Pedal power - The B's bike breakthrough . . . .

Hallelujah........

It has taken 20 months, but at long last The B has figured it out . . . .

His bike, that is.

Bought for his third birthday, the machine in question has been confined to the garage - save the occasional, unsuccessful attempt to master it - ever since its purchase.

You might recall the breakdown in communication between The B's brain and legs that has rendered him unable to pedal.

That all changed - for some inexplicable reason - a little earlier this afternoon.

The breakthrough came in Halfords (not a preferred retailer, it must be said, but we needed a lock for The B&G's scooters ahead of our forthcoming trip to Center Parcs).

During our time in store, The G - ignoring all the customer guidelines - decided to test out a rather splendid pink bike, pedalling it sans-problem (her brain and legs have a decent relationship) all around the shop.

She reached some surprising speeds on the smooth, polished floor and, witnessing this, The B declared himself interested in having a crack at the dark art of pedalling for the first time since September 2010. The rest is history.

Upon our arrival home, The B's long-neglected bike was retrieved from the garage's darkest corner and ridden like never before - not saying a lot, admittedly, but still . . . .

One problem solved, then, but another has arisen as a direct result.

It's The G. She is more desperate than ever to acquire her own bike - the pink one from Halfords, of course . . . .

Excitement, art and preparing for RB's arrival . . . .

I don't remember that slide........

Just 12 days to go until Center Parcs 2012 and the excitement is becoming unbearable . . .

For the last month or so, The B has, during his art time, drawn nothing but the swimming pool he is relishing becoming reacquainted with on June 11 (see the above image, the squiggly lines representing the various slides and flumes he remembers from last summer).
Our scheduled sorted (Mini Jetskis made the cut, Junior Crossbows didn't), The B likes to be reminded - hourly, you understand - of all the treats that await him and The G next month.
Twelve days until departure means it is 10 days until Rollo's Brother arrives, for it is unthinkable that The B could go on holiday without his favourite non-resident canine at his side.
He's coming two days before we're due to leave to ensure that he doesn't, to quote The B, 'miss the car'.
There's little danger of that happening. I suspect that were we to leave RB behind, it'd be more than my life's worth . . . .

In their own words #29 . . . .

THE B (last night at bedtime): "Daddy, will you sing me a song?"
ME (a little puzzled): "But I just sang Twinkle Twinkle."
Short pause for contemplation.
THE B (looking rather confused): "Could you sing it again for me?"
ME: "I don't think so, no."
There followed a brief silence as he thought his options through.
THE B (best bargaining face on): "I'll listen this time . . . ."

London, New York, Paris, Slough & Asda . . . .

The B's timetables: 104 and counting......

I have a confession to make . . . .
I might not be as cool as I sometimes like to make out.
To back this up, I can reveal - for the first time - that I have a stamp collection.
It's not something that I often talk about - for obvious reasons - but there it is, I've said it.
The reason for bringing this up is that I'm about to detail The B's own passion for collecting.
Like mine, his preferred pastime has certain social connotations and so - before outing him - I thought it fair to come clean.
The difference between us and our respective hobbies is that, unlike me, The B has no shame.
The collection in question comprises countless timetables (in the main, these relate to bus services, but trains feature also), transportation network maps and other related leaflets.
On reflection, 'countless' is no longer an appropriate term . . . .
You see, earlier this morning, I counted them.
It surprised me to discover that The B's timetable collection boasts an impressive 104 publications. It's little wonder that the carrier bag that had been housing them has burst at the seams and has had to be replaced by a sturdy plastic box.
The B's collection is an eclectic thing. It started out local but, as friends and relatives have learnt about it, its contents have become ever more diverse . . . .
This morning, for instance, we studied his New York Subway map, pored over a timetable detailing the bus routes of Slough and Windsor, and finished with a look at a local service that runs between a neighbouring town and a large Asda superstore.
You might find it hard to believe, but it has a strange allure.
In admitting that I'm starting to find timetables almost as fascinating as The B, I suspect I'm doing myself no favours . . . .

Silent Sunday 27.05.12

Fiction Fridays #27: Smoke and Fluff . . . .

"Mrs Cat was busy knitting, didn't notice soon enough, 

Kittens underneath the table, saucy Smoke and frisky Fluff . . . ."

FF#27: Smoke and Fluff (AJ MacGregor, 1942).

For the best in children's books:

Olly, obsessions and Angry Birds Addiction . . . .

Not a bird (or pig) in sight.......

Ever since Dr Z's iPhone first darkened our doors, The B has been suffering from a certain sickness. 

The ailment in question is avian in nature . . . .

I call it Angry Birds Addiction (ABA).

In hindsight, acquiring an iPad has exacerbated the symptoms.

No cure is available, although certain steps can be taken to ease ABA's impact. 

Sourcing other appealing apps is the most effective and the search for such is always ongoing here. 

In recent days, one that has distracted The B and helped us to escape ABA's grip - for a time, at least - has been discovered.

