A Rose by Any Other Name

Most nights, as we are both settling in to bed for the night, Saffron, licking her coe-woe, lapses into her thoughful trance. With her eyes still wide open, she's physically there, snuggled up next to me, but her thoughts are miles away. Very often the most obscure memories are recalled and sometimes if I'm lucky enough, she shares them with me.

Last night, she broke the pensive (her), drowsy (me; on flu medication) silence with a "Mummy? Why did you name me Saffron and not Cinderella?". Even in my drugged-out stupor, I could tell she was dead serious. So I muttered something about Saffron being easier to call out, being 2 syllables shorter than Cinderella; how she looks more like a Saffron than a Cinderella (I don't think she took very well to this point); Daddy and I don't really like the name Cinderella, we far prefer Sleeping Beauty, as a matter of fact; and most important of all, now that she's about to start Reception Year in September, Saffron is much easier to spell and write than Cinderella.

Just as I was about to fall smugly back into my pillow, thinking I had fielded the question quite well, all things considered, Saffron declared, "I am going to change my name to Saffron Cinderella. Call me Saffron Cinderella, Mummy."

This is what happens to naughty girls

Most of you will know by now that we subscribe to the Naughty Step Principle and Chocolate Forcefeeding Method when it comes to keeping Saffron in check. Another lesser known trick we have up our sleeve is to point out to her signs which imply that misbehaviour may well lead to her transformation into confectionery. Yet another unexpected advantage in naming your child after a flower/food ingredient. Even if she - quite possibly - has to put up with being nicknamed 'Spice Girl' for the rest of her school-going life.

Since we're on the subject of names...we had picked out Saffron's name well before she was born, but the moment we laid eyes on her, we realised that she looked more like a Lucy (her second name). Still, we had gotten so used to calling her Saffron that it seemed a little odd to change. That and the small niggling detail that her birth announcement cards had already been printed. Four years on and I still think she looks like 'a Lucy' but can't imagine her by any other name than Saffron.

Time and Tide (and Fishballs) Wait for No Man

27 July 2006 With not a moment to lose, Saffron gets down to business at Newton Hawker Centre within an hour of arriving.



Reunited with her beloved Fishball Noodles (and loving family of course), she gives the thumbs up. All is well with the world.

Platters of delicious local cuisine nonchalantly scattered around the tables to deflect from the fact that it's actually all for Mummy.

Beef, Chicken or Armadillo?

26 July 2006 Flying back to Singapore for a summer break, Saffron braved the 13 hour flight with much aplomb, aside from a couple of episodes involving airsick bags. To this day she still recalls how she was ill on the flight and has an aversion to plane food (so who doesn't).

Saffron's farewell party at Heathrow

In response to the flight attendant's robotic "Beef or Vermicelli?" when supper was served, Saffron, without missing a beat, replied "Armadillo". At which point we both turned to each other and burst out laughing, she having realised her confusion, me having realised her genius. Not only was the very funny joke lost on the purple-eyeshadowed trolley dolly, they weren't even able to fulfil Saffron's request. What does a girl need to do to get some armadillo these days?

Summer of '06

24 July 2006 Spending a nice summer's day at Kew Gardens with her posse.

Sweeping Staircase

11 July 2006 Saffron in yet another one of her incarnations as a Princess Bride

Playing ball

1 July 2006 Evening picnic followed by football at St James Park

Rebel with a cause

Still 25 June 2006 Saffron's little protest.

Almost there...

Reporting for work.

Mission accomplished; exhausted from the trek.

Stopping to smell the flowers on the way home.

Saffron's Big Day Out

25 June 2006 Saffron braving the tube to accompany Mummy to the office (on a Sunday, no less) to pick up some work and the laptop cable.

Saffron's close-up of the tube floor...

...her dress...

...the itchy upholstery...

...and her commendable attempt at Feet Photography.

Now that Kate Middleton's out of the picture...

29 June 2006 Saffron even has the coy, submissive princess look down pat. Buckingham Palace here we come!

Pilates Enthusiast

10 June 2006 Gatecrashing Mummy's Pilates class, Saffron reminds us what it's like to be young and flexible...

Menagerie

19 March 2006

Top Picture

If I had to pick my all-time favourite picture of Saffron, I couldn't. But if I had to pick my all-time top 500 favourite pictures of Saffron, this would definitely figure somewhere on the list.

No change there

Still on the birthday

More Birthday Pictures

Saffron must be the most photographed child around. For someone who's father isn't a celebrity footballer or an over-excitable Scientologist, and considering she wasn't publicly rescued from third world squalor by Oscar-nominated adoptive parents.

There must have been at least six cameras at her birthday picnic. Which explains why I'm having to backtrack a little, having unearthed a few more snapshots of our happy day in the park. Enjoy!

Just what I've always wanted

12 June 2006 The Birthday Girl opening her presents on her actual birthday...

The truth is I always find it a little stressful when Saffron has to open her presents in front of others; I find myself worrying that one day she'll just look up at the kind gift-giver, furrow her brows and say "What were you thinking?". Or maybe that's just me projecting my negativity onto my sweet innocent three-year old.

Thankfully for now, Saffron is more inclined to gasp in delight, open her eyes really wide and exclaim "I like it! I'm so happy!", topping it off with a huge smile that makes you feel really pleased with yourself. Perhaps that explains why she keeps receiving presents even when it's not anywhere near her birthday. Relatives, friends, friends of friends, friends of relatives, relatives of friends (you get the picture) all seem compelled to shower her with an endless stream of gifts. Occasionally Saffron will, after saying her thank yous, offer what she thinks is constructive feedback: "But my mummy won't like it; she only likes grey colour."

Before you think I'm inflexible and controlling, I'd like to set the record straight: mustard, leaf green, aubergine and deep red are also acceptable.

Saffron's Third Birthday

The exhausted birthday girl being carried home by her equally exhausted entourage.