Last week, the Mr and I were lying in our ripple-blanketed bed, chatting, (except he was already asleep). We decided the best way to parent the third kid would be to largely ignore her. Of course we’d read her an occasional story and feed her but she’s dressed herself since forever and has taught herself how to leap tall buildings in a single bound, without any interference from Mum or Dad. The Mr and I also decided, (except he was already snoring), that one day we would apologise to the eight and ten year old, for not largely ignoring them.
To make up for all that past hovering, helicopter parenting, the next day we let all three kids drive the car:
1. Under Age Driver
2. Even More Under Age Driver
3. Ridiculously (Can-Only-Just-See-Over-The-Dashboard-When-Sitting-On-Dad’s-Knee) Under Age Driver
If you would like four more suggestions of dangerous activities you should let your children do, then click over to this fun TED talk. I am proud to say we have all five basically covered. I am also proud to confirm that no kid breached any driving speed limits.
In more sedate news, I’ve come over all craft floozy again. I can’t stick to any one thing and I haven’t even the foggiest what this pink knittery is even meant to become. The Small keeps asking when her ‘thingy’ will be finished. But the poor Small keeps being ignored.
I have managed to make a good start on this blue knittery which looks like a large, thick, ribbed sock. There are two holes for legs and it will remain open-ended, so sometime soon, before things get frosty, Jasper the Dog will have a possibly humiliating, thick, ribbed, sock-thing to keep him warm.
Between rows of dog ‘sock’, I’ve been surveying the ripple blanket scraps and opening a whole new can of blanket worms, which I am inevitably destined to regret.
I’ve been feeling very sorry for my eight year old boy-kid. When I last performed cooking duty with his class, apparently I danced. DANCED! Possibly at the same time as the muffin mixture was doing its Mixmaster mixing thing. I can only begin to imagine how embarrassing this was and have promised to limit all dancing to gardening and reading duty only.
To make up for such indignity, I have made a start on a quilt for him. He’s been asking for a while, since before he started growing up a bit more and needing to act a bit cooler. Before he started losing some of that breathtakingly-precious, carefree, kid-innocence.
I thought I’d better get cracking and stitch in a whole quilt load of love before he decides he doesn’t need it anymore.