My Name Is Beth

It's FREEZING

2012-02-03T18:53:00.003Z

I'm slowly getting the feeling back in my fingers after deicing the guinea pigs' water and making them as warm as possible for the night. It's so cold that Jacob hasn't removed his socks, his trousers or his jumper today; a situation which I don't think has ever before occurred. He keeps wrapping his arms around himself, shivering theatrically and exclaiming "It's FWEEZING COLD Mummy!".

I've just been trawling pictures of frozen waterfalls, fountains, rivers and even seas around the country, and if the snow holds off (or even if it doesn't) tomorrow, I'm going to get out with my camera to get some icy pictures. This frozen elephant at a garden centre in Essex was my favourite today.

via The Torygraph (not my reading material of choice, you understand)

Thanks goodness that for the first Friday in 3 weeks, our heating is working. Touch wood.

Note: Just as I finished typing this, Jacob took his socks off. I guess it must be time to turn the heating off again ;)

The things he says...

2012-02-03T00:47:00.000Z

Jamie has just returned to work after 3 months of (serious, but now manageable) illness. Jacob hasn't quite got used to him not being home:

"Daddy ...... oh no, you not Daddy. Mummy..."
"Mummy, we love Daddy SO much, eh?"
"Mummy, where's Daddy gone?" [hours after he's left the house]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Talking to his cats:

"Maeby, Maeby, where are you? Maybe you're under the table Maeby. Maybe Maeby's under the table Mummy!" [collapses into fits of giggles at the word play]
"Tilly, what you meowing about?"
"Tilly GET DOWN! [counts to ten on his fingers, very seriously] Tilly, get DOWN! I asked lots of times now"
"Mummy, where's those cats gone now? Maybe they having an adventure in the garden!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the car, he sits in the front seat next to me, because I work late and we more often than not come home in the dark. I like to be able to see if he's asleep or not, and it's far easier to have a conversation when he's right there. In the back, I can barely hear him, and it's too distracting trying to look at him in the rear-view mirror (rather too much context-setting there, but I just want you to imagine it right):

"Mummy, the sun's biting my eyes!"
"Look, two big sheep!" [I gently point out that they're ponies] "Oh. Jacob thought they were sheep, but they were big ponies. Little horses. Not sheep Jacob, silly Jacob."
"Mummy, I can't see the wheels! Where the wheels gone? We got no wheels!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jumping on my bed, while I get dressed. He keeps trying to open the curtains, I ask him not to because I'm about to take my pajamas off:

"I ... want ... to ... see ... some ... booooobies!" [repeated over and over in sing-song fashion with each and every bounce]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And for the boy whose stomach is never full, he said the following extremely seriously, approximately 10 minutes after he'd finished his breakfast this morning:

"Mummy, let's have a chat about lunch."

;)

Brown bear, brown bear...

2012-01-29T21:05:00.000Z

Jacob's current favourite game is getting all his people and animals out, and lining them up, or standing them in a circle so they can play the 'hokey-cokey' (which is just too cute for words).

But when he's had enough of that, he gets bored and grumpy and sad pretty quickly. I feel like I should be 'doing' more varied things with him, although if he wants to spend an hour constructing a precarious line of figures across the living room floor, all trying to pull a camel out of the mud, then who am I to suggest he should be doing something more productive?

We're getting right into the questioning stage, and his thirst for knowledge is already testing our intelligence. This week's gems have included:

"Mummy, who knows what happened to toast?"
"Mummy, who knows what's in Quorn pieces?"
"Daddy, what's a website?"

Today he set up his own activity of matching animals: he got out a set of animal magnets, went and got out his tray of animals, lay out the magnets, and began searching through the animals for matching ones to lay down on top. All unprompted. As it turned out, we only had a few animals which matched the ones on the magnets, so it was a short-lived game, and he wanted to do more matching.

Casting around for inspiration, I grabbed our 'Brown bear, brown bear' book, and challenged him to find five Things of the same colour for each animal. Results as follows:

Brown bear

Red bird

Yellow duck

Blue horse

Green frog

Purple cat

White dog

Black sheep

(He ran out of steam when we got to Goldfish, so we'll have to save that for another day)

He had a great time, he was so inventive with the objects he found for each colour, and it killed half an hour of a freezing cold, rainy day. It made me think that I should have some Montessori-type activities or similar out and available for Jacob to work with, when the mood strikes him.

A while ago, I bought the Toddler's Busy Book, which I really need to unearth for days like this. I'll be back to report more on what takes his fancy, any suggestions for similar activities will be gratefully received ;)

Charlie Brooker isn't right about everything

2012-01-14T18:46:00.002Z

A dear acquaintance of mine wrote a song which I would ordinarily agree with, which asserts that Charlie Brooker is right about everything. However, in his recent article in the Guardian he compares cupcakes unfavourably to all other baked goods. I have to disagree - although this is mostly because I could quite happily live off icing for the rest of my life and cupcakes seem to be the only desert upon which an unlimited amount of icing can be heaped.

I set off at dawn this morning for Ebbw Vale, heading up the Heads of the Valleys Road with the sun rising over the horizon in front of me. It was the first frosty morning we've had since the cold weather back at the start of Winter, and it was just beautiful.

My lovely friend Claire had won a cupcake making class, and asked me to join her at B Cake Studio in Ebbw Vale, where Angela makes gorgeous cakes and has just started these 4-hour classes. In a bizarre twist of coincidence, I was perusing the reduced Christmas aisle in Tesco yesterday, spied some beautiful Christmas cupcake napkins, and lamented the fact that they weren't reduced, as I would have bought them to put them away for next year. When I got home after the class today, I read Angela's blog to find that she made those very same cupcakes.

In a beautifully appointed kitchen in the basement of her family home, we sat around a central square unit and chatted about setting up small businesses (I'm sure Angela didn't expect to be doling out tax advice at the same time as teaching us to make cupcakes!) while we cut and coloured icing, baked vanilla and chocolate cupcakes, and made vanilla and chocolate icing before attempting to assemble them into some sort of professional-looking array. (The small business in question refers to the important question of What I Am Going To Do when I finish my job in July. One option involves making things along the lines of bunting etc. [oooh, there's a good etsy shop name] for children's bedrooms and weddings and ting).

It was so much fun, and getting to the final moment and finding that actually, the cakes looked pretty damn awesome, was so cool.

Angela took a picture of us on her fancy camera for her blog, which I'll update to link to when it's posted. We finished slightly early so that Claire could catch an earlier train back to Cardiff, and I set off for home (the drive was surprisingly quick and fun, especially as Jamie made me a mix CD to scream along at the top of my voice too). Jacob was still napping, but my bouncing excitement when I got home woke him up, and his little face on seeing the box of cupcakes was a sight to behold. I told him I'd been out making cakes with Amelia's Mummy all morning, and when I told him that he could have a cake he nearly exploded with joy.

The icing on the cake (see what I did there?) came in the form of a letter from the inland revenue, which I was too scared to open and made Jamie do for me. I soon snatched it off him when he read the word 'overpayment', and after some careful analysis (WHY do they phrase it as "Amount you owe us OR amount due to you" on the same line?) I found out that they'll shortly be sending me a cheque for two and a half thousand pounds . That'll be my start-up capital then...

Maybe it's Giants...

2012-01-10T20:39:00.000Z

When I dropped Jacob off at nursery this morning, he went in with his customary shoegazing reluctance, where I have to drop a kiss on his head and leave before I persuade myself that we should really just go home again (I don't need very much persuasion). I know that he's fine as soon as I've gone, he's always happy about going to nursery, happy while he's there, and reports happily upon his day; but those few seconds from me ringing the doorbell to him finding his best friends and diving headlong into whatever they're doing just tugs at my heartstrings, and make me wish more than anything that I could be a stay-at-home-mum.

This morning, the nursery manager laid her hand kindly on my arm (really, people shouldn't be allowed to do that, the gesture alone is enough to set me off) and reassured me by saying "Don't worry, he'll be singing happily to himself in a couple of minutes".

He loves music. He gets into the car, and says "I want to listen to something please Mummy!", or we'll be driving along and he'll say "I loved that song. What's it called?". Although strangely, he's not at all keen on listening to music in the house, he does like to sing all the time. He often sings in his sleep, and we have to wait to get him out of bed until he's been through his whole repertoire of songs.

Of course he loves nursery rhymes and theme songs for annoying CBeebies programmes, but he's also good at using snippets of songs he's heard in appropriate situations - for instance the "What's going to work, teeeeeeam-work" refrain from Wonder Pets gets sung all the time when he's helping us with a job. He shunned most Christmas music except for the Glee Christmas album (the first one only, he wasn't having anything to do with the second one) and all he really wanted to hear off that was their reworking of Jingle Bells.

We've done a good job at forcing our musical tastes upon him, but we're trying to be remotely responsible about it and avoid songs with too much inappropriate content - of course Jamie likes to model himself on Adam Buxton and do volume control censoring - if you haven't seen this video then watch it, it's hilarious:

(And in a timely fashion, Jamie has just pointed me in the direction of this amazing site which reworks classic album covers using clipart and comic sans - it's awesome).

So Jacob's current favourites include Art Brut, and there's nothing funnier than being in another room and hearing the boy sing quietly to himself "Bang, bang, rock and roll / I can't stand the sound / of the Velvet Underground" in a very serious voice. He also likes it when I play Scissor Sisters in the car, he thinks 'Take Your Mama Out' is funny because it has the word 'Mama' in it, and he generally loves Jake Shears' falsetto - "Listen to the girl songs Mummy, this your favourite song cos it's a girl song".

But top of Jacob's list of favourite bands for the last several months is undoubtedly They Might Be Giants. It took us ages to work out what he was talking about when he kept asking for the "Little blue bird house song", but he's got the hang of most of the song titles now. Our current difficulty is explaining the difference between band names and song names, he doesn't totally get it. He can never remember how to say 'They Might Be Giants', so he refers to them in adorable fashion as 'Maybe it's Giants' ;)

When Santa got stuck up the chimney...

2012-01-09T19:42:00.001Z

I know that technically, Christmas is over, but it's very difficult to convey that to a toddler. Jacob's favourite topics of conversation are still mainly centred around Santa and Christmas, and he sings Christmas songs all the time. He's developed a delightful habit of using the first line of a song to kick off a conversation, and to say each line of the song as though it were a question, while you prompt and question him about it. It is hilarious. And hasn't got old, even after the eleventy-millionth run through.

Prepare to melt at the utter adorableness:

For those of you who don't speak fluent Jacob, here's a translation:

"When Santa stuck up the chimney...
He began to shout...
The girls and boys won't have any toys...
No. My sack is... my beard is black, there's soot in my sack, yes, my nose is tickling too...
When Santa stuck up a chimney, he began to shout, achoo, achoo, achoo, and Santa's happy."

Holy comfort, Batman!

2012-01-08T14:51:00.000Z

A friend referred to the week between Christmas and New Year as 'Chrimbo Limbo' - hitting the nail right on the head (although I had my sister to stay, so it wasn't all bad). The week since New Year has been more of the same. Working right up until Christmas was a nightmare, and now having these two empty weeks with little to do has left us being too lazy for words - sitting around in our pyjamas all day playing with Jacob's new toys (not that that's a bad thing).

The daft thing is that I've got a million jobs that need doing around the house - I feel like the weight of all the clutter and mess everywhere is going to topple down on me at any moment. And yet, being a perfectionist (and a perfectionist who doesn't like to expend any energy to achieve perfection, at that), I can't actually start any jobs, because then the reality of how much there is left to do will crush me. At just the critical moment, I read this post on the lovely Whozat's blog, which suggested that you should pick the one most annoying/in-need-of-addressing thing in your house, and Just Do It.

Easy. The springs on our sofa went about 3 years ago. With a creak and a ping, poor Jamie was sitting in a hole. The rest of it was saggy and stained and uncomfortable, and we slowly built up the cushions with more cushions to try and ease the pain in our aching backs, until we were essentially sitting on a pile of cushions. (I'd like to emphasise that Jamie fell head-over-heels-top-to-bottom down the stairs during this time, and I'm sure the lack of seated support contributed to how long it took his back to heal.

For Christmas 2010, my parents gave us a contribution towards a new sofa, but over the last 12 months we haven't been able to scrape together the remaining funds to buy a new one, however cheap it was. On Thursday this week, we went to visit Jacob's girlfriend in Cardiff, and stopped off at Ikea on our way to Jamie's hospital appointment. For the first time, Jacob cottoned on to the concept of 'trying out sofas', and he merrily ran this way and that, clambering into chairs and onto sofas, sitting still for half a second, before shrieking "Now that one!" and running off to the next. This meant that we could actually try some sofas properly, and have a chat about finance and colours etc. And, we chose one. But being the indecisive people we are, we had to go home first to talk about it ... until we passed the clearance corner on our way out and spied the very sofa we'd just decided on, reduced by £150. Better still, they would deliver it and remove the old one, for the same price our council would charge to collect the old one, and they donate the used sofas to charity. Sold.

We then had a day to clear enough space to get the old sofa out, and the new sofa in. Did I mention that we hadn't put away any Christmas presents, and the decorations were still up? In one day we:

- took all the Christmas decorations down and packed them away.

- made a 'November Box' of things to get out of the loft pre-Christmas time - things like Advent calendars and Christmas crafts.

- dragged all of Jacob's toys out of their boxes, got rid of all the ones he doesn't play with, reorganised the ones he does and added in the new Christmas presents.

- labelled all his toy boxes (we have Trofast, and found that using the tray sized ones for things like Playmobil, animals etc with stickers on the side to denote what's in there means Jacob can tidy by himself - woop!).

- culled half his jigsaws to live in his bedroom, then they can rotate down here and we won't end up with 21 open boxes of jigsaws at the end of each day.

- cut open the back of the old sofa and found loads of hairbands and phones and disgusting tissues

- emptied the hallway of everything, to aid the moving men, and actually cleaned the carpets and skirting boards.

And just 36 hours after we paid for the sofa, we had a sparkling clean living room and hallway, and a beautiful, comfortable, supportive new sofa. Which Jacob has given his seal of approval to...

Thanks, Whozat, for the inspiration (I know you wrote an additional post decrying your organisational skills, but take the kudos, because you kicked our arses into gear and we're very thankful).

Victrola

2011-12-31T19:59:00.000Z

Happy New Year - health and happiness to all xxxx

A Happy Christmas

2011-12-31T19:56:00.001Z

My two loves

Jacob loved his main present from us - a robot which was a last minute cheap purchase from ebay, when I realised I wasn't going to be able to finish the blanket I had been making for him

Skyping with family. Technical issues meant we had to use the landline for audio ;)

My second head

Watching The Snowman before bed. My favourite time of the day - Jacob loved it

Christmas dinner (eaten on Boxing Day) - Jacob carefully inspecting the components

Midweek - staving off the cabin fever (the weather here is terrible) at soft play with my sister

Quiet, peaceful, happy - Christmas 2011

Nadolig Llawen i bawb

2011-12-24T22:00:00.000Z

I picked up these wooden reindeer thingies in the hobbycraft sale (yes, already), and wanted to do something with them quickly. I had a sheet of midnight blue felt and a load of star buttons, so I shoved them all on together, blanket stitched the edge, and embroidered 'Nadolig Llawen' (Merry Christmas in Welsh). I suck at embroidery, and this is just backstitched over paper (I used a scrap of wrapping paper, as it's so thin) which is then carefully torn away. I was really pleased with it.

Nadolig Llawen i bawb ;) xxxx

The stockings were hung...

2011-12-24T21:47:00.001Z

Today, Christmas took on a whole new meaning. We spent the morning playing elaborate train tracks and ransacking the entire house in a search for the remote control for the train (which I eventually found in the one toybox I deemed it wouldn't be in, so had left til last), only to realise that actually, it's far more fun to just push the trains around with your hands.

After a nap, Jacob and I burnt gingerbread (hey, at least he won't be hyped up on sugar all day...) and made a yule log in lieu of a proper Christmas cake, which only I would eat.

Jacob was so excited about the presents under the tree, and kept asking to give us one ("Just one for you Mummy"). After dinner, we wrote a letter to Santa, rolled it up and stuffed it in his stocking, which he hung by himself from the mantel [no chimney] with care. So different from last year, when he really had no idea what was going on, and was a bit overwhelmed by it all (a feeling I seem to be sharing this year); and the year before, when he was a baby of 9 months and we were all struggling through a horrendous gastric bug.

We're going through some tough challenges at the moment, behaviour-wise, which seems especially hard at this time of year. But when he's nice, he is such a wonderful person. "I luff yew Mummy", he says, grabbing my face with both hands and pulling me in for a kiss. He's so utterly charming, and cheeky, and wonderful, and I'm so blessed to have him. He went to bed late, but I'm wagering he'll be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to tell us that he heard Santa "Doing STOMP, STOMP, STOMP on the roof Mummy". He's been talking about it all day.

My heart.

Felt and blanket stitch

2011-12-23T00:24:00.002Z

Hobbycraft recently opened a store less than 3 miles from my house. This was obviously a bad move on their part, as it will no doubt bring about my eventual financial ruin, which they will then have on their conscious for the rest of their existence. Their Christmas crafting materials are amazing - usually I spend hours scouring ebay for buttons and ribbon and things, the postal costs of which usually exceeds their cost, so I end up not buying anything. So being able to drive to the store, chuck a load of stuff in my basket, and get back home in less than half an hour is blissful.

That is, apart from the cost. It is fairly-to-very expensive. A multi-pack of felt squares was £6.49, and I ummed and ahhed over it for ages, before leaving it on the shelf. I found a half-size pack in Tesco later on for just a couple of pounds, and since then I've been going felt-crazy. I love felt Christmas decorations. I love blanket stitch. But I've never tried to make any myself, until Pinterest popped into my life, with all its inspiration-providing goodness.

One of my wonderful Mummy-friends moved house recently, and as we were going over there today for our present-swap, I decided to knock up a lovely Christmas decoration as a housewarming present. 3 and a half short hours later, I'd produced this:

Blanket stitch is fun, but for a novice, it isn't quick. I was so pleased with the final product, that this evening I made this for myself. Holly buttons from Hobbycraft, ribbon from stash. And there's more to come. I need more days before Christmas!

Christmas crafts

2011-12-20T23:36:00.000Z

Ooooh, this new blogger template is a bit scary. I have no idea what I'm doing, forgive me if this post is filled with weird formatting.

I've been crafting pretty much constantly for the past few months. It's one of the main reasons my posts have been so sporadic recently as I've had no time for both, but it's frustrating as I did tons of autumn activities and crafts which I wanted to share, but felt like I should do so in a timely fashion, and that time has now passed. Still, there's always next year.

I came home unexpectedly early from work today, and had a leisurely catch-up with the blogs on my blogroll with my after-school cup of coffee, where I found this post about making paper lanterns. I'd forgotten how easy they were to make, and I had a whole stack of lovely Christmassy paper just crying out to be cut and pasted.

Fold, embellish edges, cut slits, double-sided tape one side, roll, and stick. Job done.

String up on beads, baffle the cats, enjoy the ANTM finale.

5 days to go.

Christmas is confusing

2011-12-04T20:37:00.004Z

We're waiting until later in the week to put up the decorations, but whilst dragging them out of the loft in readiness, we found this tiny tree which used to perch on top of the freezer (which lived in the lounge, great for easy ice-cream-access) in our first house together. In pulling it out of its bag (I was in the loft, Jacob was ~~attempting to climb the ladder~~ standing waiting patiently at the bottom of the ladder), I knocked a stocking through the loft hatch and onto his head. Jacob shouted "Jeeeeeeesus!". He's not one of these kids who repeats inappropriate things as soon as you say them, he stores them up for freaking months before trotting them out and then waiting angelically for the backlash.

"We don't say Jesus Jacob, that's not nice," (hmm, need to rephrase that really...).

"Yes it is nice", he says, nodding earnestly.

"No, we shouldn't shout that when we do something wrong. We should say 'Whoopsadaisy!'" I say, wanting to actually shoot myself for having got myself into this conversation and for the banality which is now coming out of my mouth.

Luckily, he got distracted by something shiny and trotted off elsewhere. It's a hell of a confusing time, Christmas: mixed messages about Jesus for a boy being brought up in an atheist household, with very-religious grandparents; confusion about who-the-hell-is-Santa-and-why-is-a-strange-man-coming-into-my-house-in-the-middle-of-the-night?; lotsnlotsnlots of shiny things sprouting out of the walls; and random old ladies suddenly asking you what you want for a present but then not giving you anything.

