Last weekend we kept the happy vibes going by enjoying the last sunshine of September.
We went for breakfast at Minnis Bay - possibly the nearest sandy beach to Whitstable. There's a cafe on the beach selling breakfast baguettes. But we had to be quick. A small girl was eager to play in the sand.
She played and played and played. (If you look closely you'll see her toes are still pudgy-baby toes.)
Recaro and I played frisbee. It was great to get moving and leap about.
Peaches fell asleep on the way home. Later that afternoon, I took Peaches to the golf club to meet up with Recaro. She practiced her putting and this time she didn't wee on the putting green. But she did insist that that was were she was going to eat her fromage frais. We are so lucky that it's a quiet club. This could cause a ruckus in some places.
However, in breaking news, my slightly slack parenting was met with some success this afternoon. I let Peaches take her tacky pink dolly buggy to the supermarket. I was going to let her walk around the supermarket and would try to keep her engaged and out of trouble while I would attempt to do a 3 or 4 day shop (I knew a full week's shopping would be too ambitious).
And guess what - the constant 'voice of encouragement' or 'motherease' as some people put it, worked. She stayed close, looked where she was going (with some reminders) and 'helped' me by throwing items into the trolley. She did pick up one toy, I didn't tell her off - I expected to get rid of it at the checkout - but then she put it back herself.
We had to queue at the checkout and though she was distracted by the chocolate display, she did put everything back when I asked her. If I'd capitulated, we'd have come home with a kingsize bar of Cadbury's fruit and nut, a box of toffee poppets, kingsize white chocolate kitkat, milky way stars, polos and a yorkie bar.
By the time I was packing up the shopping, she decided to sit down and wait for me on one of those kerb high 'bumpers'.
The only time she really stalled was at the exit. For the first time ever, she showed interest in Barney, the purple dinosaur ride. In the spirit of being a very mean mum and not wanting to set a precedent, I talked her off it. She did deserve a treat... but I wasn't going to give her one.
Instead she had the joy of a happy (or do I mean triumphant? relieved? smug?) me. Now that can't be bad, can it?