My son, the future husband

The children are at an age now where I begin to wonder what sort of adults they'll turn into. Not just what they will do for a living, what they will be like as people. As much as they are learning at school, they are learning values from my husband and myself, our wider family, their friends and their families and so on. I hope I am raising children that will turn into adults whose company will be enjoyed, who will be good friends, and make great life partners.

Something tells me that Monkey is going to be quite a catch and not just because he's a gorgeous boy. (And still blonde at 8, that can't last!).

The other evening, we were travelling home from the gym, and we had the local commercial radio station on in the car. On came an advertisement for FHM's 100 Sexiest Women to which I growled and tutted. Monkey was sat next to me in the front of the car and he asked me what was wrong. I told him the advert annoyed me and so he asked me why.

So, I said to him, "OK then, what is more important - how someone looks, or what sort of person they are?"

Without a second's hesitation, he replied, "What sort of person they are."

I think we're doing a decent job at this parenting lark.

I'll take bids if anyone wants to sign him up as a future husband for their daughters... he's not bothered about girls at the moment, it will definitely have to be for later.

Is this the quiet period of childhood?

Butter wouldn't melt, eh?

Not *actually* quiet, you know. My children are still as noisy as anything given the chance.

It just feels that there is not a massive amount happening. The children are growing. They have done the learning to walk, talk, read and count. I'm not bragging when I say they are doing well at school; it's simple fact as they are both ahead of where is expected of them where they are in school. I am lucky in that they don't seem to have any major issues at school.

Behaviourwise, we don't have major issues. We still struggle with them to understand that in the morning they have certain jobs that must be done because although they do them most days, some days they do not seem to realise they are meant to get dressed. I don't think they are that different to other children their own age. Monkey is still prone to the odd meltdown which mostly seems associated with tiredness. If he would only sleep in later, especially at weekends!

When he was first in school, Monkey was much much worse than this. He's definitely calmed down in recent months. No, he is not perfect, but on the whole, he's very good and loving towards us - well, at least, at home. In public, he doesn't want to be seen hugging me in the way that boys of his age only can but almost the first thing he does when he comes home from school is come and give me a hug. If they are looked after by anyone else, I always get good reports back.

All this, however, makes me feel like I'm being lulled into a false sense of security. Looking ahead, I fear the teens and what it will do to them, especially Missy Woo who is the sweetest thing ever. I know that things will change, I just wonder how far away that might be.

This feels like the quiet period of childhood - am I right? Is that how it is for this age group? When might things change?

Or am I just lucky and should just count my blessings more?

What say you?

Three days

Three days. That's all it took.

I took Monkey and Missy Woo to school this morning. We parked at the pub nearby and walked down a path that is a cut-through to school. The weather was nice, the children like to walk and it's lovely walking through the trees. We crossed the bridge over the brook, with a minor skirmish due to the presence of a big but friendly dog, and entered the school grounds by the back gate.

My shy and retiring little girl

As we walked through the gate, Missy Woo let go of my hand, turned to me and said, "Let me go in by myself, Mummy. Don't come in!". I started to walk further into the playground but she started to run, so I stopped and let her go. I watched through the trees as she ran then slowed to a walk, first with her brother, who left her and disappeared through the infants door. She stopped for a few seconds and looked around, momentarily disorientated by children and parents walking in different directions, but never once back at me. I wondered if I should go to her and called her name but she didn't hear me. She regained her bearings, catching sight of a boy walking towards the reception classroom with his mother, and started to run towards them. She ran into the play area at speed without a backwards glance to me, and in through the door. I turned, and walked back out through the school gate, feeling somehow redundant but also proud of my confident, independent little girl.

Three days. That's all it took. She stopped being a baby sometime ago, but she's a real schoolgirl now. I think that it's beginning to sink in. To me, that is, not her. She is growing up so fast.

Three days. Bloody hell!