My little big boy

Dear W,

Here is the view across the park I had this morning whilst I waited for you to finish your first hour at nursery by yourself. It’s the same view I had two and a half years ago as I waited for your sister to do the same. Same bench, same weather, same coffee (well, obviously not exactly the same coffee but you know …), same inane conversation from the dog walkers on the next table. And did I feel the same as when I waited for my first born to spend her first hour untied from the apron strings? Yes and no. Yes, in that I’ve never left you ‘by yourself’ for so long and it punched me in the heart to think of you realising that I wasn’t there. No, in that I knew you were being well looked after – when your sister started the nursery was an unknown quantity. Ultimately, I knew that if you cried they could show you a vacuum cleaner and you’d be alright. (But your penchant for vacuum cleaners must stop when you reach adulthood, young man.)

These coming few weeks will be big ones for your Mummy and you must excuse me if I blub over you a few times. You’re starting nursery, your first birthday is coming up, your boobie ration is being withdrawn and I’m going back to work. Big emotional stuff for me so don’t you go all teary on me when I leave you at nursery – I’ll be doing enough of that for both of us. Stiff upper lip and all that.

I’ve had a super year with you. Admittedly, I can remember very little of it but don’t take that personally. I blame a lethal mix of hormones, juggling you and your sister and not enough sleep. I hope you’ve had fun. If I’ve been ratty, cursed you when you’ve woken in the night AGAIN, not talked to you enough, not done enough cutting and sticking with you or ever missed an opportunity to give you a cuddle then I apologise. If I have done anything wrong then it’s not stopped you from growing into a super son. (Thank god your Daddy is the perfect counterbalance to my jingling nerves.)

Go get ‘em my little big boy. There are crayons to be eaten and peas to stuff up other children’s noses.

With lots of love.

People watching Disney style

There are moments at Disney World when one half of a family will be left to ponder the Disney dream. You’ll find yourself sharing a seat on a wall with the claustrophobes, the adrenaline averse, those prone to motion sickness, the tired and the downright disillusioned. But you won’t class yourself alongside these people. No siree, you’re the regular, normally fun-lovin’ guy who has a child asleep, a child who doesn’t meet a ride’s height restrictions or who refuses to queue for an hour for a five minute spin in a giant teacup. Straws have been drawn to see which family member must sacrifice their turn. You drew the short straw and you alone must deal with whatever and whoever have been left in your care. Fear not for there is plenty to do while you wait. Here are my suggestions for games to fritter away the time, all of which can be played comfortably from a seated position whilst feeding your face with a Mickey ice cream:

Who is dressed most inappropriately for the hot weather? Top points go to thick tights and all-over nylon. Look out for the ‘fashion conscious’ as there are points aplenty to be scored here.

The worst tattoo award. There will be plenty to choose from. Remember, you’re at Disney and dolphins are popular (dare I say common?) so only score one point. Bonus points go to badly executed tattoos of babies and children.

Pin the tail on the couples about to kill each other. After a magical Disney day, which ones will be taking advantage of the $99 divorce you’ve seen advertised on the roadside?

Spot the child most likely to throw a tantrum of Cinderella’s Castle proportions when they don’t get to meet Rapunzel. Sometimes this one can be a little too close to home …

Spot the child wearing the most polyester. Because, yes, in the Magic Kingdom it is okay to dress your child as their favourite Disney character in 90 degree heat and not bring a change of clothes. Note that it’s not good gamesmanship to play this in a thunderstorm as the static generated makes the spot too easy.

Guess the combined weight of the family. The weight of any mobility scooters must not be included. Really, you’ll be spoilt for choice with this one.

As the name of one saccharine ride at the Magic Kingdom states “It’s a small world”, and at Disney World you’ll find a microcosm of the world’s good, bad and ugly. If you enjoy people watching then this is truly the place ‘Where Dreams Come True’.

If you’d like some super (and proper and practical!) advice on a trip to Disney World visit SAHMlovingit’s Beginner’s Guide to Orlando and Walt Disney World.

Black and white and pink and sparkly

Until a couple of years ago I lived on London’s Brick Lane – an area that the term ‘melting pot’ could have been invented for. After living there for ten years we moved to St Albans to be closer to work and family. I remember walking around in the first week thinking that something was odd. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Then it dawned on me – everyone was so WHITE. I found it unnerving. A bit like I’d moved somewhere that had yet to catch up with the rest of the country. What worried me most of all was that I’d be bringing up my children somewhere where they might only learn about different cultures and religions from books.

Three years into Snorbens life and thankfully those early impressions have proved exaggerated. It’s not Brick Lane but it’s hardly Midsomer (no John Nettles certainly) or Norfolk (ahem, no offence intended – I did live in Norwich for three years so feel somewhat qualified …). I was relieved to find that my daughter’s nursery wasn’t solely full of little white, middle-class faces (again, no offence intended for I fit that social bill). Great, I thought, she’ll grow up knowing and, most importantly, accepting that everyone is different.

Now here’s the rub. Yesterday, whilst looking at a picture of the whole cast of Disney princesses, my 3-year-old daughter announced that she likes all the princesses except Tiana (The Princess and the Frog for all you Disney luddites). And why doesn’t she like Tiana? Because “she is dark”. Because “she is different to the other princesses”. Gulp. Trying to explain that everyone is different is tough when a child knows no better than to base their likes and dislikes on such things as colour or quantity of sparkles. In her eyes a pink princess is better than a brown one. Fact. She doesn’t mean anything by it. It doesn’t make her racist. But her comments still made me quake in my parenting boots.

I’ll be doing my best to bring up my children so that they know better than to treat people differently because of creed or colour. As for the immediate future, if my daughter repeats her comment I hope that it will be taken for the little girl’s simplistic analysis of the world that it is and not for anything more sinister.