Amble with the Perambulator

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.



Brilliant design…

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.)

Cherryvale 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!


Why do we need to know what new babies weigh?

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.


Adventures in weaning #3

Little B has an egg allergy, so it was with some trepidation that I approached the ‘hard boiled egg’ advice in the NHS weaning handbook when it came to introducing them to Littler B.  They’re so alike in looks that I sort of expect them to be alike in all other ways, including allergies.  And it turns out, I was right – mushed up hard boiled egg all over the floor…



As you can see from the pictures, I had bypassed the usual plastic bowl/Tupperware container/beaker and used a mug.  I have a set of 6 of these mugs.  I bought them from Habitat when I worked in their cookware department 17 years ago.  17 years!  I’ve moved house 4 times with them.  They’re lovely mugs to drink from, and a classic design.  Now I have 5.  Sad face emoji.

Goodbye lovely mug, you served me well.


On the plus side, the baby doesn’t seem to be allergic to eggs.  Though it’s hard to tell as she bokes up all the time anyway…

Adventures in Weaning #2

Broccoli, broccoli, broccoli EVERYWHERE….


She LOVES broccoli


She loves to mush it up in her wee hands


Some of it even went in her mouth.

NB:  To clean up this amount of broccoli mess, you must first use kitchen towel to remove as much of the mush as you can, then wipe round with some kind of jaycloth type affair, then give it another wipe over with a cleaning wipe, then brush it up off the floor, then use a cloth to remove the mush from your brush, then another cloth etc etc etc.  Broccoli is bloody hard to clean up.  I nearly got the hoover out, and that is not something I do on a regular basis.