April 2007 Archives


Dear Finn

Today we made ANZAC cookies. As we do.

We baked on the floor. To enable my little sous chef to see all that was going on, and to participate fully in the assembly process.

The recipe reckoned it made 36. We managed about 20.

love Mum


Dear Finn

Yet again it is a month since my last letter. What a slacker your mother is. We've just had a lovely Easter holiday...your Dad stayed home from work for a few days and we had heaps of fun introducing you to the joys of chocolate overindulgence and Easter egg hunting in the courtyard. You seemed to enjoy scoffing your caramel eggs and of course your parents took very seriously the role of demonstrating just how one should eat large amounts of chocolate at one sitting. And thereafter sitting around feeling ill and dizzy watching you whirl around in your crazed sugar high.

You seem to understand so much these days. You love to help out with all the household tasks. You love to put away your own dishes and cups from the dishwasher...knowing exactly which ones are yours and which ones you need to hand to Dad to put away. The fact that you tend to also empty the dirty cutlery from the dishwasher back into the drawer between washes is nothing to worry about really.

You love to help me put out the washing, handing me pieces to hang on the rack. The order of proceedings is obviously a wee bit confusing, as you variously take clothes out of your drawer and put them in the washing basket, or take clean folded clothes and hang them back out on the line. And then there's the magnetic attraction of an undiscovered mound of potting mix that needs investigation. This tends for some reason to only occur when you're half way between the washing basket and the airing rack with one of Mum's clean wet white t-shirts in hand.

You have an endless fascination with rubbish bins. You love to help to empty it out each morning and take it down to the skip. You demand to put your own dirty nappies in it. The day before yesterday when you were having one of your tantrums and we were looking for some time out, your Dad shut you in the cupboard with the rubbish bin. It had the desired effect of shutting you up, but you also thought it was fantastic fun...just when I was thinking of Social Services pounding on our day and dragging you away, not to mention years of therapy bills. But no. You reckoned it was the best game of hide and seek ever invented. And you have the cutest Boo [avi 12 Mb].

Boo to you too mate.
Love Mum