To snook or not to snook – wot so funee?

I went through the notes in my phone the other day and found some funees that I haven’t written up. So these are from the past couple of months, but I can still remember them now that the notes jog my memory.

When we were still living at Granny and Grandad’s house, Andrew saw a bit of a game of polo on the TV when they had it on in the background. He looked at it and came out with quite an accurate name for it: “That’s horse golf!” So now I will always think of polo as horse golf, because, well, it is really!

I have to say that both boys do like what some might think of as ‘healthy’ breakfast cereals – give them a bowl of weetabix or shreddies any day over a sugary sweet cereal. Andrew has got particularly into bran flakes recently, since we moved into our new house and Daddy ordered a couple of big boxes on our internet supermarket shop for when we first arrived. Only he likes to call them “brown flakes”, because that’s what he though he heard us say the first time he asked what they were. And indeed they are brown, and they are flakes, so again another accurate description from our little observant one!

Andrew has recently noticed that ‘Andrex’ is only one letter different from his name. The reason why we have talked about Andrex is that he is quite prone to doing an Andrex with the toilet roll when he’s taking some off the roll after going to the toilet. Joel has also been known to Andrex the roll, just for fun – what toddler hasn’t tried that?! So Daddy decided to show him a youtube clip of the old 1990s Andrex advert – the one where the boy is sitting on the loo and the lab runs off with the end of the roll, which he thinks is funny until there is none left for him to use. Andrew thought it was very funny watching the dog run off with the toilet paper, but his question at the end was: “What’s the boy doing on the toilet?” Erm, what do you think Andrew?! Give the lad some privacy. No wait, this was aired to millions of people when it was on TV, and now even more people via youtube.

Over the summer we went to a couple of the ‘drop-ins’ that our church had organised to help entertain families in the long summer holidays when there are no groups on. As well as toddler toys, there were also some bigger kids toys like table tennis tables, football tables and a snooker table. Andrew was far more interest din these various tables than he was in the usual cars and blocks that he annoys playing with at toddler groups. At one point he was trying to get me to come over to him at the snooker table, but I was busy trying to entertain Joel in another way (he’d already nearly caused a lot of damage by throwing a snooker ball across the room – oops!) Andrew’s words to try and get me over there were: “Mummy, please come over, we need to snook!” Of course, what does one do at a snooker table? One snooks, it’s obvious.

One night around bedtime I was trying to let Joel have some milk time, but Andrew had joined us and was jumping on the bed, so totally distracting Joel. I could hear Daddy coming up the stairs, so when he got to the top, I shouted over to him: “Can you remove Andrew from our presence please Daddy?” Andrew’s response was priceless: “Where? What presents?!” with a disturbed look on his face!

But Andrew isn’t the only one who causes trouble when we’re trying to do something else. One day when I was trying to make lunch for us, Joel managed to grab some biscuits off the work surface and was starting to munch them without me noticing. Andrew was on the ball though and shouted loudly: “Joel’s causing hammock!!” I had to think twice about what he meant, but when I saw the start of what could have been far more mess had we not stopped it, I understood why it was “hammock” (or havoc).


Wot So Funee?

Doughnuts at nursery – wot so funee?

I realised recently that i haven’t written a wot so funee? post for a few weeks. Life got busy with the move and the business getting busier by the week. Althoughh blogging may be on the back burner, I still want to keep a record of our lives on it, and that includes the funny things that the boys say, because language is something that really interests me and I want to look back on their language development one day and smile 🙂 So here are just few of the funees that I’ve collected over recent weeks….

When I was cutting Andrew’s finger nails one day, he insisted that I hadn’t finished when I thought I had. We counted the 10 fingers and I showed him that I’d cut the nail on all of them. “No, Mummy…. and my foot nails!” How wrong I was! It’s logical to call them foot nails, but it made me giggle.

