Tuesday, 17 March 2009

Sod This Crawling Nonsense, I've Gone Straight For The Walking

That's right everyone, as of this morning I am officially a walker and may even never turn out to be much of a crawler at all in the end. Yes, of course its step-step-lurch-stagger-fall headlong into Mummy's arms but it's undeniably walking, baby!

I went to Monkey Business at Tower Park with Mummy, Dan and Clo-Clo this morning and as it was nearly deserted we had the run of the place. And we did run too, Mummy helped me race after Clo-Clo and Ella, as well as fishing me out of the ball pit when the balls started to get a bit high around me. It's a deep ball pit.

But the great moment was when Dan was holding me and Mummy was calling to me from a few feet away. I wanted to have a cuddle so very very much as she is the cuddliest Mummy in the world, and so in the absence of succeeding with all that crawling malarkey there was just no alternative but to take a few stumbly steps.

The feeling as I finally tipped forward into her arms was wonderful. I did it, I really did it!

Next job, figuring out how to climb out of my cot so I can scream right in Daddy's ear at 3 am.

Friday, 6 March 2009

They're Ill, Dave. Everybody's Ill. Everybody's Ill, Dave.

Well, Mummy's on holiday. Of course we're all ill. Daddy's been coughing and sneezing on the couch for four nights so he doesn't disturb me or Mummy, who are spending our nights cuddled up on the bed so I can be propped up and remain reasonably coughing-free. Didn't work all that well last night though, I was mostly up from 2 till 5 am. Coughing. A lot.

Being ill officially sucks.

Tuesday, 3 March 2009

The Big 100

Daddy hadn't noticed until tonight, but as I snuggled into him in my nice cosy bedroom as he was getting me off to sleep I pointed out to him that the previous post to this was in fact number 100! Yes, the Lulu Blog, started off as a way of making Mummy smile and to help those long-distance peeps who live in Yorkshire keep up with my comings, goings and doings, has reached a full century.

So here's to my first 100 posts, from the huge to the tiny, the long to the short, the super-cute to the downright weird. Cheers!

Sunday, 1 March 2009

Philosophical Conundrums

I have been doing some deep musing lately when sat on Daddy's lap. He saw me staring off at nothing yesterday, idly chewing my finger, and wondered what on earth I could be thinking so heavily about. And I explained that it seems to me that I'm at an age where some conundrums of life, the universe and everything need answering.


Why doesn't Mummy ever, ever finish her morning coffee? She takes it outside with her morning cigarette, and brings it back in again undrunk and leaves it nicely within reach so Daddy always has to throw it away before I can get my little hands on it. But why ritually make it every day if you aren't going to drink it?

Why do the silly 'Friends' in the show about the coffee house seem to do the same things over and over again? I've seen them do the same silly things about six times over now, and they never do anything new.

Why can I stand myself up so easily but the moment I let go I fall down?

Why does Daddy like pretending to be Scottish Dwarves so much?

Why doesn't the thing on Daddy's arm wipe clean when he has a shower? I pawed and rubbed at it (and even tried to bite it once) for ages the other day and couldn't make a dent.

How come when Mummy is so good at persuading customers at work to buy shiny new household appliances, Daddy is so good at saying 'No' to her when she tries to persuade him we need them all in our house?

Why does the washing go upstairs but the washing up stays downstairs?

Answers to these deep, soulsearching questions would be appreciated. Anybody?

Saturday, 28 February 2009

Of Relatives And Restaurants

I was pleased to receive a special Award from Mummy and Daddy last week. It was Best Behaved Baby Girl In A Restaurant Ever (Nine Months Category). I am teh Big Girl!

Yep, Grandad B and Granny She came down all the way from Yorkshire to see me, and finally persuaded Mummy and Daddy to abandon their 'no Lulu in restaurants because it isn't fair on the other customers' policy for teatime. So off we went for teatime at the Somerford, and were ushered to the far end of the restaurant to sit round a big round table for our dinner after a bit of a wait.

The highchair the nice lady bought for me was blue, and very open indeed. Not that I can't find ways to circumvent the straps on my own chair at home if I feel like it, but this one made it really easy! However I tipped my hand a bit too soon for my own good with an attempt at the floor, so Mummy tightened up the straps, really tight. I couldn't even get both my feet up on the food tray or anything.

As grownup food takes a while to cook and it was already my dinnertime, Mummy asked the lady to bring me some bread while we waited. So everyone else watched me eat, and looked all envious as I munched my way steadily through a couple of slices of bready goodness. In fact I've taken to plain bread so much now that I keep stealing Daddy's when he has broth for lunch...

Soon however my food arrived. I had a kiddywiddy portion of fish bites, chips and beans, and it was really yummy. Daddy says food always tastes better when someone else cooks it, Mummy says that's just because his cooking isn't very good...

Mummy had a nice healthy salad as she usually does, Amber and Grandad B had the giant Burger thingies, Granny She had a traditional haddock and chips, and Daddy had the Mixed Grill, a meal he describes as being able to make your arteries go "Kerchuuung" just by looking at it for too long. I didn't catch what all of its ingredients were, but there was definitely meat involved. Lots and lots of meat.

Thing was, I didn't go true to form. In fact Daddy wryly remarked that I ate much more neatly and tidily than I do when he feeds me at home. Everyone, the waitress and even the people at the next table (except for the teenage girl who kept worrying loudly about how she looked and if her hair was nice - she was really annoying) said how well I was behaving. And I was quiet too, no shrieking, no yelling or trying to wrench the tray free from the chair - which yes I have to admit is something I do quite often at home.

Unfortunately there was a very naughty boy a few tables down who was much bigger than I am who made far more noise. He was being really mean to his brother and his Mummy didnt seem to want to do much about it, and when she did tell him off he started fake coughing really, really loudly until she stopped. Daddy quietly made a very cutting remark about how well behaved I was by comparison, can't say I blame him really.

Try not to let the glare from my halo hurt your eyes there.

After you have your grownup meal at a restaurant, you can have your pudding as well. Daddy got some pie, Amber had some ice cream and Grandad B and Granny She shared a huge ice cream and even gave me some - my first ever taste of ice cream. It was so yummy I even forgot that I'm not supposed to let anyone who isn't Mummy, Daddy or Amber hold me for more than two minutes and let Granny She hold me the whole way through pudding time!

Once we were done we said goodnight to Grandad B and Granny She and Mummy drove us home, and then she went back to have more time with them. Poor Mummy does miss them very much, she is always upset when they have to leave again and wishes they could be with us for longer.

In the morning I was supposed to get an early breakfast so I could leave room for a brunch (which is like my Tenses used to be before Daddy started giving me my toast instead of a bottle first and then cut them out of our day, the meanie), but wouldn't you know it, I decided to lie in for ages and eat every last crumb of my toast as well, so when everyone else was sitting down salivating at the thought of a nice brunch I wasn't that hungry, so I settled for a slice of Daddy's bread and one of his Hash Browns.

Brunch was at a place called the Cliffhanger. It sits on top of the cliffs that Highcliffe (where Granny and Grandad Williams live) is named after. You can also see Naish, where the famous Conception takes place, from there as well, and even the bits where the cliffs on that side have all collapsed. If it happened this side as well Granny and Grandad would be living in Crumblecliffe or Fallencliffe instead.

Once upon a time Daddy used to walk the whole way from Highcliffe to Barton-on-Sea along the beach. Now you literally can't do that any more because the cliffs have collapsed and jutted so far out into the sea. It started happening during the winter Granny and Grandad moved down, which just happened to be the stormiest winter for decades - bad timing on their part there...

Naish is smaller now than it was back then. This is because it owns the land the collapsing cliffs are part of, and during the scary stormy winter some of its holiday apartments actually fell down the cliffs! I kid you not, there used to be thirty-foot pipe sections jutting out of the cliff wall a few years back, and to this day there is a roadway that used to lead to those apartments which just...ends. Yes, there is a sign and stuff but its still a bit scary, frankly!

