5 mins till baby R’s feed and I’ve been reflecting on some of the goings on in this household these past 24 hours. As usual, most of it revolves round our second daughter.
Example. We’re potty training and whilst wees in the correct place are greeted with wild cheering and praise, poos are rewarded with a sweet treat. So, after today’s enormous Cumberland sausage:
“L, would you like a biscuit?”
“Yeah a yam”*
“Which one would you like?”
“I wanna big, big, big, big, big, big, big (Mummy note: I’m spotting a trend here), big, big, big, massive one.” Selects a wafer-thin crunchy slip of a biscuit. She’s such a tease.
*Note: ‘yes I am’ is her stock reply to anything. She says it to buy her thinking time, or to assert her authority or ownership of anything and everything.
“L, do you need a wee?”
“No thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
“No! Sang! Koo!!!!!”
P is going through a phase of wanting to wear nail varnish because some of the girls in her nursery class do. Me and The Boss are of one mind on this: over our combined dead bodies. So P, being an opportunistic minx, has used her new white board pens to ‘accidentally’ slip and colour all 10 of her nails in red. I worked my ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ chat and facial expression to the max. It obviously had an effect: yesterday she’d scribbled over one palm only (it had an anarchy symbol, capital A in a circle. Coincidence? Or design…?) And this morning she sheepishly asked for help to rub off black pen scribblings over both hands and arms. After much scrubbing with wipes, she admitted she might need some help as “I did a little bit on my knee, too”. Turned out the only part of her body she’d not scribbled on were those bits covered by vest and pants. Everything else was adorned. The ensuing squeals from the bathroom as we abandoned the wet-wipes and went for the bath, bubbles and rough flannel were shattering.
Talking of ‘shatter’, we’re pretty tired today. Youngest 2 minxes had us up most of the night. Mini Minx is almost crawling backwards and almost has a second tooth ruptured. (Midi Minx just prefers squashy mummy cuddles in the night compared to cold plastic dolly hugs). Anyway, as me and The Boss tried to doze with the baby between us, I was watching her out of a half-closed eye. By crikey we’re going to have trouble with this one! As her growls and escalating volume of shrieks had no effect, she wriggled over till she could reach her Daddy’s face. Not liking his closed eyes, she reached under his glasses and tried to push his eyelids up. Minxdom beyond her tender months indeed.