Ducks and Waaaaahs!
Ducks love it around here, there’s always tons of them quacking happily away in the river at the bottom of the hill. Whenever we walk down the road Darlek peers over the bridge and I pick Sausage up so he can peer over too. We play counting ducks, and I’ve even expanded into counting them in French to encourage Sausage to use his new found language skills. (We’ve enrolled him in French lessons at nursery) The conversation goes something like this:
Sausage: ‘Ducks!’ (Points at pigeons flapping further upstream)
Me: ‘No love, they’re pigeons.’
Darlek: ‘Can we feed them?’
Me: ‘I’ve forgotten the bread sorry’ (I ALWAYS forget to bring bread, one day I’ll remember)
Sausage: ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, eight, twelve…fifteen’
Darlek: ‘I can count them!’ ‘One, two, three, four…….’ (correctly of course)
Me: ‘Shall we count them in french?’
Darlek ‘I can do that! Listen mum!’ (counts correctly again except with a huge grin this time)
Sausage: ‘Oon, doo, twa, catrat…..(big pause)’
Anyway, we count ducks, it helps to break up the journey and I don’t think the ducks mind being counted at. The point is, I swear there’s more and more of them every day – and do you know why? It’s because it’s so damn wet around here! They love it and can’t get enough of the soggy weather. We seem to have spent hours trogging around in the pouring rain recently. We’ll be turning into ducks soon. I cannot wait until summer when we have sunshine and the heat bounces back off the walls as we pass.
I digress, as I always do. This morning we were late on the school run, mainly because Sausage has become really, really obstinate. Almost anything I ask him to do is ignored or argued with. The mornings have become rather stressful because of the ‘Waaaahs!’ when I ask him to put his hat on, and the ‘Waaaahs!’ when I try and wrestle him into his coat. In fact, I think it’s fair to say I’m a bit sick of the ‘Waaaaahs!’
Darlek is still being very co-operative and gets herself dressed and is no trouble at all. I can’t wait until Sausage is at the same stage. The contrast is unbelievable.
Today, whilst walking home from nursery we had a battle of the ‘Waaaahs!’ I think everyone has seen that advert where the mum gets fed up of the stropping child and throws herself down on the floor in a shop and tantrums so badly, that her child stops being obnoxious and simply stares in amazement. I didn’t quite do that, but sort of. I ‘Waaaahed!’ back at him. Luckily (or unluckily depending on how you look at it) it was chucking it down so the streets were fairly empty. Sausage was ‘Waaahing’ because I’d refused to buy cookies and he was putting the full force of his lungs and his willpower into yelling and dragging on my arm. So, every time he Waahed (I’m bored of apostrophes), I copied him.
He went on for a while, looking puzzled at me every now and then. I started changing the Waaaah slightly so it kind of harmonised with him, and joked at him that we were having a ‘a right good sing song’ and so it went on, all the way down the hill. I did high Waaaahs, I did low Waaaaahs, I warbled my Waaaahs; it’s fair to say I turned Waaaaahing into an art form. Eventually he gave up and laughed at me which was such a relief. I could not have kept it up whilst walking into the school yard, although I claim not to be bothered about what other mums think of me, I do a little.
My little monster then simply kicked up his heels in his Lightening McQueen Cars wellies and jogged off in front of me looking for his spaceship, which is the building around the corner from school that has a lot of railings around it. Don’t ask me why it’s a spaceship, it just is. There are three spaceships on the school run, all of which are buildings or little enclaves for plants that are surrounded with railings. Odd, but he loves clambering around them and jabbering on about take offs, aliens and space food.
I arrived on time to pick Darlek up from school, despite the Waaaahing and we walked home with one of her school friends and her mum. Darlek has got herself a best friend and it’s so cute to see her chattering on at her about homework and the party that she went to with her the other week. I love seeing her happy, and she so obviously is because she has a partner in crime and someone to share her little school dramas with.
Because our kids get on so well, I’ve begun talking to her mum a little too, and in the same way, I’ve also found it nice to chat about stuff and nonsense. Just passing the time of day with another adult, even if it is just for 10 minutes of the day, is refreshing. It’s so hard to keep up with people when you have kids, well I find it is anyway. I’m always rushing here there and everywhere and with Waaahing and Duck-counting it’s almost impossible to spend time building links with other parents. Besides, the mums in the playground scare me, which is ridiculous, but I can’t help it. The number of times I’ve looked at other mums and thought ‘I bet they don’t wear odd socks every day of the week like me’ and stared at my shoes.
At least Darlek seems to be doing well socially. Nothing makes me happier than seeing her playing with her friends and laughing with them on the playground or on the school run. It reassures me that I’ve not broken her, at least not yet, I must be doing something right. She’s a chatty, giggly, upbeat little madam and I’d not have her any other way. Sausage will turn out OK too I’m sure. I think he might have broken me though. It’s just not dignified or normal to wander along a street having a Waaaaahing battle is it?