One day (OK, it’s most days) Joel was annoying Andrew when they were playing in their bedroom/play room. “Go outside at mediately!” said Andrew. No that’s not autocorrect on my post, that’s ‘at mediately’ for ‘immediately’. He said this several times, with a crescendo at each repetition of the command. Joel didn’t take any notice of him, so in the end Andrew shrugged his shoulders and quietly said “OK, I’ll go outside then” as he walked off into the garden. If you can’t get rid of little brother, remove yourself from the room instead – it makes sense.

Andrew has recently started nursery (preschool). He goes 2 afternoons and 1 morning; in the afternoons he gets a snack at about 3.30pm. Whenever I ask him what he had, his answer has been things like cheese and crackers, fruit, salad, humous and dips with flat bread etc. The following was an interesting conversation I had with him yesterday after preschool…

Me: So, Andrew, did you have a nice snack at preschool today?

Andrew: YES! We had doughnuts!

M: Doughnuts?! [I mean I don’t mind him having the odd treat, but it seemed odd when other days there were much healthier options]

A: Yes they were round with a hole in.

M: Ah, so ring doughnuts? So they didn’t have anything in them, like jam.

A: No we had a spread on top of them.

M: Right…. what flavour was the spread? 

A: It was cheesy, very yummy.

M: Aha…. were they not bagels Andrew, with cream cheese on?

A: Ah yes, they were bagels, but they looked like doughnuts cut up.

M: Great!

So it turns out I won’t be needing to mention the nutritional content of snacks to his key worker after all. Phew!

I hope to write up more funees that I have saved in the notes on my phone soon!

Wot So Funee?

Our choice of nursery (preschool age)

I can’t believe that Andrew has just had his first week at preschool. It does’t seem long ago that he was a baby and we were treading through this thing called parenthood, not totally sure what we were doing, but doing our best to get off to a good start. Now he’s a chatty, confident and active boy, who loves playing with other children his own age (or older, or sometimes his little brother, if in a good mood). He’s absolutely loved preschool this week, just as he did for his settling sessions – the staff were amazed at how happy and confident he was from the word go.

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We started looking at preschools not long after we moved to Coventry where we would live ‘temporarily’ for 7 months before moving into our new home in Birmingham. I started with Google, having no clue about preschools in the area, and wrote down about 5 that were nearest to where we intended to live. I had a look at their websites, and emailed about visiting. The two places that got back to me within the day were the two nurseries run as part of the University of Birmingham, and that’s Tom’s employer too. I arranged visits on days that I knew Granny could help out, so she could look after Joel while Andrew and I looked around. I also heard back from one other preschool by email a day or two later – that was the local ‘nursery school’ – so I arranged a visit there too.

When we looked around at each preschool, they all came across as quite different from each other. The two university ones were daycare nurseries that had different rooms for different ages, from babies to pre-schoolers; both had a room just for 3 and 4 year olds. The nursery school was essentially a school year below reception, so only taking children for the academic year before they would go to school, which is this September for Andrew.

The main thing that struck me about our visits to all three was the amount that the members of staff talked to me versus how much they talked to Andrew and down at his level. At the school, the head teacher showed us around, and basically only talked to me. The children were all wearing uniform, and the rooms were laid out very much like classrooms – it looked and felt like a school with 3-4 year olds there. Sure it looked like a fun school, but school nonetheless. Andrew stayed with me for most of the visit, except when he saw a rocket painted on the playground and went off to count the numbers on it.

The main campus university nursery was different. The deputy manager talked quite a bit to Andrew, but was still mainly talking to me as she showed us around. She was very keen to point out all the different facilities they had, how they monitored children’s progress, and the systems and policies that they had in place for various aspects of the nursery. It too looked fun, and definitely less ‘school-like’ than the nursery school. Andrew went off to play with some other children in one of the rooms, and otherwise stayed with me.

