In many ways, I envy all the mod cons of Miss O’s childhood; there’s no need for 30 rounds of ‘I Spy’ in the car when you have an iPad packed with Nick Jr episodes, and how about being able to catch up on your favourite shows WHENEVER you like, rather than hoping against hope that you Dad hasn’t recorded over the tape with the sodding snooker again?
BUT – after reminiscing with J the other night, I’ve realised just how many cornerstones of my youth she will never get to experience, and I’ve got to feel for her a bit!
Those of you who follow my Facebook page (the rest of you should totally come and join us by the way; it’s where all the cool kids hang out…) will know that Miss O recently turned two. And my God, don’t we know it.
The rage, the tears, that perpetual scowl that just screams “WHY ARE YOU RUINING MY LIFE?!” (and of course, plenty of actual screaming; she nearly deafened me yesterday when I suggested that her father’s pants weren’t appropriate headgear for nursery).
I thought I’d be a mum who took it all in her stride. But I wasn’t. I was a mum pushing a pram in the driving rain, crying my eyes out and wondering how on earth I was going to get through the next few weeks, let alone years.
I hoped I’d be a mum who’d say airily “oh, she’ll eat ANYTHING we put in front of her!” But I’m not. I’m a mum who’s seriously considering handing my food shop straight over to the binmen just to save time, and slightly concerned that Miss O will think ALL dinosaurs were made from turkey…
This blog is usually firmly rooted in the ‘toe-curlingly embarrassing parenting mishaps’ category, but I’m shaking things up this week with a post on something that actually went rather well!
On Monday, I took Miss O to an under 5’s cooking class. Technically, I was 7 days late, as I’d set off the previous week with the best of intentions but my Sat Nav dicked about for England, so we ended up turning back 45 minutes later and consoling ourselves with cake at home instead (OK, so not totally mishap-free…)
I don’t know about you, but since becoming parents, we seem to spend about 50% of our lives looking at farmyard animals.
This week, I’ve put together a handy (*spoiler* it’s completely useless) ‘A-Z’ guide to visiting the farm with your toddler:
A is for Aghast – how you will feel when faced with the extortionate entry fee. Read more
I’ve always enjoyed a good giggle at the horoscopes you get at the back of magazines – they’re so fantastically vague, and full of promises of fame, fortune and fabulous lovers winging their way over to you ASAP…
I have to say though, they seem even more unlikely these days!
Here are some of my recent faves:
“A tall dark stranger will ask you to dance…”
PAH!! Justin Fletcher told me to wiggle my bottom this morning, does that count? They certainly don’t get much stranger than him… Read more
Last weekend we attended our first family wedding since Miss O was born. Everything was lovely; the bride looked beautiful, the sun shone, the wine flowed…but bringing your toddler along for the ride really adds a certain something doesn’t it??
As we were staying away for 2 nights, we had to pack everything we owned, naturally, which turned loading the car up into an elaborate game of luggage Tetris. I then spent a hugely enjoyable 2.5 hours wedged between a cool bag, a travel cot and three Paw Patrol cushions watching 23,435 episodes of Bing (I thought we’d moved on from that whiny little fluff-ball and his bean bag chums, but every once in a while his popularity skyrockets again – he’s basically the Craig David of the kid’s TV world). Read more
Yesterday, Miss O got her transfer papers.
And no, she’s not off to Manchester United for a record fee (although they should give it some serious consideration – she’s got one heck of a left kick and can throw herself dramatically to the ground with the best of them).
No, in a couple of weeks time she’ll be moving up to the big group in nursery; the group before pre-school, the ‘bloody hell when did she stop being a baba?!’ group. And even though I knew it was coming, I’ve been really emotional about it (or ‘grumpy and ridiculous’ if you favour my husband’s take on it…) Read more
Those baby milestone cards are everywhere these days – you know, the ‘Today I’m 6 months old!’ and ‘Today I took my first steps!’ type things.
I was never organised enough to buy any and have no idea how people manage to get their babies to pose so nicely with them – Miss O would have either eaten it or projectile vomited all over it before I’d even had a chance to point the camera in her direction…
This week, I’ve had a crack at making my very own ‘Mummy Milestone’ cards:
Having a baby is a real relationship game-changer. On the one hand, I’ve gained a whole new level of respect for the guy who stays so calm after Miss O’s 1458th tantrum of the day (this is usually the point at which I stomp off to sit in the car with a Kit Kat to calm down) and who happily gets up at 5.30am with her so that I can get some extra shut-eye.
But on the other hand, we do things that drive each other absolutely bananas. A lot of these are things that we’ve always done, but hey, if things got a bit tense pre-baby, you could pop out for a nice pub lunch somewhere, or, I don’t know, have an impromptu weekend away in Paris (we never actually did this, but it’s what you like to imagine you’d be doing instead of watching a Peppa Pig marathon, idly wondering why someone hasn’t turned that annoying little oik into sausage rolls yet…)
These days, it’s all a bit more stressful, and frantic, and there’s Lego f*cking everywhere. So those once completely brush-offable bad habits have become REALLY BLOODY ANNOYING. Read more