Level 2 Chi Kung.

Woke with a sense of needing to gird my loins ready for Katie’s birthday party this afternoon. In the past, Nick and I have done all parties jointly, but last year I had winter vomiting bug or some such, and Nick was obliged to do Katie’s party on his own. So this year he claimed precedent and suggested I should basically man (or woman) up and fly solo. Unlike previous parties, which have taken place on Sunday afternoon and involved parents dropping the little guests off, this year it was an after-school affair, and I was collecting the guests directly from school. This had the advantage that it would avoid the usually inevitable waiting around for the disorganised late-comers, but the disadvantage that I would be shepherding 8 unruly 7 year olds through the traffic. Previous years some of the kids arrived at the restaurant so hyper that they were a bit of a hazard, so this year I arranged the party for 4pm, leaving 40 minutes during which I could essentially run them on the heath like the overly-energetic little puppies they truly are.

Sadly late-comers are a slippery and tenacious bunch and, arriving at school to collect the children, I was told that Bobby’s uncle had already taken him home, because his mum wanted him to come home and change before the party. I collected the rest and began doing my cat-herding thing to get them safely across a succession of busy roads and on to the heath. They had a fabulous time, chasing each other around on the grass and getting rid of some of that pent up energy. Got them to the restaurant for 4pm, got everyone’s hands washed, paper chef’s hats and aprons on… 4:20 and still no Bobby. Finally told the staff we shouldn’t wait any longer and they bought down dough and toppings and started the children off on making their own pizzas. It’s a simple enough idea but the kids absolutely love it and slots are booked up far in advance. It was interesting to note more of the kids using olives and pepperoni, though no one would go near the mushrooms. Weird – mushrooms were a sought-after treat when I was that age. Bobby finally arrived, and the staff were lovely, bustling him into an apron and helping him get his dough pressed out. Unfortunately, of all the kids, Bobby probably needed the run on the heath most…

Once the masterpieces had gone off to the oven, the children devoured hot dough balls with butter (bizarre) then there came that awkward hiatus when there is nothing really to do but wait for the pizzas to come back. Nature abhors a vacuum, and Clara and Sophie quickly discovered that, if they sucked squash up into their straws, they could then blow it across the table at Bobby. For some reason, it is not the done thing over here to open presents at kids’ parties – fancy gift bags are handed over and then opened later at home. This always seems weird to me, and very disappointing for children who have chosen, or even made, their gifts or cards themselves, but when in Rome and all that – so I generally go with the flow. But today there were no other parents present and hey, I was desperate. So, to stop a full-on food fight breaking out, I announced ‘Presents! It’s time to open the presents!’ By the time the majority of the presents had been pried out of their elaborate wrapping, the pizzas had arrived. Yay! There was another break in proceedings after pizzas had been devoured, and before ice cream could be served, so Katie and I agreed that we would break with tradition again and give out the party bags (which, thank heavens, included colour changing felt pens). ‘Everyone decorate your hat!’ In the end, the ice cream took so long to arrive that parents began to arrive first, so at least there was no awful moment to wonder if some parent had decided that they would, on balance, prefer not to have junior back!

Sinniqua had texted earlier in the day to ask if I could keep Elias for a bit after the party, as she wouldn’t be back from Finland until about 6:30. It wasn’t a problem as Elias is no trouble and I knew Katie would love having someone come home to play after the party. It did cause a bit of a rebellion amongst the other kids though, several of whom were quite aggrieved: ‘If there is a party AND a play date, why aren’t we invited?’ and their parents looked hopeful, but there was no way I was sticking my neck through that noose …

Level 2 Chi Kung.

Having felt too ill to bake yesterday, it was now or never for the second tier of Katie’s cake. She had specified that one layer should be chocolate and the other Victoria Sponge. I’ve never made a Victoria Sponge – I’ve never quite forgiven it for not being a real (i.e. cream) sponge! But Katie, born in this country, sees nothing wrong with it. No shortage of recipes for the benighted stuff so I went for Delia’s version. I had to make a treble mixture to get the size required. Slight panic when I discovered we were almost out of baking powder, but I managed to dredge up the baking soda / cream of tartar conversion on google. I followed the recipe exactly, adding the beaten eggs a teaspoonful at a time, sieving the flour in from a great height – all the typical (and usually unnecessary) Delia faff. The mixture looked fine, rose up nicely and went a nice colour. Given that it was a treble mixture, I wasn’t expecting it to be cooked in 25 minutes but 45 minutes came and went it was still very wobbly. Then right at the last minute, the damn thing sank in the middle. Arrrgh! No time (or inclination frankly) to make another, so once it was cooled, Nick simply cut the raised edges off. This had the advantage that we could taste the off cuts and, to my enormous surprise, it tasted great!

