Lately, I've been having vivid dreams with a lot of jazz ballet in them. Last night, I was a waitress and Keith was my boss. I tried to convince the other staff that every time we went into the kitchen we should do that finger-snapping, knees-bent jazz walk past the customers. I thought it was so hilarious that I woke up snorting.
Last week I dreamed I went down to some dangerous docks, where a dozen sailors were hanging from railings and crouched on the planks, in your classic West Side Story jazz-criminal poses. I was doing a sort of seductive chicken dance while they snapped their fingers menacingly.
Then last month I dreamed that I tried to sew Keith a pair of shorts, They ended up as a panel of carpet at the front, with a g-string at the back. I was embarrassed but gave them to him anyway and he wore then to be supportive. I dreamed about those shorts twice.
Ivy's Imaginarium continues to fascinate us. This week: 'I have secret eyes, Mummy. They are green and when I put on glasses I can see things. Penguins. Thomas tooting. Sharks biting fish.'
The skulls are still with us. In conversation she might say 'Hey! My skulls are talking!' but when I asked her the other night how they were she said 'They are dead. My skulls are dead, your skulls are dead, and Teddy's skulls are dead too.' I think it might have something to do with understanding dinosaurs, or else she's starting her Emo phase really quite early.
Ted is cruising along, all fluffy blondness and violent cuddles, and so much happier these days now he has enough language to make his inner life at least partly understood. Yesterday I took him for his 18 month vaccinations. I was armed with the big guns - a Chupa-Chup- for the inevitable tears and anguish. Not a peep! Just a little 'what was that!' face, and on with the show. He amazes me, often.
I'm working on improving playtime with the kiddos this week. I read about some research that says that half an hour spent in play-directed by the kids- is worth much more than hours of the 'that's a good tower' comments while washing up and folding laundry.
Without beating myself up- somebody has to fold the nappies!- I'm aiming to find that every day; a conscious and dedicated half-hour of just play, without distraction. I'll see how I go...and report back. I hope you all have a lovely rainy Wednesday, and that your skulls tell you that they like your shoes.