Even if I have had to take a break from blogging, we are still exploring with Number One Son - considering my exhaustedness, though. I will resume regular blogging at some point, but now we just enjoy half-term and the normal summer term stuff.
Sunday, 10 April 2016
This week started with a movie on a slight grey morning. Similarly to the whole second Easter Holiday week, the weather seemed to change with a drop of a hat and we had both sun and rain in equal measures. The movie we went to see was The Minions. I know we were there way after the first night, but I prefer to go to the Kids showings in Odeon, since Number One Son is still a little bit unpredictable entity, when it comes to the movies. He says that the slightest thing makes him scared, wants to go to toilet in between and hides behind the chair at points - you do not want to pay £10 per head for such an unreliable experience. In the morning shows you get to the premium chairs and if Number One Son decided to walk away, it is not a big dent to the budget. In the end, the Minions found Gru, so Number One Son was very happy of the experience.
After a leisurely Tuesday spent watching videos, playing Minecraft and running in the park, it was time for the big trip of this holiday. Taking train to London is ridiculously expensive from Leicester - even one MP has now noticed and started to wonder this - but I bit the bullet. With a off-peak ticket you do not manage to stay for too long, unless you are prepared to wait until after 7 pm. I decided against this, since it is rather late with a small boy who may become extremely tired in the late afternoon. Thus, it was a trip to McDonalds (a must every time - Happy Meals bring toys) and then a couple of hours before the return. We even managed some time in the park at Russell Square. Scaring pigeons. That essential activity the small boys and girls do.
I had pencilled in a light railway trip by Canary Wharf to see planes at the City airport, but to my surprise Number One Son chose the British Museum. On the way we poped in in the British Library, but the only thing to vaguely interest him were the computers giving information on the highlights of the collections. Magna Carta - not really appealing. King Cnut's law collection - nada. Medieval bibles or anything to do with Lindisfarne - could not care less. Not even the 'Alice in Wonderland' exhibition impress him much.
The visit to the British Museum was a bit in a Japanese style. We walked to see a couple of highlights and I took some poses at the main attractions, where I could get him remotely interested. The crystal skull amused him for a couple of seconds, Rosetta stone much less, Parthenon friezes got his approval, but going around to see anything else than a half man, half hors: what a drag! It all looks better in the photographs.
I must admit he was highly interested in something. You know the Hellenistic statue with a young woman and a slipper? Yes, Alex was very delighted and giggly when seeing a marble-white naked bum. I made the matters even more interesting by pointing out that a male Hellenistic statue had his wi**y still intact. Little boys and giggly bits. How to get children engaged in the past! And this was no museum for poo stories...
The week finished with some rides in the Leicester city centre. Together with my belated admission that yes, we have to buy some trousers to Number One Son, since all are either too small, too big or totally ripped. I managed to keep us away from McDonalds until it was the ice cream and coffee time.
Sunday, 3 April 2016
What do bad mothers do? They spend far too much time flipping through smart phones, they keep one eye on the work even if it is supposed to be family time and they land with work tasks on their lap during the afore mentioned family time. However, even if I was fretting about it before hand and making Archaeologist Husband irritated, I managed to concentrate most of it to one day and attend Number One Son's second birthday party and spend time with in-laws and Number One Son in the Space Centre (although memo to self - no Frankfurter hot-dogs never again). We also managed to get smokey on a sunny Saturday afternoon in friends' barbecue cum bonfire.
I also managed to run errands that were masked as an educational trip to the museum. Number One Son is also learning to manage his pocket money and we paid a visit to the Pound shop. Where else would you spend £1 pocket money? We couldn't avoid an obligatory lunch in McDonalds. Not to mention the coffee break in the same venue. I am definitely passing my thrifty ways to the next generation...
The trip to the Space Centre has to be renewed at some point. We did not particularly feel like queueing, so we looked at different exhibits and Number One Son could fulfil his photogenic needs by making a weather person video in a dedicated pod. Not that he stayed in one place and tried to mimic any weather persons, but enjoyed a run and seeing himself on a screen.
Unfortunately, weather was against us on Saturday morning, when we tried a walk to Bradgate Park. Plenty of rain over the recent days in between sunshine meant that there was a point when crossing a field began to feel like a sinking exercise. Sometimes it is more civilised to walk on a pavement...
Another holiday week ahead. We will try to see some of the delights of London and explore Minions.
Sunday, 27 March 2016
Time has flown so quickly that I missed my last week’s blog as well. I was in Rome and during the conference I made the shortest and the most occasional of skyping to home, so I thought it was not worth it to write a couple of lines on how I was in different events in the evenings and travelling between places.
It is a big day today. Not only does my blog change it name from Two Archaeologists and a Toddler to Two Archaeologists and a Tweenie, but most importantly, it is Number One Son’s seventh birthday. One has to consider those baby and toddler years the past and the quickly sprigging lad as the present. Little by little Cbeebies has been swapped to Transformers and Ninja Turtles. We still have some baby toys around, but soon it is time for the one last clear out.
