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.

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.

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...

Photy Goodness

"I've got the whole world, in my mouth, I've got the whole wide world, in my mouth..."

"Aaaarrrrrrrrr me hearties! I'm Toastbeard the Pirate, and ye'd better just hand over any valuables before I get ye with me spoon! Milk, nappies, teethin' rings, I'll be takin' it all!"

Pugilism And The Single Baby

This week I have been mostly learning how to sit up on my own for the first time, and also splitting Mummy's lip open and breaking her nose. It's a funny shape now but I'm sure it will grow back. It's not as if it hasn't been broken about nine times already.

Mike Tyson, eat your heart out. Eighteen years, and your milk is mine.