Return of the Ersatz

Oh, wow; it's been another long break, not least because Google+'s failure of privacy and eventual collapse has cost me my controlled distribution list.

Welcome to Hogwarts.

But we took a family trip to the Harry Potter studio tour for Arya's birthday yesterday(1), since she took such a shine to it last year and has besides got all the way through the book series and is able to recount sections of it in absolute detail (The Deathly Hallows is apparently not scary, apart from Chapter 8,) and as that was one of the last thing I wrote about, it seemed an apposite moment to dust off this old blog. We'd planned to go on her actual birthday, but it turns out that it was really hard to get tickets this time, I think because they've been having a bit of a refurbishment. On the plus side, this meant that they had some exciting new stuff for us to see, most specifically their new Gringott's display.

So; we took off around lunchtime - the tickets were for 4pm, because when I say it was harder to get tickets this time, I'm not exaggerating - and actually got into the exhibit around 2pm. They'd redesigned a lot of the presentation, although most of the actual material was much the same, beginning with the Great Hall and the first sound stage, which is basically a space the size of an aircraft hangar full of costumes, props and sets. Last time, we spent a long time there, as Hanna and Andrew looked at all the details and I wrangled Arya. This time, Arya was very keen to see a few things, find the snitches and stamps for her passport and then move on to the Forbidden Forest; so much so that we even passed the greenscreen photo opportunities by.

A fun outing for Niffy the Photobombing
Niffler

Before the Forest, we got a couple of forced perspective shots with giant daddies, and then stopped off at the wand choreography exhibit. Arya insisted I practice the wand moves with her. She did very well, but then decided that her pose for a photograph was going to be her demurely holding the wand in both hands. She's such a badass, and yet such a classic princess at the same time. Her favourite thing at LARP was 'killing people' - quickly amended to 'pretending to kill people. I mean the quest to the land of Hope.' - but she dressed up for today in her Nutcracker dress(2) and insisted on pushing her two plushy Hermione's around in her toy pushchair.

On the badass side, Arya was once more brave and took the 'spiders' option in the Forbidden Forest, and tried to protect Mummy from the spider toys in the gift shop. She was prepared for the dementors in the train carriage 'ride'(3), and I think that she hid in the corner for effect rather than from need. She also really wanted to see the compartment sets before we went on to the cafe, which she did with Daddy Andrew.

Our plan had been for a brief stop at the Backlot Cafe, maybe for Butterbeer ice cream(4), but by this point it was seven hours since we'd had brunch and so we had just the most expensive burgers and hot dogs (which in fairness were both large and tasty.) Then we went out to where they keep Privet Drive, the house in Godric's Hollow and the Hogwarts' Bridge, which leads across to the second sound stage, which is a mix of permanent displays and large-scale sets.

Bank.

The latter includes the Diagon Alley set, the big miniature of Hogwarts they used for exteriors, and the new hotness: Gringott's Bank. This is, as I say, part of the recent refurbishment, and I don't know how much of what they have there is reconstructed and how much refurbished from things they had in storage. It's pretty damned shiny, anyway, and I was particularly impressed by the attention to detail on things like the paying in slips.

Now, Arya was beginning to flag a little at this point, and by the time we were taking photos on the vault set with Niffy the Photobombing Niffler she was getting very lively. Then we got to the ruined Gringott's set and were attacked by a dragon, which was pretty damned awesome; a superb bit of effect work, which used a barely-visible screen and some smoke to present us with a charging dragon which then spewed flame in our faces like we were the surrendering citizens of King's Landing. It was honestly a little too intense for Arya, who was a less than happy to see a massive, fire-breathing lizard getting up in her face, bless her.

By the time we got to the big mini room, Arya was about done. She had enough spoons left to choose a gift from the shop - a light-up Triwizard Cup - and then we headed out.

Long day.

Last thing for the day was dinner, which she didn't want to miss. Now, maybe she just wanted to delay the end of the day, but that was a good call. I suspect we would have made some really bad choices if we waited to get home to eat, and she probably wouldn't have gone to sleep even as soon as she did if she'd been hungry, and she demolished her pizza in a matter of minutes.

So, that was a long day. A good day, but a long one. Props to Hanna for getting us there and back, and to Arya who was tired, but could easily have been so much more of a monster through what is, after all, a four hour walking tour. She made a real effort to keep it together, even when the mass of people was really wearing on her, and I love how driven she was about what she wanted to see, and how accommodating when it just wasn't feasible.

(1) Her birthday is March 12th, but there were no tickets, so she got an 'official' birthday so she could push open the doors to Hogwarts.
(2) This was bought as a stand in for her Hermione ball gown when that was still in storage come World Book Day, and was clearly a good choice, as it was misidentified by several people at the studio.
(3) Not an actual ride, but a bit of a back-projection demo.
(4) Vanilla and caramel; very sweet, but unlike butterbeer itself, not fizzy.

The Long Dark Ersatz of the Soul

Arya's first original Lego creation.

I'm behind on everything at the moment, but nowhere more shamefully than in this blog. In my defence and against it, it's been a hell of a year so far. In February, the boiler died on us, and that's really what's thrown me. We had a weekend living out of a hotel, plumbers in and out, and all sorts.

So anyway; a brief catch-up since just before Christmas:

Christmas was pretty good. Arya was very, very excited, but was pretty good about sharing the season. She's starting to get into the idea of surprise presents, but... Well, with mixed results:

Mummy heads into a shop and Arya kicks off about wanting to go with her.

