So the kids have finally broken up from school. The tree is up, the cards are sent, just the mound of wrapping to be done. There is no point putting parcels under the tree before Christmas Eve, as a certain person cannot resist tearing them open - regardless to whom they belong.
When we were in town the other day, Dais clicked herself free from the stroller and dashed into 3 Mobile. She had managed to tear the shiny paper off several of their window display xmas parcels before I could steady the teetering pushchair and race in after her.
We have quite a few "heritage" decorations inherited from Mr Nichols' youth. These obviously hold a lot of sentimental value for him, so we try to keep them up high and away from her prying fingers. On the way to bed the other night, she managed to squeeze her little arm through the bannisters to grab for the 40 yr old Christmas Bell hanging from the hall ceiling. Lucky enough, I managed to wrench her back through and her flailing arms only knocked the door bell chime off the wall and into a thousand pieces - phew! (The poor old chime box looked like something from a Tom & Jerry cartoon with the springs all going "boing").
As her sister's school had an inset day last Friday, I decided to take the bull by the horns and try the visiting Santa at Willows challenge ahead of the Christmas holidays. I got my timing pretty spot on and arrived just as two large groups of school children were leaving, but before it got dark. Cut the queuing time down to a mere 40 minutes! Needless to say, they were forty pretty fraught minutes of Dais clambering over the lovely grotto displays and trying to shin up tinsel covered posts, but we got there in one piece and I hadn't even used my "fish-wife voice".
When we were finally ensconsed in Santa's room, she discovered his large brass handbell (for alerting the elves he was ready to receive his next guests).. The only way we could get her to sit still for the photo was by ringing it rather loudly and insistently.
Mind you, it was all worth it as I discovered her innermost desires as she sat on his lap and answered the question "what would you like for Christmas?" Her answer? "Toys!"
Saturday 20 December 2008
Thursday 6 November 2008
And then she was three!
Have the last 18 months been a very long case of the "terrible two's" or is she just built like that? Since she has just turned 3yrs, we are holding our breath to find out.
When asked what she wanted for her birthday, all she would say was "Bucker-woo" - the bucking mule game we all remember from our own childhood. Tiny pieces of plastic exploding across the playroom floor? OK, I can cope with that. As the day drew nearer there were urgent requests for playdoh, anything with Upsy Daisy on it and all things Pepa Pig. This will be a completely new language to you if you don't have a 3yr old.
On the eve of her birthday, we were buying balloons and her SpongeBob birthday cake in Sainsbury's and she completely fell in love with a doll from High School Musical that sings with it's own microphone. As anyone who has tried shopping with a manic nearly 3 yr old will tell you, you come to a point where you would give them your spleen if they would just get back in the trolley so you can get out of there.
The day arrived and the family came over. We all sat around watching her opening her presents - Buckeroo, Playdoh, Upsy Daisy bedside light/torch and lots of Pepa Pig characters. She blew out the candles and handed around the cake. It all went really rather well.
In the afternoon, they were invited to a friend's party and had a whale of a time jumping about, eating their own body weight in Wotsits and generally making their tights filthy. When we got in I had to dig the foot spa out of deep storage to prize Molly's sticky tights off, and then we all settled down to a relaxing tea. As the family were having a normal conversation, it struck me that Dais was nowhere to be seen and upon closer inspection I found everything she had been bought that day bobbing around in the foot spa. The tiny pieces of plastic and Pepa Pig characters were OK but the High School Musical microphone is definately a gonna.
When asked what she wanted for her birthday, all she would say was "Bucker-woo" - the bucking mule game we all remember from our own childhood. Tiny pieces of plastic exploding across the playroom floor? OK, I can cope with that. As the day drew nearer there were urgent requests for playdoh, anything with Upsy Daisy on it and all things Pepa Pig. This will be a completely new language to you if you don't have a 3yr old.
