Ivy is currently enamoured with a book about mask-making, which she wants to read constantly. She gets upset if you just discuss the masks on each page though. 'Read it! Read it!' she orders, so currently her bedtime stories go a little like: 'Tools. White board. Black board. PVA glue. masking tape. Pipe cleaners of varying colours. Begin by clipping the paper plate, being sure to mind your fingers, '...etc, etc. She is gripped.
Unfortunately, young Ted- the most adorable barbarian you could hope to be cuddled by - is not at his best when faced with containers of glitter and cotton wool. The urge to destroy is too strong for him to fight. Ivy (whose current catchphrase is 'I just like to do my own thing, OK?') is possessed of an extremely independent spirit (i.e: stubborn as an old dog) and so any helpful suggestions are met with different versions of 'talk to the hand.'
Complicated craft just doesn't fly. Our mask-making efforts looked like this:
Soon he was even perched happily on Ivy's lap while she sat back for a snack, and surveyed her work, to made sure she hadn't missed any important bits.
Teddy's day-carer Wayne told me last week that Ted was the messiest child he'd ever come across in his career. It made me proud. He's got a get-into-spirit, Teddy. Not a touch of timidity. Will he be a swinging hedonist? A captain of industry? A yogurt-artist-in-residence?
Just got to get him through his toddler-hood first...