Drum Roll, Please . . . Introducing BABY SISTER!

I must tell you about my girl!  Mummy says she now has two beautiful girls but I know this new one is mine. “This is my girl,” I tell Mummy as I poke the baby’s face.

Hers, mine – who cares?!  I’m now a Big Sister!  We have a new baby, imaginatively called Baby Sister.  She’s pretty cute, and I absolutely adore her.  She has far more hair than I did when I arrived, and she’s much better behaved (so says Mummy). I say it’s their own fault – Mummy and Daddy wanted a “spirited” girl when they had me, and that’s what they got.

BS doesn’t do much yet – I was expecting an instant playmate but she’s actually quite dull – and we’ve had her two months already so I hope she gets a move on soon.  I’m pretty good at sharing The Olds with her, but sometimes it’s only right that I get priority.  You’d be surprised at how a baby’s cry suddenly makes me desperate for a wee! Spooky, eh?

She has her own room but she’s hardly ever there when I go in with my stool looking to interest her in a game of some sort – it’s as if she’s hiding from me.  Hey! Or being hidden!

I’m going to be a great big sister, I just know it.  I’m sure she’ll post from time to time when she’s bigger like me and can master the keyboard.

Have a lovely Christmas everyone!

CB x

Stocking Filler Books - Review

Only five more sleeps!  I am beside myself with excitement!  In fact, I have a bad case of what Mummy and the lovely nursery ladies are calling “Santa Fever.”  I woke up at 4am today to check if the Big Man had been (he hadn’t) and if I’m honest, I am a little anxious that after a few “incidents” (tantrums!) over recent weeks, he might not come at all so that’s preying on my mind.  So when I say I woke up at 4am, what I actually mean is I woke up and stayed up at 4am.  

My stocking is all set, I’ve decorated a lovely plate to put tasty treats on for Santa and the reindeer, and my party dress is hanging on the front of my wardrobe ready to slip on at a moment’s notice.

We were sent some books recently that Mummy says would be great stocking fillers.  Clearly, Father Christmas really does know everyone, because they came from the lovely people at Egmont Publishing. (Perhaps they’re elves, helping out – I’ve not been to their offices, nor actually met anyone, so cannot verify their red and green outfits with bells on.)

Anyway, let me tell you about the books: I love them!  They star instantly recognisable characters from current television programmes, which piqued my interest straight away.  Like old friends, I knew them all by name.  So I don’t spoil any plot lines, I’ll avoid talking about the stories themselves, but the characters are Thomas the Tank Engine (“Snowy Tracks”), Everything’s Rosie (“The Last Snowball”) and Mr Men (“Mr Men Meet Father Christmas”).

There are quite a lot of words on each page so they’re not really suitable as first readers, but the fact that they feature characters from shows aimed at a very young audience means they’re fantastic for reading with grown-ups.  That’s what Mummy and I have been doing.  We talk about the big, bold pictures, I spot things, match colours and so on.

Both Mummy and I love that they’re the size of the Mr Men books she used to read when she was little – “pocket sized,” although not mine!  They fit nicely in Mummy’s handbag so she always has something to entertain (distract!) me when we’re out.  And that suits me.  I ‘read’ them to my dollies, and to Baby Sister now.  They’re easy for my little hands to handle, and it’s nice that I have some ‘big girl’ books now that aren’t made of board – sucking corners is so last year! And best of all for the party season, there's bling on the covers!  Glitter, at any rate.

The books are available from all good book retailers if you’ve already sent your letter to Santa.

Wot So Funee?

My Mummy’s a funny one.  She has a very strange sense of humour.  I don’t think anything particularly funny has happened this week though, so she’s insisted on adding this story to my blog and linking it up with Actually Mummy’s Wot So Funee? meme.  I guess you’ll be the judge, lovely readers.

So, it goes like this; Mummy was putting me to bed, I was tucked up, lights were out, and Mummy was sitting on the end of my bed, as she sometimes does for a while until I run out of reasons why she should stay.

CB: “Am I a good girl, Mummy?”

Mummy: “Yes, darling.  And you’re clever, and beautiful, and kind.”

CB (after a pause): “I’m happy, Mummy.”

Mummy: “I’m glad you’re happy!  That makes me happy because I love you very much.”

CB: “And I love Jake!”

Apparently there was a dejected look from Mummy who was expecting a ‘moment’ or at the very least that I would substitute Jake for her, but I just wasn’t feeling it.  Jake is a lovely boy I know from nursery.  Even Mummy likes him.

You can read other people’s funny stories over at Actually Mummy here.