Me: (whispering) Arya. Mummy has gone to get Daddy Andrew's present, and you need to distract him so he doesn't see it.

Arya climbs into the front of the car.

Andrew: What are you doing?

Arya: I just need to distract you from something.

After the whole Whamageddon thing and my random decision to put four versions of 'Last Christmas' on the family Christmas playlist, she went to sleep on Christmas Eve singing it to herself, and the Google Santa tracker once more decided we were totally in the Gulf of Guinea. We also watched Olaf's Frozen Adventure a lot - and I mean a lot.

Arya's School Council Manifesto. Alas, she
was not successful in her bid for office.

On into the new year, and on the 4^th January Arya came to find me in the morning, woke me up and asked: "Is it wake up time?" I told her it was and she said: "Then, happy birthday, Daddy!" which was just awesome.

In February, the boiler broke down, which wouldn't have been so bad, but the first plumber we got out not only condemned the boiler, but also the gas fire in the living room, which he then failed to isolate with the valve right next to it, instead switching off all the gas, leaving us with neither heating nor the ability to cook, with a four year old and freezing weather conditions. It also coincided with the delivery of a bunch of new shelves. Arya was a bit fractious about the cold, and sleeping in a strange place, but all in all she was an absolute star given that we were in and out of the flat during the day, building shelves while she sat huddled up against the cold. It was, I believe, as a consequence of this that her budding Sylvanian Families collection(1) got a major boost.

The next big thing was that we went in to London to see Wicked. Now, honestly, we probably wouldn't have done this if not for the fact that Hanna had already bought the non-refundable tickets by the time we knew we'd have to replace the boiler(2), and it was a pretty daunting prospect. We were looking at a trip in at the tail-end of the commuter rush, a fairly packed schedule of Londoning, lunch, theatre, dinner, and then to a hotel. The Londoning was pretty good, although we did get tied up in the big Disney store as Arya looked for something she fancied and Hanna tried to steer her away from anything we'd already got her for her birthday, and I think Hanna had fun introducing Arya to her erstwhile local toyshop, Hamley's.

Theatre clothes.

I had a bad moment in Hamley's. I was watching Arya while Hanna was at the checkout and Andrew was looking after our stuff by the doors. I'd got clipped in the head by a stunt glider someone was demonstrating, so I was a bit twitchy about the thing still flitting around. It zipped close to me again, I got distracted for like a second, and then Arya wasn't there. She'd run off to join Hanna at the checkout, but for a moment I was sure I'd managed to lose my daughter in London and I was terrified. Other than that, Arya was great about London, despite being very, very tired. One of the things we got in Hamley's was a ride-on suitcase for her to sit on as we pottered around the city, and she loved that.

At the theatre we hit a few problems, as the door staff didn't want to let us in with our big bag. Now, this would have been a fair cop, but the way they handled it was shitty. First, they told us that there wasn't a cloakroom, which there was. Then they told us that it was too big - again, fair cop - but that the nearly-identical bag that another guy had was fine. Called on this, they insisted that we couldn't put our bag in the cloakroom because it had wheels and was therefore a suitcase. Basically, I think that the queue guy made a clumsy attempt to deflect us from trying to bring the bags in, and the rest of the door staff tried to double down on that because they thought we wouldn't make a fuss.

They were wrong. Hanna complained to the floor manager, who agreed that, yes, wheels was a rubbish reason for Andrew to have to dash to Victoria to use their cloakroom. I don't know what came of it internally, but we go free ice creams, so that was nice.

Best princess.

Through all of this, Arya was a trouper, and then came the show and she was enraptured. It was very much her idea to see Wicked, having learned about it through Julie's Green Room, and she'd been insistent that she wanted to see Wicked and not anything else(3). Despite some concerns, she loved it, was pretty solid on her audience etiquette, and really seemed to get what was going on. She sort of missed that Glinda was at first a rather spoiled and unpleasant character, but she absolutely recognised that Elphaba wasn't really 'Wicked', despite not wearing a sparkly dress.

As an aside, we were talking about The Wizard of Oz, and Arya was reminding us that there was a good witch and a wicked witch. We questioned if the Wicked Witch was really wicked, and reminded her of Wicked, but she immediately responded: "But that's not The Wizard of Oz, it's Wicked," which is some next level metafictional awareness for a five-year-old.

After the show, Hanna took Arya to look at the orchestra pit, and they had a chat with the conductor, which was nice. Then we went to dinner which... Well, I ought to note that lunch had already been problematic - it took ages to arrive, and was cold - and dinner again took ages, and was wrong, in that Arya got gluteny food despite a particular request for gluten free, and had to wait to get something else, by which time she was tired and hungry and grumpy. Overnight she had aching legs, and Andrew got MVP of the outing for going out into the night to buy some Calpol.

"I got so big, so fast!" (Actual quote.)

So, that was a pretty high-stress outing, but well worth it. Arya wants to go and see Wicked again, but I think this is going to be a once a year thing.

Not long after, we hit Hanna's birthday, and we went down to the Warner Brothers studios for the Harry Potter tour. Arya wanted to be a little quicker around the tour than Mummy, but there was plenty that she loved: The dresses, the greenscreen broomstick photos, the self-stirring pots, the butterbeer ice cream. It was a very long day for Arya - pretty long for all of us - but she was not at all bad about it.

