Getting things done

[ailbhe]

I ordered some composting aids - Bokashi bran, some moisture mats for the wormery, fancypants dust to help with the wormery's acidity and wetness problem. I got the children dressed and the dishwasher on. I arranged a Slingmeet at the Moondogs Art Cafe (Youtube - irritating music but lovely cafe) and went there for coffee to make sure they knew about it and to test-drive the cake; Linnea and Emer shared a slice and couldn't finish it and I had my own slice and couldn't finish it. Then I brought the children to town and we

went

shoe

shopping.

Oh, my soul, sucked out through the soles of my feet in wormy, squishy, irritating slivers. In the end, Emer has servicable open-toed sandals and Linnea has really rather nice T-strap closed-toed sandals, but it's so difficult, and I always feel so unreasonable when I say I want something smart and sturdy and comfortable and easy to clean and not too pink. Both children are at least actual existing sizes now, and not off any of the scales, but truly, trimming children's shoes in suede and glitter is asking for trouble.

"But they won't get muddy, the trim is at the top!" I was told. I almost resorted to asking what the shoes would look like after they'd had milk and mud poured on them. Or urine. Potty-training children get urine on their shoes. It doesn't come out of suede trim. And the boys' shoes we were shown would all look terrible in any Smart Shoes situation - even the ones which aren't trainers look like them.

Still, at least school-sized feet have more options; after a big hooha over Emer's shoes I was able to approve wholeheartedly the selection made for Linnea.

The woman who used to fit Linnea's shoes (here and here) back when it was really, really hard because she had really, really unusual feet - she was there, and she remembered us with apparent pleasure, and said WOW haven't they got BIG, so that was nice.

I never did start shoe-shopping in London, but I found that having staff who knew my child's feet and understood the fitting issues was good enough. They believe in customer service there.

I just usually try to buy shoes during term-time school hours; doing it when people are getting whole families kitted out in school shoes isn't a good idea.

After shoe shopping we went to the deli for lunch and then to the bank to lodge some Euros. Then we went to Altimus and discovered flatpack tableware for camping, which looks fabulous but I intend to investigate further before investing. The good news is that they recycle all the production waste - presumably into more tableware - and the product and packaging are recyclable if they do eventually die. Camping for us is all about space, because we don't use a car, so we carry everything. These look marvellous. They're small enough that I could habitually carry a set in my bag, along with a spare nappy and my tiny rainwear etc etc, though I was thinking of downsizing my bag recently; we shall have to see.

Then a hideous interlude in a crowded shopping centre's staff toilets down utility corridors, because the customer toilets are being refitted. Linnea went home in wet shorts and tshirt and no underwear, with a bruised bum because the undressing-dance and my short temper and lack of patience overbalanced us in a tiny cubicle.

Home, Linnea into the bath, Emer in front of the telly, and shortly afterwards Rob came home and made me two cups of tea. I think the children have already recovered.

I do need to sort out all the outgrown shoes and work out what's getting donated to good causes and what's getting saved to grow into. But not tonight, Josephine.

Comments

[richtermom.livejournal.com]

The cool thing over here is to build "family bathrooms" which means there's a large single room where you could bring in your kids of whatever gender and not have them either try scrambling under the stalls at other patrons nor deal with inter-gender issues with grown up bathrooms. Unfortunately, the university we visited last night didn't have this accommodation, so we took over the handicapped stall, and when it was my turn I realized that I "needed privacy" for a few minutes and had K counting squares of tile for quite a few situations (how many tiles tall is the wall? How many tiles between red squares? how many blue squares can you find?) And I tried minimizing the probability of publicly visible staining. Whee. If I were knocked up, I wouldn't be menstruating.

[ailbhe]

John Lewis have family cubicles in the Parents' Room; there's a babychange counter with multiple mats and sinks; two seating areas, one curtained off for breast-related modesty; a drinking fountain' a nappy vending machine; two cubicles each containing two toilets and two sinks, at adult and child height. They also have roller towels, so no paper waste or loud electronic drying.

We weren't in John Lewis. We were in the Broad Street Mall, whose customer toilets were closed for refurbishment, so we were directed down the utility corridors to the staff toilets.

Linnea still has a little bruise on her bottom.