CB x

What The Duck? It's Gone Stateside!

OH. WOW.  Now, I say this with more excitement than you can possibly imagine (and this from a girl who thinks finding a snail in the garden at nursery is on a par with Christmas)  DUCK 1 IS BACK!

He has checked in, and he has crossed The Pond! 

He is, as they say, Stateside! 

Living it large in the good old US of A!

A quick recap on his travels to date:

He landed on the car of West Country Ales in Cheddar Gorge, where he was found by lovely Daisy, who took him to Scotland and a tour of the Trossachs.

He holidayed in the Canary Islands over Easter, even though he’s a duck, joining Thalia and Charlotte on their trip to Lanzarote.

From there, he hooked up (Hook a-Duck?  Anyone?  Sorry) with Ulysse and Achille and travelled to Luxembourg and then to Boston, Massachusetts where he has been released back into the wild.  Or at least passed to Ulysse and Achille’s neighbours who are 8 and 5.  Best of luck to them - Ulysee and Achille have set the bar so high!

Here are the pictures from his recent adventures:

Isn't he looking well?  Keep up to date with all the ducks' progress at the official What The Duck? page.

Artistic Licence Competes With Artistic Temperament!

This is a tale from a few weeks ago now, but one I felt worth sharing lest The Olds should ever forget the trauma it caused.  They have a memento for the time being, but we’ll come to that.

My story starts with Mummy coming home late from work, so while she and I had spent some time alone before nursery, with Daddy collecting me, I’d been by myself with him too.  For the sake of no further arguments about when The Deed Was Done, that’s my little secret.

Daddy and I were in the sitting room when Mummy came in.  “Sit down!” I ordered her.  Amazingly, she sat!  I’d pointed her to a seat on the other side of the room from where she normally sits, so I guess you could say she could see everything from a different perspective.  They were chatting away when Mummy suddenly gasped a mixture of horror and disbelief as she noticed the floor beside where she normally sits.  The noise was quickly drowned out by Daddy’s noise, more anger on top of outrage, if you can imagine such a sound!

They’d spotted my artwork on the floor.  I’m not talking about a piece of paper I’d dropped, either.  Purple crayon swirls, big and bold, straight onto the oak.  Some of my more creative work, if I’m honest.

The volume increased considerably when they noticed that I’d not felt restricted and had continued around all four sides of the coffee table.  Time to give them some space and appreciate it, for art’s sake.  I left the room.  I know now that they set about scrubbing the floor on their hands and knees squabbling about who was to blame.  Like I said, I’m keeping schtum about who wasn’t watching me while I did it.  I guess in the end, it was a good thing that crayon comes off wood, if with a lot of work.

Daddy was the one who noticed I’d sneaked off and he was the one who came looking for me.  Cue that awful anger/outrage noise again as he found me and caught me red-handed.  A red crayon this time, with huge, beautiful circle formations (not “scribbles,” as Daddy called them!) as high as I could reach in a 4ft long masterpiece on the wall in the corridor!

He was furious, (why was I so naughty?) I was furious, (how dare he not appreciate my creation?) and we both went running in to Mummy to tell her of our anguish.  She laughed at us both which didn’t help. 

For information, red crayon does not come off magnolia walls.  Or at least, that’s what they tell me.  I wonder if secretly they actually love it.

CB x

New Excitement For Toddler Bathtime

Before a first baby arrives, it seems a perfectly normal state of mind for parents to seem a bit daunted by all the ‘stuff’ they seem to need.  The lists are endless.  And they have to be believed because you wouldn’t want to find yourself without a bottle-warmer in the middle of the night, would you?

Mummy and Daddy did their best, but there are things they’re not planning on using when my sister arrives.  Like a nappy bin.  Seemed like such a good idea originally, but unless you’re emptying it really frequently, you end up with a really stinky nappy sausage when you eventually take the lid off.  And how heavy!  We empty the kitchen bin most days anyway so I think they’ll just go with that this time round.

One thing we didn’t have when I was tiny was a Flexibath.  In all honesty, when we first heard about it, we thought “gimmick.”  When would we ever use that?  How wrong we were.  It’s fantastic!  We were given a shiny red one to review (which is what you’re reading now) and we can’t praise it enough.

So what is it?  Essentially, it’s a baby bath.  But it’s one with a difference.  It folds flat for easy storage, and therefore easy transportation.  It would easily fit into a suitcase, to avoid those nasty baby/basin bathing dilemmas, like my holiday in France when I was just six weeks old.  Taps are sore!  And so are plugs!  I was just too small for the big bath in those days, but your standard, non-collapsible baby baths just don’t fit in a car full of suitcases, pushchair and other associated baby paraphernalia.

