It’s all change for the microbe this week. Today was his last day at his beloved Monday/Tuesday nursery, which is really quite sad. I’m so going to miss those daily diary updates. He’s finally transitioned to full time in the ‘big boy’ section of his other nursery, so here’s hoping he bonds with his new chief carer and gets to do some more exciting things.
I had a scary email today about another outbreak of nursery chicken pox – just days before we’re due to go on holiday! What are you supposed to do if your microbe comes down with chicken pox on the day you’re meant to fly? Do they ban you from the plane? I will seriously WEEP if that happens. Please cross every finger you have.
When we get back from hols I’m planning to reshuffle James’s bedroom a bit to put in a big boy bed. (When I say ‘big boy bed’ what I really mean is a teeeny tiny little baby bear’s bed, suitable for ages 2-6. But bigger than his cot, which only goes up to age 2). I am hoping that this future bed will be so exciting to the boylet that he will skip there with gay abandon every night and remain in a magical deep sleep until 7am. Well, I can hope…
In language news, the boy has been working hard to emulate his father by levelling up his
reasoning arguing capacity. Where we used to just get a finger-waggy “No, mummy!” and “No, daddy” in reaction to every single statement, nowadays we’re treated to stubborn ad lengthy debates involving the words “but” and “because”…
“Mummy, I’m hungry!”
“Great! What would you like for lunch?”
“No, you can’t have chocolate for lunch. Would you like a sandwich?”
“No, not a sandwich.”
“How about a cheese toastie …or some humous?”
“No, not a toastie and not houmous.”
“Because I am asking you for chocolate, mummy”.
“James, eat your spaghetti”
“But I want to watch Max and Ruby”
“You can watch Max and Ruby if you eat your spaghetti”
“But I want to watch Max and Ruby in the living room”
“Eat your spaghetti, then I will put Max and Ruby on. That’s the deal”.
“No mummy, that’s not the deal”
Arguing is not the only trait that he has inherited from daddy. He is also strangely prissy about getting anything on his fingers, even when he’s in the middle of eating. He’ll sit in his highchair and squeal for a tissue if he gets the merest smidgeon of humous on the back of his knuckle. He most certainly does not get that from me (a woman seldom happier than when my hands are covered in paint, soil or some other gunk).
I am probably most to blame for his love of all things animal. (My family’s chief taunt when I was a small child was that I would die for a diseased slug, which was only a slight exaggeration). This morning the boy announced “I love Harriet!” while administering a belly-flop cuddle to the cat. Docile and tolerant as she is, I suspect she does not thoroughly reciprocate his feelings.
In other news, last weekend we learned that 4+2+1=chaos. This was the exciting visit from Helena (aged 4) and Benjamin (aged 1). Generally James (aged 2) gets very excited when they come to visit. He tends to follow Helena around like a puppy and even allowed her to take charge of his iPad for most of the time. Benjamin, on the other hand, has become an object of minor jealousy and James had to be told often to share his toys and not get jealous or take things away from Ben. I suppose it’s a learning curve that he simply has to go through.
At one point we heard that Benjamin has to be watched as he’s going through a phase of putting things in the toilet. Not one to be outdone, James promptly sneaked down the corridor and put his own shoes in the toilet. The beast.
But we had a very nice weekend and the three of them had a ball on a boat trip down the Thames. I do think that the microbe has a lot more fun when there are other children around. The flat looked like a scene of Toymageddon. Later on we left the three of them in charge of a giant bowl of popcorn and all I can say is that it’s amazing what they achieved in a small space of time. I expect I will still be finding it in odd places around christmas time.
Now I shall say farewell and finish up with a small selection of pics from some sunny days at fruit farms, country shows, boat trips and so on.
This is the blissful moment right before he tipped out all of the berries that I’d picked…
This is a moment in the courgette field right before he sat down in a 6-inch deep mud pile and got thoroughly caked…
Comedy hat wearing (not his, obviously)…
A moment of affection for the Ben-shaped microbe…
Two-headed iPad monster (they could have stayed like that for hours)