scenes : in pink and red
And so the week ends, with streams of afternoon sun turning little cheeks all red and rosy. Poet returned to dance classes this week – jazz and ballet this year – and I’m amazed what a difference six months make. She remembered everything she learned in class on Wednesday afternoon and has been dancing since (much to the dismay of elderly folk at the shops today). Spritely is one way to describe her movements, hence she’s not one to walk obediently beside the pram as we weave in and out of shoppers. It can get tense.
This weekend is a little weighed down with work but there’s the possibility of an early Saturday night movie at home, plenty of time reading (this!) in a light-filled loungeroom and perhaps a bit of chicken soup (after tonight’s roast) to keep the bugs at bay (because every second person is down with a cold, it seems). I’ll also be preparing Che for his first overnight camp trip with school. He’s never stayed with anyone but grandparents before and I’m quietly fretting. It feels like a parenthood milestone except its one I’m not too keen to tick off the list.
/ her favourite dress from @sweetjanepetite and they’re currently giving away a gift voucher to spend on the autumn/winter collection
/ ballet outfit complete with a pink wrap cardigan that mama knitted and a pretty minouche tutu
/ it’s been a while since we’ve had rain but on Thursday morning we played outside as it sprinkled.
Have a lovely one, friends.