Category Archives: Bear Stuff

Painted Lady

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It was open-evening at Bear’s school today. He enjoyed showing me the newly transformed painted lady butterflies in their net tube. He has been so excited about them over the past few weeks, right from anticipating the arrival of the eggs. Sadly, by the time they arrived the eggs had hatched into caterpillars. This didn’t dampen Bear’s enthusiasm and with his little hand in mine each day on the way home from school, he has shared his excitement and his newly acquired knowledge.

When he was little he liked wearing fairy wings at our local playgroups. I thought the pinks and lilacs were a bit sickly, so I found him some painted lady butterfly wings to wear. Three years on and he still loves flitting about in them, but we have had little success looking for real ones in the garden. I’m so grateful to his teacher for giving him this amazing experience. As much as he has enjoyed seeing the development from caterpillar through pupa to butterfly, he is looking forward even more to setting them free in the sensory garden, where they will take their chance with the other creatures.

I am doing something similar with Bear. I remember the first suspicious changes in my body and the test that confirmed he was growing inside me. Then he developed as a foetus, a baby, a toddler, and so it goes on. At some point, he will take his chance with the other creatures. All I can do is support him and equip him as best as I can. One day, he will stretch his own wings and taste the nectar for himself.

Architect of the Week

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Bear received a set of wooden bricks for his first birthday from Grandma & Grandad. At first he could hold one, appreciate the texture and explore it with his mouth. The first time he put one on top of another, Mr. Invisible and I were very excited. He’s building, he’s building! We were jumping up and down.

They have to be his most-used toy. He probably wouldn’t rate them as his favourite. He’d probably choose some noisy piece of plastic that doesn’t often see the light of day. But he goes back to these wooden bricks time and again. He has built train stations, beds for his cuddly toys, castles, even a playground complete with ice cream van.

This afternoon he came up with an ‘Award Tower.’ His world is taken up with all things Olympic at the moment and it’s still almost three weeks to go! I dread to think how much more excited he can get. At the weekend he built an Olympic stadium with a portable toilet block for the ‘Teddy Bear Olympics.’ I am constantly amazed by his individual thoughts and ideas. I love that that he is a totally separate creative being. He’s definitely my Architect of the Week.

Pardon the Pun

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Bear’s laughter is my favourite sound in the whole world. Before he was born, it was Mr. Invisible’s laughter, so I guess that’s now my second favourite. (Please don’t tell him he’s been relegated, although I suspect he already knows!)

Bear comes into my bed every morning for a tickle. My day is never quite right if it hasn’t been started by the tinkling of his laughter. As he gets older I’m going to have to become more sophisticated to extract my favourite sound. Right now, he likes the usual toilet humour (that girls grow out of at some point.) He laughs at magicians and Mike burping in Monsters Inc and Mr. Potato Head in Toy Story. He even has a favourite joke.

Q: ‘Why did the cow cross the road?’  A: ‘Because he wanted to go to the MOOvies!’

Mr. Invisible and I have to laugh every time. He’s taken a while to come up with his own though. His first, a couple of years ago now was, ‘Knock knock.’ ‘Who’s there?’ ‘Mr. Coffee. (pause) Go on laugh!’

He’s just moved onto the next level. Wearing his firefighter outfit earlier, he held up his toy drill and said, ‘Fire….. Drill!’

Mr. Invisible was thrilled to bits with his protégé and I’d like to suggest an amendment to the definition of a good pun. If it’s one you made up yourself, I’d like to add unless you’re under six years old, in which case it’s charming!

For the love of a teddy

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Bear came out of school on Friday clutching a very large blue bag. I didn’t need to ask what was in it. He was jumping up and down and the joy spread across his face left no room for doubt. It was finally his turn to bring home the class teddy for the weekend. Each week he has been disappointed that it wasn’t his turn – again! It’s very difficult to explain to a five-year-old that there are twenty nine other five-year-olds who want the same thing and they can’t all have it at the same time.

I’m ashamed to say that I was far from delighted to see his quarry. We had a busy weekend planned and I couldn’t see how we were going to fit in the necessary photographing, printing and writing in teddy’s book. When we got home and read about teddy’s adventures, I was even more despondent. I couldn’t help feeling that after all those children’s tea parties and days out, teddy might be in need of a stiff drink too!

Teddy has been included in all of Bear’s games, he’s been to the school summer fayre, had stories read to him, been cuddled and loved. This evening teddy finally settled down for his last night with us. Bear was distraught. I have spent most of the evening trying to console him and take away some of the fear. ‘I won’t ever see him again.’,’What will happen to teddy at the end of the school year?’ ‘If he goes up with the class next year and every year after that, what will happen to him when the children all move on to different schools?’ Every time I thought he was settled he would start to cry again. When he said, ‘I don’t see how I can ever be happy again,’ I lifted him out of his bed and into mine. There’s no place on the planet that soothes heartache as well as mummy’s bed. Tomorrow we have to return teddy to school. We may even have tears. But I know for certain that he will be happy again. As Mr. Invisible says, he’s never far from a giggle.

Show and Tell

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Bear came out of school this afternoon clutching the dreaded piece of paper. The one that says, ‘Your child has been chosen for Show and Tell this Friday.’ Whoopee! Not only does he have to choose something to talk about, we also have to remember to take whatever it is.

But then I remembered. Problem solved. It’s easy peasy this time because he recently received a letter from her Majesty the Queen. So I suggested it. ‘No mummy. I can’t take that because I have to talk about it.’ Ok, shouldn’t be too much of a problem. If I’d received a letter from the Queen, you wouldn’t be able to shut me up. ‘No mummy. The other children have to be able to ask questions.’

I could think of loads of questions to ask someone who’d received a letter from the Queen. Why did she write to you? Were you excited when you received it? What were you wearing? (Not particularly relevant but I always want to know.) Anyway, it turns out the other children can’t ask questions about a letter from the Queen.

‘So what sort of questions do they ask then?’ I said. ‘Things like, does it have a button to make it talk?’ So basically we’re limited to plastic or fur that may or may not talk. My question would more likely be, ‘Does it have a button to make it stop? No? We’re not getting one then.’

Anyway, it’s not my show and tell, so I’ll just stay out of it.