Oooh sale on at Green Kids nappies, I love their nappies...been using their anytimes as night time nappies first for dd and 4 years later they're just as fab at night for lil h :) :) :)
Don't forget to share the details of our a chance to win one of 2 Green Kids prize packs!
http://www.greenkids.com.au
Friday, 5 August 2011
Thursday, 23 June 2011
June
June already? Really? How utterly incomprehensible I quite refuse to believe that is is in fact June and I demand evidence. Have you looked out of the window lately? grey and monsoon-esque rain does not a June make.
Did I ever warn you in advance that I am quite monumentally crap at updating these blogs?
So what is new you may ask? what indeed? The Baby is now 14 months of age and yet doesn't appear to have grown an iota in he last 8 months. No, really it's not one word of a lie, he's still wearing the same clothes and everything. He's been a walking for around 5-6 months now and yet still looks far too tiddly to be so mobile which invokes some rather bemused looks from random strangers, not that he actually walks outside that often. Although words are limited to the adorable 'Mama' which would be slightly more adorable if he didn't actually call everything it..... 'Dada', 'yeah', 'Again' and 'Bye Bye' however for some one of so few words he has a rather large gob and is not afraid to use it, at full volume. Food still remains to be predominantly something to play and throw with an amusing interlude for the recent addition of jelly, which is apparently hilarious when you poke it. The baby is unequivocally a boob junkie just like his sister and is still fed on demand night and day, sleeps next to me in bed and has yet to travel in a buggy as we simply adore our slings far too much. He's such a vibrant little chap and really is brighter then the sun.
Thing One & Thing two are thriving although squabbing incessantly having gone from topless 'gigging' to topless wrestling now complete with real 'ow's'. Thing Two is flourishing within nursery despite wanting spending all her time writing, she's a child obsessed. I will confess to feeling decidedly wibbly about the ever approaching September when she will disappear into full time school. Thing One had his first real accident which in turn gave me my first 'Is that Thing One's mum? It's the school he's had an accident ' Insert heart in throat. All was well though after a trip to the local walk-in centre and some surgical glue.
I'm ploughing through the trials of finding a decent Nursing bra and jeans that don't fall down the dreaded jelly belly and actually failing quite miserably which in itself is quite depressing.
Approximately five weeks until the summer holidays. There is not enough Valium in the world......................
Did I ever warn you in advance that I am quite monumentally crap at updating these blogs?
So what is new you may ask? what indeed? The Baby is now 14 months of age and yet doesn't appear to have grown an iota in he last 8 months. No, really it's not one word of a lie, he's still wearing the same clothes and everything. He's been a walking for around 5-6 months now and yet still looks far too tiddly to be so mobile which invokes some rather bemused looks from random strangers, not that he actually walks outside that often. Although words are limited to the adorable 'Mama' which would be slightly more adorable if he didn't actually call everything it..... 'Dada', 'yeah', 'Again' and 'Bye Bye' however for some one of so few words he has a rather large gob and is not afraid to use it, at full volume. Food still remains to be predominantly something to play and throw with an amusing interlude for the recent addition of jelly, which is apparently hilarious when you poke it. The baby is unequivocally a boob junkie just like his sister and is still fed on demand night and day, sleeps next to me in bed and has yet to travel in a buggy as we simply adore our slings far too much. He's such a vibrant little chap and really is brighter then the sun.
Thing One & Thing two are thriving although squabbing incessantly having gone from topless 'gigging' to topless wrestling now complete with real 'ow's'. Thing Two is flourishing within nursery despite wanting spending all her time writing, she's a child obsessed. I will confess to feeling decidedly wibbly about the ever approaching September when she will disappear into full time school. Thing One had his first real accident which in turn gave me my first 'Is that Thing One's mum? It's the school he's had an accident ' Insert heart in throat. All was well though after a trip to the local walk-in centre and some surgical glue.
I'm ploughing through the trials of finding a decent Nursing bra and jeans that don't fall down the dreaded jelly belly and actually failing quite miserably which in itself is quite depressing.
Approximately five weeks until the summer holidays. There is not enough Valium in the world......................
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Bugger.
Oh please tell me this isn't a preview of things to come, if so I do believe 2011 and I shall not be friends, let alone lovers.