Level 2 Chi Kung.

A couple of weeks ago I went to the GP, seeking, amongst other things, some ear drops. I sometimes have problems with eczema in my ears and have learned, the hard way, that it is best to sort it sooner rather later. I told the GP (not one I’d seen before) that my ear was sore and itchy and, without asking which ear, he shoved a scope in the sore ear first (making it sorer still!), then the good ear (neatly transferring any infection) and said ‘Nah, they’re fine, just a bit dry. Put some moisturiser in them.’ Well, by last night they were sore enough to make for a very disturbed night. Waking this morning, groggy, in pain and slightly deaf, I was glad to have a fairly quiet day ahead, doing some bits and pieces of tedious but essential admin. By 5:30 the lack of sleep was beginning to tell and I fell asleep several times waiting for Katie to finish art.

Level 2 Chi Kung.

Nick off on a bike ride and I’m on morning but, shock horror, after all the tortilla making etc there was only one egg left in the fridge – so no gingerbread pancakes! Poor Dash, who had been looking forward to pancakes all week, had to make do with crumpets for breakfast.

Weeks ago, Katie presented me with a beautifully drawn design for her birthday cake, with views from several angles. To my horror, the drawing showed an elaborate two-tier construction, with the bottom layer grass green and decorated with flowers, and the top layer sky blue, decorated with butterflies. Notes to the side of the page specified that one cake should be chocolate and the other Victoria sponge, and the icing should be mint-chocolate flavoured (beats me how you get mint-choc icing sky blue). I blame Great British Bake Off! This was clearly a case for division of labour – so I agreed with Nick that I will produce the cakes and he (much more artistic and steadier of hand) will take care of the icing. To help things along, after we had finished the party bag shopping yesterday, Katie and I went to Sainsbury’s and picked up ready-roll icing in 5 different colours, some edible silver balls and (just in case of disaster) some ready-made wafer butterflies.

Level 2 Chi Kung.

Mr Baulch is getting seriously tired of going over the same stuff over and over and has put the hard word on Dash to practice. I have agreed with Dash that, henceforth, he will practice every evening. When, in the latter part of the lesson, Dash managed a three-finger chord, I pointed out, by way of encouragement, that Dash now knew more chords than John Lennon did when Love Me Do became a hit!  Unfortunately Dash has no idea who Lennon was, and Mr Baulch was decidedly unimpressed. Hey ho.

Level 2 Chi Kung.

One of Sherlock’s borrowers had asked if Sherlock could go for a sleepover last night and, since two of the children coming to the party are a little nervous of dogs, I was very happy to agree. Last week I tipped some dead pot plants out in the garden and, ever since, Sherlock has been busily tracking them down and dragging them back in through the dog door. So it felt good, after Tudor had collected him, to remove all the various dog bedding, chew toys, pieces of wood and bits of dead plant that had collected in the kitchen and give the floor a good clean. I stuffed all the bedding, toys etc in the garage. I had intended to bring everything back in this morning, but I got involved in other things, with the result that it was all still locked in the garage when Tudor brought Sherlock home at lunchtime. Poor Mr Holmes was rather discombobulated to find all trace of his residence erased! Even once I had brought his stuff in, he was desperate for cuddles and other reassurance that he is still part of the family.

Sinniqua is off to Finland for a few days to do voice overs, so she asked me earlier in the week if I could collect Elias this afternoon and keep him until 6:30 when his dad would pick him up. After-school club didn’t seem to have clocked that someone other than his parents would be picking Elias up but, after a momentary hesitation, they let me take him anyway. It will be interesting to see how the school reacts when I march off with 8 kids on Wednesday, when I collect the little guests for Katie’s party!

I’m guessing that they must have been learning about Valentine’s Day at school as, on the way home, Elias started talking about who is in love with whom in their class. Apparently Sam, Ned, Bobby and a couple of others are all in love with Stella. I can’t picture Stella – so she is either one of the new-ish ones, or she has never made it to any of Katie’s parties. I was intrigued and asked Elias why all the boys are in love with Stella.

Elias: It’s not ALL the boys, it’s just … [reels off long list]
J: So what do you think it is they like about her?
Elias: Well she looks like someone from Frozen and all the boys love Frozen.
J: Really? I would have thought Frozen was more for girls.
Elias: [shocked] No! I love Frozen!
J: Ok. So, do you love Stella?
Elias: Not really – she’s always telling me off.
J: Who do you like?
Elias: I don’t know. I quite like Olivia – because she makes me laugh.

