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Rowan had a pretty good weekend. I had a tiring weekend. These facts are strongly correlated.
Rowan and I made chocolate bread on Saturday, but she didn't really like the chocolate, so we eat a roll or two together and I got the chocolate. I win! We also took Rowan to the playground twice, where she had a good old romp about, learning more about queuing and turn-taking in the process, as the playground was awash with kids and their parents on Sunday.
Rowan allowed nostalgia to get the better of her and dragged out an old cd-rom of simple games that she played a lot about a year ago. She learned how to use the mouse to move the pointer around the screen and enjoyed her Reader Rabbit cd-rom all over again as a result. I was as proud as any techie-geek could be of a child, watching her sneak back into the living room to sit at the computer by herself, pushing the mouse around the various screen events. I'd better remove any copies of my visa card number from the machine before she goes to Amazon and buys everything with a Balamory logo or Thomas the Tank Engine on it.
And she clambered up and down me so many times I can't count. We have a game where I lie on the bed in the spare room and make a mountain peak out of the duvet and my legs. Ritually, I have to say "NO one could ever climb 'Dada Mountain'! It's too tall!" Rowan then proceeds to elbow and knee her way up to the top of 'Dada Mountain', poking and prodding me en route. I'm ending up Brokeback Dada Mountain, only without the same-sex romance and sheep. Rowan then falls off the mountain, sliding down onto me in a heap, and I have to then quickly convert to a rescue helicopter and bring to a hospital. I am also the doctor.
Good weekend though, despite the bruises.
Rowan and I made chocolate bread on Saturday, but she didn't really like the chocolate, so we eat a roll or two together and I got the chocolate. I win! We also took Rowan to the playground twice, where she had a good old romp about, learning more about queuing and turn-taking in the process, as the playground was awash with kids and their parents on Sunday.
Rowan allowed nostalgia to get the better of her and dragged out an old cd-rom of simple games that she played a lot about a year ago. She learned how to use the mouse to move the pointer around the screen and enjoyed her Reader Rabbit cd-rom all over again as a result. I was as proud as any techie-geek could be of a child, watching her sneak back into the living room to sit at the computer by herself, pushing the mouse around the various screen events. I'd better remove any copies of my visa card number from the machine before she goes to Amazon and buys everything with a Balamory logo or Thomas the Tank Engine on it.
And she clambered up and down me so many times I can't count. We have a game where I lie on the bed in the spare room and make a mountain peak out of the duvet and my legs. Ritually, I have to say "NO one could ever climb 'Dada Mountain'! It's too tall!" Rowan then proceeds to elbow and knee her way up to the top of 'Dada Mountain', poking and prodding me en route. I'm ending up Brokeback Dada Mountain, only without the same-sex romance and sheep. Rowan then falls off the mountain, sliding down onto me in a heap, and I have to then quickly convert to a rescue helicopter and bring to a hospital. I am also the doctor.
Good weekend though, despite the bruises.