Life Lessons and Lego

 Warning: The content of this post is shamelessly sexist.

1.  Apparently, you can never have too much Lego. 

    

2. If you buy any sets, keep the boxes: it ups their value on Ebay. (Not that the person telling me this will ever let me sell any).

    

3. Any shop that won't let you grope their mini-figure packets prior to buying is not worthy of your money.

    

4. A man will keep playing with Lego long after his child has grown tired with it.

    

5. It's a process thing.

    

6. There is no right way to make a ninja.

    

7. There is, however, an exact right way to make Hogwarts School.

    

8. The vital piece you need to complete Hogwarts School is always the piece that's missing.

    

9. It's about the building, not the playing with the building after completion. Of course.

    

10. Do not become attached to any creation you make for your child. 

     

11. Levels of non-attachment should be in inverse proportion to the number of hours spent in creating said object.

     

12. Some people have a natural ability to manipulate small pieces of plastic.

     

13. This ability might actually be useful one day. (Please, let me know how).

     

14. Lego-addicts are born, not made. (No matter how hard their fathers try).

     

15. You can sort Lego pieces into colour-coded boxes all you like, but your child will dump the entire contents on the carpet as soon as you're finished.

     

16. Lego tables look great, but the floor is where it's at.

     

17. Lego is really (I mean, really) painful if stepped on with bare feet.  

 

Picture Postcard

Today's post is inspired by Tara's Gallery. (If you want to join in, you can find out all you need over at her wonderful blog, Sticky Fingers).

Dear England,

Having a great time on Vancouver Island but still really missing you. The rainforest here is awesome, but somehow I find myself hankering after beech woods and bluebells...

...and then there's sunrise over the Thames (when the mist clings close to the water and willow tendrils trail in green); there's blackbirds singing; and wood pigeons; and proper robins (not these overgrown imposters); there's family; and friends (Little Angel, Poached Pear,  Ninja's Mum, and the One Who Reminds My Dog of a Poodle...yes, Tess, that is you); and all the wonderful kids at Parayhouse School; there's buildings that predate 1900; and Cafe Nero; and France so close I can taste it; there's real hot cross buns; and Radio 4 (preferably together with a cup of Cafe Direct); and a proper, paper Guardian (the Saturday edition strewn across the table, scattered with toast crumbs, smudged with marmalade, ringed with coffee); there's the London Underground (with more variety in one carriage than you'll find in the whole of Greater Victoria); there's browsing in a shop, without being "helped"; and there's buying a bottle of wine at the supermarket; at almost anytime of day; and drinking it on the way home (if you really want to) with no risk of being arrested; and there's Waitrose and Sainsbury's and Tesco (even if I do have to pack my own shopping)... 

...Which reminds me: please send Heinz baked beans (minus the maple syrup and molasses), Sacla olive and tomato sauce, and Marks & Spencer's underwear department.

Really wish (bits of you) were here.

Much love,

Claire

P.S. You can keep the coalition

Silent Sunday

See more Silent Sundays here

Kid-Friendly Places to Eat in Victoria BC

Now, eating out with children in tow is not every parent's favourite past-time. (I generally try to avoid it- along with Emergency visits in the middle of the night and yeast infections). But, occasionally, we all need to feel human again. So, if you're contemplating a bite to eat beyond the safety of your own kitchen, here are three very different (but equally reliable) kid-friendly places to eat in Victoria B.C.

1) Crumsby's

I hope you've already discovered Crumsby's (tucked away in Estevan village), because it's definitely worth a visit. Not strictly, a "play-cafe", it is very much geared to preschool kids: from the toys and the mini-cups and saucers, to the step stool and change-table in the bathroom.
For kids, what small person wouldn't enjoy spilling tea (or apple juice or milk) from their very own teapot? And child-sized cupcakes too.
For parents, it's perfect on a rainy day, when you simply must get out of the house-their direct-trade coffee is amazing and you might even get a few uninterrupted moments to enjoy it, while your kids explore the (mostly Melissa and Doug) play equipment.
Oh, in case your interested, they serve more than just cupcakes too: check out the menu here.

