Amazing! The new magazine for 7+ readers that teaches the curriculum in a Horrible Histories style! Plus Give-away!

Buffer

 Kids love disgusting! 

"Uuuurrrrrrggghhhhh!!! That's DISGUSTING!" were the first words from Princess Peppa, my 9 year old. (I may need to rethink her blog pseudonym now she's waaay past loving Peppa Pig). "That's COOL!" was the response from Little Miss George, the 7 year old. 

They couldn't be more different, but they both laughed, giggled, and uurrrggghhhed their way through our sample copies of Amazing! Magazine. From how to make your own edible bogie's; Yes; Really. To a guide to Shakespeare's Julius Caesar; (it's not limiting itself this one); the magazine takes a fresh look at information we want our children to learn and presents it in a fun, clever, humorous and yes, quite frankly often disgusting, way. 

It's designed to link to the primary curriculum. Want to know if you'd survive as a Roman gladiator? Find out in the Ancient Romans edition. Want to learn where and when the first false teeth are made? Check out the Human Body edition.

Forgotten how to have fun? How to get your comedy mojo back

I distinctly remember at age 17 telling my parents that I wasn't going to get all boring when I got older. I didn't see why you should stop being silly and having fun just because you were grown up. For me this meant I absolutely planned to own a house with a fireman's pole and a helter-skelter style spiral slide from bedroom to kitchen.

Funnily enough I don't have either in my house now, and I am fast approaching 40.

I watch my 7 and 5 year old daughters running around pretending to be Batman and the Joker, giggling their heads off, and I try and remember the last time I giggled like that. The high pitched hysterical giggle that makes others smile to just hear.

I can't remember.

When the girls were babies I considered myself pretty good at playing the fool enough to get them to laugh. Now it feels like hard work. We are having a tough year as a family, but nothing I should moan about.

So to get my comedy mojo back I am planning on working on my laughter muscles. I have a plan of action. Read on to find out how....

Party funnies!

I just had to share this anecdote from today, before the weight of Princess Peppa's 7th party day finally squishes me into sleepy land.  That sentence makes little sense as I am so extra tired its a miracle I can even type.

It was Princess Peppa's 7th birthday today.  So the day went something like; brace yourself, the anecdote needs context first; this....

Wake up with over-excited newly-turned-7-year-old one inch from face trying to wake me up at 7am.  To be fair we got off lightly there.  It's been 5.30am in previous years. 

Spend next hour enjoying present opening. 

Spend subsequent hour in panic after checking party bags and realising that, despite being an accountant, I can't add up and am 5 bags short if all those that didn't RSVP appear at the party later.  

Send hubby on an emergency shopping trip for extra stickers, sweets and treats.  

Get both children dressed, with beautifully brushed hair.  Realise mother in law has arrived and I am still in dressing gown (why am I always last to get chance to get ready?!)

Out of the mouths of babes: March 2013

It's been a while since we indulged in a spot of giggling at the amazing things our young children say on this blog. It's not that mine haven't been saying all manner of amusing, inappropriate, embarrassing things. It's just that I haven't been organised enough to jot them down.


I feel an extra need to indulge in a spot of giggling at the moment as we are going through some personal family life challenges at the moment that are making life that little bit more emotional, raw and painful. But we are a family bursting with love, and it's for that reason that I know we can get through the challenges together. When it's less raw, and less likely to set me off crying again, I may well share; but until then I undertake the usual human trait of short-term avoidance tactics and instead indulge in the distraction of my daughters' naivety.