Many years ago hubby’s sewing whizz mum made us a lovely fabric advent calendar. This year I decided to fill the pockets for Babe (nearly three) and daddy. They each get a treat in the daily pocket with the intention that it is a nice morning ritual for them both.
I’ve filled the pockets (thx to my friends for suggestions) with a mixture of hair bobbles, hair clips, Christmas tree ornaments and chocolate lolipops. There are still some pockets to fill, with which I plan to put in some dried fruit and nuts. In the same pocket there is a gold truffle sweet for daddy.
Yesterday I hung the calendar up in Babes room and during the evening (after the long pleading for child sleep), snook in to fill the pockets.
This morning when she reluctantly began to wake, I reminded her that it was the 1st of December and time to get a treat. So upon instructions she duly dragged daddy out the shower so they could find number one and retrieve the surprise.
She was over the moon to get a hair bobble. After a close examine of it, she was happy for me to tie her scraggly mop back in it. Not that the sweet pony tail look lasted long. In Babes world she is not satisfied with hair bobbles and clips in her hair where she can’t see them. She must hold them at all times.
So this sodding bobble has been with her everywhere. On the bus home from town we had a near loss incident. You might think – pah, it’s just a hair bobble. But to a three year old this is like loosing your wedding ring or mobile phone. I compare with these items, because I myself would be near tears if I lost either of these items.
As a result of the bobble being dropped on the floor while on the back seat of the bus. Yes, she already loves to hog the backseat. She might never be cool enough to earn the social status to do this when she is an adolescent so I need to let her live the glory days now. As I was saying, as a result I spent half the bus journey with my bum in the air scrabbling around on the dirty floor being jolted back and forth as the bus lurched forward in the traffic. Less yummy mummy, more scrubby slummy.
I had lost all hope and our bus stop was nearing. I told Babe that it was gone for ever (not letting on that December 2nd has the other one to the pair), and she started to cry. So I flung myself on the floor in one last gasp attempt to locate the cheapy tacky piece of hair dressing tat from Poundsaver. My persistence paid off, with seconds of needing to pelt down the gang way to get off the bus, I was able to retrieve the sodding thing.
Them it’s home safe and sound, so the knot comes undone and the plastic pink cubes drop off. We thread them back on and I re-tie the knot (really really hard). Later Babe thinks cube threading would be fun, so I spend ages trying to undo that knot I’d yanked on so firmly earlier.
With two to play with tomorrow, I’m sure to have gone insane by the weekend.