Monkeyface took to wanting to spend the day alternating between dancing, reading Who’s in the Forest and crayoning. Or directing others to crayon.
The day was spectacularly festive and crafty: I finally got around to doing something with the spare roll of wallpaper that Monkeyface had plastered with green painted hands, some weeks ago. Taking both of our lives in my hands, Monkeyface was instantly obsessed with the scissors – of course she was – as I cut out the green hand prints to make festive “hand-wreaths.” Well, sort of festive – they would be had I yet progressed to cutting out the red thumbprints we’d made and also sticking them onto the wreaths as “holly berries.”
When we’d finished with the hands, and Monkey face had finished making little piles of them in other rooms other than the room in which I was trying to glue them together, we then coloured in John Lewis colour your own Christmas cards from yesterday’s excursion (well, I, a grown adult, coloured them in whilst she jumped up and down, yielding a crayon I couldn’t prise from her, shouting “DANCE DANCE DANCE!” and I held my breath she wouldn’t trip and garotte herself with a blunt crayola…)
In between, she demanded “read book mummydaddy” and waved “Who’s in the Forest?” about, occasionally clobbering us about the knees with it. Ever since our trip to Hyde Park, she’s been interested in this book once more and the rich tapestry of forgaing animals in it. As a departure from last we read it, she’s counting the animals with me and naming them and excitedly engaged with the many things there are to notice. We’re reading it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and of course, before bed