Vegetable Dog Treats for Fussy Boys

Just a quickie tonight as I am wrecked (said the mammy to the daddy...)

I went all Nigella and cooked up some beetroot biscuits in a desperate attempt to get some veggies (and therefore vitamins) down Boy's throat. I boiled up my own beets but you can use the ready cooked kind (not pickled!). You could also replace the beets with carrots, spinach or courgette for different colours and flavours.

The recipe (adapted from Annabel Karmel and www.weelicious.com):

Mix together a cup of plain flour with a teaspoon of baking powder, a small handful of grated cheese and a pinch of salt. Mix in one grated beetroot (I used a zester for a really fine shred) and two tablespoons of sunflower oil. Knead to a dough, adding a little water from the beets if needed to moisten it up. Roll out and cut into bite sized pieces. You could easily use a biscuit cutter for fancy shapes. Throw into a pre-heated oven for 15 minutes at a high heat.

I was quite pleased with the result until my friend came over for lunch and asked why I had made dog treats.

Later, Boy took one bite and looked like I'd poisoned him. I think he was expecting strawberry flavour because of the colour. However when Girl munched hers noisily in front of him he came back for another sniff, so I think I will try him again with these tomorrow.

He only has to eat 20 of them for one of his five-a-day. I should be on the food network channel.

The Pancake and the Pig

Stop! You look like a delicious pancake. Please let me eat you.

My impromptu pancake art for the parent and toddler group this morning consisted of colouring/drawing a face on a circle of paper and sticking on a couple of lollypop sticks for arms (and legs, and hair, in the case of one wee girl who really got into it). And calling it a pancake man helped too.

But the real fun came from the retelling of The Big Pancake, a classic fairy story which happens to be part of the Ladybird 606D "Well-Loved Tales" series of the 1970s. Sadly I own very few of these books for my children to enjoy, and although I wish they could see the wonderful artwork by Robert Lumley and Eric Winter, the stories themselves are fondly emblazoned onto my memory from my own childhood.

The Big Pancake is a tale of a pancake cooked up for seven hungry little boys who end up chasing it down the street. In a similar fashion to The Gingerbread Boy the pancake is chased by various people and animals who want to eat it up but it rolls on down the street refusing to stop until a savvy pig offers to accompany the pancake into a forest. The pancake accepts a ride across the river on the pig's snout, and snap, the pig gobbles him up. If only he'd read The Gingerbread Boy he would have surely seen this coming (though the cunning beneficiary was a fox in that story, I think). As with so many of these stories, the greatest enjoyment comes from the repetition and simplicity that makes children feel like the story is an old favourite from just a few pages in.

If you do look for a copy of this story I would strongly recommend picking up an earlier Ladybird edition as the publishers replaced the vastly superior Lumley illustrations in later editions for some unfathomable reason. Or maybe that's the nostalgia speaking.

In case you were wondering, we did eat pancakes today too. Our lovely neighbour threw a little pancake party, though Girl was only interested in chewing a magazine and Boy spent the entire evening demanding chocolate cake - he'd seen me bring over the remaining cookie cups we made yesterday. I got mine though...and it was a delicious pancake!

Tea Party and Baking Cookie Cups

Last week I picked up a lovely dolls' porcelain tea set for a real bargain. I couldn't wait any longer for Girl to get old enough to use it with her dolls, so at lunch time today I sat down on the living room playmat with Girl, Boy, Upsy Daisy and Teddy and we enjoyed a little sexism-free doll's tea party.

When planning the tea party in my head I had all sorts of fantastic and super creative Enid Blyton-esque ideas for what to serve. Rainbow jelly, home made sausage rolls, cream scones and real cooled tea for starters. But in time honoured tradition, I couldn't really be bothered spending hours on a spectacular tea party at which Boy would likely turn up his nose, and which Girl would need liquidised anyway. So I poured a drop of milk in the teapot and put a pinwheel sandwich (peanut butter and banana) atop a slice of strawberry on each plate.

Well I was pleasantly surprised with how much entertainment this simple spread provided. Boy insisted on pouring cup after cup of "tea" for himself and the dolls, while Girl sat really well and gobbled up the strawberry and sandwiches. We pretended to feed the dolls and made lots of yummy noises. Although a fair bit of milk ended up on the floor, it was a lovely way for Boy to practise his co-ordination and pouring skills, while enjoying the whole social ritual of a tea party.

Once we had finished, Boy gathered up all the dishes unprompted and took them to the kitchen sink (after attempting to put them in the bin, but still). Then he asked to wash his hands. This is usually code for "I want to stand at the sink and see how much water I can direct onto everything within 20 feet." But actually he wanted to continue playing with the little tea set. He filled the cups with water and drank from them, then "washed" them and put them on the drying rack. Over, and over, and over again.

Later, inspired the success of the tea party I went all Nigella and made chocolate cookie cups filled with yoghurt and fruit (and a sneaky spoon of nutella for mammy and daddy) for after dinner. They were so simple to make and looked quite fancy and inviting. And they were pretty tasty too. I used my tried and tested chocolate chip cookie recipe which Boy helped with (flour EVERYWHERE but who cares!) and a muffin tin. We put a ball of cookie dough in each muffin case and poked a hole in the middle, then baked in a hot pre-heated oven for 15 minutes. Once cooled, put a spoon of yoghurt in the middle of each cup and top with a couple of pieces of fruit. Easy peasy.

I hope we have another tea party soon, if not for another chance to use the sweet porcelain tea set, then for another reason to make yummy chocolate cookie cups and serve them to friends. And to encourage all this manly dish washing of course.

