I have been so consumed with *other* things lately, my poor little bloggy blog has gone untended :(
For this, I can only apologise profusely and promise look after it properly hence forth.
I have been writing away, when inspiration strikes (usually either on the loo, 03.00hrs or at work...) but have managed to go past our intended deadline for the latest submission. But then, I'm always late, so there should be no shock there.
My good friend's father died just over a week ago so I have been feeling very down, and contemplative regarding mortality etc. The funeral was on Friday we (four boys and a girl) all went to show our love and support for the family. I have grown up with these boys, and even after over 15 years, and even though we don't see each other all that often, I think at times like death of a loved one, you can truly see who your friends are and that they'll always be there for you.
Madam P has been enjoying making crafty things of late (as in art, not wily ways to outsmart mummy, although sometimes I do wonder...) and getting knee-deep in paint etc. She has also enjoyed visiting the zoo (£13.50 for an adult ticket - what the bjesus is that all about?!) with Daddy, and being delighted with the 'stinky' tigers and greedy peahens trying to pinch her cheese sandwiches.
Our winter potatoes are coming on just lovely and the chickens are thriving, coming running as soon as I open their little door in a morning, with a "bock bock bock" awaiting a little hello and a handful of grass.
She is singing all the time - day and night, and has learned some French songs with, surprisingly, a wonderful French accent and can count to 12 in French (not bad for a two-year-old from Lancashire). Her memory retention is amazing, compared with my amoeba-like recall. There is hope for her then.
We talked about death this week again. Some months ago she brought Hans Christian Anderson's The Little Match Girl to me and wanted to know why the little girl at the end of the book was lying on the step all blue. We have gone with telling her that the little girl had died, and that meant that we couldn't see her anymore - that's what happens when someone dies and it's very sad.
So when my friend's father died and I was getting ready for the funeral, she came out with, "You going to funeral? It's very sad Phil's daddy died. We won't be able to see him anymore." Perfect. I think, for a two-year-old, she has got a great grasp, although basic, of death. I will not shield her from life, of which death is a part of - I don't see the point. It will create fear and uncertainty, and perhaps repression of feelings.
I'm not saying that we would go into great depth of how someone dies, but it is important that children aren't treated as though they are stupid. Death is life and life is death - it's unavoidable so why treat it like a hushed subject of fear and loathing? It's gonna happen to us all, however and whenever, so I say embrace, rejoice and love life. Death is but a mere pause.