Anyway, once again I was a little angel. I really have got this whole eating out business down to a fine art now, I rock at it! In fact I could put certain much bigger people than I to shame, Daddy says. Even when I had finished and should theoretically have been getting ready for my midday nap by getting all snippy, I was still a little angel as long as I was still getting Daddy snuggles. Besides they have a huge mirror behind the bar which kept me entertained for ages :)

However after brunch it was the sad time again (see above). Mummy was very upset about Granny She and Grandad B having to leave, so she went back to the house while Daddy and Amber walked me up to see Granny and Grandad Williams for a nice visit. After an hour or so Mummy came over there too and we had another first - I graciously let Granny and Grandad babysit me for a whole ten minutes while Mummy and Daddy went to look at carpets round the corner. Yes, Amber was there too and her and Granny were sat down on the rug with me and a whole box full of toys, and yes, I didn't realise that Mummy and Daddy had pulled a fast one and slipped out until they were actually backa agin, but that's not the point. It was technically genuine babysitting time, so there's another milestone crossed...

So that was my last week's midweek, you might say. Good food, great rellies and lots of polishing the old halo. It's not a bad old life really, when you think about it.

Friday, 27 February 2009

Daddy Ballet

I've noticed that Daddy seems to have taken up dancing. And no, I don't mean the kind he does at gigs where him and Uncle Pete (especially Uncle Pete!) jump around beating the poop out of everyone else and being generally silly. I mean the proper, genteel kind of dancing, the sort with a bit of culture to it- the Daddy Ballet.

See, what happens is that Daddy has been making a real effort to schedule the washing up to take place between my afternoon kip and lunchtime so there isnt so much to do later on. Sometimes he gets Amber to do it or he does it and she wipes up, or he does it all himself. What this means however is that he is doing this with me in my Speedy 1000 Walker also in the kitchen so he can talk to me and I don't get bored, and so therefore as it's before teatime he is cooking when I'm in there.

That oven thingy looks mighty interesting to me. I don't know why I'm not allowed to investigate it further. Mummy says its a special one which should feel 'mostly' cold from the outside when it's on - Daddy says "Have you ever heard the phrase 'Famous Last Words'?". Don't quite know what he's getting at, but I do know that every time I get the urge to charge headlong into the thing to have a good examine of it, the eyes he says he has on the back of his head swivel round to fix me with their weird stare and his back foot comes out and plants itself squarely in the way of the walker. It's really annoying!

What follows when I get really determined is an oddly elegant little dance. I reverse, and wait for him to turn, then try and edge round again. He does a neat little pirouette and there's that damn foot again, blocking me off. So I grin all innocently, and pull back and pretend to go and investigate something else. Then when he is concentrating on the washing up I go for it again, but he doesn't even look at me before the foot comes out and somehow I'm stymied again. I just can't get where I want to go, all because of Daddy's newfound dancing skills.

Well OK, its not as if there aren't lots of other cool things to investigate in the kitchen, I'll grant you. Soon I will be able to actually lift the sawdust bale off the ground by the tiny little piece of the edge that I can grasp, and then I might get to find out if the sawdust really does taste like chicken. I'm also endlessly fascinated by the spinny qualities of the washing machine, and I'm sure I will get to ride in it one day just like Uncle Julian and Aunty Sue's cat Angel tried to do in their tumbledrier the other day.

But until then, I will have to make do with participating in the Daddy Ballet.

Apologies From Daddy

Daddy has had a bit of a stressy couple of weeks and hasn't really been quite the ticket as regards updating my Blog. This will now change, and he will sort out a good few updates in the next couple of days whenever an opportunity presents itself, such as now over breakfast.

I've got lots to tell you all about, including restaurants, seafront cooing, bunny attacks, cool rellie visits and of course the new dance-form I've managed to inspire - the Daddy Ballet!

Tata for now.

Saturday, 14 February 2009

Why Mummy Is My Valentine

Mummy is my Valentine because she always keeps me so very well entertained first thing in the morning when Daddy is getting my toast ready, even though she is in the fuzzy, just-woken-up place.

Mummy is my Valentine because she has bought me more cuddly toys than you could shake a stick at, and has named them all after her old pets as well.

Mummy is my Valentine because back when I was just a thought in her head she persuaded Daddy to get our bunny rabbits for me to play with.

Mummy is my Valentine because she only played one game during the whole of Conception so Daddy could enjoy himself and I could have five days of total quality time with her.

Mummy is my Valentine because she always cooks me special, extra healthy food when she is home to make dinner, like juicy Broclee on green sticks. This does not make her an Evil Vegetable Witch, no matter what my sister says.

Mummy is my Valentine because she makes sure that she always takes me out at least once every day she is off work so we can have fresh air together, even if it’s in a snowstorm!

Mummy is my Valentine because she is so amazing at throwing the duck’s bread so perfectly that the seagulls fly in and hover just within arm’s reach, thus requiring some very quick reflexes from Daddy when I go for a quick grab.

Mummy is my Valentine because she will use any excuse to have Daddy bring me to work to see her. I know she doesn’t really forget her lunch, her badge, her wallet, her mobile, her painkillers, her other meds and even on one occasion technically her underwear as well because she is a ‘daft plonker’, no matter what Daddy says. I know it’s because she wants to have snuggles with me every single minute that she can.

Mummy is my Valentine because the first thing she wants to do when she comes in from work is give me a great big snuggle, unless of course she really really wants the toilet, which is fair enough really.

Mummy is my Valentine because she always tries to be quiet as a mouse when she comes to bed, even though Daddy says she sounds more like a herd of the animals that are afraid of mice.

Mummy is my Valentine because every time I stir in the night, her hand is always through the cot bars patting me off back to sleep before a nannysecond has passed. And who needs blood circulation anyway?

Mummy is my Valentine because she is always ready for a snuggle, even at 3am when the patting thing hasn’t worked.

Mummy is my Valentine because she will always look after me, so no matter what happens bad things never seem so bad when Mummy is around.

Mummy is my Valentine because she always, always makes it all better when I cry.

Mummy is my Valentine because I love her from the top of my hairy little head to the bottom of my ten tiny little baby toes.

Mummy is my Valentine because I miss her every minute she isn’t there. But it’s OK, because even when she’s not around she is still there inside my head and in every beat of my heart, just like a Valentine should be.

I love you, Mummy. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love, Lulu

The Bestest Mummy In The Whole Wide World

Sunday, 8 February 2009

More Grapes, Jeeves!

You wouldn't think I'm actually strapped into this thing, would you? Hehehe...

Friday, 6 February 2009

Lulu's Conception Report, Part 2

(Filed by our Gaming Correspondent, Daddy)

After the madness of the Thursday night DnD marathon, I was somewhat out of sorts, and not pleased that Daddy went off to actually play a game without us, again! So when we eventually came over to see Daddy where he was being a Goblin warchief in the Main Hall I was already giving it some in a big, big way. Daddy heard me coming (so did everyone else actually) and when he saw me all upset in the buggy and Mummy calmly drinking her coke and chatting to someone he got very annoyed with Mummy and took me out for a cuddle. Wasn't really Mummy's fault, I had only just started 'mimping for effect' as the military parlance has it after all. But he thought it had been going on for a while and could see I somewhat snotty and out of sorts and somewhat overreacted by leaving his game and taking me back to the Lodge, which was probably way too much.

Mummy explained calmly and patiently to Daddy (as you do for the hard of thinking) that she is perfectly capable of taking care of me, ill and mimpy or not, and that there was no need for him to overreact like that. Daddy, as Daddy does once the calm and patient explaining bit is over and done with, hung his head in shame and apologised to Mummy, but then said he thought maybe we should just all go home that night and cut our losses with him only coming back to do LARPs and the Treasure Hunt, and Mummy was sort of in agreement. Well, I wasn't having this - I was on holiday! So I let rip once again, but oddly this seemed to sway them towards going home rather than sticking around like I wanted to...

After lunch, Daddy want off to do the muster and to help the Bad Girlz run their sci-fi parody LARP, 'Firefly Battlestar Deep Space Babylon Seven Gate Wars In The 25th Century - The Next Generation'. He also got to play the scary Foregon Ambassador in a full alien suit, with helmet and everything, for about twenty minutes, and told everyone to kill the Wibbles, who were small furry aliens who were secretly taking people over, before it was too late...these LARP thingies get very complicated if you ask me. Still, he said most people had fun in their silly costumes, even if they did all end up as slaves of the First Wibble Empire in the end.

The Wibbles Triumphant

On Friday evening Mummy persuaded Daddy that we shouldn't go home after all, on the very sensible grounds that there wasn't really much more that could be done to make me feel better at home than at the camp. So he asked her if she was sure, then if she was really sure, then if she was really really sure. I think you can guess the rest. However once it was all over he went over to do evening muster and put up a signup sheet for another run of 'Goblins and Commanders' on Saturday morning, which got filled up double-quick time, including by one of the peeps who'd just played 'Midnight's Children' on Thursday. Double Daddyness, what a masochist!

