Bubbles and Puddles

After some recent "Long Walks" I came up with the perfect cunning plan to help us move forward and beat the snails to storytime at the library today. Old faithful, a bottle of bubble mix. The plan was to blow bubbles and have Boy chase them, allowing us all to enjoy a walk without constantly trying to find ways to hurry up a bit (ooh, want to walk on that wall up there? ooh look at that dog across the road, come on, let's run and chase that jogger etc etc).

Unfortunately I forgot to have a planning meeting with my old buddy, the freezing February wind, who decided it would be a fine jape to blow the bubbles in the opposite direction to where I was heading, no matter which direction that might be. Twice I had to run and pop the bubbles myself to stop Boy chasing them onto the road. However once he knew I had them there was no going back. More bubbles! Want more more more! Want more bubbles! At one point I discovered if I knelt down the bubbles went straight towards Girl in the buggy, much to her delight. They also hit the ground faster and because it had been raining, many of them hit the ground without bursting, so we were able to see the rainbow colours and our own reflections before stamping on them and screaming POP in a very un-pop-like fashion. That was fun.

Boy spotted some dew on a green plant and spent a good while trying to pop the dewdrops while exclaiming "flower bubbles!" Wrong on both counts, but cute, so I let him off.

Finally I caved and used the even older faithful - puddles - to distract from the contrary bubble fiasco. Boy has a fine pair of colourful wellies that I NEVER remember to put on him. I convince myself several times a week that it's OK for him to ruin his shoes at this point because he'll surely grow out of them soon anyway and need a new pair. I don't listen to the tiny voice of reason who points out that Boy has freakishly small feet that never seem to grow - he's been in the same pair of size fives for nearly six months, and that's only because he lost one of the last pair (also size five). His toenails don't grow either, but I'll save that mystery story for another day.

So the pair of us danced up the street jumping in every puddle we could find on the pavement - yes, that big puddle on the road is for cars - and forgot about wet socks and shoes for a couple of hours. The librarian probably wasn't delighted by the footprints, but both babies were tired out by the time we arrived and for the first time Boy sat (or stood) and listened to a story, while Girl sat on my knee flashing toothy grins to anyone that looked her way.

There's something quite therapeutic about splashing in puddles and I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry that Girl missed out on the fun. Her day will come too though, probably sooner than I would like. I just hope she reminds me to put on her wellies.

Foam Party

Sadly I am not 19 and getting soapy drunk in the student union again. Please, that's so 1996.

Nope, I'm doing a version of the good old shaving-foam-on-a-tray activity. This one has the added fun element of actually making the foam yourself using a glug of Fairy liquid, a splash of water and a hand blender. To those of you who just thought, "eww, but I use my blender for food", hurray! I'm not the only dullard on this web page! To those of you who just thought "what an eejit", perhaps the University Challenge blog might be more up your virtual street.

I first tried the activity this morning with Girl, and although I didn't get the squeals of delight I had imagined after reading the idea from HandsOnAsWeGrow, the foam definitely caught her attention and she plunged her hands straight into it.

Sometimes it is hard to appreciate a sensory experience like this from the point of view of an eight month old. While she was exploring the foam with her hands (and mouth, naturally, yuck) I was immediately wondering why she wasn't enjoying the activity. Why isn't she smiling and cackling with glee? I must be doing something wrong. So I started splashing about in the foam myself, which resulted very quickly in a big splodge of soapsuds flying into her eye and splat, that was the end of that. It was only afterwards I realised it might have been wiser to just let her get on with it instead of trying to force the foamy fun.

When Boy returned home from creche, the leftover jug of foam had returned to its original state, so we got to whizz it up again with the hand blender. Girl was immediately itching to get her hands and mouth sparkly clean but Boy was reluctant to even touch the foam. I tried driving his chuggers through it - he was not impressed - and putting splodges on my face and Girl's head. He managed to crack a smile at this but still wouldn't touch. However when I got out some measuring cups he immediately got stuck in, scooping up foam with one cup and pouring it into another.

Overall it was a pretty successful activity. The babies got to experience the texture, smell, taste(!) and other sensations from playing with the foam. I learned a good lesson about taking a back seat. My hand blender is now VERY clean. And I am very keen to see whether Himself notices that I'm just refilling his shaving cream with washing up liquid from now on.

Bounce and Rhyme

Wind the bobbin up
Wind the bobbin up
Pull, pull, clap clap clap

Wind it back again
Wind it back again
Pull, pull, clap clap clap

Point to the ceiling, point to the floor, 
Point to the window, point to the door. 
Clap your hands together, one, two, three
Put your hands upon your knee.

I started running Bounce and Rhyme classes when Boy turned 7 months. Coincidentally, I restarted them when Girl reached the same age. Once a week, on Wednesday afternoons, a small crowd of parents, babies and toddlers meet up in a corner of a local entertainment centre  and we sing nursery rhymes, play simple percussion instruments and enjoy other songs, rhymes, puppets and bubbles. The class is a drop-in, so no two weeks are the same. One week may full of busy toddlers running around and demanding their favourite song, while the next may be primarily small babies who sit and bounce on their mammy's knee and expending more energy chewing tambourines rather than hitting them.

Today was a rather smaller group than usual, maybe due to the half-term break. Despite this, there was every age group, from the smallest snoozing newborn, through sitters, crawlers and wobblers right up to the two and three year old pros, some of whom have been coming since they were really tiny.

There is Girl and her wee buddy who sit clapping, dribbling and chuckling through Horsie Horsie, a two year old who spends most of the class running round in circles, only pausing to wag his finger fiercely during Five Little Monkeys and Miss Polly Had a Dolly. Another older toddler who takes great delight in shrieking when we pretend to sleep for Sleeping Bunnies. A 9 month old who has come for her first class threatens to fall asleep during Twinkle Twinkle but soon perks up when the instruments come out. And for myself and the other Scottish mum who showed up today, there's nothing quite like hearing a room full of Irish mammies singing Ali Bali Bee and Ye Canny Shove yer Granny aff a Bus.

When the class is over, the children enjoy the ball pool while the mammies enjoy a well-earned cup of coffee. I feel sad that Boy is missing out on Bounce and Rhyme these days, but not quite sad enough to torture myself by having to mind both my babies while protecting my stash of bubbles and jumping around like a Dingle Dangle Scarecrow. Or am I?

Bounce and Rhyme for children aged 3 months to 3 years is on at City Limits, Oranmore every Wednesday at 2.30pm. No booking necessary.