And today was nicely rounded off with trying to explain to Jacob about spaces between words. He was nicely tucked into bed, when he spotted the 'Merry Christmas' banner on his wall, and sat up again, saying "Pick me up Mummy, it's broken". I looked round in confusion, trying to figure out what he was talking about. "The letters Mummy, it's broken". I realised he was pointing to the space between Merry and Christmas, where yes, it looked like a letter had fallen off. I explained about words, and spaces, and sentences. I picked up a book, and showed him the spaces between all the words. I picked him up and held him up to the banner, showing him what sound each letter made, and how none were missing. He said "No Mummy, it's broken".

I agreed, and put him to bed.

Bang, Bang, Rock and Roll

2011-10-20T20:53:00.005+01:00

We went out last night, Jamie and I. Sister-in-law Rachel came to stay and mind the kid, while we caught a train to Cardiff, checked into a hotel, and went to see Totem Terrors, The Lovely Eggs and Art Brut at Clwb Ifor Bach.

Having spent the last week listening to Art Brut CDs in the car (which makes a pleasant change from The Wiggles, I must say), J-cub has become a hardcore fan of his Uncle Eddie, and spent all of Tuesday after nursery demanding "More Bang Bang Rock a Roll Mummy! Sing it!", and watching live Art Brut videos on youtube.

This gave me ample opportunity to get one of his rockstar moments captured on film for posterity:

Even though I'd been up since 6.30am for work, we went on to a club afterwards, where all the young hipsters sat around glaring at us while we, our friends from Bristol, and all three bands invaded the dance-floor and danced to our most favourite indie and pop/rock songs of the last 2 decades. Because being over thirty ROCKS. We knew the DJ, and two minutes after we walked in, he was playing Punka (because we are), and we didn't move from the dancefloor until the club shut at 2am. Then we loitered on the pavement outside til we were frozen solid at 3am.

Today, I am more tired than I could possibly imagine. But also, extremely happy.

Why I love SLINGS

2011-10-16T20:27:00.010+01:00

Voting through the ages - J-cub accompanying me into the polling booth aged 2 months, 14 months and 26 months.

I'm just catching International Babywearing week by the very skin of my teeth. The irony being, of course, that I haven't slung J-cub this week, or even for the memorable past. He walks around 2 miles a day quite happily, only requesting "Nicking him up Mummy!" if we come across a particularly deep patch of mud or thicket of brambles that he just can't splosh or fight through.

And whilst I miss his closeness, and the happiness that having him chattering over my shoulder gives me, I'm just as happy to see him haring off down a path, legs going like pistons, because he's seen the glint of a puddle in the distance or a bird has just flown away and he wants to talk to it. He's growing up, and I'm slowly selling or packing away or lending out my slings.

Of course, having said that, I'm sure he'll now demand to be carried everywhere for the next few weeks.

So, without further ado, the various slings which have enabled our babywearing journey in all their glory....

#1 - The BabyBjorn

Often referred to (in babywearing circles, anyway) as what I used when I didn't know better. Knowing that Jamie has back issues, we elected to get the BabyBjorn Active, which is supposed to do all kinds of clever weight-spreading things, so that the user is as comfortable as possible and the weight doesn't put any strain where it shouldn't. Unfortunately, these types of mass-produced carriers do just that. They seem to hang the weight off your shoulders and neck, rather than distributing it around your waist - even a simple home-made Mei Tai is infinitely better engineered when it comes to weight-distribution. Jamie actually found it comfortable until he fell down the stairs and had to stop carrying, but the first time I put it on (J-cub weighed 17lbs, I recall) I felt like he was literally hanging on a strap round my neck, and I had terrible shoulder-strain for the next few days. It may be that we had not adjusted it correctly - but bearing in mind I can now carry a 3 stone toddler for hours with ease, I do think that these types of carriers don't built on the centuries of available experience in slinging babies. They also don't allow the baby to be carried with their knees higher than their bum, which prevents too much pressure being placed on their spine - more traditional carriers give knee-to-knee support which is a much more natural position for the baby to be in. Slingguide.co.uk has some fantastic information on the different types of carriers, and puts across their viewpoints about BabyBjorn-type carriers here.

#2 - The Infantino Side-Rider

(See start of post for picture - on the left.)

Note: still available to buy if anyone wants it - I haven't got round to ebaying this yet.

I picked this up in TK Maxx (which quite often has good branded carriers at loooow prices) to see if it was more comfortable than the BB. It was, allowing me to breastfeed while I hung the washing on the line, and J-cub slept quite happily in it while I pottered around the house. It was like a revelation to me. I was constantly worried he was going to fall out or his head was going to fall off though - I wish I'd had something more secure at that time as it might have brought me round to full-time sling-use a lot earlier.

#3 - The Mei Tai

On holiday in Pembrokeshire, tickling J-cub's feet to keep him awake 'til we got home.

As a result of my success with the Infantino, but wanting something a bit more secure and multi-functional, I started Googling (ahhh, if only I'd found the Natural Mamas forum at that point. I'll just insert that there, in case you're getting bored. LOADS of info there). I found some recommendations and a sewing tutorial to make a Mei Tai - a traditional Asian carrier. I told my mum I was planning on cracking open the sewing machine and giving it a go, but she kindly read through the instructions and suggested it might be a little beyond my modest skills. She spirited the printed instructions away and returned with a Mei Tai a few weeks later.

I fell in love with it straight away - it was so comfortable, so easy to use, and I started using it all the time. In fact I continued using it right up to about a year ago, when I realised that he was getting a bit big for it. It's now out on loan to the lovely Emily at The Tangled Yarn, although I'll be demanding it back (or getting my mum to make me a new one) if (ha!) and when baby #2 comes along.

#4 - The woven wrap - Girasol

When boyface started getting a bit heavy, and nothing else was going on in my life and I was looking for a new hobby, I decided to have a go at a woven wrap. These can be a bit baffling, so I won't preach to the converted or try and explain something you could read about elsewhere. Suffice to say - they rock. Supportive, comfortable, multi-functional, and fun. You can do front, hip and back carries, you can use them as swings, hammocks and blankets. Just learning how to do the different carries is great fun, and when you crack it, you get a huge sense of satisfaction. I've never felt more comfortable than when J-cub's been up on my back in my Girasol, it's like having a great big hug.

Lots of people go a bit mental with the wraps, ending up with cabinets full of them (which, to give them their due, they do use) as they come in several different lengths, and obviously the available colourways across all the different manufacturers are numerous. I can't afford to be doing that, so I went for a bog-standard, cheap-as-chips, second-hand Girasol Laguuni to start with. And, to be fair, I got it right first time. Nothing else I've tried can beat it for softness and supportiveness. It's definitely a keeper. But see, if it gets dirty, you need another one to use while it's in the wash...

#5 - The woven wrap - Storchenwiege

So I succumbed and got myself a spare - going for a Storchenwiege Inka which I'd been lusting after for weeks. I always thought of this as my workhorse wrap - I was happy for it to get muddy and sandy and to be used for swinging on or as a roof for a den...

and I loved it while it was here, but I wanted something prettier. So I sold it. And that makes me kind of sad, now. I miss it :(

#6 - The Ring Sling

I got a cheapy cotton ring sling off ebay, for about £6, just to try it out. Ring slings are great for quick up-and-downs - they're really quick and easy to put on, and I for times when you'd normally carry your little one on your hip, they allow you to do so hands-free, with a little extra support. When J-cub was going through a big separation-anxiety phase, I could get on with washing up or cooking with him watching. I perfected sliding him onto my back in it, which was surprisingly comfortable (I normally don't like a lot of weight on one shoulder) and I used the cheap ring sling a lot. I guess that it wasn't as supportive as it could be though, so I splashed out on a BB-Slen ring sling which are made from a woven wrap.

#7 - The REAL Ring Sling

It made such a difference, and I used it loads. It's so quick and easy to use, and I'd probably still be using it now, but I loaned it out to a friend in need when J-cub stopped wanting to be slung around the house. I do miss it for those super-clingy times though!

#8 - The Shorty

Shorties are short woven wraps - usually between 2-3 metres in length rather than 4-5 metres. I bought this one out of necessity - we were going to a wedding and I didn't want the faff of a long wrap, I wanted something smarter than the Mei Tai, and my ring sling didn't go with my dress. So I sourced and bought this particularly to go with the dress, and it went perfectly. It was just what I needed, as we had to park a long way from the church and J-cub was not in a walking mood, it kept him contained while we were in the church (you can see here I'm licking his fingers clean after feeding him Welsh cakes - lovely) and gave him somewhere to cwtch when he got tired. It's just like a ring sling, in that it can be worn in a very simple hip carry, but you can do front and back carries with it too. Apparently. I've never managed it.

(Oh, it's a BB Slen in Green Peas, if you're interested).

#9 - The Soft-Structured Carrier (SSC)

My babywearing journey is almost complete - I got my SSC around this time last year, and if we were still using slings a lot I'd be looking for a pre-schooler sized one now, as this no longer supports J-cub knee-to-knee and is not quite as supportive as it once was. When we first got it though, he was weightless. I could carry him all day, with not so much as a twinge of "Ooof! You're getting a bit heavy up there"ness. It's a Babyhawk Oh Snap!, bought second hand (as indeed all my slings have been), and I love it. So quick and easy, just click and go. I've got more comments and questions about this than any other carrier, and I'd highly recommend it.

And finally...

#10 - The woven wrap - Didymos or FISHIES!

Hoernum Fische (above) and Petrol Fische (below)

Didymos are the epitome of woven wraps. They make lots of limited editions, and all kinds of special weaves and blends of things-I-don't-quite-understand. I'd been lusting after some printed with fish (babywearers seem to either love or hate these fish - I love them) for a long time, and a fellow BLW-forumite took pity on me and sent her Hoernum Fish on holiday here for me to try out. And oh my holy alpaca, were they ever soft. So beautiful, and I've never wrapped with so much ease. Just perfect. Again, another one to add to the list for baby #2.

So of course I wanted my own, sold my Inka and some other stuff, and bought myself some petrol-coloured ones. They're beautiful. Of course, this was around the time that J-cub decided he didn't actually want to be slung any more, thank you very much, so this one has not seen much love. And therefore might be sold on before too long, as I feel a bit guilty having that much expensive fabric sitting around doing nothing. But I'm glad I got to own them, I've scratched all of my babywearing itches, and I'm 100% more prepared for slinging a baby second time around.

To conclude, slinging rocks. The happy, knowing smile when you see a fellow sling-user checking you out; the cuddles; being able to use stairs and go off-road and on-beach; not having to find a place for a buggy in the house or car (ours has been languishing in the garage for nearly a year, with just a solitary outing to the zoo in April to boast about); and the never-ending chatter in your ear.

Such as, when I was standing on a narrow pavement in my local town, waiting to use a cashpoint. There were two cashpoints; one was out of order, and beeping to indicate there was a problem, and the other was being used by a lady. I walked up to the first, realised it wasn't working, so turned to queue at the second. J-cub said something along the lines of "Beep! Is beeping! Beep beep!" and I replied "Beep beep! It's doing BIG beeping, isn't it? Beeeeeeep!". At which point the poor woman in front of me, who'd finished her transaction, hadn't seen J-cub on my back in the sling and obviously thought I was talking to her, turned to me kindly and said "Yes, it is doing big beeping, isn't it dear?"

I'm baaaaack

2011-10-16T19:34:00.001+01:00

Hello!

Sorry. Blah blah, excuses excuses. Must do better etc etc.

Catch-ups to come soon...

On forking out £45 to meet Igglepiggle

2011-07-09T19:24:00.003+01:00

When we first became aware that you could go and see these children's entertainment things, J-cub was waaaay too young to have sat and enjoyed. We really, really wanted to go and see the Wiggles (oh, and probably take him too), but with prices starting at £30 a ticket, it was just way beyond our means.

So when this year's In the Night Garden Live! tour was announced, we ummed and ahhed over it for a while. We knew he would love it, but also that he probably wouldn't remember it, but ohhh it would be fun ... and so on, back and forth and back and forth. At £15 a ticket (including one for the boy - apparently you even have to pay for babes in arms, which seems a little excessive...), we eventually gulped down our pride ("Our child is NEVER going to watch television" HA, pre-Jacob Beth'n'Jamie, swallow your foolish words.) and booked it.

And of course, two weeks before the big day, he got chicken pox. It was touch and go as to whether or not he'd be scabby enough to go, but it turned out he was, and off we trotted to Cardiff.

Not sure who was most excited. Oh wait, it was me.

Parking near the Showdome (it's an inflatable indoor stage, for those not in the know) and walking across the park amongst hoards of excited pre-schoolers, I got that feeling, y'know, like when you go to a festival and everyone is dragging their tents and shit in the same direction and you can hear the music and it smells of crushed grass and other things and ohhhh ... I nearly started hallucinating and skipping around, really, I did.

Inside, we had to queue for about 6 hours (or maybe 10 minutes, I'm not sure, but it was damn hot and once they let you in, the queues move quickly, so don't bother getting there early.), then were quickly ushered inside and sat down to marvel at the birds and flowers all over the ceiling. J-cub was more than a little excited (oh, I forgot to mention that between booking the tickets and now, his interest in ITNG totally waned) and we were so glad that he was falling into the bouncing-up-and-down camp, rather than the screaming-with-unbridled-terror camp which roughly half the children seemed to be taunting their parents with.

And when it started, it was lovely. The puppetry was fantastic, it was captivating and beautiful, and really, really special. Honestly, if you'd told me mere months ago that I'd be waxing lyrical about some programme off CBeebies, I would have laughed in your face. But there you have it, I loved it.

J-cub loved it. I'm pretty sure that Jamie, despite his cynical exterior, loved it too.

And after every little scene or song, J-cub frantically signed and said "Moremoremoremoremore!". He talked about it for days afterwards.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-06T21:08:00.002+01:00

How to survive chickenpox with a toddler

2011-06-30T16:02:00.004+01:00

Just before the end of term, I changed Jacob's nappy in the morning before taking him to nursery, and noticed he looked a bit sore around his bottom. He often blisters when he has nappy rash, so I thought nothing of it, slapped on some Metanium and deposited him at nursery.

Less than 2 hours later, I was called to pick him up, as he was breaking out in The Pox.

A couple of days later, and my poor boy was covered in them. In his mouth. In his hair. In his ears. On his boy bits. And the poor love was so so grumpy and just didn't know what to do with himself. And I didn't know what to do with him. He wanted to go in the garden but by the time we got to the backdoor, he didn't want to go in the garden. He wanted to watch Peppa Pig, but then again he also didn't want to watch Peppa Pig. He wanted a cuddle, but equally, he didn't want me anywhere near him. But woe betide if I tried to leave the room to get dressed or put a load of washing on.

Mostly, I just felt so so sorry for him. He kept saying "Jacob sad" and grabbing his nappy area and shouting "owwwww!". Poor love.

I managed to persuade him into the garden, and we spent most of the following days covering every inch of the patio in chalk, and then scrubbing it off with a washing up scrubby brush and a bowl of bubbly water. He was in 7th heaven, it was great. Then he went on a tiger hunt and found a tiger hiding in the bushes, introduced himself as "Jacob big boy!" and had fun feeding the tiger stones.

But oh, the itching. He hadn't quite figured out how to scratch, so just kept frantically scrubbing at himself, grabbing his nappy and screaming and rubbingrubbingrubbing his head, and the combination of this and liberal applications of calamine in his hair meant he soon resembled some sort of nutty professor.

We found Calpol, Piriton and aqueous cream with calamine were the most effective. Apparently, calamine lotion gives immediate relief but as it dries, the itching becomes worse - the aqueous cream counteracts this (you can buy aqueous cream with calamine from pharmacies, I found it in the dry skin section and it cost less than a couple of pounds. We went through 2 tubs!).

On one night, the itching was so bad that Jacob didn't go to bed til 5am. He was quite happy, he just couldn't drop off as every time he lay down, he'd start trying to scratch again.

Not sleeping on his blow up bed in the living room.

We googled for help and found oaty baths are recommended, so each day from then on he sat in the bath for 1-2 hours while I gently wiped him with a leg from a pair of tights stuffed with oats.

This was easy enough to make - just cut a leg off, put it over a big cup or something to hold it open, fill with oats, then tie. I made a loop and hung it over the tap so the water ran over it while the bath filled, then kept squeezing it to let more of the oaty goodness out. It felt so silky and lovely, and whilst he didn't like it being near him, if I could get it behind him without him seeing what it was, I could gently wipe him all over with the oats-in-tights and he went into a kind of happy daze.

In the end, it took about 10 days before he suddenly felt loads better, his temperature came down and he was back to his usual energy-filled self.

The spots in his nappy area never scabbed over, but nursery said this often happens and were happy to take him back after a week off as all the other were scabby. Funnily enough, only 2 others at nursery came down with it, both babies who he doesn't socialise with. Then again, he's survived 3 previous CP bouts at nursery without catching it in the past.

I'm so glad it's over now, and hoping the scars will fade in time. Bless him.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-29T08:34:00.001+01:00

Happy-tired

2011-06-26T19:14:00.004+01:00

You know that feeling, when you've been squinting in the sun, lying on the beach, too hot to breathe, swimming until your lungs give out, salt drying on your eyelashes, climbing up the cliff, walking miles back to the car, and trying to stay away while you drive home? That. Except we haven't even been to the beach today.

Following the mother of all tantrums yesterday afternoon (I swear, they only get higher in intensity as the days pass...), we bundled into the car (in the rain and mist and coldness) and went to Pizza Hut, where J-cub delightfully constructed his own happy face pizza (unprompted) using carrots and cherry tomatoes and croutons.

And as he didn't really eat anything other than carrots and breadsticks and croutons, we thought it best not to have ice cream factories, so we went to Morrison's and loaded up on Ben and Jerry's. And they had a Peppa Pig ride on thing in the entrance. So far, J-cub has existed not knowing what these strange things in supermarkets are. But he needed cheering up, and so did we, so out popped our pound, and in popped our boy. He's been talking about it ever since.

We managed to thoroughly exhaust him enough that he went to bed pretty much as soon as we came home, and we settled in for an awesome-sauce evening of watching Parks and Recreation (soon to supplant The [American] Office as my favourite ever TV show). And somehow, despite it being Sunday, we were up and dressed and out before 9am this morning, on our way to a Safari Swim at our leisure centre. It was sunny but pretty fresh and chilly - hence our bundled-upness:

I'm not entirely sure why it constituted a safari swim - it was supposed to be for little people who were too small to go on the slides, with calmer waters and jungle animals. None of which seemed to be in evidence. Still, they charged us a fairly shocking £6 each to get in, so we thought we'd better make the most of it, and stayed in til we all turned blue. Which turned to be two hours after we first went in!

We started swimming with J-cub when he was 12 weeks old, we did Water Babies which was, on the whole, great ... but also beset with problem after problem. Swimming pools were too cold/deep/busy. Staff left. Classes were too small so we got bumped up into a toddler group while J-cub couldn't crawl, let alone walk (leaving us bobbing around, totally unable to join in the activities as he just didn't have the skills or understanding). He went through a big wobbly phase, which they say always happens, but having a child clinging onto you so tightly that you're left with deep fingernail marks, and who screams bloody murder when you even suggest that they should hold onto the side or do one of the million exercises they've been doing weekly for a year, just felt horrible and wrong and I left each class in tears. So we quit. We've been swimming precisely once since then ... more clinging, and more screaming.

But swimming should be fun, and we don't want to just give in when we know that he'll eventually get over it and start enjoying himself. So we stayed, and splashed, and cuddled, and gradually he calmed down. At the start of our two hours, he was screaming and refusing to approach the water's edge. At the end, he was riding on my back, holding on to the straps of my costume while I bobbed around the lazy river. And he went down a slide, which involved going through a curtain of water, and splashing into a shallow pool at the bottom. Yay!

We'll try and keep going I think, although maybe not at that time of the weekend with those prices.

Afterwards, we emerged to find the sun had put his hat on, and it was freakishly hot. We went to check out the marina (see the building in front of Jamie's face? Imagine that hadn't been built, and instead you could see a rather grimy ex-launderette in the basement of a fancy marina-flat-complex ... that's where we first lived together. Awwww.) - how similar are my boys?

And just to emphasise how perfect* the day has been ...