The smaller campus university nursery was even more different. The deputy manager showing us around talked in equal measure to me and Andrew, bending down to talk to him on his level. The building didn’t look as fancy as the other two, but it was still bright and cheery inside and definitely not like a school – there were far more toys and fewer tables and chairs. Pretty much as soon as we walked in, Andrew was off playing with other children and exploring what was on offer with no hesitation. I had the full tour with our guide, but he was free to do as he pleased and join in with the day’s activities. In fact at the end it was hard to drag him away. I knew there and then that this was where I wanted him to go, where I thought would be best for him.

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It may not have been the one with the ‘outstanding’ Ofsted report, or the lovely old building, or the biggest number of educational ‘gadgets’, or the most recent decoration, but it was the one where Andrew clearly felt immediately at home and able to leave my side. For us it is important that he goes somewhere with an emphasis on play and not on formal education. Of course they all follow the EYFS, but how they interpret that in their style of ‘teaching’ versus ‘play’ seemed quite different from what we saw. And we made a positive decision to go for the most play-based one.

In this country we already start formal education much earlier than in other countries in western Europe, and there is good evidence that starting school as early as 4 years old does not make kids cleverer, in fact it could result in poorer academic performance (a brief summary of this evidence by an academic at a reputable university – I used to work in his faculty too 😉 – can be found here

Andrew seems to be doing well in his learning already, even without having gone to any nursery until now. He picks things up from us and from his play. He likes letters and numbers, and is starting to read and write basic words. He asks how things work, and why things happen. He likes to look at maps and books with both fictional stories and factual writing in. This has just happened over time, we haven’t forced it on him, but have been lead by his keenness to learn from everyday life. So we don’t see why being in a school-like environment would change this for the better.

If there’s no need for a change in environment to make him learn more, why go to preschool at all? Well he’s going mainly because he loves being around other children his age – he’s much happier at the park, for example, if there are others his age to play with rather than just little brother. As we haven’t built up a network of friends here in Birmingham yet, nursery is a great way for him to start building these friendships, some of which may continue into school age. It gives him some time completely separate from little brother, and I get to spend time one-to-one with Joel, just like I did with Andrew before he was born. It also gives me chance to work more, and get things done while Joel is napping that would bore Andrew. I’m sure we will continue to do lots of learning together in our everyday lives outside of the 15 hours that he goes to preschool in the week, and I fully accept that as a parent this is my role; I don’t want to palm off all learning to the teachers in the formal education setting – they already have far too much to deal with in large classes.

I’ve written this account of my thoughts towards preschool partly for us, to have a record to look back on of why we chose the nursery that we did and why it was important to us, and partly to share our experience, for anyone else who might be considering nurseries and preschools and would like to read our perspective, though I know all children are different and what suits one may not suit another. I hope it has been useful if that’s the case for you.

Fighting arrows – wot so funee?

A while ago in a wot so funee? post I shared how Andrew kept going on about “fighting arrows at Grandma and Pop’s house”. I had no idea what he was talking about, until one day we were in the 99p shop with Granny, who had said that each boy could have £1 to choose a toy to buy. Andrew’s eye was obviously drawn to a toy darts set (the kind with velcro on the end of the darts that sticks to the fuzzy dart board). He suddenly shouted: “Look it’s fighting arrows!”, so Granny and I asked him what it was that he was calling fighting arrows and he picked up this darts set. Mystery solved! Apparently Grandma and Pop’s shed had one of these in, among all the toys that once belonged to Daddy and his siblings. Who knew? Andrew did, with his amazing memory for these things!

When we got home that afternoon, all he wanted to do was play with his fighting arrows set. (Which, by the way, I think he has named it because of Disney’s Robin Hood that he’s been watching recently – darts look a bit like arrows that Robin fights with don’t they?!) Granny was very good and played quite a bit with him, and I had some goes too. Once Joel was awake again he wanted to join in, but Andrew was less keen on that. But by the end of the afternoon, Granny and I were tired and hot and when he asked us for the umpteenth time if we could play fighting arrows, our response was that we didn’t have any energy left. So when Grandad walked through the door, this is what he was greeted with: “Grandad, Have you got some energy to do fighting arrows with me?”