The Baby had a rather disturbing episode in the early hours of the morning that consisted of insuppresable manic howling that was utterly impenetrable apart from random 2 minute respites before it started up again. Absolutely heartbreaking & yes I will admit to being somewhat frightened by it all. Utterly ghastly experience. He managed to pause long enough to have a good long feed and fell asleep on the boob so to speak and has been fine from therein. Most odd.
He's now reclined in my arms, cheekily sneeking in a pre-lunch boob, smiling around it looking positively darling whilst fiddling with my 'cables' (drawstrings of my NIN hoody) He's such a delightful little chappy.
The Girl Child spent a good ten minutes layering on her dressing up items, jewellery, bags, dress, wings, wand...only to strip them all off and put them away ten minutes later. I do believe my daughter is broken, she rarely dresses up, she doesn't play with her dolls and has no affinity to a particular toy other then a torch that she 'sometimes' sleeps with. However she is rather striking budding artist in the making and is impossibly obsessed with trying to write. Such an enchanting oddling.
My back is even worse today, oh the agony.
Ah peace at last The Boy Child and The Girl Child have ran up the stairs to 'do a gig' with their guitars and microphones, hopefully with clothes on this time.
The Baby had a rather disturbing episode in the early hours of the morning that consisted of insuppresable manic howling that was utterly impenetrable apart from random 2 minute respites before it started up again. Absolutely heartbreaking & yes I will admit to being somewhat frightened by it all. Utterly ghastly experience. He managed to pause long enough to have a good long feed and fell asleep on the boob so to speak and has been fine from therein. Most odd.
He's now reclined in my arms, cheekily sneeking in a pre-lunch boob, smiling around it looking positively darling whilst fiddling with my 'cables' (drawstrings of my NIN hoody) He's such a delightful little chappy.
The Girl Child spent a good ten minutes layering on her dressing up items, jewellery, bags, dress, wings, wand...only to strip them all off and put them away ten minutes later. I do believe my daughter is broken, she rarely dresses up, she doesn't play with her dolls and has no affinity to a particular toy other then a torch that she 'sometimes' sleeps with. However she is rather striking budding artist in the making and is impossibly obsessed with trying to write. Such an enchanting oddling.
My back is even worse today, oh the agony.
Ah peace at last The Boy Child and The Girl Child have ran up the stairs to 'do a gig' with their guitars and microphones, hopefully with clothes on this time.
Saturday, 1 January 2011
2011
Happy New Year? Well if this is a taste of the year to come I think 'll stick with 2010. Last night had the typical blitz of fireworks turning the area into Beirut , not that my middle name is killjoy (no honestly, it isn't) must people set fire works off randomly from 9pm onwards? Surely that defeats the object of New Years Eve and the whole midnight thing? Just saying....
Add to that the fact that for some reason unbeknown to me my back pain has reappeared (I'd say I missed you darling, but quite frankly I didn't) The Baby woke up twenty minutes after going to sleep and commenced howling and then decided to stay awake for 2 hours solid from about 5.40am onwards. To say the day improved from that point onwards would unfortunately be a lie. This morning was full of arguments with The Husband (although believe me I can think of some rather more colourful titles for him) and top it all off with an inconsiderate noisy neighbour and a somewhat disappointing tea.
To sum it up, 2011 is rather pants.
I may endeavour to do an obligatory summing up of 2010 at some point.
The Baby now has eye drops, not that he has become at all bothered by his gunktastic eyes but we'd left it the required time to give it a chance to heal au natural and it failed. I asked the rather nice young doctor to check his ears too (the baby's...not the doctors, I'm sure his ears are fine) as he keeps tugging at one yet we got the standard 'well they're a bit pink is all' answer. Last a doctor said that with regards to The Girl Child we ended up at a walk in centre within a day or two after with her howling in abject misery and those pinky ears were raging red inside by then.
