A week without wheels and Hedgehog’s birthday

So since losing the old Peugeot we’ve been without wheels for nearly two weeks. Do these garage guys have any idea what it is like to spend two weeks in a small village with Mole and Hedgehog for company? I doubt it. I bet they would have the car ready pretty fecking swiftly if they knew.

Can Mole, Hedgehog and I survive?. Of course we can, but it doesn’t help that the wine has just run out. We’ve been doing the usual grocery orders online and Mr M&H is walking to work via the fields, which he’s been doing ever since the Spring arrived anyway. This morning I persuaded him to take an umbrella, which I’m glad of judging by the avalanche of water that’s just come down outside.

Last week to be honest was tough. This morning Mole stated that she is officially missing playgroup. Last night she flopped back onto a chair and in drama queen style declared “I’m sooo bored”. I spend my life keeping her occupied and she has the nerve to say she’s bored?! This is my worst fear realised.

The pace of life slows down when it is contained in a small village. There are less options and therefore less to worry about. We walk to the swings. We walk up the hill to fly the kite. We have picnics on the green behind the village hall. We visit the horses, lamas and sheep. We play in the garden. We pick wild cow parsley and lilac to decorate the house. We paint the garden bench (and each other).

While Mole and Hedgehog sleep I have a manic bout of de-cluttering and re-arranging the house. The toy cupboard is first up. The annoying plastic toys with loose fiddly bits that require tidying a million times and batteries that run down go in the recycle bin, oops!. It was pretty liberating I can tell you. Mole hasn’t noticed yet. Another bag of surplus tops goes in the clothes and shoes bank next to the pub. A third bag of surplus wooden and soft toys are kept for ‘toddler friend birthday presents’. This should see us through the next three years worth of presents. The toys remaining are more visible now, they are even categorised. We have a music box, a dressing up box, a soft toys box, a hard toys box, four book boxes, a train set box, a jigsaw puzzle box and a baby toys / Hedgehog’s box. It is spectacular.

Hedgehog prefers the contents of the kitchen cupboards, climbing the stairs, or scattering the CD’s off the CD rack a million times a day. I don’t know why I bother.

All in all the home life is okay, but by Wednesday, Hedgehog is teething and won’t be put down and Mole is whiney because Hedgehog won’t be put down. I make an SOS call to granny, who comes to fetch us, so we can spend time in her garden instead. It has a stream and a greenhouse, which is a novelty for Mole and keeps her occupied all day, in a way that apparently a trampoline and a water hose in our garden does not. I give Mole some ‘nappy free time’, in a vain hope to get her kick started into potty training. At one point while watering the plants she wees, stops to watch it and then carries on with her watering can. Not quite ready for potty training yet then. It’s lovely to have a naked toddler running round in the sunshine anyway. Hedgehog lays under the shade umbrella and gets a suntan. She also discovers the piano and her reflection in the mirror, which she loves so much that she spends ten minutes kissing it. Most importantly, granny has wine.

On our return home, Mr M&H has been unwell with the man flu. This week the rest of us have it, but either it’s not the same strain or he was making an enormous fuss. The following day it is Hedgehog’s birthday. I make a panicked late night order for prosecco delivery and end up buying six bottles on special offer. We’ve got plenty of bubbly for the rest of the year anyway. This is something I don’t share with Mr M&H as he is already snoring and would disapprove.

In the morning we have eggs florentine with bucks fizz. Mole and Hedgehog get milk, but they are skilled at investigating any drinks which they know are not for them. Hedgehog opens her two presents (we didn’t advertise her birthday / I couldn’t face organising a big party that she wouldn’t remember / second baby syndrome) and Mole promptly steals them. After this, Hedgehog takes a two hour prosecco induced nap, while Mole and I watch ‘The Lion King’ together. It is even better than I remember it. Is it sad when you start getting excited by Disney films? Nah, of course not. Disney films are the best.

We planned to have a picnic lunch in the park, but the weather is not cooperating. So we have it indoors instead. Mole stares at all the cheese, fruit and duck spring rolls, but all she cares about is ice cream. She is a bit more interested in Hedgehog’s birthday cake, especially when she finds out there is chocolate and banana in it. Hedgehog is midway through her strawberries and cream when we present her with this cake, covered in burning candles. I foolishly think there is an outside chance she might actually blow them, but no, she puts one out with her hand instead. While I quell the screams and run her hand under the cold tap, Mole blows out the candles on Hedgehog’s behalf.

By late afternoon the sun comes out, so Mole and Hedgehog play with the neighbouring children in our road. Mole charges up and down on her trike, being pushed along by one or other of the boys next door. Hedgehog crawls around in the dirt like a street urchin, happy as anything. I decide the best policy is to cover her with sun lotion and look the other way.

Since the sun is out, we have a picnic dinner in the park instead, finishing off the remains of lunch. Mole flies the kite and Hedgehog covers her face in a mixture of guacamole dip and crushed bread stick. We visit the horses, lamas and sheep, before going home for bath and bed. Hedgehog lights up with a beaming grin the minute we put her in the tub. She loves a bath. The fact she shares it with Mole means that she has to put up with being squashed or have bath books snatched off her. That’s sisterly love for you. She snuggles down into her usual angelic pose in the cot, one hand by her cheek, the other sucking her thumb. Hedgehog’s first birthday is perfect, just like her.

Today it is raining, and looks quite committed about it. So far Mole has been tottering around in my pink stiletto heels that I haven’t worn since before she and Hedgehog existed. They go with her pink Peppa Pig top. She hasn’t even noticed the beautifully organised toy cupboard. This means Hedgehog has finally got a look in with her birthday presents. We’ve had extended cuddles on the sofa, with Mole and Hedgehog each competing to be closest to my face. It’s a little bit like Gulliver being crawled over by the Lilliputians. In a minute I’ll do dinner in the slow cooker.

It is another three days until we get the Hyundai, not that I’m counting, but I am strangely content in the village. Playgroups, who needs them.