I have not taken children to a concert yet. But I imagine I would be quite good at it.
I am not good at games. I don’t like making crowns. Or playing trains. Or pretending to eat belly-button chocolate (don’t ask, it’s a family thing). I imagine I will be rubbish at watching children’s sporting matches, as I have a tendency to drift off when balls start flying around in front of me. I also dislike taking my children out to lunch, playing in the park and speaking baby talk to newborns. However, I do have some parenting skills of which I am proud. Some may say weirdly proud — I would just say proud.
1. I am an EXCELLENT story reader. I give it everything I have got — whether it’s pathos, humour, kindness or poignancy (not a commonly required emotion in board books, but you never know) — I can carry it off. I have been known to receive a small round of applause at the end of Dig Dig Digging and if you thought you couldn’t eke out a tear from a 2 year old at a rendition of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, then you were wrong. Read more...
So here’s a question for all of you far more experienced people than me – what’s with the ‘big boy bed’ business? Two and a half year old son is still in a cot. I know – HORRIFYING. Many people can’t get over the fact and I am sure they are whispering about poor downtrodden son behind my back.
I have stayed in various different locations over the past few months and the question is always the same – is he in a bed yet? The answer is no, he is not.
So tell me, am I running the risk of a child used to gazing upwards at people forever? Will the bars scar him for life and ensure he is well primed for a life of incarceration? Thus far, he seems perfectly content in his cot, and no signs of him whipping off with the family silver just yet. Then again, if you ask English Captain Sensible, most Aussies return to their convict form at some stage anyway. Read more...