It's interesting how peoples opinions divide on babywearing and indeed more so how they feel they simply must project their opinion onto you. As we crossed the road to the pharmacy some random pleb decided he had to stop me and say 'they're not nice, what if that should snap and that came unwound and that came undone, it's not safe' I must admit it was a rather impressive string of what if's that had to occur in a particular hazardous sequence and since we were in a hurry I didn't have time for my usual churlish retorts and had to shoot a quick 'well what if my tyre burst on my pram or what if i let go and it went into the road?' gave him the 'evil eye' and went on my merry way with The Baby looking jolly well comfy and happy in his sling, and why shouldn't he be? he's only ever been outside in a sling. Yet upon entering another shop some mild and eccentric woman started stroking his divine custom sling whilst waxing lyrical about how absolutely beautiful it was and how happy he looked, she looked most enchanted by it. People really are strange. Thankfully we've not had the 'oh darling are you still breastfeeding him?' My mums second son was fixated with 'bitty' jokes and is somewhat phobic of me feeding my baby in his vicinity (when The Girl Child was breastfed until 2years & 9months of age) though rather then phobic i think it's more of breastfeeding-ist. I'm sure the outlaws were amused by their hippy daughter in law dressing their youngest grandchild in an amber teething necklace and some delicious flongies made by a clever wahm. We won't even start with 'The Nappies' (as with The Girl Child we are obviously using reusables again)
I don't make resolutions for the New Year I think really you're just setting yourself up to fail but perhaps when I'm in less pain and have more inclination I may share some of the beginning plots out of neurosis that are bubbling in my mind.
Add to that the fact that for some reason unbeknown to me my back pain has reappeared (I'd say I missed you darling, but quite frankly I didn't) The Baby woke up twenty minutes after going to sleep and commenced howling and then decided to stay awake for 2 hours solid from about 5.40am onwards. To say the day improved from that point onwards would unfortunately be a lie. This morning was full of arguments with The Husband (although believe me I can think of some rather more colourful titles for him) and top it all off with an inconsiderate noisy neighbour and a somewhat disappointing tea.
To sum it up, 2011 is rather pants.
I may endeavour to do an obligatory summing up of 2010 at some point.
The Baby now has eye drops, not that he has become at all bothered by his gunktastic eyes but we'd left it the required time to give it a chance to heal au natural and it failed. I asked the rather nice young doctor to check his ears too (the baby's...not the doctors, I'm sure his ears are fine) as he keeps tugging at one yet we got the standard 'well they're a bit pink is all' answer. Last a doctor said that with regards to The Girl Child we ended up at a walk in centre within a day or two after with her howling in abject misery and those pinky ears were raging red inside by then.
It's interesting how peoples opinions divide on babywearing and indeed more so how they feel they simply must project their opinion onto you. As we crossed the road to the pharmacy some random pleb decided he had to stop me and say 'they're not nice, what if that should snap and that came unwound and that came undone, it's not safe' I must admit it was a rather impressive string of what if's that had to occur in a particular hazardous sequence and since we were in a hurry I didn't have time for my usual churlish retorts and had to shoot a quick 'well what if my tyre burst on my pram or what if i let go and it went into the road?' gave him the 'evil eye' and went on my merry way with The Baby looking jolly well comfy and happy in his sling, and why shouldn't he be? he's only ever been outside in a sling. Yet upon entering another shop some mild and eccentric woman started stroking his divine custom sling whilst waxing lyrical about how absolutely beautiful it was and how happy he looked, she looked most enchanted by it. People really are strange. Thankfully we've not had the 'oh darling are you still breastfeeding him?' My mums second son was fixated with 'bitty' jokes and is somewhat phobic of me feeding my baby in his vicinity (when The Girl Child was breastfed until 2years & 9months of age) though rather then phobic i think it's more of breastfeeding-ist. I'm sure the outlaws were amused by their hippy daughter in law dressing their youngest grandchild in an amber teething necklace and some delicious flongies made by a clever wahm. We won't even start with 'The Nappies' (as with The Girl Child we are obviously using reusables again)
I don't make resolutions for the New Year I think really you're just setting yourself up to fail but perhaps when I'm in less pain and have more inclination I may share some of the beginning plots out of neurosis that are bubbling in my mind.
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
The soapbox
So alas Christmas has been and gone yet again, another year is waning into the past out of reach. The Children were acceptably excitable with their hoard of gifts and The Baby was inexplicably obsessed with The Girl Child's Snow White dress (I rather hope this isn't indicative of a future character trait, not that I'd have issues with him wearing a dress but blue and gold is rather crass)
Other then the rather annoying Royal Mail debacle (they lie....) everything would appear to have occurred without a hitch, presents wrapped in time and enjoyed, the tree has miraculously remained upright despite a rather curious baby and a major bonus is that I managed to not poison any of us with the turkey.
