Nutty Tales

Snickers.

One teeny, tiny, individually wrapped snickers.

For breakfast.

It all began here:

Frank and I popped out last night to visit a friend and got back in time for a light snack and a little colouring before bed.

We had just taken ourselves upstairs when someone knocked at the door and we opened it to find Santa there with some other people collecting for local charities.

Behind him was a big sleigh, all lit up and playing music.

Frank was wide-eyed and when asked what he wanted for Christmas didn't know what to say.

He's four.

He doesn't get those conversations yet.

I am holding out as long as possible with the consumerism.

We told Santa we'd like Sev to come for Christmas and that would be a great gift for us and he said he'd do his best to make sure it happened.

He then, yes, Santa, that lovely, good and kind old man, passed my diabetic boy a box full of mini chocolates, Snickers included.

Frank took one and I did what every D-parent does, which is run through the list of a gazillion options for reacting.

Not just a "Thank you , Santa" for us, oh, no. We get the "how many carbs, no label, guesstimate it then, tell him we can't have it, no that would be pointless and awful for Frank, he really can't have it now, maybe in the morning, at least he chose the Snickers with the shadow of a nut and thus protein in it blah blah blah".

And all the while I must be, just must be, standing at the door with Santa wondering who this glazed and distant woman is and whether she's on illegal substances.

Because I know my brain is not in small-talk-with-Santa-mode when I am doing this.

In all honesty, I don't think my brain has a small-talk-with-Santa mode.

So, this morning Frank woke up and ran downstairs to see what was in his little sock for today. He finds a zoo ticket and a mini snickers (it's half the size of my thumb).

I tell him he can have it with his breakfast and that he can only nibble the end before I test his BG.

And the angels sang and the frazzled Mama smiled.

He was at 4.0!!!!

Wooo bloody hoooo!

And the boy ate it in tiny pieces and even offered me a nibble of the corner.

We then had our usual porridge and agave nectar and I asked him what it was like seeing Santa outside the door last night.

He ponders how to break it to me.

"I think it was a man in a suit" he says, "not the real Santa" and goes back to eating his porridge and talking about poo.

Normal service is resumed.

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Another quick and satisfying project left the needles yesterday evening as I completed Frank's Christmas Pyjamas. The light here in Northern Europe, so close to the Winter solstice, is minimal and so the pictures look very gloomy.

I hope you can all squint a bit and maybe turn your heads sideways a tad to get an idea of how cute they really are.

I had been looking for cotton flannel material but couldn't find any that wasn't hugely "girlie" and so plumped for this Sqiurrel Nutkin cotton in green. I made the trousers by tracing around a pair that fit Frank loosely at the moment and bought a white cotton t-shirt so all I had to do there was add the star.

The hardest part of this project was finding a PLAIN WHITE COTTON T-shirt with NOTHING AT ALL on it.

Is it the same where you all are?

Everything seems to have awful slogans or the word "vintage" on it when it was made last week.

And here is a close up of Nutkin himself doing a bit of, well, I think he's "prancing"!

More sewing updates soon as I am making great progress with husband's manly apron.

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And finally, a big thanks for yesterday and being my musketeers after the hit and run commenter.
All for one and one for all, hey?!