With everything that’s going on this year, we don’t have a holiday planned so we won’t be able to test out the bath abroad with my baby sister, but I’m sure we’ll use it here.  And in the meantime, I love it myself, and I’m conducting extensive testing most nights.

It measures 66.5cm x 38.9cm and it’s 23.8cm deep.  It has no nasties in terms of what it’s made of either (no PVC, no heavy metals, no phthalates – think new car smell – or any other potentially hazardous materials).

The other points we think are worth mentioning are:

• -          It’s light and easy to clean
• -      It has its own flat, rubber plug (like a piggy bank) so it’s easy to drain
• -          It uses far less water than the big bath, so it saves money
• -          I sit in it in the shower cubicle, which means I can splash as much as I like, or in the Flexibath in the big bath, again so I can tip water over the sides without repercussion
• -          We fill the Flexibath from the shower, so we don’t need to put the hot water on.  Again, saves money, and think of the environment!

Neither I nor Mummy received any payment for this review and all opinions expressed are our own.  We think it’s a fab bit of kit!  It comes in lots of different colours and is available online from the lovely people at Whitestep, who supplied us with ours and also do some other rather handy little things,  at £29.95.

So, there's my tip for a "can't live without" product - any more we shouldn't be without?

Happy splashing!

CB x

A Disgraceful Lack Of Posts!

Yikes, it’s been over a month since my last post! (Nearly two, if you look closely!) I’m slacking in my old age!  In that time, so much has happened.  In brief summary, and not in any particular order:

• -          It was the Jubilee!  I spent a lovely weekend with friends and family, dancing, eating and laughing – is there a better way to celebrate?
• -          My friend got herself a baby sister.  I want one!
• -          Mummy said I’m getting one.  A baby sister, that is.  No sign yet.  I want her NOW!
• -          Hairy Dog nearly died.
• -          Perhaps the biggest news is that I had a birthday.  How cool are they?!  I spent the week after the big day trying to persuade Mummy and Daddy to prolong the festivities, pleading and sometimes demanding, “More Birthday!”

It’s been a really exciting month, all in all.  Fuelled by the lovely people at Plum Baby, I’ve taught myself to do roly-polies, much to Mummy’s dismay.  The Plum crew sent me some really yummy Oaty Chomp bars – strawberry cheesecake flavour!  They don’t have any nasty added salt or sugar (just strawberries and raisins to make them sweet) and as the name suggests, they’re made of organic oats and quinoa.  At 20g, they’re a perfect snack size, although I often try and hold out for a second – a growing girl needs plenty of energy, after all – and although I can’t manage the wrapper yet, I have no trouble holding the bar and shovelling it into my mouth.

Speaking of shovelling, that describes perfectly how the multigrain crispy rings pass my lips!  Cheddar was my favourite (in fact, there is also Gouda in there) but I was rather partial to the Tomato rings, too.  Again they use quinoa, but also corn and rice, and something called ‘teff,’ which is rich in fibre, iron, protein and calcium – perfect for helping toddler gymnastics!

So, about the gymnastics.  I couldn’t really tell you where I got my inspiration, I just fancied giving it a go.  I’m not ready for Olympic Roly Poly competition yet but there’s still time.  I get a bit lop-sided every now and then, and I have a tendency to go over on my head rather than tuck it in, but it’s another pretty fancy move to my repertoire.  Oh, and I got a trampoline for my birthday so life is pretty energetic around here these days!

You can buy Plum products direct from them online at www.plum-baby.co.uk, or from the major supermarkets, as well some other retailers.

Hairy Dog nearly drowned in next door’s pond because he fell in and hadn’t told anyone he was going out.  Thankfully Daddy noticed he was missing and went to look for him.  Everyone was frightened, not least HD and the fish in the pond!  I hear about the pond and how dangerous it can be A LOT at the moment. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

CB x

Pregnancy Hormones

I’m not exactly sure what “pregnancy hormones” means, but it’s Mummy’s excuse for everything at the moment.  It’s why she left my coat in the car the other day and I got wet running into nursery. It’s why she left her own shoes in the nursery when she left to go to work.  It’s why she’s laughing hysterically one minute and bawling her eyes out the next. She’s becoming a bit of an embarrassment, if I’m honest.


I discovered a new meaning to “Terrible Twos” yesterday, too, and for once, it wasn’t me misbehaving.  I think it’s quite accurate to use it for the second trimester of pregnancy, if my experience is anything to go by.  None of this “blooming” I’ve heard rumoured, and Daddy’s been looking out for that very keenly.