And the next day we got another fighting arrows related funee…. When he was talking to Granny and Grandad about his fighting arrows, he decided that he’d bought the set in the “99 pounds shop”. It was worth 99p for the entertainment it’s provided, but probably not £99. I think that’s as far as I can string out the fighting arrows funees for this week.

About this time last year, I blogged about our short break in Germany for my birthday. One of the funees that happened whilst we were there was when Andrew thought that my friend’s house there was ‘Germany’. He couldn’t get the concept of a country and that the whole place was Germany, not just that one house, because that was, after all, where we were visiting. He’s done a similar thing recently with a swimming pool that we’ve been going to. We’ve spoken about going to Leamington to swim as that’s where we’ve been going on Thursdays if Granny is off work – Newbold Comyn swimming pool. Recently I picked up a leaflet for summer activities in Warwickshire, and he was looking through it and saw a picture of Newbold Comyn pool. He immediately recognised it and exclaimed: “That’s Leamington!” Clearly to him the pool is Leamington.

Here are a couple of foodie funees from recently. We’d bought two of those tubs of mini cakes (brownies/gingerbread men/cornflake cakes etc.) that are always on some 2 for £X offer in most supermarkets. When it came to pudding time after tea I said that the boys could have one or two of these mini bites once they’d finished their fruit. Andrew asked if he could have some “fat jacks”. I guess flapjacks could make you fat if you eat too many of them.

Another night for pudding, Granny said that there was some custard left over from when we’d had apple crumble at the weekend, so we could chop some banana into it for the boys to make banana custard (my idea of dessert hell!) That was met with great pleasure, so Granny went in to the kitchen to bring it out. When she was gone Andrew said how much he was looking forward to his “banana mustard”. Even worse than my idea of dessert hell!

English can be confusing with all its homonyms. As Andrew discovered again when he was watching some Commonwealth Games swimming with Granny one evening this week. There was a Welsh swimmer in the pool, and Granny said she was cheering her on because she was the only Brit in the pool at the time. She said to Andrew that he could cheer ‘Come on Wales!’ if he wanted to. After looking slightly confused he carried on watching and a little later came out with: “I might see a whale in there in a minute!” Water, whales, Wales: all a bit confusing for a 3 year old!

Andrew is very good at coming up with names for things based on what they do or look like. One recently that made me laugh was his name for the gardeners who come and mow Granny and Grandad’s lawn every coupe of weeks. He looked out just after they had finished and squealed with delight: “Look! The lawn mowers have been, and now they’re finished so I can go outside again!” He was definitely referring to the people (a Dad and daughter team) because they only actually have one mower between them.

Wot So Funee?

Book bed – wot so funee?

I’m sure there must have been more funees this week, but with everything going on with the new house and my business seems to be booming, I’m surprised I’ve had enough time to jot down any of them at all!

For some reason, Andrew has been going on about playing with “fighting arrows” at Grandma and Pop’s house. I have no idea where this has come from. From what I’ve managed to get out of him, the “fighting arrows” are basically Robin Hood style arrows, as in bow and arrow arrows, probably because Granny bought the Disney’s Robin Hood DVD and he’s watched it a couple of times. I don’t think we played with them at Grandma and Pop’s house last time we went (which would have been Christmas, it’s a long way away), but maybe he remembers something that my adult brain doesn’t?

Every 2 weeks, there are a pair of gardeners that come and do the garden at Granny and Grandad’s house – they mow the lawn and generally tidy it up. Normally they come around lunchtime, but last week they came a bit later and the 2 of us were sitting resting in front of a DVD whilst Joel was napping. Andrew saw their van out on the drive as he went to fetch a toy from the dining room at the front. He came back in and said excitedly: “The gardeners are in the car park of the house!” I guess that’s what it is really – there are 3 cars there at the moment, which is quite a lot for one house.

Another day, we were playing out in the garden after Joel’s nap, as we do most days at the moment. There is a small wooden hut beneath the branches of the magnolia tree which used to be used by our dog as a kennel when she was alive, but now it’s used as a toy storage hut. Andrew was standing inside it, at the door, peering out across the lawn at Joel and me. He was grinning, and suddenly shouted out: “It’s alright Joel, you can come in, there’s no fire alarm!” I thought we hadn’t had many fire alarm references recently – about a year ago all the wot so funee? posts I wrote contained a fire alarm reference!

Then there was a conversation that Andrew and I had one day about the new house, which is finally looking promising for us to move in at the end of this month. It went like this…

A: When we live in our new house, I want a book bed!

Me: What’s a book bed?

A: It’s a sort of double bed with ladders, I go on top and Joel goes on the bottom.

Me: Ah brilliant, a BUNK bed I think you mean!

A: Yes that’s right, a bunk bed please [cheeky grin].

I don’t think it’d be wise to have a bunk bed just yet, but if they still want one once Joel is in a bed and not his cot, then we can think about it. Daddy says there are pros and cons to sharing a bunk bed with your brother.

Wot So Funee?

Rocket shower – wot so funee?

Even though Andrew is old enough to go to preschool (he qualified for the 15 hours funding at Easter, the term after his 3rd birthday in January), he won’t start at one until September because we are still in the middle of moving and won’t be in our permanent home until the summer. I must write a post on our choice of preschool soon, I keep meaning to. But I digress. So I tend to call him a toddler still, even though I know he’s really a ‘preschooler’. Andrew himself is also keen to point this out, and insists that he’s a “toggler”. ‘D’ sounds in the middle of words aren’t his strong point, though he can do it if he tries.

He’s keen to learn, and is doing well with numbers and letters. If he’s in the right mood, he’ll ask me to speak in French or German with him (if he’s not in the mood, he covers his ears if I try to speak them with him!), so I take the opportunities when he asks, which have been quite frequent recently. The other day we were listening to a German CD of songs in the car as we often do, and suddenly he came out with: “When I’m older and I can speak German, I’m going to teach Daddy how to speak German too!” I told Daddy this, and he was happy with that being as he’s forgotten most of the GCSE German that he did.

For a couple of weeks now Andrew has been saying the word “chameleon” at weird times, seemingly randomly inserting it into sentences when it doesn’t make sense. I’ve tried to ask him what he means and prise out of him what ‘chameleon’ means to him. But I was unsuccessful. Then Granny experienced the same thing with him one day, and figured it out: they were looking at a book and there was a tall thing, a little thing, and something in the middle – it was “chameleon”, or ‘medium’. Aha!

We’ve also been talking about hot and cold recently – the sun is hot, the weather is warm, and the water in the paddling pool is cold when it first goes in or it’s “just the right pretenture” when it’s been sitting in the sun a while and has warmed up to luke warm.

A game that the boys have recently got into is pretending that the shower cubicle in the bathroom is a rocket. I can kind of see the similarity – it’s tall and cylindrical. Andrew closes the doors, narrating what he’s doing, and counts down to blast off. Then they go to wherever it is that they’re heading and enjoy their space flight. (I say ‘they’, I don’t think Joel really quite understands what he’s doing, but he thinks it’s funny nonetheless.) The other day I asked him where they were going in their rocket. His answer was this: “I’m going to ‘costamel’ and Joel is going to church, it’s 9 miles away”. I thought I hadn’t heard the ‘costamel’ bit right, so asked him again where just he was going, and he said it again. So I asked what this ‘costamel’ was, and his reply was (rather predictably) “it’s costamel Mummy”, said in a ‘why, don’t you know where that is Mummy?!’ I asked if he meant hospital? No, not hospital. Costa?! Nope not Costa either. This will remain a mystery until someone has a ‘chameleon’ Eureka moment with it at a later date.

