Typing

You wouldn't belive it, but until today, I've never been able to produce anything inteligable when I've set fingers to computer keyboard. I've always relied on my amanuensis - Daddy.

But now I have proof that my own fingers are up to the job. Here it is: every letter typed by myself - Daddy just helped with locating the letters. Oh, and reminding me which order they like to appear in; and which ones to press!

Safari Park

On my Birthday, Mummy and Daddy and Granny and Aunty L and Aunty A took me to the Safari Park (or Safari Car Park as I keep calling it - not inappropriately if you look at the queues to get round it during busy times). We saw several big bad wolves. What do you think they are looking at? (Clue: it wasn't Little Red Riding hood).

There's the answer!


The elephant posed for Aunty L to take a picture.


And the giraffe collected his order from the drive-by!

My Birthday

It was my birthday on Monday. "Two in April", as I've been telling everybody. Here's the official birthday portrait, taken two years-exactly-to-the-minute after I was born.

With great age comes great responsibility, so I though I ought to start cultivating a grown up look. What do you think?
I had my favourite breakfast - Seedy bread and butter.

And Mummy made me a fantastic cake: nice enough to live in! (This was at tea-time, not breakfast time)

Shopping

In Asda today:

"What's this Mummy?"
"I think you know what those are!"
"Mummy, please have Barbie cakes for party"

(It's my Birthday next week, in case you haven't remembered)

Sharing with Mummy

Granny is a pushover. I only have to look in the direction of Greggs the Bakers in town, and she buys me a cake. Or sometimes a biscuit, as she did the other day when I went shopping with her an Mummy.

Only being a nibble-of-the-corners hungry, I soon handed the chewed biscuit to Mummy, who looked at it hungrily. Anybody would think I sometimes forgot to leave bits on my plate after meals for her. I didn't see what she did with it, but later on, I began to feel peckish again.

"Mummy, Bic-Bic, please", I said, being careful of my manners.

"Mummy's eaten all the Biscuit. You said you didn't want it." I hadn't said that at all. Mummy just takes advantage of my uncertain pronunciation when it suits her.

What to do? Then I thought of the Mummy penguins I read about with Daddy in his animal book.

"Spit it out then", I said.

Nightime diversions

I'm getting a little better a settling to sleep now, but I still have to go and see Mummy and Daddy a couple of times every night. They don't seem pleased to see me.

My favourite requests at the moment are for Daddy to "Tell a little story" or "Sing a little Song". Or in my more incoherent moments "Tell a little song" and "Sing a little Story"!

My Dark Side

Mummy and Daddy have been seeing a little of my dark side recently. Fittingly enough, it happens in the middle of the night. Around 3am.

I get fustrated because I can't sleep. I go to get Mummy or Daddy, and they come into my room to try to help, but often it gets too much. Last night I composed a kind of song, set to my roaring in fustration that Daddy was in the room and not Mummy. It went something like this:

Mummy come in soon
Mummy come in soon
Mummy come in soon
Mummy come in later

Chorus:
No like Daddy anymore
No like Daddy anymore
No like Daddy
No like Daddy
No like Daddy anymore

Hurt finger
Mummy come in soon
Hurt finger
Mummy come in soon
Mummy come in soon

Hurt toe
Mummy come in later
Hurt toe
Mummy come in later
Mummy come in later

etc.

My contribution

It suddenly struck me this morning how much I contribute to family life.

I often make sure Daddy dresses himself properly in the mornings. Things like finding his shoes for him, fetching his glasses, useful things like that.

And so, as I handed Daddy his belt this morning, I reminded him:

"The things I do..."!

Educating Mummy

Sometimes I wonder about my parents. Take yesterday for example.

I was digging a hole in my corner of the lounge.

"What are you doing?", says Mummy.
"Digging a hole"
"Why?", asks Mummy.
"In garden"
"Why?", asks Mummy.
"Put Cherry in"
"Why?" asks Mummy. Persistent isn't she?
"Make it grow"
"What will it grow into?"
"A Tree!".

Honestly. Doesn't she know anything?

New bed

Two weeks ago, I stopped being a baby, and became a little girl.
Here are the pictures to prove it.

Note that I was only pretending to sleep.

This is what a bed is really for:

The best thing is that I don't have to wait for Mummy and Daddy to come and get me in the morning. I can take the party to them, as it were...

Breakfast time is story time

You wouldn't have thought there was much scope for the imagination in a bowl of breakfast cereal would you?

Think again.

Meet Sophie and Susie. There they are in the picture, between my fingers: they were my friends for the morning, until the milk made them too soggy, and they went squishy. They are rice crispies.

I told Daddy all about them, whilst I was eating the other crispies. Then Sophie and Susie went for a ride on the Spoonmobile.

Susie even bounced around the edge of my bowl, and played "bouncy ball, catch" with Sophie.

Me in the snow

Someone asked for snaps of me in the snow.
Well here you go.

It was jolly cold,
And as I'm not very old
I had to wrap up warm
From the effects of the storm.

You'll see Mummy on a sledge-
"Watch out- there's a hedge"-
And me in my blue suit
With wellies to boot!

Getting out of it: the direct approach

Sometimes the humorous approach to getting out of it doesn't work. Then you have to fall back on the direct approach. Like this:

Mummy was quizzing me on her favourite subject (my nappy).

"I'm reading a book", I said, "Mummy go in kitchen"

She ought to know her place.

Hospitality

Mummy had some friends visit her today. Usually I like visitors. But this friend had a baby, and it crawled. Towards me. So when the friend said she'd have to leave I agreed:

"Go home. Bye Bye"

And when they finally got up to leave, I said

"Hooray. Watch Noddy!"

Conjunctions

I've been going through Daddy's grammer book recently (made sense after I'd read the book on Punc-tu-a-tion). I've been learning about conjuctions. So when I want Daddy to give me Rice Crispies with my Cornflakes, I have to say

"And Crispies And Cornclakes"!

Another example:

Mummy: "What do you want for tea, Peas or Beans?"
Me: "And Peas and Beans and Peas"

Getting out of it

Sometimes I'm busy when Mummy asks me to do something (or tells me that something is going to be done to me). It is inconvenient, and I don't want to. But for the good of both parties, it is best to avoid direct confrontation.

I've found that humour is a good technique to try. My favourite example recently:

Mummy: "Can I smell something?"
Me: "Teddy" [or "Dolly", or "Daddy"!]
Mummy: "I think it's you. Come with Mummy, and we'll change your nappy."
Me: "No thank you, Mrs Tubby Bear!"

Inspired, don't you think? I think I must have got that one from my Noddy videators.

(Note if you want to try this at home: If it's Daddy you're talking to, you need to say, "No thank you, Mr Tubby Bear")

Knowing Me, Knowing You!

Me and You are two words that will not stay in the right order.

So I say to Mummy, "Mummy, read book to you".

Mummy replies "Read book to me".

And I think, "I can't read the book to you, I want you to read it to me.". But anyway, she still seems to get the message.

Apologising

Some words are more important than others, so important in fact, that they insist on being used all the time. Words like "Sorry", for example.

So this evening, as I walked passed Mummy I squashed her foot a bit. Now I'm sure I didn't hurt her, but that word insisted on coming out.

"Sorry Mummy. Trod on you!"

More Guess what?

What's this?


A radiator!

Now you should be able to guess what this is:



A videator!

It plays Noddy and Postman Pat Videos! 

Guess what?

What is this?

A Fridge! What's this?

A Full Stop! And do you know what this is?

Well, it's a star now, but it used to be called an Uppa. As in
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,
How I wonder what you are,
UP Above the world so high...

So there you go.