The fabulous Claire Payne is hosting a pincushion swap over on her blog and sign ups close on Sunday (14th March). You get a whole month to make your pincushion and send it to your swap partner so why not go for it? I’ve just signed up to try and get me back into the swing of crafting regularly and even I can cope with a month-long deadline

I’ve always said that Findlay’s first four years felt like the longest of my life, but Nairn’s have flown past. I feel like we’ve only just had him so how can he possibly be this age already? How can the baby I brought home from the hospital just a short while ago be preparing for his preschool year at nursery? It’s just unfathomable. For all of you out there with young children: Cherish this time, no matter how hard it is. It’s over far too quickly.

For the fact fans out there:
Nairn weighed 9lb 3oz at birth.
I was induced at 14 days post-dates.
Nairn was due on 18th February but due to his late arrival has missed the cut-off for starting school this year.
Nairn is the animal lover out of our children
His nickname is “George” (… of the jungle) because he’s so large and lumbering but generally kind
He is probably the most loving of our children
He loves to read and his current favourite book is Stick Man by Julia Donaldson
He carries about a really revolting quilt that has fallen apart inside. He won’t sleep without it.
He wants to marry Rachel, one of his ‘Ladies’ at nursery. Or his best friend, N.
I hope he never changes.

Happy birthday my sweet, sweet boy and thank you for bringing four years of light and love to our family.

Meeting his big brother for the first time

Six months

One year, earning the “Destroyer” nickname

Fourteen months, with a new sister

Two

Three

Four

Look at those cheeks! And those eyes! Isn’t she just gorgeous? Can you guys believe it’s been nine and a half months since she arrived? It feels like yesterday.

Anyway, I’m not cruel enough to put an orange hat on a ginger child – she’s simply modelling for me! I made this hat for my wonderful friend Jenn who had a lovely little girl in January. Jenn’s elder daughter is Nairn’s Canadian birth twin – they were born on the same day 3000 miles apart – and both celebrate their 4th birthday tomorrow. Isn’t that sweet?

This hat is made from the candy cane pattern in Itty-Bitty Hats by Susan B. Anderson and knitted in a lovely Debbie Bliss DK cotton in a beautiful bright orange. Isn’t it cute? Greer certainly seems to think so.

Does this photo remind you of anyone..?

I defy anyone to say my girls don’t look alike

I’d like to take you back to July 2008. We – Bob, Findlay, Nairn, Erica and I – were staying on a campsite in Saint-Valéry-sur-Somme, Northern France. The weather was beautiful, the site was peaceful and I was bored rigid so of course I latched onto an idea. Nairn’s hair was a tad overgrown and I thought, “Hey! I can trim it!”

Up until that point I had regularly cut the boys’ hair with a set of trimmers – never with scissors – and the only scissors I had access to were the kitchen scissors supplied in our tent. Still this didn’t deter me and I trimmed the nape of Nairn’s neck, his sideys and his fringe. It looked excellent! For reference, this is a ‘before’ picture:

Flushed with success, I decided that actually cutting hair couldn’t be that difficult. I mean, you don’t need a degree or anything for it and it looks fairly straightforward. Right? Right?!!

Wrong.

I started at his crown and worked round in circles, until I got to his fringe. I turned him round and honestly he looked like he had a crop circle on his head. Panicked, I tried to even out the longer bits by cutting them even shorter until I gave up, burst into tears and put a hat on him to hide my shame until Bob got back from the site shop. When he came back I admitted in horrified tones what I’d done and made it clear that the situation would need to be remedied. And here comes the terrible admission. We went to the office of the site staff and chatted to the English liason chap who had been very helpful when we’d arrived and I said,

“Oh I desperately need your help. You won’t believe what my eldest son has done to his brother with a pair of kitchen scissors.”

Yes. I blamed it on poor, unwitting Findlay. A child who would never DREAM of touching scissors without parental guidance never mind attack his brother’s hair with them. Luckily my tale of woe seemed to strike a cord with the site staff and they lent me a pair of clippers to tidy up the mess…

… except the tale of woe ploughs on. Because you see, I was used to British clippers with British guard measurements on them. I was used to the #2 or #3 guard and so I used the guard marked 2mm, except that since it was a European set 2mm was MUCH SHORTER than a #2 or #3. Regardez!

The moral of the story? NEVER assume that you can do something just because you’ve watched someone else do it and it looked easy. It rarely will be. Thankfully Nairn was more forgiving than my Mother, who refused to display this lovely photo of my children taken on the Somme Bay Railway:

With this saga in mind, I have never since cut the kids’ hair. I was too worried about making a mess of it so they have been treated to the salon experience instead, but I have been trying to get Erica’s hair cut for months and been foiled at every attempt. After visiting Bron yesterday for a playdate I marvelled at Miss Small’s gorgeous hair and Bron told me she cut it herself, reassuring me that, “A bob is very forgiving” and I decided that perhaps I could make one final attempt to salvage my reputation as a demon with scissors. So – ta daaa!

