists that flock here in summer. We understand why they do, though.

Saturday 18 February 2012

A Pain in the Swings

Play parks seem such a simple, cost-free, and fun way of spending time with your children. So when I saw what a sunny morning it was I wondered why I hadn't taken the kids in so long. There is a small but very adequate playpark less than five minute's walk from home, so I set off with the double buggy to give B a couple of hours' peace and quiet.

Less than half an hour later I suddenly remembered why we hadn't been to the park in so long. We head straight for the swings as usual. Boy and Girl sit side by side in the baby swings and we indulge in the usual Ready, steady, go! and Got your feet! Got your tummy! Got your nose! Both babies are in fits of giggles, grinning at each other and generally the picture of happy families. After about 10 or 15 minutes I try and persuade Boy to try playing on the slide or the roundabout for a change. He shakes his head, so I push for another five minutes. Now Girl is getting cold. Out she comes and gets wrapped up in the buggy.

I gently extract Boy and nudge him towards the slide. He climbs the ladder, with a bit of help then stands at the top whining incoherently. In the end I have to lift him down and he runs straight back to the swings. A familiar creeping sense of foreboding has suddenly come across me. After another five minutes, my hands are numb and Girl is turning slightly blue. The sun may be shining, but let's be real here: it's Galway, and it's February.

The usual snack and chugger bribery has failed. Eventually I drag Boy kicking and screaming from the park just in time to run into a friend taking her pink and smiling baby out for a morning stroll. I try to swap buggies without her noticing but she's too smart for me. Boy is headbutting the side bars of the buggy and wailing as if I have just deprived him of the only pleasure he has ever experienced. This tantrum lasts half an hour (yes, I timed it). That's longer than we spent in the park altogether. Eventually he falls asleep, nose smooshed into the front bar of the buggy, just moments before we reach home.

It may be a while before we go to the swings again. There is plenty of other fun to be had: watch this space...

Friday 17 February 2012

Friday Fun

Today has been a somewhat frenetic mix of playing with friends (Boy), gossip with other mammies (me), puking (Girl), sleeping (Girl and Boy), cooking (me), eating (me, B and Girl), more puking (Girl), refusing to eat (Boy), tantrums (me and Boy), jogging in the rain (me and B), cutting, gluing and colouring (me, Boy and B), eating glue (Girl), yet more puking (Girl) and collapsing with exhaustion (all of the above).

It was great to catch up with a couple of friends this morning, and Boy was thrilled to see his little girlfriend. No clever activities needed, just a lot of shrieking, banging, running in circles and cuddling. I got to hold an ADORABLE three-week old baby, and I introduced another friend to the joys of feeding her almost-2 year-old toddler a lemon for the first time (with camera at the ready, naturally).

Thursday 16 February 2012

Foam Party

Sadly I am not 19 and getting soapy drunk in the student union again. Please, that's so 1996.

Nope, I'm doing a version of the good old shaving-foam-on-a-tray activity. This one has the added fun element of actually making the foam yourself using a glug of Fairy liquid, a splash of water and a hand blender. To those of you who just thought, "eww, but I use my blender for food", hurray! I'm not the only dullard on this web page! To those of you who just thought "what an eejit", perhaps the University Challenge blog might be more up your virtual street.

I first tried the activity this morning with Girl, and although I didn't get the squeals of delight I had imagined after reading the idea from HandsOnAsWeGrow, the foam definitely caught her attention and she plunged her hands straight into it.

Sometimes it is hard to appreciate a sensory experience like this from the point of view of an eight month old. While she was exploring the foam with her hands (and mouth, naturally, yuck) I was immediately wondering why she wasn't enjoying the activity. Why isn't she smiling and cackling with glee? I must be doing something wrong. So I started splashing about in the foam myself, which resulted very quickly in a big splodge of soapsuds flying into her eye and splat, that was the end of that. It was only afterwards I realised it might have been wiser to just let her get on with it instead of trying to force the foamy fun.

When Boy returned home from creche, the leftover jug of foam had returned to its original state, so we got to whizz it up again with the hand blender. Girl was immediately itching to get her hands and mouth sparkly clean but Boy was reluctant to even touch the foam. I tried driving his chuggers through it - he was not impressed - and putting splodges on my face and Girl's head. He managed to crack a smile at this but still wouldn't touch. However when I got out some measuring cups he immediately got stuck in, scooping up foam with one cup and pouring it into another.

Overall it was a pretty successful activity. The babies got to experience the texture, smell, taste(!) and other sensations from playing with the foam. I learned a good lesson about taking a back seat. My hand blender is now VERY clean. And I am very keen to see whether Himself notices that I'm just refilling his shaving cream with washing up liquid from now on.