We were all sat at dinner last night, our usual chimps tea-party of a meal, food flying everywhere, cacophony and dodging spills. I detected an aroma most un-dinner-like. “Who’s done a poo?” I demanded, in jest, glaring at the baby. Mini Minx raised her little hand and impishly said, “Meeeeeeee!” Me and The Boss literally fell about laughing. I didn’t know she even understood what ‘me’ meant, never mind knew how to say it, or even indicate. Absolute genius!
Today, on a roll, I taught her how to say “Mmmmmm-pies!” but it comes out as a very cute un-Homer Simpson lisp of “mmMMMMmmmMMmm-pieth”. What a little love!
Midi Minx has been applying lipsalve like it’s gloss paint. We have suddenly run out of Pritt Stick. The 2 may well be unrelated, but I wouldn’t count on it.
Last night Midi and Maxi were playing at dress-up after bed time. “Mary!” yelled Midi. “Mary!!!” she yelled. “Get your baby up your tummy right now!” Then rolling her eyes at me, “I think Mary needs a smaller baby, actually”. Yep, they were doing their very own, unique nativity play and 3 year old Midi was the artistic director.
I had a seriously lovely Christmas treat today (Christmas Eve). Rather than fight the total gridlock that is Elgin on the day before Christmas (all 4 cars of it), I took Maxi out on a wee exped into town by bus. We browsed some sales, got everything on our list and more besides, then spent a happy half hour in the *empty* wool shop. Linda knows me well, so knows not to pressurise me even in the tiniest way: leave me to squash and squeeze and stroke and dither and ooh and aah for long enough and I’ll buy as big an armful as I can carry; make any suggestions at all and I get flustered, realise I’m a wool addict after all, and walk, empty-handed. My big 5 year old was a very willing learner in the art of classing wools into varying degrees of the classification “Ooooo Pretty!” So we bought sock wool, 1200g of Aran and some posh bamboo/pearl. I’d have bought loads more, but that’ll keep me busy till Spring.
We stopped for a coffee/milkshake at my favourite eatery in Elgin: Scribbles. I’ve loved it for years, because it’s properly baby- and child-friendly, as evidenced by the fact that it’s always heaving. I had a proper, drooling, dreaming addiction to their beef chilli melt whilst pregnant with both Mid and Mini. Today, Maxi had a strawberry milkshake and pink coconut ice slice, in a fit of girly-ness.
I also had an early and most welcome Christmas present: my work pension has been increased by about 10%, to be back-dated to last year. It’s incredibly timely because I calculated that I needed exactly that much more than we currently earn as a family in order for me to remain a stay-at-home mum for the next couple of years. This was why I started my little business, to try to make up the shortfall. (My latest calculations show that with the increase in the cost of living, I not only need the pension increase and to keep my little business running, I also need to earn more! But I’ll worry about that next week). Anyway, anyway, it’s not very much, but it was incredibly welcome. So Merry Christmas right back atcha.
Lastly, I just noticed that I have quite a few folk following this blog by email. Wow! So (a) sorry to clog your inbox with my drivel*, (b) but thank you very much, though, and (c) Merry Christmas and hope your 2012 is interesting, fun and one you’ll remember very fondly.
*Actually, I shouldn’t apologise for how I write – I can’t really change that. I don’t write because I want to, it’s because I need to. Otherwise it just clogs up my addled little head. I tend to sit down when I have 10 mins free and start writing wee comments about the things that happened that day. Usually I manage to join the comments and quips up a bit into something coherent, but not always. And 100% of the time I get carried away and the typing gets faster and faster and noisier and harder, till I’m battering away at the keyboard, in a flurry of fingers and froth, pouring everything out via my fingers (and that’s just the Polyanna posts – you should see me on the angry, ranty posts…). I rarely proof-read through lack of time and opportunity (eg right now Mini is helpfully (!) pressing the keys and wailing at me when I press delete on them – gotta go!) and tend to just bash ‘publish’.
So: Merry Christmas! And please do comment sometimes and just say hi. Even use a pseudonym. Gosh, DEFINITELY use a pseudonym – that could be loads of fun 🙂
Right, I’m off to work the minxes up into a frenzy of excitement and Christmas hysteria. Because I can. And because you’re young and innocent and are made ecstatically happy by tinsel and lights and chocolate and present anticipation for such a horribly short time.