She walked into the kitchen door (she’s so clumsy at the moment!) and dropped her mug.  It smashed into a thousand tiny pieces, but Mummy’s meltdown was even more spectacular; the wailing, the tears, the ensuing sobbing!  I was quite impressed for a minute.  Then I got bored and left her to her grieving and clearing up, and went back to what I was doing.  So, it was her favourite mug, but really – did it warrant such a scene?


I think all three of us are desperate for the transition to blooming.  I’ll keep you posted!


CB  x

Big News From Chatty's House!

Word on the street is that Mummy and Daddy are getting another baby!  I don’t know for sure because they haven’t told me, but it seems I’m the last to know.  Why would they tell me?  I’m only their beloved daughter!

But everyone else seems to be talking about it.  We met friends over the weekend and they were asking Mummy things like “Have you told Chatty yet?” as if I weren’t in the room, or my ears don’t work.  And then yesterday, we had lunch with my rellies and my cousin asked me about being a big sister to the new baby.  Now, I don’t know what a “sister” is, but it was pretty clear about a new baby.

We don’t need one, surely?  Am I not challenge enough for Mummy and Daddy?!  Note to self: Must up my game a bit, quickly!  We have a dog, we have chickens, we have my baby dollies for goodness sake.  No need, if you ask me.  Which they haven’t.

I think the New Baby must be coming from a long way away because we’re not getting it for a while.  I guess it’s one of these fancy mail order things that Mummy likes.  Apparently we’ll have it before I get to dress up as a witch for Halloween, and that’s ages away.  On the plus side, that’s plenty of time for me to persuade Mummy to cancel the order.  In the meantime, I'm practicing my best 'surprised' face for when they think to mention it.

CB x

Remember Sacramento!

A few weeks ago, I promised you a story within a couple of days.  It didn’t happen, sorry.  I guess you could still call a fortnight “a few days” . . . maybe?

Anyway, here’s the story.  I’m going through a bit of a rebellious stage at the moment.  I won’t do a thing I’m told, and I am constantly testing the boundaries.  Daddy’s refusing to take me out on his own at the moment since a trip to the supermarket yesterday.  I ran away and hid and I think I scared him a bit. 

Mummy took me today and told me that I had to sit in the trolley, or wear my reins.  Yeah, right.  I refused, so she manhandled me into a trolley.  I hate the fact my size is such a disadvantage to me!  What I do have in my armoury is a great set of lungs, so I was still screeching by the time we got to the pay-the-cashier bit.

The Story goes back a couple of weeks, when this phase was already alive and well.  I’ll admit that I was trying very hard.  No, wait: I was very trying.  According to Mummy at any rate.  I whinged all day, I cried and screamed.  In the end, Daddy was in charge by bath time.  I’d been wailing for my bath all afternoon.  I didn’t want to eat, I wanted a bath.  I didn’t want to play outside, I wanted a bath.  I didn’t want to draw, I wanted a bath. 

Bath time came, Daddy ran me a lovely, bubbly, warm bath.  I wouldn’t take my clothes off, and I most certainly would not get in the bath.  More screaming, more kicking of feet and banging of fists. Then the unthinkable happened!  Not that Daddy lost it but that he put me in the bath, WITH MY CLOTHES ON!  Incredible. 

It has echoes of an incident with Mummy and Grandma many years ago.  Mummy was only small, and they were driving on the west coast of the US.  Grandma doesn’t like driving on the wrong side of the road at the best of times, and certainly not when she doesn’t know where she’s going, but Mummy cut her no slack at all.  She wailed for juice for hours when there was no way for Grandma to get her any.  Eventually, they arrived in a town called Sacramento, checked into the hotel, and the first thing Grandma did was give Mummy juice.  Mummy said she didn’t want it any more, so Grandma picked her up, stood her in the shower, and tipped it over her head!  “Remember Sacramento” is still a very real threat in the family lexicon.   Love that story!

CB x

Happy Bloggiversary To Me!

A whole year! Who’da thought, eh?  It was actually yesterday, but that being Mother’s Day, I thought I’d better not spend ages on the computer.  Had to spend some time being nice to Mummy.  We had a lovely day with my rellies and I loved playing with my cousins – so much more fun now I can run around with them.

So, a little reflection on the last year; what a year it’s been.  I set out to write as a way of recording the little milestones of life that might otherwise be easily forgotten, but also to practice writing.  I’d say I’ve achieved both goals, and while I don’t write as regularly as I used to, (I will try and remedy that, I promise) I have also discovered the Blogosphere and met some really interesting people.  I have quite a story to tell you over the next couple of days!