On the eve of her birthday, we were buying balloons and her SpongeBob birthday cake in Sainsbury's and she completely fell in love with a doll from High School Musical that sings with it's own microphone. As anyone who has tried shopping with a manic nearly 3 yr old will tell you, you come to a point where you would give them your spleen if they would just get back in the trolley so you can get out of there.
The day arrived and the family came over. We all sat around watching her opening her presents - Buckeroo, Playdoh, Upsy Daisy bedside light/torch and lots of Pepa Pig characters. She blew out the candles and handed around the cake. It all went really rather well.
In the afternoon, they were invited to a friend's party and had a whale of a time jumping about, eating their own body weight in Wotsits and generally making their tights filthy. When we got in I had to dig the foot spa out of deep storage to prize Molly's sticky tights off, and then we all settled down to a relaxing tea. As the family were having a normal conversation, it struck me that Dais was nowhere to be seen and upon closer inspection I found everything she had been bought that day bobbing around in the foot spa. The tiny pieces of plastic and Pepa Pig characters were OK but the High School Musical microphone is definately a gonna.
Saturday 11 October 2008
Pirate Daisy
I'm quite good at Shepherd's Pie, though I do say so myself. I've found that if you take a Homepride Sauce and add nice mince from the farm shop, potatoes and veg from your own allotment and grate cheese over the top you come out with a pretty tasty treat. More than that, it doesn't take long.
When it's a "Seppards Pie" night (as Dais calls it) I can be pretty confident that I can ignore most noises from the playroom coz I'm only going to be a minute. I could hear her calling out "I'm Pirate Daisy" but I figured that would be her and Molly in their Peter Pan outfits dueling with their plastic swords, so cracked on with my culinary family treat.
When I finally set the oven timer to 30 mins and leant back to relax against the cupboards, this is what met my gaze ... Molly had indeed created a Pirate Daisy with a thick black permanent marker she had pinched from my office.
After I had scrubbed rather unsuccessfully at the marker pen for a while, I decided the rest would come off in the shower tomorrow morning and turned my attention to making their beds, putting out their pyjamas and closing the curtains for the night.
When I returned to the kitchen I found that Dais had created her own new hot drink blend. She had tipped all the coffee into the sugar and all the sugar into the coffee with a liberal smattering around the kitchen floor (right in front of the oven). After sweeping everything up and wiping the bottom of my sticky slippers, I decided a cuppa was in order and to my surprise the new Daisy blend was really rather good. I usually have to take one spoon of coffee from the top pot and then go to all the bother of adding sugar from the bottom one. This way I only had to add 2 spoons from the Daisy blend.
Nice one Dais!
When it's a "Seppards Pie" night (as Dais calls it) I can be pretty confident that I can ignore most noises from the playroom coz I'm only going to be a minute. I could hear her calling out "I'm Pirate Daisy" but I figured that would be her and Molly in their Peter Pan outfits dueling with their plastic swords, so cracked on with my culinary family treat.
When I finally set the oven timer to 30 mins and leant back to relax against the cupboards, this is what met my gaze ... Molly had indeed created a Pirate Daisy with a thick black permanent marker she had pinched from my office.
After I had scrubbed rather unsuccessfully at the marker pen for a while, I decided the rest would come off in the shower tomorrow morning and turned my attention to making their beds, putting out their pyjamas and closing the curtains for the night.
When I returned to the kitchen I found that Dais had created her own new hot drink blend. She had tipped all the coffee into the sugar and all the sugar into the coffee with a liberal smattering around the kitchen floor (right in front of the oven). After sweeping everything up and wiping the bottom of my sticky slippers, I decided a cuppa was in order and to my surprise the new Daisy blend was really rather good. I usually have to take one spoon of coffee from the top pot and then go to all the bother of adding sugar from the bottom one. This way I only had to add 2 spoons from the Daisy blend.
Nice one Dais!
