Forgotten Friday

There are lots of things I have forgotten.

I have forgotten what it feels like to come home from work and flop on the sofa.

I have forgotten how it felt to be able to blow over £100 on a pair of shoes and not blink.

I have forgotten how to dance into the wee small hours

I have forgotten want the packaging at Agent Provocateur looks like.

I have totally forgotten what not being tired feels like; I regularly anoint by body inside and out with caffine to get by!

I have also forgotten what life was like before Isobel; forgotten that there was ever a time when I wouldn't be picking unidentifiable goo out of hair and wiping something very identifiable from a bottom.

AND I have forgotten what it felt like before my heart grew a billion sizes.

Birthday Chaos

The party was fun.

HUGE as we shared it, but fun.

I was a little surprised how many parents just stood in the way of the entertainment rather than joining in; but I was also surprised at how many parents absolutely loved the Diddi Dance!



It was worth the nightmares.

No title does this justice

We had a fantastic weekend.

The climax of Isobel's birthday came on Sunday afternoon but more of the later.

Before that, on Saturday, the girls arrived with wine and junk food to help me with an erection.

Now, now don't be so smutty.

What Chantal and Carmen helped erect has provided more longevity that any other kind could!

Couldn't resist

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

(In)action girl

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Grown up?

Yesterday I underwent a minor surgical procedure; it was a follow up job so, against surgeons wishes I opted for a local anaesthetic. The last one was done under general and meant I had to be looked after.

This time I drove myself to hospital, and home again to pick up my little poppet.

Other than Isobel I went home alone.

Now, there is something awfully grown up about driving yourself to or from the airport or hospital, but it also kind of makes you feel a little unloved.

Oh, I'm ok. I have uncomfortable stitches, and people do care. It's just that lump in the throat moment as you walk out the door.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The longest birthday in history

It has to be said that Isobel is having one of the most epic birthdays -epic in DR Zhivago terms.

I mean I love it when cards (and gifts, especially gifts - whom I kidding) arrive late as it makes my birthday last longer, but I'm not really sure when 'obel's birthday started and it isn't over yet.

Did it start last Monday when her new too-cool-for-school trike arrived?  I had to give it to her, I'd been coveting since I was pregnant.

Was the beginning when we arrived at Grandma's on Friday and saw Jack-jack and Danel?  Or when Grandma and Grandpa gave her a lovely dolls house?  We have have been playing 'go wee-wee, washands' and 'teatime, comon dahling sit down' ever since.




Or maybe it was when her cousins arrived.

The 'wow' that greeted the Post Office given to her by my brother Ross and Amanda.  In fact she has been well trained, she 'wowed' at the card too. Not sure if the Post Office is realistic, it is only a post office not a Londis too.  Also, Isobel thinks the phonebox is actually a phone.

Perhaps, the tea party with family and Miss B and Annabel (quick aside: If Isobel is Miss B's goddaughter and Annabel is mine, does that make them godsisters?)





Maybe it was her actual Birthday on Monday, during which she did start singing 'birthday obel' to herself. Although I must say this was possibly her least exciting day.

Today, Diddi-dance sang happy birthday to her and we decorated party bags for the BIG PARTY that is coming up on Sunday.

Two today

Good morning little girl,

Happy birthday.

It seems very appropriate that today you have changed your song from 'twinkle, star, are up sky, twinkle twinkle' to ....

'birthday toyou, birthday obel, birthday toyou'.

I find myself a little lost for words as to what to say,which is unlike you with your constant stream of chatter and song. Be it 'obel's book gone' 'more milk pease mummy' or requests to get the paint out and do 'tainti' or asking if you will see 'Elish soon' or 'up mummy dance'.

It really is all going on. I can't believe you are two but I am excited about all the conversations we are yet to have.

I love you.

One day I will make you as proud of me as I am of you. Xx







- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Proof she wasn't scared of dogs before

OK, so this was taken over a year ago, but this is 'Jack,jack' my mums dog.

Isobel either spends her time patting him or telling him 'night-night' thereby sending him to his bed.

Yesterday I told Isobel that we would go and see him on Friday, she pointed to her face and said 'dog' again.

Hey ho I'm sure it will be fine, if I just RELAX about it....

Going to the dogs

I have lovely neighbours, beyond lovely neighbours, wouldn't swap them for the world neighbours.

But on Monday we had a bit of an incident.