And of course, a week after that it was Arya's birthday, and a few days before her party we found out that the cake-maker(4) had gastroenteritis and couldn't provide her cake. Hanna pulled out all the stops and she and Andrew - I did my best to help, but came down with a cold that afflicted us all at precisely the worst time - created a magnificent Wicked cake, as well as a full spread of gluten- and dairy-free(5) snacks, cakes and what-nots for the party. It seems to have been a very successful party, although I flaked on it due to illness. Arya was also very pleased with her presents, including a bunch more Sylvanian Families and the fairly last-minute addition of the Lego Dimensions Wicked Witch of the West.

So, that's been our winter. I don't have as many photos because we've been using Hanna's DSLR rather than our phones, but it's been a good time. Arya makes every bathtime a struggle, but is - I hope - slowly coming around to the idea that 'Daddy can I have a hug' is a better way to get attention than messing around until someone shouts at her.

(1) In no way an expression of Hanna's thwarted desire to collect Sylvanian Families as a child.

(2) And the shower.

(3) Say, something recommended for children younger than seven.

(4) Arya's old nursery teacher.

(5) So that her best friend could eat everything as well.

Gratulation

Yesterday, we took Arya to Ipswich for Mummy’s graduation or, as Arya would have it, gratulation(1).

Hanna was very anxious about the whole thing, not just because of the formality and the having to go on stage in front of strangers, or because our old friend imposter syndrome is still telling her that she doesn’t deserve to have a degree at all, but because the part of her that recognises her own worth is still mad as hell that the midwifery students got a mismanaged course, little-to-no support, and that she in particular was screwed over by their refusal to offer any flexibility on her deliveries(2), thus capping her practice grades and losing her a deserved high 2:1 or even a first.

We ate lunch in the car, which Arya thought was the best thing ever, showering herself with bits of cheese and crackers while Hanna and I rued the choice of a crusty giraffe baguette over some other, less crumbly bread. We picked up Daddy Andrew, who explained that some of his work colleagues would like to meet Arya and asked if she wanted to come up to the office. She said no, so that was that and we went on into town. At the town hall, where the ceremony was to be held, Hanna went to collect her gown and hood, while we took Arya to get changed out of her school uniform, then we met up to get photos taken.

It took a little time to find the booking, because it was in Hanna’s name, but I was down as the delivery point. Once that was done, we went through and were offered a choice of a plain, silver-grey background or a library background with bookshelves and a carriage clock. Hanna was leaning towards plain, but Arya ran to the library scene with a look of pure wonder. She consented to stand to one side while Hanna had her solo shot, then dashed in for a two-shot, with both of them holding prop certificates, before finishing off with some family groups.

The hall was hot and crowded, and I’d forgotten all of Arya’s snacks and drinks in the car but fortunately we were able to grab some popcorn from Boots and one of the ushers got Arya a glass of water. Then she played games on Mummy’s phone while we got through the speeches and other graduands before Hanna, who was as it happened the very last to be called up, having the last initial in the last category (MSc Hons in Midwifery.) At last, the faculty processed in at what I can only call an amble.

First up were the speeches, including the aptly-named Pro-Chancellor(3) telling us how ‘we do things differently’ at UniSuffolk(4), a speech I found it hard to take seriously knowing that the newly-minted university was voted the worst in the country by NUS members. She explained that they were a ‘community impact university,’ which I took to mean their students went out, got lashed and picked fights with the townies on a regular basis. Apparently what it means is that they measure their success by the impact on the quality of life of the people and communities their graduates go on to work with, rather than the physical, mental and emotional well-being of their students.

Honestly, I was just shocked at the lack of Latin and the barbaric laxity of allowing people to sit down during a graduation ceremony.

Next was the awarding of an honorary(5) doctorate to Esther Freud for her contributions to literature and service in battle against the Cybermen, and I kind of want an honorary doctorate just because the robes were so very bitching. At last, they started calling up the graduands – one at a time, like the presenting proctor didn’t have four perfectly good fingers, and with all the degree types announced – declaring every name like savages and with still not a whisper of Latin or the vaguest gesture of a kneel. How they can call this graduation I do not know(6). Meanwhile the audience cheered and clapped and whooped. You could tell who’d been popular and who had lots of fam in the audience. I wish I’d made more noise for Hanna, but I didn’t want to startle Arya, who was clapping away, proud as anything(8). 

Then one of the nursing students offered a vote of thanks for all the support that the University had given, while neglecting to consider the midwifery course at all... much like the University did. Then the graduates processed out. As the last in line, Hanna was the last to process out, which meant at least that she was able to hear Arya calling as she waved to her.

We met Hanna outside, took a few simple shots with her and Arya, and printed one out at a photo place for Arya to take to school. Then we headed off for a celebratory meal at Mrs Miggins’ Pie Shop(9). Arya was a bit disappointed that we wouldn’t be having another car picnic, but did really well on her dinner. Also notable, when we got to the restaurant we asked if she needed the toilet. She said no, but then added ‘but maybe I should try.’

It was a long day, and Arya was plum tuckered out by the time we dropped Daddy Andrew off, but she was absolutely fabulous. We had one fuss about having her hair re-brushed for photos, and otherwise she was a star, totally accepting that a) this was Mummy’s day, but b) that we still adored her. She was also visibly and vocally pleased to see Daddy Andrew, who all too often ends up butting heads with her when he’s around.

(1) Which is an awesome term.

(2) The EU directives under which the course still operates ask for 40 normal births or, in exceptional circumstances – such as, say, losing a dozen births due to a transfer from another, better university, or straight up bad luck in experiencing an unusual number of non-normal births – 30 plus 20 non-normal births. The University of Suffolk flat out refused to discuss the circumstances because ‘we don’t do that here.’ A fine sentiment vis a vis casual misogyny and ‘locker room talk’, but not so much when it means downgrading someone who will be going into practice with a vastly above average practical understanding of obstetric emergencies.

