Wednesday, 31 August 2011

What? Wednesday!

Fear not, I remembered it was Wednesday in the nick of time!   We’re all on holiday this week so all the days are merging into one, but I remembered while we were out today.  I’m afraid my image is a little weak, and technically it’s not a post-it note (it’s on the back of our receipt) but I’m with you, Mammasaurus!
So, a quick explanation – the first picture is a close-up of my note.  Feeble, as I said. The second is it in situ, in the cow-shed cafe at Tyntesfield House, a National Trust property near Bristol. The tables are all in the old stalls, and some of the feeding ‘furniture’ is still there.  This is what the cows would have eaten their hay from.

Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Writing Workshop - Gifts

My granny bought her Christmas cards this weekend.  August Bank Holiday weekend.  Someone pointed out to Mummy today that the next bank holiday is Christmas Day, but even so, having your cards already does seem to be a little forward-thinking.
You grown-ups do seem to get stressed-out by what ought to be a wonderful, family occasion.  I know Mummy is already thinking about it herself because the discussions have started about who’s going where and when.  Great to be looking forward to Santa coming, but there’s so much fun to be had between now and then!  Don’t wish away our lives.
I understand that Christmas is a religious festival, although at the moment I’m not too sure I get what it’s all about yet.  Plenty of time for that.  What I am aware of is presents!  Gifts.  Lots of them.  Beautifully wrapped in gorgeous paper and bright ribbons.  Everyone that comes to the house brings something lovely, usually for me.  How cool is that?!
Mummy is a great supporter of the old adage, “It’s the thought that counts.”  It seems to be too easy to rush into a shop these days and grab any old thing for someone, just to tick it off the list, but what’s the point of that, knowing they’re probably doing exactly the same for you?  You exchange ‘novelties’ that you bought on a 3 for 2 deal at the supermarket, when you might as well have not bothered and both of you saved your cash.  No thought went into it.  Is it any wonder that people think Christmas is becoming too commercialised?
Daddy doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not about how much money you spend on something that counts.  Mummy would far rather have a couple of flowers picked from the verge when Daddy’s out walking Hairy Dog than a big bunch from the petrol station on the way home from work when he remembers their anniversary – it means he’s thought about her while he’s out and not just had a reminder on his phone!  Far more romantic.
Handmade cards and gifts are great for the same reason.  Someone has cared enough about you and your ‘occasion,’ whatever that might be, to take time to create something special and unique for you.  Surely that carries more weight?
For me, a gift should be something that you want (not necessarily need) or that shows the giver has thought about you specifically – something to do with a hobby, or that reflects your personality.  Not a funny-shaped jar of boiled sweets because someone had to pick an extra item to make the deal worthwhile.
Santa seems to do pretty well.  I met him last year, you know.  I sat on his knee and looked him up and down, then stared him straight in the eye and asked him to bring me something lovely, using telepathy, of course.  My stocking was full to bursting on Christmas morning.  I think the trick is to keep the brief quite vague; that way, I’m not expecting anything too specific, so I’m not disappointed if he doesn’t get it quite right (talking of pressure, think of all the gifts Santa has to plan for!) but I think he also hedges his bets and leaves a few things.
I know sometimes parents are disappointed when we play longer with the box than with the toy, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  As I alluded to earlier, it’s about imagination.  Do it right, and there’s as much pleasure in the giving as in the receiving.

Sunday, 28 August 2011

Little Photos From Little Fingers

I’ve been tagged in another meme by Mammasaurus, this time a photo opportunity.  A chance to showcase some of my snaps! Although I did have some help from Mummy, the composition is all my own.

So, to carry on the fun, I’m passing the photo baton to the following bloggers.  Well, their little ones, anyway:
Adventures of a Working Mum
Manana Mama
Actually Mummy. . .
Sarah Mum of 3
Working Mum of Four

Silent Sunday

Friday, 26 August 2011

I Wish . . .

