Swing Low Sweet Amelie

Despite all she is going through with her current eczema condition, Amelie has been in fine fettle of late. We have just come back from a week in the Yorkshire Dales. We stayed at a lovely converted barn in the village of Hebden. It was pleasant, and the Dales are lovely, but each village appeared identical to the next, as if each road that led out of one, led back into itself in some way. They all had a tearoom, a local pub and some stream running through it. I liken it to Mexican food, in that everything is the same but presented differently. Of course, Amelie didn’t care about any of these details. So long as there was a park and a swing, then she was happy enough. To be honest, the whole swing thing has become somewhat of a chore. For a long time Amelie didn’t take to the swings. We would push her lightly and no matter what the speed she appeared disinterested within seconds. Now, we have trouble getting her to leave a swing. As most parents know, there is a playground etiquette established over many years whereby each child must have a fair turn on any given playground attraction. For us, and Amelie, we push this civility to the point where we feel each mother, or father’s eyes boring into our skull as Amelie takes her 1000th swing. This I can live with, if I’m being honest. The glaring is nothing compared to the task of actually getting Amelie off the swing to allow another child on. It is like we are pulling the flesh from her body. She has even developed saying the phrase, “one more”, something we must have repeated so many times now in a bid to end the swinging that she now tries bargaining with us. We must work on this.

So yes, the Dales were lovely. We visited the usual haunts, Skipton, Harrogate, Knaresborough (a trip that can’t pass without a visit to Old Mother Shipton’s Cave and the Petrifying Well), and a few smaller, local villages like Grassington, Appletreewick,and Kettlewell. We even descended underground to Stump Cross Cave. But by far the most memorial point of the holiday was walking along the local stream at night. We arrived on a glorious Saturday evening and as dusk was settling, we made our way over Hebden’s very own suspension bridge. There was something beautiful about that night, the way the light was, and how it enveloped Amelie and my wife. It made them both angelic, and reminded me I am never without beauty by my side.

While there are many smaller details I could add to this entry, I wish only to highlight a couple of moments that really pleased me recently. The first was hearing Amelie laugh unaided by any intervention either I, or Carla, could impart. She was watching one of her Favourite shows, In the Night Garden (her other favs are, Zing Zillas, Something Special (with Mr Tumble), Teletubbies, Mr Maker and (thankfully), Countdown where she can now pronounce at least 10 letters) and the Tombliboos pants fell down. It wasn’t that funny to observe, but Amelie found it hilarious. Just hearing her laugh on her own made Carla laugh and myself. It was lovely. The other thing Amelie has begun to do is dance like a drunken Oliver Reed when he appeared on Aspel in the 1980s. Hopefully this is just a passing phase and as she gets older she’ll develop a degree of rhythm. Either that, or my bad “dancing “genes have been passed down to her.

We’re still none the wiser concerning her current eczema condition. She has been on the
penicillin now for two weeks but the rash and spots are still evident (though not as bad). We have booked a further appointment for her this Thursday. Hopefully the doctor will have another suggestion. Who knows.