Saturday 30 August 2008
Eating in Public
We've not long been back from our family holiday. I can thoroughly recommend the location and the accommodation was excellent. The only problem was it was the first week of August in England!
It rained continuously which rendered my choice of "cottage next to secluded South Devon beach" a bit redundant. It soon started to feel like a week of rainy Sunday afternoons ... still got to find something to amuse the kids. A bit of a busman's holiday then ...
One evening we decided to risk taking Dais out to eat in public - never a great idea. We drove around tiny country lanes, splashing through enormous puddles to find a pub that was not fully booked on a Saturday evening. Finally we came upon the Golden Hind and, leaning into the wind as we crossed the car park, came up with the last free table in the area.
Luckily it was a corner table. We were able to put Dais on a bench next to the wall while the rest of us penned her in. Whilst waiting for our order, Dais treated us to a song, accompanying herself on the copper pans hanging from the walls to add some rythmn. She made herself a great "cake" in a little pot on the table created from the sachets of sugar, salt, ketchup and tartare sauce and by the time the meal arrived, was under the table shouting "Ready, aim ... fire!" with the miniature brass cannon decorating every table to underscore the Golden Hind theme.
Most parents would feel pretty stressed feeding their child fishy nuggets under the table, but remember we had been out in public for nearly an hour and she hadn't set light to anything yet.
We were so delighted with the breakthrough, we decided to stay for pudding.
Cheers!
It rained continuously which rendered my choice of "cottage next to secluded South Devon beach" a bit redundant. It soon started to feel like a week of rainy Sunday afternoons ... still got to find something to amuse the kids. A bit of a busman's holiday then ...
One evening we decided to risk taking Dais out to eat in public - never a great idea. We drove around tiny country lanes, splashing through enormous puddles to find a pub that was not fully booked on a Saturday evening. Finally we came upon the Golden Hind and, leaning into the wind as we crossed the car park, came up with the last free table in the area.
Luckily it was a corner table. We were able to put Dais on a bench next to the wall while the rest of us penned her in. Whilst waiting for our order, Dais treated us to a song, accompanying herself on the copper pans hanging from the walls to add some rythmn. She made herself a great "cake" in a little pot on the table created from the sachets of sugar, salt, ketchup and tartare sauce and by the time the meal arrived, was under the table shouting "Ready, aim ... fire!" with the miniature brass cannon decorating every table to underscore the Golden Hind theme.
Most parents would feel pretty stressed feeding their child fishy nuggets under the table, but remember we had been out in public for nearly an hour and she hadn't set light to anything yet.
We were so delighted with the breakthrough, we decided to stay for pudding.
Cheers!
Friday 29 August 2008
Out In Public
We've not long been back from our family holiday. I can thoroughly recommend the location and the accommodation was excellent. The only problem was it was the first week of August in England! It rained continuously which rendered my choice of "cottage next to secluded South Devon beach" a bit redundant. It soon started to feel like a week of rainy Sunday afternoons ... still got to find something to amuse the kids.
One evening we decided to risk taking Dais out to eat in public - never a great idea. We drove around tiny country lanes, splashing through enormous puddles to find a pub that was not fully booked on a Saturday evening. Finally we came upon the Golden Hind and leaning into the wind as we crossed the car park came up with the last free table in the area.
Wednesday 30 July 2008
Child Labour
Dais came along to an end of term party at a local Toddler Group where I was working last week. We were wearing matching Usborne T shirts and she was helping me demonstrate her favourite titles. When we were heading out the door she said "We're twins Mummy" - and so we were.
However, I did not trash the jewellery stall, poke a delicious home made cup cake down the drain or run off with the face painter's mirror, so not that similar really.
However, she redeemed herself by showing the other tots how our new Wind-Up Train Book works http://tinyurl.com/5m68vz which created a lot of interest and lead to sales, so maybe using cheap child labour was quite a good idea after all?