However I am quite stricken by the numerous accounts I find online of mere Children receiving ludicrously adult gifts such as iphones and laptops, for Christmas. Whatever happened to crayons and puzzles and board games? Why the hurry to endorse adult ideals and past times on their sponge like and ever expanding minds? If you get say a 6 year old their own ds or indeed an 8 year old an itouch, what on earth would one get them next year? The Boy Child asked for a DS and yet he doesn't actually know what one is other then an implement to 'play games on' and since he (and indeed us) can't afford said games it seemed a rather redundant and extravagant gift so we opted for a retro Sega thing with 20 games already on it which he is positively charmed by and actually didn't quite realise it wasn't an almighty ds. In fact I'd hazard a jolly good guess that i it wasn't for his school friend he'd not even know the term 'ds' or 'wii'. Mayhaps there are too many parents who rather then share a child's passion they encourage the child to share theirs. Are children being denied the art of play and the craft of imagination? Childhood is so mortally short, it should be fed and nurtured. There's plenty of time for these gifts to satiate the ever ungrateful and demanding things called teenagers.
Oh dear this appears to be a rather churlish entry doesn't it? Especially as I'm about to endeavour to translate to you another rant of mine.
Kindles. I'm sorry but they're simply ghastly contraptions. I'm all for a bit of technology, in fact I'd blow one of Santa's elves (& swallow) for an iphone, I'd possibly consider giving Santa Darling a toe job despite my vivid and colourful phobia of feet for one too. However, some things should simply remain sacred. I adore books, new books, old books fat books, thin books. There's something delicious and soulfully explicit about a book, it's texture and weight, the type face, the hole ritual of turning the pages, the creased spines and bent pages, the smudged lines and something innately comforting about grabbing one when in bed, curled up on the sofa, in the bath....on a bus or train or sat on a park bench. I fear that the kindle will be somewhat married in essence to the e-mail, where instant gratification endears itself to people and through it we lose the art and patience of that which should be personal. I love e-mails as good as anyone yet nothing can beat the arrival or a real handwritten letter, yet with the invention of the e-mail by the time a letter arrived people have already exchanged news ten times via and e-mail and then the ultimate in personal communication terrorism. We don't even have to ask how a person fares anymore as through instant updates and witterings we can become a mere ghost voyeur of their life without having to mine nor act for the divulgence of details which in turn makes people accept things more at face value. Through being told someone is shopping and cooking and watching tv we accept that they are okay and forget to ask how they are & what they're feeling.
So much is lost.
I still have letters somewhere from my childhood. I find it inexplicably hard to throw away something handwritten, just for me. I cherish the thought, time, effort and personal investment of these from the person who wrote them, for me and only me. The more vivid and colourful pictures the words paint as they fill in the time and space that you were not an audience to.
Perhaps I've intertwined them too much but I feel just as strongly about books. E-books seem so crass. I'm not saying they don't have their place and appeal for some people but I guess what i'm trying to say is they're not for me.
Maybe I'm a hypocrite, after all despite my great affection for that seductive 'hiss' of a vinyl LP, i own over 200 CD's and am shortly about to rip most of them to a shiny new mp3 player when it arrives. As amused as I am by the old dial phones of my childhood, i own a cordless phone and a mobile. I guess it would just be nice if some things were left sacred.
Other then the rather annoying Royal Mail debacle (they lie....) everything would appear to have occurred without a hitch, presents wrapped in time and enjoyed, the tree has miraculously remained upright despite a rather curious baby and a major bonus is that I managed to not poison any of us with the turkey.
However I am quite stricken by the numerous accounts I find online of mere Children receiving ludicrously adult gifts such as iphones and laptops, for Christmas. Whatever happened to crayons and puzzles and board games? Why the hurry to endorse adult ideals and past times on their sponge like and ever expanding minds? If you get say a 6 year old their own ds or indeed an 8 year old an itouch, what on earth would one get them next year? The Boy Child asked for a DS and yet he doesn't actually know what one is other then an implement to 'play games on' and since he (and indeed us) can't afford said games it seemed a rather redundant and extravagant gift so we opted for a retro Sega thing with 20 games already on it which he is positively charmed by and actually didn't quite realise it wasn't an almighty ds. In fact I'd hazard a jolly good guess that i it wasn't for his school friend he'd not even know the term 'ds' or 'wii'. Mayhaps there are too many parents who rather then share a child's passion they encourage the child to share theirs. Are children being denied the art of play and the craft of imagination? Childhood is so mortally short, it should be fed and nurtured. There's plenty of time for these gifts to satiate the ever ungrateful and demanding things called teenagers.
