On Thursday I picked H up from the childminders, and was told there was “quite a lot to take home” – her PE bag (they keep it at school until end of term), her book bag, and ah. The class frog, Swimmy.

A photo posted by Jo Brooks (@mumfriendlyjo) on

H was delighted – ecstatic – so proud of herself. My heart sunk.

This was for my own selfish reasons – you see, her class keep the mascot for a week, so that means we have Swimmy for TWO weeks as it’s half term.

This does mean he’ll get to do her after school activities the week after next, fortunately – especially as they all stop for half term. The temptation to put him on the examination table and have the Osteo check him while I take a photo is pretty high right now.

We’ve had him doing a few things, playing Jenga, sliding down a fireman’s pole at the park, eating pizza with H, so it’s all very nice, normal, ordinary stuff. He tried a few bits at the Farmer’s Market yesterday too, or at least that’s what H said. I think she probably had it herself…

Swimmy appears to be non-machine washable. Oh, and also pretty difficult to replace, should we lose him. So far H has only completely forgotten about him three times, though fortunately Shaun and I have been around and have popped him in our pocket or hood, then reminded H. See, she loves having him, but her caring, sharing nature goes out of the window when there’s other things to do. He’s soon forgotten – a fleeting part of our everyday life for a fortnight, to be forgotten again – her turn in the class done with and logged, photographed and documented. He’s looking grubbier by the day, carelessly dropped on the floor yet again.

But H is proud too – she was given Swimmy as her teacher said H was the only child she didn’t have to tell to be quiet (funny that, she’s nothing like it at home!) – for the whole half of term. Lawks.

At least things will be easier in Year 1 than reception – all we have to do is get the photos in a collage and print them out – H can write well now, so she can do the rest. Oh, and for all of next week H is at holiday club, so there’s no fancy trips out to show off with – well, there will be with holiday club but there’s no way he’s going too – as if she loses him we’d never get him back!

So yes, two weeks of liveblogging in a diary H’s life with a stuffed animal. Wish us luck. We’re three days in and so far, so good.