Hapy birthday to…Pooh Bear?
The day stretched out before us, nowhere to go, nothing in particular that needed doing. As I wiped the final crumbs of breakfast from the bench, a small furry head poked around the corner. “Hurro, mummy” growled a low voice, which rose suspiciously as the boy behind the voice dissolved into giggles, and showed himself. “Mummy. It’s Pooh Bear’s birthday today! I think we should have a party!”. I eye off the bear, and the boy. This isn’t the first time such a prnouncement has been made – from my recollections, this would be party number three. Or four. I’m kind of starting to lose count. “Really, sweetheart? We can have a party. How old is Pooh Bear?” and for some reason, I’m not all that surprised when the answer quickly comes back – one. I stifle a giggle, and we set to work on a cake – honey pot of course. It comes out, and once cool, we set to decorating. Daddy wanders in, casting an eye over our creation. “What on earth is that supposed to be?”, and doesn’t really seem all that impressed when I declare it a honey pot. Well, I never professed to be a professional cake decorator, and Master Five is blissfully ignorant of it’s non-honey-pot-like characteristics, so I banish the nay-sayers, and we complete the cake. The kettle boiled, a candle found, and we assemble on the patio. I’m not quite sure what the neighbours must have thought as we sang happy birthday to dear Pooh Bear, but the enchantment on a little boys face was worth it. A slice or two, and before long, the cake was gone, the party over, and a bear on a sugar high put to bed
Five weeks in, and I think we are getting a handle on the school routine. Groceries bought and packed away, housework done, coffee consumed. Two little people rested and played. We loaded up the bike trailer and went for a ride. The obligatory swings. Cuddles for a girl, grumpy her routine is being forced into the school day. A photo walk in the backyard with my big boy, and then, not wanting to feel left out, my little boy. The sun is setting on another productive day, and yet, I still hope to squeeze some creative time tonight. Even five minutes for a bit of cutting. Some new fabric is on the way and it’s got the sewjo following. Tonight might be a good chance to clear out the “must do” sewing before the “want to do” sewing becomes pressing. The small people are tucked up in bed. I can hear the low murmur of Daddy reading stories as I sneak five minutes on the computer.Thursday’s almost done, Friday is just around the corner, ready and waiting to herald in a fresh weekend. Busy, but good.