Thanks to everyone who’s read, commented and generally supported my blog over the last twelve months.  It does make a little girl very happy to know there are people out there.

CB x

Brit Mums Brilliance In Blogging Vote Plea

I won’t beat about the bush, I want something.  Your vote.  (If you've not already cast it, that it - I know I'm late again!)

I love writing my blog and I hope you like reading it.  That is enough for me, and that was the point of starting it in the first place, almost a year ago.  But who doesn’t like a little recognition?

I don’t expect to win any awards, but even being nominated would give me a huge boost. I would be one happy little baby.  As a very independent little lady, I will tell you that I can do most things on my own, but I do need a little be of help with this.  Just a teensy bit.  You need to nominate me for a Brit Mums Brilliance In Blogging award, by clicking here! 

I know I have one nomination already (you can always count on your Mummy!) but with such fantastic blogs out there to compete with, there is work to do.  It might seem a little defeatist that I don’t expect to win, but up against some very high-profile, successful blogs, even being mentioned in the same breath would be an achievement for my humble little blog.

So there you have it.  My shameless plea for votes.  I won’t promise to change the world, there will be no healthcare reforms or better support for the elderly, no end to tuition fees or cuts in fuel duty, just a grateful baby blogger.

Thank you.

CB x

Top Of The Pops When I Was Born

This is an interesting one, for Mummy at least.  She’s feeling totally horrified and very old!  I’ve been tagged by Joanne at The Blunt Truth to share what was at Number 1 when I was born.  I had no idea so I enlisted Mummy’s help.  Turns out it was a song called “Gettin’ Over You” by David Guetta featuring Chris Willis, Fergie and someone/thing called LMFAO.  Charmed, I sure.

We’re none the wiser.  Mummy had heard of Fergie (didn’t she marry Prince Andrew?) but apart from that, there’s not a lot that jumps out at us.  In fact, we’d never heard of any of the songs in the whole Top 10, and that’s what’s making Mummy feel old.

She’s been a die-hard Radio 2 listener for years now, (at least ten) since all the people she used to listen to on Radio 1 now have shows on Radio 2.  And they play ‘proper’ music, with a tune, not just boom boom boom.  I guess she might as well be saying, “Back in my day,” or “When I was a girl,” but then she really would be old.

Worth mentioning that some guy called Elvis was Number 1 when she was born?  See – really old.

CB x

Are We Nearly There Yet?

The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed that I've been invited to be part of the Sainsbury's Bank blogger network.  This is a guest post from the friendly folks over there:

I don’t know why Mummy and Daddy do long car journeys, because we always end up going to the same place – it’s called ‘There’. Have you heard of it? When I was really little and Mummy or Daddy drove me in the car, I didn’t mind that much. The rumbling of the wheels was lovely and soothing and it must have made me fall asleep, because when I opened my eyes again we would always be at ‘There’ and one of them would be taking me out of my seat.
But now it’s just so boring and it’s hard to sit still when all I want to do is explore and play.
Mummy gives me lots of toys to play with, but if I drop one of my animals, how can I pick it up again if I am strapped into my seat? If Mummy and Daddy are in the front, there’s nobody to get it for me, so the best thing to do is scream my head off. That makes them decide it’s time to stop and take a break.
One good thing about long trips in the car is that I always get lots of lovely treats to eat. I love yummy pieces of fruit with yoghurt. Blueberries are nice too – very squishy and great for painting your face with.  But I only get food in Mummy’s car because Daddy’s is too new and shiny.
That means we have to stop regularly for food and drink. After we eat we try and go outside, because Mummy and Daddy say they need to stretch their legs. They never really stretch their legs, though – they just walk around a bit. If they don’t, they get all grumpy and start arguing over a thing called a map.
After lunch I like to have a nap. Mummy and Daddy never fall asleep like me – they take turns to drive. They can do this because they are both on the car insurance, which is a special cushion that you use to stop your back aching when you drive.
Usually when I wake up we are at ‘There’ again. Funny sort of place, ‘There’ – it looks different each time we visit.

Neither I nor Mummy received payment for this post though as a part of the Sainsbury's Bank blogger network, we did receive a one-off £50 voucher.  We were under no obligation to publish the post but we liked it so we did.