*By perfect, I mean too stinking hot to breathe. It's quite nice indoors though. We've also managed to weed and clean half the patio. It took 2 hours. That'll teach me to have a baby and ignore the gardening for nearly 3 years.

Nanny, Buppy, Bee Boy Ded

2011-06-19T22:16:00.002+01:00

J-cub wrote a song. It's awesome. Before you watch it, you should know that he calls his dummy 'Nanny', his bunny 'Buppy', and his bed 'Bee boy ded' (big boy bed). He likes to remind himself where his nanny and buppy are, ever since they've been confined to the bedroom. His constant mutterings of 'NannyBuppy bee boy ded' have joined forces with his new-found skill at playing guitar, and he wrote a song.

The full verse (which I didn't capture in this video - and I suck at editing videos together so this is all you get) goes:

Mummy, Daddy, bee boy ded,

Auntie RoRo, bee boy ded,

Jacob, bee boy ded,

NANNY BUPPY BEE BOY DED!

It's brilliant. And he can now officially say "Oh well, I wrote my first song when I was two...". We're very proud.

Bottomless toddler pit

2011-06-16T17:00:00.003+01:00

This is a rare occasion for me - at the moment we frequently have whole days of No Eating Thank You Very Much Mummy, and J-cub's diet and willingness to try new things really leaves something to be desired - thank goodness for dairy and fruit upon which he would solely exist if possible.

Anyway - a late morning trip to the dentist coupled with a raging tantrum about not touching fire extinguishers meant he got put to bed without lunch (not as a punishment, just because he was shattered and the shuddering breaths definitely indicated bed was needed) and he didn't wake up til nearly 4. So we had a late lunch/snack combo which started an hour ago and has neatly segued into tea. And he's still going. So far, he's had...

2 large bananas.

A full cup of milk.

2 large rice cakes, one with peanut butter, one with red pepper houmous.

A huge bowl of plain Greek yoghurt.

A snack pack of apple flavoured mini-ricecakes (he snuck into the kitchen and stole these while I was looking for something to cook).

A Quorn burger.

A large carrot.

About a quarter of a tin of beef ravioli.

As soon as he's finished each thing, he's asked for more. "More 'nana please Mummy!". "More dice cake please Mummy!".

If I'd realised this was going to happen, I could have cooked a proper meal. As it was, I was reduced to scrabbling in the freezer for something microwaveable (the Quorn burger and the ravioli). At least it's a roughly balanced meal - there's lots of protein in there, lots of carbs, dairy, fruit and veg. He wouldn't normally have something like beef ravioli, I know it's full of salt and sugar and on a normal day, J-cub thinks that pasta is the Devil's work. This is one of our biggest bugbears - he doesn't eat bread (except for toast in the morning), potatoes (except chips/potato waffles), pasta or rice. Trying to get carbs into him is a nightmare. From time to time though, he'll go on a big carb-loading spree, which does really demonstrate that they eat what they need, and maybe he doesn't need it most of the time. And maybe I should just chill out about it all.

I had the other half tin of ravioli for my lunch (due to my mouth being all numb from the dentist) and so it was there, and he saw it, and asked for it. And ATE it. Maybe there is hope after all ... he's now hopping around the living room shouting "De-di-shush pasta!"

I took an amusing video which I'll add later when I've edited it...

Thank you, and good night.

2011-06-04T14:44:00.004+01:00

Time for an update on sleeping in a big boy's bed I think - here's the story so far for those who haven't been paying close attention:

From January - our massive sleep dramas, and introducing the No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers (buy it now!).

From May - an update on how J-cub learnt to self-settle.

Also from May - the nightmareish decision we made to move bedrooms and from a cot to a bed all at the same time.

So he's been in his new bedroom for about a month now. And the novelty has not yet worn off, he loves his bedroom, he loves his bed, he loves talking about it and he loves being a big boy. He's always keen to go to bed, whether at nap-time or night-time, but the time it takes from starting to read until we can tip-toe out of the room without him rolling over and demanding "Mummy more book!" has increased and increased - just as it did in the last few months in his cot.

On Friday (yesterday, then), I took him up for his nap and as I was zipping him into his Grobag he headbutted me right under my chin, making me see stars and *almost* start crying. He's got such a hard head that I don't think he felt it at all, but I needed some ice. So I said "Mummy's not going to read you a story today, I'm going straight downstairs. Have a lovely sleep, see you in a few hours". He said "Night night Mummy", rolled over, and that was the last I heard from him.

At bedtime (at quarter to 7 - result!), I did the same. He went straight to sleep. I think that once again, we'd fallen into the trap of actually keeping him awake by our reading. Which is a shame really, because I do love reading to him, and I don't want to stop. But if it's a choice between sitting up there for 2 hours, or coming down and starting my evening, I'm going to plump for the latter. I think we might have to work sitting on the futon in his room and having a couple of stories into his bedtime routine - if we do that before he gets into bed and into his Grobag, then hopefully it'll be a lovely quiet time but won't impinge on his sleeping.

So we seem to have hit the magical sleep-wake ratio - he sleeps from 7pm-7am (mostly), and for a couple of hours during the day. I have started waking him from his daytime nap, as otherwise he's still raring to go at 7pm and then he goes to bed late and gets up late and it all starts going haywire. Oooh, look at me with a routine! Very odd.

In related news, I decided that half-term was the ideal time for him to go cold turkey on having nanny and buppy (his dummy and bunny) out and about during the day - he was having them All The Time and his talking through the dummy was driving me crazy. If I asked him to take it out to repeat what he said, he would just shake his head and refuse to talk. So on the first day of the holidays, I took them back upstairs and put them on his bed, and when he asked for them, I told him they were having a rest in the bed. It took him a little while to remember where they were, but soon he would ask "NannyBuppy?" and then follow it with a happy "Big boy bed!". And after more than a year of being able to pronouce D's, and calling me "Mummy" (so I knew he was capable of it), he started saying 'dummy' instead of 'nanny' (I don't know why he started with the nanny, although he also used to call me nanny when he started talking - it's also a mystery why he says buppy when he can clearly end words with a 'ny' sound). They are still collectively called "NannyBuppy" but if he finds a dummy, he calls it a dummy. He's really funny now - he knows where they are and that he can't have them if he's awake, but he still likes to ask, in one of his 'comic' voices with pursed lips so it sounds like he's speaking through a trumpet: "Dummy? No? NannyBuppy? Yes? No Jacob. NannyBuppy big boy bed. Sleep!".

So yes, to conclude. Toddler sleep problems, waking up for the day in the early hours, dropping naps, being grumpy, lots of tantrums, difficulty transitioning from cot/crib to bed - have a read of the No-Cry Sleep Solution. You won't be disappointed. It starts with a section of logs for you to fill in, and I'm usually the kind of person who ignores that kind of suggestion. I did it though, and it really drove home what was wrong and helped identify what we needed to do to fix it. I would strongly recommend you do the same, especially if you've got a memory that's anything like mine (i.e. full of Massive Holes).

What warms your soul?

2011-05-31T10:34:00.004+01:00

I guess that technically I'm stealing a post here, but I'm all full of the warm fuzzies after watching a video on Georgia from Gregarious Peach's mum Toni Powell's blog. Go and watch the video - it's gorgeous.

In no particular order, the things currently warming my soul are:

Hearing J-cub wake in the morning. He seems to go from fast asleep to wide awake in seconds - one minute there's silence, and the next he's counting (something) or just gabbling away to himself. When I go to him, he's turned his light on, and excitedly points out his light, his lightswitch, his big boy bed, and the polka dots on his pillow. Then asks for cuddles.

Those mornings when he doesn't wake, and I need to wake him to leave the house. I go in and gently tell him its time to wake up. Without opening his eyes, he shakes his head. I tell him again he needs to wake up, and he starts his slow, luxurious stretches, still without opening his eyes. I giggle, and his mouth starts to try not to smile. He puts his bunny over his eyes and whispers "No Mummy, Jacob sleep". I laugh and pretend to leave. He suddenly sits bolt upright and shouts "Peepo Mummy!" and our day is begun.

Cuddles. I'm a super-needy person, and can't imagine life without a hundred cuddles a day. J-cub is going through a big old cuddly phase, and every few minutes he shouts "Mummy! Tuddle tiss!" and flings himself onto me, wrapping his arms tight around my neck for a few precious seconds, before pulling back and planting a great big smacker on my lips.

Love. Along with "Sorry", J-cub has recently learnt to say "Thank you" and "Love you". They sound exactly the same - something like "Buppoo". I hand him something, he says "Buppoo Mummy!". I say "I love you Jacob", he says "Buppoo Mummy".

Being reunited. As I drive towards nursery to pick J-cub up after work, my heart fills with excitement at seeing him again. When I walk through the gate, I peep through the trellis into the garden to see if he's playing outside. For a few special moments, I can see him playing in an environment totally alien to me - I never see him being strong and independent and holding his own with other (bigger) children. Then he sees me, his face lights up, he shouts "Mmmmmummy!" with so much delight in his voice, and runs as fast as he can into the building so he can be at the door when I come in. I go in, and he comes at me with his arms held up, shouting my name over and over. I swoop him up for cuddles and he holds me so tight. I ask him if he's had a nice day, he gives an enthusiastic "Yes!" and goes off into a stream of Jacob-talk about what he's done.

That all seems a little baby-centric. But really, whilst I still take great pleasure from other things in life, it's all nothing compared to being a parent. Nothing warms my soul like thinking about him, or being with him. He drives me up the wall a lot of the time, but life just wouldn't be the same without him. Jamie and I turn to each other several times a day, and say, with as much incredulity each and every time ... "We have a son".

What warms your soul?

#2 and #3 done already!

2011-05-29T23:12:00.004+01:00

Look at that - just 4 little days into my half-term break and somehow, I've done 2 out of the 5 things off my list. And when I say 'I', I mean 'we'. Jamie needed to print some stuff, so he hoiked the printer upstairs and installed it into his shiny new study.

And this evening, a half-fledged idea to make J-cub a play-kitchen area in the living room turned into 4 straight hours of sorting and organising toys, so that everything is easily accessible and easily tidyable. Very important. We've got a bit lax on the old tidying front round here, and it's doing my head in.

So Jacob's cafe is now open for business, with his cash register and wares available on the left, his oven ready to cook breakfasts and light lunches, fresh fruit and veg in their baskets, and his teapot and cup out on the table ready to pour me a thousand imaginary cups of coffee. And Batty and Judy are eagerly sitting at the table, awaiting service.

It's gonna be yet another rainy day tomorrow, and for once, we'll be prepared with plenty of fun things to do. Today J-cub went the whole day without his dummy and bunny (apart from naptime), and it's good to have lots of play options if he's going to do the same tomorrow.

A little amusing moment from our day earlier - J-cub has (finally) learnt to say sorry and due to the bucketfuls of reinforcement we've been pouring over him when he says it spontaneously, he's now over-using it slightly. Case in point: I was in the kitchen earlier, bashed my elbow and shouted 'Ow!'. J-cub (in the lounge, out of sight), called "Sorry Mummy!".

Quite possibly the funniest, and cutest, thing he's ever done.

Half-term plans

2011-05-27T20:40:00.006+01:00

After a 4-week half-term, the half-term holiday is suddenly upon us. I'm ignoring the fact that I've got a long 7 week stretch now until the summer holiday, and making the most of my time off.

I've already written a half-arsed list of things I would (quite) like to accomplish, which goes something like this:

1. Sort out sewing/crocheting/crafting stuff so neat and tidy and accessible.

~~2. Move printer upstairs.~~

~~3. Sort and organise toys.~~

4. Weed and plant garden.

5. Weed and clean patio.

Right now, we're trying to figure out what to do over the weekend. We suddenly realised that it's the Hay Festival over the next week, but due to a very late email notification, all the good stuff is sold out. The 2011 Eisteddfod is also happening just round the corner from us, but the tickets seem to be very expensive. I think we must be out of touch with how much things cost, as I constantly seem to be shocked at ticket prices.

On that score, we're trying to decide whether to go to Folly Farm this weekend. We've developed an obsession this week with watching the Giraffe cam, seeing what the giraffes are up to at all hours of the day, and fending off tears of disappointment when the giraffes are outside and not visible. We love Folly Farm, and last time we went we thought it would be fiscally sensible if we bought annual passes next time, as it were. So now it's next time, and we've seen that as it's now high season, it's £9 a pop. Which is a whole lot more reasonable than the £13 ticket price for the Eisteddfod, or the entirely-unreasonable £18 they were charging for Devon County Show last weekend (we didn't go). But it would still make more sense to buy an annual pass, and then we could just go any time we liked, and it would seem free. But ... £60 (£30 each, J-cub thankfully is free) is an awful lot of money. A lot more scary than shelling out £18.

So we're umming and ahhing, and wondering if we should go to Tenby and walk on the seafront instead, or go back to the National Waterfront Museum, where we went today and where J-cub was strangely content to ignore the toys and activities set out for exploring pre-schoolers (the purpose of our visit) and instead pottered around the exhibits; comparing the sizes of boats, exclaiming at flags, and showing lots of interest in entirely random things which I would never have thought to have taken him to see.

But none of those options have giraffes, and really, how lucky are we to have five giraffes just a short nap-in-the-car away? I'll spend the evening searching through jeans' pockets and old bags and down-the-back-of-the-sofa and see how many pennies we can dig up.

Real Nappy Week 2011 - the aftermath

2011-05-27T20:22:00.003+01:00

So I did pretty well out of Real Nappy Week - I scored five pairs of Bumgenius Babylegs for £1 each, two Bumgenius flip covers for £5.50 each, and I won an Ella's House Bumhugger from a lovely local retailer, Nappy Go Lucky.

All had arrived by the time we got home from our weekend away, and thankfully collapsed back into cloth. 3 mornings of waking up to find J-cub wet through (it was very cold in my sister's house, so he was wearing a disposable nappy with a fleece cover, sleepsuit, pajamas, and the only 2.5tog Grobag we'd taken...) meant we had to try and wash and dry everything every single day. No mean feat when we were setting off on adventures every day, the sky was threatening rain and my sister didn't have a tumble dryer.

We've yet to give the Bumhugger a proper trial as it's still going through its pre-washes, but I can report that it is beautifully soft, fits him perfectly, and J-cub attests that it is "Bery bery comfy". I'll do a proper review when we've tried it overnight.

We are now in full-time cloth, using a selection of cobbled together nappies at night as we only have two proper night nappies (both Wee Notions Night Notions) and we're never organised enough to wash every other day. I'm sick of leaky disposables, and having to wash bedding all the time, and he has never (touch wood) leaked through a cloth nappy at night. His skin is a bit prunish in the mornings, which I'm not overly happy about, but a bit of nappy free time soon sorts it out, and I'm sure it's more comfortable for him than waking up shivering with cold from being wet through.

And in local news, Swansea council are now offering a £50 incentive voucher for parents wanting to try using cloth. I really hope the scheme is successful - it would be great not to be in the minority.

Weekend away

2011-05-22T20:40:00.001+01:00

Last weekend (*I changed the date on this post to reflect when it actually happened, so that should read this weekend. May 22nd. Thank you.) my parents invited us to join them in celebrating their ruby wedding. 40 years! We're shocked enough to discover that we'll be celebrating our 10th anniversary next year, with the less expensive gift options of tin and aluminium (biscuit tins? tin foil?). As I was the same age when I gave birth to J-cub as my Mum was when she gave birth to me, that means that J-cub will be my age when we get to that milestone, which makes it all the more difficult to imagine.

Anyway, we went down for a long weekend, stayed with my sister as my Mum's sister and husband were staying with them. We had all kinds of fun days out, and J-cub slept happily on his blow up ready bed (great invention), and us young 'uns catered the whole party.

On Friday, we went to a little train place, which had a whole gnome village in the woods...

...and staying with my sister meant that when J-cub wasn't really tired when it neared bedtime, we could pop out to a park near her house for some playing fun (my parents wouldn't really approve of such sleep-delaying shenanigans)...

When His Lordship was finally tucked up in bed (their thankfully-newly-installed double glazing meant that he went to sleep despite their neighbours doing some impromptu jazz-band rehearsing in their garden) we sat in their back yard for a barbecue, gazing upon the beautiful brickwork of the building behind...

...and my sister and I attempted to do some ANTM-worth smizing (but failed)...

On Saturday, my parents attempted to lead J-cub astray by plying him with chocolate cake...

And we escaped to Exmouth beach where the kites were stunning, and we hired a windbreak so the wind didn't spoil our fun...

...and we bought J-cub a bumble bee wind-spinny thing, which he loved...

...and my sister kindly took a picture of all three of us. J-cub was a bit cold, and demanded "Mummy! Tuddles!" over and over again. It was lovely.

We escaped the wind to play in a super-cool park, where my sister took J-cub down this huuuuuge slide...

...and a zoom in on their faces shows their complete horror as they picked up speed, but that didn't stop J-cub from jumping up and shouting "Again, again!" three times in a row.

After some serious bargaining with J-cub to let us join him on this retro slidy-horse thing, Jamie had to drag Catey and I off it, long after J-cub had had enough...

...and we finished the day chilling in a Little Red Boat.

I don't have any photos from the party itself, since I was wielding my Dad's new DSLR (and was very restrained in not squirreling it away into the car when we left). J-cub slept almost the whole way home, waking up about 10 minutes from home with a deafening shout of "Tuddle!" before lapsing back into a semi-doze, with his eyes shut but singing along to whatever CD we were listening to.

Home safe.

Real Nappy Week 2011

2011-05-17T19:53:00.006+01:00

I had a nice series of posts all planned for this week to celebrate Real Nappy Week and my love of all things involving fluffy bums. But oh I'm so tired, long days at work spent with a duckling nestling in my cleavage (don't ask) and Jamie having his final OU piece of work due on Thursday, so he's appropriating the laptop while I'm watching the extended version of The Lord of the Rings and crocheting pigs (it really was too much to ask that Peppa Pig would never make an appearance in this house).

So, a quick rundown....

Go Real - the real nappy information service. Loads of great info, advice, and a list of offers available for Real Nappy Week.
Baba Me - one of my favourite online retailers, who do a-ma-zing offers if you sign up for their email notifications.
Nappy Go Lucky - fab and local (to me) online retailers.
Baby Kind - great for reductions, special offers, bits 'n bobs and have super-low postal costs.
Little Green Earthlets - specialising in Motherease nappies, and where I got my initial stash from.

And some lovely cloth-bummed pictures to brighten your day....

Cloth nappies rock. They're so easy, and the Daily Fail can f'off with their cloth-isn't-any-better-for-the-environment rubbish. For an easy-to-digest rebuttal, see here.

There. Fastest blog post ever. Tea time!

Upcycling a boring chest-of-drawers for an inquisitive toddler

2011-05-08T20:30:00.006+01:00

So in J-cub's new room was the very first chest-of-drawers that Jamie and I bought, in a sale, in B&Q, when we first moved in here. It's a bit battered but serviceable, and we donated it to J-cub when we were cobbling the nursery together. It was very plain and boring, and didn't match anything at all:

I set about it today, with a load of alphabet wall decals, and the result is awesome, even if I do say so myself:

Except for the 'O for orange' - which is a) red and b) blatantly an apple, and the 'X for Xmas' which is just plain wrong when you're trying to teach a toddler how to read the alphabet. Better still, the set of decals (which included a further complete alphabet, numbers 1-10 and some random pictures) were an unbelievable £1.99 from our new favourite store, Home Bargains. Bargainous indeed.

Jacob's new bedroom in pictures

2011-05-08T18:00:00.009+01:00

Wardrobe - for the bargain price of £5 once we'd doubled our Tesco vouchers for Easter. J-cub isn't particularly keen on Toy Story, but we thought this would last longer than In The Night Garden or Peppa Pig, which were the other options.

The bed - before we'd dispensed with the duvet. Star lamp from Ikea.

Nemo curtains (naturally), futon for guests.

Ikea Trofast toy storage with useful play surface.

Ikea Billy bookcase with all J-cub's ~~crap~~ most important Things.

Very happy J-cub on his bed, before all hell broke loose.

With the curtains shut, it looks like an aquarium. Note J-cub having a happy lie down in the bed, again before he decided that nothing was going to make him sleep there.

We're so very happy with it, it's calm and happy and useful and epitomizes J-cub's Jacobness. We've spent so much time in there over the weekend, playing and starting to put up pictures and wall decals (we didn't want it to be too exciting at first - we obviously failed on that front).