It's the Olly the Little White Van app - Olly, you might recall, being a popular television character to whom we are indebted already, given the role that he played in helping to break The G's reliance on Peppa Pig.

It seems as though, with his app, Olly's coming to our rescue once again.

The game itself - in two parts, called Delivery Race and Fix It - is quite simple but The B&G are both enjoying it. 

For me, the main attractions are:

1) It's free and easy to download here.

2) It aids co-ordination and recognition and is good for basic problem solving.

3) It isn't Angry Birds . . . .

This is a sponsored post.

In their own words #28 . . . .

THE B (engaged in a conversation with Dr Z - my new, catchier sobriquet for my wife, his mummy - about life in, what he calls, 'The Olden Days'): "Did they have cars in The Olden Days?"
Dr Z answered accordingly.
THE B: "Did they have aeroplanes in The Olden Days?"
Dr Z answered accordingly.
THE B: "Did they have trams in The Olden Days?"
Dr Z answered accordingly.
THE G (keen to get in on the act): "Did they have dinosaurs?"
Cue much laughter.
DR Z (once order had been restored): "You know, there was no television in The Olden Days."
THE B&G both looked baffled.
DR Z: "There was no Peppa Pig . . . ."
The B&G thought about this for a moment.
THE B (puzzled): "So what did they do all day?"

Cheese, chocolate, crisps and scampi . . . .

Seafood? Breadcrumbs? Yes please......

Just to be clear, The G does eat foodstuffs other than Fish Fingers from time to time.

Not the bacon and pasta in a tomato and basil sauce that I prepared for tea this evening (a dish that The B declared to be the most delicious that he had ever tasted) . . . .

But once in a blue moon, she lets her inhibitions go and does trust someone other than Captain Birdseye to keep her fuelled.

On such occasions she is rather partial to cheese and chocolate and crisps and jam (sometimes all together) and she has never said no to ice cream.

Her other favourite - it's surprising, this, given her fussiness - is scampi.

There's no accounting for taste, I suppose . . . .

Fruit, Fish Fingers & other foodstuffs . . . .

Forget Barnacles, Birdseye is The G's favourite captain.......

The G's aversion to all things organic endures . . . .
Her tried and trusted rule (that nothing that has grown on a bush or a tree or in the ground shall pass her lips) continues to govern her eating habits.
Fish Fingers, on the other hand (pardon the pun) . . . .
There is no limit to their consumption.
The B, thankfully, is open to all things edible, with fruit a particular favourite, I'm pleased to report.
Make no mistake, he enjoys a Fish Finger too, but unlike The G, he has grasped the fact that other foodstuffs are available . . . .
Like pizza, for instance, rivalling raspberries as his present preference, although a pretender to the throne has emerged in recent days.
Last Thursday, I asked him for ideas for passing the morning sans-sister, The G out at nursery, as per our regular routine.
"I'd like to eat some bacon sandwiches," he replied after some thought.
No problem there, I fired up the grill. This is an eating habit I'm pleased to encourage . . .

Silent Sunday 20.05.12

(F)our week(s) in pictures . . . .

The B, The G and four weeks of mobile phone photography . . . . .

From the our week in pictures series, this is 20 images in 20 days.

Busy? You could say that . . . .

Our week in pictures #20 . . . .

Fiction Fridays #26: Peter Pan . . . .

This is The B's current bedtime reading matter.
Not a Disneyfied, watered-down, junior retelling, you understand . . . .
But the full thing. The original. The real deal.
It's not ideal for a four-year-old, it must be said, but he was adamant he wanted to give it a shot. Thus far, three main problems:
1) The language can be rather challenging (for us as much as for him).
2) It's a little dark in places (for example, Peter Pan's observation that 'There's a pirate asleep in the pampas just beneath us' and his subsequent suggestion that 'If you like, we'll go down there and kill him . . . .' - this the type of passage that I tend to skip).
3) The B - for some inexplicable reason - thinks he's reading Harry Potter.
Those issues aside, it's going rather well and he's enjoying it, even if, most mornings at the breakfast table, he admits, 'I can't remember what happened in Peter Pan last night'.
That doesn't seem to put him off, or The G for that matter.
'I want to read Peter Pan,' she said a little earlier.
Nine chapters still to go, she's going to have to hang on a little longer . . . .

For the best in children's books:

Our week in pictures #19 . . . .

The G's knees and other stories . . . .

Not effective on bruises . . . .

Four quick things about The G:
1) Last night, in the bath, I caught her trying to scrub the bruises off her knees using her favourite pink sponge.
2) Earlier this afternoon, I had to ask her to stop licking the car.
3) Having just had the importance of not wandering off underlined, she spent a recent shopping trip bellowing at The B, over and over again, 'YOU GET LOST!'
4) In recent days, she has developed an obsessive interest in Ring a Ring o' Roses or, as she calls it, Ringy-Rosy-Roundy, and, yes, we have to use her version, or else . . . .