However, I did not trash the jewellery stall, poke a delicious home made cup cake down the drain or run off with the face painter's mirror, so not that similar really.
However, she redeemed herself by showing the other tots how our new Wind-Up Train Book works http://tinyurl.com/5m68vz which created a lot of interest and lead to sales, so maybe using cheap child labour was quite a good idea after all?
Monday 21 July 2008
Postman Dais
As you can already tell from this blog, Daisy commits so many little crimes in a week there are not enough hours in the day to record them all.
I guess the best one of last week has to be when Dais became a postman. You know when you put your hand into your bag, you can pretty much identify all it's contents without looking. When you feel your purse, you know it's your purse - it feels like it!
I arrived at a Toddler Group with my Usborne books one morning and reached into my bag to feel this strange, thin, leather item about the size of my purse, but not my purse. When I pulled it out, it looked like mine, but was empty. That bloomin' Dais.
I called my cleaner to say there was a treat for her if she found where Dais had stashed the contents, but when I got back she was none the wiser. I have had my cleaner longer than I have had the kids, so I took her advice when she said "Why don't you just ask her?" She may be only 2yrs but she is not thick!
So I kindly bent down to her level to ask her where was Mummy's "tickets" as she calls my credit cards. "I posted dem" she said. I had already checked on the front door step, so I was a little confused. "Where did you post dem Dais?" she took my hand and lead me into our lounge with it's real floorboards and pointed "Dere and dere and dere" - every last item from my purse had been pushed down between the floorboards.
The only highlight of that day was witnessing a tired Daddy with a failing torch lifting the boards and shouting "Book of Stamps? Costco card? .."
Absolutely nothing is safe.
I guess the best one of last week has to be when Dais became a postman. You know when you put your hand into your bag, you can pretty much identify all it's contents without looking. When you feel your purse, you know it's your purse - it feels like it!
I arrived at a Toddler Group with my Usborne books one morning and reached into my bag to feel this strange, thin, leather item about the size of my purse, but not my purse. When I pulled it out, it looked like mine, but was empty. That bloomin' Dais.
I called my cleaner to say there was a treat for her if she found where Dais had stashed the contents, but when I got back she was none the wiser. I have had my cleaner longer than I have had the kids, so I took her advice when she said "Why don't you just ask her?" She may be only 2yrs but she is not thick!
So I kindly bent down to her level to ask her where was Mummy's "tickets" as she calls my credit cards. "I posted dem" she said. I had already checked on the front door step, so I was a little confused. "Where did you post dem Dais?" she took my hand and lead me into our lounge with it's real floorboards and pointed "Dere and dere and dere" - every last item from my purse had been pushed down between the floorboards.
The only highlight of that day was witnessing a tired Daddy with a failing torch lifting the boards and shouting "Book of Stamps? Costco card? .."
Absolutely nothing is safe.
Friday 6 June 2008
The Wide Awake Club
I don't know if it is the lighter mornings, her skin being itchy or the fact that she still insists on wearing a nappy, but she is wide awake for the dawn chorus.
4am this morning I was changing her soggy nappy, creaming her skin and trying to get her to settle back down. "I want a muwky" (milky) is all she will say, and like a digital alarm clock, it gets louder and louder until, for fear of waking the rest of the house at such an ungodly hour, you hit the snooze button and give in "well just a little one". She always promises she will stay in bed with bear whilst I go downstairs to get it, and every time she is in the kitchen with me before the microwave beeps.
Then we have "I want Misser Maker" (CBeebies Mister Maker art show) which gets louder and louder until ... well just a quick one. It's no wonder I look like her grandmother dropping her off in the morning. I feel old and grey (skin not hair) and can't understand where she gets her energy. You would think she would drop like a stone after a fun morning eating playdough at pre-school but she can tough it out until gone 3pm which is when I need to get her sister and so have to poke her to keep her awake. A number of times I have been making their tea and realised she has finally crashed out about an hour and a half before bedtime, so after a nice refreshing power nap she is up and bouncing again and the last place she wants to be is bed.
