Alrighty, Mr Bedighty (as I often say to Tiny in a motivating let's-get-your-shoes-on kind of a way), here goes. I'm easing in gently for the first post. Most thankfully, Halloween precedes NaBloPoMo and provides plenty of easy fodder and photo opportunities for the hapless blogger. A case in point.
Continuing in what has now become a hallowed tradition in our household, I once again wrestled Tiny into a handmade Halloween costume. This time he went as Robin Hood. Well, a pacifist Robin Hood. Given that his father is a Social Justice and Peace Studies kind of a guy and his mother is a Radical Feminist there was some necessary massaging of the story to do away with the weaponry and to emphasise the Aiding of the Poor.
As any good mother would in the lead up to a big day, I explained at length about Halloween and the subtle though necessary changes to the Robin Hood legend. At his clear "Ya." I knew we were on the same page, but I was most reassured when randomly, in the middle of other, more complex, toddler thoughts, he would cry, "Wobin Hoooooood. WObin HOOOOooooood!!!" I just knew we were of one mind, him and I.
Of course, it all fell into place on the night. It was obvious that he had internalised my
Alas, when it came to the distribution of said riches, it would seem we still have some work to do. It was very clear who would be the beneficiaries.
Toddler steps, as they say.