The saga of moving from a cot to a bed

2011-05-08T17:01:00.005+01:00

It's high-time that I updated with our experience of moving J-cub from his cot into his new bedroom, and into a bed. As I've mentioned, he has been sleeping so much better recently, that we were starting to seriously doubt whether or not this was a good idea, before he'd even set foot in his new room.

The background: J-cub is a week shy of 26 months. He's a big boy, and when he stands up in his cot (it's a cot, not a cot bed), the rail is below the level of his nipples. He's been able to get his foot onto the rail for months, and I think it's only luck that he hasn't got out. Also, he rolls around a lot at night and wakes himself up smashing into the bars. Soooo, we decided that we should make the move to a bed, less far to fall than if he got over the cot side. As he's in the box room, and overflowing it, we thought we'd switch his bedroom for our second bedroom/spare room/study. We've spent the Easter holidays doing just that - making it all lovely and pretty and nice, taking him to Ikea to choose a bed, and hanging out with friends whose little ones are in beds, so that he could see them in action as it were. (Incidentally, while we were in Ikea I put him in one of the cots and he climbed straight out, which added fuel to my argument that it is Time).

He's been so so excited about his 'big boy bed'. I got the room finished while he napped last Monday, and when he woke up we went in to have a look at it. He totally loved it, he was so excited, he played in there for a good couple of hours, including lots of pretending to go to sleep in the bed.

Cut to bedtime - he was very keen to go to bed (asking to go to bed instead of having a bath etc), and when we got up there he was happily tucked into bed, and had a story. He then asked me to go downstairs (which is our usual routine), I kissed him and left. I came and sat quietly downstairs, then as I could hear him chattering excitedly to himself, I went up to settle him again. In retrospect ... big mistake. HUGE.

He wanted to get up and play, I kept trying to settle him. He got more and more upset. Lots of tears, and tantrums, and he got out of the bed and then refused to go back in. He was happy enough playing, but very, very tired, and very fearful when I mentioned the bed/sleep. I eventually got him settled down again, and I left. There was silence for 10 minutes, and I think he dropped off, then he started screaming again.

This went on for FOUR HOURS. I tried lying with him ("No Mummy No!"), stories, nightlight on and off, quiet, singing, our usual tape of lullabies - changed nappy ... everything I could think of. Thankfully Jamie was home and we could take it in turns.

I offered to bring the cot into his new room, he didn't want it. At 11pm we felt like we had to give up, popped him back in the cot in his old room, and he was asleep in seconds.

I was left feeling awful, all conflicted about what I should have/shouldn't have done, and how to move forwards from there. I thought he was ready, and I didn't think it was safe for him to stay in the cot. We couldn't take the side off the cot now because all the study furniture (computers, lots of guitars and junk) are in his old room with just his cot in the corner, so it wasn't safe. I could have taken the cot into the new room, with the side on or off. Or packed the cot away so it wasn't an option.

It was one of the hardest 4 hours of my parenting life.

And on Tuesday he went to nursery, so we didn't have any time during the day to spend time up there acclimatising. At bedtime on Tuesday, we went through exactly the same situation again. Completely exhausted from the night before, we gave up after just an hour, and put him back in the cot.

Jamie was home with him on Wednesday, and went through the same at naptime, and he slept in the cot. During all of this, J-cub was positive when we mentioned his new room, always answered "Big boy bed!" when we asked him if he wanted to sleep in the bed or the cot, and shook his head when we asked him if he wanted the cot.

We had just about decided that we would take the bed out of his new room, and replace it with the cot, when Wednesday bedtime came around. In a flash of inspiration, I had removed the duvet and spare pillows, leaving just a familiar blanket wrapped around the mattress as a sheet, a very thin cot pillow, and a Grobag.

J-cub has slept in Grobags since he was born, and we were of two minds as to whether we should change to a duvet or not. He really likes duvets, so we thought we'd give it a go. But I think they were just too hot, and he couldn't get comfy under one. He had been very resistant to having a Grobag, once he'd seen the duvet, but when I removed the duvet he seemed to forget all about it, and went into the Grobag without a fuss.

I had sent Jamie downstairs, and having got J-cub onto the bed, and into the Grobag without a fuss, I sat down and started reading. I read, and read, and read. J-cub alternated between cwtching up against me, switching the light on-and-off, and lying down. He didn't once try and get out of bed, and he didn't start shouting "No". And slowly, slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

We didn't hear a single peep out of him until 6.50am the following morning, when he called for us rather than getting out of bed and going for a wander.

And the following day he napped in his bed, after just 25 minutes of reading, and the time has got shorter and shorter ever since :D. He hasn't again asked for the cot, he's told everyone about his big boy bed, and everyone is happy. Ecstatic.

I really, really thought we'd done the wrong thing. I was of half a mind to move everything back into his old room, despite the two solid weeks of work we'd put in to swapping everything around. But it all came up rosy in the end, and J-cub loves his new room with a passion.

Really? Has a year just flown by like that?

2011-05-04T22:00:00.003+01:00

When I started to write the date on the whiteboard before school started this morning, I was gobsmacked to realise that it was International Star Wars Day. And immediately, my blogpost from this time last year popped into my head. I can't believe it's been a year since then, it feels like about a second ago. If you didn't read it then, go and read it now.

Today, E and I laughed, and wrote the date a thousand times, and giggled and nudged each other every time anyone mentioned the date. We talked about our favourite scenes and characters, we watched Lego Star Wars stop-motion animation youtube videos for our reinforcers after school.

I even relaxed my no-Star-Wars-related-play at breaktime rule (although I was happy to record that he chose to play football instead).

I wish that I could have shared my dear husband's barmy take on tomorrow's AV vote - read it here, it's hilarious - but thought it might be a little over E's head. It took me long enough to convince him that Star Wars was fiction, rather than a documentary.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

More soon on the saga of the new bedroom - but I just wanted to remind everyone to get out and vote tomorrow. Say yes to AV.

Sleepless in Swansea - An Update

2011-05-03T19:42:00.004+01:00

So I need to get this post written in order that I can fully document the nightmare that is trying to introduce J-cub to his new bed.

If you recall, back in January I posted about our attempts to change J-cub's sleep habits using the No-Cry Sleep Solution (NCSS) for toddlers. I'm still raving about this book to all and sundry, although I've yet to come across anyone who's had quite as much success as we seem to have.

Back then, it was taking up to an hour to read him to sleep. We had a delightful few months where it would take less than 15 minutes, and then the time increased, and increased, and increased, so we were often up there for 1-2 hours, reading calmly and quietly while he trampolined in the cot, and giggled and laughed and chattered away, until he eventually drifted off. It wasn't a great hardship, but it really did eat into our evenings and we were starting to feel that we were doing something wrong.

Then, about a week ago (so right in the middle of Operation Move J-cub's Room), he suddenly cracked falling asleep On His Own. I posted the following status on facebook:

Beth is confused... 2 mins of reading to the boy, he stood up and started trampolining in the cot, I said "are you going to lie down and listen to the story?", he said no, so I said "night night then", and came downstairs. Now there is silence. No calls of "Mummy?", no crying, not even any more bouncing. He can't be asleep, surely, after 2minutes, not when we've been averaging 1.5hours of reading to sleep recently...?

And it really was that simple. He just went to sleep on his own. The following night, 5 minutes of reading, then he told me to go away, and went to sleep on his own. Then 1 minute the next night. The night after that, I posted the following:

7 minutes tonight. But I did get caught up in the story I was reading, I could probably have left earlier. I think we've cracked it. What we really need now, is to tip his life upside-down by moving him to a new, exciting bedroom, with new, exciting furniture and pictures and toys and then change the cot for a bed he can get out of and see what effect that has on this awesome new falling-asleep record. Yes.

And there is the crux of the matter. He finally, FINALLY, figured out how to self-soothe (with a high-five to all the other parents out there who choose not to leave their children to cry, but instead instill a sense of comfort and security in their children by always going when they call), right at the point where we had an all-new exciting bedroom and an all-new get-outable big boy bed.

What were we to do? All of Jamie's crap from the study were shoved into Jacob's old room, with just his cot left in the corner. J-cub's new room was beautiful and ready for him. We couldn't back down on our plans then, it would be unworkable, with Jamie unable to use his computer and miscellaneous stuff, and a whole big bedroom just waiting there....

Why you should always check tide tables

2011-05-02T11:52:00.009+01:00

Some friends Jamie went to school with spent the last 2 weeks in Wales on holiday, finishing up with 5 days camping nearby at the Three Cliffs Bay caravan park on Gower. We went out to see them on Saturday - the weather forecast had threatened thundery showers but it was glorious and sunny, albeit ridiculously windy.

Three Cliffs Bay is a weird mini-estuary type beach, with a tidal river winding out around the beach and pouring into the sea, cutting the beach off from the cliff-path. There are large stepping stones to take you out onto the beach, but once across you're then foiled by the river doubling back in front of you to cut the beach in half again, meaning that you have to wade if you want to get onto the beach proper.

Having negotiated our way across the stones, we decided not to bother getting out onto the beach itself, and just settled down on a sand spit so J-cub could run around a bit and dabble his toes in the icy cold river-water.

And we got so distracted by rescuing various toys that he kept throwing into the water, that we totally didn't notice the beach (above) disappearing (below)...

Until the water was suddenly lapping around our toes and we beat a hasty (and slightly hysterical) retreat back beyond the tide line. It was at this point that we realised that not only had the beach disappeared - so had the stepping stones. And it was fast approaching half past 6, we had no food for J-cub's tea, and Rowan and Mark had dinner reservations at a fancy restaurant. While J-cub happily surveyed our consternation from on high...

...our friend Mark went to investigate how deep the stones were. At just over ankle-deep, and with the tide still coming in, we decided to risk it. J-cub clung to me for all he was worth and Mark waded across the river alongside me to catch us if we fell. But we didn't. We reached the other side safely and I berated myself for not checking the tide times before we came out. Because I always do. I was brought up to respect the sea, and I forgot, and it laughed in my face.

Still, I'll remember next time. The above picture shows me lying down to calm my beating heart, with J-cub berating me to "Det UP, Mummy!" He then spent the rest of our time there throwing rocks and sticks into the river, in an attempt to copy Mark who was expertly skimming stones.

Then he crouched for ages at the edge of the water, dipping dry stones into the water to watch them change colour.

By the time we left, the tide was on its way out again, and the stepping stones were almost visible. We live and learn.

An owl's versatile toe can move backwards and forwards

2011-04-30T21:43:00.006+01:00

The wonderfully gorgeous Skip at Skippedydoodah tagged me with a versatility award, diolch Skip! (That's me showing my language versatility, innit). In googling versatility (not because I don't know what it means, but just to find something interesting to use as the title for this blog post), I found the above quote. And looked no further, because what could be better than the versatility of an owl's toe?

So I have to share 7 things about myself then pass the baton on to some more deserving peeps.

So, hmmm.

1. I love horses. I realised the other day, at a babywearing picnic where the subject suddenly turned to horses, and lots of the ladies there had horses or loved horses or take their children riding, that I don't think I talk enough about them as people don't seem to know this about me. I grew up totally and utterly horse-mad. My bedroom had not a single inch of wall visible - it was all covered with pictures of horses, all my shelves had model horse toys on them, and my bedroom floor was a complex stable yard made up of cardboard box stables bedded down with sawdust and with teeny haynets made from those little nets you get chocolate coins at Christmas in. It drove my mother batty. I worked 5 jobs throughout my teen years to pay for my 2 ponies. I was heartbroken when I had to leave my horse when I came away to University, and again when my sister didn't have time for her a couple of years later and she was sold. Riding is too expensive, and it makes me sad that I can't do it any more. But when I can't sleep, I have an imaginary house with 2 stables outside, and I can go and see my horses there. Because that's the kind of nut-job I am.

2. My first doll was called Batty. I was given her when my sister was born, and I remember it perfectly. She was a Tiny Tears, and I loved her with all my heart. My mum tried to persuade me to change her name to Patty. But no, I was adamant she was called Batty, and so she remained. 2 days ago, I found her in a bag in the loft, and brought her down for J-cub. He took one look at her and shouted "No baby! Jacob baby!" and threw her on the floor. J-cub likes pretending to be my baby at the moment, and no-one else can get close.

3. There's a fairly common dessert, which begins with a P and consists of lots of little round things, which I can't bear to see or hear the name of. I can't look at them, I can't smell them, and if someone mentions them I think I'm going to be sick. That's enough of that.

4. I have had at least 20 jobs. Let's see. Babysitter, cleaner (houses), cleaner (holiday homes), dog-walker, riding instructor, waitress, play-worker, catering assistant, silver-service waitress, cloakroom attendant, barmaid, nightclub door money-taker person, credit controller, billing analyst, customer service rep, receptionist, Yellow Pages deliverer, electronic note taker, support worker, braille translator, DJ, teaching assistant, and behavioural therapist. That's 23. Well done me for being fickle.

5. I was 11 miles away from the epicentre of the 1989 earthquake in San Francisco when I was 10 years old. I have never experienced anything more frightening, and can clearly remember every second, plus the 12 hours or so afterwards while my Dad drove us as far and as fast away as he could.

6. I love going out and doing exciting things with my little family, but I get more excited about coming home and looking at the photographs I've taken. I'm not really sure what that says about me.

7. And since it was Skip that tagged me, I'm sure she won't mind me pinching one of her's, since I had the exact same thing happen to me. Here's Skip's 4th thing:

#4 – For years I pronounced “foliage” as “foilage”. I finally realised when I had to read aloud in my A-LEVEL English Literature class and it came up several times in one passage, to the accompaniment of the hysterical laughter of the other students. I was 17. It was bad, seeing as I am meant to be a writer.

And mine - for years I pronounced "inevitable" as "ineh-vit-able". I finally realised when I had to read aloud in my A-level Biology class and it came up once in the first paragraph, to the accompaniment of the hysterical laughter of the other students. I was 17. It was bad, because I already felt pretty stupid around all the Doctors-to-be who were in my class, and I still dwell on it every time I come across the damn word, 14 years later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So thanks for that last one Skip, and for the tag. As Crush would say in Finding Nemo, "Noggins, Dude".

And noggins go to the following...

Rhian at Working Mum - amazing Mammi and awesome friend who copes admirably well with everything life chucks at her. I <3 you Rhian ;)

Emily at The Tangled Yarn - musician, smallholding creator and lovely new Mum.

and Issi at Peekaboo Me! - cos it might just remind her that it's *whisper* almost a year since her last blogpost, and I miss her writing! No guilt trip at all, just <3 to you issi ;) x

Conversations with Jacob

2011-04-29T15:40:00.004+01:00

It seems to have crept up on us - the fact that when J-cub turned 2 less than 2 months ago, he was saying single words, with the occasional 2 word sentence chucked in (albeit gobsmacking us with one 6-word string), but we're now having conversations with him all the time, and the abstract concepts he's capable of vocalising are a far-cry from the nouns he was using back then.

In the hour today since he's been awake after his nap, we've had the following exchanges:

Me [lifting J-cub out of his cot]: "Jacob, you're going to have about 2 or 3 more sleeps in your cot, then you're going to have a new bed!"

J-cub: "Big boy bed. Big! Big Jacob Weemeeya!" [Big boy Jacob like Amelia]

Me: "That's right! You'll have a big boy's bed just like Amelia's." [points to J-cub's new bed standing up in the hallway]

J-cub: "Big bed mine! Happy!"

A little later, at snack-time...

Me: "Jacob, do you want some Cheerios?"

J-cub: "No. No snack. Snack! Couscous! Dat couscous, dee." [That couscous, please]

Me: "Okay, do you want Quorn pieces in it?"

J-cub: "Yes! Yes dee Mummy!" [yes please Mummy - accompanied by enthusiastic nodding]

J-cub happily sits and eats a whole bowl of couscous with Quorn pieces and red pesto, shunning the Cheerios in the snack pot in front of him.

He had some milk afterwards, drank about half the cup then handed it to me and said...

J-cub: "Enough! Didge. Muck didge." [Fridge. Milk in the fridge]

And now he's pretending to eat his welly boots, and laughing cos he knows it's funny to eat footwear.

And yesterday when Tilly had the audacity to sit on the sofa when J-cub also wanted to sit on the sofa, he came and crawled into my lap and buried his head in my chest...

J-cub: "No Tilly no! Get down Tilly!"

Me: "Listen, Tilly's purring. That means she's happy to sit here with you. Are you happy?"

J-cub: "No! Jacob sad" [made a sad face and hung his head] [I may have laughed a bit, but then I kindly shoved Tilly off]

Me: "Are you happy now?"

[J-cub looked at me from under his fringe and laughed]

Jacob's new bedroom - progress report

2011-04-26T15:57:00.002+01:00

I believe I may have mentioned in passing that we're shifting J-cub from his tiny box-room nursery into our second-bedroom study/spare room. It's been a hell of a job, mostly because we have Far Too Much Crap for this house, and it gets shifted around depending on where everyone is sleeping/who's coming to stay. The study is around the same size as our bedroom, although without fitted wardrobes, and is home to...

a computer desk, computer, scanner, about 3 printers and a video player
a cupboard full of records and recording equipment, a separates-stereo and record player
5 benno CD racks full of CDs (all the rest are in boxes in the loft)
2 billy bookcases full of books
a piano
9 guitars
a double futon
a filing cabinet
and piles and piles of boxes and books and bags and cushions and spare bedding and bits and bobs and rubbish

And no, you can't see a photo, it's a disgrace.

It just seemed so unfair that J-cub was crammed into such a tiny room, when the study is barely used by us, and rarely used by guests. So we figured that as long as the futon could stay in there, all the rest of the stuff could be crammed into the box room, and he could have a big new bedroom to spread out into and actually spend some time playing in. And we could reclaim some of the space - currently given over to toys - in the lounge.

During the Easter holidays, we've been sorting, and boxing, and shoving things in the loft (and even - gasp - organising the loft space), and shifting furniture around. And it's very nearly done.

Tomorrow, we're having a wardrobe delivered (just one of those canvas ones, for the bargain price of £5 once we'd doubled our clubcard vouchers in the Tesco Easter extravaganza) and going to IKEA to buy him a bed. Gulp.

I'm so scared that he won't sleep, and he'll be running around getting into mischief all night, and life will never be the same again. Or maybe he'll be like our friend's daughter, who - a year in to sleeping in a bed rather than a cot - still doesn't realise that she can get out of bed herself, and calls for her Mum to come and get her in the morning. They don't even have a stairgate, for Pete's sake. Whereas I'm envisaging locks all over the place, and gradually stripping back his beautiful room of interesting-oooh-I-must-play-with-this-now! toys and books, until he sleeps in a bare cell with nothing around to break in the dead of night. No. It won't be that bad, I'm sure.

But he really can't stay in the cot any longer, he can get his foot up on the rail and I'm sure he could get out if he tried hard enough. Plus he keeps waking himself up by rolling over and smashing into the bars.

By the weekend, hopefully, he'll be in, and it'll be lovely, and we'll all be happy. And I will remember to close the stairgate at night.

Easter egg hunt

2011-04-25T20:25:00.003+01:00

Amongst all the excitement of our picnics yesterday, we forgot to have our Easter egg hunt. Thankfully, I'd also forgotten to actually get the hunt ready, so there weren't piles of slug-ridden, melted chocolate eggs all over the garden. I popped out and hid (I use the term loosely, as I couldn't have made them much more obvious and he still needed help to find them) them around the garden, before we let him loose with a handcart to collect them in (no baskets, all buckets full of sand and shells). My camera was out of battery, so I was using Jamie's phone to record the occasion, and managed to capture the moment when the first egg opened and its contents spilled out - see them here in freefall:

About 6 hours and 12,000 cries of "Gegg!" later, he found the jackpot and we took them out of the sun to investigate...

...and J-cub discovered that he likes chocolate, a lot. By the end of the day, he could even unwrap tiny mini foil-covered eggs himself, carefully removing every last scrap of foil before popping it in his mouth with a declaration of "Mmmmm, nummy!".

All remaining chocolate will now be snaffled this evening, for the good of his waistline (and to the detriment of my own).