Roll on the teenage years when I will have to prise her out of bed with a crow bar - only another fifteen years to go - yay!
4am this morning I was changing her soggy nappy, creaming her skin and trying to get her to settle back down. "I want a muwky" (milky) is all she will say, and like a digital alarm clock, it gets louder and louder until, for fear of waking the rest of the house at such an ungodly hour, you hit the snooze button and give in "well just a little one". She always promises she will stay in bed with bear whilst I go downstairs to get it, and every time she is in the kitchen with me before the microwave beeps.
Then we have "I want Misser Maker" (CBeebies Mister Maker art show) which gets louder and louder until ... well just a quick one. It's no wonder I look like her grandmother dropping her off in the morning. I feel old and grey (skin not hair) and can't understand where she gets her energy. You would think she would drop like a stone after a fun morning eating playdough at pre-school but she can tough it out until gone 3pm which is when I need to get her sister and so have to poke her to keep her awake. A number of times I have been making their tea and realised she has finally crashed out about an hour and a half before bedtime, so after a nice refreshing power nap she is up and bouncing again and the last place she wants to be is bed.
Roll on the teenage years when I will have to prise her out of bed with a crow bar - only another fifteen years to go - yay!
Craft Crazy
Her sister is an extremely gifted young artist. Her drawings were chosen for the front cover of the School Fete and Christmas Carol programmes. Her latest achievement was being featured in a crafting magazine, which I said makes her officially "published"!
It is very hard not to have the pens, paints, and all the accoutrements needed for some serious licking and sticking in the house. The trouble is Dais can spot a felt tip from a hundred yards and so our home is one huge installation piece and we have come to realise we will just have to wait until she leaves for college before getting the decorators in.
Not only does she express her creative flair anywhere but on paper, but her favourite medium is the body. As she suffers from eczema, this is particularly challenging. As the dutiful parents, we spend ages bathing and creaming her only to find she has ink stamped her legs, painted the soles of her feet and run across the "good rug" and has usually added a fresh scribble to a blank wall between bath and bed.
She won't let me brush her hair in the morning and screams "No! I luff my knots" spits the toothpaste onto the floor (or wipes it into the shaver's plug point on the wall) and usually goes to pre-school with glitter glue on at least one cheek.
Her teachers must think "there's that poor little sod that nobody loves ..."
It is very hard not to have the pens, paints, and all the accoutrements needed for some serious licking and sticking in the house. The trouble is Dais can spot a felt tip from a hundred yards and so our home is one huge installation piece and we have come to realise we will just have to wait until she leaves for college before getting the decorators in.
Not only does she express her creative flair anywhere but on paper, but her favourite medium is the body. As she suffers from eczema, this is particularly challenging. As the dutiful parents, we spend ages bathing and creaming her only to find she has ink stamped her legs, painted the soles of her feet and run across the "good rug" and has usually added a fresh scribble to a blank wall between bath and bed.
She won't let me brush her hair in the morning and screams "No! I luff my knots" spits the toothpaste onto the floor (or wipes it into the shaver's plug point on the wall) and usually goes to pre-school with glitter glue on at least one cheek.
Her teachers must think "there's that poor little sod that nobody loves ..."
The Great Flood
If it weren't for that mass of curly blonde locks, I could probably learn to discipline her. There is something so full of joy in the way she trashes everything we own. There is not a spiteful or malicious bone in her body.
I would be a rich woman indeed if I had a pound for every time I said "No! - Don't touch ... dirty/hot/dangerous/hurt the baby etc" She has absolutely no fear, and can't understand why I make such a fuss.
