Tuesday 31 January 2012

The wrong trousers - by Theo

Or rather, complete lack of trousers.

It's really not the best way to start the week - cycling through the snow to school and then realising that you forgot to pack your work trousers, so you have to cycle home again and arrive back just in time for staff briefing. Especially when you're teaching Year 11 first period, the supervising teacher is out sick and the printers aren't working.

Although, on reflection, it probably means that the week can only get better!

Sunday 29 January 2012

Not quite what the manufacturers had in mind...

Back when Rosie was a little baby and we were struggling to get her to sleep anywhere except in the pram, Kate bought a Baby-Bjorn bouncy chair in the hope she might take to it. She didn't. However, since she's become a toddler she's found a new use for it...



Not quite what the manufacturers had in mind, I'm sure.

Saturday 28 January 2012

Now We Are Two...

As a friend of mine recently told me, the second birthday is the last one where you can get away with giving them an empty cardboard box as their main present and not bothering to do anything else whatsoever.

However, Theo and I are far too doting on our Precious First Born daughter to stop at a cardboard box, so we got her a few other things as well and arranged a small toddlers tea party so we could celebrate her reaching the grand old age of two.

We kept it small - toddlers can be a lot of fun, but en masse, they are exhausting. We invited a pair of twins and another little girl who are all Rosie's buddies, plus my godson, who, at just over a year old, was the most junior member of the party.

The twins were the first to arrive and Rosie was delighted to see them. Soon all three were tearing around the ground floor of our house, taking turns (impressively, there was hardly any squabbling) with the various toys dotted around and generally having a lot of fun.

The other little girl arrived soon after, but blanched when she saw Theo. Nothing personal, it turns out she has a fear of beards. Which is understandable, I mean some beards are pretty scary. Theo's is a fairly modest beard compared with many, but it's still inescapably beardy, so he did his best to stay out of her way.

We were going to wait until my godson and his parents had arrived before starting on the food, but the twins had other ideas. They managed to reach the plate of cheese sandwiches on the kitchen table and took matters, if not the sandwiches, into their own hands. We took the hint and filled their plates.

The food - which also featured some toddler corn snacks and a mixture of blueberries and raspberries - met with general approval, although a certain amount of refereeing was needed to stop the twins stealing the other two's food. The twins ate at three times the rate of the other two and regarded any morsels remaining on their neighbours' plates as fair game.

All was going smoothly, if not a bit messily, when my godson and his mum and dad arrived. Without warning, Rosie suddenly went into a tearful panic and insisted on taking refuge in the garden with Theo and point-blank refused to come in again, even with the promise of chocolate birthday cake.

It took us a short while to work out that Rosie was fearful of my godson's father - a lovely, gentle chap but very tall - Rosie would barely reach his kneecap. Despite having previously met Al quite happily, Rosie was suddenly terrified of his altitude. I think he must have been sitting down last time she saw him.

The problem was solved by Al tactfully banishing himself to the front room while Rosie stayed in the kitchen. She soon regained her equilibrium with the help of a strategically offered piece of birthday cake. I suppose the wisdom of giving chocolate banana cake covered in gooey ganache to a quartet of two year-olds is questionable at best, but our furniture survived the ordeal unstained, thanks in no small part to the swift dustpan and brush action by the twins' mum.
So, overall Rosie's birthday party can be summed up thus:

Four toddlers and a teething one year-old
Six adults
Ten balloons
One trampoline
One chocolate cake
One cupboard under the stairs (for hiding in)
Six renditions of the "Turn Around" song
Three nappy changes
Eight cups of tea (adults)
Eight straws (toddlers)
A couple of minor bumps and skirmishes
A lot of cuteness.
Happy second birthday, Rosie!

Sunday 22 January 2012

because it's worth it - by Theo

I was asking whether the sacrifices and stresses of the course were worth it, and the answer is: yes. I'm really, really enjoying the teaching. It's hard work, which some of the concepts proving to be an intellectual challenge, while controlling the students is an even bigger one. But on the days when I pretty much just teach, whizzing from one class to another, it is such a buzz, especially when the students come up with something even better than you'd hoped for.

Mind you, I'm not so into it that a day back at Uni -with a 9.30 start and a 3.30 finish- didn't feel like a holiday!

