Our love of a dragon and a Viking continues

One of the many joys of having the boys is being able to revisit the films I loved watching when I was their size. So many animated films, Disney featuring frequently obviously - they had no competition in the 80s it seems, but also the musicals and Christmas classics that were already well loved and established before my time. 

But the added joy is discovering new films together. Yes there is a lot of rubbish out there, not all that is animated is gold, but every now and then we hit upon a real gem. A film that not only they love but we love too. Ones I may even find myself guilty of watching when they’ve gone to bed. And the really great films, the test of true quality, are the ones that spin off into equally good TV shows. How to Train Your Dragon is pure brilliance to my family. Both films have been loved equally by the boys and the TV series extending from them is one of the few things on tv that they love equally, that doesn’t turn them into crazies and, best of all, doesn’t incite any violence or fighting. 

When we found out they were making a third film we all shouted for joy. We counted down to its realise, buying tickets for the first showing at the local theatre.

The film did not disappoint but boy did it take us on an emotional rollercoaster! We laughed, we cheered, we cried. All of us. Whilst us big ones found our eyes welling up, the boys snuggled in tight and Smalley literally sobbed out loud, shuddering and gulping on my lap. 

They didn’t shy from big life lessons and they tackled them masterfully. And despite the episode of sobs, we left with our spirits lifted all feeling a bit more grown up...Thank goodness!! The adventures of Toothless and Hiccup are what keeps harmony in our house. (And yes. I do get the irony that Vikings are bringers of peace to our family.) 

Since the film our Dragons obsession has only grown. Indeed the outside observer may suggest unhealthily so! 

The house has dragons in almost every room and I’m not just talking toys. Smalley becomes Toothless at every opportunity and he is so unbelievably cute as such my heart breaks every time I see him charging about. Seeing as Toothless is essentially a cheeky toddler, Smalley plays the role perfectly! 

Second child guilt

Smalley has a birthday party coming up. I’m going to completely gloss over the fact that he’s turning 4 as I’m neither emotionally nor mentally capable of processing such. The reality that this coming birthday marks not only such a departure from the time my baby was a baby but also firmly establishes him as being beyond even the most generous definitions of toddler hood is simply too much. <sob>

So, as I say glossing over the sadness that time flies, I’m dwelling instead on parent guilt. 

I think back to when Albs was smaller. To the hours I committed to looking up activities and prepping party games. Birthdays were planned months in advance; venues booked and invitation a hand made and delivered at least 6 weeks before the date in hope of securing a good enough crowd to make the effort worthwhile! 

And then the second child finds himself with another birthday looming and the second child guilt starts creeping in.

With just over 3 weeks to go - and minimal research a hall has been booked and a bouncy castle hired. We’ve clobbered together a guest list and have fingers crossed 4 year old social lives have eased up a bit since Albs was that small; his life booked up months in advance!

The ultimate mum guilt came by way of the invitations. I did handmade invites for all but Albs’ most recent party - when my feminist ways opted instead for shiny pink invites. Making a sleep deprived decision that my love is best shown through my cutting and pasting skills, How to train your dragon stickers were hastily purchased, the craft box raided, the home printer pulled off the shelf and 24 hours later the Toothless invites were handed out at school.  

Sticking together invitations until 1am has proven efficient in staving on the mum guilt for now. With the party weeks away and a full schedule between now and then, I anticipate it creeping back in a great deal more over the coming weeks..

Conversations with my little man

Smalley and I had a trip to the coast today. Much of our conversations involved him nattering on whilst I attempted to talk to those around me. Every now and then however my focus was completely on him. Such as in the toilet today when he came out with this...

Smalley: Nobody loved me when I was a baby.

Me: What do you mean? Everyone loved you. They’d give you hugs and cuddles and kisses.

Smalley: Not the Germans.

I tried to relay the conversation to the hubby once home but sleep exhaustion meant I lost it half way through,collapsing into hysterical giggles. Even now it makes me laugh out loud! As his Narna tells him, and he often admits himself, he’s bonkers.

Confused counting

George has really progressed with his reading and numbers over the past few months. From having practically no interest at all counting has become and everyday thing and he loves pointing out number 3 (his number) number 7 (Albs’), G for George and A for Albug. As we walk home from the dog walk he will point out the house numbers, reading them out alongside a declaration of “not our house...not our house...our house!”

However, his love of “his number” has led to a bit of a muddle in the old logic department. Essentially, as long as it’s 3 he’s winning... 

Me : five more minutes playing then we have to go. 

Smalley : No! 3 more minutes. 

Me : okay, 3 more minutes. 