When Daddy got back, Lippy and Aunty Lucy had come over with the Arkham Horror board game. Daddy was supposed to play it with them while Mummy chilled out, but somehow he ended up sorting out little old me pretty much all the way until bedtime...I feel a mwahahaaaaaaaaaa!!! is in order here, so.


Anyway, Mummy got ready for bed right quick after I settled down, as my nasty snottiness meant it was only a matter of time before I'd be up and wanting snuggles, and Daddy played the game. Being 'Arkham Horror' it is of course based on the Cthulhu Mythos, which means Daddy loves it! He is a sucker for all that 'cosmic horror' malarkey, apparently...

Saturday morning dawned, freezy and cold. Daddy got me up for first bottle and we went to sleep in the sofa together again afterwards, then he got Mummy up to look after me while he went to call morning muster and run his Goblinz game and get my big sister settled into her first game, a Fairies game with a nice man from Portsmouth named Mick. What a lot of tattoos he has...

After stopping to see my sissy, we went over to see Daddy about 11 o'clock and one or two of the players seemed a bit perturbed when he suddenly had a baby to help him run the game. But I soon got them into line and helped them rescue themselves from disaster with some really neat moves before Mummy came back. Daddy's friend Pat was the only survivor in the end and only got away with it with a perfect swan dive into a moat about 200 metres below a window - it was a real beaut of a move, apparently.

After lunch it was the big one - Garry Grotter and the Society of the Sparrow, written by Mummy and Daddy. One or two people pulled out at the last minute, like Daddy's friend Kiera the Stunty - I don't know why he call her that, I've seen pics of her and she doesn't look that short. But there are always peeps to play LARPs, and Daddy ended up saying it was the best LARP he's ever run, and some of the players agreed as well!

There were people in school uniform aplenty - the Dweebley brothers were in ridiculously bright wigs, the Dutch contingent were out in force (whatever that means) and it even ended with a grand confrontation between Garry Grotter and Lord Fondlebot (played by Knobby the Goblin, resplendent in his twirly black cape) which Garry won in true LARPy fashion to defeat the bad guy and get everyone home safely to Bogbort's, where they wiped out Luciars Milfoy who had trapped them all on a nasty hellplane (even Fondlebot as he was attempting a doublecross) but unfortunately forgotten to run away afterward...

Like I said, these LARP thingies get a tad complicated sometimes.

Saturday evening Daddy had an unusual duty to perform at muster - he had been told about severe weather warnings for Sunday so he explained to everyone in his usual shouty voice that they might want to check weather reports for their route before setting off if they were going back on Sunday. And with crushing irony he then had to go and give the same warning again to the 'Mountain of the Dead' LARP - which is set on a Mountain and was played with all the characters in full winter clothing in the freezing cold Games Rooms. I really think some of them thought he was joking.

Daddy says he set a new record during 'Mountain of the Dead' - shortest guest appearance ever. He was supposed to be an Ithaqua cultist (yes, more of that Cthulhu Mythos stuff, it seems to be very popular with people at Conception) who didn't feel the cold, so he turned out in just a t-shirt on his top half and thought he'd get very cold as he pretended to be a lost Native American who had just stumbled accidentally through a magic portal and into the Russian camp. Only the lady playing the Russian Commander saw he was armed with a tidgy little knife and just walked up and shot him five times before anyone else could interact with him in the slightest. So he lay down playing dead for about two minutes then got up and got his jumper and jacket back on. Total time on his feet roleplaying about 30 seconds, definitely a new record.

After Mountain of the Dead finished Daddy went partying for an hour or so. This nice chappie called Steve always throws an ace party on the Saturday night and apparently this year was no exception.
Steve as the Vampire Prince Michael of Bournemouth, from an old Daddy LARP

However we shall draw a veil over what a certain Goblin (not Daddy) did after getting rather too drunk at said party...when I'm older I don't think I shall drink this alcyboos stuff. It doesn't seem to have a very good effect on you, in fact if what Daddy told Mummy the morning after is anything to go by I'd frankly rather eat one of my own poopy nappies and would probably still feel better afterwards than this person did.

And then Sunday dawned. The Last Day of Conception. By this point everyone is struggling (especially after the saturday night parties) to keep going, people's money is running out, the faces are looking more drawn and more haggard.

And this is the morning when Daddy runs the Kiddiez Treasure Hunt.

Daddy's first headache was that the heaters for the Games Room he had been faithfully promised would be in there from 8am sharp werent there when he arrived at 9.15. So he had to go and jump up and down at the main desk to get things moving so it was still a little chilly when the children arrived at 10.30.

Every year Duncan the Rusty One brings a huge bag of dressing up clothes for the children to dress up in, and other people donate bits and bobs as well such as masks and in one case a blond wig from the Garry Grotter LARP which one of the children wore all day long in the end, even through the closing ceremony! Before the Hunt starts all the children get dressed up in fantasy costumes with the help of my Daddy, my Mummy and their Mummies and Daddies and one or two other helpful people from the Bad Girlz. I even wore my Tigger suit just to get in on the act.

This year Amber (who is getting too big for all this now frankly) wore a cool cape and hood and had a homemade bow and everything! We had someone dressed as a monster called an Umber Hulk with big mandibles and stuff, an ickle Elf princess, and even a Ninja Penguin by special request with a full-sized beak and everything...

And then the dressing up was done, and it was time for the Treasure Hunt. On the Sunday morning Daddy seeds clues on big bits of paper all round the main building, sometimes giving them to people and sometimes just posting them on walls and stuff. Then the children have to figure out what they all mean and go get the next clue until they finish. This means lots of charging around and general mayhem, including tiptoeing through the Bar ('The Place Where Children Mustn't Go) and lots of runs through the main hall where most people go 'awwww' and the hardcore gamers moan at the noise.

When it was his turn to be a Clue, Bob the Diceman made one of the children cry by pretending he was going to eat their baby sister, and gave him a free big dice to say sorry. He gave me my very own set of Goblin Green dice when we arrived as well as a naming present, he is very very generous with his stock. My big sister and he have been friends for years and years, she even bought a set of dice made from Blue Jasper off him once, they are very tiny and beautiful pieces.

I was a Clue as well! It said 'Find The Baby In Disguise', and that was me because I was in my Tigger suit, see? When they all piled back into the Games Rooms where I was waiting I was having Tummy Time and very very nearly crawling, yay me!

Eventually after loads of clues the last one said 'The Goblin In Black Has The Final Clue', and everyone had to chase my Daddy back into the Games Rooms to pick up their prizes. They got loads of sweeties and a cuddly toy each, and the ickle Elf Princess got an extra cuddly because Daddy thought she had the coolest outfit.

Once the Treasure Hunt was over we headed back to the Lodge with Amber and had our lunch. Mummy and Daddy started packing up ready to go home while we ate, but I was so excited by this point I hardly touched it, and so I was a bit on the hyper side when we went back over for the closing ceremony.

Andrew, Duncan, John and Julian all stood up on the stage and gave their speeches about how much money Conception had raised and who it was going to (mostly Round Table and the like, but also £1000 for an equally worthy charity called Help For Heroes) and then Daddy got on the stage to do the Golden Badger Awards for the people whose characters had died in the most amusing ways. After he was done the charity people came up and thanked people for their efforts while Daddy snuggled me next to the stage - unfortunately just as they were finishing up I detonated a Size Five in my nappy and Daddy had to take me out for a bum change, so I missed most of the raffle. Daddy says it was very quick this year as people have complained about how long it was on previous occasions...

Next there was the photy session, which featured me in my special custom-made Conception X T-Shirt - but as it was outside it had to be a really quick photy shoot because lo and behold, it started snowing!!! What a great way to end the proceedings, with the first little wispy bits of snowy goodness.

After the raffle Mummy had gone back to the Lodge to finish the packing, so Amber went into the play area to run around playing Tickle Monster with some of the other ickle kiddiewids, and Daddy and I wandered around the main building having cuddles and saying hi to people. I got lots of cooing and even some cuddles off a few people when I was feeling generous enough to let them snuggle me, but eventually I started getting tired so Daddy took me back over to the Lodge. However, when we got there Mummy had already got the packing done and was just waiting for Grandad to arrive, so Mummy filled our car with stuff and when he did she took me back to the house while Grandad filled his car with the rest and took Daddy back. But as they were leaving it started to snow, really really hard - and I slept through it because when Daddy and Grandad arrived back at the house I was totally gonzoed, ooopsy!

