Chores …

As you know, love doesn’t count chromosomes – and neither does housework! He may be our special little guy, and only seven, but Freddie still has to muck in on the domestic front; and it may be the weekend, but the lessons don’t stop.
 
First it was baking class with big sister including, most importantly, how to wash up afterwards. Despite getting excluded from the kitchen twice for throwing flour, under Lucy’s rough and ready tutelage he eventually achieved a batch of delicious, squidgey chocolate brownies (in typical Fender bish-bash-bosh fashion).

     Then there was the aftermath of dinner to be dealt with:

 
     All the carnage of a food fight, with none of the fun.

     Then it was time to go on pants patrol, and help to put away the clean laundry.

  
Fancy carrying mummy’s bras like that, Freddie!

     Poor boy – he’ll be glad to go to school tomorrow … for a rest.

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6 Towns Radio

It was fun, as ever, to spend two hours in the studio with the lovely, lovely Carol Lovatt, on the Carol in the Community show this morning, on 6 Towns Radio. We did squeeze in a bit about Workd Down’s Syndrome Day (21st March) and the ‘Lots of Socks’ campaign, but far and away my favourite bit was talking about World Book Day, with local illustrator and author Kate Leake (www.planetpencil.co.uk), who has written some fab children’s books and illustrated many more. Freddie loves books and stories as much as the next child, more than some; and his reading is coming on a treat. I bought him his first ‘Horrid Henry’ book last night: an early readers’ one, admittedly, but it’s still more grown-up than previous books. I wish I could capture on camera the look of bashful pride on Freddie’s face when I say to him: ‘Excellent reading – you’re getting to be such a good reader”. And of course, people with Down’s Syndrome don’t just read, they write too. Check out this link to an article about a man called Marcus Sikora, who has had his book published: https://www.facebook.com/DownSyndromeOnTheMighty/posts/543518625808014

A Lovely Surprise …

As a blogger you have to work with the knowledge that there are individuals out there who will respond to you in ways deliberately calculated to be hurtful or offensive. But, I’m happy to report, there is a flip side to this. For every troll, there is a ‘Fairy Godmother’ of the Internet. I know because I have just experienced one.

A package was waiting for Daddy when he arrived at work this morning. There is no indication who sent it, but inside was this letter: 

 
and these books:

  
As you can see, he got stuck in straight away! What a lovely, lovely, kind, thoughtful, generous gesture. We were very touched. It made our day, our week.

Freddie loves dinosaurs as much as dragons, and animals of all kinds, so these books are right up his street.

So, I’d like to say a very big ‘THANK YOU’ to our anonymous ‘Fairy Godmother’ (or Godfather).

To us this act of kindness means so much more than just new books for Freddie.

Daddy doesn’t often comment on the posts and pictures I share on the blog, Twitter and Facebook, but here’s what he posted himself, after I shared a video of last night’s bedtime story. I thought it would be nice to have Daddy’s view of things for a change:

“This is my little boy Alfie reading a story to his big sister and mummy. The story is called “owl babies”and it is one of his favourites. Alfie has learnt to read because we read to him every night and we are very proud of his excellent reading!”
   
 Although being read to every night can only take part of the credit for his learning to read, it has certainly helped him to develop a love of books and stories, which has helped to make him eager to learn, and to practise his new skill.

Someone’s Been Eating Daddy Bear’s Porridge (again) …

Once upon a time Freddie came downstairs to find Daddy’s porridge unattended (again), so he sat himself down in Daddy’s chair and helped himself to a little taste.  But instead of eating it all up, he quickly dropped the spoon back in the bowl, then slid off the chair and went and knocked on the toilet door (where he knew Daddy would be). Without waiting for an answer he barged in and said:

‘Excuse me, porridge too hot!’