Well, we’re back.  We’ve been away for the week and it seems lots has happened in the blogosphere since I’ve been gone – Daddy gets a bit cross if Mummy and I use the computer where we’re on holiday, which I suppose is fair enough, so I’ve been a bit out of touch. Apologies if I’ve not commented on things as much as normal this week, or if I’ve been slow to respond to emails or tweets.
Anyway, it seems that I’ve been tagged by White Lily Mummy to tell you all about what I would wish for if I could.  How tricky!  Just one wish!
I’m an only child at the moment, and although I’m learning the ‘social skills’ Mummy and Daddy were keen to instil in me at nursery, it’s not quite the same as a sibling.  Now, don’t misunderstand me – I’m not going to waste my only wish on a baby brother or sister, (although I know Mummy is really broody at the moment).  If we suddenly had a new baby in the family, that title would be snatched from my sticky fingers, and it has its perks.  Not wishing to brag, but I get spoilt rotten! 
It helps because a lot of my family live a long way away so I don’t get to see them very often.  They shower me with gifts when I do visit – clothes, toys, gifts.  It’s great!  Of course, it’s lovely to see family, and I know Mummy and Daddy like to spend time with everyone, but I do love being the baby and always being the centre of attention.
So I suppose my wish is that family lived closer.  It would be great to be closer, physically and then emotionally, too.  The parents would be happier that way, too, and that’s got to be a good thing. I’m sure that would mean not so many goodies, but I think that would be worth it.  Perhaps then if I could get used to that, a sibling wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Wednesday, 24 August 2011

What? Wednesday

It's the inaugural What? Wednesday meme over at Mammasaurus today. The idea is, you draw yourself a picture on a Post-It note (other sticky notes are available) with your blog URL, and then you stick it somewhere. Anywhere. So, here's my picture, and below, a photo of it in the baby aisle at Morrisons because they're having a baby event at the moment and I thought other mummies and babies needed to know about my blog.  A bit of a giggle :)

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Crying Down

I am not a fan of crying down at night. In fact, I'm not a fan of crying down at any time. Thankfully, it doesn't happen very often, but I hate that Mummy and Daddy seem to think they have the upper hand. I also hate whoever gave them the suggestion in the first place.

Mummy's too soft for the "cry it out" method where they'd just leave me to get on with it, but with "crying down," one of them will come back after five minutes, then seven, and so on. I never get past nine minutes before sleep gets the better of me anyway, so it's not really an ordeal for any of us, and we've only ever done it a handful of times.

Tonight was one of those times. Mummy came back in after five minutes and I was still raging. She just wouldn't listen. "Night night," she said, "Time to sleep," she said, and then left. AAAAAHH! Fury! Just listen to what I'm saying!!

She came back after another seven minutes. I was standing up by this point, shaking the cot. I'd taken my pyjama bottoms off and thrown them as far across the room as I could. She got the message and checked my nappy. Thank goodness! I had had a small accident, and I was not prepared to sleep in it.

And that was all it took. Mummy's more upset about the whole thing than I am, and that can't be a bad thing. She wasn't going through her old list of checks when I cry - hunger, cold, nappy etc. She could do with a bit of a refresher! So tired, it just needed a bit better communication. She needs to think a bit more carefully until I can speak.

Sweet dreams, people!


Friday, 19 August 2011

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose

I’ve been feeling all poetic today, so in awe of my beautiful wellies, and inspired by Robert Burns, I’ve put together this little ditty.  My  boots, by the way, are as close to my pillow as possible, but on the floor because Mummy wouldn’t allow them in my cot.  They’re gorgeous!

O my love’s like a red, red rose
That newly came from Sainsbury’s
Oh my love’s like the squeaky mouse
That’s eyeing up the cheese.

As fair art thou, oh rubber boots,
So deep in love am I;
And I will love thee still, Wellies,
Till all the puddles dry:

Till all the puddles dry, Wellies,
And bedtime has come and gone
I will love thee still, Wellies,
With the rising of the sun.

And fare thee well, my lovely boots,
While I am out with Dad!

And I will come again, my boots,          
The wait is not all that bad.


Wednesday, 17 August 2011

The Gallery - Black and White

I’m posting today for The Gallery and the theme is Black and White.  Now, I realise I might be bending the rules a bit because technically this is a colour photo, or perhaps I’m just interpreting it differently.  Nobody’s allowed to touch the settings on Mummy’s camera, so this is the best I could do. 
We met Daisy (as I’ve imaginatively named her, after every cow in every book I own that features a bovine character) at the weekend when we took a stroll in the Somerset countryside.  She scarpered when I mooed at her.

