Natural beauty

Hailing the better side of  the British weather, we've been making the most of the bank holiday weekend. Marred only by Husbands fudged efforts to adorn the lunch table with barbeque fayre, we steered clear of D.I.Y. and instead spent the days out in the fresh air being at one with nature. Temple Newsam was our dog walk of choice and Grace has had a blast exploring the woods and learning about bark, moss and other such greeneries. In the last few moments before my iphone 'did one' and went 'kaput' I managed to score this gem of a picture of Grace, chilling out on a bed of grass with the bluebells.

This was before I felt the need to pop a valium and sink a glass of the chilled white in the fridge after hearing that my partner in crime at the practice where I work has lost her waters and is waiting for labour to kick in. I had plans for this week - our last week together before she swans off on maternity leave for an eternity - doesn't she know I'm left feeling up the creak without a paddle? I NEEDED my last week with her. I'm feeling far from tranquil (and frankly neither will she be once labour does indeed start) so I suppose I'd better make the most of these last few hours in the sun before I walk into work tomorrow with what can only be described as heavier shoulders than the ones I left with on Friday. Happy days..... and exciting times..... *new baby alert* *new baby alert*

Silent Sunday

Taking a breather at Temple Newsam

Happy to be out with Uncle Frank in the woods

10-2 Police

Driving home from nursery today, a voice (my muse perhaps) pipes up with some friendly advice... "Two hands!"

Two hands? I realise I'm driving with one hand idling on my knee.

"Two hands, Mummy" the little voice quips once again.

I correct my minor misdemeanour, both hands on the wheel and checking mirrors as if I'm back in my driving test. All is well for a while, we chat about what's for dinner and how I'm going to make it and then again I hear:

"Two hands Mummy!" then more urgently "Do it!

I'm cough guiltily like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. And then I realise I've turned a corner losing my left hand to the gearstick, albeit momentarily. Slightly bemused, we carry on the conversation, only for me to realise that every time I take my left hand off the wheel, hawkeye-Grace in the back will be on my case.

This is all well and good, I counted only fifteen rounds of gear changing on the way home today, enough to niggle at even the most battle-hardened school-run Mums. I'm stymied though - I'm driving us from Yorkshire to Cornwall in a few weeks and the thought of answering the to the 10-2 Police in the back is already filling me with dread!

Excited at the prospect of a day at nursery!

Silent Sunday

Late spring at Temple Newsam

Berrie good friends

Today we had the luxury of shirking housework in lieu of a play date with two good friends, Joanne and her daughter Berrie. We met at the Children's Centre in the village right after the girls were born, when we were both green to motherhood and still in the fog of midwife visits, shock and awe. It's not often we get to meet up now since I started back at work full time and meets are shoe horned into a window on a weekend, but when we do meet up it doesn't take Grace long to shake off her shyness and get down to some good old fashioned play.

My Hewo

Aside from being a great friend and poking his tongue out at random moments throughout the day, Jack Barrett is apparently now also Grace's 'Hewo'.

Driving home in the car from nursery, chatting about her day as we do, Grace is telling me in great detail the ups and downs of her day. She's painted, played in the garden, read stories and all in good spirits until she fell off the slide sideways and hurting her leg. But it's ok, because 'Jack Bawwatt pulled me up' she tells me dramatically and goes on to say that he hugged her better and stopped her crying.

After all that commotion, James stole Grace's Mr Rabbit (which caused a major hoo-harr) and 'Jack Bawwatt got it back for me' (which averted catastrophe) and left Grace feeling content again because not only is Jack her 'fwend', he's her 'hewo' as well. God love him.

 

 



On first (and second) name terms

 

At a time when Grace starts to show form in her artwork, where her random scribbles begin to resemble a cat (with 'blue circles for the eyes' as she merrily reminds me), I notice a change of affection in the friends that she keeps. For a while at nursery she's been joined at the hip to a little boy called Jack, similar age, similar amount of dribble and tantrums. It's a good match. What was an innocent friendship has blossomed into kinship, with Grace becoming coy and hiding her face whenever Jack pokes his tougue out or tugs at her skirt. Asked who she has played with at nursery today, she'll pipe up with 'Jack', then 'Jack Barratt'. Yes, she is on first, and second name terms with her first male friend. We've been talking about first and second names lately.

Gracie 'Yongdale', as she says it. Ever so cute!

 

The Cat, by Grace.

showing signs of multi-tasking, we're getting her used to headphones...

Skimming stones at East Ardsley resevoir