On health and safety.

Your shoulder hurts. Mostly it aches. Occasionally it feels as though someone has replaces whatever nerve connects the base of your neck to the base of your shoulder-blade with a ribbon of white-hot metal.
Clearly spending two hours on a rowing machine, lifting weights and contorting yourself into improbable yoga positions was a mistake when you had woken up [...]

Read Full Post »

On observational comedy.

So, the Star makes appropriate noises for a selection of animals and thinks all forms of transport make basically the same sound.
It’s cute, but you can teach dogs to do tricks too.
Yesterday the Star was rolling around on his Babushka’s bed getting ready to have his afternoon nap. As well as screaming his head off when [...]

Read Full Post »

On the silent period.

You have a bit of a love/ hate relationship with a man named Stephen Krashen.
Not that he knows you exist, mind. He’s a luminary in the field of research into language acquisition*, although his entire body of work seems to consist of him stating the bleeding obvious and then giving it a seriously researched kind [...]

Read Full Post »

On twitching.

The Star thinks he is some kind of bird man.
Every time you and he get anywhere near a water’s edge, you are suddenly surrounded by a scrabble of birds.
Ducks, swans, geese, pigeons, coots, moorhens, chickens, seagulls, ornamental ducks of a type you don’t know the name of, and some really colorful but highly viscous buggers [...]

Read Full Post »

On it finally happening.

So you are splashing through the big piles of leaves on you way to work, kicking them about, enjoying the crunch.
There’s a man coming towards you.
He catches your eye, grins, and says ‘Autumn. Takes me right back to my childhood.’
And that’s when you realise the Star isn’t with you.

Read Full Post »

On the Victoria and Albert Museum.

The Victoria and Albert Museum doesn’t expect many visits from the Star.
I’m not sure why this is true, given that its sumptuous cafe – there are glittering chandeliers, high ceilings, domes, columns, impressive interior tiles on the walls and the floors and the ceiling, as well as stained glass windows – was full of families [...]

Read Full Post »

On mists and mellow fruitfulness.

Given what a kick the Star gets out of autumn, it’s no wonder it’s you favourite season.
Winter in Britain is hardly inspiring after all. Dark, edging into dark grey, possibly damp and the snow lasts, if you are very very very lucky about one day. And the cold! There’s something bone-achingly unpleasant about moist cold. [...]

Read Full Post »

On getting away with it.

Now adults succumb to the Star’s relentless charm offensive like skittles through butter.
London has become one big village as you are incapable of making it to the end of any given street without someone breaking into a delighted grin at the attempts of the small boy in the pushchair coming towards them to catch, hold and conquer [...]

Read Full Post »

On bias and prejudice.

You think the Star is the cutest thing since sliced bread and you are not afraid to say so.
However, you have noticed that people who have not met the Star do not believe you. They get this superior gleam in their eye and utter patently indulgent murmurs of completely disbelieving agreement. Fond Mama, you can practically hear them [...]

Read Full Post »

On another notable first.

Total time elapsed before the Star attempted to eat the crayons? Five minutes. It was just after breakfast though.

Guess which bit I did and which bit the Star did.

Read Full Post »