Tuesday 17 January 2012

My new life by Theo

I left for work this morning before Rosie woke up, at 7.20am. I helped out in a PSHE class based around living costs, observed a science lesson, taught Animal Farm to Year 10 for a double then spent the rest of the day marking books, planning lessons and preparing resources. I finally left at 5.15pm.

Rosie insisted Kate do bath time this evening - usually I do - hence I've got ten minutes free to write this blog. I'll go up in a bit, read stories with Rosie, then, after she's gone to bed, I'll probably work til 10ish planning lessons, editting one of my assignments and preparing resources.

'Is it all worth it?' I wonder....

(to be continued)

Monday 9 January 2012

The Kings By Kate

Since we've been back in Bristol, in an effort to try and shore up my dwindling Spanish and encourage Rosie's budding bilingualism, we've been attending a weekly Spanish-speaking playgroup. La Casita has been running for more than twenty years, run by a succession of Spanish and South American parents (well, mums mostly) keen to encourage their own children to keep up their Castillano - and as an Hispanic oasis for themselves.

Latinos are highly sociable beings in my experience and in that vein, La Casita hosts a number of spin-off family parties to keep the group love alive through the year and celebrate a few of the more important cultural events in the Hispanic calendar. One example being the El Dia del Muerte, as mentioned in a previous blog and, a couple of days ago, a fiesta to celebrate El Dia de los Reyes.

For Spanish children, the main present-giving date in the Christmas calendar is Epiphany, January the 6th, when the star-following Three Wise Men turned up with their gifts for the infant Jesus Christ. In Spain it's a huge event and we witnessed the massive parade they put on in Madrid (less than three weeks before the birth of our daughter, as it turned out) where sweets were flung out to the eagerly waiting children (who used stepladders and upturned umbrellas to maximise their catching ability, much to our amusement).

The fiesta put on to mark the occasion by La Casita in Bristol was a far more modest affair, but endearingly Spanish in its friendly but slightly chaotic atmosphere. From the momentary panic that they didn't have enough Kings for the all-important present giving (Theo narrowly escaped being drafted in when other amenable dads stepped in to take on the roles); the determined singing of some Spanish carols by one brave soul while most of the children point-blank refused to join in; the wonderfully hilarious "ninos buenos" speech given by (Caspar? Melchior? Balthazar?) before the gift giving; to the meat-dominated fare in the buffet and the merciful presence of some authentic Spanish turron.Rosie was slightly bemused when it was her turn to approach the improbably bearded "kings" on the stage to get her present, but she received it gracefully enough and even managed a "gracias" when reminded by Theo. She had already raised a few smiles among the people surrounding us when she realised the "kings" were doling out treats from their three huge sacks by shouting, "Regalos! Regalos!" (Presents!) in excitement.

After unwrapping her gift and giving her new book a cursory glance, she spent the rest of the party either running into the kitchen at every opportunity (she was fascinated with the lock on one of the cupboard doors and demanded Theo's keys so she could try and open it); munching a few carefully-chosen items from the buffet; or plonking herself meaningfully in front of a family with loaded plates in the hope they might offer her a biscuit or piece of cake. Theo and I were partly mortified and partly entertained by that last stunt. We have to hand it to our little girl, she's got some chutzpah.

Thursday 5 January 2012

She doesn't know much about art.... by Theo

...but our daughter knows what she likes. When we took her on a little trip to the City of Bristol Museum, she legged it through most of the galleries until she found....



Sunday 1 January 2012

strange beginnings - by Theo

2012 began for Kate and I at 1.20am when we were woken by a hammering at the door. As you might expect, this came as a surprise - we were expecting my parents but not that early. The knocking came again. Throwing on my dressing gown I ran into the bathroom and leaned out the window to see who the hell it was - there was no way I was opening the door at that time of night!

It was two police officers. They asked me to open up. So I went downstairs and unlocked.

"Can we speak to Marilyn please?"

I thought they had the wrong house - ours doesn't open onto the street listed on our address, but the street to the side - but no, they didn't. They had received a call about a domestic violence incident at our address from somebody called Marilyn Monroe*. I explained that my wife was called Kate and shortly after Kate came down to join me at the door to confirm her name and that she was fine. The police officers, mystified as they had confirmed the address by radio, bid us goodnight and happy new year.

I really hope it was only a prank call, or that whoever it was gets the help they need - dv is no joke. Good to see that the Avon & Somerset Constabulary doesn't think so either.

*name changed to protect identities - but the real name was of a similarly famous actress.