Kinder duty

Today was my very first time doing kinder duty, and it was great to get an insight into BabyG's time at kinder.  Before last Thursday, I'd never left her in the care of anyone she didn't know. When I was working at Casa di Hell three days a week for 7 months she was cared for by her grandmothers.

I've been a little anxious about sending my cherub off into the world. She is such a cautious little soul and tends to have a good look around any situation before hurling herself in, so I've been wondering how she would fare in a room full of kids, many much more gregarious than her, and perhaps even aggressive, behaviour she hasn't been exposed to since she was pushed over at a play centre at 18 months. Yesterday, we were at Chadstone and she left the little play area with a funny look on her little face, and when I asked her what was wrong she said 'the boys are being naughty.' Before I could probe further a woman came flying towards us, child in tow, and barked at her little boy to 'say sorry'. 'Sorry' he mumbled, and off they went. When I questioned BabyG about what happened she told me he hurt her arm, but I'm still not sure how.

Today from the sanctuary of the kinder kitchen I watched my cherub playing at the water table and get approached by a little boy who was a bit mouthy. Did my child walk away from him? Did she cry? Did she seek assistance from the teacher? No. She threw water over him. Twice. He bawled his three-year-old eyes out.

When we were walking home I asked her why the little boy was crying at the water table. She said 'I got him wet, he didn't like it', and I asked why she got him wet she said 'because I don't like him.'

The wise, rational adult in me had a chat to her about kindness and about the correct way to deal with people. The 14-year-old smart arse in me wanted to say 'good for you, girl, give it to him and don't take crap from anyone!'

My daughter, the photographer

One of my to-do items for this year (one of the gazillion, she thinks, exhausted already) is to learn how to use my camera properly, off auto. BabyG at 3 years already has it sussed:

An awesome post I fell across this morning

I spend a lot of time on the internet- in fact I BLESS Play School because it gives me uninterrupted time with my best friend. This morning I found this fantastic post in response to Tony Abbott's virginity ramblings which I'm going to save for a conversation I'll have to have with my cherubs many, many, MANY (here's hoping) years from now. Enjoy.

A huge thank you...

to the shoppers outside David Jones this morning who watched my pram tip over with MY BABY strapped inside and made no offers of assistance. Oops, did I say thank you? I meant F#CK you...

Feeding time at the zoo...

Or at the circus- the Little Miss is like an open-mouthed sideshow clown moving from side to side following her sister or her pooch:

We had a scare with this cherub on Monday morning. During breakfast her sister had given her a spoon to hold while I was feeding her (a baby spoon) and she poked herself fair square in the eye. That mother's instinct that is often dismissed kicked in and I took her straight to the GP, who found a massive scratch basically across her whole cornea. The GP got us immediately in to a paediatric eye specialist who prescribed eye drops and wanted her seen again in two days to make sure it was healed/healing. We went back this afternoon, and the scratch has healed, and there is no damage to the organs underneath her cornea. Thank god! So mamas, don't let your babies play with spoons, even the baby kind. Apparently this is a really common injury and we were lucky to get away unscathed.

And off she goes...

into the big wide world:

Her bag was packed, her hat labelled, and my cherub officially started the gauntlet of the Victorian education system. And although she has been wearing her 'kinder' backpack for months now, today my eyes welled with tears. That tiny little cherub that I have adored since the moment she was conceived (I say Hawaii, The Man says Vegas- we'll know for sure when she grows up to be a surfer or a gambler) has now started her formal education.

She kissed her baby sister goodbye, waved to Nanny, and we were off.

She held my hand the entire way and while I was dying for a drink of water in Melbourne's heat, there was no way in hell I was letting go of that little hand, not for a heartbeat.

The fate of my pinata

Despite all the cameras floating around my house last Tuesday, I don't have one good image of my pinata fluttering in the breeze. My pinata that I slaved and slathered over, that I obsessed over, that I stressed over and that I glued myself to. More than once. This is possibly the best shot of it:

I love the look on BabyG's face- here she is totally I am woman hear me roar!

As per my thesis on her party posted earlier in the week, the kids couldn't actually break the pinata. In fact, it wasn't even dinted. The Man emptied out the goodies for the kids. I had plans to use it again and again with BabyG as a sensory guess what's in the box type activity. Alas, this was not to be.