My local supermarket has a prize draw running at the moment. Write your name, address and phone number on the docket they give you each time you shop there, and you go into the draw to win one of 100 prizes of “a week’s worth of groceries” (valued at $250). Very nice. But… although it would be very nice to win $250 of groceries, truth to tell it would probably end up being spent on wine (oh yes! supermarkets in NZ are able to sell wine and beer, unlike the very dry emporia in South Australia). So I have taken to filling out the dockets handed to me in the name of the local women’s refuge.
We have been stressed from time to time by pencil cases not being brought home, or pencil cases being brought home and used for homework but not taken back to school, resulting in trouble at school. So I have finally gotten around to implementing MrsDavy’s excellent suggestion, and I have set up a home work box, which contains pencils and pens and pencil sharpeners and rubbers (erasers for my USian readers) and paper and coloured pencils and glue sticks.
MrsDavy is my parenting guru. Her daughters are just a little older than mine, so she has been a guide and inspiration to me. Whenever something was worrying me, or I needed some advice, I would ring her up and ask, and she would inevitably have some sage advice. For example, when Ms Twelve was Miss Two, she stopped eating, and had only the tiniest meals. I called MrsDavy in a panic, who said, “Don’t worry. She’ll start eating again when she’s five.” And she did. MrsDavy taught me how to relax with my parenting. Also, she has been a great source of helpful hints, such as the homework box. And that children should get half their age in pocket money.
I recommend finding yourself a parenting guru if possible. Preferably someone you like and trust whose children are just a little older than yours. She or he is to be cherished.
My lovely uncle has sent me a pretty baking calendar, with the principle dates (only he spelled it ‘principal’ and now I’m wondering which is right) of the year highlighted. It turns out that there are two principal/ple dates in the year: my birthday, and his. Mine has a saint’s day attached to it: St Kentigern. But his is suspiciously blank.
The neighbourhood cats think that our new guinea pigs are deeply fascinating creatures. They congregate outside the hutch, and sometimes on it, just looking.
I sprung my eldest daughter on Facebook a few nights ago, not in the same degree as Helen, but doing something silly nevertheless. Lifelesson time, I told her. Don’t do silly things, and especially don’t report them on Facebook where I can see them. (All you parents who haven’t done so already should go read about Helen’s Facebook triumph.)
My lovely aunty is in the UK, working on her PhD, and writing interesting accounts of her time there. I particularly enjoyed her post about folk dancing, and another one about rapper dancing in particular. If you have time, check out some of the rapper dancing videos on this rapper dancing site.