No Parent Required

Well, we finally got off to playgroup today after last weeks false start, as the Spots of Playschool Doom have now all but disappeared.

It wasn't a great start to the morning when I realised it was 7.40am when we woke up. Usually resident screaming alarm clock Ed the Littler is awake at 6am. But not this morning.

With minor panic, I got both kids up and downstairs, stuck drinks in their mouths and threw toast on straight away. I then ran upstairs to look for my "poised, unflappable" mummy clothes, did my hair and make up, and then glugged down a nearly cold coffee.

Luckily, we were ready to leave by 9am, so off we went.

All the way there, and for weeks now, I have been telling her its exciting and mentioning playgroup and how Mummy will drop her off and she can play for a bit.

We got there on time, and what did we see?

A little boy, being dropped off by his Mum, who proceeded to cry buckets (the boy, not the Mum, although he told me on the way out she hated that bit).

I started to think that Mini would see this and bawl too. 

Mary came out to say hello, and made a fuss of her, taking her coat off and showing her her coat peg. Mini couldn't wait, she gave me a quick kiss and off she went. She had spotted a toy phone and quickly made a grab for it. 

Making sure I'd left my number, I left.

I did think all the way up the path, Mary would call me to come back, as Mini would realise I'd left her, and get upset. 

No, not at all.

It was Me who was the big wuss. I had to grab a coffee as  I am ashamed to say I felt like I'd been abandoned! Sad act I know! It was weird walking round the shops, without her trying to pinch half the shop or screaming because she's seen a toy she wants.

At 10.15 I phoned to check she was OK, and Mary said she'd never seen a child more confident than Min, that she'd been happy as anything.

When I went to pick her up, at 11.45, I was told the other new girl had left after 30 minutes, but that Mini had tried to cheer her up. She had been telling all the children about her Gerbillies, (as she calls them), Un, Ooh and Ee.

The only time she got upset?

When I plonked her back in her buggy to come home! She wanted to stay and build sand castles, apparently.

Its left me wondering where the time goes?

One minute, they are totally reliant on you for everything, the next they're off, doing their own thing. 

Hankie please!

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Mini and the Spots of Playschool Doom

Remember my post about how Mini wasn't so Mini anymore, and was off to playschool last week? (If not you can catch up here)

It would appear I spoke too soon.

I should've known, shouldn't I, that in our household, nothing ever turns out quite how we expect, and Min's first day of Playschool has been no exception.

She has been a happy little bunny of late. No child is perfect so we've had the odd Mini Moment, but she's been quite good, singing, jumping around, and being helpful.

Until she came down with what I have christened The Spots of Playschool Doom. (at this point there should be a horror movie type scream and Duh, duh duh! suspenseful background music).

Almost the day after I had spoken to Lovely Mary about her starting Playschool, and had gone out to look for an Upsy Daisy Rucksack, she woke up with a rash on her cheek.

Which quickly spread to her whole face.

At first I thought it was a bit of heat rash. She has a habit of falling asleep submerged under the duvet, so I thought it would calm down.

When it spread in tiny little red spots on both cheeks and her nose and chin, I had to strip her off to check she didn't have measles. An old lady in one of the thrift shops in town thought she'd had measles and gave her two teddies to cheer her up.

But it was just on her face.

Baffled, I took her in Boots, and the pharmacist asked if she'd had a cold recently.

I said yes, and that when she gets a cold, her nose, rather than running like some kids doesn't, so the nasty stuff gets stuck in her nostril and goes hard. Euch.

This, I was told, was the cause.

Ed the Elder took her off to the GP yesterday. She was given antibiotics (which we have to disguise in Nesquik as she can taste it in juice), and a special cream too.

So I phoned Lovely Mary to see if it was still OK to bring her. Fine, as long as she wasn't carrying anything catching, and was happy in herself, as Lovely Mary pointed out if the child is not 100%, then it makes the move to playschool less than a happy experience.

So, we got her new outfit out, put Mummy Teddy White in her rucksack, and were all ready to go.

At which point she nodded off on my lap. At 9am. When Playschool starts at 9.30am. Antibiotic induced drowsiness.

Abort mission!

So, once again I had to phone poor Lovely Mary (who has now given me her mobile number and must think I'm one of those annoying Mums), and let her know the bad news.

She found it hilarious, as the other child who was also starting today had also had to cancel due to illness.

Next Tuesday, we'll try again!

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Mini-Not Quite so Mini Anymore *sob

I am an emotional Mummy at the moment.

My Baby Girl, who has only been babysat for 3 times in under 3 years, and who the longest I have ever been away from was a week when I went into labour with Ed the Littler, is starting PLAYSCHOOL on Tuesday.

I know, its only one morning a week, but well, she's always there, singing, smiling and giving us her Mini Moments.

But I am worried.

She has been a little clingy of recent weeks. There hasn't been a reason for this, none that we can think of anyway. But as soon as I go out of a room I hear "Want to get up on Mummy", followed by sobbing, and then a full blown tantrum.

So the idea of leavng her from 9.30am to 1pm? Hmm, quite hesitant actually.

I am reliably informed by those in the know (the sisters in law) that this is the best time for her to go to Playgroup if she is starting to get overly reliant on me. They assure me that once she is around other kids her own age, she'll be fine.

Hmmm again.

Its still quite a hard thing to imagine, rocking up to a place she has never been, to be met by people she has never met, and walk out without her. Since she was born, practically within 1 minute of taking her first breath, she has been with me.

Don't get me wrong- I know she has to go and gain independence, but can't she wait until she's, I don't know, 16?

Ed the Elder thinks she'll be fine. He goes off to festivals and parties without even thinking about it, so is used to separating from the kids at random times.

And frankly, if it was Littlest going to playschool I would be over joyed- he has turned into the child from hell overnight. The bells chimed new year and he turned completely psycho!

All he does, from 5.30am (yes, that's 5.30am, when its still dark) until bedtime at 6pm is scream. He screams when he is happy, he screams when he's not. He screams because he has just screamed. Ridiculous.

He actually screamed so much on Saturday, that Mini stood next to him, burst into tears and through her sobs told him to shut up!

When Youngest Sister in law popped in to pick The Nephew up to go and see the Eldest Sister in law,(The Nephews Mum), I told her that Littlest was going through a mad stage, and she didn't believe me, as he was on best behavior in front of her. But The Nephew, when asked if I was exaggerating, mimicked the screeching so well that he started Littlest off again. He sounds like a baby dinosaur, or how I'd imagine one would sound, its earsplitting!

He woke up at 10pm on Sunday night (cheers Daddy for waking him up), and refused to go back to sleep for 4 hours. I was so tired all of Monday I needed matches to keep my eyes open!

But Mini is generally quite a well behaved child, and well, if I was being selfish I would prefer her never to leave my side, from playschool right up to leaving home!

Hopefully, she will do really well, and love playschool, and also it will mean more time for Littlest and I to do stuff together.

So come Tuesday, she'll have her little outfit on (we don't know if there's a uniform I forgot to check, but I hope so), and her new Night Garden rucksack, and off she'll go.

I'll let you know how she gets on. Fingers crossed!

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