Wednesday, 28 January 2009
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'.
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.
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.
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...
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.
Now she has been singing 'the Doom song' for an hour and a half. Please help me.
Thursday, 8 January 2009
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.
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.
"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.
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...)
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!
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.
"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
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.
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.
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