2) Fisherman's Wharf

Food aside, Fisherman's Wharf is a great family destination on a sunny afternoon: a fabulous playground (with equally fabulous view), houseboats, float planes, clear, deep water teeming with marine-life, plus a handful of resident seals.
And then there's the fish and chips...
Whether you choose Barb's or the Fish Store (our favourite), you'll get your money's worth: an adult 2-piece portion easily caters to one parent and one small child (although, at four, Jem really needs his own serving if we're not to feel hard-done-by).

 

 

 

3) The Veranda at the Empress

 

Not an everyday choice but, if you're feeling fancy, the Veranda is hard to beat (and not as pricey as you might fear). Being outdoors, it easily absorbs noise, mess and manic bursts of activity. And, with both the grounds and the hotel to explore, there's plenty of scope for table-breaks. In addition, staff provide colouring sheets and crayons, and there's a reasonably-priced kids' menu with all the usual suspects (although Jem preferred our mixed appy plate-olives, prosciutto and cheese-to his burger and fries). The summer 2012 menu will be available online soon.

Morning

Today's post is inspired by Tara's Gallery. (If you want to join in, you can find out all you need on her wonderful blog, Sticky Fingers).

Mornings used to be so stressful: 

  

Wake up; doze; wake up; doze; crawl from bed at the last possible moment; shower, grab a piece of toast and run for the train. All the time fretting about what needed to get done that day.

Now they go something like this:  

As soon as my eyes open, a small boy opens his mouth. "Morning Mummy. Let's get up and dress as cowboys and hog-tie the Ninjas and fly to Neptune and come back to bed and have stories and ..."

You get the picture.

Of course, some days, I dream of the old, off-to-work routine. 

(I used to shower? Every morning?)

(I used to sit all alone on a train for twenty minutes? Really, all alone? Twice a day?)

(I read the paper, filed my nails, stared out of the window and thought my own, uninterrupted thoughts?)

But mostly (sleep-deprivation aside),  I prefer Jem's approach: why worry what the day may bring when there a million marvelous things you can do before breakfast?

Motherhood

Before I had a baby, I thought cloth diapers were a great idea. 

(You know, those teeny-weeny white ones that could barely catch a sneeze).

 Before I had a baby, I thought I needed seven hours sleep. 

(This is the first/last time Jem slept in his own bed).

Before I had a baby, I thought my husband was a wonderful man. 

(Now, I know he's a saint).

So, what has motherhood taught me? 

To (really) appreciate my own mother. 

To (really) admire my husband. 

To (completely, utterly, unconditionally) adore the funny, little creature who's lassoed my heart so tight that at times I can barely breathe.

And I've finally learned to grow up. (Almost).

Happy Mothers' Day :)

Stay-at-Home Economics

I want (amongst many things):

- an iPad

- a pair of mini Uggs (preferably tan)

- a clear, vinyl shower curtain (with blue and green patterned fish, available from Home Hardware for $29.99)

But I'm a stay-at-home mum and, on one salary, we can't afford any of these things. (Okay,  maybe on a good week we could stretch to the shower curtain).

So, I make do with an ancient laptop (circa 2001), a pair of flip-flops, a murky grey curtain for the bath and my four-year old son, Jem. 

Today, he played in his hand-me-down paddling pool in the backyard, while I pruned and weeded and dipped in and out of his adventures: the Beer Barbosas battling the Navies, all swimming for their lives as the Lagoon Monster barfed lava from his bot. 

And my heart swelled with riches I'd never imagined I needed. 

Now, I know I'm lucky to be able to stay home- we're church mice but at least we eat- and I know not every mum would thrive in my place. But me, I wouldn't have missed a moment. 

Not even for an iPad.