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Guest Post Day – A Lesson with Miss M

Today is guest post day and I have swapped with the very nice (and very talented) Jo Beaufoix.  I’m sure she will take very good care of you so off I pop…..

Hello Magic Mummy’s lovely readers. Today myself and the fabulous Cass have swapped blogs, so she is writing over at Chez Beaufoix, and I’m attempting to fill her shoes here.

It’s funny how nervous we all seem to be posting on another person’s blog. I suppose it’s because we’re all kind of comfortable in our own space. We know the rules, how everything works and, well, what’s expected.

It’s a bit like babysitting. You’re in someone else’s home, a guest, a caretaker. You’re not exactly sure where the tea or coffee is, whether it’s really ok to ‘help yourself’, and there’s also this voice in your head whispering fretfully at you ‘don’t break anything, don’t break anything.’

And it got me wondering.
When is it that we learn to worry so much about what other people think?
At what stage do we lose that childlike ability to see a blank page and a few pots of brightly coloured paint and go from there to enthusiastic, unbridled, gleeful creation in a matter of moments?

At what point do we begin to think about what might be expected, wanted or allowed?

Well, after intense research, a little pondering, and a moment with my youngest child the delightful Miss M, I have an answer for you…

We’re eating dinner. Myself, Miss E (9) and Miss M (just 5). There is general chit chat amidst the slurping of spaghetti and the clink of cutlery. Then, there is the sound of a humungous great big belch.

It is the kind of loud windy emission that you would expect from a grown man, two grown men, a giant even, and yet it has been expelled from the body of my tiny girl who is cackling with laughter, her hands over her mouth, the biggest grin crinkling her nose and lighting her grey brown eyes.

Me: “M, what do you need to say?”

Miss M: “Hee hee hee pardon my burp, hee hee hee.”

I look at her ‘not at all sorry and in fact slightly proud’ little face, and attempt to hide a smile behind my exaggerated frown.

Me: “I hope you don’t do that at school M. It’s very rude.”

Miss M: “Oh no, my burp knows not to do that at school. And my bottom knows not to do trumping Mummy.”

I bite my lip, look down at my food and nod soberly, though my shoulders are shaking.

Me: “Good. That’s very good M. Maybe you could learn not to do it at the dinner table at home too?”

Then my eyes meet Miss E’s and our giggles join the nasty nipper’s, but at least I have an answer.

The age at which we learn to worry about what other people think, what they expect, what they allow, is 5.

The age that we learnt to worry about what the people who love us think, expect and allow, is kind of an ongoing experiment

So lovely Magic Mummy, because I am a guest on your blog I promise I will not pass wind, put my feet up on your table, or nab all your chocolate biccies.

I’ll leave that for when I know you a little better. ;D

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