Ailwee Cave and Birds of Prey Centre

It was another really beautiful day today - and a proper sunny Sunday in February demands nothing less than a trip to the beautiful Burren. We recently spent a fiver's worth of Tesco clubcard vouchers on a €20 token for the Ailwee caves in north Clare and today seemed like the perfect day to use them. My favourite part of any day trip to this part of the country is - no competition - the drive from Kinvara to Ballyvaughan. On a sunny day the Burren hills to the left look almost purple, Galway Bay on the right is the kind of blue found in Mediterranean travel brochures, the houses dotted around look like Lego creations and the views are just breathtaking.

The Ailwee Cave is set on a large site with enough to occupy a family or group of any age for at least several hours. We buy a combined ticket for the Bird of Prey centre and the cave, costing us an extra €14 on top of our token. By the time we arrive it is nearly midday and we head straight to the Bird of Prey Centre where we take a walk around the owls, hawks, buzzards and other birds, who eye up Girl like a particularly rare feast they might partake in if we would only turn away for a moment (we don't). Soon it is time for the flying display and we sit on wooden benches facing a truly beautiful backdrop of Ailwee Mountain. B and I have been to Disney-type bird shows before, but this is quite different. There are only three birds shown - an owl, an eagle and a falcon. Although the birds do fly for the reward of some unspecified furry looking titbits (and I'm sure I saw some toes too), they do not perform "tricks" and the atmosphere is one of education and caring for the birds. The speakers are knowledgeable and friendly. They encourage questions and there is even an opportunity for older children (fine, and me) to have a rather friendly eagle perch on a leather-gloved arm. Both babies really enjoy the show, despite its length and lack of pizzazz and Boy spends the next hour or so asking "where's the owl?" Or he might be saying "where's Elmo?". Sometimes it is hard to tell. We leave shortly before the end of the show, as both babies are reaching the end of their patience.

There is a charming but steep woodland walk up to the cave, but we decide to take the car up so as to reach the top before closing time next Friday. We don't have long to wait for the next cave tour. The tour lasts around 30 minutes, and buggies are not allowed. A guide takes us along the first part of the loop, then lets us find our way back ourselves. The cave is interesting, but not spectacular. While there are stalagmites and stalactites, waterfalls and a few bones, there are better examples of these features in other showcaves in Ireland (e.g. Crag Cave in Co Kerry). Nevertheless, Boy really enjoys the cave. He walks most of the tour himself and stays in good humour long past his nap time. Girl falls asleep in B's arms.

Once the cave tour is finished we head back into the sunshine. Boy tries to drag us up the Ailwee mountain itself. Sadly Girl is now awake and yelling and B's arms have lost all feeling so we have to cut the walk very short. This was a pity as it was such a beautiful day and there is a lovely mountain path with truly stunning views. We leave vowing to come back and climb the mountain again when the babies are a little older. We stop at the farm shop on the way out, but despite promises of homemade fudge and award winning cheese, the shop is closed, so we head home munching some award-free, mass produced apple rice cakes instead. The Ailwee Cave is best enjoyed as a fine weather day out, and while the site has a few more attractions during summer (like a kiddies' train ride), we felt it was worth coming in the off-season to avoid the huge crowds of tourists that flock here in summer. We understand why they do, though.

A Pain in the Swings

Play parks seem such a simple, cost-free, and fun way of spending time with your children. So when I saw what a sunny morning it was I wondered why I hadn't taken the kids in so long. There is a small but very adequate playpark less than five minute's walk from home, so I set off with the double buggy to give B a couple of hours' peace and quiet.

Less than half an hour later I suddenly remembered why we hadn't been to the park in so long. We head straight for the swings as usual. Boy and Girl sit side by side in the baby swings and we indulge in the usual Ready, steady, go! and Got your feet! Got your tummy! Got your nose! Both babies are in fits of giggles, grinning at each other and generally the picture of happy families. After about 10 or 15 minutes I try and persuade Boy to try playing on the slide or the roundabout for a change. He shakes his head, so I push for another five minutes. Now Girl is getting cold. Out she comes and gets wrapped up in the buggy.

I gently extract Boy and nudge him towards the slide. He climbs the ladder, with a bit of help then stands at the top whining incoherently. In the end I have to lift him down and he runs straight back to the swings. A familiar creeping sense of foreboding has suddenly come across me. After another five minutes, my hands are numb and Girl is turning slightly blue. The sun may be shining, but let's be real here: it's Galway, and it's February.

The usual snack and chugger bribery has failed. Eventually I drag Boy kicking and screaming from the park just in time to run into a friend taking her pink and smiling baby out for a morning stroll. I try to swap buggies without her noticing but she's too smart for me. Boy is headbutting the side bars of the buggy and wailing as if I have just deprived him of the only pleasure he has ever experienced. This tantrum lasts half an hour (yes, I timed it). That's longer than we spent in the park altogether. Eventually he falls asleep, nose smooshed into the front bar of the buggy, just moments before we reach home.

It may be a while before we go to the swings again. There is plenty of other fun to be had: watch this space...

Friday Fun

Today has been a somewhat frenetic mix of playing with friends (Boy), gossip with other mammies (me), puking (Girl), sleeping (Girl and Boy), cooking (me), eating (me, B and Girl), more puking (Girl), refusing to eat (Boy), tantrums (me and Boy), jogging in the rain (me and B), cutting, gluing and colouring (me, Boy and B), eating glue (Girl), yet more puking (Girl) and collapsing with exhaustion (all of the above).

It was great to catch up with a couple of friends this morning, and Boy was thrilled to see his little girlfriend. No clever activities needed, just a lot of shrieking, banging, running in circles and cuddling. I got to hold an ADORABLE three-week old baby, and I introduced another friend to the joys of feeding her almost-2 year-old toddler a lemon for the first time (with camera at the ready, naturally).

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.