I’m going to cling to the spirit of better late than never on this one. These pictures were taken on the 18th and now finally I’ve managed to get around to posting them. I really wanted to be only a teeny bit late, or preferably not late at all but it is what it is and here we are. What’s ten days between friends.
My crazy, noisy, wonderful little trio, running around in the garden in ten minutes between going to look around a house and heading off to watch John play hockey.
Writing this on Sunday evening, on a day where the three of them seem to have been the most picklish children that ever made a pixie look like an angel, while, and quite probably because, we’re batting around trying to prink a few bits of the house in the hope that someone wants to come to see it soon, it’s soothing to look at these pictures and remember that actually for the most part they’re pretty awesome.
My girls are so sweet with each other, especially when no-one’s looking. On Sunday afternoon they had their school advent spiral, a first for both of them, and while I saw Kitty walk the spiral, Pip’s ability to sit still and watch had been tested to its limited by an hour of sitting and watching and so we had to scoot out before it was the turn of the Nursery class and so I didn’t see Elma’s. Kitty’s teacher came up to me afterwards to say how well Elma had done, and how Kitty had been rooting for her, and that’s their relationship to a tee. They can press each other’s buttons like no-one else in the best sisterly style, but they look out for each other as easily as breathing, and I think they’re really enjoying the shared connection of being at the same school, just across the hall from each other.
When you add Pip to the mix, oh that boy! The girls have realised that in his sweet and innocent two year old self they have the most persuadable accomplice. So often I find him innocently engaged in mischief, proud to own up to it because he thinks we’ll love highlighter pen all over the walls of a house we’re trying to sell, and when we ask where he got the idea; “Litty told me do it!”. I’m sure she did, and I’m equally certain that he’s got a better sense of what is mischief than he’s letting on, but as the baby of the family he’s cute enough to get away with almost anything.
The three of them together can be incredibly sweet; on Saturday morning, John had a very early start to hockey so we were still pottering around in pyjamas when he left, and I climbed back upstairs to find Kitty sitting in the rocking chair in Pip’s room, telling her sister a story loosely based on Pip’s Wimmelbuch. Pip scrambled up onto his bed to listen, and as I sat in the corner and tried to make a start on Elma’s Christmas cardigan they went around in a circle, each reading or telling a story (even Pip with an unparalleled version of That’s Not My Teddy). It was calm and lovely and wonderful and all the things that life with three children dreams to be. I’d be misrepresenting the situation if I claimed that they were angels; they’re very human little people, who are using us and each other to practice for the real world, which hard though it is at the time, is a good thing in the long run. But for every squabble there are moments like this, of pure unbridled joy.
Two little sisters, and their brother too, in November:
and of course – the outtake!