CB x

Autocracy In The Baby Room

Almost the end of another week. Where IS the time going?  I’ve had quite a good week this week.  The week before last, the last of my proper friends got promoted from the baby room to the nursery and I was left behind.  Not actually alone, of course, but the only Big Kid in a room full of babies.  I wondered if I’d done something wrong, or if I should be wearing the dunce’s hat, but apparently it’s all to do with when our birthdays are and rules about how many under-2s are allowed in the nursery at any one time.

The cruel reality is that there’s a window in the bottom of the door separating the two rooms, so I can press my snotty nose up against the glass and watch my friends, and my boyfriend, having a rare old time without me.

I figured I had two choices.  I could sit and mope and pine for my chums, or I could use my older, superior brain to my advantage in the baby room.  I’ve opted for Choice 2.  A lot of these babies aren’t even crawling yet, so you could say I’ve learned with no real difficulty about the saying “taking candy from a baby.”  It is just too easy.  I get to play with anything I want.

That was last week’s trick.  I’ve taken it to a whole new level this week once I realised that actually the little rug-rats look up to me.  I’m developing a game that I’ve imaginatively called “Chatty Baby Says,” whereby they all need to obey my commands.  It’s a bit like Simon Says, except to keep things really simple for the heel-biters, they just do what I say regardless of how I start the sentence.  I’m encouraging all sorts of naughtiness, like taking off shoes and socks as soon as they’ve been put on and the Nice Nursery Lady’s back is turned.

They (the Nice Nursery Ladies) need  to plan big operations, like getting us all dressed to go and play outside, which means they often start slowly and quietly, ‘processing’ us one at a time.  No such luck yesterday.  I heard the magic word “outside” whispered, and couldn’t help myself.  “BOOTS!” I yelled, at the top of my voice, immediately alerting the munchkins to the fact that action was imminent.

Well, it seems they like the fresh air and the garden toys as much as I do.  The ensuing chaos can only be compared to the excitement in a dog-owner’s home when he or she calls “Walkies!”

My work here is done.

CB x

A Wasted Weekend

What a weekend!  What liberties The Olds take!  They claim they were both ill this weekend so there was more of me looking after them than them looking after me.  Outrageous behaviour, quite frankly.  Daddy had me hunting high and low for his shoes and I even heard him say that he’s getting some steps to the fridge. Mummy hardly played with me at all, and apparently we’re taking out shares in Kleenex and Lucozade.

They didn’t even have the same thing so I guess they could swap in time for next weekend.  I’m going back to nursery for a rest!  Daddy’s had Man Flu for a few weeks now and it looks like he has a sinus infection that’s knocking him out, but he will not see a doctor.  Mummy was vomiting a lot on Saturday (isn’t that a gross word?!)  Last time I did that thing, it was mostly milk so we just changed my top and carried on.  Mummy was looking quite intently into the toilet when she did it, and that made Daddy mad – “Don’t let CB see you,” he said, “She might start sticking her head down the loo!”  As if!  Ambitions of licking the pan are for babies!  I’ve got an idea of what toilets are for now, and while there is a poo fascination, of course, I do understand it’s dirty!

I finally went to bed on Saturday night having spent all my energy trying to engage them in a game of chase, or painting, or reading.  Daddy put me to bed, which is how I know Mummy was really not well.  That, and the fact that she spent the evening at the hospital waiting for pills to stop the barf.  I think the relief she felt that it’s not Norovirus is somewhere about half the relief Daddy and I felt on Sunday morning that it’s not coming our way. 

So, a 24hr bug and Mummy’s better, but she and I still went to see my grandparents for the day.  I ate loads!  Seemed a shame to waste Grandpa’s cooking and Mummy didn’t have much.  I ate my body weight in fruit and wish I hadn’t today – sore nappy region.  TMI?  Sorry, but it’s a post about barfing and poo, and new parents love talking about that!

CB x

Toddler Dance - I've Got The Beat!

I got told off today, by proxy.  How rubbish is that?!  Mummy went out for lunch while I was at nursery and was harangued on my behalf by Grandma and Auntie B because I’ve not been writing so much recently.  It’s true, I haven’t been as prolific as late so I guess I owe you all an apology.

I am sorry, loyal readers and beloved family.  It’s no excuse, but things have been pretty hectic around here recently.  Mummy’s been hogging the computer a bit because she’s trying to set up a business so I haven’t had much of a sniff to write.  And it’s been so long since I’ve been on Twitter, I’m not sure I can even remember my password!

Anyway, the good news is, Mummy’s almost ready to go and she’s going to buy her own laptop which means Daddy and I can have the old one back.

So while I’m here, I’ll tell you about my dancing.  Have you seen Chuggington?  It’s a fab little programme on CBeebies about trains, always with a nice little moral tale.  It’s ok, but it’s the titles that are worth waiting for.  The beat just takes me, every time!