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

Another Baby Toddle Tale

I’m sorry to keep banging on about this walking thing but it’s a big deal for me and I think some people are not taking it seriously enough.  Take this morning for example.  I’m still wobbly, I’ll admit, but I know my own mind and today I wanted to wear my wellies to nursery.
Mummy did warn me that they’re still a bit big and that they’d be tricky to walk in, but they’re so pretty I just wanted to show them off.  I’ll never tell her she was right, but I did feel like I was stuck knee deep in mud and I couldn’t do it.  Now, I could have just sat down quietly and taken them off, but no – I had a tantrum.  A full volume, fully body tantrum.  I threw myself to the floor, face down, flung the wellies across the room, banged my fists on the tiles and wailed.  And wailed!  Mummy walked away to collect her things ready to go out and I’m sure if I’d lifted my head up I’d have seen her smirking.  It’s just not funny.
So, I decided to get a grip and try again but I was so worked up by this point I couldn’t get the wellies back on my feet and I couldn’t concentrate enough to follow Mummy walking so I half crawled, half shuffled my way down the corridor, clutching my beloved boots.  And wailing.
We compromised and I wore my shoes to nursery as I walked in, up the ramp, looking at the beautiful flowers in big, bright pots.  They must have seen me coming and I think Mummy indicated that I was walking because we didn’t have to ring the bell – the door was already open.  I toddled in and there was rapturous applause and cheering that I wasn’t expecting.  I burst into tears!  I’m sure they didn’t mean to upset me but I just wanted Mummy’s trousers to eat me up.  All those eyes looking at me!  “She’s finally doing it!”  “She looks like Bambi!”  “Watch out, baby room!”  Horrid, horrid, horrid.
I am still pleased with myself because I can do something now that I couldn’t this time last week, but haven’t forgotten this morning yet.

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Chatty Baby’s First Steps!

Mummy’s had my baby book out today to record the long-awaited milestone that is my first steps.  I’ve been teasing her for a while now, and she was a good girl today so I think she’s earned it.
We had lunch with our lovely mummy and baby friends, and then we went swimming, but I guess today you want to hear about the big news.
I’ve been able to squat and stand, cruise, and walk while clutching a parent’s finger with my vice-like grip for some time now, just haven’t really fancied stepping out unaccompanied.  I have some great push-along toys, and even some improvised ones that need a bit of imagination.  I’ve been clambering all over furniture and climbing stairs, grooving to my favourite tunes and Daddy’s Bon Jovi CDs, but it’s the unaided steps that have been eluding me.
I’ve been walking everywhere this week.  Round and round the garden, all over the house, from the door to the car and back again, with anyone who will help me; Mummy, Daddy, Grandma.  Mummy came back from the shop tonight and I was on the drive with Daddy, chatting with the neighbours.  I was really pleased to see her and she plonked the bags on the ground and knelt down to see me.  To be honest, I didn’t even really think about it, I just toddled across towards her, step, step, step, step, wobble and down.  I thought she was going to cry.
So there it is.  A bit of an anti-climax, if you ask me. I might give it another go tomorrow, I might not.  We’ll see what the day brings.

Friday, 12 August 2011

I Believe I Can Fly!

Mummy says I'm going to take my first flight soon. I can hardly contain my excitement! I'm into everything new at the moment. If only Mummy were looking forward to flying with a baby. You see, Daddy's driving and he'll meet us there so Mummy will have to travel with me on her own. Lucky for her, it's just a short flight.

She's been asking lots of people for tips for trouble-free travel with an almost-toddler (no, I still can't do it on my own!) and she has quite a list coming on. If we were going further afield, we'd be printing Adventures of a Working Mum's tips and following them to the letter! Daddy says this is practice and if I'm good, we might go on a 'proper holiday' soon. If Mummy has an ounce of sense, and she's as desperate for a trip abroad as she says, she'll say it was a breeze whatever happens. Which means I could have a bit of fun!