This comes on top of the incident last week when Sam and Bobby decided to up the ante on their game of Connect Four by having a wager: if Sam won, Bobby had to tell the class that he had pooped his pants; if Bobby won, Sam had to show the class his willie. Bobby won, and much to Katie’s horrified delight, Sam honoured the bet. Sam is the same kid who got into strife for taking off his onesie at the class sleepover in December and running about naked. He obviously feels the family jewels are something to be proud of!

It’s always a pleasure to have Elias – he and Katie play together so well and, if I say, ‘Play downstairs’, he stays downstairs. It no longer takes me by surprise when the 6:30 pick up turns out to be 7:45 – I’m guessing that Finns might share this cultural characteristic with Russians maybe – so it isn’t a problem. That is, it’s not a problem for me – it can be a bit of a problem for the person picking him up. If I knew when they would arrive, I would make sure that K & E didn’t start playing a complicated game or watching a DVD just before pick up time but as it is, since I don’t know when pick-up time is going to be, I am obliged to let them go for it – which means Elias is often very reluctant to leave.

Level 2 Chi Kung.

On the way home from school, Katie told me a long story about a dream she had last night, in which she woke to find the whole house submerged, up to the eaves, in sparkly-white, pristine snow. In the dream, she climbed out the attic window and jumped down in order to create a tunnel to allow Sherlock to go in and out of his dog door. For weeks now she has been tortured by forecasts of snow that never seems to materialise, so when she woke from this wonderful, glittering, ecstatic dream, in which she had the role of dog-rescuing hero, she was delighted to find a thin sprinkling of actual snow on the ground. For her sake I do hope we get a bit more. Both her and Dash are desperate to do the boiled-maple-syrup-tipped-on-the snow thing. Katie is also convinced that Sherlock will love snow and want to frolic in it. I am not so sure – this morning he showed not the slightest interest in the little bit of snow. And far from any desire to frolic, he seemed rather keen to stay in his bed in the warm kitchen as long as possible!

Level 2 Chi Kung.

A day of completing errands and receiving small bits of good news. I was delighted when the (fairly new and rather grumpy) cleaner reported that the oat-based Aveeno Cream I gave her last week had cleared up her little boy’s eczema without her having to use the steroid cream provided by the GP. The number of people I have put onto Aveeno Cream, J&J really ought to put me on commission. Then I received word from the builder working on my Christchurch house to say that all the asbestos has been removed and they are just waiting for the clean air testing to get the all clear to go back in and finish off the work. On the errands front I confirmed the date and venue for Jack’s transition review, arranged a tour of a sixth form college he might attend, began dealing with the laundry mountain (again) and brushed the dog. Normally Sherlock just goes to the groomer, but we somehow missed booking him in and now we can’t get an appointment until the 7th of March. He is already looking like an animated sheepskin rug, so heaven knows what he will be like by March.

Level 2 Chi Kung.

For the last week or so, Katie has been talking about wanting to have ‘a perfect day’ with just the two of us. Since we were both badly in need of a trip to the hairdresser, I suggested a Bayswater day, in which we go back to our old stamping ground, go to the hairdresser, wander around the shops or the park (depending on weather) and then have either lunch or dinner at Katie’s favourite restaurant, the Notting Hill branch of Carluccio’s. Katie agreed that a Bayswater day would be just the thing, and I called the hairdresser and booked us both in for 3:30pm on Sunday.

Partly because she loves going to the hairdresser (on account of the pampering and free biscuits), and partly for ease of dealing with her curls, Katie greatly prefers to keep her hair quite short. However she kindly agreed to grow it for a few months to allow me to take some portraits of her with her hair up. I was thinking of something like this:

Photographer Takes Portraits of Her 5 Year Old Daughter Dressed as Famous Women from History

Photographer Takes Portraits of Her 5-Year-Old Daughter Dressed as Famous Women from History.

I had begun to draw up with a list, for discussion with Katie obviously, of notable women whose portraits I would like to duplicate: Marie Curie, Georgia O’Keefe, Florence Nightingale, Kate Sheppard, Doris Lessing, George Elliot, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Jacqueline Du Pre, Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey… But somehow the project never felt quite right – there was no momentum behind it and, as the months passed and Katie’s hair grew longer, it gradually morphed into simply wanting to record her perfect seven year old self. Even that didn’t get done however as she seemed to have a succession of minor scratches on her face which I really didn’t want to immortalise. Now, though, the hairdresser was booked, so it had to be this morning – or never. Fortunately Katie loves having her photo taken, so was happy for our perfect day to include a photo shoot.

