Tag Archives: Bear

Just like Old Times?

Posted on by
Reply

Bear has gone to Grandma and Grandad’s (Mr. Invisible’s parents), so we have some time to ourselves. Just like old times! We could do exactly what we like! We could go to a gallery and actually look at the artwork. We could take a stroll along the South Bank, stop at every watering hole on the way and then go for dinner or the cinema. Or we could just have a clear out. A lovely, soul-cleansing, cathartic, thorough clear out.

A couple of months ago, our nephew Ashford moved from his room on the first floor to the attic because Grandad (my Dad) was struggling with the extra flight of stairs. We wanted Ashford to have a lovely student den up there so we moved a load of stuff from the attic into our bedroom. Somehow, we haven’t done anything about it. Disgraceful!

Mr. Invisible decided to make a start in the cellar, while I tackled ‘the pile.’ This is a way of working together to promote the utmost harmony. A few boot sale boxes, recycling crates and bin bags later, I’ve made a huge sliding tackle of a start and we’ve had just the one disagreement. (Mr. Invisible thinks I won’t use my bike again as I haven’t used it in the last 10 years. I think it is my bike, so I will decide whether I will use it again or not when I have time to make such a weighty decision!)

Before Bear was born, we had stuff but not this amount and the stuff we had, we had time to keep tidy. So I see this as a bit of a new beginning, an opportunity to get back the tiniest bit of control.

So just like old times? Never again. Our lives have changed so completely, that it’s impossible to go back even for a weekend. We will enjoy a quiet dinner and glass of something this evening and a bit of a lie-in in the morning, thankful for the time together and that Bear is making memories with Grandma and Grandad.

Olympics

Posted on by
Reply

I’m finally excited about the Olympics again. I was excited in July 2005, when Dogford and I heard the announcement on the radio in our old kitchen (oh how my life has changed!) I was excited when the diggers moved in and the electricity pylons moved out. I was excited as Bear and I saw bits of Olympic Park take shape through the windows of the Docklands Light Railway. All those diggers, cement mixers and other complicated bits of machinery couldn’t have come at a better time for my young Bear.

My enthusiasm has been gradually chipped away by lots of niggly things. Firstly the sponsors. How are junk food, sweet chocolate and sugary soft-drinks supposed to ‘inspire young people through sport?’ Then there was the school-fayre fiasco, when schools and community groups were prevented from holding Olympic-themed summer fayres and fun days. I can understand that the sponsors don’t want to pay all that money for their competitors to cash in, but surely these events would foster enthusiasm for the Olympics across the nation? I’m not even going to mention the first round of ticket sales. Next up, the good people who were named as flame-bearers were asked to pay if they wanted to keep their torches. I’m actually excited about watching my friend carry the torch on the 22 July. Although I still don’t understand why it takes under 10 minutes to the Olympic Park by tube, but it’s going to take the flame 6 days to get there! I know that running is slower than the Central Line (most days), but come on!

There’s definitely a buzz now. The flags and bunting have started to go up and the final preparations are in progress. The car park at Westfield shopping centre is already closed for the duration (excellent news for our local High Street), we’ve finally been notified about road closures and lots of people have signed up to work for free just for the pleasure of making it happen. But why am I finally jumping up and down? Because our tickets arrived this morning, so Mr. Invisible, Bear and I are going to be part of it.

Food with a Face

Posted on by
Reply

A couple of days ago Bear shook his head to dippy-egg for breakfast, until I pointed out that his egg had a face. Incidentally, permanent marker doesn’t come off even when boiled for five minutes! He requested dippy-egg again this morning. This time we drew ears and hair too. I secretly want to draw long hair and curls and plaits, but I know I have to settle for spiky hair, glasses and moustaches unless I do one for myself too (certainly not on a school-morning.)

We had pizza today. Bear decorates puts his own toppings on. That way, he can eat a whole pizza as big as his head. It works for stuff he has grown too, like broad beans and herbs. But why does his pizza always have a face? In these days of special dietary requirements, ‘nothing with a face’ is a common theme. Not for Bear. Now I’ve never fancied myself as an Annabel Karmel type. I’m in awe of her, I’m just more of a ‘Come on, eat it up, or you can’t be that hungry!’ type of mum. So why am I imagining ways of serving sausages and mash to look like a face with peas for hair and strips of courgette arranged as spectacles? I guess it’s because we eat for pleasure as well as survival and the way food looks is part of the package. And arranging it for himself gives him a chance to test the feel of the food as well as smell, taste and look of it. I hope he’s developing a lifelong love of food and a healthy relationship with it. I think I can feel a yoghurt and summer berries session coming on – nothing like strawbs, raspbs and bluebs for a smiley face!

Bear Time

Posted on by
Reply

Whoever said time is linear hasn’t spent much of it in my life. There are lots of types of time. Holiday time runs too fast, so it’s over before we’re ready. Negative time is where I somehow get to school to pick up Bear, even though I was just hanging up that last bit of washing five minutes before the bell. Secret time is when I arrive ten minutes early and grab a chai latte at the Larder (café just over the road to school) to stop it from becoming slow time. But in our house there is mainly ‘Bear Time’. It started when Bear was born. Before that he was in my tummy. Before that was nothing.

Yesterday, he told a friend that my mummy died while he was in my tummy. My friend started to condole with me, but Mum actually died two years before I became pregnant. So she didn’t know a bit about Bear, even for a bit. My missing mum has always been a hole in my own experience as a mother. Then my friend pointed out that all of a woman’s eggs are already  there when she is born, so in the dim (and very) distant past my mum carried Bear in her womb too. Cheers Mum!!!