Nanny, Buppy, Bee Boy Ded

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

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.

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?

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!

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

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

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.