Fitter, Faster, Stronger

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The arrival of autumn equals wholesome family walks. The 3 are now so much fitter, stronger and faster that a country walk along paths and through fields and woodlands is no longer burdened by doubts as to whether we’ll make it or not.

A walk we’ve done before, up Lambsdown Hill and through Kingley Vale on the edge of the South Downs, around Stoughton. It was a bright and warm day, with plenty of wet brown leaves across the floor of the path, shining in the sunlight.

The comedy is fairly fast flowing as the 3 fail to apply any quality control to the thoughts that come tumbling into or out of their heads. It started as we were putting on our boots at the car park, with S telling T to “pull his socks up”, and then much laughter as we tried to figure out whether he needed to actually pull his socks up to make his Wellington boots more comfortable, or whether he needed to sort himself out.

We stopped briefly on the tumuli for a snack and juice, with the 3 taking turns to run up and down the small mounds. This period of rest also gave rise to M’s crisp packet holder, to keep her hands free for mischief (see photo). Conversations along the walk centred on holidays, birthday parties, swimming, school, who can snap twigs, who’s been for an outdoor wee before,  BT Sport, which child shows the most characteristics of  each of our families, and what’s for tea tonight. At one point, the girls ran off up a hill on the homeward part of the journey, and I struggled to keep up with them. E with her long legs, and M with just her attitude…

Dad’s Army (of 3)

S went to Portugal for 4 days last weekend to see her sister, leaving me at home with the 3. It was a lovely weekend, and these are the times I enjoy the most. I think the children were happy with my efforts – there weren’t any demands for mummy at least.

The Disasters: Friday night tea, thanks to fishcakes which I didn’t realise had been injected with a filling of mushy peas. Next time, I’ll make my own.

And we completely forgot about a birthday party that M had been invited to, a friend from nursery; M was upset about this for 30 seconds, until I distracted her with a paper aeroplane.

Trying to get around the 3 for their individual bedtime stories before one or two of them fell asleep was failed twice. M especially was keen to remind me the following morning that she hadn’t had a bedtime story.

The Successes: Trips to the park, where the 3 learned more about the values of teamwork. That is, when M cannot get up on to a high ledge on a climbing frame, and daddy sits on the park bench refusing to help, the other 2 have to do something about it. Three times E managed to shove M up, and of course M wants to get down again straight away. Fourth time round, E just didn’t have the strength, so gave up. But full marks for effort.

As usual, swimming was good – E continues to show off her superb diving as a finale to the session.

Going to the museum was a bit of a gamble, but just about paid off: none of the 3 got too bored or moany, and T took a real interest in the various Dickens Collection exhibits, relating it to Victorian Studies work done at school. In the art gallery, I got them to pick out a favourite picture each, and then describe why they liked it (such fun, such fun!).

On Sunday we managed a country walk: plenty of provisions, with 3 getting extremely excited about a packet of Wagon Wheels that I’d got on special offer from the local Co-op. Wagon Wheels especially suit the nibble-syndrome that T has passed on to the other 2, where each layer is taken off nibble by nibble. Anyway, the walk was energetic and good humoured, through forests and over hills with the Hare & Hounds pub at the end in the village of Stoughton. It was a walk around Lambdown hill, nestled at the edge of the South Downs. It is extremely encouraging to see these 3 pairs of short legs do all this work, and even these simple activities make me so proud of them. At one point, T and E couldn’t stop giggling at M’s misfortune:

T: M, how do you spell ‘yellow’?

M: [falling over in the grass with a loud ‘ooooph’ as a consequence of looking at T rather than where she was going]

T: Is that how you spell ‘yellow’? “Ooooph’.

T was unstoppable after this, and E quickly joined in. M was pretty chuffed at being the centre of attention and being so comical, and wasn’t at all offended.

Going Green

We went to the South Downs Green Fair at the Sustainability Centre in East Meon recently, again with our friends Debbie and Bart.

A bright warm day, an array of stalls, demonstrations and activities with an emphasis on renewable energy, crafts, nature and all manner of pagan and hippy interests. I expected to be imprisoned in a Wicker Man by the end of the day (especially as the mid-afternoon parade got underway, papier-mache insects on sticks and flowers in participants’ hair, led by a man with a flute), but the 3 enjoyed themselves – mostly the organic ice cream and the circus skills tent. S was surprisingly adept at the stilts (misspent youth with Aunty Judy, she said).

T managed to get himself lost at one point, although it turned out he’d just gone to the loo which he’d managed to find by himself. He then was a bit put out as he came back to find us, us looking for him, and lost his place in the queue. It’s always a bit disappointing when initiative causes parental anxiety.

The 3 did manage to indulge the crafts, as you can see from the pictures above. M became quite obsessed with the idea of making a gnome; E became quite engrossed with her carefully made necklace; T spent a good half an hour chipping, drilling and hammering away at his rock.