Happy Easter

2011-04-24T23:28:00.006+01:00

A couple of weeks ago, our bestest friend contacted us and suggested that if we weren't doing anything for Easter, and as she had a new picnic basket which was desperate for some use, we should make the drive to Cardiff and join her and her daughter (J-cub's betrothed wife-to-be) for a picnic. In the shade under a tree where a squirrel made frightening leaps from branch to branch above our heads, we started a new tradition which we've sworn to continue every Easter from now on - FEASTer. We had piles of sandwiches and sausages and couscous salad and yellow cupcakes (Amelia loves yellow) and bunny biscuits (J-cub loves bunnies) and fruit of all kinds and yoghurt and smoothies and sickly-sweet hint-of-apple water.

The feast was topped off with Peppa Pig easter eggs (two Peppa-obsessed pre-schoolers were very happy), and J-cub's had a Peppa ring in it which he wore with pride.

We spent the rest of the day playing in not-one-but-two parks, feeding ducks, playing football, chasing and chasing and chasing each other, playing hide-and-seek ("Meemeeeeya! Where you?"), fighting over sandpits and having a second picnic tea back in their garden.

We managed not to leave til 6.15pm, JC predictably fell asleep in the car, but went off to bed without too much complaint and went to sleep on his own for the first time since before Christmas. And I have that feeling that you get when you've had tons of fresh air and sunshine and physical exercise and you're freaking knackered but it's a good knackered, and I can smell barbeques and feel a tingle of sunburn on the back of my neck and can't wait to go to bed and fall asleep thinking about how utterly cute it was when the little ones were running in circles around the picnic blanket trying to catch each other to give each other tickles. Nuh-night x

Reasons to be Cheerful - April '11

2011-04-23T11:48:00.005+01:00

A little bit of a catch-up, framed in a list of Reasons to be Cheerful, just cos I need a bit of reminding sometimes.

Most of our days are now spent in the garden. There is nothing J-cub loves more than carrying around buckets of water, and any attempts I make to pick up a watering can are met with "No! Jacob!" and he comes and takes the watering can off me to do it himself. Most of my plants are therefore drowning, but it's nice that he's being helpful. And he looks about 6 in this photo, I can't believe how fast he's growing up:

We're looking after the school guinea pigs for the Easter holidays. We have the option of looking after them longterm, as the nursery class are kind of sick of them. I had guinea pigs up until J-cub's first summer, when old age and intense heat got to them. I've missed them so much, but having the cats is hard enough work on their own, without any further complications. But ... J-cub loves them, they're extremely tame and lovely, and they're cutting the grass for me. So maybe they'll stay:

My lovely fellow-babywearing friend Hannah came round for a sling workshop and an afternoon of fun. We went out for a walk in the woods (I use the term loosely, it's a managed forest and the bit in this photo has been harvested recently), just the two of us, and managed to craftily take photos of each other in a faux-walking pose, then photoshop them together. Awesome:

And, even more awesome, J-cub fell asleep, for the first time in I-don't-know-how-long, on my back. It was lovely:

We've moved J-cub's table out into the middle of the lounge, and he's started having his breakfast there, and having lots and lots (and lots) of tea parties throughout the day. I love our quiet breakfasts:

It's been hot enough for the paddling pool :D. J-cub hasn't quite got the hang of paddling in the pool, but he likes splashing round the edges and throwing things into it:

A day after last year's paddling pool was revived, a friend let me know that TK Maxx were selling Nemo paddling pools. I really need to do a separate post about J-cub's Nemo obsession. Suffice to say, he now has a Nemo paddling pool in the lounge, full of blankets and cushions, where he likes to chill out during his lulls. It'll replace the one in the garden in due course, but it's just too damn perfect at the moment to risk being all dirtied up:

Al-fresco meals. At least one a day, sometimes in the nude, always met with relish, and usually abandoned part-way through to go and chase an ant or investigate an interesting bird-call:

Languid days spent on the beach, investigating rock-pools and chasing crabs:

And most emphatically NOT PADDLING. Looking at worms near the water's edge yes, stepping into the (tiny, sun-warmed) waves no:

Playdates in friend's gardens, where the paddling pool, sandpit and slide are fought over, cries of "Mine!" grow ever-more deafening, and parents sit around and happily reminisce over that long-ago first summer, when we could sit in air-conditioned joy in Starbucks, drinking mocha frappuccinos while our babes drowsed in our arms (not that we'd change anything now, you understand, it's lovely to be out in the sun and their chattering and babbled conversations are amazing to listen to ... I just can't wait until they understand the concept of sharing):

And that pretty much brings us up to date. We're spending this weekend moving J-cub's bedroom from the box-room to the second bedroom. He needs the space, we don't. He's also (gasp) pretty much ready to go in to a bed. I am terrified. Wish us luck.

Life with a toddler

2011-04-10T20:06:00.011+01:00

We drove for about a million miles this weekend, to attend the wedding of Jamie's best friend in London (Jamie, being a Londoner, tells me it's not London, it's Kent/Surrey. Me, having grown up in a village with approximately 300 residents, says it's London.). Having set off in ample time on Friday morning, we arrived about a week later, after having spent several days and nights stuck at one set of traffic lights in Streatham (I counted, they changed every 15 seconds. I kid you not). I'm never driving through London again. I cried.

We attended two weddings last year, when J-cub was barely walking, definitely not talking, and although was fairly adept at tantrumming, he did not have a mind of his own or the means to make it known. This weekend was therefore a crash-course in entertaining a fractious toddler away from home, according to other people's timetables, and with our only escape being to a tiny bedroom, where the windows didn't open more than an inch, and the temperature was steadily maintained at 25 degrees.

The hotel though, whilst being skimpy on room-size and heavy on insulation, was utterly beautiful. We spent lots of time letting off steam in the grounds, running up and down the lawns, climbing the steps and chasing the wild parakeets.

Having slept/dozed in the car for so long, there was lots of energy to get rid of, and we even had a late-night dip in the swimming pool for added sleep-inducing mojo. It worked, and he drifted off just before 10pm. Then, to our utter joy, we discovered that the baby monitor kept its link throughout the hotel, so we could go and sit in the bar, or wander in the gardens, or... well that was really all the options available to us, but it was so freeing. I did feel a bit neglectful, worrying about the amount of time it would take me to negotiate the staircases and twisty passages to get back to our room if he started crying, but he didn't, and we never get to go out, so it was justified, just this once.

Despite the late bedtime, the heat or the unfamiliar surroundings woke him just before 6am, and as the cot was right next to our bed he immediately wanted to get out and sit with us. He was very clingy - I wasn't allowed to lie back down, or get up, or do much of anything, for the hour it took him to properly wake up. When we tried to get dressed, we ended up tripping over each other and our bags and the bed and the cot and we were drenched in sweat - none of which was helped by J-cub really only being happy when he had his arms tightly wound round my neck. We'd snuck the laptop and Finding Nemo into the car, so in desperation I plonked him on the bed in front of it so I could dry and straighten my hair, and when I turned round he was out for the count.

We managed to get all dressed and ready while he slept, and he woke up just in time to be bundled into his suit and out into the car. The church was in Beckenham, where Jamie grew up, and we had a nice trip down memory lane driving around looking for it, then looking for somewhere to park, then walking from the carpark back to the church.

We sorted the snuggly-clingy problem by slinging J-cub up in my new shorty wrap, which was very comfy and beautifully matched my dress - he looked very dapper in his suit (the same one he wore for last year's two weddings, sized 9-12 months and apparently growing with him...) and his trilby which he ~~grabbed in Peacocks with a scream of 'mine!' and wouldn't let go of~~ chose himself. The dummy rather ruined the look, but I wasn't chancing trying to take that off him.

He was lovely in the church, we sat near the back in case I needed to take him out but with 27 other children there, he was one of the quieter ones and I managed to keep his mouth full of Welsh cakes or (and sometimes and) dummy so that his shouts of "Mummy! My Mummy!" weren't too distracting. We went for a wander during the sermon, and chatted slings with the sister-of-the-groom (who uses wraps too) in the foyer bit.

J-cub's hatred of singing was mostly kept under wraps due to the sheer number of people singing - he quickly worked out that he couldn't shout "No!" at all of them, so decided to spend the time pulling on my earrings instead. After quickly removing them, I spent the rest of the songs singing "Dory, Nemo Nemo, Dory" into his ear, which lulled him into a bit of a trance. We decided to get out while the going was good, and left while the signing of the register bit was going on, so that we'd have time to get back to the hotel in time for the wedding breakfast at 2pm.

Our food was served at nearly 4pm. We only had half-a-dozen or so tantrums during that time, mostly due to annoyance that we wouldn't let him roam unsupervised down the (many flights of) stone steps, or down the (very steep and slippery) grassy banks, or round the golf course. He'd filled up on Welsh cakes during the ceremony so he wasn't hungry, but we hadn't anticipated having to entertain him for all that time and we were both totally shattered (and consumed by envy of the friends who were able to stand on the terrace sipping drinks, cradling a happily cooing baby on one hip or watching an older child happily racing around with friends) by the time we were called to sit down. J-cub's place at the table was set with a present of a little racing car and a pterodactyl ("Dinosaur! Bird! Raaaawr! Tweet tweet!").

Disclaimer: I started writing this post 12 days ago. It was getting very long so I stopped at this point. Now I don't really know what I was going to say. Sorry. I'll try my best to remember and finish this in an expedited fashion.

So yes, we ate, and it was delicious. When the speeches were about to start, I took JC upstairs for a nap. One of us fell asleep, and it wasn't him. I woke up when he poked me and said "Mummy?" and I discovered he had a rather disgusting nappy for me to deal with. We went back downstairs to find the speeches still going on, and I didn't want to disturb them, so I snaffled a cocktail and followed him round the garden until Jamie joined me. It was very chilly, fast approaching 7pm, and JC was tired. He developed a bit of separation anxiety from me, whereby he screamed every time Jamie tried to hold him, and screamed every time I tried to put him down, and point blank refused to go in the sling. We had lots of tantrums, lots of aching backs, and lots of muttered "Shall we put him to bed?"/"But he'll miss out on the disco..."/"And there's supposed to be a whole play area for the little ones..."/"But he's so damn tired"/"And we haven't been in any photos yet..."/"I honestly don't think he's going to last any longer..." while he sat on my hip with his hat over his eyes and his bunny cuddled tight.

In the end, we put him to bed. He fell straight asleep, we straightened ourselves out, and crept out with the baby monitor glued to my hand with the volume set to its loudest level.

And we got our party on. We had a limited number of drinks, but made the most of them, danced to the wicked cool Britpop disco put together by the groom (taking his inspiration from our wedding, where we made 5 hours worth of Minidiscs rather than hiring a DJ. That shows how old we are. Minidiscs.), and were generally wild and unparental. It was awesome. There were lots of horrendous shots of me dancing with the baby monitor...(which I can't get to upload so have a nice one of me and my beloved instead):

And we stayed up til past midnight. Jacob had a little cry twice, but I nipped upstairs in less time than it took for him to get into full-cry-mode, settled him down and was back downstairs before anyone missed me. It was ideal, knowing he was there just above our heads, but completely soundproofed and safe and happy. Yes, he missed out on the flashing lights which he would have loved, and the toy corner which he would have fought tooth and nail with the other toddlers for, and the evening buffet (but he'd had his lunch at 4, so it wasn't really the end of the world), but he gained a good night's sleep, and awoke refreshed and happy 13 hours later.

After a second go at the awesome breakfast buffet (the first having been the previous day, we're not *that* greedy), we packed up and set off home.

Our drive back was so much better, with 10 miles from the hotel to the M25, a quick skip around that to the M4, then a straight run all the way back. As we were making such good progress, we stopped for a play and a picnic at Tredegar House near Newport, which was glorious.

45 minutes from there and we were back home. I don't think I've ever been more exhausted after a weekend away, and I have a total newfound respect for anyone that has more than one child. Seriously, I don't know how you do it. It was lovely though (in the bits where he was running around happily or Jamie had him or he was asleep - am I allowed to say that?), and the weather being perfect was just the icing on the cake. Don't get me wrong, I obviously love spending time with him, and going to weddings is lovely, and I'm so glad we went and I made some lovely new friends and remembered why all of Jamie's friends are awesome and the bride was beautiful and I'm so glad we went ... but I am totally glad about work/time commitments preventing us from attending another later in the year.

Next year, maybe, when reasoning works with him, and he's not quite so gung ho about running down flights of stone steps or losing himself in crowds.

Mother's Day

2011-04-03T20:43:00.002+01:00

Mother's Day took us (and my Mum and Dad) to Bristol Zoo, where they were kindly offering free entry for Mums (and free cupcakes, when you managed to fight your way through the crowds and into the cafe-thingy). J-cub wittered on about bippos (hippos, to the non-fluent J-cub speakers amongst you) all the way there, refusing to fall asleep, so that the rest of the day was spent on a knife-edge of toddler worn-outness. He did manage to keep going somehow, and rather delightfully talked in his sleep all the way home, and has just gone to bed now. With some serious prompting, he went to bed with calls of "Happy Mummy! Luff you, Mummy!" as he walked upstairs. Prompted or not, it totally made my day.

The Zoo itself was awesome, loads to do and very J-cub friendly (although he would have liked some giraffes, and he would have liked to have seen more than just the bippos ears poking out of the water. He was still ridiculously excited to see them, though). The penguins and seals were amazing, with a whole walk-under-water thing going on, I could have stayed down there for hours.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mother's Day also brought about a fun secret-swap amongst my fellow BLW forumites. Those of us who were feeling crafty submitted our names and were randomly allocated another Mama to make something for. I worked my fingers to the bone crocheting this lovely hat, which I found quite difficult to part with in the end (it is human-sized, that's a particularly large stuffed rabbit)...

...but was totally over the moon when I received back a beautiful, lined bag (also crocheted, also with a flower decoration!) in the most beautiful yarn. It made me all warm and fuzzy to be part of such a lovely, supportive community.

Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful Mothers out there, and most of all to my lovely Mum and my lovely Mum-in-law. Mwah xxxx

April Fool

2011-04-01T22:19:00.004+01:00

I didn't realise it was April Fool's Day today, until I'd attempted to set off for swimming and my car fooled me into staying home by making some scary noises at me, leading me to reverse back onto the drive way and call the AA, who arrived in less than 5 minutes (seriously, wtf?!) and spirited the car off to a garage to have some TLC applied to its coil spring. Apparently potholes+cars don't mix. I recall making some sweary-type noises recently when the car fell into a particularly large pothole, which all roads seem to be riddled with at the moment, following the snowy snow days over the winter. I can't recall where that particular pothole was though, or I'd sue the council.

Anyway, when I noticed the date I thought maybe the car was playing a trick on me, but the £250 bill from the garage seems to add validity to its complaint.

My favourite April Fool of the day is the Playmobil Apple Store. Go and check out the a-ma-zing attention to detail. In particular, the ipod dock where Playmobil Mr Jobs can give a nice presentation as though it were a proper screeny-thing.

I didn't have Playmobil when I was little (my Mum tells me it hadn't been invented. I don't think that's strictly true, I think it more likely that my obsessions for Flower Fairies and My Little Pony probably stopped anything else getting a look-in), so I'm quite enjoying having a second childhood discovering its joys with J-cub.

At the last NCT Nearly New Sale, J-cub was having an AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH-I-don't-wanna-be-here-any-more moment from his vantage point on my back, just as we passed the book stall. I told Jamie to grab a book and give it to him. 20 totally-absorbed minutes later, I finally got to see what had enthralled him for so long - a Playmobil Play Feet book. It cost 20p, it was totally awesome, and we had a good week of fun playing with it. Then J-cub ripped the cover off it, and tore some of the pages out, and I haven't seen it since.

In googling it to try and find a photo for this blog-post, I discover that actually they're fairly rare, and therefore fairly valuable. Oh.

Still, toys are for playing with, and board books are for loving and ripping and fostering a keen sense of reading being the most totally awesome activity on earth. In our house, books are for reading, not for keeping pristine on shelves (Jamie wouldn't agree with me on this point. He would much prefer I used bookmarks, and left his books alone. Whatever.). All of J-cub's books are chewed, and tattered, and torn, and sticky, with broken spines, and creased pages, and cheerios stuck to their fronts, backs and insides. And he loves to read, for hours on end. He reads to his bunny, and to the cats, and to me, and he loves to wrap himself in a blanket and lie on the sofa with a pile of books in happy solitude. He's so much like me in this respect.

I remember being at primary school, sitting outside in the little courtyard thing where we had logs to sit on (which the dinner ladies would tell us not to sit on when it was cold, or we'd get piles) with my whole class, reading our books. A while later, I suddenly came to and realised that it was totally silent, and when I looked up I was alone - my class had been called back in and I was so totally absorbed in my book that I hadn't heard.

So I don't really mind that J-cub destroyed a hundred quid's worth of book, not really ... it's not like I could have brought myself to sell it anyway. Although I think I'll take the time tomorrow to find all the pages and repair it nicely, so it can sit on a shelf for a few days, before I give in to his begging and give it back.

In the meantime, I've been stalking ebay and have started amassing a collection of Playmobil bits and bobs for J-cub.

He especially likes the mummy with a baby in a sling ("Mummy back!"), the mummy with hair just-like-mine ("Mmmmmmummy!"), who carries a bag ("Bag!"), and the guy with a cape and a Fez. Why not.

Playmobil totally rocks. All donations welcome.

First beach trip this year

2011-03-27T20:27:00.003+01:00

The weather this week has just been amazing for this time of year. On Friday I met a lovely friend on the beach for chats and fun - and it was HOT. I'd dug open J-cub's summer clothes drawer, and he wore shorts for the first time this year (which soon came off, when he fell on his bum in the sea), and my cardi didn't even get anywhere near coming out of my bag.

Beach trips last year involved lots of supervising a very wobbly toddler - stopping him from eating sand, picking him up when he got too tired, and generally being very over-protective. It's all change this year - I sat with the lovely Hannah and her gorgeous 4-month-old Finn while J-cub ran to the sea and back to paddle, collected shells in his bucket, shouted at seagulls and generally had a fab time.

The tide was on its way out and he loved standing ankle deep in the sea, while the retreating waves sucked the sand away until his feet disappeared, and plunging his splayed fingers into the wet sand, then pulling them out to see his handprints instantly disappear.

The sea was bitterly cold, but he had no qualms about it at all, happily standing knee deep and shrieking with laughter as the tiny waves crashed over his bum, until he lost his footing and went completely under.

After I'd hoiked him out, stripped him off and wrapped him in a towel, we sat and cuddled til he was warm and dry, and I dressed him in the spare clothes all sensible mummies take with them everywhere. It hadn't crossed my mind to pack any for myself, and having had to plunge into the sea to get him, then carry his soaking-wet body back to our bags, then sit cuddling him til he warmed up; I was completely soaked through to my pants.

And of course I couldn't just go straight home, I had to go into the Civic Centre first to get some replacement garden recycling bags (which some chancer pinched when we last put them out for collection) in all my dripping glory.

I'll know for next time ;)

Spring has Sprung

2011-03-24T23:34:00.003Z

I forgot just how much more open it feels, when it's warm and sunny. Breaking through the darkness of Winter, and breaking out of the fug of two years of post-natal depression (medication-free for 2 weeks and counting!), we went outside this morning in our pajamas and pottered. And it truly felt like the tightness around my forehead had lifted, and the promise of plenty more days to be spent exclaiming over every spider in the garden and every note of birdsong and every time Tilly or Maeby pounced on something in the grass made everything feel better.

And I'm quite sure that this week of sunshine we've had (which, of course, I've been ill for, hence today being the first day I've been out in it...) will be fondly remembered as the Great British Summer of 2011 - I can't imagine that we'll be blessed with sun in March and in any other month yet to come.

But this morning, while J-cub muddied the seat of his Gruffalo pajamas, and plunged his arms up to the elbows in a bucket full of grungy rainwater, and tipped a bucket of clean water over his head, I pegged the nappies on the line, dug the swing out of the rapidly-growing grass and started clearing the jungle.

Being 2

2011-03-22T13:23:00.004Z

It seems strange that a particular date, albeit the anniversary of his birth, should have such an impact on who J-cub is, and his development. Maybe it's that our expectations of him have changed - I've certainly noticed that now he's a 'preschooler', I've been spending much more time talking with him about colours and numbers and shapes etc, and surprise surprise, he's totally receptive to doing a bit of learning, can identify and match all his shapes and colours, and will happily demand 'TWO biscuits!' when asked what he would like for a snack.

He's been using 2 word sentences for ages, with the odd 3 word combo thrown in for good measure, but he surprised us completely with a six word sentence the other day - on viewing this brilliant video with me, J-cub said "Mummy show me picture baby happy" which left us with our mouths hanging open in disbelief while he happily skipped away to grind more Cheerios into the carpet.

