Eye Spy

On our way to Tumble Tots every Tuesday we walk along a pretty path through the fields. Today, to pass the time, I launched a game of "I Spy" with Mummy.

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with E", I said.

Mummy looked all around, and then, "I can't see anything beginning with E".

"It's Elephant", I announced.

"I can't see any elephants", said Mummy

"Mmm ... but it begins with E".

Time for something easier. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with G".

"Grass", said Mummy, straight away.

"Well done!", I said, to encourage her - she had been quick. "It does begin with G. But its not that. It could be Goat. That begins with G. But there aren't any goats."

Mummy tried again. "Gate, then", she said.

"No" I said. I could see she was struggling, though we were walking past the very place I'd spied. I had to tell her. "It's Garden Centre".

My special day 2008

That's your hint. Guess whose special day it was last week? And for bonus points, deduce how old I am now. A very big girl as you can see.

I was overwhelmed with the many tokens of appreciation. They came flooding in. I kept telling people: "Thank you very much. That's all I ever wanted!"


Mummy arranged a very nice birthday party for me and a handful (if you have big hands) of my closest friends. I had decided several days in advance that I wanted a butterfly painted on my face at the party, and I wasn't disappointed with the result.

The best thing about my Birthday was that I had not one, not two, but three Birthday cakes (five if you include the ones I was allowed to blow out, but not eat, at the two toddler groups I frequent).

My favourite one was this one that Mummy lovingly handcrafted for me. I'm sure you recognise who it is, even though she is upside down in this picture:

Got him!

Mummy bangs on the bathroom door.

"Daddy", I say, "There's a mouse in your bedroom".

I hear Daddy, fumbling to get out of the shower. He opens the bathroom door, and pokes his head around, modesty preserved by a towel.

"April Fool!", I laugh.

Credits:

Original Storyline : Granny (who made me run to the window to look at Hot Air balloon which wasn't there)
Script : Mummy
Custom and Hair Dressing : Mummy
Dumb Daddy : Daddy
Hero Comedienne : Me

Wedding outfit

I went to a wedding today. It was in a barn! They'd taken all the animals out though, and cleaned it up, and put a nice wooden floor down and carpets. In fact, I should think it was a long time ago that cows and sheep were last allowed in. It was called The Great Tythe Barn.

Mummy got me a nice new dress, and some friends bought me a new pair of shoes. Do you like the outfit?

Aging visibly

"I'm a big girl now," I said to Granny.

"Oh," said Granny "why's that?"

"I've got a hair on my leg, like big girls have", I replied proudly. "Look!"

Granny dutifully admired it. A few minutes later, Mummy came in. I told her all about it, and asked her if she wanted to see. But to my embarrassment I couldn't find it.

"Would you like a magnifying glass?" Mummy asked, helpfully. I have a suspicion a smile considered passing across her lips, but thought better of it. Together we scrutinised my leg, until finally Mummy put her finger on that all-important sign of my increasing maturity.

Unexpected Pleasure

Mummy and I had a very long cuddle this afternoon.

Mummy said "This is nice: you don't normally let Mummy cuddle you".

I had taken myself rather by surprise. I said "Yes. I can't think why. I'm rather enjoying it!"

Adventuring

Pigging it

Mummy, my cousin and I wanted something to do the other day. It was my Great Grandad's birthday. What better thing to do than make him a birthday cake. A birthday cake such as he's never had before! I'm sure I don't need to explain the result to you. But my Great Granny did wonder aloud why there were three houses!

(I made the grass and the numbers, by the way)

Cooking

Having been inspired by Pancake day, Mummy and I decided to do more baking today. Here am I kitted out, complete with my "Cook's Wand" to add that magic touch. (In case you're wondering, me made chocolate crispy nest cakes!)

Pancake Day

Pancake day yesterday. Mummy flipped (the pancakes that is!).

Personal Trainer

I've decided that the parents have now reached the age when physical training can begin. I've taken on the burden of getting them into shape.

Thus, yesterday afternoon, had you been in the right place at the right time you would have observed Granny and Mummy trudging through a windswept field, me shouting from up ahead

"Come on. This way", leading them on another lap as I show them how exercise should be done.

And yesterday at tea time, Daddy with a big slice of Thornton's Toffee cake on this plate.

"If you eat all that Daddy, you'll be fat like Mr Greedy." Daddy carries on eating. More vivid methods needed. So I shuffle back in my chair, puff out my chest as far as it will go. "You'll have a fat tummy like this", I point.

