F was very pleased to meet her family from abroad. After the first rather suspicious meeting, where she said no a lot and went off to play alone, she was happily sprawled on her Uncle P's knee for an endless repetition of a tickling rhyme.
Dot dot
Line line
Spider crawling up your spine
Tight squeeze
Light breeze
Now you've got the shiveries
New one on me, that. New one on F too. She's just starting to get back into trying new things, after several months of adamant repetition of routines.
We had a big family meal out on Saturday night at a good steak place. F was excited about this until we got there and it turned out that 'eating at a restaurant' translated as 'sitting at a table being boring'. She almost liked the salad bar, because it was arranged a little bit like her favourite pick'n'mix sweet shop. But a lame version, where the broccoli wasn't even gummi. Only swift production of mummy's iPad saved the evening from becoming a tantrum.
And even then, her eyeline gradually emerged from Youtube videos about playdoh as she realised everyone seemed to be having fun without her. By the end of the night, she was running up and down a row of benches with Uncle D at one end, howling with delight. Swedes don't do howling babies in restaurants all that much, they're too reserved. The plaited family at the next table would have looked horrified, except that to display the emotion would have been to admit that something was wrong. So kudos to them.
We went home, put F and the super pregnant and tired V to bed, then I went out to the pub to meet most of the others and watch the cup final. Was it a cup final? I don't know, football isn't really my thing. Arsenal Villa were playing, I think, possibly against United. United Airlines? United Arab Emirates? United Nations? Google hasn't helped me here. Anyway, Fifteen seconds after arriving and greeting the others, my phone went.
V's waters had broken, please could I come home again.
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