The Paradox in Puddle City

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry Add comments

Hiya!

 

It was Eldest’s turn to hit the ‘half birthday’ mark today!  I am so glad to be able to report that he has been in good health for the last six months, after him having to miss his seventh birthday for that yucky bug 🙂

As usual, it has been a fast first term back at school, and we are now embarking on our October holiday week.  Today has been relatively calm, with the kids enjoying the fact that they get to lounge about the house and play with super heroes and cars whenever they like.  No set homework for Eldest to think about for at least two weekends!!  It’s fab!

Eldest has been bringing home a few Horrid Henry books to read to us, and he and his brother have been giggling over them.  The boys also loved revisiting T.S. Eliot’s cat poems for National Poetry Day on the 28th.  Eldest could remember that Growltiger had an ear missing, from parent readings over supper when Youngest was still in his high chair 😉  it’s lovely to think that the boys can recall snippets of what we spent time doing with them!

Since primary three started, Eldest has been doing some Yoga in his gym lessons with the help of the lady from  Cosmic Kids.  He was very eager to share the experience with his brother, so requested that I put the YouTube channel on the tablet, and the alphabet mats out in the playroom. I must say that is it quite surreal to watch our lively boys sitting cross-legged on the floor, their hands together, repeating “naaa-maaast-eeeeh”!  Seven and four year olds are ridiculously flexible, and they really enjoy the stories that go with each episode.  Hubby and I have snapped a crazy amount of photos 😉

Eldest has been enjoying the football he gets in his P.E lessons, too, and also requests to be allowed to go and climb a tree with his friends, at the back of his school playground, when I come to pick him up.  I don’t always let him (it’s a long walk home, after all!) but when I do, he comes down the hill again full of all the moments he narrowly cheated death by twisting a certain way in the nick of time…with the dirt splatters to prove it.

I have felt a lot calmer, over the years, when he’s tested his balancing skills on the Trim Trail instead! (You can see the small wooded part of the playground behind Eldest, in of some of the photos).

 

Eldest loves writing and drawing, and his desk is often a mass of stray papers (interspersed with plastic knights, and maybe the large castle he has probably played with every day he’s been at home, for several years now).  Since he was first able to communicate with me, he has spun the stories behind his creations.  I get a real kick out of him now being able to write down all the scenarios that are in his head. 

As I think I have said before, it fascinates him that Enid Blyton was able to be so prolific, and he keeps referring back to that and wondering how many books he could manage if he started when he was, say, ten 😉 in his head, Enid’s name is ‘Ian’, however.  I do correct him, but I think he has invented an image he can relate to easily.  I am trying not to be too feminist about it…

*grumbles to self*

In class this year, Eldest and his peers have been thinking about village life.  They have had to draw maps and characters from “Thistle Mountain” as part of their homework.  Eldest’s character is the janitor of the high school.  I love this representation of him:

“This is the janitor…he is angry because people were throwing mud at his face – that’s why it is so red!”

 

I am always having to think hard with these sparky fellows under my care.  Eldest is perpetually  fascinated by how things work, and why people are motivated to do the things they do.  Our walks to and from our local school (that incorporates the nursery) have been peppered with interesting theories, misunderstandings, musings and plots for over four years now.  Eldest never got on with a buggy board, so has hoofed up and down those pavements countless times; scanned the changing skies with me; marked each turn of season; thought about the placement of every sign/railing/wall/tree/lamppost/drain cover etc…and marvelled at shadows whenever the sun appears.

It doesn’t matter how I look at it, I was sent the best little vehicles for creativity I could ever have asked for.  I wish I could video every revelation they stumble upon, every thought they tease out so that I could learn from them again and again – and maybe write all the works that flood into my brain…which I invariably forget by the time I get home 😉

I chuckled when I saw what words came up today: they are very apt for a poem about our irrepressible seven year old scamp!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fox  Player  Inside  Mud  Paradox  Pluck  City  Ladder  Drama

 

I’ve seen him run

When the fox appears,

But then seem to root

For his dastardly schemes;

Before cheering as the good guys win the day.

He is a dedicated player

Of games I can’t fathom

Where skill and/or speed

Are hard earned –

Persistence a huge feature

Of his ‘inside’ pursuits.

 

But this child is also happy

In a bath of mud:

Many’s the time

Our beautiful paradox

Has had me pluck

His soaking self from puddle city!

 

He is a prickly questioner:

Ripping my metaphorical tights

And using the ladder

To climb on my last nerve.

 

He ramps up my drama,

But is also the planner

Of exciting things to do.

A magical mystery tour

With our Eldest at the helm

Will never end in boredom.

 

(And his sense of direction

Is always much keener than mine)

 

There is a video of a three year old Eldest in the puddles here.  For some reason it refused to embed in this post, but it plays on (my public) Facebook.  Enjoy!  😉

 

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3 Responses to “The Paradox in Puddle City”

  1. Jane Wright Says:

    Nice poem, full of motherly pride and love

  2. PrettyKoolDame Says:

    Love this post. It made me smile. 🙂

  3. Montaffera Says:

    Awww 😉 I’m glad I wrote it, then! x

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