My father-in-law reminded me of a recent occasion we call "The Great Flood". She was supposedly brushing her teeth and I nipped out of the bathroom to attend to some minor but very quick job. I heard the characteristic gushing of water and called out the usual warning "Turn it down Dais ... not so much water" I came back into the bathroom within minutes and let out an involuntary scream as I watched the water flooding over the edge of the sink onto an already soaked bathroom carpet. I knew it was bad, as the carpet is usually cream and already it was a dirty beige from all that water. Instead of bursting into tears or jumping out of her skin at my outburst she just calmly looked around and said "Whatta matter wid you?"
Daddy and sister were down in the kitchen with bowls under each of the dripping light fittings, wildly mopping the skating rink that once was our laminate flooring whilst I was on my hands and knees pressing every clean towel we possess into the squidgy carpet and where was Dais? Jumping on my bed - of course!
I would be a rich woman indeed if I had a pound for every time I said "No! - Don't touch ... dirty/hot/dangerous/hurt the baby etc" She has absolutely no fear, and can't understand why I make such a fuss.
My father-in-law reminded me of a recent occasion we call "The Great Flood". She was supposedly brushing her teeth and I nipped out of the bathroom to attend to some minor but very quick job. I heard the characteristic gushing of water and called out the usual warning "Turn it down Dais ... not so much water" I came back into the bathroom within minutes and let out an involuntary scream as I watched the water flooding over the edge of the sink onto an already soaked bathroom carpet. I knew it was bad, as the carpet is usually cream and already it was a dirty beige from all that water. Instead of bursting into tears or jumping out of her skin at my outburst she just calmly looked around and said "Whatta matter wid you?"
Daddy and sister were down in the kitchen with bowls under each of the dripping light fittings, wildly mopping the skating rink that once was our laminate flooring whilst I was on my hands and knees pressing every clean towel we possess into the squidgy carpet and where was Dais? Jumping on my bed - of course!
Friday 2 May 2008
Top 10 Crimes
1. Pushing every last DVD down the cracks in the floorboards
2. Scribbling on every available surface, walls, doors, floors, furniture and once a piece of paper!
3. Leaving something "on" in the car so the battery is dead at school pick-up time (twice).
4. Mashing every last item of make-up into my pine dressing table (inc. nail varnish)
5. Microwaving Molly's sandals into a black sticky blob - black smoke and a delightful smell
6. Pushing cocktail sticks into the toaster so they ignite when next used
7. Using the pull down oven door as a step up onto the surface
8. Making us a "tuppa tea" by pouring all the coffee granules into the kettle and surrounding area
9. Pretending to be the Andrex puppy with every single loo roll I put out
10.Wiping her hands, nose, face on anything but the kitchen roll I give her - stain city
2. Scribbling on every available surface, walls, doors, floors, furniture and once a piece of paper!
3. Leaving something "on" in the car so the battery is dead at school pick-up time (twice).
4. Mashing every last item of make-up into my pine dressing table (inc. nail varnish)
5. Microwaving Molly's sandals into a black sticky blob - black smoke and a delightful smell
6. Pushing cocktail sticks into the toaster so they ignite when next used
7. Using the pull down oven door as a step up onto the surface
8. Making us a "tuppa tea" by pouring all the coffee granules into the kettle and surrounding area
9. Pretending to be the Andrex puppy with every single loo roll I put out
10.Wiping her hands, nose, face on anything but the kitchen roll I give her - stain city
Where to begin?
She wasn't always so naughty. In fact, she was quite a peaceful little person as a baby. I figured it was my turn to have a laid back one after her sister being so highly strung as a baby. Then around 18 months the baby turned into the toddler and here we are. A year lady and Seek and Destroy Dais is still running the joint.
I have always been a bit of a control freak. Before getting married, I alphabetised my CD collection, had my books themed onto different shelves and always knew where everything was. I didn't like a lot of noise and mess and valued my "me" time. Contrast that with how I live today, and you will understand the wonder of "mad pills" from the docs!
When it was just me and her sister, I was quite the Earth Mother. We did some kind of baby activity every day and I was often found whipping up a batch of home made playdough and finger painting at the kitchen table.
