‘There’s SEAWEED in my Bolognese!’
It wasn’t seaweed, it was spinach (pictured), which was swiftly extracted by a shrieking BB and left on the side of [...]
It’s probably not surprising she’s playing up…
Last night marked our ninth consecutive broken night. It all started when BB came down with a bug last Monday, and spent the majority of the day in her nightie on the sofa (pictured). So I expected an unsettled night or two, but not nine. She’s bright as rain now, but the bug has taken her usual night time routine with it. It takes her ages to settle, she cries repeatedly, and then she wakes throughout the night crying out for us. Not what we need when trying to conserve energy for our new arrival in a couple of weeks. Worst still, I’ve got absolutely no idea how to deal with it. It’s probably not surprising she’s playing up – the last month has seen several big changes including a new bed (her old one has been made back into a cot) and graduation from her nursery’s toddler unit to preschool, which unfortunately – and unavoidably – have come at the same time. Add to that impending threat arrival of a brother or sister, and I suppose it’s a recipe for disaster. […]
Is it ok for two-year-olds to have TV viewing habits?
Misery Guts and I are off to a hotel & spa leaving BB in the capable hands of my sister this weekend (and by the sounds of the weather forecast we couldn’t have picked a better time). It’s the first time we’ve left her overnight with anyone other than grandparents, and only the second time we’ve been away on our own without her. As a result I’ve been busy preparing instructions, like a sticky label with the numbers of all her favourite channels next to the TV (pictured). I’m not sure what this says about us as parents. First and foremost is number 71, CBeebies, which promises to get anyone in charge of a small child safely through the day, especially when it’s raining. But as soon as the opening tea-time credits of In The Night Garden appear BB shrieks, which I suspect is less about having grown out of Upsy Daisy, and more about knowing bedtime is looming. So we switch over to number 70, CBBC, where BB loves Tracy Beaker (spoilt brat in a care home – if you’ve never seen it, lucky you) after which she demands ‘the racing cars’, by which she means Top Gear on Dave. The only deviation from this viewing schedule is on Saturdays, when You’ve Been Framed can be found on ITV2. […]
Good manners begin at home
Or in the playground. I write this as my heart aches for the five-year-old son of a friend, who this week stood expectantly in his school playground as a fellow pupil’s mum dished out birthday party invitations, only to find he wasn’t invited. So crushed was he at being excluded, and in such a public manner, that he didn’t want to go into school, leaving his poor mum to pick up the pieces. What is wrong with people? If you can’t (or won’t) invite the whole class to Jimmy’s birthday celebrations, why not hand the invites to the teacher who can – discreetly – put the envelopes in the school bags of the selected few? Perhaps the mum in question prefers the tough love approach, or perhaps a similar thing happened to her as a child and she is taking some sort of revenge. Or, more likely, she just didn’t think. […]
How about a naughty corner…for dads
I feel like a really really crummy mummy. We’ve introduced a ‘naughty corner’ and the expression on BB’s face when she was first put there by Misery Guts will be imprinted on my mind forever (pictured posed by a model, by the way. I’m not that awful).To be honest it’s been a long time coming: discipline up until now has been pretty much zero. Misery Guts has been banging on about a naughty step for a while, and when BB upturned a lunch I’d lovingly prepared for her and threw it straight on the floor it was the final straw.Since we live in flat and have only one step (which is between two rooms and where she likes to sit to watch TV) a corner in the hall away from toys, CBeebies and anything vaguely fun was the only option. I was in a different room when Misery Guts deposited her there and I waited with bated breath, peering round the kitchen door, to see what would happen. […]