Oh dear this appears to be a rather churlish entry doesn't it? Especially as I'm about to endeavour to translate to you another rant of mine.
Kindles. I'm sorry but they're simply ghastly contraptions. I'm all for a bit of technology, in fact I'd blow one of Santa's elves (& swallow) for an iphone, I'd possibly consider giving Santa Darling a toe job despite my vivid and colourful phobia of feet for one too. However, some things should simply remain sacred. I adore books, new books, old books fat books, thin books. There's something delicious and soulfully explicit about a book, it's texture and weight, the type face, the hole ritual of turning the pages, the creased spines and bent pages, the smudged lines and something innately comforting about grabbing one when in bed, curled up on the sofa, in the bath....on a bus or train or sat on a park bench. I fear that the kindle will be somewhat married in essence to the e-mail, where instant gratification endears itself to people and through it we lose the art and patience of that which should be personal. I love e-mails as good as anyone yet nothing can beat the arrival or a real handwritten letter, yet with the invention of the e-mail by the time a letter arrived people have already exchanged news ten times via and e-mail and then the ultimate in personal communication terrorism. We don't even have to ask how a person fares anymore as through instant updates and witterings we can become a mere ghost voyeur of their life without having to mine nor act for the divulgence of details which in turn makes people accept things more at face value. Through being told someone is shopping and cooking and watching tv we accept that they are okay and forget to ask how they are & what they're feeling.
So much is lost.
I still have letters somewhere from my childhood. I find it inexplicably hard to throw away something handwritten, just for me. I cherish the thought, time, effort and personal investment of these from the person who wrote them, for me and only me. The more vivid and colourful pictures the words paint as they fill in the time and space that you were not an audience to.
Perhaps I've intertwined them too much but I feel just as strongly about books. E-books seem so crass. I'm not saying they don't have their place and appeal for some people but I guess what i'm trying to say is they're not for me.
Maybe I'm a hypocrite, after all despite my great affection for that seductive 'hiss' of a vinyl LP, i own over 200 CD's and am shortly about to rip most of them to a shiny new mp3 player when it arrives. As amused as I am by the old dial phones of my childhood, i own a cordless phone and a mobile. I guess it would just be nice if some things were left sacred.
Friday, 24 December 2010
Jingle Bells, Batman Smells..Robin's ran away. Uncle Willy shot his willy on the motorway.
Where is this year going, on the one hand it seems like The Baby has been with us forever and yet how can he be a whole eight months old already? I find it strange to think that this time last year he was inside of me. He's such a charming little boy, he really is the sunshine in a world of grey. He's desperately intent on being as mobile as possible, having not been happy at simply mastering rolling, he decided within a few weeks to crawl, pull up and cruise. He's now practising the new art of standing when we let go of him, something he can manage for a mightily impressive 40 seconds. In fact he's realised now that he doesn't have to 'fall' when he feels his balance waning he either grabs onto something or else simply bends his knees and sits down instead. Awfully clever. Takes after his Mummy, obviously.
He keeps eyeing gaps and spaces with a shuffling of his feet as if to look and think about crossing a difference will over-ride his actual inability to walk should he attempt it. The arrogance of him assuming abilities that are so far beyond him, comes from Daddy.... obviously.
The Boy Child had a class trip to a local church upon which he declared it was 'too jesusy' that's our little Heathen! He's also decided that at yes, age 6, he has a death/thrash/black metal band called 'Raining Metal ' he will wear on stage red leather pants, a black leather jacket, bullet belt and cocks paint (the darling meant corpse paint, bless) His first three songs will be called Suffocation, Certain Death and........ Eat Shit. Upon getting home from school he'll say the obligatory hello's then run upstairs shouting 'I'm doing a gig' ripping his shirt from his torso he'll wear his guitar, topless, in his room with the lights off and Iron Maiden blaring on his tv and video (yes, Video...we're awfully retro don't you know) He's an absolute maiden geek and frequently bores the pants off of us with random facts. He knows who's written what, he performs it and even their personal headbanging style He's currently practising writing in the Slayer font.
The Girl Child has taken to nursery tremendously albeit surprisingly well. However, we're not actually sure that she talks there which is a shame as she's been talking fluently and rather frighteningly well since she was a young toddler. She's still such a darling yet with an edge of precociousness about her and a need to constantly correct people. Her sarcasm skills are also blooming and she is the absolute queen of sulking. She's currently obsessed with art and writing which she is actually teaching herself, clever little critter that she is.