Mummy decided she might as well just go back to the camp to pick Amber up with me asleep in the car (after clearing out enough things to make room for my big sissy of course, couldn't have her perched on the parcel shelf now could we) so off we went, but by the time I woke up the snow had mostly stopped. Bummer, huh?

So I went to bed that night, dissappointed at missing the snow and still a bit icky and snuffly (in fact I still am a bit icky and snuffly, I can't shake this naughty cold!), but in the morning the world was a bit different to the night before...

So there we were, home in the snow after my first ever Conception. And now, please join me in raising a bottle to the idea of many, many more in the future!

The BBC Online Weather Forecast - A Bit Useless, Really

If this is 'Light Rain', then there's something gone very wrong upstairs in the old white n fluffies...

Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Lulu's Conception Report, Part 1

(Filed by our Gaming Correspondent, Daddy)

Well, we did it. Sort of. We didn't stay till the bitter end, because I was ill, Mummy was just getting over being ill and Daddy was just starting on being ill, which is something he traditionally does on the Sunday about three and a half minutes after the big closing ceremony.

Conception started at about 10.30 when we arrived at the holiday camp. The nice peeps behind the desk were ready with our keys, and I officially declared the Convention open with a short speech. In Shriek.

We took our keys off to the place that would be my home for the next four nights - lodge ML6. Andrew, who is Mummy and Daddy's friend who sorts out the accommummydation was very kind and had made sure we had a lodge that was really near the main building so I wouldnt have to go too far in the coldy weather. Just as well too, it was freezing when we got there.

We seemed to have soooo much stuff to unpack. Mummy had loads of stuff in the car (as well as me), and Grandad came to help too with his car which is even bigger. It's all mod cons when we go on holiday, and no mistake. I had my high chair, my wipeable tarp thingy for it to sit on, a whole box of toys, my walker, my door bouncer, my sleepy bouncer, Whoozit, Rabbit, my chew toys, my blankies, my dummies, my vests, my tops, my trousers, my nappies, my creams (got a nasty bit of nappy rash you see) and everything but the kitchen sink really, because happily enough there was already one in the Lodge.

We even had custom made clothes (see post below) including Website Advertising, which Daddy assures me is a very big thing.

The Lodges are quite warm places, and have comfy sofas and comfy beds. I know this because due utter hatred of my travel cot I always spend nights away from home cuddling Mummy in which ever bed she's sleeping at the time, and due to my snotty cold in addition it was a foregone conclusion. Mummy and I were both snotty at this Conception, so Daddy ended up sleeping in the other room after the first night after he was subjected to the Snorting Twins all night long and got no kip at all. He did offer to take me the second night but Mummy reckoned that if he did he'd just get my cold anyway and then we'd all be ill, which is fair comment I suppose.

All in all, it was just like home really, except every time we went out there seemed to be more and more rather large men in black clothes and beards. Which brings us to what we were going there - games and gamers.

Conception isn't the biggest gaming convention in the UK, that's called Gencon. But it is the biggest one in the South of merrie old England, and is all for charity instead of money, which makes the peeps who come along much more generous with their donations.

Daddy's first function in all this is to organise the LARPs. These are the games where all the peeps dress up and actually act out what they are doing 'live' instead of rolling dice and/or moving figures about a tabletop. Daddy has to work out who gets which games and then slot people into them, and sometimes he writes them too. This year his LARP involved lots of ladies in school uniforms. Legitimately.

Daddy said he'd never written so much plot for a LARP before, but it went really really well. And there were lots of cool school uniforms - piccies will no doubt follow. Some of the last minute players even went into Bournemouth in the morning to buy shirts and ties to look more like wizards from Bogbort's - now that's what I call dedication.

Anyway, once we'd got all our things squared away it was time for Mummy and Daddy to argue about who was responsible for leaving behind all the stuff they left behind. Which included a full 75-litre rucksack, which you'd kinda think would be hard for them to miss...but eventually Mummy took me over to the house again to pick everything up.

While we were gone, Daddy had to go over and do his other job for the first time this year. This job is called Calling the Muster. It seems to mainly consist of standing next to Duncan (who is apparently a bit rusty, not sure what that's all about, I can't see all that many flaky bits on him) in front of lots and lots of gamers and yelling a lot whilst waving bits of paper. I have pointed out that this could equally describe being an MP and is presumably not as well paid, but he says even he has some moral standards when it comes to employment.

As Daddy calls the muster the people gradually go off to their games and eventually only the people who couldn't find a game they liked before they got filled up or have just turned up hoping for a random space are left. Then he and Duncan get to work running around, remembering who had a spare space and who didn't and in Daddy's case sometimes literally going into the main hall and shouting for anyone with a spot to wave their hands and shout back what it might be.

Daddy says he's never seen Conception so busy. Obviously number ten, or 'X' as it was known, was the bee's bottom. Or something like that anyway.

When Mummy and I got back from the house I had my first meal in this new place - daddy biscuit, nana, apple and dates to follow, always a good combination. Once I noshed it down Mummy put me in the new 'car buggy' (which is like the Tank in almost no way at all whatsoever, being small, impossible to steer one-handed and light as a feather by comparison) and walked me over to find Daddy in the main building.

The big bit of the holiday camp is the Main Building. It is shaped like a big L, with the main hall at one end and the bowling alley and the main dining bit at the other. And a bar in the middle, naturally. Trust me when I say that if you're going to game for five days, twelve hours a day, you'll need that part. It was fascinating to watch how the complexions grew whiter, the circles around the eyes grew wider and darker, the heads dropped lower and the look of utter determination just to get through till the next game was over got stronger and stronger. And that was just Daddy!

Anyway, we found him over in the main hall, running his Dungeons and Dragons game based on the Order of the Stick, which he thinks is a very very funny Webcomic indeed. Apparently he had it looked over and personally approved by the author himself (who even made some minor corrections to the character's abilities) so it was as real as it can be - and this year helped by, bizarrely enough, being run for a group of people who didn't know the comic but liked the idea of a bunch of incompetent misfits such as he described on the signup sheet so much they signed up for the game anyway...

I went back to the Lodge with Mummy and had my tea while Daddy finished up his game, and had my tea. We seem to have a decent enough cooker and grill thingy because I managed to have my potato stars and some sliced up chicken fillety pieces which were a bit dry but that was OK, because it meant I could munch on them good and proper. It must have helped because I popped yet another tooth the day after!

While I was scoffing Daddy came in and Mummy told him she was already cooking his tea – she was very obliging through the whole Con and cooked nearly all of Daddy’s meals, wasn’t that kind of her? Then we went back across so Mummy could Work On The Desk.

Working On The Desk means that you have to sit down a lot, and talk to all the gamer peeps. It looks maybe a bit boring (well, except for all the people cooing over me but I’m used to that by now, what with being so gorgeous and all) but looks pretty well-paid though. Loads of people gave her money for doing it so maybe she should quit her poopy job at the kitcheny place and do this instead? She could make a mint! But even though I got a little bored occasionally there were some compensations...

Daddy came back over to the Desk a little while later ready to Call Muster again – this time I got to hear him in action.

What a noisy man my Daddy is. After that experience there’s no way he can claim I get it all from Mummy ever again, that’s for sure. He also seemed to be very eager to find a person called ‘Charmingly Shallow’, but he didn’t seem to want to step forward and make himself known…

Once Daddy called the muster, he went into the main hall to run his first Goblin game of the Con. It was called ‘Goblins and Commanders – The Bottom End Of The World’ (weeeell, alright, he didn’t say Bottom but this is theoretically a family-friendly Blog after all, so…) and like so many of the games he writes all the players were playing Goblins. They had to assassinate a Humie general and crawl through the sewers (ewwww!) to reach him.

Needless to say, being Goblins, albeit of the scary sneaky kind, they made a bit of a hash of it. They did a lot of hiding and sneaking but not quite enough moving about, and they kept getting cornered by Humie guards. Luckily for them the Humies couldn’t quite figure out where they were going next and kept going the wrong way, so eventually they managed to get to the general and fulfill their mission. Unfortunately the general’s mysterious wizard adviser managed to wipe them all out after they got the general, though one of them might have escaped if he hadn’t gone all heroic and actually gone back for his Feebleminded comrade-in-sneakiness instead of shimmying out the window. Most un-Goblinlike behaviour, Daddy assures me.

