Love Bites

The blog may have gone a little silent – which I forewarned – but in the frenetic rush to meet deadlines and keep a little person fed and watered, I’ve allowed the writing about reading to slip if not the actual reading itself, for the sake of sanity and one less thing to obsess about doing badly.
In the small hours we have available together, we have been chalking letters, reading Spot goes to school on the iPad and generally doing literacy activities where we can. Not every day gives us the opportunity to read a story, but the important thing is that someone is: her Childminder, her grandmother, her dad.
Last night I scuttled in at some ungodly hour to disrupt her intermittent listening to Crazy Hair. She had been far more interested in the flotsam and jetsam of our peripatetic lives, but daddy gamely struggled on. Eventually, Crazy Hair was discarded for the game of let’s find the most dangerous or valuable item to be left lying around and reward mummy’s every attempt to wrest it from her with painful, purple love-bites.
Normal service is resumed.


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