The Husband is definitely a keeper, whilst I was contemplating the grim prospect of the beast of our turkey and the giblet situation he gallantly charged in and pronounced 'it's okay I'll fist the bird for you and get them out' My Hero. This gallantry may or may not however be connected to his vendetta against The Turkey after all 6.6kg of it in it's frozen state turned his big toe rather black when it fell upon it. His extraordinary stamina and immunity is persisting to such an extent that once again he bemoans about the fact everybody gets ill except for him and that he'd quite like his turn for once. He is indeed the exact opposite to me and my especially shoddy immune system that culminated in me having a horrific cough for over four weeks straight, god bless Ventolin I say. Indeed.
Well best go, presents to lay out and a somewhat tired and agitated baby with gammy eyes.
He keeps eyeing gaps and spaces with a shuffling of his feet as if to look and think about crossing a difference will over-ride his actual inability to walk should he attempt it. The arrogance of him assuming abilities that are so far beyond him, comes from Daddy.... obviously.
The Boy Child had a class trip to a local church upon which he declared it was 'too jesusy' that's our little Heathen! He's also decided that at yes, age 6, he has a death/thrash/black metal band called 'Raining Metal ' he will wear on stage red leather pants, a black leather jacket, bullet belt and cocks paint (the darling meant corpse paint, bless) His first three songs will be called Suffocation, Certain Death and........ Eat Shit. Upon getting home from school he'll say the obligatory hello's then run upstairs shouting 'I'm doing a gig' ripping his shirt from his torso he'll wear his guitar, topless, in his room with the lights off and Iron Maiden blaring on his tv and video (yes, Video...we're awfully retro don't you know) He's an absolute maiden geek and frequently bores the pants off of us with random facts. He knows who's written what, he performs it and even their personal headbanging style He's currently practising writing in the Slayer font.
The Girl Child has taken to nursery tremendously albeit surprisingly well. However, we're not actually sure that she talks there which is a shame as she's been talking fluently and rather frighteningly well since she was a young toddler. She's still such a darling yet with an edge of precociousness about her and a need to constantly correct people. Her sarcasm skills are also blooming and she is the absolute queen of sulking. She's currently obsessed with art and writing which she is actually teaching herself, clever little critter that she is.
The Husband is definitely a keeper, whilst I was contemplating the grim prospect of the beast of our turkey and the giblet situation he gallantly charged in and pronounced 'it's okay I'll fist the bird for you and get them out' My Hero. This gallantry may or may not however be connected to his vendetta against The Turkey after all 6.6kg of it in it's frozen state turned his big toe rather black when it fell upon it. His extraordinary stamina and immunity is persisting to such an extent that once again he bemoans about the fact everybody gets ill except for him and that he'd quite like his turn for once. He is indeed the exact opposite to me and my especially shoddy immune system that culminated in me having a horrific cough for over four weeks straight, god bless Ventolin I say. Indeed.
Well best go, presents to lay out and a somewhat tired and agitated baby with gammy eyes.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
Hello again
So much time passing and at such speed it slips through my fingers. & still that feeling of not justifying it's passing and doing life a disservice through my lack of textual attention to it's ups and downs.
The Baby is now rolling both ways which is awfully fun for him, however despite doing enough sit-ups to have ab's of steel he is yet to sit unaided. You sit him up and he rather amusingly wibbles and wobbles but unlike a weeble he does indeed fall down. He is tremendously close to the art of crawling and as such has a tendancy to get rather pissed off at his inability to nail it. He can get right up on his knees, and face plant on the floor...he can get on the tips of his toes and the flats of his hands and he can shunt and army crawl backwards which is fabulously funny to watch despecially as he can scale the length of half the room that way.
Oh and my god the shouting, he does indeed have a cracking pair of lungs on him and isn't shy of using them with this brain tazering shout that is akin to a crow being brutally murdered.
He is ever nearing the half birthday when I shall be forced to start weaning, we're bypassing that pesky unecessary puree stage and going straight on to real foods which he shall feed himself. This worked wonderfully well with The Girl Child yet I fear it was so long ago that i'm quite at a loss of where to start as am suffering from a tad of anxiety not singularly created by the fact The Baby is simply growing up too fast!
