Balloon games

We have been playing with balloons a bit before bedtime the last few nights. We try to keep them in the air with only one part of our bodies: head, foot, hands. Tonight, Mpants says: “Look Mummy. I am using my nose.” And he bounces the balloon off his nose. He continues: “Then I do a little dance.” And he wiggles his butt and flaps his arms like a chicken.

Bounce. Wiggle. Flap. Bounce. Wiggle. Flap. All around the living room.

We laugh our heads off.

Happiness is…

Taking a random tram ride to the outskirts of Bern, serendipitously finding a playground, climbing in a huge swing with the boys, looking up at the sky as the sun pokes through the clouds.

Jman shouting: “Higher! Higher!” as I pump my legs awkwardly while lying on my back. 

Mpants squirms onto my belly and gives me a kiss: “Me love you Mommy!”

“Me love you too.” And I kiss the tops of each of their heads. We lay back in the swing and watch the clouds.

Who is your person?

One night I was talking to Jman before he went to sleep. I was telling him how his brother is really important. And how he is (or will be) his best friend and they will have a lot of great adventures together. And they will need to support each other and confide in one another. And look out for one another.

I said: “He will be your person.”

And Johnny digested that for a moment and replied: “He already is my person. He is my assistant!”


The moment you realize you are of a different generation

We are driving home in the afternoon. “What would you like for goûter? (snack time)?”

“Cookies!!” Mpants exclaims right off the bat.

“Chocolate eggs!” Exclaims Jman (on a chocolate high from Easter).

“Raspberry purée?” I offer as a solution.

Something between the two demands.

Exactly like their mother, they looooovvvveee all things raspberry. I have been hiding these small pots of raspberry sauce (you sauce, but with raspberries). I planned to eat them surreptitiously… Myself. But, I hadn’t shopped for quite a few days and was out of alternatives.

“Yayaaaaay! Raspberry purée!” They shout. Excited at the thought.

And I start singing: “Raspberry purée”… To the tune of Prince’s “Raspberry Beret”. And the boys are singing it with me:

“Rasp-berry purée!” We sing at the top of our lungs.

“Rasp-berry purée!”

Me: “Haha. Let’s find that song on the Youtube and play it on the radio. You’ll love it!” Thinking that I can stream it to the sound system in the car when I do find it.

Jman: “What’s a radio?”