My Holiday

Sorry for the long gap between posts, by the way. I've been on Holiday you see. This time to a place somewhere between Weymouth and Bournemouth. Here's me on a ride at Weymouth Sea Life Park, which is well worth a visit.

Hide and Seek

My cousin (give or take a few Firsts, Seconds or once-removeds) Leila has being playing with me all this week. Today we played hide and seek. She hid first. But then I lost her, and I cried.

Next it was my turn to hide. I wanted to make sure she didn't suffer the same kind of trauma as I did, so I said

"I'm going upstairs to hide under the duvet. Count to ten, them come and find me."

I was not long tucked up, when Leila and Mummy clumped up the stairs and started prodding around in the bedroom.

"Where's Sophie gone?" I heard Mummy say.

"I don't know, I can't see her anywhere" replied Leila.

"Oh honestly!" I thought. Then, out loud: "I told you where I am. I'm hiding under the duvet on the bed!"

Two heads are better than one

Morning Song

I usually speak to my Granny (my normal Granny as I say, to distinguish her from my great Granny) when Mummy phones her in the morning.

Granny is full of little rhymes, as, I suppose, good grannies are trained to be. Classics like
Nightie, Nightie
Sleepy Tightie
Mind the Bugs don't Bitie!

and
See you later alligator
(and I reply) In a while crocodile.

One morning she surprised me with the new tale of Fuzzy Wuzzy:
Fuzzy Wuzzy wuz a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wuzn't Fussy, wuz he?

"I've never known Granny so bright and bouncy!", I told Mummy

A discovery

Don't those clothes look pretty! Well, they might do. But there's something more exciting about them: I can take them off by myself. This was the day when Mummy kept my clothes on me for about an hour at most. I kept surprising her with a "Peek-a-boo", and the sight of me in my birthday suite.

One time I had to go outside to find her.

"Ooo. It's a bit windy out here", I said, as the wind got one layer closer to me that it usual does.

First in the queue

It was my Great Great Aunty Joan's ninetieth birthday last week. We went along to help her eat the cake. I made sure I was close by, just in case she wasn't sure which bit was best for me.

Missing Daddy

Daddy's been working very hard recently. At least, he's been at work a lot, which I suppose is the same thing. Sometimes he's left before I've even got up. That means that Mummy has to give me my breakfast, and she's not nearly so well trained.

"This breakfast isn't much good", I said sadly.

"Thanks Sophie!", huffed Mummy

"Well, its alright I suppose, but it isn't as nice as Daddy's", I said, by way of comforting her. "I think Daddy said he'll be home for teatime, but I can't remember"

I've been up to London to visit the Queen

A couple of weeks ago, Daddy went up to London on business (I thought I'd write that, to make him feel important when he reads it!). Mummy and I tagged along in his suitcase.

Whilst he worked, we played. We took in Saint Paul's cathedral, the Millenium bridge (which didn't bounce nearly enough), the London Eye, and then, after a mad dash accross Westminster bridge (and a wrong turn into Downing Street), the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.

Mummy overheard a tour guide telling his crowd that "this was the absolute best spot to see it all from". So Mummy pushed me in there quick. And we had a lot to see. HM was recieving VIPs that day, and they arrived by golden coach (I checked for telltale pumpkin leaves sprouting from the top) topped with a full compliment of footmen.

"That's how you get to see the Queen, Sophie", Mummy said to me. "You have to be important and go in a coach."

"No Mummy, I'll just go and knock on the door", I replied with the confidence of one who always has time for visitors.

"I don't think she'd answer", said Mummy.

"Yes she would", said I, undaunted. "I'll just go round the back!"

Hanging out

"Those are pretty knickers. Those must be mines!"

Swinging

There's a song to sing on a seesaw,
But what to sing on a swing?

Peekaboo

Peekaboo. I see you

"Let me think!"

A name I call myself

A conversation I had with Daddy:

"How are you today Daddy?"

"I'm fine, thank you. How are you [my name here]?"

"Actually Daddy, I have a name called Sophie!"

And that made me think. I don't like using my real name when I'm writing because it's a bit unusual, and people might copy it for themselves! All through my holiday last week (which I'll be telling you about soon), I've been calling myself Sophie: Mummy and Daddy took a while to get used to it, but they've cottoned on.

So now I've decided I'll call myself Sophie on my blog. It's a lot prettier than "[my name here]"!

Still Choosey

Mummy still needs practice with this choosing business. So today I set out all my best food in a delectable line across the carpet.

"Choose whatever you like, Mummy!" I said.

"I'll have chicken and a fried egg, please", she said (aren't her manners coming along nicely!). But she obviously wasn't listening carefully enough:

"No Mummy," I told her, "Can't have that. You only like Chicken!"

Precision!

Busy Girl

Whose business should I be minding?

Making Music

I love music.

I love listening to music on the radiator (Daddy sometimes serves up Radio 3 along with my cornflakes). I'm always asking Daddy to play "tap-tap" when we get in the car ("tap-tap" is my short-speak for "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands tap tap").

It's great sitting on Mummy's lap helping her play the piano, sometimes even with my feet. And dancing to Daddy's accordion music is such an exciting way of exercising.

But there is nothing quite like making music ones self. This morning I found that throwing a box with a metal lid onto the floor made a lovely boioioioioioing noise.

"What sort of music is that?" I asked Daddy.

"Experimentalist music, I think" he said.

Growing up, slowly

As I was walking down stairs this morning (one hand holding the stair rail, the other, Daddy's hand), Daddy said to me,

"You are a big girl now"

"Not big enough", I sighed.

Later, as Daddy was putting my breakfast on the table, I decided that I was big enough to begin to exercise a woman's perogative.

Daddy had already asked me which spoon I wanted to eat my cornflakes with. At my request, he'd given me my Winnie-the-pooh spoon. But as Daddy lifted me into my big-girls chair, I said

"Sorry Daddy, wrong spoon. Need Nemo spoon"

Daddy directed at me that expression that I'm told will become familiar to me as the "Women!" expression. Then he dutifully exchanged my spoon.

Signs

Learning to read is fun, but its a slow, letter-by-letter business. Daddy and I share the work sometimes: he tells me what the word is, and I tell him what the letters are.

One of my favourite things at the moment is reading signs.

What does this one say?

Both of them

"Get Puzzles and Doll's house please, Mummy"

I already had one box of toys out, so I was pushing it a bit; but worth a try anyway.

"You can't have both of them. Which one do you want? Puzzles or Doll's house?"

"Doll's house and Puzzles!"

"You can only have one or the other. If you have the Doll's house, you can't have the Puzzles. So which one do you want?"

"Doll's house"

So Mummy reaches up to fetch it for me.

"And puzzles", I say.

No use crying over spilt ...

I'm currently training Mummy to provide me with a potty, rather than with Nappies. It's much more civillised, but occasionally less convenient.

Today, for example, as I was playing outside, I was much too busy to mention to Mummy that she might like to bring out my portable loo. Shortly thereafter Mummy looked at me with an expression.

"Don't worry, Mummy," I said. "Just wet knickers, and wet floor. I'll sweep it up".

I did go to get the broom, but Mummy didn't seem to think that my help was necessary.