Painting with Pesto...

You just know what I'm going to write don't you? The title's a bit of a giveaway....

When James started nursery in September I remember feeling the tinge of sadness that most mummies feel on the first day they send their child to school or nursery. Except mine was tinged with a lot of worries and concerns that most mummies don't have to contend with - how will they get him to sit down, who will understand him when he does speak, will he let his keyworker change his nappy, how many changes of clothes should I send him with. This last question still challenges me - I find that however many items I send him in with, he comes home with the same number of dirty items. My washing basket is constantly overflowing - at this rate we'll need a new machine before this one reaches statutory school age.... My feelings of sadness were also mixed with guilt - no matter how much time I'm able to give James, it's always going to be combined with the pressures of running a household and looking after both him and his sister. In the months before he started nursery I felt I was unable to give him the amount of time he needed - he needs constant one to one attention during his waking hours and this is exhausting at the best of times. Add in a demanding 14 month old and I honestly felt I needed to clone myself. It was a rare occasion that I could get him interested in anything I was doing - he would rather jump on the trampoline or run up and down the garden than participate in any organised (and I use that term loosely) activity. I would try and get him interested in painting or colouring to no avail. When I brought home his first painting from nursery I sat in the car and cried my eyes out - I felt that it ought to be me who was spending time painting with him and that it was another thing to show me how neglectful I had become. Yes, I'm very good at self flagellation as I'm sure you'll notice as you get to know me....

Over the last 4 months James has shown more and more interest in creative activities - for the first time ever we have a wall of his beautiful and precious art work. OK, so the standard is about the same level as Bea's but it's the fact it exists that matters, not the quality. At a friend's house today the toddlers were playing with an Aquadraw painting mat (a genius invention if ever one existed - it uses water so your walls are safe!) and James picked up a brush and proceded to produce some pretty determined brush strokes. I tried to paint his feet but he dissolved into a fit of giggles when the brush went near his toes so we turned that into a game instead.

This creative bug has got some drawbacks, however, and we had another of our "incedents" this evening. I had left the jar of pesto next to the hob after I made the children their supper. After supper Bea wanted to watch her favourite programme, In the Night Garden, so I went to the playroom and turned on the television for her. I thought James had followed us but then realised he was rather quiet - I don't need to tell you the rest do I? Thankfully my husband got home a few moments later and after a bath and a mop you wouldn't know anything had happened....