(3) It was a struggle not to offer running commentary in the unofficial role of ‘Con-Chancellor’.

(4) They don’t show any flexibility, even in accordance with EU directives, for starters.

(5) I’m never sure if ‘honourary’ is acceptable, and have now spent so long checking that neither looks like anything but a pseudoword, which is easily the greatest concept that Arya has brought home from school.

(6) When I graduated, I was presented in Latin while holding a finger, knelt in front of the Vice-Chancellor, who clasped my hands and Latined some more, before I was chucked out into an alley behind the Senate House to receive a certificate(7) confirming I had received the degree of Bachelor of Arts in going to Cambridge.

(7) And that only as proof to anyone gauche enough to doubt my word that I had a degree from Cambridge.

(8) And only for Mummy, because she loves Mummy.

(9) Actually a Harvester.

Fear of the Aardvark

The fear was that they would never wake up. ION, my phone is not made for
night photography.

On Saturday, we took Arya to Colchester for one of the zoo's late-opening Starlight Safari days, with the intention of seeing the aardvarks up and about. She has seen them before, but she was just with Mummy at the time and was apparently beside herself because she knows I like the aardvarks(1).

So, the day started well. I had to go to physio for my back, and when Daddy Andrew tried to bring Arya into Ely on the train for ballet, the train was cancelled. Thankfully, they were offered a lift by a kind fellow traveler(2), and despite Andrew misremembering the start time, we got Arya into ballet just a little late, after I ran into them on my way out of Boots with a new box of sweet, sweet co-codamol. Then tea cup ride, bus, and Gymbobs, where Arya had a good run around waiting for the session to start and managed to apparently misplace Andrew.

Me: Arya, where's Daddy Andrew?
Arya: He went outside.
Me: Yes, but he hasn't come back.
Arya: I didn't magically make him to be dead.
Me: Wow. That's dark. And oddly specific.

New dress.

After Gymbobs we changed her into her new dress (which she chose herself) and Mummy came and picked us up, fresh and bright from her five or six hours sleep in the preceding 72 hours. There then followed a long drive, a minor meltdown over the wrong coat, and it looked like we were going to have a properly horrible day. Hanna split off to make some enquiries at the office regarding pass renewal, and we didn't really make good plans to meet up again.

We saw some lemurs and leopards, and some coati being hella adorbs in the amphitheatre, and checked on the currently somnolent aardvarks. Andrew went to find Hanna, leaving me with all the bags while Arya played in one of the playgrounds. I heard them announce a late giraffe feeding, but before I could collect Arya, I saw her trip and fall, and when I got to her she was bleeding from the mouth.

Worst. Dad. Ever.

Found a member of staff who got us an ice pack and some towels, then I sat Arya down with a soothing ice cream while I flailed to contact Hanna and Andrew. Good news, the bleeding stopped quickly and helped her to calm down enough to stop crying; poor thing was in a right state, understandably enough. Bad news, no signal at all. Fortunately, I spotted Andrew and was able to flag him down and he and Hanna came over, having been looking for us at the giraffe feeding.

Arya complained of an owy tummy and we got a proper first aider in, and considered the possibilities that walk in centres and A&E presented, but ultimately decided that the tummy was probably a result of the upset and not a cause, so dragging her out pre-Aardvark would be a retrograde step. Not that this stopped us worrying, and wondering if each time she got tired and floppy she wasn't lapsing into a set of symptoms that the doctors would note with the shorthand 'terrible parents.'

But she seemed lively enough, and took me to see the bears, including an extended rendition of 'we're going on a poo hunt,' a variation introduced in the TV adaptation of We're Going on a Bear Hunt, so thanks for that, Channel 4.

Next, we went to catch the little train. The green lighting in the waiting area made us look green. "We're turning green!" I cried, showing Arya my hand. "It's just the green lights," she assured me sagely.

The train took us past the oddly abandoned wolf habitat, as well as past the jackals and hunting dogs, to the lemur encounter. Arya didn't fancy walking with lemurs, so we sat and watched the youngsters being adorable and ring-tailed. I got out to stretch my back, and Arya, bless her,was really worried the train would pull away without me. On the way back, all three wolves were out for the first time in three days. My own theory is that they just got Netflix and had been binge watching Marvel series and Stranger Things, and had emerged because they'd got two episodes into Iron Fist and needed some air.

It was getting late, so we tried the aardvarks again - still asleep - before getting some dinner. With Arya quite determined to see active aardvarks, we checked in on them - still asleep - then stayed for the torchlit sealion feed, and Arya named all of the sealions while we waited(3). The sealions were basically circling and occasionally harmonising with the Jean Michelle Jarre - for whatever reason, the sealions always have music, and being Patagonian instead of California sealions they don't so much bark as do a short version of that bass vocalisation that the Ur-ra do in The Dark Crystal.

I tried to get a shot of Arya and the Aardvarks, but they ducked past her and
out of shot.

Finally, we went back to the Aardvarks and they were up and about; well, two of them, at least. Anyway, that was rewarding, and even overrode Arya's pressing need to avail herself of the smell-o-rama hatch again.

And then we went home, by way of the dub-step giraffe, a quick chivvy through the gift shop, a tantrum over the Tinkerbellness of her nappies and a quick stop to buy Calpol (and replacement nappies, because life's too short.)

Sunday was an idle day, unsurprisingly.