I know she has a bit of a plan, along these lines:

Bribes! There is a bag of new toys for me to distract me at key moments. Knowing how much I like presents, Mummy is wrapping them individually for me to prolong the suspense.
Drinks: This is partly because she doens't want to remortgage to buy a drink on a 'low-cost' airline, but also because the drink will help me through popping ears on take off and landing. I think she might even take my dummy even though that's usually just for bed time.
Snacks: There are some chocolate buttons in the bag (illicit gems where the surprise will be as much of a distraction as the chocolate itself) but also the usual suspects; raisins, rice cakes, carrot crisps. We'll leave things like bananas and fruit purees at home because we'll assume we'll be sitting next to at least one stranger and you know what a messy eater I am.
The outrage is that I'm not old enough to get my own seat, I have to travel on Mummy's knee, but I still have to pay half price for the privilege! Travelling on Mummy's knee is going to be horrific. I really don't think I'll be able to sit still that long, and being totally honest, I've been a bit of a madam this week. I will not be put in my car seat without a fight at the moment, and I am prone to a terrible tantrum now and then, (at least three times a day!) where I throw myself to the ground and scream and bang my fists.


Wednesday, 10 August 2011

That's Not My Mummy!

I have a healthy collection of “That’s Not My XXX” books and I thought I’d write my own.  It’s not illustrated yet, but I’ll come to that.  It’s called “That’s not my Mummy” and it goes like this:
That’s not my mummy – her hair is too tidy.
That’s not my mummy – her clothes are too clean.
That’s not my mummy – her tea is so hot.
That’s not my mummy – her house is so organised.
THAT’S my mummy – she has such dark circles under her eyes!
And that’s my book!  How would your babies identify you?

Monday, 8 August 2011

The Gallery: Water

I’m sharing some more photos with you all today, inspired by The Gallery on the Sticky Fingers blog.  The theme is Water this week.
I had a mini-break back in the winter at the Cotswold Water Park, with Mummy and Daddy, of course.  This was our view of the water:

Mummy kept saying how peaceful it was.  We didn’t do any water sports (it was the wrong time of year for the wildlife) but we were able to visit some of the local hostelries in the interest of warming up after a brisk walk!
This is me and Daddy, reaching the end of the road.  I say road, but it was a track at best.  As you might expect from somewhere calling itself a water park, there was a lot of it about.

To me, water is the source of all my best fun; swimming, my bath, the paddling pool, and best of all, Hairy Dog’s drinking bowl where I wash my socks.

Friday, 5 August 2011

Ten Things You Didn't Know About Me

Tag, I'm it!  Actually Mummy has tagged me because she "knows I'm up for it!" How exciting!  She's right!

So, as with AM and her post, I tell you all pretty much everything anyway, so I'm having to think quite hard about secrets.  I'm a few years behind the rest of you on life experience!

  1. I once let Hairy Dog take the blame for a big stain on my bedroom carpet.  Mummy and I told Daddy that HD had been sick, but in fact I'd had a nappy-free whoopsie!  I hold Mummy entirely responsible for assuming that the three nappies of that persuasion she'd already dealt with that day would be the end of it.
  1. Leading on from number one, I am a firm believer that nappies are for losers.  I don't like the restricted feeling and the bulk hinders my dancing.
  1. I am an accomplished oarsman. I know all the verses to "Row, row, row your boat," even the new-fangled modern ones that weren't around when Mummy learnt to row.  I've been rowing since I was about eight months old and I wowed them at nursery with my enthusiasm and vigour.
  1. I am very keen on tractors at the moment.  What's not to love?  I'm turning into a proper country bumpkin!  Just call me Chatty "Massey Ferguson" Baby.
  1. Avocado is the food of the Devil.
  1. Daddy has passed on many of his facial expressions to me, in particular his mono-brow frown.  Mummy doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when she sees it in stereo!
  1. On a similar note, I am very like Mummy when I can't do something my brain thinks I should be able to but my body won't allow.  She's calmed the drama down a bit these days but I still like to holler and throw things and complain vociferously that I'll never be able to do it.
  1. I nearly knocked Daddy out once.  We were playing quite nicely but he was getting a bit complacent so lay down on the floor.  I picked up my xylophone and brought it crashing down on his head.  It was the first time I'd seen blood - very cool!  Only till I realised that I'd really hurt him and he was seeing stars, then I wailed.
  1. Sleep is for the weak.  I get that "people" still think I should be napping at least twice a day, that's no secret.  So, I have perfected a power nap of approximately 10 minutes now that I try and pass off as a decent rest.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  Must try harder.
  1. When I grow up, I want to design and test prams, buggies, travel systems and anything else like that with wheels and moving parts.  I am fascinated by the engineering and sleek craftsmanship of today's pushchair.  If you don't want me playing with yours, put the brake on.  Without it, I can't promise I won't wheel it away.
So there you have it!  Now I'm tagging:

What you need to next is write your own list, (leave me a link in the comments so I can keep up with the answers) and then leave a link with Me and my Kiddywinks who started it all.