I’m rather proud of myself I have to say! I wonder if this means the boys will let me cut their hair again. Hmmm…

I’m not sure if my feelings have been exacerbated by the news of lots of babies being born to friends old and new. The very fact that new life continues to arrive even while things aren’t so rosy in the world proves that there is always hope and it blooms constantly. A friend of mine has delivered a tiny baby boy at 35 weeks weighing a smidge over 4lb5oz and so I’ve made this little hat to go to him. I hope it fits him only for a short while, before he becomes a monster giant baby with no health worries for him or his enraptured parents.

In other news, Sarah at Dolly Donations has featured me today. I’d love it if you guys could pop over and say hello to her, she’s an inspiration to us all and someone I truly hope to emulate.

Thanks for all your support, you have no idea how much it means to me.

Much love,

Vonnie

If you want to join in you’ll need to acquire this book which costs a tenner (inclusive of delivery) from Amazon with the first project being a skirt. You have until 20th March to finish the skirt and upload pictures to the flickr group.

If you fancy joining in, let me know! But please do also pop over to Amanda’s blog and let her know that you’re intrigued because we all know that comments are a blogger’s desire

For a wee injection of cute I need to share this awesome video of Nairn. Voila!

I know you’ve heard all this before. I know that the media plastered this everywhere for a couple of weeks but Haiti is falling out of favour with the media and we must – must – remember that the operation to find and bury the Haitian dead, to clear the earthquake damage, to create infrastructure and support Haiti’s recovery is going to be an ongoing and long-term effort. I also know that those who have been able to donate to the DEC or other charitable organisations have done so.

But – and there’s always a but – there is still much that we can do and particularly to my crafty friends, I’d like to draw your attention to this one. Sarah is looking for 181 handmade dolls to arrive in the USA by March 31st to be sent to an orphanage in Haiti, so that each child has one toy that they can call their own. One simple thing that could make a world of a difference to these kids who have experienced such horrific trauma in their short lives.

I know you’re busy. We’re all busy, but realistically we have three weeks to finish our dolls and send them over to the USA. Please, please consider giving up your time for this because you have no idea how much it would be appreciated.

Newer readers may not be aware of our home history. In 2006 whilst on maternity leave after having Nairn I became obsessed with looking for a new home after a series of events at our flat including a fire downstairs that trapped us. The very first house we looked at was this one and it was priced very cheaply for the locale – it needed a lot of work done but in my usual spirited manner I convinced Bob that we could totally renovate the house quickly while living in it with the kids. BIG mistake, because as it apparently the trend I fell pregnant with Erica the month we moved in and by 16 weeks I was on bed rest with her. Three years down the line and although we’ve done a lot of work, the only room in the house which has been properly decorated is the living room.

Of course with four children the living room almost always looks like the epicentre of a large earthquake but I am determined to make it more homely with a priority on freshening up the paint. But… But. We have a problem.

Since we moved in, we have regularly marked off the kids’ height* on the back of the living room door. It’s been the place we displayed the artworks sent home from nursery & school. It was where we pinned the sign language crib sheet that we needed to learn so that we could communicate with Nairn and subsequently Erica before they started speaking. It is filthy and really desperately needs cleaned up and repainted but what am I going to do with our markings? What would you do if you were us? If you have a young family and keep track in a similar way, how do you do it?

*Interesting (to me) points: Nairn at 3y11m is two inches taller than Findlay was at 5y10m. Erica at 18m was three inches shorter than Nairn at the same age. Greer at 9m is 1.5 inches taller than Erica was at 11m. I strongly suspect my children as adults in order of height will be Nairn, Findlay, Greer and Erica. All of whom I project to be 6ft+. Based on the premise that a child will have reached half their adult height by the age of three then they’re all going to tower over me!

I can’t believe it. We’ve been joking about it this morning but in all seriousness it barely feels like a month has passed since we first started seeing each other and it’s five years later. It’s funny because I don’t think I really believed in “the one” until Bob came over one night and never left, we’re that sickening couple who are constantly being cutesy with one another and I am proud that I spend every single day of my life with my best friend.

So here’s to the next year and all the others that come after. I love you, honey. Thank you for being my husband.

According to the definition in the Times, the only boxes I didn’t check were: drinks red wine (I think red wine is vile. Actually, I think all wine is vile but I’m trying to train myself to drink white) and carries a large handbag (I don’t. I actually still lug around a massive backpack like the eternal student I crave to be). You wouldn’t believe it to look at me, but I’m pretty clued up on current fashions and styles yet I spend the vast majority of my life looking like I’ve just rolled out of bed – and not in that sexy, tousled Eliza Dushku way. More like a yeti. I do occasionally impulsively do my hair, sometimes I even put makeup on but that behaviour tends to be reserved for special occasions like Christmas.

So what about you? Are you an unmade bed or a pristine pillow?