With Nick off on a long bike ride, certain other things had to be taken care of first, but as soon as I had made a mountain of toast for Jack and pancakes with maple syrup for Dash and Katie, I went upstairs and laid out clothes for Katie, then set up the tripod and got out a range of props (mostly jewellery and scarves but also, in a nod to the original idea, a lab coat, paint brush and oils, and Katie’s cello. Katie was the perfect model, and sat patiently, looking in whatever direction I indicated and needing only an occasional break to get the requisite giggling done. I was very pleased with the pictures – now I just need to bite the bullet and buy Photo Ninja so I can get the raws onto the Mac.

We spent longer than planned taking photographs, so I called the salon and asked if we could move the appointment to 3:30pm, partly so that we would have time for dim sum at the Royal China beforehand. They were happy to oblige. We headed off and got as far as Waterloo before we experienced our first setback – discovering that there is still (STILL) no change to the Central Line at Bond Street. Katie dislikes the underground, so she was a bit put out that this would mean three underground trains instead of two ON OUR PERFECT DAY. However the third train arrived straight away and a man moved so that we could sit together and, as we chatted, she squeezed my hand and said ‘Actually Mummy, it hasn’t ruined our perfect day, because it’s quite nice having the extra time to chat’. I agreed, while inside my heart sang at this indication of my wee girl adopting a mindset which will give her the best chance of a happy and mentally healthy life. We arrived at Queensway Station to find one of the lifts out of action, and had a joke about the lift being broken when we moved out and, two and a half years later, it’s still not fixed! Delayed by the train problems and the long wait for the one functional lift, we finally reached the restaurant at about 2:40pm, only to find a long queue of people waiting for tables. It is quite usual to find people queueing out the door and right down the street if you show up at noon on a weekend day, but after 2pm one would normally expect to get straight in. We were told that there would be a 20 minute wait for a table and (knowing that it would likely be much longer, given that the Royal China has no tables that seat less than four and FCFS counts for nothing if they have the option to get four diners seated instead of two) I explained to Katie that that wouldn’t really give us time to eat before we had to leave for the hairdresser. Katie looked a bit downcast at the idea of missing out on the long awaited prawn crackers but then we both had the idea of getting the food to take away and eating it in the park. In the end they took so long to get the food sorted (unusual – they are normally very very fast) that we ended up having to take it with us to the hairdresser. Fortunately the place was almost deserted, our stylist wasn’t ready for us, and the only other customer had a little girl with her who was very keen to share our prawn crackers. So we made ourselves at home on the sofa and nibbled happily on our dim sum.

Katie got her hair cut into a short layered bob and then made friends with the new receptionist and danced around the salon with her while I waited for my colour to work and then while I relaxed in the huge leather massaging chair getting my hair washed and scalp massaged. Bliss.

A spot of shopping, then off to Carluccio’s where Katie had her favourite: penne with butter and parmesan. They bring the penne out with only melted butter on it and then offer a sprinkle of parmesan from a lidded bowl. Katie somewhat startled the waitress: each time the waitress paused, or asked if Katie would like more parmesan, Katie said ‘Yes, please’, very politely, until the bowl was empty. At one point, the waitress looked over at me as if to say ‘She can’t really want more, can she?’ but I just nodded and said ‘She really likes parmesan.’. Later, having eaten every scrap, Katie announced ‘Well Mummy, they haven’t lost their touch.’.

We decided to take the bus back to Charing Cross rather than tangle with the underground again, which went well right up until we got into ChX and discovered that NO trains were running at all. I felt sorry for the poor staff, who had obviously drawn the short straw, having to hang around the station all evening telling travellers that there were no trains and trying to work out alternative ways to get them to their destinations. One had clearly decided to make the best of it.

Cheery staff member: Do you two ladies need any help?
J: Well, we’ve just been told to go to Canon Street because there are no trains.
CSM: That’s right. No trains. And what a thing to happen to two beautiful ladies on a day out together. Where are you trying to get to?
J and K: Blackheath
CSM: Blackheath, that’s lovely. Just go out that side door, turn right, walk down to Embankment and take the circle line to Canon Street.
J: Thank you.
K: What a nice man!

So, definitely a perfect day. For what could be more perfect than a day on which someone you love learns that not everything has to go right for it to be a perfect day?