Nine

Someone turned nine at the weekend. There were presents and cards and birthday waffles, and Bella made him a lovely card with a badger holding a bunch of balloons - I think Angus was genuinely really touched. Favourite presents included a snorkel (already tested in the bath), a drone and a Swiss army knife, plus a pair of bouncy new trainers that definitely make him run faster. 

The birthday cake request - to my huge relief - was chocolate cake with white chocolate buttons round the sides and smarties on top. Specific but achievable, I like that. 

We booked a Forest School birthday party at a local park and all the cousins and some of Angus's school friends came. They built dens and learnt how to build a fire to boil water in a Kelly kettle, then roasted marshmallows on the fire. They absolutely loved it and the guys who led it were brilliant, funny and great with the kids. The look on Angus's face when he lit the fire with a spark was wonderful - a little shy but mostly really proud of himself. 

 Everyone was grubby and smelled of wood smoke by the end of the afternoon but these things count as a good day out in this house. And the rain held off until the last five minutes of the party.

All lovely, but completely and utterly exhausting, especially after a very packed week. Sunday we deliberately kept as low key and easy going as possible.

It occurred to me that we should have Sundays like that more often. 

Honeycups

Angus understands - vaguely - that bees make honey and that honey comes from flowers ("The bees are sniffing up the honey, Mummy.") One of the flowers we see most frequently where we live is buttercups; they grow in the garden, all over the school playing field, in the grass verges and along the footpaths on our walk to school. 

We often stop and pick some. "Look, honeycups!" says Angus. "They're called buttercups, Angus, butter-cups," I tell him, over and over. "Yes. Honeycups." he says, looking at me as if to say...that's what I said. I wonder why I am insisting on correcting him, and drop it.

So now we call them honeycups. I can't remember most of Angus's first words - although I'm sure they are all recorded in his baby book - but I want to always be able to remember that at four years old Angus called buttercups honeycups.

The Little Homemaker

He cooks.

 He cares for the baby.

He feeds the dog (a bit forcefully).

And all this while he's pregnant, too.

 The dog is walked...

...while he rides his scooter - he's learning to multi-task already, bless.

I love watching the children play when they don't realise they are being observed. Yesterday I went upstairs to do some housework and Angus, who is still young enough to want to me near me while we're in the house together, followed me. While I stripped the beds and sorted piles of washing, he made dinner at the little cooker in his bedroom. I snuck up on him and eavesdropped ("...you must put the toys 'way and tidy up cos tea is ready...") and took some photos. He's fascinated by babies at the moment. Ever since my friend Rachel had her baby he's taken to putting a doll under his t-shirt and struts around with his baby in his tummy. He and Bella tied skipping ropes around their toy dog's necks and have been playing "walk the dog" a lot. When I started vacuuming, he went and found the mini vacuum cleaner and joined in. If I'm ironing, he'll drag out the toy ironing board and iron and demand clothes from the pile so he can join in.

I don't remember Bella doing this. She probably did, but because she's a girl I never thought anything of it. Is Angus this interested in domesticity because he's at home with me all the time, or because he has an older sister? Or because "grown-up" jobs appear fascinating to children just because they are "grown-up"? If John is doing some jobs around the house that involve a hammer Angus will get out his little tool kit and follow him around, banging random surfaces and chipping the paintwork. Children copy what they see. And if I raise a son who can cook the tea, iron the clothes, walk the dog, care for babies and hang a shelf, well that's just fine with me. 

Not have babies though. That would be weird.

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Thank you for your comments about Angus's party and the Telegraph mention. You are all so kind. And I've just remembered that I've still haven't taken any photos of the snake I crocheted Angus for his birthday - I will try tomorrow, if the clouds part for long enough to allow for any decent photos.

Bouncy Castles, Burgers and Cake

Can I just say that I am shattered. If I stop now and sit down I will slump over while I stare into the distance and possibly dribble a bit.

The party is done. We survived. Actually, it was great fun. The nice bouncy castle people upgraded our inflatable to one with a roof, for free and unasked, when they knew what the weather would be like. But apart from one brief shower, the rain held off and the sun even came out. Below is a photo of said bouncy castle filling our entire back garden. It's not that the bouncy castle is huge, it's more that our garden is very small. I am standing in one corner and our neighbour's wall is behind the castle. Luckily we live near lots of parks!

It was too cool and windy too eat outside as I'd hoped, so we had an indoor picnic consisting of mini burgers, chicken nuggets, fries and salad. No child would touch the salad until one Dad there told them all to think of it as a bushtucker trial and bet them that they couldn't eat any...of course then they all ate the salad.

No patriotic theme here, just finally using up the very last of the Jubilee party things...

The individual bottles of strawberry milkshake were a huge hit. I will definitely do that again. There were no breakages - the bottles are really quite sturdy - and they are much less inclined to spill than those paper cups which seem to tip over at the earliest opportunity.

In the last week, Angus has requested a car birthday cake, then a tiger birthday cake, then finally a green monster cake. Which frankly was a relief as the green monster was easy to bake and fun to ice.

I've recently had a revelation regarding kid's birthday cakes which goes something like "You are not a professional cake decorator. Give yourself a break." The cake is the buttermilk birthday cake from Nigella Lawson's How To Be A Domestic Goddess, my go-to birthday cake in my go-to baking book. The buttercream icing is horribly, perfectly green and it was great fun to make. Angus grinned and said "My green monster cake!!" when he saw it, so at least he could tell what it was.

I made about one hundred (no, eighteen) strawberry milkshakes cupcakes from Hummingbird Bakery: Home Sweet Home. They are yummy but my word, they are sweet! Tooth achingly sweet.

I decorated them with cut up paper straws.

I like to see a mass of cakes lined up before a party, like a little cupcake army - it makes me feel like I've done something right. If all else fails, there will be cake!

And remember those sunflowers? I potted ten in little plastic pots and added a bow.

With a cupcake and a balloon, they made for very economical and hopefully fun party bags. 

Here is the birthday boy, wearing a mask that someone left behind, happy, probably quite over tired and definitely over fed.

Today we met up with John's parents in York. We visited the National Railway Museum, always a hit, and had a lovely lunch out. A great day, and we will all sleep well tonight.

Happy Birthday Angus. You are four today. My baby, my big boy, stubborn, affectionate, questioning, quiet in company but non-stop chatty at home, hater of vegetables and liker of Peppa Pig, quietly adoring of your big sister and beloved by everyone in this house.

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Last weekend, this little blog was featured in The Telegraph. I am both very happy and very shy about it. Many thanks to those who happened to read it and sent lovely emails and messages. And many, MANY thanks to you out there who visit here and read, old followers and new, nearby and thousands of miles away - it's really wonderful to me that you stop by and your comments continue to make my day.