Roll me over

These are the photos of Ghin's first successful attempt to roll over on his tummy. We were in the grounds of the school. I had spread out under the cherry tree, which was now looking rather greener than pinker, and we had been playing with a spray of lilacs. I turned around to get something from the bag, and when i turned over, he had done the same. I quickly reached from the camera and viola!

And we also attempted our first family exercise regime today. I harried everyone out of the house at 6.30 pm, for a predinner walk. It's summer after all and Stormont park is one of the loveliest as far as parks go. Of course i'd much rather be walking in a proper nature park, like Crawfordsburn, but imagine if Michael Stone could walk up to the gates of Stormont, what sort of activity they'd have if they made the place more like a jungle. We'd have training camps set up in the forest. The mile up to Stormont is lined with beech trees - i think. They're beech trees, must check. There's a woodland walk and a children's playground. And we could all do with some exercise. Peter forbore all this stoically. It all went very well, until it began to rain. Hopefully we'll not catch colds, which would be ironic, because part of this was to get rid of Peter's perpetual cold. So far things look good. Anyhow, we got out, which is some sort of a minor miracle.

Today i had to read to Oisin the riot act about his eating. It pains me to say this, but he has still not learnt to feed himself any proper food. And it's my fault. I told him as much. I said, it's my fault you haven't leanrt to feed yourself, to paraphrase Marcus Aurelis in Gladiator. See if it's sugar or if it comes in a crisp bag, no problem, but any food, especially if its of any value just takes forever. And he'll actually come to me and say, would you feed me mom. Well we were at the Northern Whig today and they had brought us a really lovely chidren's meal of chicken goujons and these fluffiest of perfectly fried chips with a proper green salad. And that's when the pervarications began. All the excuses in the world to not sit at the table and get stuff into him. On the one hand i was shoving my breast into Ghin, on the other i was feeding Oisin with a fork. I think something inside went ping! and i just thought - i can't be doing this anymore. He either eats or he doesn't. I'm not chasing him like he's a two year old any longer. And so I began one of those rants which come straight from the primeval depths of childhood. Those lectures - which i don't deliver very often - when Ma would go full spate, i think they're called dressing downs, which would be spaced intermittently with "Tell me, what did you think you were doing??" and then you'd try and answer the question and they'd yell, "Don't answer back!!!". I didn't do the don't answer me back bit, but yup, i was off the starting block like a fire cracker. It all concluded with me saying that i was never going to cook for him again and he could eat all the McDonalds in the world he wanted, that we'd never visit another restaurant and that he could be sure that i'm not making the same mistake with Ghin. Then i asked him what he thought of that. He looked at me with the most perfectly contrite face and then asked, "Could i have two more chances?" Don't ever say my son wasn't a born negotiator. He got his two more chances. And this evening, after the walk, he fed himself a bowl of noodles with tofu and spinach with incredible dexterity.

I felt very me adult you child when i did it, but you know what, i think that's what mothers are there for. They're there to say catch yourself on, and till this day my mom's still doing it. Out of pure love of course. It's like that Grateful Dead song - about listening to your momma.

Oh yes and Finn came up with a great scam today as well. Oisin said to me, Ma, Finn has said that if i give him two pounds, he'll give it to charity. Did he now Oisin. I don't think so. You really can't help but laugh. Children, what a gift.