Wednesday, 28 January 2009

Mummy-daughter Tuesday mornings

Sometimes I hate Tuesday mornings. When the place is a mess and I’m trying to keep R amused (sticking her in front of the TV) while sorting it out and C is having fun working upstairs. Or I plan lots of stimulating activities (baking, painting, crafting…) and they take too long and frustrate her (and me) rather than amuse us.

Sometimes Tuesday mornings are nice but busy, when we have friends round to play or meet up at the toddler cafe to drink coffee and eat far too many delicious home-made cakes.

Sometimes Tuesday mornings are Daddy-daughter mornings instead, and I sit up on my computer, occasionally visited (interrupted) by the pair of them, or called up from town to ask whether we need milk and bread and whether I really want the hugely expensive out-of-season vegetables, instead of the cheap in-season ones.

But sometimes, Tuesday mornings are just perfect and remind me why I try to keep them free. Yesterday was one such day. There was nothing particularly amazing about it. There were no definite plans, except that we would go to the library and shops before nursery school.

We both lazed around in our pyjamas after getting up to a very exciting power cut – just required flicking the trip switch. There was a little bit of TV watching while I drunk my tea and had a quick flick through the internets. Then I just followed her lead.

We did some magic painting and, while it’s actually not possible to paint outside the lines, she was using different colours for different bits (yellow sun, green grass, orange flowers, purple donkey), which was nice to see.

We spent about an hour and a half playing dentists, tooth fairies and doctors and nurses, sometimes with me as the patient (or toothless person), sometimes R and sometimes one of her toys.

We ate Cheerios, banana, pear and a couple of biscuits and had an early lunch of R’s favourite food, noodles and I cleaned up the kitchen while we were eating (and she could see me and talk to me), instead of while she watched TV.

She played with her dad for ten minutes, while I got washed.

She got dressed without any fuss and stood still while I did her buttons up.

We walked to the library, skipping for a bit, running for a bit and with R riding on my shoulders for a bit and giving me a running commentary about the people walking on the other side of the road and the cars and the houses.

We read books, R played with the beads while I chose her some story books, she used the porta-potty in the library loo and she even came with me into the adult library so I could choose a book myself and was mostly good.

We went to three different shops and she helped get things down from shelves, held on to the basket most of the time and only got a bit frustrated at the very last one.

And then we had a leisurely walk to nursery school, talking about what she would do there.

And I smiled all the way home, instead of stomping or fuming.


  1. I D R E A M of days like that Tasha, I really do.
    I take one day off a week to be with my little girl (as that is what I did with her brother before he went to school) and sometimes I think she sits there plotting ways to wind me up throughout the course of the day!
    Then she says something like "I love you so much mummy" and I'm all putty and think aww it wasn't that bad. but it was!

  2. Well they are fairly rare, unfortunately - and we did have the promise of nursery school in the afternoon, for both of us to look forward to. I like half days, myself. Whole days at the weekend (and I somehow ended up doing them both this last weekend) are really, really, really long!

    But there are plenty of things that just make me melt and wonder how I could ever shout at her.