I think it was the thunder that woke me up this morning; either that or the rain pounding down outside. Often I just snuggle down back to sleep again but this morning I felt alone and wanted mummy. I called her from where I was lying and she called back to me and told me to come in.
Mummy and daddy's room is just a little way away from mine but when you're half asleep and feeling fed up, it seems like a mile away. I wasn't best pleased that mummy hadn't come in to see me and I was even less pleased when, stumbling into their room with my eyes still half-clogged with sleep, who should I see lying on the bed with mummy and daddy but Mark.
He'd beaten me to it again.
I don't know how long he'd been there but he was wide awake and on his tummy, plum bang in the middle of mummy and daddy.
"Move Mark" I said.
"It's OK, you come on as well" said mummy. But I couldn't easily come on as well because Mark was where I wanted to be and he showed absolutely no signs of wanting to move.
I know he's still a baby and too young to understand that there's a pecking order, but really he's not so young that he can't see who's the bigger of the two of us. In the end, daddy moved, which sort of solved the problem because mummy then lay across the bed with Mark on one side and me on the other. Then I moved to where Mark was and he in turn started to climb all over me, trying to reach first the phone and then the tissue paper. I don't know what it is about Mark and tissue paper but he can't seem to get enough of it; tissue-obsessive if you ask me.
Daddy went to the bathroom and we settled into a brief and uneasy truce before mummy called one of the maids and Mark was whisked away to go and play with them. I think she was still sleepy and I was certainly sleepy whereas Mark just wanted to pull and poke and crawl and gurgle. As soon as he disappeared we fell instantly asleep.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Paints and stickers
I did some more dib and dab yesterday. Well it was more dab and dab actually, or splat and splat if I'm honest. First of all I covered my hands in paint and then, SPLAT! I splatted them down onto some paper; lots of little hand-prints from yours truly. Daddy's going to take it and give it to grandad when he goes to England later in the week. That will be the second piece of artwork I've given him; next time I'm going to charge.
After I'd finished painting, I dipped the brush in the goldfish tank. I didn't tell mummy I'd done this and she only noticed when she and daddy were having their tea (eating fish as it turned out). "Motts, did you dip your brush in the fish tank?" mummy asked. "No," I said, but it was pretty obvious I'd done so as the water was even cloudier than usual and the fish were pulling strange faces in the way that only paint-poisoned fish can do. Ibia cleaned them out straight away and when I looked this morning they were still alive, so it can't have done them too much harm.
Later, after we'd all eaten, I found an activity book which mummy and daddy had bought me at the weekend and I started taking the stickers out to stick on mummy's hand. It's pretty boring to just stick stickers where you're supposed to and so I stick them wherever I like, which normally tends to be where daddy doesn't like: on the fridge, on the back of his car seats, on his books. After I'd stickered mummy up nicely, I turned my attention to daddy and by the time it was my bed-time I'd completely covered one of his hands with small stickers: smileys, bees, frogs, sunshines and the like.
Mark had gone up to bed by this stage but he's too young for stickers anyway. In a worrying development though, he has started to crawl a lot more and he's now getting pretty fast. He nearly crawled himself off the settee tonight and mummy only just caught him before he nose-dived onto the marble floor. I do my best to keep an eye on him but you know what babies are like; sometimes they seem to be on a mission of self harm: any hard surface, sharp corner or dangerous object and they'll either bump into it or try to put it in their mouth. Sometimes you marvel at how mankind has advanced this far even and not snuffed itself out long ago. I shudder to think how many cavemen children must have choked to death on small rocks and mammoth bones.
After I'd finished painting, I dipped the brush in the goldfish tank. I didn't tell mummy I'd done this and she only noticed when she and daddy were having their tea (eating fish as it turned out). "Motts, did you dip your brush in the fish tank?" mummy asked. "No," I said, but it was pretty obvious I'd done so as the water was even cloudier than usual and the fish were pulling strange faces in the way that only paint-poisoned fish can do. Ibia cleaned them out straight away and when I looked this morning they were still alive, so it can't have done them too much harm.
Later, after we'd all eaten, I found an activity book which mummy and daddy had bought me at the weekend and I started taking the stickers out to stick on mummy's hand. It's pretty boring to just stick stickers where you're supposed to and so I stick them wherever I like, which normally tends to be where daddy doesn't like: on the fridge, on the back of his car seats, on his books. After I'd stickered mummy up nicely, I turned my attention to daddy and by the time it was my bed-time I'd completely covered one of his hands with small stickers: smileys, bees, frogs, sunshines and the like.
Mark had gone up to bed by this stage but he's too young for stickers anyway. In a worrying development though, he has started to crawl a lot more and he's now getting pretty fast. He nearly crawled himself off the settee tonight and mummy only just caught him before he nose-dived onto the marble floor. I do my best to keep an eye on him but you know what babies are like; sometimes they seem to be on a mission of self harm: any hard surface, sharp corner or dangerous object and they'll either bump into it or try to put it in their mouth. Sometimes you marvel at how mankind has advanced this far even and not snuffed itself out long ago. I shudder to think how many cavemen children must have choked to death on small rocks and mammoth bones.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Presents
Daddy's friends came over on Saturday and they brought Mark and me presents. I got a bed-time story book for daddy to read to me from, and Mark got some stacking blocks. He's a bit too young for those yet so I played with them instead.
We had spoken to grandma on Friday night because Auntie Emma had just gone into hospital to have her baby and mummy and daddy were catching up on news. Grandma seemed quite surprised that it was gone ten o'clock at night and I was still up, but then what's the point of me going to bed early? All I do is wriggle around and cause a fuss and that's just no fun for anyone then. Grandma also asked if daddy read me stories and I think I said "No" because he doesn't really. Mind you, I have the attention span of a goldfish most times and when he does start to read, I normally drift off or try to turn the pages before he's finished what he's reading.
But in any event, this weekend seems to have been geared towards me getting more quality reading time from daddy. First off, there was the grandma conversation, then on Saturday morning he sat down and read, The Cat in The Hat and The Cat in the Hat Comes Back by Dr Seuss, then he ordered those two pieces of furniture to get all my bits and pieces onto. Finally, like I say, I got another reading book from daddy's friend, so I suppose you could say it's been a pretty OK weekend. One of these days I might even start to treat my books with a little care and attention, but for the moment I actually prefer to scribble on and rip the pages rather than hear what's written on them.
We had spoken to grandma on Friday night because Auntie Emma had just gone into hospital to have her baby and mummy and daddy were catching up on news. Grandma seemed quite surprised that it was gone ten o'clock at night and I was still up, but then what's the point of me going to bed early? All I do is wriggle around and cause a fuss and that's just no fun for anyone then. Grandma also asked if daddy read me stories and I think I said "No" because he doesn't really. Mind you, I have the attention span of a goldfish most times and when he does start to read, I normally drift off or try to turn the pages before he's finished what he's reading.
But in any event, this weekend seems to have been geared towards me getting more quality reading time from daddy. First off, there was the grandma conversation, then on Saturday morning he sat down and read, The Cat in The Hat and The Cat in the Hat Comes Back by Dr Seuss, then he ordered those two pieces of furniture to get all my bits and pieces onto. Finally, like I say, I got another reading book from daddy's friend, so I suppose you could say it's been a pretty OK weekend. One of these days I might even start to treat my books with a little care and attention, but for the moment I actually prefer to scribble on and rip the pages rather than hear what's written on them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