As they often do, next door had taken in a parcel for me (this postal service isn't why I love them, but it helps an Internet shopaholic like myself). Isobel and I popped round to collect the parcel.

Their little dog Toffee came running out and knocked Isobel to the ground and while he didn't bite her face he did open his mouth.

I scooped little girl up, but for the next hour she kept pointing to her face and saying 'dog obel'. She even told her daddy.

Now, I'm not cross, I don't think the dog is dangerous (though I do get the fear if I think of possible outcomes - mutilation and the like), my neighbours are mortified; I am actually more concerned about making sure isobel isn't afraid of dogs,

We will pop next door and see toffee again.

Can anyone offer any advice? Please not about the dog, no muzzles etc, just about making sure my little girl remains phobia free.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Drinking and driving

I hope she isn't going to shmesco in her pjs.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Hip to be square

There is something about colouring in the lines that
makes me want to rebel a little.

But I am awfully proud that my little girl is mastering the art.

Well she colours particular bits.








- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Deal maker

Bartering and bargaining are two things I'm not particularly good at.

I love eBay but I get caught up in the auction and can often end up paying more than I meant.

The one time I visited a souk I got to freaked out by the attention that I got as a blonde foreigner to stand my ground and haggle. (that's not to say I wouldn't love to be one of those women who travels the world and has a house full of exquisite bargains to illustrate her tales.)

I have resolved, as a parent not to engage in haggling with my child, but all know what happens to those resolutions - we grow wiser!

Imagine my surprise this evening when I visited my unusually unsettled little girl in her room and she first presented me with her chattels and a request for 'mummy's bed', which was greeted with a no from me; where upon she re-adjusted her bid to a 'cuggle?'

She received her cuggle simply because I was stunned at her audacity.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Feel the love

Nursery really have a handle on this single parent thing, even if I am their only one.

I got a valentines card




But, (hmph) PD got one too...




They know that mummy is more special as mummy's had glitter

And, look at all the other hearts I got too




Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Potty training - lesson one

How to read on the loo.




As you can see, we haven't got to the 'lift lid' or 'remove tights' lessons yet.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Bedfellows

As a girl when you first share a bed with someone new you know it will certainly not be an unselfconcious event.

There may be nights of sleeplessness and tummy ache in an attempt to avoid any embarrassing draughts.

You may even get up to go to the loo in the middle of the night in order to not be overheard and perhaps to re-brush your teeth.

You will cling to the edge if the bed and accept even the smallest of token duvet corners so as to be a good bedfellow.

There would definately not be an invitation for others to join you at so early a stage.

When do we learn these rules?

Isobel comes into my bed; sleeps diagonally; snores loudly; brings with her twittwoo, tully and baby; and thinks nothing of her trumpet pj trousers.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

(practically) Wordless Wednesday

Fifteen minutes playing with rice and cups.



Thirty minutes playing clean up



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Voice coach required

I live in fear of becoming an ineffective parent, you know the sort, the children tend to be brats for whom they spend their lives making excuses. I don't know what's more annoying the cajoling and pleading for better behaviour or the bratty behaviour itself.

I just do not want to have a child that no-one wants to have around.

And so far I don't

But...

Isobel sometimes laughs when I say 'No' and there are some battles I really can't be bothered to fight.

I don't give into whining, I try to distract but there is an element of whining. Tantrums are short lived and definitely for show. Crying as her I leave her at nursery I am sure is now a habit.

While Isobel isn't a brat, I do know I have to be firmer.

I don't plead with her to let me change her nappy I just put a firm hand on her tummy and she stops wriggling; I don't beg her to get in the pushchair - I can get those straps on even with a struggle.

So, I'm not a complete push over.

I do think if perhaps my voice was less audible to dogs and dolphins I may get a better reaction.

Forgive me Supernanny for I have sinned

I have allowed my daughter to sleep in my bed.

Just the once mind.

I'm not sure where she gets it from

But my daughter is very bossy.

It started with the Barbera Woodhouse esque command 'sit', whereby she would position me exactly where she wanted me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7lZnxrF694&feature=youtube_gdata

Then we had '(get) up'.

Now we have 'comon mummy'.

Or continuing with the dog training theme (no comment please) we had 'walk' whereby I would be led by the hand out of her way or in the direction I was obviously supposed to going.

Now we have 'carry'; 'dance'; and my favourite one of all

'cuggle'.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone