Three – it’s the magic number

Hmmm. I have to say that this bed-training business is NOT rocking my world. I’m barely alive this week and I’m pretty sure the microbe hasn’t learned a single behavioural change.

Whenever he gets a sticker for sleeping through the night, it seems to me that he’s simply being rewarded for being too knackered & zonked-out to wake up and come a-bothering. And WHY is he so knackered, you may ask? Well half the time it’s because he spent a good portion of the night before sleep-dodging and hovering at my door, badgering to come in.

Alas, at 2am, no sticker in the universe outshines the allure of cuddles in mummy’s bed. The other night I had to resort to threats of beloved Warthog-removal instead, which sent him pattering back down the corridor in dread (and made me feel a little bit bad). The next morning he told me that that was “not very kind, Mummy!”

For illustrative purposes… beloved warthog can be seen in the butter-wouldn’t-melt pic below (clutched lovingly in his micro-grasp).

IMG_0434

It seems that all of my microbe-wielding friends are reporting similar bedtime issues – especially those with boys, who seem to want their mummies in the small hours. (Well – I suppose something has to keep Supernanny in a job.)

Bah to it all. I shall report back in another week or two… and then after that, I shall probably start to rave on about potty training. (“Hooray!” I hear you cry!)

IMG_0420I had the boy shorn again at the weekend, this time a lot shorter than before so it should keep him going for a while.

Here’s a pic of his bruised little face >>>
The barber was a bit of a perfectionist and snipped away at invisible hairs for ages after it looked ‘done’ to me. (Then when he cut my own hair he got the straighteners out – I’ve never had that done before in a barber shop!)

In dietary news, G and I have each come to the same decision independently, that we’re going to relax our non-meat rules when we’re at other people’s houses and (in James’s case) when he’s at nursery.

The poor microbe cried at nursery the other day because he wanted sausage rolls but was only allowed to have quorn chicken. In truth I have no idea which of those food products contains more mystery content than the other – but I’ve told nursery that from now he can have sausage rolls if he wants them.

At home we’ll continue to stick to fish, seafood & vegetarian food, but when we’re elsewhere we’ll just go with the flow on whatever people want to serve – land-flesh or otherwise. (Well – ok… we might draw the line at foie gras – but you get the picture).

Today was “Red Day” at nursery, which meant that the Microbe had to be dressed in red from head to toe. I decided I might as well make use of last year’s World Book Day props, so he wore his bright red Fox in Socks tail and ears too. (When I picked him up he still had them on and the staff said that he’d refused to be parted with them all day.)

Ooh – I have just remembered a good thing! I tried out the “I’m going to count to three” thing on him this morning when he was misbehaving and I only got as far as 2 before he stopped immediately! (In your debt, Ms KW, if you happen to read this!)

My last anecdote of the day is to pass on a little Beavis and Butthead moment from G, who said that he had unfortunate snigger-fest the other week when he was walking through the entrance to Nursery and James announced at top volume: “Daddy, I LOVE beavers!” Bless.

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About Susan Flockhart

Bonsai lady-geek and blogger. I can hardly recall what I used to blog about pre-microbes, but these days I generally ramble about motherhood, nonsense and whatever's going on the world of tiny people
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