(1) Before she had the word 'aardvark' down, they were 'the amamals that Daddy likes.'
(2) In the commuting, rather than the espionage sense.
(3) Skye, Marshall, James, Tom and whoever the other one was.

Some Days are Better than Others

Selfie mirroring; so disconcerting.

It's been a decidedly mixed weekend, for reasons which have less to do with the family than with events surrounding them. Money was a thing, as it so often is, but we're basically hitting rock bottom in that regard now; from hereon out, things ought to be on the up. Moreover, Hanna's Gran passed on Thursday night, which of course cast a pall over the weekend. As a result, Hanna and I were both off our game and seriously down on spoons from the get go.

Still and all, we had plans and Arya was looking forward to the giraffes. Hanna was in Cambridge for an Occy Health appointment at Addenbrooke's, so she drove us both back to Ipswich in the afternoon and we picked up Arya from nursery to take her to a birthday party at the local softplay (well, actually one in town; there is one just down the road.) That was when I found out that I had no money, and Andrew found out that it you give kids an inch they'll take a mile. He made them laugh as he handed out straws and suddenly they thought everything he did was hilarious and started proposing wonderful plans to superglue roasted, endangered animals to his face(1). Arya asked me to sit with her, I think because she was upset at people laughing at Daddy Andrew, but that settled down and she had a good time. The venue were also good about getting her a gluten free meal that wasn't horrible.

We went home after that, and I got her into bed and asleep before we had our dinner. All in all she had a pretty short sleep, I think, and was tired the next morning when I realise no-one else was getting up and went to kickstart things with tea. That was about nine and I'd spent probably a couple of hours hiding in the living room so as not to disturb anyone, while they were awake and active in their own rooms (or in Mummy's, in Arya's case, having gone through at about three.) The upshot of all this was that we didn't get off for the zoo quite as early as we'd planned, and arrived at about midday; just in time for a dash to the giraffe feeding encounter, where Arya sat on my shoulders and bent down to kiss the top of my head, like I do to her sometimes.

Train selfie!

We got to go on the little train that hasn't been running the last few times, and saw the wolves and the hunting dogs, who were pretty rad. We also got to listen to the love story of a lonely swan, as it was the heel end of their Valentine event. We had lunch, looked at the aardvarks (Arya was mightily taken with the aardvarks, who were all bundled up in a snuggle pile,) and went to see the pygmy hippos, including their new baby who shares a birthday with my Dad. Arya was also very taken with the ants.

"I think we've packed everything..."

We hit the penguins and sealions in time for their encounter events. The sealions were dead impressive, and Arya loved seeing them in the underwater tunnel. Unfortunately, she ran off to go back through when I asked her to stay with me, so we had words about that. By that point it was getting late, and Arya wasn't able to feed the baby goats, although she did get to pet them.

On the way out, I took Arya to the toilet. She said she didn't need to go, but with the trip ahead I asked her to sit on the toilet for a count of four, and she did a wee. Unfortunately, she then decided to deny that she had done so, insisting that she hadn't needed to go. Thankfully, when we got home and I asked if she'd done a wee she said yes, then said, unprompted: "I'm sorry I lied to you." All was thus forgiven. We watched Frozen Fever three times, and then she had beans and sausages while we had chicken korma. Getting her to sleep was tougher this time; she was probably still jazzed from the day. I slept in the back room this time, and when she woke up a bit after five I brought her in with me and we snuggled down for a few more hours.

Sunday was pretty quiet and idle. Arya and Mummy had a bit of bonding over World of Warcraft, co-controlling Hanna's hunter as they got turned into a werewolf; or as Arya correctly identified it, Worgen. The co-controlling slowed things down, but only got them killed once or twice, so I say go Arya.

We did take Arya out for a walk and a play in the park while Mummy was shopping. She declined the zipline, but was happy to walk back across Martlesham Heath proper, swinging a stick and singing: "We're going on a bear hunt, we're going to catch a big one!" Then she spotted the bear and we had to run. A bit later she was relating the event to us, by explaining: "We had to run from the bear, and Daddy Andrew and Daddy Luke didn't run very well; only I did." I suggested that she didn't need to outrun the bear, just her Daddies, and I'm glad to say she had no idea what I was saying.

Teamwork.

We had a quiet day otherwise. Aside from that one incident, she was really good about using the toilet. On one occasion, she actually went off and used the toilet on her own, pretty much a first at home. After dinner, she came with Hanna to take me to the station, although she really wanted to wave at me on the train and there were tears as I left.

Soon, however, we will live together, and that of course means that the form of this blog is going to change(2). I don't know if I'll aim for daily updates, or just short entries on notable stuff and a roundup every week, but it won't be one big entry for the weekend any more.

(1) I don't know why. Better than the live bear they originally had in mind, I suppose.
(2) An entirely acceptable inconvenience.

With Jesus and Everything

Christmas time is here by golly...

On Friday, the family arrived with the tree. It's a new tree from Santa, by way of Granny Scott, and it's seven feet tall; next year we're presumably going to be going up to nine, as this seems to be the pattern. This meant that a lot of Friday evening was spent decorating the tree. Arya opened her advent book - The Owl and the Pussycat - and I read it to her before getting her into bed around 9, but she actually went to sleep pretty quickly.

In the morning we woke up in decent time for ballet, and then squandered that extra time so that we had to rush again. I ended up changing Arya from her pyjamas into her ballet kit at the bottom of the stairs in ballet, because she wouldn't go upstairs without changing, which meant sitting in front of the fire door, trying to wrestle her into her clothes while shielding her modesty with my body and waving to the other parents as they went by. Still, once she was ready she went straight in on her own. After ballet we split into two teams: Andrew and Sam went to order the Christmas food(1), while Hanna and I took Arya for the everyday shop.