When Dais arrived, some of those activities had to go on a back burner due to time restraints and as she became more mobile, for her safety (and my sanity). Since turning 18 months, it doesn't seem to matter where you put forbidden items - she can always find them.
There have been crimes so numerous, that I don't think I will ever remember them all, but if I start a daily blog I can at least remember them for my scrapbook in years to come.
Todays highlights - Green felt pen all over my tasteful fabric dining chairs - not a streak, not a smudge, but a full blown Jackson Pollack over three out of four of them. The fourth one was already trashed by glitter glue some weeks ago.
A whole new art piece in the hallway - this time using navy blue felt tip. Her circles are coming on great!
Items that have been "Daisied" (i.e. no longer fit for human use) today:
The lipgloss from my handbag
My new white T shirt - that tomato sauce will never come out.
Items lost without trace today: (May turn up later in a welly in the garage?)
My favourite Miglio necklace
My Armani watch
Daddy's black boots
Hours slept: 5.
Would not go to bed last night. Finally put her into bed around 8.30pm and left to settle herself. Calling out turned to screaming about 9pm. Went to check only to find she had scratched herself so badly that it was bleeding - good one! Mummy can't ignore blood. Downstairs watching Tom & Jerry on the sofa until finally dozed off at 11pm. Back into own (freshly changed) bed only to wake at 4am. Didn't dare leave her to scratch her poor foot, so into bed with me. Woke up with head on bedside cabinet clinging to the mattress seam as she laid star shaped in the centre of my double bed.
Mummy feeling a little pooped today, but Dais full of beans ...
I have always been a bit of a control freak. Before getting married, I alphabetised my CD collection, had my books themed onto different shelves and always knew where everything was. I didn't like a lot of noise and mess and valued my "me" time. Contrast that with how I live today, and you will understand the wonder of "mad pills" from the docs!
When it was just me and her sister, I was quite the Earth Mother. We did some kind of baby activity every day and I was often found whipping up a batch of home made playdough and finger painting at the kitchen table.
When Dais arrived, some of those activities had to go on a back burner due to time restraints and as she became more mobile, for her safety (and my sanity). Since turning 18 months, it doesn't seem to matter where you put forbidden items - she can always find them.
There have been crimes so numerous, that I don't think I will ever remember them all, but if I start a daily blog I can at least remember them for my scrapbook in years to come.
Todays highlights - Green felt pen all over my tasteful fabric dining chairs - not a streak, not a smudge, but a full blown Jackson Pollack over three out of four of them. The fourth one was already trashed by glitter glue some weeks ago.
A whole new art piece in the hallway - this time using navy blue felt tip. Her circles are coming on great!
Items that have been "Daisied" (i.e. no longer fit for human use) today:
The lipgloss from my handbag
My new white T shirt - that tomato sauce will never come out.
Items lost without trace today: (May turn up later in a welly in the garage?)
My favourite Miglio necklace
My Armani watch
Daddy's black boots
Hours slept: 5.
Would not go to bed last night. Finally put her into bed around 8.30pm and left to settle herself. Calling out turned to screaming about 9pm. Went to check only to find she had scratched herself so badly that it was bleeding - good one! Mummy can't ignore blood. Downstairs watching Tom & Jerry on the sofa until finally dozed off at 11pm. Back into own (freshly changed) bed only to wake at 4am. Didn't dare leave her to scratch her poor foot, so into bed with me. Woke up with head on bedside cabinet clinging to the mattress seam as she laid star shaped in the centre of my double bed.
Mummy feeling a little pooped today, but Dais full of beans ...
You Ought To Write That Down!
Anyone who has met my daughter will tell you they have never seen a child with so many hands! When recounting stories to friends, it is usual to add an element of embellishment for the sake of a good story. With Daisy as the subject, no embellisment is needed - it is ALL TRUE.
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