So I have this idea that I'd like to get some storage furniture for the wee one's bedroom in an attempt to get all the crap off the floor. In spite of already having raised 4 children, I am optimistic. But I also thought I would turn it into a learning opportunity. I got out the tape measure and upstairs we went. We discussed width, depth, and height; we looked at IKEA online; we discussed needs and space and decided on some units.
Her decision was to buy everything pink-regardless of practicality or size or price. After an hour I got us out of the house before tieing her up with the metal tape measure. So we went to a friend's house and had a nice time - fitting in educational conversations about the transfer of heat by radiation, conduction or convection, and some discussion of the long A sound, rhyming words and homophones, and some 20 questions and the Yes/No game. That was just on the bus.
Arriving home at tea time, she once again picked up the tape measure and started measuring EVERYTHING in the house. And that is how I know my butt measures 54. Metric, not Imperial.
Sunday, 6 November 2016
Well, the wee one is dive kicking the sofa and making numchucks out of toilet roles. She is balancing and practising her horse stance and press ups. I could call this Physical Education. Or maybe because she is concurrently watching a video on Shaolin Monks, I could call it Religious Education. In reality, I am calling it, "I hope she goes to bed soon."