Adventurous Challenge Met

Taking the children swimming is no doubt viewed by many parents as a fairly routine thing. For me, however, it was a bit of an adventure, as I have never done it on my own before, and the Squirmle hasn't been in a pool for nearly a year, which for him is two-thirds of a lifetime. We were going to go with his friend Paul, but Paul has a cold. I compounded the challenge by deciding to put my Green hat on and take the Squirmle and his buggy on the bus, which is also something I have not done before.

I am pleased to report an almost unqualified success. A bit of a wait for the bus, which became unexpectedly busy (another buggy, and hordes of pensioners), but the infant fell asleep early in the journey, which helped, especially as it also enabled me to check out without interruption all those hateful details (where are the lockers? how do you get into them? where are the loos? ditto? etc.).

The Squirmle was overwhelmed by the pool at first - mainly, I think, by the noise and the number of people - and he clutched me and whimpered for the first ten minutes or so. Then he realized that all those other children were actually laughing and enjoying themselves, and that sploshing gently up and down in the water was not unpleasant. Pretty soon he had remembered how to smile and kick feebly while being floated around on his tummy, so we had a good 20 minutes before his teeth started to chatter. Memo to self: take a bigger bag - one that will carry not only all the towels, changing stuff, snacks, etc., but also all the clothes that both of you are wearing, including shoes and coats! No hot snacks at the leisure centre this morning, but we found our way to the Cathedral coffee shop and shared a jacket potato with baked beans.

Got back at 2 o'clock, and he's still asleep two hours later! Result! For making an acquaintance with water, it was a lot more hassle for me than letting him pour muddy water over himself out of a flowerpot on the patio (which was yesterday's amusement), but involves less laundry.

Not reading books

Not reading books is a talent I need to cultivate. Especially with non-fiction, I have a tendency to pick up a book that looks as if it might be interesting, and then keep picking it up and reading a bit more, even though I've realized it's not actually that interesting and I could use my time more constructively (or enjoyably) doing something else. I am doing this with "Hating America" at the moment: I guess that, like Winnie-the-Pooh with a jar of honey, I am making quite sure that it is the same all the way to the bottom, and faintly hoping that the last section (on the most modern period) might have a bit more interest. I may find myself doing the same with "Emergence": books about things like complexity and game theory always have that patina of boringness, with the use of small line drawings to illustrate concepts which are either incomprehensible anyway or blindingly obvious. It's partly to do with the nature of the detail: if you're interested in emergence in the evolution of the biosphere, a disquisition on checkers-playing computers is simply an irritation.

Who needs people when you've got books?

The latest plan for the reorganization of the house involves the removal of the guest double bed in favour of a pair of single beds which stack one below the other. One of these is currently under our bed, the other in the study. This will free up the space under our bed for boxes of books, and a whole wall of the study will become available for bookcases full of books. Future guests must reconcile themselves to a slightly less comfortable bed, but a more accessible collection of reading matter. I think that's a fair compromise!

Further Steps

Further steps have been taken by the Squirmle: he is now capable of walking the length of the kitchen by himself. He is also capable of climbing up the stairs (though not down). I discovered this a couple of weeks ago. Having nipped upstairs for something, I watched from the top as he boldly set out from the bottom. I knew he could manage a couple of steps, but he was two thirds of the way up before he stopped and looked up to grin. His next move, I suspected, would be to stand up, and then sit down in mid air. Hoping to avert this catastrophe, I stretched down and took his hand. I then had to keep hold of him while getting down below him, which meant worming down the stairs on my stomach and then turning round, an exercise both inelegant and uncomfortable. He is now barred from the front hall by a gate in the kitchen doorway and a closed door to the living room.

Busy, busy, busy

Too busy to blog for a while, mainly because of trying to do some DIY and sort out a lot of workmen. Had to clear much of a house, which involved about half a dozen trips to the dump in the trusty Morris Traveller.

We spent a week in Bunessan on the Isle of Mull, and had a mainly excellent holiday. The Squirmle did throw up on the Iona ferry, while I was carrying him in a backpack, so that caused a bit of fuss as both of us needed wiping down when we got there. Still made it to the morning service at the Abbey, though. The Squirmle rapidly discovered that abbeys have great acoustics, so I walked around the cloister while K stayed in the service. He passed through a brief period of heptodonty during the week, and finished up a fully toothed octodont.

Reading time

Fitting books into my life has never seemed trickier, but I'm managing to get some reading done. A little parental neglect over the past couple of days has enabled me to get through the pleasant if underwhelming Prelude to Foundation by Asimov, and putting The Small World of Fred Hoyle into the loobry enabled me to get through that in less than a week. The latter is one of those few books in which I have made pencil marks in the margin, finding several short passages worthy of noting, but not intending to hang on to the book in the long term. The plan is to type the notable bits into the laptop and then pass the book on. When I will get time for this I can't imagine...

Upstanding citizen

Standing up has become the Squirmle's favourite amusement. He has now graduated to scaling the sheer sides of pieces of furniture, including the coffee table and the fridge. He can also walk practically the full length of the kitchen when held up by both hands. The vinyl is rather slippery, but his habit of removing his socks at almost every opportunity makes progress possible.

For the first time, he has shown interest in his "Baby Einstein" video. To prevent him from standing up two inches from the screen and trying to touch the pictures, I have wedged a baby walker in front of the TV, so he can stand and watch at a more reasonable distance. (I still don't see the point of much of the video: why, when a voice is heard counting to twenty in some language or other, do we see a hand slowly moving four or five objects?)

We went in the garden this week, as the weather was (at last) just warm enough. When first placed on the lawn several weeks ago, he screamed, apparently at the unfamiliar cold green furry surface: this time, exploring from the safety of the picnic rug, he seemed unconcerned.