I think I must ‘feel’ music differently from The Olds – they’re so stiff and boring!  I like to use every part of my body to express myself.  Just let the music do its thing.  Sometimes I even get close to a rhythm!  (Otherwise, I’m dancing like Mummy!)

I groove in the car when Daddy plays his Rock, although I find the straps a bit restrictive.  At least you can do justice to Daddy’s music by nodding your head backwards and forwards forcefully.  I get to hear other stuff, too – sometimes classical, sometimes kiddy songs, sometimes mainstream pop.  Mummy was a Britpop fan, so I’m getting into that now but it’s not that easy to dance to. 

My friend and I have also recently discovered that we can dance together, too, so we row our boats together, or do Ring O’ Roses.  I like falling down!  And now I can wind a bobbin with the best of them, there’s no stopping me.

So what gets your toddlers’ feet tapping?

CB x

Baby Baking - You Get The Picture

I had a great time this week at my friend’s house, Baby Baking!  Not baking babies, of course, but we, the babies, doing the baking.  Of biscuits.

My friend’s mummy is very organised and she had a bowl for each of us, our own wooden spoon, we all used our own ingredients.  Mixing wasn’t really my forte – it might be better described as ‘pounding’ – but it was great fun!  Mummies helped a bit, just to make sure the lumps were evenly spread to the biscuits were edible.

We baked them before lunch, let them cool while we chowed down, and then the artistic brilliance began with icing the biscuits.  Wow! Who knew making mess could be so sticky?! Now, our attention span, being small, meant that we didn’t ice long before we started kicking a ball around.  That meant the mummies had a bit of time to ‘salvage’ the biscuits.

And here they are!  Ta-dah!

What have your little ones been creating this week?

CB  x

Tips For Delaying Babies' Bedtime

If you ask Mummy, I've been playing up at bedtime recently.  I disagree. I think it's more well thought out logic applied to staying up a little later, now that I'm a big girl.

We've had a bedtime routine since I was a very tiny baby; bath, story, cuddles, bed.  That's still great, and I still like all of that (usually) but I'm quite into books at the moment so I negotiate for more than one at bedtime.  Well, I say 'negotiate,' but in fact I mean demand.  We're averaging about four a night at the moment.  It's quite obvious though, and Mummy sees it coming now.

So, little people, if you want to grab those extra few minutes in the evening, here are my more subtle tips:

1.     Refuse a cuddle.  Before my bath, I stop talking to Daddy.  I won't say goodnight to him, and I go to my room.  Mummy's then trying to proceed with Bedtime, and I get very remorseful suddenly.  I cannot possibly even contemplate going to sleep without saying goodnight to Daddy, and I make sure the wailing says that loud and clear.  There's obviously the making-up time, too, for giving him the cold shoulder earlier, so he gets a special Chatty Baby 'doddle' with arms round his neck and everything!

Now, I think there is a 'life' to this ploy too, because Daddy's starting to come in to say goodnight to me before lights out, but come on, it took them long enough to cotton on!

2.     Cry Poo! This one is a dead cert, mark my words.  I like to use this one just as soon as Mummy turns the light out.  It cannot fail to bring one or other of them back in, even if they think I'm kidding - they daren't risk leaving me in a dirty nappy all night.  I only ever wee at that time of day, but they never know.  It can be quite uncomfortable saving the wee up through all those stories, but it's worth it.

3.     Put your own babies to bed.  I have so many teddies and dolls in my bed at the moment, there's hardly any room for me!  Each night, I'm crying for another one to join the happy gang, then before I'll even contemplate sleep, I have to make them all comfortable.  That might mean giving them my pillow, it might mean wrapping them in blankets to keep them warm.  Whatever you did last night, try something else tonight.  Keep parents on their toes!

Good luck, babies!  (And if you have any other crackers, be sure to let me know!)

CB x

You Get The Picture!

This week, You Get The Picture is doubling up because I’m also entering the Yummy Food competition over at A Boy With Asperger's  with Appliances Online – draw your favourite food, link up, and have the chance to win £100 in Amazon vouchers.  Not bad, eh?  Must look into sorting out some prizes myself.

Mummy helped me with my favourite foods. In fact, it’s my Grandpa’s broccoli and cauliflower cheese, but Mummy didn’t think she could draw that so you’ve got a strawberry, a banana and a cupcake, coloured in by moi.

By all means link up with A Boy With Asperger’s too, or draw/paint/create whatever you like and just add it below. I really love seeing them.

