My son, Max, who is now, amazingly, almost ten years old, has started a blog as part of his Computing class at school. He’s decided to write about a subject dear to both of our hearts: Pet Simulator, a game on Roblox. It’s early days yet, but if you want to give him some encouragement and maybe add a helpful comment, you’ll find it at https://mjordan2014.edublogs.org/.
Child
Please Sleep!
Last Wednesday my son, who is three and a half years old, began his school journey by entering the nursery at the place he’ll go to for the next few years. He’d been going to another nursery for three half days a week but this is proper, full day, every weekday, stuff.
I was expecting him to be tired and, indeed, after the first couple of days he was, but last night he was back to his usual bouncy evening self and this morning he was wide awake and itching to get up at 5:30am. My wife managed to hold him off until six but was then forced to get up with him, it being her turn. I can only hope that he will, eventually and hopefully quite soon, fall into a new pattern of going to sleep quickly at night and staying in bed until a sensible hour of the morning. Any and all advice for helping to get him there will be received gratefully and, if it works, with tears and professions of undying love.
Max Likes Moths
Last night there was a small moth in the house, which had alighted on the wall in the hall. On his way up to bed I showed it to Max, who took one look at it and declared, “I don’t like moths.”
So Juliet and I explained a bit about what moths are and how pretty their wings can be (“a bit like a small butterfly,” we said, which Max really latched on to). I touched it gently to make it move and flutter its wings. All this clearly had the desired effect, because Max then turned and said, “I like moths.”
Gosh, at this rate I might become a half decent parent.
A Self Cleaning Child
This morning Max was eating a bowl of Coco Pops and had chocolate stains all around his mouth and on his hands, in the usual manner of small children. He asked me for a sweet and I told him he could have one if he’d let me wipe him clean. He agreed and by the time I’d fetched the sweets so he could choose one he’d found the wet wipes, got one out and done a pretty reasonable job of cleaning himself up.
I know it may not sound like much to some people but I felt like such a proud father. Every little step he takes as he grows up has the same effect on me. Now, if we can just crack potty training…