21st of January

Another quiet, at-home, no activities planned day.  My children seem to really enjoy them, so we have them quite often.  As you may have noticed, I've scaled back visits with friends and other outings as we move towards the start of the school year.  Both of the children are really looking forward to starting back again.  Harriet was thrilled to find out that her two best friends are in the same class as her; not only that, but the teacher she has is known for being great with G&T children.  He's supposed to be funny and exciting and stimulating.  Excellent! 

So in the days leading up to this stimulating environment, we're not doing too much of anything.  Harriet and Ted decided that on this particular day they'd engage in a spot of Lego building.  It's a rare occurrence, although with Ted's birthday coming up James is banking on an increased interest with his present purchasing power.

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Of course nothing beats the natural world for interest.  This beetle was found floundering near our back door and was immediately the subject of scrutiny and a near death-by-attention. 

Harriet discovered the world of harmonics with some glasses, water and a spoon.  She worked on it for a while and then wrote a little song for a performance.  Lately she's quite eager to let us know when she calls us in for a performance that "it's one I've actually practiced for".  *phew*

Ted often goes through phases of investigating board games we have up on the games shelves, regardless of his ability to play it or not.  Scotland Yard is one he is intrigued by - I think it's due to the awesomely detailed board that gets laid out.  Ted then uses it to zip along the bus, taxi and underground cards with, as well as the little counters (they fit perfectly on his fingers, which makes them extra fun and creates a whole new aspect to the game I never realised was there - finger trapping.

He encouraged Harriet to drag down the Harry Potter trivia game (the old school, sans DVD version) which they played for a short while.  Harriet got tired pretty quickly with asking herself questions and then asking me to turn the card over.  The frustrating thing about it was that Ted can actually read the cards but I think the type might be a bit small for him, because he always yells out that he doesn't WANT to read it, yet when he is forced to (say I'm out of the room or something similar) he reads it out with very little intervention. 

Of course the best games in our house are always the pretend games.  Especially those that involve multiple dolls, an orphanage, beds, mass feeding and some form of tutelage.  This apparently wasn't  an orphanage however, it was the family that had adopted five children and already had one biological child.  As you do.

 

I'm under no illusion that my children will be 'best friends'.  I find it so sad when I read about people discussing how their children are such fantastic friends and how that will be wonderful as they grow older.  Perhaps in older, teenage children you might be able to surmise something akin to that but in young children?  Hey, they go through the whims and ravages of personality in their darkened/beautiful souls at a much faster rate than adults do.  And it turns out that in adults the winds of friendship can grow cold and dark in the blink of an eye, and that's with a much more stable and (hopefully) well-informed concept of self.  

It drives me crazy that Harriet spins out of control when she expects Ted to act like someone at least twice his age.  And it similarly drives me crazy when Ted fails to calm down and recognise that he knows how to work through his most basic emotions of frustration.  But that will change.  There will be new challenges.  There's only a limited window of time where they can write a spell lesson in chalk on the backyard fence and both be enthralled by the process of learning 'spells' - but I don't think that means they are destined to be friends for life.  They may loathe each other, tolerate each other, be entertained by each other or even love each other.  They no doubt feel and think that all wrapped up in one moment in one strange emotion.  It's called family, I believe.