Playing With Baby Dolls

I mentioned earlier this week that I have a great fondness for baby dolls.  It’s got Mummy very excited that her toddler is playing with dolls and engaging with role play.  Apparently another milestone, or something.

It doesn’t seem like make-believe to me, but at least my baby neither cries when she’s hungry not objects if I toss her aside when something more interesting comes up. I take my duties very seriously, shoving the bottle in the general direction of a plastic mouth that doesn’t open and wrapping them up in a towel if I can’t find a blanket when I need one.

The ‘developmental leap’ is that I, or any other toddler pretending when they play, is that I’ve learned to imagine something is something else.  Like the box is a bed, or my bib is a face-cloth.  I’m learning empathy and how it feels to be a mummy (it’s actually quite hard work!) and also that I can be anything I want; when I’ve had enough of being a mummy, I can go and get a hat and be a fireman or a builder.  I don’t really know what either of them does yet, other than they wear cool hats!

I’ve been demanding my two babies every night for a while now, and I won’t sleep without them.  They come everywhere with me, if I remember, including nursery.  Imagine then my surprise and delight in seeing a room full of babies (dolls) when I arrived at ‘school’ this week, along with all the paraphernalia that goes with them; high chair, bed, blankies, nappies and clothes.  I love clothes!  I ditched my piddly little dolls over my shoulder without a second glance.

I was still busy caring for the plastic babies when Mummy collected me at the end of the day.

CB x

You Get The Picture

Another week, another poster paint extravaganza! This week, Mummy bought a bumper art pack and we had a go at stamping. I found the pre-cut shapes a little too prescriptive - I prefer freestyle!

Do link up any artwork your little ones have done, whatever medium they like to work in.

Shoesday Tuesday (on Thursday)

A like a good meme, and this one (Shoesday Tuesday) sounds like a GOOD meme!  I realise it’s actually Thursday but I’ve just discovered it and I just can’t wait till next week.

So here it is. I love shoes.  A lot!  I love choosing my own shoes, I love playing with other people’s shoes, and I have an eye for a beauty.  I was building up a nice little collection (nothing like Mummy’s, but then she has a few years on me) and then would you believe, my feet have grown! I’m back to square one!

I chose myself a pretty red pair at the shoe shop, and Mummy got me some more flashing trainers, but my photos this time are of my ‘old’ shoes.

These are my every day shoes, a couple of pairs to cover all my outfits.  Both Clarks, you can’t go wrong.

These boots were made for walking, and that’s just what they did. With short skirts, with shorts and tights (yup, I’m with it, down with the kids) or even skinny jeans.  Thank you, Sainsbury’s, for bringing these into my life.

My trainers.  The flowers flash on impact so they look really cool when I'm running around.  Mummy's tried to show you that by keeping the flash off, but it doesn't really show up. Clark's again.

And finally my party shoes.  They don’t really need an introduction; they sparkle, they party, I boogied on down in them, so much so that I started rubbing off the sequins on the toes.  My fault, not Monsoon’s.

So there you have it.  Always up for talking about shoes.  Have a look at some others at Blue Bear Wood.

CB x

Baby Talk - Learning To Communicate

We were talking earlier this week (well, technically the mummies were talking while we babies had lunch) about speech and words and language, and our capabilities.  One yummy mummy had read that by 18 months, we should have at least discernable six words that we can use in context.

I’m getting there with my speaking, but whilst I think I’m pretty good, it seems that not all my words are technically English, so I thought it would be quite fun to record them now.  Well, Mummy thought. Some might well be absorbed into our family lexicon, but Mummy didn’t want to risk losing the others with her forgetfulness.

So, everyone have a laugh at the baby:

Bit – loosely, a biscuit but can be used for any other treaty-type thing

Dildo – next door’s cat (he’s registered at the vet as Dylan)

Knob-knob – a man.  Something I heard Daddy say and repeated; Mummy laughed so I’ve said it again

Muck – a white drink, preferably served warm

Peace – good manners, as in, “Muck. Peace,” rather than, “Muck” on its own, or, “Muck. Now!”

Poo – a universal word for any nappy bi-products

Sick – banging tunes on Daddy’s iPod, sometimes on the radio – for dancing to

Tattoo – conveys gratitude on receipt of a bit, muck, or anything else I’ve asked for

Tit – this is the command I give Hairy Dog when I’d like him to put his bottom on the ground

I have more conventional words like Mummy and Daddy, cat, bat, bird, car, all the regular animal sounds etc, but as they actually sound like the English word they’re supposed to, I guess they’re not at all funny.

CB x