A very tired Millie has returned to us from Swindon, and we are happy.
Sigh.
She’s also brought a ton of presents that she’s somehow extracted from Nanny and Grampy, too – including (somewhat ominously) a Barbie doll. I think the Lovely Melanie and I were both hoping that we might be able to hold off on that kind of thing until she was a little bit older. But never mind – Millie is still loyal to her Disney Princesses at the moment.
I think I’m a bit nervous about Barbie as I don’t want either of our girls to get sucked into that horrible world of “glamour” and “girlie-ness”. You know, the kind of thing that involves obsessing about “fashion”, jewellery, make-up and other such nonsense. I don’t want them to grow up thinking that “celebrities” like Paris Hilton or some hateful pile of neuroses from Big Brother are great and praiseworthy role models; that “shopping” is somehow a worthwhile activity that will make you a better human being, and that your value as a person is predicated by how pretty you are or who makes your clothes.
I feel quite strongly about that, as you can tell.
But it’s only one Barbie doll, right? Where’s the harm in that? And we’re educated parents who read books and talk to each other and watch the news and value the pursuit of knowledge as inherently good in itself – surely that will help inoculate both of them against the creeping tide of “girlie-ness” and “celebrity” and “glamour”, right?
Right?
This was only going to be a quick piece about Millie’s return, but I think some of my deeper fears about parenting have rather hijacked it. Sorry.
Thank you to my mum and dad for looking after Millie for two days and for all her lovely presents (yes, even the Barbie doll!) – we’ve had a bit of a rest, as well as some quality time with AmberG, and we hope you all had a great time in Swindon: it certainly sounds like you did. 
Millie has another appointment at the hospital this morning, with the eye doctor, to decide once and for all what they’re going to do about her lazy eye, which we suspect will involve surgery, since all previous strategies seem to have made very little difference it.
I’ll let you know what they decide as soon as I hear.
On the plus side, I went to see Fantastic Mr. Fox at the cinema last night (Tuesdays are cheap night at the Peckham Premier!) and was surprisingly impressed. It was a bit of a long-shot choice of film, especially for our regular lads’ night at the cinema which usually involves horror or science fiction films; but Fantastic Mr. Fox was eccentric, funny, whimsical – quite unlike anything else I’ve seen for a very long time without being deliberately “difficult” – and I loved it. 