He's still co-sleeping and a boobie-monster which I can't see changing anytime soon and nor would I wish it too and he is still as of yet not been in his pram as we favour the sling.
I have a curious addiction to fluff, that is to say cloth nappies which I obsess and lust over making me painfully aware of how much i've changed. Once it was cd's, pvc, hair dye and velvet Icovetted andn now it's cheap funky cloth nappies from China.
The Boy Child has settled in nicely into year 2 as far as we are aware though it will be interesting to say the least to talk to his teacher at parents evening seeing as he continues to be increasingly hard work to live with at home. He is delightfully cute, handsome, funny, lively, friendly and clever and yet he's obnoxious, back chatting, disrespectful, distractful, impulsive, rude and begs the question of wether he is in control of his behaviour or wether perchance it may be indeed controlling him.
The Girl Child has started nursery and by some strike of luck appears to adore it, we genuinley thought it would be incredibly hard for her but as usual you goes above and beyond to surprise us. She is attending two mornings a week for now as depsite being entitled to five half days i'm painfully aware that once they start reception they're in the school system full time for the next ten years so i'm enjoying her at home, she's such an agreeable little child (& frightfully clever)
The Husband is disturbingly swinging between Jekyll and Hyde, exploding one minute and baking cakes with 'I Luv You' in chocolate chips on the top of next...simply boggling. Still he makes a rather decent cake so shan't complain, for now.
I guess that just leaves yours truly, how am I? well quite, how *am* I indeed? I beg you to tell me for I don't really know. I suppose that then begs the question of who am I too to which I don't know the answer to that either. I feels fuzzy at the edges and faded in the middle and eerily vacant on the inside. Bother bother bother.
The Baby is now rolling both ways which is awfully fun for him, however despite doing enough sit-ups to have ab's of steel he is yet to sit unaided. You sit him up and he rather amusingly wibbles and wobbles but unlike a weeble he does indeed fall down. He is tremendously close to the art of crawling and as such has a tendancy to get rather pissed off at his inability to nail it. He can get right up on his knees, and face plant on the floor...he can get on the tips of his toes and the flats of his hands and he can shunt and army crawl backwards which is fabulously funny to watch despecially as he can scale the length of half the room that way.
Oh and my god the shouting, he does indeed have a cracking pair of lungs on him and isn't shy of using them with this brain tazering shout that is akin to a crow being brutally murdered.
He is ever nearing the half birthday when I shall be forced to start weaning, we're bypassing that pesky unecessary puree stage and going straight on to real foods which he shall feed himself. This worked wonderfully well with The Girl Child yet I fear it was so long ago that i'm quite at a loss of where to start as am suffering from a tad of anxiety not singularly created by the fact The Baby is simply growing up too fast!
He's still co-sleeping and a boobie-monster which I can't see changing anytime soon and nor would I wish it too and he is still as of yet not been in his pram as we favour the sling.
I have a curious addiction to fluff, that is to say cloth nappies which I obsess and lust over making me painfully aware of how much i've changed. Once it was cd's, pvc, hair dye and velvet Icovetted andn now it's cheap funky cloth nappies from China.
The Boy Child has settled in nicely into year 2 as far as we are aware though it will be interesting to say the least to talk to his teacher at parents evening seeing as he continues to be increasingly hard work to live with at home. He is delightfully cute, handsome, funny, lively, friendly and clever and yet he's obnoxious, back chatting, disrespectful, distractful, impulsive, rude and begs the question of wether he is in control of his behaviour or wether perchance it may be indeed controlling him.
The Girl Child has started nursery and by some strike of luck appears to adore it, we genuinley thought it would be incredibly hard for her but as usual you goes above and beyond to surprise us. She is attending two mornings a week for now as depsite being entitled to five half days i'm painfully aware that once they start reception they're in the school system full time for the next ten years so i'm enjoying her at home, she's such an agreeable little child (& frightfully clever)
The Husband is disturbingly swinging between Jekyll and Hyde, exploding one minute and baking cakes with 'I Luv You' in chocolate chips on the top of next...simply boggling. Still he makes a rather decent cake so shan't complain, for now.
I guess that just leaves yours truly, how am I? well quite, how *am* I indeed? I beg you to tell me for I don't really know. I suppose that then begs the question of who am I too to which I don't know the answer to that either. I feels fuzzy at the edges and faded in the middle and eerily vacant on the inside. Bother bother bother.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)