Naturally, when I finally arrived back home – and it was already into Good Friday – it was clear that I had picked up a cold along the way. Luckily, the birthday party had been fully organised this time by Archaeologist Husband, so I could keep Number One Son fed and oversee him playing in the sunny garden, while Archaeologist Husband shot for the last decorations and foodstuffs. It was not going to be one party but two, since so many children on Number One Son’s class are born around this time so another party inevitably clashed with his. In addition, some people are away for the holidays, so a mid-week party was a preferred solution for Number One Son. He really is making his own decisions now.
The parties are in our house, so having two actually seems to work well. Both have a handful of kids and during the first one the house did not get trashed. The children also could run around in our tiny garden, so there were happy faces all around. The start of the party was a bit muted affair, since many children did not know each other. But after some egg hunt in the house and Minecraft battles in the garden, it all looked to go alright.
Now Number One Son is indulging with his birthday presents. It is apparently the best day ever – with the BBC online shop closing, Archaeologist Husband had really emptied their Dr Who selection. Number One Son got some Angry Birds and Ninja Turtles as well. A happy day.
Monday, 14 March 2016
It seems that Number One Son has reached another milestone. Not only Nice Speech Therapist says that he is now ready to be discharged to be monitored by the school (he has made good progress lately, even if he is still clearly behind the others) but he has started to make his own plans and ask for different things. He used his pocket money on Saturday in the community library in order to buy two soft toys. When he heard that I had gone swimming in Stockholm on Saturday, he instantly wanted to swim again himself - and Archaeologist Husband had to take him yesterday. Now Number One Son wants to go every Sunday. I have to check those times for holiday swimming schools. He is now ready for that.
We have proceeded in restoring the skyping schedule from the time of my previous stay in Stockholm. We now have more parent discussion time after Number One Son's bed time and have time to chat as well. Luckily, Easter is almost here, but this week's conference will disrupt any patterns we have had and any skyping will be at unusually ear;u times and trying to find a wifi network to live skype away from hotels or institutes. Luckily there is Sunday evening.
Monday, 7 March 2016
This year I managed to be at home on the Mothers' Day, but sadly it was more coincidental than being deliberately planned by me. As I have pointed out before, the British Mothers' Day manages to surprise me every year. Luckily, this year work matters, mainly a series of meetings in London, lured me back in time. I must say I was extremely delighted when I realised that I manage to be home both for the Mothers' Day and the International Women's Day tomorrow on March 8.
I did get something unusual for my Mothering Sunday: a bouquet of flowers. Being married to a Green Party member means that Archaeologist Husband does not buy roses or other cut flowers out of principle. Even if I appreciate his conviction and like his principles, I must say a potted rose does not have the same effect. However, this year he melted in front of Number One Son who thought that Mummy definitely would like to have a bouquet. He even managed to get the colour right - blue. But I still did not manage to get those roses...
This Mothering Sunday the lunch was a muted affair due to Number One Best Man being in town and heading to our house for an evening take away. Then, I did lose once again to Minecraft, but we did have a Mother and Son mutual photographing session and a trip to the local park (and to the said take away to get a menu). What is really striking me now, is the way Number One Son has hit the questioning phase. 'What are lemons made of?' 'Do cats have bones?' 'Do brains have eyes?' The flow of questions is continuous - and yes - it feels good after all those years when the communication was minimal and one-worded and the next phase when the verbs where lacking. The questions may be sometimes hard or impossible to answer, but at least we are having a proper discussion.
Saturday, 27 February 2016
Now when I am not staying in the Youth Hostel any more in Stockholm, I have managed to get back into the old routine. When I do not have some other event - and this week there has been slightly more than usually - I have resumed my evening Skyping habit. I have even started to read Number One Son his bedtime story again, the habit that was distrupted by the stays in the Youth Hostel and slightly earlier skyping times. Having a reliable wifi and a fully working external web camera help as well. Now we are reading about a two small school girls and how one of them is starting to skip school after bullying.
Now when Number One Son is getting bigger, he is also getting more vocal about the way he misses me. He just made his feelings known some minutes ago. Luckily, by coincidence, I will manage to be home for the UK Mothering Day, even if its very existence manages to surprise me every year. The Finnish May Mothers' Day is so engrained to my unconscious, I normally only notice during the very weekend. This year I was a bit early with my realisation, which was turned to a slight irritation, when I noticed that a conference I will be hopping in to and out from at Leicester will be during the same weekend. Not all archaeologists are women or mothers, but it would be nice if somebody noticed these things. It is quite clear that the two-day conference in my case will be a one-day one. In addition, since Archaeologist Husband's Best Man is coming to the conference as well, I can already see from my crystal ball that the 'Ulla Rajala' in the wine reception will have a loud Hawaiian shirt and a stubble beard...
It may even be that the Mothering Day Lunch may be eaten in the city with Best Man joining us or being saluted before he heads back to the south coast.