Dory Cup.

Then it was Tumble Tots. Arya resisted changing out of her Christmassy blue dress, but once she was ready she was great and went in perfectly. When she came out to use the toilet she was excellent and sensible and everything. After TT, she put on her Rapunzel dress and we went home, then out to the library through the gauntlet of tombolas and raffles making up the Littleport Christmas Fair. The rest of the afternoon was pretty quiet, we had dinner and then it was bedtime.

And that, as they say, was when the trouble started.

She got grumpy about getting ready, and grumpy because she wasn't as wild about Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves(2) as The Owl and the Pussycat. She didn't give Mummy a hug, so wanted to go and do that after about twenty minutes of 'trying' to sleep, then got cross with me for something and told me to leave her alone. Then she was restless for a long time and told Hanna that she was afraid someone would take her and we wouldn't be there.

Damn.

Balloon!

Now... Hanna thinks that she's infected Arya with her fear of kidnapping. Given how fearless she is most of the time, I wonder if Arya isn't rather using the things she's heard us say to try to express existential fears that she doesn't really understand. So, if we leave her in the room she can't see us, that's like when Mummy and Daddies get scared because they can't see her. Either way, she got pretty het up and took a long time to go to sleep. Eventually Hanna got her settled and I was able to cuddle her until she went out.

Then Nyarlathotep ate our faces, just to show us(3).

Sunday morning was pretty chilled, as these things go. Arya even agreed to use the toilet before wetting her nappy. It was so chilled that we once again ended up running late without really realising it. Go us.

Hanna and Arya and I went to a christening. Not, as I had at first assumed, a sort-of-christening-type-thing for roleplaying weirdoes, but an actual christening in a church, with Jesus and everything. We arrived about twenty minutes late and missed the sermon with the men at work sign (it's going to bug me, wondering what that was all about) but in plenty of time for the second hymn(4), the prayers and the whole call and response, audience participation bit. Arya was a bit lost, but super well-behaved and very keen to help put the hymn books away at the end. She then went haring out of sight around the edge of the church, and as much as I wanted her to stay where I could see her, it was good to see her being her usual, fearless self.

New car seat selfie!

There was a reception/party (not sure which a christening gets) nearby. There wasn't a lot that was GF, but someone quickly whipped up some sandwiches for Hanna and Arya to have with the ham and cheese, and some brownie for after. Arya then utterly gorged herself on pink macaroons (a pastry with no flour of any kind, you say!) and we went home via Halfords to pick up a new, larger car seat. I was pondering getting an LED lamp for LARPing, and Arya was very taken with it, by which I mean she took it and ran around the shop with it. For the better part of an hour. She also wanted to try out the bikes and decided that she really wanted the Cupcake bike and not the Princess one (that her Mummy has already paid for.) Fortunately, in the car Mummy mentioned that she'd asked Santa for the Princess bike and Arya replied: "Oh yes; that one is my favourite.")

Daddy Andrew: "And the sheep and the goat
can go on top and be friends."
Arya: They're not friends.
Daddy Andrew: Why not?
Arya: They're a sheep and a goat!
Apparently this self-evidently disqualifies
them from friendship.

Back at home, Arya played Duplo with Daddy Andrew and built a garage for the Batmobile, mostly out of animals. And for those who maybe thought I was kidding about Bat-Horse... Slowly the Bat-Tortoise I did make up, although the Bat-Turtle exists in a hundred slightly-modified TNMT action figures, and Bat-Goat remains an affectionate term for Baphomet used in the higher echelons of the Knights Templar(5). There is no Bat-Polar Bear, and this makes me sad. And concerned. Who else would fight all that arctic circle crime?

After dinner, I got Arya ready for bed, which was... slow going. We'd offered her the choice of going to sleep at my place or going straight in the car, and I think she probably didn't want to go and was stringing it out. We were going to put her in the car once she'd had at least a stab at sleep, but in the end I suggested to her that we read an extra book (as well as the day's advent book, Rumplestiltskin) and then go into the car, which worked out pretty well.

And I get to see her again in just a couple of days, as we'e going up to Leeds to see Hanna's parents for pre-Christmas.

(1) I recognise the value of reserving these things early, but I'll be honest, it did kind of feel like just spreading the stress out as 'what kind of ham?' became a total thing.
(2) Weirdly, the book keeps almost all of the murders, but the Chief Robber just sacks the two thieves who fail to locate Ali Baba instead of offing them.
(3) That frame of mind when you feel that Elder Sign is judging you. #parentalproblems
(4) I'm guessing Jerusalem was the first, because the others weren't and one of them always is.
(5) Future Arya, do not rely on this blog for history homework!

Dubstep Giraffes and Other Strangeness

"Is that beard real?"(1)

This weekend, there were giraffes, both regular and dubstep.

We began as normal with Hanna and Andrew arriving with Arya, having texted me their ETA and the message not getting to me because my flat is a mobile reception blackspot. Thus, I did not have dinner ready and had to race to do that, then get Arya into bed and to sleep, which took quite some time and an emergency mummy cuddle to achieve.

