Anytime Casper sees a red vehicle or person wearing any red garment, we’re pretty much guaranteed the glorious reaction of frantic waving accompanied by “Mama, Po Ma Pat!”. That chirpy bloke from Greendale, with his black and white and fancy new helicopter has a lot to answer for in our house. With a penchant for Pat and believing every parcel or letter that comes to our house is his, it made the invitation for Cas and I to check out the latest attraction at the fascinating Postal Museum a no-brainer.
After 6 weeks of summer holidays, the remnants of my sanity can be found somewhere at the end of July, my bank balance is about as healthy as a doctors waiting room and I used all my trump activity cards throughout August. But as much as I may have bemoaned the kids for 45.5 days (who’s counting?!) I secretly loved the lazy mornings, action packed days and memories that were made – so I’ve started to look to our football-free weekends this term as mini-adventures to be had to banish the post-summer holidays blues.
I’m not gonna lie, this week over in mamaland has been hard – Tom Hardy/Vinnie Jones/the heels of my feet pre-pedi kinda hard! With a 12 month old cutting his first molars and a desire to get out in a currently not-quite-toddler safe garden (pre-extension) there’s been a lot of whinging, tantrums, tears and mud coated snot.
This week saw the first day in Casper’s 12 months when I watched the clock for bedtime. I filled with resentment every second that passed beyond 6:15pm when Mr Only Girl didn’t walk through the door in order for me to pass responsibility of small person for a molar-induced-whinge free 5 minutes. So, in the sickeningly positive spirit that everyday starts anew, what do you do when life throws you a shit day with a baby on board? Go out! Go out anywhere, just get out! Things are ultimately better when doused in sunshine – this apparently goes for teething bubbas too, as smiles, giggles and eating resumed in the great outdoors.
It doesn’t take a kaleidascopic imagination to please a little person – a duck pond, a park and his favourite ball are sufficient entertainment to ensure sore gums are forgotten and mummy’s sanity is kept in tact. And who knew, apparently swans quite like stale chilli tortillas…