Short interlude
Aug. 11th, 2010 03:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minavoxHolidays are brilliant, but what I really miss is daycare for at least one of the children... clearly I'm not made to have them around me 24/7 for any prolonged period.
15 minutes ago the Grouch took the lovely offspring and disappeared into the woods (which start 2 minutes by foot from our door). Roughly five minutes later a doe broke out of the woods, running at full speed. No idea what they are doing there.
In other news, Precious wants to eat noodles all the time even when there are no on the menu (i.e. at the mountain resort at 2.200 m), Mr Jones has decided holidays with no access to a kitchen are the right time to resolutely refuse everything remotely reminding -and I didn't even try for becoming queen of alliteration! - baby cereals or mash or whatever the slimy gunk is called in English. Grrr. We schlepped all kinds of it 2.200 m high, only to find us begging the cook for things like a single cooked potatoe without any dressing. In addition, Mr Jones decided solid foods by day are best accompanied by bottles of milk at night. Lots of bottles. Consumed in intervalls no longer than three hours. *sigh* No, letting him cry is no option in a smallish hut packed to the roof with people (who intend to get up at 5:30 a.m. sharp to climb the local peak).
But still: brilliant thing, holidays....
15 minutes ago the Grouch took the lovely offspring and disappeared into the woods (which start 2 minutes by foot from our door). Roughly five minutes later a doe broke out of the woods, running at full speed. No idea what they are doing there.
In other news, Precious wants to eat noodles all the time even when there are no on the menu (i.e. at the mountain resort at 2.200 m), Mr Jones has decided holidays with no access to a kitchen are the right time to resolutely refuse everything remotely reminding -and I didn't even try for becoming queen of alliteration! - baby cereals or mash or whatever the slimy gunk is called in English. Grrr. We schlepped all kinds of it 2.200 m high, only to find us begging the cook for things like a single cooked potatoe without any dressing. In addition, Mr Jones decided solid foods by day are best accompanied by bottles of milk at night. Lots of bottles. Consumed in intervalls no longer than three hours. *sigh* No, letting him cry is no option in a smallish hut packed to the roof with people (who intend to get up at 5:30 a.m. sharp to climb the local peak).
But still: brilliant thing, holidays....