On Saturday morning, at about 2.30, Arya woke up and wanted Mummy. I ended up on the sofa, Hanna barely slept, and we all slept in in the morning and were in a terrible rush to get up and out and about. Ballet first, then Tumble Tots, after which we changed Arya into her princess dress (and man, that Anna dress has done sterling service since Hanna got it for her. Like... at least a year and it still fits nicely. Anna dress, we salute you) and headed for Colchester Zoo, more or less via Ipswich. We were all so tired that we almost called it, but we'd bought tickets and Arya had told all her friends she'd be going.

It was exhausting. It was occasionally frustrating. But I'm glad we did it.

As zoo visits go, it might not tick all the usual boxes. We didn't see a lot of animals, and many of them only in passing, but on this occasion that wasn't the point. Our first stop was to the giraffes, for Arya to feed them. This was almost a total bust, as of the two giraffes that came into the feeding pen, one was shy and the other didn't want to eat without his friend, but they got their nerve up and took the leaves, and Arya was very happy with that.

My photo game was not strong; I blame cold fingers.

After that, we fed ourselves and Arya ran around one of the playgrounds, then we wandered back to the far end of the zoo to visit Santa. We went past a reindeer stable en route, which Arya was quite taken with, and she loved Santa's grotto, running back and forth, looking at the vignettes and very politely asking Mrs Claus for another marshmallow (that being the only gluten free option.) The virtual sleigh ride just seemed to baffle her, however, and by the time we reached Santa she was flagging and back to being really shy (although she liked her present; a slightly-too-young puzzle... with a giraffe on it(2).) Mind you, she was wary of Santa the last time she visited one, so she might just not trust big white beards.

Arya is far right, looking overwhelmed.

We spent a little time at the indoor softplay area, but Arya got lost and couldn't find her way out, then fell over while Mummy was trying to find her way in. That was a bit traumatic. Then we had some dinner and went to the shop, where Arya found a pair of My Little Pony beanies that she instantly adored, and a flamingo for Daddy Andrew's Christmas present, which I had to hide up my jumper after we bought it, giving me what Arya tactfully called a 'fat flamingo belly'. Thanks, kiddo.

By this point, it was clear that the pantomime which began at seven was right out, but we stayed for the lights. Initially just some swinging spotlights and blinking fairy lights, these kicked it up a notch when the giraffe statue started to flash and pulse in time to the dubstep carols. Arya loved this, of course, but nonetheless decided that she wanted to go home now, and this felt fair. She conked out in the car and so did I, and when we got home we put her to bed.

Hat selfie.

In the morning she came through to Mummy at about eight while I was creeping about trying to get breakfast ready. She complained of an owy belly and wanted to get dressed, but when we asked if she woudl try to use the toilet she fell asleep again while protesting that she didn't need to. Then she woke up and had cereal and a banana, then more cereal, and in the end didn't eat much of her sausage, egg, beans and bacon at all(3). Once we'd eaten - as per usual, much later than planned - they were off once again, as Arya's best friend Cory(4) was having his birthday party.

So cool.

Thus Sunday was unusually solo; restful, but a bit melancholy. Apparently she was asking to come back to my place on Sunday evening, which is good to know.

Saturday was a long, long day, but a good one, even if I spent most of it without my glasses(5). We were all pretty wiped, but a fine time was had. Giraffes were fed, and Arya even got close to the goats without panicking, which is a huge step forward for someone who not long ago fled the mere presence of a goat.

I can't believe I don't have a picture of the dubstep giraffe at all. Hopefully Hanna or Andrew will have one.

(1) Not an actual quote.
(2) I'm not sure if it's really been clear from this blog, but she loves giraffes. They're her favourite; even more than unicorns and PAW Patrol.
(3) So that was lunch.
(4) He of the 'PAW Patrol is just for boys' claim.
(5) Because I forgot them, not because Arya wanted to borrow my prescription shades.

Bump

Because she's worth it.

It's been a nervewracking weekend, this one.

Friday was okay, although Arya continues to fight sleep with every fibre of her tiny being. I'm certain now that it's because she wants to spend time with us, but it means she quickly gets tired and irritable during the day.

On Saturday we had all the usual activities, and on the way home from TT we went to the park so I could buy drugs(1). Arya wanted Andrew and I to swing her, so we did, but in the cold our grip was not all it could have been and... Look, I wish I could say it was the worst knock of the weekend, but suffice to say that Andrew and I were looking up the address for Puppies, Pianos and Ponyies R Us(2).

We got home and I gave Arya a bath, and she was perfect. No fuss. No trouble. We had a chilled afternoon and all was good until bedtime, when she once more refused to sleep and in the end I had to go because I was ill and tired and grumpy and I didn't want to a) shout at her or b) be the reason that she wasn't sleeping. Hanna eventually got her to sleep, and we all felt kind of bad.

Sadly I was too slow to get a shot of her patting the wooden dog and
showing it her leaflet.

On Sunday we went out to Thetford Forest for a slightly ill-advised picnic and a walk on the Gruffalo orienteering course. The weather was foul, but a good time was had, with just a slight upset when the maypole swing swooped Arya out at 70 degrees to vertical, then swung her back into the central support. Fortunately a) the pole is padded, b) she swung back in as the swing slowed and c) she hung on like a boss. There were tears, but mostly from shock, and she was soon up and raring to go. She was especially excited to see the Gruffalo's Child again, so we missed the end of the trail(3) and went straight to the big finish.

Arya was so delighted with this picture
that she insisted on retaking it, and
pulled her own hat down at the last
moment in the retake.

