Joy

Posted by dulwichmum on Mon 26 November 2007

I really try to discourage my darling poppets from using “outdoor voices” and SCREETCHING THE HOUSE DOWN… But they really like a good SHOUT. They are such energetic little munchkins. Their lungs are still developing you know. I so hate to inhibit their development…

“MUMMY!… MUMMY!… MUMMEEE!!!” Screetches perfect Freya– the windowpanes rattling in their frames.

“What is it sweetie?” I purr calmly.

“Max offended me,” howls tiny tot Freya.

“But you two were playing so nicely, you were building a Lego car together diddums, were you not?” I sing as I catch the foot she is swinging in the direction of her darling brother’s head.

“She called me a big poo mummy,” cries burly boy Max, cowering into a ball, well aware of the power in his sweet infant sister’s foot.

“Oh dear, that is not very nice my little jewel Freya” I soothe, peeling the tiny girl from her big handsome brother’s arm as she is about to sink in her teeth .

“Why would you call your beloved favourite brother such a cruel and tasteless name?”

“HE CALLED ME A NAME FIRST,” she howls.

“No I didn’t,” pleads golden boy Max, enormous tears dripping down his handsome cheeks. “I simply said she was good at building Lego, I said she was alert.”

“He said it again Mummy WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH, he called me a lert, so I say he is a poo.”

“Dear angel Freya,” I sing “a lert is not a bad word, it simply means awake” taking the hobbyhorse from her clenched fingers as she begins to swing it in the direction of her favourite brother’s kidneys – she really is so very determined and resourceful indeed.

“NOW YOU ARE CALLING ME A WAKE,” she accuses.

“No sweet flower, awake means not sleeping” I explain in hushed and calm tones as I prize the Wellington boots from my tiny four year old girl’s grasp before she hurls them at her darling big brother.

Eventually the angel calms down, disaster is avoided… on this occasion.

Perfect Freya really is such a passionate tiny poppet. Words cannot describe the emotions I experience each weekend when the au pair is off work, and I have the munchkins all to myself. James is off playing golf and I am at one with my darling dolls.

Aren’t you sooo looking forward to the Christmas holidays?

The munchkins will be off school for a whole month, and Ana our au pair will be on maternity leave! Christmas would just not be the same without lively little poppets about the home, their sweet darling happy faces. Christmas is all about the children, they bring us so much … er… joy (hurrah?).

Peace and goodwill to all men …on bloody golf courses…

OH.MY.GOD.

Now I shall go and peel my darling cats down from the top of the curtain pelmets before I pop online and order a couple of dozen cases of Chablis for the festive season…

Binge drinking is terribly now darling!