The Feebleminded person was played by someone called Knobby the Goblin, who didn’t look green enough to be a Goblin at all, except curiously enough during the closing ceremony on Sunday afternoon. Daddy waved a finger at him and reminded him of all the things he’d done during and after the party the night before, and called him a very naughty Goblin indeed.

Apparently in former Conception years Daddy used to run a thing called Goblin Day on Fridays, where he and sometimes other people would only run games with Goblin characters in them. I think that must be why he has ended up being known as Goblin Boy to everyone, and even has the name printed on his Conception T-Shirts. Knobby was once mad enough to do all three games one year with the same Goblin character called Knobby, and that’s how he got his name, see?

Knobby the Goblin, not as green as you'd expect

I went back for bedtime about 8, and this was when I started getting all snuffly and snotty, as well as a bit crabby because I wasn’t feeling well and was a bit miffed that we didn’t go back home so I could have my own cot instead of the poopy travel one. So I pretty much ended up sleeping on Mummy for the night whilst Daddy tossed and turned in the bed next to her as I grumped and mimped and moaned. A lot.

In the morning, a somewhat bleary-eyed Daddy got me up for my first bottle and we fell back asleep on the sofa together as we often do at home. I woke up about 8 and he played with me until half past when we went in to get Mummy up so he could go and call the muster.

Well, it wasn’t a pretty sight, I can tell you. There were moans. There were groans. Tears after bedtime just wasn’t in it, dearie dearie me. You’d think he’d invited her to a ‘bring your own red hot poker’ self-torture party the way she carried on. Pretty much like most mornings really, now I come to think of it.

Eventually however we were able to extricate Mummy from her pit by running out of the bedroom with the covers, and off Daddy went to do muster and also something very special – yes, Daddy actually got to play a game instead of running one! He had spotted a game of 3:16 the night before and ran to the signup boards threatening to flatten anyone who got in his way in case the last remaining spot in the game went before he got there with a pen.

However, pleased though he was, there was a small sting in the tail – namely that sneaky Duncan had given that game Table 1 – right by the Desk so when I arrived with Mummy a little while later after breakfast, Daddy was right on hand to play with me whenever Mummy wanted him to…

3:16 is a very noisy game, it seems. I’m sure I heard quite a few of those bad words that Mummy and Daddy tell each other off for using, and had to Shriek quite loudly so I wouldn’t hear them properly. Naughty Daddy. But in 3:16 you play really bum-kicking space marine types, so I suppose it’s not realistic for them to use words like ‘poop’ and ‘bellybutton’ for emphasis. Though some of them did appear to be using the other kind instead of things like punctuation and grammar, now I come to think of it.

In the afternoon we had a new thing – my first game. Well, sort of. Daddy promised that he would try to run at least one game in the Lodge so she could play it, and they agreed that he would run an old classic he wrote with Uncle Dave, called Midnight’s Children. We played with Aunty Lucy, Lippy and Ryan from Yorkshire, and two other peeps who were brave enough to sign up despite the sheet saying that there would be a cute, gorgeous, but also very loud young baby present throughout. It’s a two parter as well, they were very brave to stick with it until nearly midnight. I was a tad mimpy through a lot of it, but in the end Daddy said that it was a fairly good ending after Aunty Lucy’s character got Dominated by the enemy Sorceror and killed off half the other characters, and Ryan’s got dropped off the back of the Sorceror’s Dragon boss and ended up as jam.

I always have jam with my morning toast. I wonder what flavour it was?

(Part 2 of this report will be filed by our exhausted and still rather ill correspondent when he can find time between feeding and changing to write the rest of it…)

Monday, 26 January 2009

Call Me Fourteeth Williams

..two in one day baby! Now we're up to four with the top middle ones coming out as well, and Mummy and Daddy can see the two either side of them are just about ready to pop clear as well. I even christened my new chompers on one of Mummy's fingers when she tried to show Dan my new toothies when we went to Clo-Clo's today.

So to sum up, I'm massively teething just in the runup to Mummy and Daddy's one actual holiday this year, as Conception starts on Wednesday. Daddy says the appropriate phrase rhymes with 'hug her'.

Sunday, 25 January 2009

Biology Question

If this rather fluffy-haired person...

and this very well-dressed, but nonetheless rather sheepy-looking person...

...were to have another baby, would he or she look like a half-baby, half sheep? Well, Daddy says in about eight months we are going to find out! Congratulations guys, and lots of love from me to you :)

PS See you at Conception on Wednesday. And Saturday. Er.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

But Where's The Mum Gone?

Something's going on. I know I've heard Mummy say that Daddy is sometimes into uniforms before, but I don't see how that yucky orange shirt Mummy keeps putting on can be much of a bonus for him. Plus, she's been hanging out at that place with all the tellies and kitcheny stuff wearing it, which would have to be pretty weird behaviour by anyone's standards. Lots of other grownups there seem to wear it too, I think her rugged individuality thing must be wearing off.

She keeps dissappearing off for hours at a time and leaving me with just Daddy on his own. For ages! Sometimes she is still out when Amber comes back from school, and sometimes it's already bedtime when she comes back.

I'm not sure what to make of it all. It's very odd. Especially because, like I said, she is hanging out at the place with all the machines in it wearing her yucky orange shirt, and I know this because Daddy keeps taking me to see her in the Tank. When we go in she comes out from playing hide and seek inside all the machines and gives me lots of cuddles, and then when she is finished Daddy makes her put me back in the Tank because 'if you take her out you're responsible for the screaming when she goes back in'.

So most of the time for most of the days it's just me and Daddy. Changes, changes, changes. I'm quite fascinated by his new beard as well, it is covering his chin and his top lip and I'm really looking forward to it being long enough to grab it and get a really good hold. Amber only just noticed it today when he has been growing it for nearly two weeks, her powers of observation are really stunning...

My day is more or less the same, its just that we walk everywhere. There's no car, Mummy takes it to the kitcheny place with her you see. So I have to get in the Tank (see Screaming, above) and off we go. Daddy always takes me out in the morning unless its raining really super-hard either to Sainsbury's or to Christchurch. This means that he does at least an hour's walking pushing me at breakneck place every single day, so he must be getting the old aerobic fitness levels up again. Just as well seeing as his shoulder keeps being really mean to him every time he does his weights.

I'm getting fit too! I am starting to walk with Mummy and Daddy holding me lots more, and I'm getting really good at sitting up now, I can almost do it by myself. I can when I've got a bit of a boost - it gave Daddy an awful fright when he went into the kitchen to wash his hands after a nappy change and found me sitting right up in my bouncer, grinning and giggling.

All that walking is very tiring. I never fall asleep on the way to wherever we're going, but I almost always fall asleep on the way back. Once I wake up though it's near to one of my favourite bits of the day - lunchtime!

I'm getting very good with the old diet, too. Lunchtimes is fruit all the way, baby! My favourite is banana, though if Daddy is canny and offers me apple first I'll usually nosh that quite happily. I make a lovely mess with the nana, I love the squidgy feel of it as I crush it in my little hands and occasionally manage to make contact with an area somewhere near my mouth.

After the fruit is...dried fruit. Dates and apricots with no stones in them is the thing, the dates have really sorted out the nasty mean constipation that was making me poop coke cans. Not literally of course, only Mummy drinks enough of the stuff to do that.

When lunch is over I usually end up having the Big Afternoon Kip after a bit of a play. Daddy says that one thing he's noticed now Mummy is hanging around in the orange kitcheny place so much is that he doesn't get enough time to play with me, odd though that sounds.

Whatever he says, don't listen to him. It's nothing to do with the insane amount of time I spend on each feed and the cleanup time required afterwards. Honest.

The Big Kip is usually in my bouncer, unlike the post-first feed Kip which usually takes place either in bed cuddling Mummy or on the sofa snuggled up to an equally sleepy Daddy. The Big Kip actually tends to be smaller now though, and Daddy says this is good because first it means he can serve me my tea on time and second because it means I am getting bigger and bigger and should start sleeping more at night and less in the day.

Needless to say I am employing every weapon in my not inconsiderable arsenal to disprove this theory. Generally at around 3am. After all, it's what I do.

Night night and sleep tight everyone.

Thursday, 15 January 2009

Something About That Conception Thingy

As the strange gaming convention thingy is coming soon, someone thought they'd make a video all about it. Weeell, sort of about it. I'm pretty sure that Hitler blokey in it won't actually be there, Daddy says its from an awesome film called Downfall and lots of people have done what this clever person has and added their own subtitles to this bit of footage.