On Friday of last week, Jamie had a holiday day from work, so we decided to head off for J-cub's birthday trip to Tenby (as we were rained off on his actual birthday). Just before we were about to leave (as in, seconds before), he thought he should just check the opening times for the aquarium we were taking our Nemo-obsessed child to. And, it was closed on Fridays. So we postponed yet again, and went for a walk in the Mumbles instead, where the tide was crazy high due to the Super Moon, the sea was like glass, and the sky was a glorious blue. We had a lovely walk from carpark to playground, where we all sat and ate fish 'n chips on a bench (J-cub ate fish! First time ever (apart from tuna...), no objection at all, no batter, no ketchup, just one of those little wooden forks and away he went) had a quick play, then more of a walk down to the wonderful Verdi's for ice-cream sundaes.

J-cub has had various licks of ice-cream and lots of ice-lollies along the way, but hasn't had his whole own bowl before, let alone a Flake and a wafer. And of course, now that he's 2, it seems perfectly acceptable to fill him up with loads of crap at every opportunity ;).

He wielded his sundae spoon with aplomb, nommed his Flake, stole my wafer and crammed it whole into his mouth before I could protest, and ate from his glass-stemmed bowl without even coming close to an accident. Think we might have to repeat this treat more regularly in the future.

We walked back to the car as the sun set, deftly avoiding the 'I don't want to hold your hand' screams by getting J-cub to hold Bunny's hand, while I held Bunny's other hand. This was the Funniest Thing J-cub had ever encountered, as demonstrated by the smile in the below picture.

(And I won't mention that when we got back to the (just 5-year old) car, the door handle inexplicably fell off. ARGH).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Several times a day, I get requests for 'Bed, Mummy', which means J-cub would like me to build him a den. I LOVE building dens. We have a massive stack of blankets in the lounge, and lots of cushions, and happily interlocking chairs, which make this pursuit easy and fun. This week's den has been sponsored by the trampoline, and a very simple two-blanket arrangement.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And then on Saturday, we finally made our way out for J-cub's birthday treat. And of course, we didn't go to Tenby, to the aquarium (cos the car door handle fell off, didn't it, and I didn't fancy leaving the car in a carpark all day, in case someone thought a handle-less car looked an easy prospect) - so we went to Folly Farm instead. Folly Farm was our original birthday destination, until we found that it doesn't open in the week at this time of year. So our crap procrastination actually meant that we got to go where we'd originally wanted to go, in the end, so everyone was happy. Phew.

Few were more happy than this 2-year old, who stroked ponies, and lambs, and chickens, and tortoises, and pigs, and goats, and all kinds of other things. He was particularly happy that one of the donkeys was called Tilly ("Tilly eee-or!"), he nearly had a fit when he saw there were FIVE giraffes (it took us about 20 minutes to walk up the path away from the giraffes, as every 2 steps we had to turn around and wave "Bye-bye, grafs"), and there were almost too many slides to cope with.

It was a beautiful sunny day, which made playing in the sand all the more fun, as I envisaged all the days on the beach soon to come.

Since then, my preschooler has had a horrendously bad haircut (his fault, for not sitting still), learnt the sign for 'salad' (thank you, Mr Tumble) and therefore decided that his favourite meal is salad (anything with a bit of spinach and a carrot or two on it is salad, thankfully), and done his first wee on the potty. We've been reading Pirate Pete's Potty since it arrived, along with a super big frog potty (regular-sized potties are way too small for him) for his birthday.

On Sunday, while running around naked after his bath (and, probably quite dangerously, having his hair cut at the same time), I pointed out several times that he didn't have a nappy on and if he needed a wee, he should go on the potty. He went on the floor first of all, and we had a look at the page in the book where Pirate Pete goes on the floor, and we saw that it doesn't matter at all! J-cub helped me clear it up, then sat down for some more haircutting action. A few seconds later he announced "Mummy wee-wee", grabbed his book and his comb, sat on the potty, started reading and combing his hair and .... he did it! We had such a party, pressed the 'Yeeeaaaaahhhh!' button on the book a million times, and sang a 'Pee pee on the potty' song which Jamie was quick to point out came from Look Who's Talking Too rather than being my own genius creation. I don't care, J-cub loved it, and he danced around in a hilarious fashion, obviously proud of himself.

He now sits on the potty several times a day, although he mostly has his nappy on, at least he knows what it's for.

So there we have it - what a difference a couple of weeks makes. J-cub has his 2 year development check with the health visitor on Thursday, and I'm looking forward to seeing what she makes of him.

More Birthday Fun

2011-03-13T23:06:00.005Z

All the family descended today for J-cub's family birthday party ... presents at home followed by a meal out, a walk and a look at the ducks, and a monkey cake in the sunshine.

We managed to do this birthday on the cheap, with a bargainous Brio oven reduced to £13 bought in the January sales, and various extremely cheap Nemo toys/books/bits 'n bobs from last weekend's NCT Nearly New sale. The oven has been a massive hit - and complete with play food from Ikea and a set of toy pots and pans from Auntie Rach, J-cub's been cooking up a storm.

We had lunch in the same place today as we did last year, when J-cub sat in a highchair, was generally quite grumpy and refused all food. Today, he sat on a big chair, happily ate his whole meal using an adult-sized fork, and finished up with jelly and ice-cream.

The beautiful blue skies and blazing sun lulled us into a false sense of 'Ooooh, Spring's here!'. It was fracking cold though, and our walk to feed the ducks (what does it say about me that I first typed 'kill the ducks' just then?!) had to be cut short through fear of ending up with a load of frozen grandparents.

I'd love to be able to say that I made this beautiful monkey cake, but I have to say that I ran out of time (as, I seem to recall, I did last year...) and bought it in Tesco. It was far nicer than anything I could have made. J-cub finished his piece, licked his fingers, and chirped "More cake!" as clear as day.

And now, my boy is 2. Practically all grown up. Tomorrow, he moves up from the Baby Room at nursery to the 'Tweenie' group (for pre-schoolers). I guess that means he's a toddler no more...

Happy 2nd Birthday Jacob

2011-03-10T22:31:00.004Z

2 years ago, 32.5 hours of labour took me through this...

...to this...

Today, I can hardly believe any time has passed at all. But that little bloody, bright red tiny baby is suddenly, this...

Happy Birthday Jacob x

Brrrrrrrrrrr

2011-03-06T08:57:00.002Z

March 1st, as well as being St David's Day, marked the 3rd birthday of J-cub's future bride, the daughter of one of our oldest friends. It was her party yesterday, and we happily trekked all the way to Cardiff to celebrate with her. It was a yellow-themed party, with yellow balloons, all-yellow party food, yellow dresses, and yellow decorations. There was also jungle-themed entertainment laid on, with lots of pretending to be animals and game-playing. J-cub has just learned the sign for hippo, and ran around enthusiastically signing 'hippo' and getting upset when no hippo actions/noises/masks were forthcoming. He was about a year younger than most of the children there (although the same size, if not bigger than most of them) and so didn't quite understand most of the games, but enjoyed wearing himself out nonetheless. Most of our pictures show a blur of motion like this, as he ran round and round and round and round...

He also partook in his favourite Tumblies (our gym class) activity of falling dramatically over and the crawling around a bit.

He lapsed into a sugar coma on the way home and awoke with a yell somewhere around Port Talbot, scaring the life out of me and Jamie who were enjoying a peaceful drive and had quite forgotten he was there.

We got home to find the house suspiciously chilly; we'd left the heating on low as we were only going to be gone for a few hours and the house hadn't really warmed up in the morning. After turning the heating back up and waiting a little while, we ascertained that in fact, the radiators weren't hot at all. And there was no hot water. The boiler was on, and firing, and complete with pilot light, but that was it. A few phonecalls later and British Gas confirmed they can't get anyone out until Monday morning.

J-cub chose that moment, for the first time in his life, to stand by the door, saying "Bah, bah" and waving his arms around in a windmill fashion. We had no idea what he was talking about, but having exhausted all the usual options and seen him get more and more frustrated and upset with us, we opened the door so he could show us what he wanted. He scrambled up the stairs and ran into the bathroom. "Bah bah!" he said excitedly. Oh. Bath. For the last I-can't-remember-how-many months, J-cub has hated baths with a passion, has to be dragged screaming upstairs and plonked unceremoniously in the water, where he does actually enjoy himself for all of 3 minutes, before he demands to get out. WHY he chose yesterday to decide he wanted a bath, I have no idea. Poor baby.

Luckily, our shower is electric, so later on today I can fill the bath with water from the shower and he can have a bath. Obviously, he won't want one by then.

We dug an old electric fan heater out of the garage (not used for 10 years, still pristine-looking and perfectly functional), and used it to heat his bedroom and upstairs last night. Lots of hot coffee, hot food and blankets kept us warm last night, and we're off out today to warm up somewhere. I was woken by loud teeth-chattering yells this morning, and J-cub is now wearing about 20 layers and we haven't opened the curtains yet, so we can retain what little heat we have.

We would strongly appreciate some collective vibes for an easily-fixable problem, rather than a replacement boiler ... please ... ARGH!

Can we have some time off, please?

2011-03-05T00:40:00.005Z

Several PJ-days in a row for us all, as we nicely round off last week's bug with a high-fever-inducing-virus, which has struck us all in turn over the last few days. I hate this time of year.

I do wonder how much quicker we'd get better (and, to be fair, how much less ill we'd be in the first place, without nursery-bugs added into the mix) if we didn't have a super-energetic toddler to wrangle, when all we feel like doing is carting our sweaty brows and achingbones back to bed, to wallow in self-pity and sweat for 24 hours. Not that I'd be without him, you understand. It's just that on days when you haven't slept due to bone-shaking chills wracking your body throughout the night, and your muscles are consequently as seized up as though you'd run a marathon, and your head feels like it's been wrapped in clingfilm, and you can't see straight ... on days like these having a toddler burst into tears because you have the audacity to lie down on the sofa, or repeatedly demand "Mummy delp!" when he wants you to help him build a tower, or just pull and tug at every appendage every time you sit down for FIVE SECONDS ........ it can just all be a bit much.

At least, at this age, he is slightly more independent, capable of getting himself snacks if we let him loose in the kitchen. He likes to stand on his little stool and watch me make toast, demanding "Triangle toast Mummy!" while he plays with the salt and pepper shakers, which are people-shaped and 'nest' in a little cuddle. "Tuddle Daddies!" he says, adorably.

He's also pretty good at entertaining himself some of the time, as long as a Finding Nemo DVD isn't too far off, and Tilly is somewhere closeby for tail-grabbing opportunities. This little moon-buggy vehicle has fold-down steps on one side, and he'll happily spend ages walking all his little people up the steps. (No, I don't know what's going on with his face here...)

This is a J-cub patented Look, with a capital L. He cuts his eyes at you from under his fringe, with his lips tight and almost-but-not-quite-smiling. It usually means he's up to some variety of No Good. Here, it's because he knows his Daddy wants to be left alone, but Daddy's legs are crossed in such a way that his foot makes a perfect bouncy-seat, and J-cub wants a ride. And he's getting one, whether his Daddy likes it or not...

...see?

He managed to get a double-bouncy foot ride here (the holy grail), as my legs were similarly crossed, but in mirror fashion, so he could get on both our feet at once, and the bounce was much more secure (am I explaining this at all well? It makes perfect sense here...)

And finally, when all else fails, the arrival of the postman (at 2pm this week - what is the world coming to?) always brings some delight - here an Amazon packet made a perfect hat, and it also was kind enough to be printed with the number 2 on BOTH SIDES, so J-cub could turn it over and over, each time announcing "Doo!" and carefully forcing 2 non-compliant fingers to stand up together to illustrate his point.

Busy weekend ahead - hopefully we can battle through the illness long enough to get through it all. Why can't I be ill on days when I only have work to contend with? I could just leave him in nursery and spend a restful day in bed then...

Di-dor DAT!

2011-02-28T22:28:00.003Z

With a dinosaur-printed vest to cajole J-cub into believing he was a dinosaur, I managed to get the damn hat on his head today. He'd been happily running around shouting 'Di-dor DAT!' (dinosaur hat, to those not familiar with J-cub parlance), but as soon as I got the camera pointed at him his hat-based objections returned with a vengeance. And, to add insult to injury, the blasted thing is just a wee bit too small. That'll teach me just to blithely follow a 2-3 year old pattern without measuring his evidently massive head. Still, it's cute, no?

Tonight is also our first night in a fleece soaker, as we've been having increasing problems with failing to find a combination of nappy/nappies/inserts/wraps which will contain his overnight wee. The mornings often involve a full wash of PJs, vest, sleeping bag, fleece sheet, regular sheet and mattress cover. The fleece covers are supposed to be great though, so we'll see what the morning brings. And once again, cute, no*?

*If anyone dares answer 'no', I will cry.

Quiet weekend

2011-02-27T22:35:00.003Z

The end of this half-term break has come about all too soon, as always. And, as always, I steadily came down with some sort of exhausting virus which left me in bed all day Thursday and Friday, with Jamie following me over the weekend and J-cub spiking a temperature all day today. Fingers crossed it'll pass for them as quickly as it did for me (although actually, in retrospect I've been ill pretty much all week, and only today am I feeling better). Meanwhile, we've done lots of nothing this weekend, apart from watching Finding Nemo sixty-three million times (I swear, J-cub wakes up chanting 'Meemo, meema, meemo, meema' every day) and spending an awful lot of time cuddling.

J-cub's cries of 'Tuddle Tilly!' every time she curls up to sleep are now grumpily tolerated, although not so much when he tries to sit on her.

We've had the return of Buckethead very much in evidence this last week...

And inexplicable signings of 'crocodile' in the bath, even though there are no crocodiles to be seen and he doesn't seem particularly perturbed by whatever dangers he's imagining...

I spent today's naptime dusting off my shiny new sewing machine and whipping up a fleece lined Dinosaur hat, which I was super-proud of (especially after I'd unstitched the first attempt, which had the stegosaur spikes going up the back and then down one side) but which J-cub flat out refused to wear. 'Dorodee dat!' he shouted angrily, banging it down on her head. And, to be fair, Dorothy is a dinosaur after all...

So long half-term, back to work tomorrow ... :(

Jan/Feb Photo Update

2011-02-23T20:48:00.003Z

By no means a comprehensive photo update, because I don't want to bore you. Here's some gems though...

Oooh look, Christmas tree in the background! See, it did happen. Here, J-cub has taken a bunch of annoyingly-breakable plastic mini-things, and sorted them on top of a load of numbered blocks. Because he is a genius (and not at all obsessed with sorting, stacking, lining things up etc). This is his 'Yeah!' stance.

Ooop North, visiting the Pili Palas - due to the cold there was a distinct lack of pili but this Royal Python called Samantha captured J-cub's heart instead. He was far braver than the rest of us.

There were also a lot of lovely birds, which flapped and flew around all over the place, just out of reach and often just out of sight, leading to J-cub's complete bemusement and bafflement. He could hear them, he could *almost* see them, but they were just too fast to catch.

The in-laws beautiful living room proved the perfect velodrome for JC's trike (which we sensibly crammed into the car at the last minute).

Back home, being utterly gorgeous.

Oooh, see, this is why I shouldn't stop writing for so long. J-cub's affections are no longer solely reserved for Jemaine. In fact, Jemaine is very much playing second fiddle now to bunny, who has slept in J-cub's cot since birth but he's barely paid attention to. Now though, bunny (seen here being signed for) is synonymous with nanny (dummy), and we barely get through 10 minutes without one or the other being begged for. (Also note the Gruffalo t-shirt, and Gruffalo DVD on in the background. The Gruffalo is very popular right now).

New year, new carrier. This is our beautiful SSC, bought second hand to try out and instantly fallen in love with. It's a Babyhawk Oh Snap! and it is so comfortable, and so easy to use. Everywhere we go now, as soon as I open the door J-cub begs 'Mummy back? Deee [please] Mummy back!'.

Bear hat, Gruffalo coat. J-cub is now officially the coolest kid at school. When I went to pick him up from nursery the other day, his little posse all gathered around his coat and raaaaar'd it at each other. Yesterday, I tried to put on his blue hat with a bug on the front. 'No Mummy, no bat [hat].' (J-cub ran off, and returned a second later with his bear hat) 'Bat!'.

And just cos he's awesome...

J-cub's bucket o' bapples and those who like to eat from it - giraffe, zebra, reindeer and Mummy-with-a-bag.

Nonsense

2011-02-23T20:08:00.005Z

I think there are just too many things to write about, which I feel deserve their own blog post, but I can't sort through my thoughts to get anything cohesive down before my mind flits off elsewhere. I haven't even written about Christmas. What sort of a record of my life is this, when my child's first (well, second, but the horrendous GE bug we had in 2009 cancels that one out) Christmas isn't fully documented. Let's think of a list, shall we? And then, maybe, if I have time I can come back and write more about them, and if not, I can just tell my stupid brain to shut up about it and get on with wittering about Spring or something.

1. Christmas. Was awesome, and we weren't ill. J-cub liked his Christmas presents, although the most popular were, predictably, the cheapest and most throwaway packs of crayons etc. And the Megabloks pirate ship and the Happyland rocket - lovely plastic tat which has lead to an explosion of imaginative play skills. Woop!

2. Imaginative play. My little toddler is walking toys around, and having them eat out of 'buckets of bapples Mummy!', and putting them to bed, and attacking them with sharks, and putting them on the toilet, etc. Awwww.

3. Talking. Now in (mini) sentences - two words strung together is now a constant, and he can very easily say-and-sign his way through entire conversations. I've given up recording his vocab, but it must be huge by now.

4. First trip to the North Wales side of the family (it's a 6 hour drive, I just haven't been able to face it before now). We did it, J-cub loved it, we went to a butterfly farm and J-cub stroked a snake. It was cool.

5. Potty training. We haven't started yet, but I have Thoughts.

6. Moving to a bed. Ditto.

7. Gym class. We now go to a weekly gym class, the 'free play' aspect of which J-cub fully embraces, and the 'structured activity' bit he deems as an assault on his human rights and either shouts 'NO!' repeatedly while perched atop a piece of apparatus or runs around screaming bloody murder.

8. Birthdays. J-cub is going to be TWO in 15 days. HOW is that possible?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Okay that's all I can think of. There's more, and I'll add to them, but now I've got that out of my system I can get on with talking about other things, and not feeling this cloud of 'Update properly or your blog will be incomplete' hanging over my shoulder. Because really, who cares*?

I'm going to find some pretty pictures now and put them up instead of doing anything more worthwhile with my time (plus, there's some sort of football match on the television and my feet are too cold to sit in the kitchen and sew). TTFN fact fans.

*I do, and I hate it when people say 'who cares?' about things that are important to me, but I recognize that I'm an idiotic Virgo and not everything has to be perfect. Let It Go.

Sleepless in Swansea

2011-01-29T18:11:00.007Z

So back when I updated after my post-Summer absence, I mentioned that we were having sleep issues. The last time I posted was December 16th, which was around the time when our sleep problems went from bad to worse. J-cub started getting up for the day at around 3am. Often after having had a period of wakiness from midnight to 1am. We don't generally go to bed before midnight, which meant that one, if not both of us, were having around 2 hours sleep a night.

When J-cub woke on these occasions, he was either screaming or wide-awake, bouncing and asking to go downstairs. If he was screaming, picking him up and rocking him would lead to him falling asleep on our shoulders, and waking again the second he was lowered into the cot. Or we would sit on the tiny stool beside his cot, and every time he drifted off, we'd creep out, only to have him start screaming again the second we'd made our way out of the room. He won't sleep in our bed, it's like a giant trampoline to him and nothing we've tried has persuaded him that it's a nice place to sleep. So our only option was to bring him down and let him wear himself out again. Sometimes he fell asleep on Dorothy (his rocking dinosaur), but would start screaming again if we carried him upstairs. Sometimes we rocked him for hours on our shoulders, resulting in burning pains across our backs for several days afterwards.

