On dreadlocks...

Ellie's hair is the bane of my life - and also of hers. Whenever we sit and comb it she screams herself into hysterics.

We combed her hair yesterday. It had been a while, and Jeff had said to her that morning at breakfast that she was one stage shy of dreadlocks, so I figured I had better do something. There were a couple of huge matted tangles that honestly were starting to look a bit dreadlocky...

She screamed the whole time. It took so long that Nicholas woke up and was hungry and then he screamed the whole time too. Kate wanted a drink and she kept bringing me her sippy cup, trying to shove it into my hand which meant that she repeatedly bonked Ellie on the head with it. When she didn't get a drink then she screamed the whole time too. Ellie didn't enjoy being bonked on the head with a sippy cup but she was already screaming so there was nowhere for her to go to further express her distress. Adam sat there with his hands over his ears. There was nowhere he could go where people weren't screaming.

By the time we were done I wanted to be screaming too. I came so close to just going and chopping it off! I cannot wait for the day that she starts taking care of her own hair - which, I am reliably informed, will not be until about 5th grade.

The next five years of combing Ellie's hair are going to break me.

Christmas Subterfuge

One of the things that I love about my kids is how totally rubbish they are at being sneaky. If they have ever been forbidden to do something and they go ahead and do it anyway, they will usually come and tell me - 'Mum, I sneaked a cookie!' They just can't keep it to themselves.

Both Adam and Ellie are pretty transparent, and I loved this little conversation that I had with her yesterday:

Ellie: Mum, are there Christmas presents in your closet?

Me (knowing that I've been rumbled): Yes.

Ellie: Who are they for?

Me: Oh you know, Aunt Steffie and Grandpa and people like that.

Ellie: Can I go and look?

Me: No. Not until they're wrapped up. Don't go up there.

Ellie (inching towards the stairs): Mum, I'm just going to go and play upstairs... in your closet...

The presents are being transferred to the attic as soon as they go to school this morning!