Fetes are great

Having got over our yucky stomach flu, we headed off to see Jacob's future wife in Cardiff.  Our lovely friend Claire had made us some beautiful pink cupcakes to celebrate our pink news (I'd like to preface this by saying that whilst I'm happy to receive and eat pink cupcakes etc, I don't approve of gender stereotyping and the practice of making all girl's toys/clothes pink, so this child will be happily clothed in Jacob's cast-off clothes and as many non-pink outfits as I can find!  I'm sure some pink will creep in, in the same way that I wear pink as much as I wear any other colour.  It's the total head-to-toe pinkness that drives me crazy - I don't think I could cope!) and we discussed the impending babyness while Jacob and Amelia cavorted around and refused to eat any lunch.

We then braved a local Scout fete (Jacob's first fete), which challenged all Jacob's powers of Doing Something New (screaming fit after screaming fit, until he realised that he might actually Get Stuff if he joined in), and we had to give up on 3 years and 3 months of perfect parenting when Jacob was given his first sweet (a hard lollypop) and his first crisps (unsalted).  He was over the moon to win a puppy bag on the soft toy tombola - he'd just seen a child carry away a huge Winnie the Pooh (current obsession) and we had to carefully explain that he couldn't choose what toy he wanted, he would win one.  Despite this, as soon as he'd chosen his ticket he exploded into excitement over the potential to have a puppy (having seen a puppy toy lying around), and we breathed a sigh of relief when the girl handed him a puppy.

(I've managed to prise the puppy out of his sweaty grasp to wash it overnight [it didn't smell very clean] but otherwise, he hasn't let it go since.  And it took several hours for him to come down from the sugar high).

His fear of all things Fete was totally overcome when the loudspeaker requested participants for an adult tug-of-war, and Jacob ran at top speed towards the ring, screaming that he wanted to pull the rope ;)

We passed an ice cream stand on the way back, and stopped for some refreshing lollies (our fear of him having sweets doesn't extend to ice creams, for some reason.  I don't know what's wrong with us, really!).

... and Amelia practised her Zombie-tongue look ready for Hallowe'en.

Both of them crashed out on the sofa when we got back (note the puppy, still firmly grasped) with a bit of Ben and Holly, while we ate more cupcakes and drank more tea...

... and Amelia's marionette made friends with her cat.

We left there before tea time to make a quick stop (ha!) in IKEA on the way home.  We eventually arrived home at 8.45pm.  Pregnant ladies can't stay out that late, it wears us out.  And 3-year-old boys don't even protest when they're taken out of the car, plonked on the potty, then stuffed unceremoniously into bed.

It was Jacob's first full day out of the house in pants - not a pull-up in sight.  He coped admirably, going to the toilet whenever we suggested it and happily using adult-sized toilets and hand-dryers in public loos.  Just over 3 weeks, and I'm very tentatively saying that we have a potty-trained child :D

Good night.