Something had to give, and the comments of "Well of course you must parent however you want, but you're going to have to leave him to cry himself to sleep at some point" from my dad and other well-meaning (well, maybe not) advisers. Instead, I did what I always do and turned to the Internet for advice. I'd seen talk of the No-Cry Sleep Solution on the various parenting forums which I frequent, but had dismissed it along with most other parenting manuals as being a gimmick and unlikely to work. In desperation though, I ordered the toddler version along with a batch of Christmas presents from Amazon, and devoured it in a couple of days. We started to implement the changes pretty much straight away, and Oh My God what a difference it made. We learnt that J-cub was having, on average, 7 too few hours of sleep a night. Seven. Over the following days, we made the following changes, which I'm going to list here in the hope it might help some other desperate parents, but I do strongly recommend you buy the book. It's very well-written, doesn't prompt you to make any changes which you don't want to make (but which peer-pressure might be fooling you into thinking you should make), and most importantly, doesn't even contemplate the thought of leaving your child to cry. Our changes then, were as follows:

Nightlight. J-cub had a nightlight, as he does not like it when it's completely dark, but the nightlight was green. The book explains that lights in the yellow spectrum emulate daylight, and can trigger the body to think it's time to wake up. Lights in the blue spectrum emulate night, and accordingly the body thinks it's time to sleep. We changed this the first night, and we had a couple more hours sleep during the night.

Bedtime routine. We had a bedtime routine of sorts, comprising dinner, play, milk, teeth-brushing, bed. The book made us keep a log of these times, looking at activity level (we should be aiming for calm), and light level (should be dim). We had been keeping the lights on full, and the activity level often involved lots of running around and giggling, in an attempt to 'wear him out'. We started dimming the lounge lights, making a snuggly nest of blankets and cushions on the floor, and having quiet stories. Instead of then having a battle to get him up the stairs, he started to go quite willingly, having had the opportunity to wind down first.

Calm bedroom. His bedroom is pretty calm already, but it was also very messy. I cleared it out, tidied it up, and removed from sight some of the things which made him shriek with joy when he saw them. We instigated a rule of no-lights on during the night (i.e. to tend to him, check his nappy etc). We also took a pile of books upstairs, books which we've held onto from our childhoods, and which are more appropriate for older children, but which are long and lulling and can be read to him, rather than with him. We started reading him to sleep, rather than rocking him to sleep. The first night we did this, he fell asleep in around 20 minutes. And did not wake when I got up and walked out. Result! This also dramatically affected his daytime naps...

Daytime nap. We had always gone along with the 'he'll sleep when he's ready' attitude to daytime sleep. But this often meant that we got so caught up in the fun of daily play, that he didn't nap at all. As a result, he was overtired at bedtime, and completely unable to fall asleep. We stopped letting him decide when it was naptime, and started putting him down straight after lunch. Having the lure of stories upstairs was enough of a motivator to get him upstairs without a fight, and we let him choose a book from his bookcase to read with us, followed by a longer book to read to him when he lay down. Again, this worked immediately and he went back to having a good 2 hour nap every day (the relief of this was incredible, I was so not ready for him to drop his nap).

Wake-up times. This was the very hardest thing to get working. The book explains why having a regular wake-up time in the morning is as important as a regular bed-time (again, I'm going to suggest you read it, it makes so much sense). At J-cub's age, he should be sleeping roughly 12 hours a night, which would mean a 7am wakeup after a 7pm bedtime. After implementing all the above changes, we were getting a regular bedtime most nights, and he was finally sleeping through, but he was still waking around 4.30-5.30am, wide awake and ready to start the day. We had no idea how to instigate a regular wakeup time, when he point blank refused to go back to sleep at that hour. In the end, it was the knock-on effect of all the other changes that got him to that point - he just suddenly started sleeping later in the morning.

It only took a couple of weeks in the end, and it's still not perfect now, but we're not looking for perfect, just for something that works for all of us and makes him happier during the day. He had 13 out of the 14 signs of sleep-deprivation listed in the book, including regular tantrums and a general demeanour of grumpiness all day every day. A month on and he is so so happy, and content, and we're not tearing our hair out and questioning why we'd had a child in the first place.

It can still take upwards of an hour to read him to sleep, especially when he's teethy or poorly (he's stuffed up with cold at the moment and it's taken an hour so far tonight...), but at least we're sitting down and reading lovely stories rather than breaking our backs rocking a massively-heavy toddler in our arms.

All the sleep-deprivation meant that I momentarily forgot I had a blog (again) but here I am again, and maybe one day I'll get back to keeping things up to date.

It's my turn to go back upstairs now and take over reading duties. Night night x

ETA: Further update here.

Bapples!

2010-12-16T19:38:00.002Z

There's nothing more I love at the moment than talking to my baby. Every day he tries to say new words, and he babbles away to himself all the time. I'm going to miss his babbles so much when he starts talking properly; he wanders around chanting "bah-boo-bah-bee" over and over again and it's the cutest thing in the world.

He seems able to say most of his consonants, but can't string them together in the right order, so 'Bagpuss' often comes out as 'sss-Ba-puh', 'slide' is 'dide-sss' and 'sausages' is 'doshges'. He did do a very accurate 'dinodaur' today which I was very impressed with.

Without doubt, his favourite (and most accurate) word is 'Daddeeeee!' said with a great deal of glee, and used to refer to anything exciting or as a question to ask where his father is. The 'd' sound occurs more than most (except 'b'), leading to confusing conversations like the one we had at lunch today...

Jacob: Dadder.
Me: Ladder?
Jacob: Daddeeee.
Me: Daddy? Daddy's at work.
Jacob (shaking his head): Doh-doh.
Me: Dog?
Jacob (angrily): Doh-doh!
Me: Dorothy?
Jacob (pointing at fridge): Doh-doh!
Me: Yoghurt?
Jacob: Dah-doh!
Me: Magnet?
Jacob (squeals and smiles): Dah-doh!
Me: Yes lots of magnets. Well done.

My favourite of all his mispronunciations though has to be his word for 'apple'. He's perfectly capable of saying 'apple', but has started adding a 'b' sound to the start. We were wandering around Tesco the other day choosing fruit, and Jacob got very excited when we reached the apples. A lady almost peed her pants laughing as we walked up the aisle from the bananas towards the apples, and he said "nana-nana-nana-nana-BAPPLES!-BAPPLES!-BAPPLES!". I think it might be my favourite word in the whole world.

17. Sell car

2010-12-14T19:47:00.003Z

SOMEBODY stood on the laptop. Somebody pretty small, whose weight shouldn't really have cracked the screen, but did, and rendered it useless until Acer can tell us whether or not it can be replaced. This is just a couple of months after SOMEBODY knocked the laptop off the sofa and bend the power adaptor pluggy-bit, so that it couldn't charge any more. Thankfully, it's still in warranty, so it shouldn't cost too much to fix. And extra-thankfully, the laptop which the new laptop replaced, which stopped working just less than a year ago, was dragged out and dusted off and appears to work perfectly well. Yay!

But the argh-factor of having yet another something which is broken and needs fixing sent my head into a downward-spiral and the all-consuming guilt over having an unused car sitting on my drive for 18 months came to a head. Instead of my usual reaction of having a breakdown, I listed the damn thing on ebay with a start price of £50 and no reserve. Less than 24 hours later, a very nice man appeared, dragged it off the driveway and round the village a few times until the wheels unlocked, winched it onto a flatbed truck, handed me a wodge of cash and was gone. Just as easy as that, and I am having NO "Why the hell didn't I do this 18 months ago?" thoughts, because I just don't care any more.

As stupid as it sounds, the car sitting there has been the one thing which has stopped me from finally feeling like everything's okay. Being on the anti-depressants has helped me find my way out of my PND, given me a crutch to sort my head out and CBT myself into a positive-thinking machine. At the back of my mind has always been that little niggly thought of the money-pit that was the car, sitting there and doing nothing. I don't know why I find sorting out things like this so hard, but it has filled me with such anguish that I've refused to look at it for all this time. I hated myself for being useless every time it popped into my head. But that uselessness stopped me from doing anything proactive, like actually listing it for sale.

I'd love to say I won't make the same mistake again, but the uncomfortable fact is that the exact same thing happened with my very first car (and I'm only on my 3rd now, giving me a 100% idiot hit rate). I think the best thing to do is never to replace my current car, then I really can't go wrong.

Today, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my forehead (I don't know why people say they carry weights on their shoulders, mine are always focused on my forehead), and, dare I say it, there is nothing worrying me. It feels lovely. And I've had my AD dose halved, and me and J-cub went to the loveliest park after school today to play. Check out our view.

Ready Made Post

2010-11-23T20:13:00.002Z

My lovely friend posted her aim this afternoon to list her daughter's current words and signs. I've been meaning to write a post about this, as in the couple of months since I last posted (and worried about J-cub's lack of speech), we've had an explosion of words and signs, so much so that J-cub is frequently frustrated by us as he signs clearly and fluently and we look at him blankly, before rushing to search through our signing books, flashcards and DVDs to figure out what he's saying. I've tried to keep a record of them, and have a sticky note on my desktop with them all ready and raring to be shared.

So without further ado, here is my (probably incomplete) list of J-cub's current communications.

Signs:

(grouped in tens for easy counting)

more, baby, milk, food, apple, hi/bye, Daddy, Nanna, duck, bird

rabbit, giraffe, elephant, lion, tiger, cat, crab, fish, monkey, caterpillar

ants, teddy, cuddles, ball, nappy, where, what, octopus, flower, shush

frog, banana, yoghurt, car, sheep, trousers, shoes, orange, boat, book

grapes, camera, bath, stairs, hat, bee, telephone, listen, look, no

yes, draw, dummy, bed, penguin, Hannah, rainbow, tired, clean, dirty

teeth, drink, music, enough, no/stop, guitar, snake, hungry, yummy, nappy

pain, medicine, sleep

Animal Noises:

Snake [ssssssss]

Dog [ooo ooo]

Monkey [ooo ooo eee eee]

Mouse [eee eee eee]

Cat [yow]

Lion/Tiger/Elephant/Dinosaur [loud roaring/screaming sound]

Words:

(this doesn't include words which he used well before a year old but then stopped using)

duck

Mama/Mummy/Mum/Mammy

Dada/Daddy/Dad

garden [dardeh]

this/that/down/there [all sound similar but are accompanied by a point to indicate which he means]

dirty [dirdee]

tasty [daysdee]

nice [niiiiii]

knock knock

circle

Dorothy [doradee]

ta-dah!

sorry [dowee]

Pop!

boo

baby

hiya

toast [doas]

Bagpuss [bag-puh]

Catey [tateee!]

ho-ho-ho

snowman [do-dah]

kitty

jumper [dumper]

shoes

blue [boo]

and according to his keyworker at nursery:

Tom Bradley [one of his 'friends' who he's apparently been shouting at all day today ;)]

My Name Is Beth, and I'm a thumbsucker

2010-11-20T19:39:00.002Z

Yep, at 31 years old I'm not too proud to admit that I still suck my thumb. Admittedly, it's not very often now, and I can't actually go to sleep sucking my thumb any more, as I've trained myself out of it. But all through my childhood, teens and early-twenties it was very necessary, and very hard not to do it when society dictated it to be inappropriate.

I remember sitting on the sofa after school watching television and sucking my thumb, and quickly whipping it out when the local paper was delivered by one of my classmates, who would walk past the front window and nearly always catch me in the act. Going to sleepovers was horrible, because I couldn't get to sleep without it, but didn't want my friends to see. And as for when I grew up a bit and started having sleepovers of an entirely different nature....... well I suppose that's when I really started trying to kick the habit.

As a result, I was adamant in my pre-baby days that I would not let any child of mine suck their thumb or fingers; that it would be far easier to get rid of a dummy than it would be to stop them sucking an always-available thumb. When I became pregnant, I reluctantly bought some dummies, which seemed very alien to me. I was already leaning towards the natural-parenting school of thought, which is most definitely dummy-free, and as neither myself nor my sister had had a dummy I couldn't quite get my head around the thought of using a piece of silicone to pacify my baby. I'd also read about nipple confusion, and knew I should wait 4-6 weeks, until breastfeeding was established, before introducing a dummy.

Then motherhood hit, and I had this hungry little baby, who couldn't or wouldn't latch on to feed, and who had to be fed with syringe or cup for the first 6 days of his life, before a kind community midwife saved my sanity by suggesting nipple shields, which worked like a charm and he started feeding straight away. The times when he wasn't feeding, he was grizzly, and grumpy, and moaned and groaned in his sleep and kept us awake at those times when we needed to try and catch up on our sleep. We told the midwife, who asked if we'd considered a dummy. I mentioned about the nipple confusion but she said that as we were using nipple shields anyway it wouldn't make much difference.

I think I sterilised the dummies ready straight away, but it was about another week before I could bring myself to give him one. I'd also read research from the Foundation for the Study of Infant Deaths (FSID) that dummies reduce the risk of cot death, but also once you've introduced one, you shouldn't take it away until after a year old (I can't find that to link to now...).

So we became dummy users, and had a brief conversation at around a year old about whether we should 'do something' about it. We started reducing his use of it, so that he only had it in the car and in the cot. And that was, on the whole, pretty successful (we didn't implement this at nursery, as I figured he needed all the comfort he could get while he was there). Especially when toddler life became exciting and he started trying to talk a lot more, which was easier with a mouth unencumbered by a lump of silicone. Of course we had slip ups - when he was poorly then it's the only thing he really wants (and a Jemaine in each hand), when he's anxious or nervous or scared, and when he's poorly. When he dropped his afternoon nap he started getting tired around 6pm, so we instigated a half-hour In The Night Garden-Jemaines-dummy-Dorothy rocking session.

Recently we've had this horrible illness, and he's spent pretty much all day every day rocking on Dorothy with a dummy in his mouth and a Jemaine in each hand. And that means the dummy encroaches into other parts of life, so we end up exhausted at soft-play with a dummy...

And potentially lovely photos are spoiled by having it right there. However much I'm used to it now, I still don't like seeing it. And he knows it too, if he stumbles across one and slips it in, he'll come running straight up to me, thrust his face in mine and point to it with a cheeky grin. "Jacob, have you got a dummy?" I ask in a teasing tone of voice, and he screams and runs away cackling, to 'hide' in a corner and suck it for all he's worth.

All of this wittering is a roundabout way of saying yes, he still has a dummy, and no, I don't really know what to do about it. I think I'd rather wait until he can understand before we take it away completely. There's nothing I hate more than seeing him upset or hurting and not being able to explain what's going on and to help him. If we were to take them away now, he'd be inconsolable. I know it would probably only last a few days, then he'd forget all about them, but I just can't see that it's doing that much harm. Illness aside, he only has it in the cot now, and I'll often go up to check on him and find him sleeping without it. Sucking has been shown to alleviate pain, and it's definitely an innate instinct to suckle for comfort. In an ideal world, he'd be suckling on the breast, but for us that wasn't possible (3 months of thrush and recurring mastitis meant feeding him was hard enough, let alone any extra-curricular suckling).

Really, I just can't resist the cheeky twinkle in his eye when he's got one. It's gorgeous.

November Photo Update

2010-11-19T17:29:00.004Z

More lovin' between J-cub and Tilly-bear...

A walk around the village to see fireworks (and eat apple pies in front of the village shop, it was awesome)...

J-cub discovered finger puppets and has become very adept at puppeteering...

And there have been far too many days that look like this, as a poorly baby has had to cope with a tummy bug, a chest infection, an ear infection, and his last 4 molars trying to put in an appearance. All at once...

Which has led to countless coughing/panic attacks complete with inconsolable screaming and eyes that don't seem to recognise us, raging temperatures, sleepless nights, a washing machine on constantly, a kitchen knee-deep in vomit-covered laundry, watching Coast at 3am, falling asleep at work, refusing to eat for a week, returning home after driving half-way to nursery before J-cub has thrown up all over himself, and a permanent comfy-area in the lounge for desperately trying to cope with very little sleep...

(Oh and note how the sofa is lower on the left than on the right? The springs broke. We now need a new sofa on top of everything else.)

October Photo Update

2010-11-19T17:14:00.003Z

We kicked October off with a return-to-pre-baby-life as we DJ'd at Chick Habit in Cardiff. It's been too long since I last DJ'd and I was very nervous, so I enlisted my lovely friend Claire to work with me. After getting told off for playing 'too much heavy stuff' we kicked the boys asses by filling the dance floor and keeping them there. We rocked. It was freaking awesome, and we rolled into bed at sometime around 5am. It was light.

We had a couple of days of Indian Summer, and took full advantage of it with snoozy walks through the forest...

J-cub perfected his innocent 'I'm not touching that dummy Mum, honestly' look...

And was just generally gorgeous...

J-cub and Tilly's relationship went from strength to strength, with her joining us for pre-bed story time...

I re-read all 7 Harry Potter books in preparation for the 7th film, and J-cub got in on the action too...

He's so clever ;)

September Photo Update

2010-11-19T16:49:00.003Z

We both had the first week of September off, and spent it trucking back and forwards from Cardiff. We had a gorgeous park-picnic with friends, enjoying the last of the Summer sun and chasing ducks and dogs around, then went to the Doctor Who exhibition. J-cub was less than impressed by the Daleks, and was not even excited to see K-9. I had a great time though, and had to stop Jamie smuggling Amy Pond's outfit out under his jumper.

We went to IKEA twice, to get some toy storage for the living room sorted, and a new chest of drawers for our bedroom, and just because it's a great day out (really, it is, J-cub loves all the play areas and I could spend a fortune in there).

He especially loved the cot layouts, I think he would have fallen asleep there if I'd let him...

We spent a day scrubbing the garden furniture and toys, J-cub helping by cleaning his car (and emptying my buckets of soapy water as fast as I could fill them)...

We spent rainy days inside huddling under umbrellas, which also make excellent boats...

We learnt that J-cub's all-in-one waterproof is just that - he stuck both his arms up to the shoulders into a bucket of water and was as dry as a bone underneath...

Saturday morning laundry provides me with 50 minutes of peace as J-cub sits on an upturned nappy box and quietly monitors the washing machine...

I learnt that I can sit atop a toddler swing relatively easily...

We took a poorly boy to soft play to cheer him up, and he conquered his fear of ball pools...

And we replaced the faithful Jumperoo with a rocking dinosaur called Dorothy, who J-cub fell desperately in love with...

August Photo Update

2010-11-19T16:41:00.002Z

When I last posted before the Great Lull, it was just before my birthday. We spent the day at our favourite beach on Gower, just as we had done 2 years previously when I had a tiny bump and very little idea of what was in store.

It was a gloriously sunny day, and it was fab having my new wrap to carry Jacob down the long walk to the top of the cliffs surrounding the bay, and then to carefully climb down the steep path to the beach.

He had a whale of a time throwing sand around, falling face-first into the sea, and chasing seagulls. He got a little bit chilly after a while (his lips started turning blue...) so we sat him on the rocks in the sun and wrapped all 4.6 metres of wrap around him to warm him up. We finished the day with fish and chips and triple-layer Rocky Road cake, it was gorgeous.

The day after my birthday was our 8th Wedding Anniversary, and we celebrated with a play in the paddling pool...

...which concluded with a very cold baby making himself a bed in front of the telly and cuddling his cat for a good hour before he warmed up. Awwww.

Umm....

2010-11-18T21:30:00.005Z

Every day I think that if I leave it any longer, it'll be really hard to catch my blog up. But then I can't think how best to catch up the last week, fortnight, month ... 2.5 months ... so I wonder off to look elsewhere on the web, and my thoughts drift away, and I forget again. But the guilt never quite stops niggling at me.

Guilt because I haven't done a proper baby memory book for Jacob, or even printed any photos of him and put them in an album for him - there's nothing tangible to provide him (or me) with memories of these precious first years. And this blog assuaged that guilt a little, giving me an easily-accessible record of the little things that are so important.

I've been reading the most perfect blog this week, with the most perfect momma and her beautiful daughters and life, and the guilt has just overflowed. How have I let this lapse? All those moments that have passed without me recording them...

So I typed 'm' into the address bar, to drag this blog up and make amends. And 'ynameis-beth.blogspot.com' didn't appear. Because it's been that long.

When I'd finally coaxed my fingers through typing the whole address, and logged in, I found 3 comments awaiting moderation. Shouldn't I be emailed about that? Settings amended, comments approved, and here I am. Thank you, lovely Emily, for thinking of me and reminding me what I should be doing. Sorry I didn't hear you earlier.

