filling his pockets with shells Something has happened in the last week or two. Suddenly I realise that my (mostly) terrific two year old is almost three. In three months he will be three years old. That is just positively ancient and very very grown up. I don’t know if I’m ready! I’ve been watching as the baby section of each store I visit becomes a more distant experience (apart from the times I buy gifts for the massive baby boom my friends are having). The toddler section seems to blur into the ‘big boy’ stuff. The Little Mister is getting a big boy room soon (it’s half done). With…
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(Part of) A day in the life with a 2 and a bit year old.
image The Little Mister is 2 years and 4 months old. Already. That’s 28 months old for those who are good at maths (you don’t want to know how absurdly long it took for me to actually add that up in my head – TIRED). You saw my post on a day in the life of having an almost 2 year old, but now for posterity’s sake (like a snap shot in time to look back on), I feel it’s time for a new instalment. I was… …woken when Mr Unprepared got out of bed early in the morning to get ready and leave for work. The sound of the…
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Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
image Oh, that poor child. Listen to him yelling out in pain! His mother (or father depending on who draws the short straw on any given day) must be too rough with him. He’s only small. Poor thing. IS SOMEONE MURDERING A SMALL CHILD IN THE SHOPPING CENTRE/CAFÈ/SWIMMING POOL/CAR PARK? No, that’s just the sound of a toddler who likes to yell “OW OW OW OW!” whenever he feels like it. Sometimes when he is being told to do something he doesn’t want to do, sometimes when he wants to do something he isn’t allowed to do, but also sometimes just because the mood strikes at some random moment. Any…
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A day in the life with an almost 2 year old.
pic This morning I awake some time just before 7am to the dulcet tones of the Little Mister singing and playing in his cot. I get him out of bed and noticed he’s wet through his nappy, PJs, sleeping bag, fitted sheet and through to the (thank goodness) mattress protector. I chuck everything in the wash immediately and replace his bedding with spares. Aah, nice and fresh. The Little Mister drinks his milk without spilling it and it’s a very proud moment. It’s the little things, y’know? I let him watch a little TV (oh the horror!) while I try to sort out the family budget. The mortgage has just…
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Hair, there and everywhere.
In the 23 months the Little Mister has been on this planet, I swear he’s had more hair appointments than my husband and I combined. See, we did this little genetic experiment. Turns out if you add the genes of two parents with hair that grows fast, you get a child whose hair grows RIDICULOUSLY fast. Everywhere we go, people are all, “Oh wow! Look at his full head of hair!” “Look at that hair!” “Must be time for a hair cut!” To which I’m constantly replying, “He’s just had one.” I always know when it’s TIME. His hair starts getting in his eyes and he bats his hands at…
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What did you say??
pic : “I’m sure he said FIRETRUCK.” At 21 months of age (yes – I’m still talking in “months” which feels awkward but let’s go with it), the Little Mister’s powers of speech are coming along in leaps and bounds. Almost every day he has a new word to learn and attempt. He even has his own little language for the things he can’t quite master. It’s quite a fun age. The other morning his first words of the day were “f*ck f*ck”. Just sitting in his cot, looking happy as Larry to see me. I’m sure he didn’t mean it, but my first words of the day can often be…
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A day in the life.
My life hasn’t exactly been the most scintillating this week. After I had fun being 90s rocker Kez at a music festival on Saturday, followed by the pamper fest that was Mother’s Day, reality has come back to hit me in the face. Today was definitely one of those days! I’ve documented it here in tweets, rather than photos because no-one wants to see my dirty dishes, my bra-less, frumpy “staying in” outfit or the fact that the Little Mister wore his pyjamas ALL DAY. That was the worst night’s sleep ever. Poor Little Mister kept us both awake 🙁 we are buggered. His eyes are all googly. — Kez…