This is how Little B chose to walk to playgroup this morning. Doesn’t she look like a Victorian nanny out taking her ward for a morning constitutional? Check out how she’s wearing her cardigan.
During the walk she told me that her feet were in the water, so she had to use the bridge. I had to swim beside her because there was no room on the bridge. Then the bridge broke, so I had to lend her my hovercraft to go the next part of the journey. But oh no, the hovercraft has broken down… Luckily there was a hot air balloon beside the fence, so we used that until it crashed into a tree.
Then she started doing monkey impressions.
Walking to playgroup is fun.
I bought this lovely new sleeping bag for Littler B a couple of weeks ago. It’s from Sainsbury’s in case you want to rush out and get yourself one. £12 well spent.
It’s so easy to get on and off the baby. It has buttons at the shoulders, and a zip up the left side which allows you to open it up like a book. And just look how cute the design on the front is:
It’s some bunnies, playing in a wigwam. With bunting! Mega cute.
But the reason I love this sleeping bag so much is one little tiny piece of design. It’s so thoughtful, and I’ve never come across it before on any other piece of baby clothing or accessory. It’s this:
That little tab folds over the head of the zip when it’s all zipped up, meaning that the metal ‘handle’ can’t flap about, and your baby never has to come into contact with the metal. I LOVE this. Well done to the Sainsbo’s designers.
(This post is not sponsored. I’m just sharing something lovely with you.)
NEW PARK!!! BRAND NEW PARK!
Any parent who has taken their kids to a park will know how amazing it is to visit a brand new playpark – there is no obscene graffiti, no broken swings, no peeling paint, no ‘potholes’ in the rubber surface. Driving up the Ravenhill Road the other day I glanced to my left and spotted some new wood poking up above the hedge, where yellow and red metal used to reign. “Ooooooh” I thought, “that looks like some kind of fancy new fort type thing in the park, I must check it out tomorrow.” So the following day, kiddies were strapped into the car and off we went, expecting to find one piece of new play equipment.
How overjoyed I was to find a completely revamped, rebuilt, brand new park. Little B was pretty happy too. We visited 4 days before their launch party, so I’m presuming we were amongst the first visitors. There is plenty to occupy an adventurous 3 and a half year old. There are three wooden ‘fort’ areas with climbing, bridges and slides – one for very little people, one for slightly biggers, and a third for older kids. There’s a set of swings for babies and toddlers, and another set with normal swing seats. There’s see-saws, and one of those big pyramid spider web climbing things.
In short, it’s lovely. Currently pristine, and a pleasure to take your kids to. There is plenty of parking, and playing fields beside the playpark if you need to run them ragged. Well done to Belfast City Council ‘Parks and Recreation’ department (probably not the real name but I love the TV show). Now please come and do up Orangefield Park’s play area because it’s a state and there’s pieces of equipment in there that friends in their late thirties played on when they were children!
I got the lovely news this morning that one of my old work friends had a baby last night. Well, actually his wife had the baby last night, but you know what I mean. I ogled the little picture of the newborn that he’d sent me, then wrote back a message of congratulations. I asked how the mum was, whether they’d chosen a name, and I almost asked what weight he was. Then I stopped myself. I really don’t need to know what weight he is – as long as he’s here and he’s healthy, what does it matter? 7 months ago when Littler B was born, I started to get a bit incensed at all the comments on her weight. She was a perfectly healthy 7lbs 10, but long, so complete strangers would ask her weight, then say things like “No, there’s no way she’s over 7lbs! She’s so small!”, or “Really? She looks about 5lbs, are you sure?” And, being a polite and well-brought-up sort, I would smile or shrug, whilst thinking to myself “Well of course I’m sure you idiot, she’s my bloody baby and I’ve checked the red book 10 times now because of people like you being so rude, questioning me, and commenting on how small/big/fat/thin my daughter is! I’m completely knackered and traumatised after the 11 hours of painful labour, have had no sleep for 3 days because the baby thinks night is day and I can’t sleep while she sleeps because I have an older child who’s nose is completely put out due to the arrival of her sibling , but thanks for making me question my sanity about the one thing that I actually do know about this baby. ”
So next time you’re about to ask the weight of a newborn baby, stop and think about whether you really need to know…
And to C and O, proud new parents, congratulations, he’s an absolute stunner. Welcome to the confusing, challenging, wonderful world of parenthood.
Daddy, why are you dead?
This came out of the blue one day. He wasn’t dead.
I’m putting on some make-up in the downstairs loo when she walks past, stops, and asks why I’m ‘doing make-up’. I say I’m trying to make me look like I’m not death warmed up.
Mummy, why you want to look like a dangly duck?
Whilst sitting on the toilet, after ballet class:
Mummy, the poo-poos just stay in my tummy. They sleep there. But their home is down the toilet. That’s where they go for a swim.