I love your pics of J-Cub. He'll really appreciate them when he's older. I wish I could remember to take photos of Megan. She's growing so fast, I'm not keeping up with her. Must try harder. 200 posts, that IS something momentous, I'm only sorry I didn't say so earlier! :D
By Glovecat on Day 34 - New boots on 11/7/10

You make me laugh. I love you comment about J's modelling hip and the insistence that there is a tangerine there SOMEWHERE. See, I miss your posts so much that I'm guiltily going back over your old posts and commenting, hoping that you'll put up some new ones. It's been 2 months, according to my dashboard! TWO MONTHS! ;D
By Glovecat on Day 36 - Liony bum on 11/7/10

Wah! Now I see that you responded to my stupid comment. I shall have to see if you've "bumped" me up yet (like the pun!)... You have gone strangely quiet, I hope you're doing well and that you are simply enjoying life too much to blog about it! All is well in babyland, though i find it hard to get much done other than what Megan wants me to do... She's lovely though, we're totally besotted! Big hug to you, mama, will you update us and post something soon? xxx
By Glovecat on Day 41 - He's on the phone. on 10/8/10

Message received, loud and clear. I'm sorry. I WILL do better. I'm going to find photos and updates and thingys and quirks to post over the next few days.

But in a few words...

* Going back to work after the summer holidays was shit. That's initially why I stopped writing. It was horrible, I was accused of some stuff I didn't do, and it was all too hard to deal with. I'm still not terribly happy being there, but there's not a lot I can do about it. I'm learning to take each day as it comes, and to be constantly checking my back and covering my ass so it doesn't happen again. They chose the wrong person to fuck with.

* Jacob has taken to nursery like a pig to swine flu ... we've had illness after illness and it's getting ridiculously hard to cope. Poor poppet.

* Jamie's back/neck/arm/shoulder/hand etc are causing lots of gyp and general day-to-day living problems. We are awaiting referrals to physio and testing for arthritis. Gah.

* The cats are very annoying in winter. Because they want to go out, but it's cold and wet, so they want to come in. Then they want to go out. We don't have anywhere for a catflap, so there is lots of anguished miaowing all the time.

* Jacob is amazing, wonderful, funny, growing, lovely, loving, perfect - each and every day. New words, new signs, new little routines and rituals that make him happy. My favourite of today.... him walking very purposefully around the lounge, then stopping, and very, very, slowly casting his eyes at me from under his fringe, just to see if I'm watching. And when I am, bursting into giggles and falling over.

And my baby seems to be no longer a baby ... he's a boy:

'Hiding' in the corner

Day 41 - He's on the phone.

2010-08-29T19:29:00.001+01:00

J-cub is now having full on conversations on his toy phones. Usually with one of us, although when we made it ring early, he picked up the handset and held it out to Tilly, then when she didn't take it, he placed it carefully on her back. Bless.

Day 40 - Wrapping in Cardiff Bay

2010-08-28T23:31:00.003+01:00

I got two early birthday presents today. A new camera and my first ever woven wrap. The wrap actually arrived a couple of days ago but J-cub has been spectacularly uncooperative during our practise sessions and so I haven't been brave enough to try taking it out anywhere.

A close friend has his 40th birthday on Tuesday, and we went to Cardiff Bay to celebrate with him today. We bravely went out with no buggy, and no back-up Mei Tai. I got J-cub in and out of the wrap 3 times, learning a little more each time.

It's so comfy, so soft, and so much more supportive than I would have expected. I found it a little difficult to get the tightness right, as evidenced by the slightly wonky wrap below.

J-cub loved it though, and was super-excited to see lots of other babies, dogs and ducks from his vantage point.

There was a French food market in the Bay and we wandered around all the stalls, eating crepes and dodging the wasps which were besieging the sweet stalls. The market had thoughtfully laid on a massive fenced-in sandpit, complete with buckets and spades, where we dumped J-cub and ate our crepes. He lasted about 10 minutes before we were forced to remove him to stop him throwing sand at a fellow toddler. When Jamie picked him up and walked away, the child pointed at J-cub and said "No throwing!". I wish J-cub would understand that kind of sentiment rather than just smiling sweetly at us.

We didn't manage to stay very long at the actual party, as the pub was child-unfriendly and we were limited to a tiny room off the main bar, with no highchairs and nowhere for J-cub to work out his energy. Tantrums ensued.

We've rescheduled with them for later in the week to make up for skipping out early.

It was a lovely day though, and I came home buzzing from my babywearing success. It's so much easier to nip through crowds without a buggy and we got lots of admiring glances, mostly from older children. I feel a new addiction is starting...

Day 39 - Blog update (2)

2010-08-28T00:44:00.005+01:00

(Friday August 27th)

It stopped raining today!

I was supposed to be going to a meeting of local babywearers for the first time which I was really looking forward to, especially after all the rain over the last week. Waking up this morning to find a gorgeous sunny day, but to still feel like my head is stuck in a pile of cotton wool was horrible.

Instead we spent a lazy day tearing up reams of toilet paper (when one of us took their eye off the other, and didn't respond to the ominous silence quickly enough), sleeping, almost running, falling over, playing in the (HOT!) garden and not eating wiggly worms. Because I have the reflexes of an archerfish.

On the bright side, we learnt the sign for worm.

J-cub refused a nap at 2pm, but conked out in the ring sling during the washing up at around 4pm and was quickly spirited into the cot. I had to wake him at 5.30, which I hate doing but I knew he'd never sleep tonight if I didn't, and I was royally punished with an ear-splitting, floor-thumping, kicking, biting, hitting, screaming tantrum which lasted over an hour.

He therefore didn't get his dinner til gone 7pm, but seemed happy enough watching funny kitten videos on youtube for the rest of the evening until bedtime at just before 9. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And now the blog is up to date again! We've got an excitingly busy weekend coming up (it's my birthday on Monday, fact-fans) but I'll be back to share my spoils by Tuesday at the latest. Happy Bank Holiday!

Day 38 - ??

2010-08-28T00:40:00.003+01:00

(Thursday August 26th)

Still poorly, and I had to cancel a playdate, which made me a feel a bit stir-crazy all day (there's nothing like soft-play for getting rid of some toddler energy). Plus I'm not sleeping, and 3 hours of lying awake in bed is not very good for the soul.

Normal service will resume shortly...

Day 37 - ?

2010-08-28T00:37:00.003+01:00

(Wednesday August 25th)

I spent more of today being ill, having now most definitely come down with a cold.

I can't think of a single other thing I did (other than baby-wrangling, of course).

Hmmm. Must try harder.

Day 36 - Liony bum

2010-08-28T00:24:00.005+01:00

(Tuesday August 24th)

I bought J-cub some awesome leggings off ebay (it's not too early to be preparing for winter, right?) and they arrived today. One pair has a lion playing the piano on the back, and the other has a frog playing an accordion. They are ridiculously cute, especially over his big cloth-bum.

He seemed to know just how adorable he was being, and did his best ANTM-style fierce poses for me (check out the hip flung out to one side...) whilst munching on a nectarine (yes, there is a nectarine in there somewhere).

The rest of the day, predictably, was spent chalking. And J-cub absolutely, categorically, did not eat any chalk.

He did though draw a fish. We've been playing a game where he hands off the chalk to one of us, we draw one of his favourite animals, then he scribbles over it. Our fish are of the single-swooping line variety, and after watching us do this over and over again, he made a very passable attempt at it. See, in the bottom left, the massive head/body and the tiny triangular tail? And the eye? How clever is he?

Day 35 - Milk please!

2010-08-28T00:21:00.001+01:00

(Monday August 23rd)

Not much happened today, my hayfever tablets stopped working and/or I started to come down with a cold.

In communication news, J-cub used signing for the first time without prompting or seeing something that he knows the sign for. It was a few hours after he'd woken up, when (if I was on the ball) I would normally have started asking him if he was ready for bed. I'd said nothing, and so he let me know it was time by coming over to the sofa, picking up a cushion and placing it on the floor, then sitting on it and signing 'milk'.

We spent the rest of the day mostly covered in chalk.

Day 34 - New boots

2010-08-27T23:48:00.005+01:00

(Sunday August 22nd)

During our trip to Asda the other day we scored J-cub his first pair of Wellington boots for the bargainous price of £4. They're probably not terribly good for his feet at that price but his feet grow so fast that he'll be out of them soon, and I'm sick of having to stay inside when it's raining because he doesn't have appropriate footwear.

We tried them out in the rain-sodden garden and they were deemed a great success. He still can't make the trike go forwards though.

The rain had been disastrous in our garden: the stand which was supporting a growbag full of strawberries and 2 pots of tumbling cherry tomatoes collapsed, pulling down the French bean wigwam which had trained itself around the top bars.

While J-cub investigated here and there...

I righted the growbag (the strawberries survived), chucked out all the slug-eaten tomatoes, and harvested all the French beans. I cut the grass and got the garden back to a baby-friendly state, seconds before it started to pour with rain again.

We had a lovely stir-fry of French beans (amongst other foods) for dinner, I'm just gutted that that'll be the last of them now.

(This is my 200th post! Should really be something more momentous, really.)

Day 33 - Chalk it up...

2010-08-27T23:32:00.004+01:00

(Saturday August 21st)

J-cub's passion for drawing has been taken up a notch by the purchase of some chunky chalks. No more little tiny pieces of crumbly, edible chalk which he can barely hold and which make hardly a mark on the old blackboard. Instead, these lovely things make chalking J-cub's new favourite activity.

We tried to instil a rule whereby if he used chalk on anything other than the blackboard (the carpet, the TV, my shoulder...) it would be immediately removed. Cue screaming tantrums and frantic pointing and grunting at the box of chalks. Even attempts at doing alternative activities (like nappy changing, eating or sleeping...) elicited J-cub's first self-invented sign, a very precise finger-wiggle in the air, just like scribbling on a blackboard.

Returning the piece (or pieces) of chalk to him made him extremely happy. I think we've created a monster.

Day 32 - Ringslinging

2010-08-26T17:13:00.004+01:00

(Friday August 20th)

Probably stemming from a lack of sleep yesterday, J-cub was very clingy today. I had tons to get on with, but he didn't want to be left alone for a second. This is getting to be more and more the norm, with our time in the living room spent with me watching J-cub play, because he doesn't want interference from me, but equally he doesn't want me to do anything else. If I pick up the laptop, he slams the lid of it shut. If I pick up a book, he tears it out of my hand and throws it away.

He does love reading together, and drawing together, and singing nursery rhymes etc, but most games descend into rough and tumble play which can get a bit too rough and tumbly for my liking. The boy loves headbutting, and biting, and smacking, and throwing things. I'm not too keen on any of these.

So I'm taking to babywearing more and more around the house, in an attempt to keep up with day-to-day housework whilst simultaneously having nice calm, gentle cuddles with no violence. J-cub's favourite job is washing up, he especially likes it if I let him hold his hand under running water and flick bubbles around. But he's equally content to sit and watch, as long as I keep up a running commentary or sing to him. Today, the Mei Tai was in the car and it was raining, so I gave the ring sling another go. I'm not overly keen on the ring sling, it's not great for long carries as one-shoulder carries are uncomfortable with a heavy toddler, and I'm not experienced enough to stop worrying that he's going to fall out.

Today, the ring sling and I (and J-cub) clicked. I managed to get him in a really comfortable, secure position on my hip, and after some ring-positioning practice, got him onto my back. He sat there perfectly happily, resting his head on my shoulder and watching me work. It was lovely.

We had to go out to Asda later for some bits and bobs, and I took the ring sling as it was still raining and there's very few parent and child parking spaces. I got him in the sling quickly and put my waterproof coat on top of both of us. He stayed there happily until the excitement of several babies being pushed around the children's clothing aisle got too much for him and I had to switch him into the trolley.

I'm now kicking myself that at the last NCT Nearly New sale I attended, I passed up a beautiful Ellaroo ring sling for the bargainous price of £9. Instead I have a cheap and extremely thin plain cotton one for about £3 from ebay. I suppose it does the trick, but it would be so nice to have something a bit more sturdy. I'll be at the sling table at the next sale with bells on.

Day 31 - Monkey legs

2010-08-26T16:48:00.005+01:00

(Thursday August 19th)

An important First today - First day of No Naps. Gah. J-cub usually sleeps for at least 2 hours in the morning, near enough 2 hours on the dot from when he wakes up, and still often has a 2 hour nap in the afternoon too. I knew this morning was going to be a bit out of sync, as we had a playdate planned for 11am at a soft play centre about 30 minutes drive away. J-cub had shown no sign of being sleepy before we left, so I hoped he would nap in the car and not be too grumpy when we got there.

No such luck - wide awake all the way there and practically bouncing off the walls when we got inside. My lovely friend Rhian and her daughter Poppy were already there, and we quickly chucked the little ones into the toddler area and got on with some good chatting. Poppy and J-cub were both so full of beans that we got just as much of a workout as they did, climbing up slopes and ladders after them, sliding down slides, getting stuck at the very top and having to ask young children to show us the way down.

We broke for lunch and Poppy put J-cub to shame by perfectly eating a plate of cheese and tomato pasta using her fork to spear and eat every single piece. J-cub enjoyed holding his fork in one hand and shovelling in beans on toast with the other. He did manage to eat the whole meal without throwing any on the floor, so that's a start.

After some more playing we called it quits and left for home. J-cub slept for less than 10 minutes (car-induced sleep rather than a proper nap, so it doesn't count), and came into the house wide-awake and bouncing.

We'd picked up a parcel from the sorting office on the way, and it was some goodies from Babykind. I'd never bought anything from them before, but someone recommended them to me as having cheap postage and as I only needed a few things, I was pleased not to have to double the cost of my order with postage costs. For orders under £20, they charge just £1 postage which is very unusual. I needed some nappy sanitizer, a new mesh bag for the nappy pail, some Babylegs (not strictly needed, but they were on offer) and some old Green Parenting magazines. My order came to just over £20 so I paid the £2 postage, and when I picked up the parcel I was gobsmacked to see it had cost them over £8 to send it. It's definitely worth a look at their informative and well-stocked online shop, and there's tons of bargains to be had if you've got the time to wade through their massive list of bargain items.

J-cub's favourite item was his ToodleBugz, baby leg warmers covered with monkeys. He's still loving pretending to be a monkey at the moment, and having legs covered with monkeys led to much hilarity all afternoon.

J-cub went to bed at his usual time of 7pm, not appearing any more tired than usual. I was shattered.

Day 30 - The boy eats curry

2010-08-18T20:39:00.003+01:00

Ahhh it's so lovely to be up to date and only have one blog post to write today.

It's Jamie's day off today, and we kicked off the morning with a couple of hours play, as per usual, followed by an awesome three hour nap, which rather left me and Jamie twiddling our thumbs once we'd finished our usual showering/shaving/dressing/make-uping/tidying/cleaning routine. I do wish J-cub would tell us when he's going for a long sleep.

Still, at least it meant that by the time he'd woken up, had his lunch and got dressed, he had no time to make a mess of the lovely tidy lounge before we went out. We went to see some friends who bravely have three children, and spent the afternoon being dragged in various directions by all four of them, whilst attempting to maintain some semblance of adult conversation at the same time. It was lovely though, but J-cub got a bit overtired and grouchy when he wanted the blue ball, and Seren had the blue ball, and he didn't want the orange ball, even though it was identical, and Seren didn't want the orange ball, and she wouldn't give up the blue ball, and they had a big bawling screaming fight. Seren is 2 and a half and should know better. She should hide her balls before J-cub comes to visit.

J-cub absolutely adored their big trampoline, and actually seemed to know how to bounce on it. He liked falling down on it too:

By the time he ran out of steam it was gone 4pm, and we decided to venture into town rather than go straight home, and have dinner out somewhere. We had a quick scout round Toys R Us for a present for a friend's child, then crossed the road to Sainsbury's (oooh the glamour) for our tea. We found that children's meals were just £1 with any adult meal, and we ordered chicken curry and rice for J-cub (it also came with a Fruit Shoot and some fruit, bargain). I may have mentioned before that whilst we've been going through this J-cub-not-eating phase, nursery have reported that he'll happily eat curry, chilli, stew, all kinds of things which he wouldn't dream of touching at home. So we wanted to put him to the test. We had to wait AGES for the food to appear, which made us wish we'd spent another pound to get the child's snack meal to entertain him in the meantime. We managed to unearth some snacks from his change-bag though...

And when the chicken curry arrived, he tucked in with gusto. Using a real adult-sized spoon and fork, he wolfed it down. See, he can eat!

We were just about to leave when it started to hammer down, and with no coats or hats or raincovers we had to splash out (get it) £6.99 on a lovely new golfing umbrella. J-cub thought it was the best thing he'd ever seen:

We managed to get home dead-on 7pm, gave him a bottle, changed him and threw him into bed. It only took him another 2 hours of burbling and playing to fall asleep...

Day 29 - Blog update

2010-08-18T01:09:00.005+01:00

(Tuesday August 17th)

I'm about to publish 19 new posts, written over the past few days, cobbled together and had photos added to today. If you want to read them in the right order, you need to go back to Day 11 and scroll up. I think it's 3 pages back.

Thanks to Emily and Rach P for giving me a little kick to get on with it, there's nothing like someone telling me they're reading the blog/missing my posts for me to think "Argh, I haven't written anything for WEEKS!".

It's just gone 1am and I'm shattered.

But J-cub said "Tilly" this morning, so it's not all bad ;)

I apologise in advance for the (poor) quality of my writing, the fact that some posts are quite scanty, any typos which I haven't caught, and the abundance of smilies. Sometimes, needs must.

Give me some comments, go on, you know you want to. It gives my life meaning again. And virtual cake tastes delicious.

Good night.

Day 28 - Shopping and signing

2010-08-18T00:55:00.004+01:00

(Monday August 16th)

J-cub and I went on a much-needed trip to Tesco today. We've been home for a whole week and managed not to do any food shopping at all, so the cupboards were quite literally bare. I had a massive shopping list and a very tired baby, but no other time to do it so we didn't have much choice.

Despite his tiredness, J-cub was a little angel. On arrival, we walked from the car to the front of the store to get a trolley. J-cub walked next to me, holding my hand. He's never done that before, he thinks hand-holding is the devil's work and usually refuses point blank or tries to pull his arm off. Today, after a little squeal, he accepted I wasn't going to change my mind and he walked happily along. It was all hot and sunny, and loads of people were smiling and cooing at him. And I must admit, he was quite the little cool dude:

He put up with sitting in the trolley for nearly an hour, he only threw a few things on the floor, and he happily chewed on a bag of frozen peas when his gums got too much to bear.

My Proudest Mummy Moment Ever came when we got to the checkout, I pushed the trolley up next to the conveyor belt, and started unloading. J-cub turned around, saw what I was doing, and started helping. Seriously. He took all the items he could reach and carefully placed them on the conveyor belt. Except for the baby spinach, which he threw on the floor. I also rescued the eggs from his grasp, just in case. But other than that, he was amazing! He got a yummy and very un-baby-friendly jam-filled Welsh cake for his troubles.

When we'd put all the shopping back in the car, we returned the trolley and walked up to Boots to get some bits and bobs. Again, he walked along, holding my hand. We encountered two small dogs, and J-cub barked at them. Really. His animal noises now include monkey ('Eeee-eeee-eeee'), cat ('eooooow'), snake ('sssssss') and dog ('oooo oooo'). He had a mini-meltdown in Boots but quickly fell asleep when we got back in the car.

Later on, when Jamie was home, we played our new favourite game of Google image search. This involves one parent sitting where they can't see the laptop, while the other searches for ducks, or monkeys, or fish, or whatever. And the other parent has to guess what it is from J-cub's signs/sounds.

Previously, he'd done monkey.

Tonight, he signed giraffe, fish, crab, lion, apple, baby, nappy and milk, and made sounds for dog, cat, snake and monkey, and said 'Duck'. At the end of the game, the buzzer sounded indicating his milk was warmed. He picked up a cushion, lay down on the floor with it and signed 'milk'.

I'm so so happy we've stuck with the baby signing, it's amazing to be able to communicate with him all of a sudden.

Day 27 - "Garden!"

2010-08-18T00:51:00.003+01:00

(Sunday August 15th)

We've been talking recently about J-cub's lack of language, having read that at 18 months you should expect a child to have between 6 and 20 words. J-cub barely has 3, if you count 'Mama', 'Dada' and 'Uh-oh!'. I know you shouldn't worry about this sort of thing, and I also know that babies who sign speak later. But when I hear tales of similarly aged babies having numerous words it does make me worry.

Today J-cub took a step forward by standing by the stairgate into the kitchen, pointing outside and saying very firmly "Garden!". We immediately reinforced it by taking him into the garden, and he now asks to go out regularly. It's lovely.