Wednesday, 3 August 2011

Writing Workshop - Big Screen Inspiration

Today’s post is for this week’s Writing Workshop over at Sleep Is For The Weak next Monday. The prompt is Big Screen Inspiration and our favourite quotation.  Here’s mine:
Nobody Said Being A Bunny Would Be Easy!
This is one of Mummy’s favourite movie quotations.  It stems from her childhood, and has become part of the regular family dialogue.  It comes from The Tale Of The Bunny Picnic, created by Jim Henson of The Muppets fame.  Sadly, the film was never that big in this country, but Mummy recently heard it made it to DVD  (she’d previously only seen it on VHS – that’s how old she, I mean it, is!) so she’s scouring the internet for my copy.
As you might expect, the film is about al fresco rabbit dining; Bean is told by his bunny brother that he is too small to help with the preparation.  Bean hops off alone and comes across the ultimate nemesis – the farmer’s dog.  Nobody believes Bean has seen it until it’s too late and the dog breaks free!  Bean must come up with a plan to outwit the dog.
“Nobody said being a bunny would be easy,” is a good reminder to us all, just substitute your own noun if you don’t like the rabbit reference.  When I’m struggling to walk, talk, climb, do things my mind says yes but my body says no to, Mummy reminds me that, “Nobody said being a baby would be easy.”  And she’s right.  I just take stock, breathe, pick myself up and try again.
It works for her too, although you have to pick your moment to remind her.  When she’s been up four times in the night, the house is a tip and I’ve just smeared breakfast all over her posh work outfit, Daddy might be wise not to remind her that, “Nobody said being a mummy would be easy,” and just assume as she clenches her fists and looks skyward that she’s saying it to herself.  I don’t think Daddy’s seen the film anyway.
Try it!  Next time you’re feeling the pressure, remember, “Nobody said being a bunny would be easy.” Even if it only makes you smile because you think it’s madness, it should lighten the load a bit.

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Pool Closure

I hope you all had a good weekend.  I went swimming with Mummy.  We hadn’t been for a while but we were both really looking forward to it.  We realised quite how long it had been when the pool was closed because the timetable had changed.  “Come back in two hours.”
The day was turning into a pretty good jolly by this time – Mummy decided to take me out for lunch first, then back to the pool in the afternoon. I ate loads!  Cauliflower and broccoli cheese – yum.
So, there we were, splashing around, having great fun.  I think it’s hilarious when I jump around and my head goes under the water a bit.  It’s so exciting that I sometimes forget to close my mouth and if I don’t spit the water at Mummy, I swallow it.  A lot of water in a short space of time can be very dramatic ; ask anyone who’s ever seen a flash flood! 
I don’t know if it was the amount of swimming pool I shipped, or the speed I ate my lunch, but ‘flash flood’ is a pretty accurate description of the recycled veg as it hit the pool.  Mummy froze as I spluttered, not really sure what to do.  What is one supposed to do in that sort of situation?  She grabbed the filter-blocking sized chunks and whisked me off to report the incident to the lifeguard.
I think Mummy was mortified by the whole thing, but you know me, I like to test just how far she’ll go.  While she was talking to the nice pool lady, I was wriggling about and managed to shift the swim nappy just enough that when I weed, it went all over Mummy!  Ha ha!  She didn’t even flinch, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye as the warm patch spread over her tummy and down her leg.  She just kept talking.  No, I haven’t been ill.  No, this hasn’t happened before.
I closed the pool.  That’s quite a claim to fame, I think!  I’m sorry for all the other little babies who were having a nice time with their parents and had their fun cut short; the session had only started 15 minutes earlier, so they hadn’t had long.  It may be a while before I get to swim again so I’ll suggest to Mummy that we call before we go next time.  And I bet we go for a morning session, before lunch!