I didn't really get it myself no matter how much Mummy and Daddy laughed, but hopefully the grownups will...

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

An Appeal From Lulu

Daddy, Amber and I had a bit of a Youtube fest tonight after Mummy was called unexpectedly into work for a few hours. Most of it was music stuff - some November's Doom for Amber as she thinks they're ace, a really crystal clear live video from the very scary Skepticism for Daddy, and then a cartoon for me. Weeeell, Amber seemed to be jumping up and down a lot tellin me how funny it was, and was very pleased when Daddy relented and put it on.

Now she has been singing 'the Doom song' for an hour and a half. Please help me.

Thursday, 8 January 2009

Caption Competition

Come on all my dear and loyal readers, give it your best shots...

Singalonga Lulu

"Lucy the red-nosed baby,
Had a very shiny nose,
Cos' Daddy walked her up to Sainsbury's
Wrapped up in her Cosy-Toes."

I Vill Suck Ze Jam Of Ze Living

More Toast-Related mirth...and isn't Daddy getting quick with the the digicam when he spots a photo opportunity?

Tuesday, 6 January 2009

The Funniest Thing So Far This Year...

...is, if Daddy's hysterical laughter and actual tears of mirth are anything to go by, the fact that the only foreign object I have so far ever put in my mouth and then immediately spat out again with a noise of absolute disgust just happened to be one of Mummy's socks.

Needless to say there was one of those moments where Daddy runs away into the kitchen pleading desperately for mercy, followed by the inevitable cry of pain.

Silly Daddy. You think he'd have learned by now.

Conversations With Amber

Daddy helped translate my gurgles for me this morning, because I wanted to ask my big sister a serious question as she was getting ready to leave for school.

"Sissy," I asked via Daddy. "Why do you carry a big peebag to school sometimes?"

"It's a Peeeeee Bag," she replied.

"I know it is. But why carry a bag of wee?"

"It has clothes in it actually Lucy."

"But don't they end up smelling of wee? Doesn't Daddy have enough washing to do already?"

"There's no wee, Lucy. Just clothes."

"Then why isn't it called a Clothesbag?"

"Because it's for Peeeeee."

"Don't grown up girls use toilets for that?"

She just smiled a touch wearily and raised her eyebrown at Daddy in that way she has. Poor Daddy, he was just translating after all.

Number Two

Aha! Fooled you, not a post about poo, but just to tell everyone that I have in fact popped a second toothy, right next to the first one. Yay me!

The Evening Constitutional

The Evening Constitutional around the Back Garden is a fine Daddy/Baby tradition, dating back to the days when my big sister would try to go to sleep before her last feed and/or get all mimpy in general because she was tired. Back in the days of its inception of course the garden was all level with no dirty great trenches and no deadly Poo Pit and there were no bunny rabbits, two facts which Daddy assures me are closely interconnected.

The Back Garden at Night is a magical place, full of wondrous sights and sounds, not the least of which is the Daddy, the Baby and occasionally by special request the Sister too. In the daytime it has bunnies, a Suicide Robin (yes, Katie hasn't gotten him yet, but he keeps coming back for more anyway) and recently a squirrel who has started fencerunning and jumping down to forage under the eyes of a very bemused Scruffles, though it seems to have the common sense not to try it when Katie's the one out of her hutch. It also has really special Moons, Shooting Stars and the odd Santa flyby!

It might seem a bit of an odd time of year to start the Constitutional again, what with it being so freezing cold that today when Amber went to cover the bunnies we realised poor Mr.Scruffles hadn't had much of a drink today because ice had formed over the outlet of his water bottle and had half-filled it too. Amber had to break all the ice up with hot water in order to give him a drink! But Daddy wraps us both up so warm and toasty that we are like little steamy volcanoes so when we walk about the garden we don't end up like the water bottle.

We have come up with some new games to keep me awake in case I get too cosy in Daddy's arms and start getting sleepy all over again (which happens more often than you'd think despite the cold). We play Dragon's Breath and watch our warmth float away in the moonlight, or sometimes Daddy and I grab the low branches on one of the trees at the back of the garden and shake them so they rattle together. This makes me laugh like a very cute drain!

Sometimes Daddy sings to me outside. He sings all kinds of songs (except the noisy ones) in his best low and mellow voice, which always chills me out (no pun intended) no end. I don't know what the neighbours think about it all, maybe it sends them off to happy quiet land as well.

When my sister comes outside (sometimes because she is covering up the bunny hutches against the cold when Daddy and I are already out there) we play games that also make me giggle. Daddy sometimes pretends to be that Attenburr chappie and makes up silly names for her and stalks through the garden pretending he is in a nature programme with her as the subject, or is just generally silly in an effort to make us both laugh. Last night he sang a song that was so silly that it gave her hiccups. Poor Amber.

I love my Evening Constitutionals. Long may the tradition continue.

Note To Self

I must remember that no matter how attractive the idea looks, lifting my head and then thumping it back down very very hard on the changing mat when I don't fancy having a new nappy/vest/top/babygro/trousers/anything on does NOT make me feel better afterwards.

And besides, Daddy says he doesn't want to have to ever use my name and the word 'concussion' in the same sentence, ever.*

*(Well except for now, obviously...)

New Year's Resolutions

1. Find out exactly what a resolution is, and why Daddy has asked me all the things I want to make sure I do in 2009.

2. Learn to sit up all by myself. I'm nearly there, but I can't quite manage it yet, and it will be very handy to be able to do it at 3am so I can make sure Daddy's awake by looking at him at eye level as I start howling at the moon.

3. Avoid mentioning politics, as Daddy gets a bit...agitated when the subject comes up. And while we're on the subject, don't let Daddy out of my sight if that Mr Brown calls one of those election thingies, as according to Mummy she and Amber lost him for a month the last time around.

4. Poo little and less often. Solid foods are a bit of a pain sometimes - literally.

5. Have my first Chinese Takeaway. Apparently they are rather worth waiting for.

6. Be as cute as my sister was at whatever age I'm at. Tall order, but I'll try and manage it.

7. Improvise, adapt, avoid the problem unless it will get worse if you don't meet it head on now. Actually that's one of Daddy's but he says it's good advice for anybody.

8. Go and visit Daddy's favourite nursery where he did his Childcare training at least a couple more times before the end of the year so everyone can try and persuade him to put me in there occasionally.

Wait! Hang on a minute...

9. Witness at least one of these mysterious gaming sessions at Conception for myself, and make more than enough noise to require my instant removal.

10. Don't scream quite as much when Daddy is doing the post-feed clean up.

11. Let Daddy go to the toilet without using my best Shriek to ensure I am present.

12. Don't giggle at inappropriate moments when not managing to fulfill number 11.

There are lots more fizzing madly around my little baby brain, but for now they will have to wait as Daddy and I need to go into town and do some shopping.

Bye for now!

Monday, 29 December 2008

My First Christmas Day

I did that Christmas thing for the first time a few days ago. It seemed to consist of rellies, shiny bright wrapping paper and lots of food. I think I liked the paper best - no offence to the rellies but they did move to Scotland after all and apparently that's bad. Certainly Daddy seems to get a little...cutting, when he refers to 'the whinging, leeching parasites', which he insists is the collective noun for a group of Scottish people.

(I am now sat on daddy's shoulders with my legs wrapped around his head, with my hands ripping at his hair. This is Mummy's way of ensuring there are typos unless Daddy stops typing and gets me undressed so she can run my bathwater.)

It started off like any other day - Daddy got me up for my first bottle, I noshed it, I fell asleep, he took me back to bed. But when we woke up my sissy got to come onto the bed and open a shiny present and a card with lots of special Gift Certificates in. That was new!

The Gift Certificates weren't like normal ones for buying stuff at Arghs and Weeweestones. They entitled Amber to special things like 'Kick Daddy off the computer for an hour' and 'Daddy cleans the rabbits out today'. She is biding her time with them though, I reckon she'll leave the bunny ones until it's raining so hard you can barely even look outside without wanting to dry off.

After I had my Tenses (which are like elevenses but a bit earlier, and a lot messier) and had the traditional screamy cleanup session after smearing myself thoroughly with nana as usual we went over to Granny and Grandad's. Once we got there we sat down in the living room and we really got down to present unwrapping in a very serious way.

I got books. I got toys. I got toys I can chew on, including a strange crabby thing with lots of little nobbly bits and a bit you can push to squeak. That was my favourite of all. It has hardly left my side, or my mouth for that matter. I have really enjoyed dribbling all over it.