Musical Mummy

It's a little known fact, that my Mummy played the violin. She played it today in fact. It's been some years since she last got it out of its box: the A-string had snapped and needed to be replaced.

Today the man in the music shop fixed it for her, and she brought it home. I sat down in anticipation as she got it out of its box and began to tune it up. She drew the bow over the strings.

Awwww-eeee-ooooooh. I just managed to stop my hands going to my ears.

"I think it needs new batteries, Mummy" I said helpfully.

But Mummy shook her head. "It doesn't take batteries."

"Perhaps it needs more new strings," I suggested, "or maybe some food would make it feel better!"

Reading the signs

Car journeys are rather more interesting now that I can see out of the Window. I provide a valuable service to Mummy and Daddy by alerting them to key landmarks as we pass them. It sharpens my sign-reading skills as well.

"Look, Mummy. There's Asda", I might say. Or, "There's a Post Office."

The other day we were driving past some shops and I said "There's a butcher's shop Mummy". Mummy looked at me in surprise.

"How do you know," she asked.

Sometimes these parents do ask dumb questions.

"Because its got meat in", I replied, shutting my mouth before the "duh!" escaped.

Down a peg or two.

Daddy was playing the piano yesterday, and thinking himself rather too good at it.

"Shall I help with you Daddy?", I asked. "I think that's too hard for boys"

Christmas

A few Christmas pictures at last.

Christmas started early for me this year. At the beginning of December we went on a trip to Lapland - in Kent ("Lapland UK", as I told everybody). Father Christmas took time out from bossing his elves to see me; and I helped out Mrs Christmas in her Gingerbread kitchen.

You'll be glad to know that even with those distractions, he still found time to drop off my presents. Perhaps he had help from my other hero to make his deliverys?

Yes! I had a dressing up box for Christmas. Expect many more characters to appear on your screen in the coming months.

Playing with Words

It's not just toys that you can play with: I discovered the other day that words are just as much fun.

Daddy had made me scrambled egg with toast for breakfast. He called me to the table in the dining room, tucked me into my apron (my new Harod's Apron!) and left me to tuck into my food.

But I was feeling a bit lazy that morning, so I called him back to help me.

"Eggward!", I called. Daddy came in looking puzzled.

"Why did you call me Eggward?", he asked.

"Thomas the Tank Engine has a friend called Edward", I said, by way of explanation. And Daddy quickly cottoned on.

"So you called me Eggward, because you wanted me to feed you your egg?". Then, with a twinkle in his eye, Daddy asked "What would you have called me if you wanted me to feed you your bread?"

I chuckled. "Breadward!"

A train ride

Speaking in tongues

Mummy and I were in the supermarket yesterday, checking off the list of things that we needed to stock our cupboards.

"We need petit pois next", Mummy said.

I looked at her, puzzled: "Why are you speaking French, Mummy?" I asked.

"What should I have said?"

"Peas, Mummy".

The magic ingredient

It's that time of year again. The time when, with Christmas still ridiculously far into the future, good housewives suddenly get the urge to start baking the Christmas Cake. So Mummy and I, good housewives that we are, set off for the supermarket.

Into the trolley went the usual currants, cherries, candied peel, along with the flour and eggs and all the other things that I usually add to the mixture by the bag-full.

But I was sure there was something missing. I scanned the shelves, but couldn't see it.

"Mummy, don't we need Christmas for the Christmas cake?"

Bath Time

A regular part of my evening routine is a bath. I like baths. I can teach Dora and Boots how to swim. I can squirt daddy with my Sea horse water pistol. I can scribble a masterpiece on the side of the bath with my bath crayons. But what I can't do is avoid having my hair washed.

"Don't I have to have my hair washed tonight?", I ask hopefully, every night without fail. Six nights out of seven I get the hoped for reply. But on that other night, often, mysteriously, after I have been swimming, Mummy directs a glance at Daddy and says "I'm afraid you do".

Then it begins. Hair drenched; shampoo lathered in; then soap washed out of my hair and into my eyes. I've tried watching my dollies as I wash their hair, to see how they can remain stoical in the face of the ordeal. They manage it even with their eyes open. I don't see how it can be done.

And so from the moment Mummy begins, to the moment Daddy wraps my head in the towel I keep up a constant chorus of "Is it finished yet? Is it finished yet? Is it finished yet?"

And it seems to be working. Hair washing has become noticeably quicker now that I've learnt that the way to Mummy's heart-strings is through her ears.