Me : 5 more chips/sweets/crisps and you’re done

Smalley : No! 3 more. 

Me: Fair enough. 3 more.

Albs finds this logic hilarious but no amount of big brother persuasion will change little Buster’s mind. 

In fact, so deep is this love that this morning he told me that “three is my heart number”. Little cutie. 

Let’s go volunteering!

I went and got myself a new job. Full time, office based and 10 minutes from the boys’ school.  It’s for a cause I believe in, based on values that resonate and a vision I want to be part of. Yay me! 

I got into the charity sector when I started in secondary school, bucket collecting for Riding for the Disabled, doing a favour for my mum.  I’ve never been entirely convinced that it can be defined as volunteering when “my mum made me do it” but proving I am my mother’s daughter at the end of November I signed the boys up alongside myself for their first stint as volunteers. 

They were stars, Smalley shouting “let’s go volunteering” all the way there, Albs being polite, friendly and so confident asking people to help donate and both proving little stars. 

Yes, food may have been dolled out throughout and thank you gifts by way of new magazines purchased at the end, but they went, they smiled, they did their bit and most importantly of all, they enjoyed it.

And so it happened...he went and turned seven

Why does seven seem so much older than six?

Birthday cookie - but of course! 

Birthday sleepover dinner

Traditional Halloween doughnut on a string

Toasting marshmallows (no such thing as too much sugar!!)

Success: all asleep by 8:30pm 

Showing off his impressive strategic skills the boy managed to drag out his birthday for over two weeks of celebrations so there’s been no getting away from what seems like quite a parenting milestone. Seven. 

Celebrations started six days before his birthday, when he was allowed to go to into school on the last day of half term in home clothes, carrying a home made giant chocolate chip cookie to share with his classmates. 

(He helped me make one for his dad’s birthday last year and was determined to have one ever since). 

Move on five days and, after a day at football camp, he was joined by two of his school friends for a birthday sleepover. They ran around the house like maniacs, had burger and chips for supper, donuts on string for pudding before snuggling up on the sofa to watch Despicable Me 3, pausing only to toast marshmallows. And, most impressive of all, they were all asleep in their beds by 8:30pm! 

Halloween themed football camp 

After a birthday breakfast of coco pops (a meal that had been a year in the planning) he headed off with one of his mates to Halloween themed football camp, dressed as a zombie. 

After another pre-ordered dinner (make your own chicken wraps inspired by his favourite restaurant, the Harvester - so swanky!) once we were joined by his friend’s parents and little sister, we headed out trick or treating. Smalley and Lexi walked the neighbourhood holding hands the whole way. Albs and Harry filled their loot bags and we’ve barely even started making our way through the masses of lollipops, sweets and chocolates. 

The day was so full, we forgot all about cake and singing happy birthday until the following day! 

Actual birthday tea - still in costume

Off trick of treating with Smalley

Skip ahead to this weekend and we finally wrapped up the birthday with a mini Olympics party at a local outdoor education centre. 

This was the first time we didn’t host the party ourselves. I was totally lost in the morning; we had so much free time for ourselves!! I was even treated to a lie in. The entirety of our efforts were sending invitations, making a cake (to the specifications of the birthday boy) and packing party bags (colouring pencils, Smarties and Roald Dahl joke books). 

Albs was incredibly pleased with his cake (a result - talented baker I am not, dedicated mother I can be!) When I came down in the morning he ran up to me, gave me a huge hug saying “I love my cake, thank you!” Little heartbreaker. 

The party was a blast - the children seemed to have a great time, there was a lot of shouting and cheering, followed by food (made all the more appetising by the fact we didn’t have to make it) and ice cream with chocolate sauce!

Smalley was asleep within five minutes of leaving the party.  Somehow Alby kept going but crashed beautifully come bedtime. I think the birthday boy is finally partied out!

(Yes I know I'm posting this in December, months after the actual event but I'm running on nothing but caffeine at the moment and getting in front of my personal laptop is a bigger hurdle than I ever dreamed imaginable.  You'll discover the next few posts are all very dated!)

It's a Brooks thing - part 2

The boys long holidays meant they got a couple of days with their grandparents recently whilst the hubbie and I finished up with work before the Christmas break. 

Both boys’ immune systems crashed at the end of term meaning the fun itinerary my parents had planned was cut short but fear not, they still managed to ensure their trip left an impression on the boys. 

Cut to scene upstairs an hour after my parents had left… 

Me: George it’s bath time

George: [runs in and looks me straight in the eye] That’s just your opinion, man [Bursts into laughter and runs away]. 

That’s just your opinion, man. 

It’s a Brooks thing. 

Thanks for that.