The best bit was of course the wrapping paper. I lost count of how many times I gobbed my dummy out and then had it popped back in again before I could nosh some of it down - anything that pretty and shiny just has to taste good, right? I swear I only left a nanosecond between the dummy coming out and paper going in, but Mummy and Daddy were always there to make sure it didn't happen. They are annoyingly efficient sometimes, it really hacks me off!

I had a whole new load of things to chew on through the day, but the best teeth-related part of it was the lunch. It was my very own portion of Granny's special roasty dinner - chicken, sausage, veggies, taters and special Baby Gravy. Sure it took me twice as long as everyone else to plough through it but at least I wasn't groaning under the strain of not throwing up like everyone else seemed to be. I paced myself, see?

Granny doesn't half do a massive spread. Daddy said he'd go and pick the bones of the chicken after we were done so it didn't go to waste, but this most definitely didn't happen, in fact it looked more like we'd be picking his bones up off a stretcher by the time he'd noshed a couple of mince pies after the main course. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.

After such a huge nosh I had to have a good kip, but I was determined to stick around for more presents so Daddy had to take me into the little bedroom where Amber stays when she is at Granny's away from everyone else, and rock me off to sleep. I stayed down on him for ages, but oddly when I woke up I was on Mummy. I think she gets a little jealous when I am asleep on Daddy sometimes, but stealing me off him when I'm asleep is a bit much.

I was feeling so well disposed after all this noshing and napping that I even let Grandad cuddle me for, oooh, must have been a whole two minutes. Scary, huh? I definitely must have been filled up with that Christmas spirit that's in all those films Mummy keeps insisting we watch lately on the telly. As well as the sausage.

As time drew close for teatime though we decided to go home to give me my tea. This decision was slightly influenced by Mummy and Daddy's realisation that they had managed to leave the bag with my bottles in at home...so off we went back to our little house for tea.

Inevitably however one of Amber's special christmas pressies hadnt made it to Granny's, and it turned out that Mummy and Daddy had hidden it at the bottom end of my cot so well that they had forgotten where they had actually put it. About par for the course really, that.

When we did eventually open the present, it was the DVD of a film called the Dark Knight, and it had a very funny looking man in a black suit with small bunny ears on who seemed to be very upset all the time. The other person in it was a very strange man with makeup on, who talked in a funny voice in the bits I could see. Daddy says soon I will start 'getting' films, and won't be able to watch as much telly as I do now.

(Today a funny thing happened. My sister was being a bit of a sulkydraws and Daddy went up to her and licked his lips in a funny way, then said "Why so serious?" in exactly the same voice as the man with the makeup on from the film! Amber raised her eyebrows at him, and they went even higher when he started crowing about how well he had done the impression. I got the distinct impression from her that she wanted to find the makeup stick the man in the film used and insert it where the sun doesn't shine, even from my radiant Daddy.)

So that was my first Christmas. I got to see Granny and Grandad, and even the people who gave us their old high chair which I now sit in for dinnertime popped in from over the road to pay homage to the awesome wondrousness that is me, so Mummy and Daddy could say thank you in person for them giving it to us. A proper old cooing fest, all things considered.

I think I am still full of Christmas spirit, you know. I gave Mummy the present of a huge weewee all over her this morning when she changed me as Daddy got my morning bottle ready downstairs, so I know my generosity still hasn't diminished just yet...

Night night and sleep tight everyone.

Stealing The Food Right Out Of My Mouth

The carrot and coriander Stix were 'too thin', she said at lunch. "They keep snapping," she told Daddy.

"She's had loads of food already," she said at teatime. "So I'll just finish what she can't manage," she told Daddy.

Daddy observed rather drily that it was her who had decided how big my portion of the roasty dinner was going to be, and how convenient it was that there was plenty leftover for Mummy to top up with.

Daddy says it must be revenge because I ate her watch two days ago. Weeeell, he says I must have eaten it, because Mummy let me play with it and then it was...gone. I also haven't pooped since yesterday morning, which he says is probably because I can't pass one or two of the trickier parts of the mechanism just yet.

Mummy thumped him for being so gross, so he then sung the 'I Ate Mummy's Watch' song. A lot. So she threatened him with a whisk, and he ran back into the front room with me.

I'm not saying what I really did with the watch, hehehe. Maybe I will let her have it back if she makes nice and stops nicking my nosh.

Be warned, babies of the world. My Mummy will steal it right out your mouth.

Tuesday, 23 December 2008

Mummy's Ebay Obsession Goes A Bit Too Far

My Super-duper Sister

My sister is cool. It's official. She is settling into all the huge amount of travelling she has to do to and from her new school really well, Mummy and Daddy say they love how grown up she is about getting all those buses. Some days she is up before I am!

Mummy and Daddy took me to her Parents Evening at the school a couple of weeks ago. We saw three of her teachers - her History teacher, her English teacher and her Science teacher. The Science Teacher is the one who has put her onto the idea of doing the Astronomy GCSE after finding out how much heavy stuff like Planetary Formation she did when Daddy used to homeschool her. She also said that she should look forward to next term because there will be lots of practical experiments which is one of the things she likes best.

We found out just what brainboxes the children who got into her school are though - her SATS mark for Science was the best in her whole Year when she left and that only placed her joint fourth in her class to start the Year off with - and there are five classes!

Daddy says this means she will have to Really Work For It to be top of the class now. He says that a lot, now I come to think of it. I think she must get it by now, surely? She is clever enough to have got into the school after all...

Amber's History teacher thinks she is ace too. She says she gets top marks in the work that's supposed to be most difficult for children of her age, which is the kind that involves Research and Evaluation. And next term she is going to be looking at how History gets written, and how people can sometimes rewrite it to suit their own purposes...kind of like Daddy wants to keep this Blog in archive so when I tell my children what a well-behaved little girl who slept through the night I was he can snigger and tell them what a big fat liar I am.

The other day, Amber came home really pleased because she got two merits from her History teacher, for two things written about what Daddy calls '1066 and all that'. The first one was written from the point of view of Harold Godwinson and was so funny that her teacher wrote that it made her cry laughing in her History book, how cool is that?

"Dear Diary,

William is on my black list. Big time! I know I sort of, well, did break my promise, but he doesn't have to invade to show he is upset. I mean, why can't he send a nice little letter explaining how he feels about the situation? He needs serious anger management classes. I am so going to kick his bu - his behind."

Daddy thought that the idea that William of Normandy needs anger management is very funny. But just to show that she can write deadly serious things too, my sissy also did a thing about the Battle of Hastings which Daddy says is really gritty and atmospheric.

"We are losing. Normans litter the ground and the deadly Saxons continue the slaughter. Suddenly, we Normans start retreating and the Saxons, blood crazy, run after them. I limp away, my leg wound starting to open wider and bleed.

Then our archers shoot a volley of arrows, unexpectedly, and many Saxons fall down dead. We suddenly start to move forward, fighting again. I feel weaker than ever, my leg covered in my own blood..."

Oooooooo. Scary, huh? And a bit yucky too, now I come to think of it.

I will translate Amber's military memoirs into Yell, Shriek and Red-Faced Strain when I am older and Daddy actually lets me on the puter without handcuffs, on account of me having issues with messing up the laptop once upon a time (I managed to start Defragmenting it which was quite amusing because Mummy doesn't actually know how to do it herself).

But seriously, how cool is my sister? Her writing rocks the world. When I grow up I will be a cool writer just like her, though I will write about milk and nappies and how cute Piglet is more often than she does.

She is my super-duper sister, and we all think she is the coolest big sister ever.

Monday, 22 December 2008

Party Party Party

Tis the season to be jolly, and get presents from Auntie Holly, and other things ending in olly. Plus Mummy's birthday was on Sunday, so we had a party on Friday night to celebrate. Amber went to Granny's and lots of peeps came over to coo at me. Amongst others, Uncle Julian (he's one of my non-religious Godfather types) and Aunty Sue came over, and I even let her hold me for a little while without screaming. Wasn't I good?

Julian and Sue on my Naming Day

But the crown for the evening's 'holding the baby without the baby raising merry hell' award had to go to Ed for sheer persistence. Even when I kept mimping and looking at Daddy all imploringly as if to say 'how can you possibly leave me with this strange American for another second?' he just kept on playing with me and cuddling me. And in the end he got to snuggle me for a whole twenty minutes (!). Mummy and Daddy were amazed, not to mention mightily impressed.

