Just when you thought things were over… Microbes have an annoying habit of regressing.
After a very long run of staying in his own bed all night, the boybot seems to have reverted to stealthy night-time visits. I don’t always hear him arrive but I frequently wake to find him snuggled up next to me in bed.
We’ve had plenty of “little chats” about it but I have a feeling that he’s sleepwalking and not actually in control. Last weekend he crept into Uncle Alistair’s bed in the small hours and didn’t respond at all when spoken to – he just fell instantly back to sleep and they carried him back to his own bed and he stayed there for the rest of the night.
Last month he also had a spate of regressive “accidents” at nursery, after months on end without mishap. Every incident seemed to involve him standing next to the loo with his trousers half-down, having simply left it too late to run to the bathroom. One week was particularly bad and he had THREE accidents, meaning that he ran out of spare clothing and ended up going commando in another man’s trousers for the rest of the day. Dear me.
G mentioned it to his BFF’s mum and she revealed that he was suffering from exactly the same regression – hence there is some suspicion that the two of them might have been in cahoots over it. As it stands, we’ve had some little chats with him about remembering to go as soon as he needs a wee and (so far) no more accidents.
On the topic of nursery cahoots, the Microbe and his two closest boy-pals could put the Artful Dodger to shame when it comes to wilful tea leafing. Ever since he first became aware of pockets it has been a daily battle to prevent the boy from smuggling contraband in and out of nursery. Given half a chance, every pocket would contain a tiny plastic animal that he absolutely “needs” to have with him at nursery. The fact that these toys are taking a one-way ticket to the VOID and will never find their way home again doesn’t seem to deter him.
Equally, we’re having a job and half stopping him from smuggling pocket-sized tat back home with him. The other evening I noticed a bulging pocket and made him turn it out – at which point he sheepishly revealed not one but FOUR items that didn’t belong. In true klepto-style, they weren’t even worthwhile toys, but random crap, including a wooden sausage, a lego man, a battered toy car and a plastic part from a construction set
His defence for these misdemeanours is usually along the lines of “But [buddy 1] took a lion home yesterday” and “[Buddy 2] always takes home the cars!”
Buddy 1 and Buddy 2 are the subject of daily anecdotes these days, often hilarious in nature. Unfortunately, now that they’re all old enough to earwig and repeat everything you say back to their parents, it has become a daily exercise in lip-biting not to mutter “Well [buddy 1] is a brat” and “Don’t listen to [buddy 2] – he’s clearly an idiot“.
In seasonal news, G and I don’t celebrate VD but the Microbe has nevertheless made us a card and a salt dough loveheart, which is very sweet. The card is addressed to “Mummy, Daddy and my Baby Sister” (teacher informs us that he insisted on adding on his sister). Bless.
He still cuddles my tummy a lot and refers to Thing 2 as “my baby“. I fear he’s going to be a tad disappointed when a fully-formed, toddler-sized playmate fails to pop out.
We have a lot of conversations like this…
“Mummy, my baby sister will love animals, won’t she?”
“Well we don’t know yet, darling, we’ll have to wait and see. She might be more interested in other things”
“But mummy, she WILL love animals because I will teach her”
“Yes! I will teach her all of the animal names and their noises.”
“Do you know that all of your first words were animal names and noises? Are you going to teach her those?”
“Yes! And she can cuddle my animals and I can read her my stories”
“I think she will love that”
“Mummy, is my baby sister going to sleep in my bedroom?”
“Not when she’s very little”
“She’ll have to sleep in mummy’s room at first because tiny babies wake up all through the night and need to be fed. But when she’s a bigger girl she can move into your room”
As for my ever burgeoning girth, I must say that I don’t remember ever feeling quite so pregnant when the boy was in there. I certainly didn’t look like a house at 6 months and I don’t remember having such shortage of breath. My usual commuting style of zipping in and out of crowds is long gone – I’m well and truly in the slow lane now and will happily let people overtake me and watch trains go, rather than cramming myself on. It’s strangely liberating, not being in a hurry.
Lastly, I shall just mention that I have FINALLY replaced my phone. I realise this is news of extreme dullness but, having spent the last 18 months getting by with a screen that looked like crazy paving and was held together with tape, it feels amazing to have a phone that I can actually see – and use for the interwebz and for taking pictures. (Would anyone like to place a bet on how long it lasts before it gets “Microbed” back into crazy paving?)