We went home, where we chilled for a bit watching Room on the Broom and playing games. While Mummy and Daddy Andrew made dinner, Arya got her Doctor's kit out and checked my vitals. One ear turned up a temperature of 43 degrees and the other 42, which she told me wasn't good, because it meant I had blood in my ears. She got the 'ladder' (packing foam from my computer) and made a stretcher to push me to hospital on. to make it big enough, she worked on it with her thermometer as if it were a sonic screwdriver. Then she wanted to attach a suction cup to my tongue (which was broken, she decided) and produced another piece of packing material. I protested that it wouldn't fit in my mouth, to which she responded wearily: "I'm just pretending."

Sonic.

And then she fell off the sofa, which was thankfully the last of her falls for the weekend, and she was none the worse besides a few tears. She's a tough little sprout and no mistake.

She was much better at bedtime, letting me brush her hair without a fuss and mostly lying down when I asked her. It still took most of an hour for her to drop off,. but it wasn't too stressful. I can't say the same for her waking up at half two, insisting on coming to Mummy and Daddy Luke and slapping us about the faces for an hour. I am so tired right now...

They all left this morning, and I got up to say bye-bye. Now I'm in work, staring at things and waiting for them to make sense.

(1) The park is right by the GP's office and the pharmacy where I get my prescriptions filled.
(2) The one stop shop for all your parental guilt purchasing.
(3) Totally on purpose; we definitely didn't take a wrong turn.

Troubles

This thing had a lot of expectation
to meet.

It's been a bit of a weekend at Chez Ersatz.

Arya arrived half asleep. She pretty much immediately wanted cupcakes and biscuits, neither of which we had, and grumped at her dinner. She took a little time to put down on Friday night, but was basically pretty good.

She slept through, pretty much, but woke up still tired. Usually, I go in with her from about one in the morning and at six o'clock she wakes me up hissing: "Daddy Luke! We wake up now?" This week we got to seven and I tried to get her up. In response she grumbled: "It's still dark out."

It's Stick Man!

We got her up for Tumble Tots and she was pretty good through that, just losing focus at the end. Then we went to Ely to do some shopping, and after weeks of asking, she got to ride on the teacup ride with the Jungle Book car. She looked pretty nonplussed as she went around, but wailed when she had to get off anyway. Fortunately a bacon sandwich calmed her down - this was our planned lunch stop, getting the bacon roll folks to put bacon and ketchup in a gluten free flatbread, rather than some sort of ill-advised bribe to stop crying - and then it was off to Thetford Forest for the Stick Man activity trail.

Owl!

Thetford is a bit of a drive for us and Arya was already quite tired - as were we - but we figured the Stick Man trail was a good excuse to get out and about and the weather was lovely. It rained on Sunday, so no regrets.

After we arrived, Arya had a run around the playground and we considered the fourth birthday possibilities of Go Ape. Then we searched for a while and finally asked where the Stick Man trail was. We set out filled with hope, mostly that it wouldn't be all that long. It probably wasn't, but it kind of felt it.

We walked the trail and looked at the signs, although Arya was a bit more into hugging the several wooden owl sculptures and playing in the wickerwork hut.

"I shall love it and hug it and call
it George."

So it goes, and she was out and about at least. It's nice to expand one's horizons, even if only as far as Thetford, and for her that's a long way from home.

There were also Gruffalo in them thar woods, and Arya tried to sleep on the recumbent Gruffalo's Child.

But who is this creature with
terrible claws?

She also made an effort to adopt a piece of wood, which was a bit random. It was hard work, because everyone was tired, but it was a lot of fun as well. It was also a chance to get out in the fresh air somewhere other than the same old play park, and it gave Arya a lot of good exercise.

Unfortunately, she fell asleep in the car, which meant that after dinner - which ended up being crazy late anyway - she wasn't really in the mood to sleep. At about ten past nine she looked up at me and said: "We wake up now?" despite that fact that doing so was literally impossible until she went to sleep.

Sunday was... a challenge.

Early on, we went to Treetops, and that was grand. There was a bit of a barney with another kid - he rolled the roller she was climbing over so she fell; she through a plastic ball and hit him on the head - but it wasn't bad at all. After we got home, however...

Arya drives, while the 'children' sleep in
the back of the car.

Let's be clear; Arya was very tired. After several days without accident, she was 0 for 3 on asking for the toilet and she was getting very grumpy. At one point I had to hold the cupcakes hostage to try to get her to change her knickers and wash her hands. She was highly resistant to the argument that one ought not to make cupcakes with poo in one's pants, or without knickers on, or with dirty hands. Words were had and she had to apologise to me and to Mummy. After her next accident, she once more refused to wash her hands, and shut the door in my face, so I had to make good on my threat to put her in a nappy and put her to bed (at four o'clock in the afternoon.)

After she'd done howling... Okay, I'm not that tough. After she's stopped generically howling and started calling my name, I went back and opened the door, and she was somewhat repentant, but still reluctant to wash her hands. We suspect it's the coldness of the water, but she also doesn't want it warm.

Once more, dinner ran late, and Hanna put Arya to bed while it was still cooking. Arya refused to settle for Hanna - often the case, which is why bedtime is a Daddy job - and in the end I had to tag in. The whole process took about ninety minutes and the fish pie ended up more like a potato cake.

She was better this morning, and we said goodbye pleasantly enough. I hope we have better sleeping next weekend, because it's frustrating to watch her wrestle with her own tiredness like that, and to have to take a tough line on it.

In other news, we did a body count on her CD of children's songs. The average was one per song - assuming that the fox died; we're confident the grey goose had had his chips - although skewed by 'Three Jolly Rogues of Lynn' and 'Froggie Went a'Courting' at three deaths apiece.