Ed and I. I am reading him a story with lots of teething in it.

At first when it was Julian and Sue I was quite happy. But then for some reason lots of peeps arrived all at once, and everyone seemed to crowd into the kitchen where Daddy was holding me at the same time. I started feeling it was all a bit oppressive, but luckily Daddy saw it coming and took me out of there before I fully let fly. Apart from that I actually quite liked having lots of people there, they cooed and cooed and cooed and gave me lots and lots of attention. And if they weren't paying enough attention I just gave out a quick yell and that got them back where they should be, i.e. worshipping at my little feet.

Nutty Nate was there. He's the one Daddy and Julian started moshing with during Mummy and Daddy's wedding reception, suits and all. His luverly lady Kate was there too. She has uber-big hair, it is totally awesome and seems to get bigger every time we see her.

Nate and Kate at Mummy and Daddy's Wedding

Big Dave and his girlfriend Alex came too (Daddy doesn't seem to have any photy's of them, sorry) - I had to stay away from Alex though because she is a scary ill person. Daddy says she was a Plague Bearer and she didn't seem to argue with that one. She did make sure it was still OK to come over though which was very kind of her to do.

Big Dave is a super-clever person who knows loads and loads about the stars. My big sister wants to do GCSE Astronomy and he will says he will help her out loads and loads because he is only one more degree away from being a full Astronomer, which I think means he can look at a star and tell you what its called, how far away it is, and probably what it had for breakfast as well.

Also Rob (who Daddy keeps referring to as Jack Silver, after the bumbling Vampire he played in the game Daddy first met him in) was there. He is High Priest of the Temple of Prog, which sounds very grand indeed to me even though I don't know exactly what it's all about. But that's OK, because Daddy says no two people have ever managed to agree on exactly what being Prog means anyway.

Unfortunately for Mummy, because of people being ill, people related to people being ill, and people having to work late, none of what Daddy calls Mummy's 'girlie mates' made it over, so nearly everyone who was there was a gaming person. And those gamer peeps, my they do like to talk shop, so to speak. It's like another language really, though I'm one to talk I suppose what with my fluency in Yell, Shriek and Red-Faced Strain.

All in all despite the occasional moment when people didn't pay enough attention to me, and a bit too much gaming natter for the non-gamers present, it was a really great night. I even went to sleep near the end after exhausting myself with all this social stuff, despite a few people still being downstairs making noise.

I hope we do it all again for Mummy's 25th next year. I don't get to properly entertain nearly often enough.

Growing Up

So when I get big will this ickle baby moey...

Turn into this one?

I'm just asking.

Food Glorious Food

I don't like Goop. I really don't. It seemed to take Mummy and Daddy ages to figure this out, and even when they did it took Daddy a week of constantly badgering Mummy to make her give up on the enormous quantity of blended carrot she'd stored in the freezer for my mealtimes. But give up she did, and now I get lots of proper solid goodies, and Mummy says that when we got to Granny's on Christmas Day I will get my own little Christmas Dinner with non-salty Baby Gravy and everything! Only three days to go, I can't wait.

I have a super-duper big high chair, I feel so grown up when I sit in it. Daddy lays down the blue tarp thingy on the floor and then lifts the chair onto it, then he puts on my one of the special bibs with the pouch to catch dropped food in, sits next to me in his puter chair and passes me my nosh. And then picks it up when I drop it, unless my aim is good enough to get it all the way off the tarp of course.

My first feed of the day is still a nice carton of Number 3 milk, given by a somewhat bleary-eyed Daddy. I quite often go back off to sleep soon afterwards, or even while I am being burped, and sometimes Daddy takes me back to bed where I have Mummy snuggles and he can catch up for an hour too.

For my elevenses (or tenses depending on when I have my first feed) I have nana. Daddy cuts it into three, then slices the bits down the middle from top to bottom so I can grip them. For a given value of 'grip', obviously. Needless to say, this isn't the cleanest exercise in the world, and when I am finished I am usually a bit covered in sticky nananess where I have gummed it down to a sticky paste then swallowed, well, some of it anyway. Still, I am yumming it up which is the main thing.

After I have consumed my nana, I get half a Farley's Rusk to nosh. Daddy loved Rusks when he was a kiddywid and it's obviously been passed on via the old genepool because I nail them really well and manage most of it with only one or two hurls to the floor in the process. Daddy says having the tarp (the main part of which was used to make the cold-weather covers on the bunny hutches) and the ever-helpful Milton sprayto clean it off afterwards saves us a fortune in food...while I munch my rusk Daddy quickly makes my bottle up while I'm not looking (sneaky) and then he gets me all changed and cleans me up while it cools down.

I don't like the Being Cleaned Up part of this process. I just about tolerate it as long as the water on the flannel is nice and warm, but I still really hate it when Daddy puts it in between my fingers to get all the nanery (which Mummy says is a real word no matter what Daddy says) gunk out.

For my lunch I have my crunchy carrot Stix - they are really yummy and I can hold them better than the nana as they start off dry until I have munched on them for a while. Sometimes I go through five or six of these if I'm really hungry.

For tea I sometimes have apple, but Daddy doesn't like giving me that just yet as I try to swallow pieces that are a bit too big and I choked once, so he normally cooks me up some fresh broccoli instead. I hold the stalks and then kind of suck the florets off the top. Greeny goodness!

Of course, there is one thing about this newfound love of solid foods. The nappies.

Ah well. Can't have everything...

Goth Baby

Yep, I now have a proper all-black Goth Baby outfit. Now as I'm sure you'll all agree I look great in black, all I have to do is learn the lyrics to 'Bela Lugosi's Dead' and how to look all depressed and alienated when I'm out at the Under 1's Group and Daddy says it'll be official - I can drink the milk of the living and everything. Go me!

I Popped One!

And no, I meant a tooth, not one of the other things that seem to come out of my bottom at inconvenient times. Yes, as of three days ago Daddy noticed that the traditional gumming ritual felt a bit different, and sure enough there is a little white fang to be seen. It's only tidgy do far, but it is literally pushing out further every day. However this does mean that the Bonjela is being deployed more frequently than usual, and dribble levels are reaching flash flood proportions.

Mummy says I should probably wear a bib all day for the moment. Daddy says what the hell, just tie a small bucket around my neck and that way I've always got something to drink.

Now there's a real actual toothy in there Daddy has to be very careful that I don't actually bite down with the right tool for the job instead of just licking at the Bonjela-covered finger a lot. But I got him once already, hehehehe. You wait, Mummy and Daddy are so used to me grabbing the nearest available limb and slobbering all over it that they will keep forgetting that we've moved into new territory for a while. And I can giggle at way they keep crying 'owwwwwwww' every time I get them.

Ah, the parents of the baby, what sweet music they make...

Sitting Up Straight

I am now spending more time on the floor than before, because I am the big sitting up straight baby. Mummy sits me down amongst a nice pile of cushions with my toys, and I play with them until I get bored, sometimes not falling down for an entire minute or two. Granted, I can't actually sit myself up yet (though I am trying very hard and making the cutest noises in Red-Faced Strain) but I can stay up as long as I want once I'm there. It rocks.

I am also standing up rather well in my new Walker. Unfortunately this means that yes, I managed to kill off the old one. I just bounced and bounced in it too much and the seat started to come away from the frame. It was rather old anyway as it used to belong to my big sister and it had been up in the loft for ages, Mummy said, and if you bounce up and down on an old thing like that it is liable to break eventually.

I hope that doesn't mean that Daddy will break if I bounce up and down on him. He's getting on a bit too, you know.

My big sister's walker, 1997-2008.

Bad Daddy

Daddy is sorry.

Daddy is very sorry.

Daddy is very, very sorry.

Very sorry indeed that he hasn't updated the Lulu Blog for such a long time. In his defence, he has been busy listening to Mummy moan that he hasn't updated the Lulu Blog for such a long time.

He has also been busy writing this. He says he has never, ever written so much plot for a LARP. I think he's a bit tired, mentally speaking. And Mummy says he must be mental to write so much plot, though she helped quite a bit. He says some of her plot ideas were nearly as twisted as his, which I think is praise indeed.

Anyway, instead of writing one giant update, he is going to do lots of little ones to share the latest developments in my awesome life with you all while Mummy and Amber sing the Speckled Frogs song and the Bubble song to me. Granted this isn't exactly going to help his concentration, but I'm sure he'll manage...