Pants on Fire

diary1 (1) diary2Herewith photographic evidence of my children’s MENDACITY. These are their diaries from nursery. The morning screaming when I abandon them to the cruel witches that are their ‘keyworkers’ is continuing. Yet here they are, beaming, and cuddling said witches minutes later. Harrumf.

And doesn’t Charlotte look grown up? It’s a little glimpse of how she’s going to look as a teenager. My girls are sooooo beautiful, and I know I’m biased, but they really are. We are having lots of fun now they actually have hair (it’s so curly! And long!), though we do seem to go through a pack of bands and clips a week as they all disappear into the same space-time wormhole that holds all the world’s pens and lighters. It’s Jon’s favourite thing to do, combing their hair. He’s less good when it comes to bunches. But bless.

It’s got me thinking about the future, and what they might be. I get a fiver (index linked) if these predictions come true.

Romilly’s career choices currently are:

  • Cleaning lady (she deliberately spills things so she can wipe them up)
  • Waitress (she serves everyone at nursery)
  • Artist (her best bestest thing is colouring)
  • Engineer (genius with the Duplo)
  • Dancer

 

Charlotte:

  • Athlete/mountaineer (she loves doing press ups, climbs anything and everything)
  • Chef (we like our food, we like our nice full tummy, she may specialise in patisserie…)
  • Author
  • Singer
  • Vet (she’s obsessed with the cat, the cat is less obsessed with her)

We’ll see!

cuddleThe reason I put ‘author’ for Charlotte is she’s the one who’s first to experiment with words, loves mimicking, and is really pleased when she learns a new one, which Romilly smiles at benignly and sometimes copies. It’s like the twins exist as an evolutionary unit: one pushes the boundaries, and the other follows. So it’s Romilly that tries new foods, for example, and has been the first to walk holding hands (though Charlotte can now walk unaided with the bricks trolley, and loves pushing her sister around on it, like a Roman empress). Romilly loves anything creative (so playdough, painting, dressing up, building things etc); Charlotte is more verbal and literal.

Charlotte’s new words include potato, oh God (my fault!), peas, cheese, spider, ear, eye, nose, hair, home, ham, toes, owl, see saw, bee, eeyore, tick tock, all gone and then a cacophony of animal noises, her favourite being the loud howl of a wolf. She says thank you, and Romilly says please so, again, they can be polite, but only as a unit!

Talking of evolution, there’s been an interesting development with Romilly this past couple of weeks, in that this avowed bottom shuffler is crawling. I thought that wasn’t meant to happen! All the literature says that shufflers never crawl and instead go straight to walking. She beams from ear to ear when she does it and gets applauded. Not wanting to be left out Charlotte then does ‘extreme crawling’ eg making herself into a hump backed bridge and crawling diagonally, as if to say ‘look, I’ve been doing this for a YEAR!’

???????????????????????????????Our latest obsession is spiders. I have no idea why. Romilly, who is usually the brave one when it comes to things like swings (I think Charlotte has general motion sickness as she’s still barfing on 15 minute road trips if we don’t drug her) and Daddy throwing her up in the air, is very cautious, and will hide behind my legs, peeking out, but Charlotte picks them up, dismembers them, tries to eat them…I’ve exploited the Hallowe’en sales and we now have a plague of plastic spiders dotted around the place.

Charlotte gets very upset when she’s NOT allowed to eat the spiders. In fact, we both get upset a lot at Mummy’s capricious discipline. The indignation when they are not allowed to eat crayons, take teddies into the bath, pull the cat’s tail, slide down the stairs, lick the plug sockets, pull each other’s hair, scratch each other, slap each other, eat playdough, dive off the changing table, remain naked for the day/spend it all in a dirty nappy, draw on books, rip books, steal each other’s food, spill milk on the carpet, pull cables and wires, suck cables and wires…

I’m an old meanie, I really am. But they loves me. And gosh it’s selfish, but that’s been one of the biggest and most pleasing of the changes. I am getting showered with affection, particularly from Charlotte. I guess it’s tied into nursery and they think if they spend all day nuzzling me and going ‘ahhh’ I’ll stop taking them…but I am made of sterner stuff. Most of the time. They were both sat either side of me on the sofa the other day, stroking my hands, with their little downy heads on my shoulders, and my heart melted right through my shoes and I thought how nice it would be to snuggle with them in bed, forever. My little lovebugs.

Their cunning plan might just work…

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