The last funee for this week is more of a cutie. We spent the morning at the park on Monday. It was a lovely day. When we got there, it was only us there, but within 15 minutes or so, another 2 girls with their mummies turned up – they were a similar age to Andrew, who these days likes parks even more if there are other kids his age to play with. He immediately went over to them at the large tyre swing that they were climbing onto. They all had fun on that for 5 minutes, with one of the girls’ mummies pushing them while I ran around after Joel on the rest of the playground. Then Andrew proceeded to follow them around for the rest of the time we were there. He got on particularly well with one of the girls, called Bella – he found this out by asking her name and age (and other details) as he usually does to random strangers. We all had to leave at the same time in the end and we said goodbye. Later when Daddy came home and asked what we’d done, Andrew was quick to tell him: “I went to the park and met a girl called Bella, and another one but I don’t know her name.” This is particularly cute because his usual reply when Daddy, Granny or Grandad ask what we’ve done in the day is “I don’t know” in an uninterested manner. She clearly made a lasting impression on him 🙂

Wot So Funee?

Breastfeeding toddlers & beyond: not as weird as you might think – #KBBF2014

The theme for today in the Keep Britain Breastfeeding Scavenger Hunt is “Breastfeeding Beyond a Year”. I still remember the feeling when Andrew, my eldest son, got to his first birthday and was still breastfeeding. At the time I wrote a blog post on it called the not-so-crazy world of toddler breastfeeding. After all the struggles we’d had in the early weeks and months (as I explained in my last KBBF post, I have IGT – insufficient glandular tissue – so can’t exclusively breastfeed a baby), I could hardly believe that we’d got to 12 weeks let alone 12 months. But he was still keen to feed, or nurse would be a better term as it really wasn’t about the food anymore but about the comfort and routine. And I always said that I wanted him to decide when to wean and it wouldn’t be me who would initiate the weaning process. So we carried on beyond the time that most mums I knew were breastfeeding.

Apart from his lack of interest in weaning, there are other good reasons to have carried on nursing a toddler (and now preschooler). I think that it’s helped in the fact that he’s still hardly ever been ill. Nursing has been fundamental in his daily bedtime routine for a long time, along with a bath and reading books. He likes to have that routine and I think it has helped him know that it’s bedtime before he could understand properly what was going on. Nursing has also helped when he’s been upset or tired over the years, to calm him down, though these days he only really has some milk before bed.


When Andrew was around 13 months old, I found I was pregnant again. This brought with it all sorts of thoughts and feelings about breastfeeding, for example: I had bad vomiting and nausea throughout the pregnancy and wondered if I had the energy to carry on and how I should initiative weaning in that case; I wondered if Andrew would self-wean anyway, as many do during the pregnancy of a sibling; I wondered if/how it would work out with tandem nursing if he did want to carry on. I wrote about these thoughts at various times in my weekly pregnancy diary blog posts, such as this one.

Well we both made it with the breastfeeding through pregnancy thing, and when Joel was born, we became a tandem nursing family. I had lots of support from my local LLL group, and one leader in particular had gone out of her way to help put me in contact with another LLL leader from elsewhere in the country who had tandem nursed with IGT. She made the good point that the toddler is an excellent breast pump substitute in terms of giving the breasts extra stimulation after the newborn feeds (of course you can’t get the milk back from the toddler though, like you can from a bottle of pumped milk, and give it to the baby, but I never got much from a pump anyway.)

As Andrew was basically down to just having one feed before bedtime, I made sure that Joel had had good feeds himself up to that point, and then he had time with Daddy whilst Andrew and I had milk time. He probably was getting very little actual milk by that point in the day, but as he’d nursed through pregnancy, when milk supply drops naturally even in mums without IGT, he was used to that. He just liked the time with me, and I think the tandem nursing helped him accept Joel into the family, although he was young enough to not really care that much anyway. Sometimes Andrew would ask for milk while I was sitting feeding Joel in the day – an increased interest in nursing can happen with older siblings, even if already weaned, so he wasn’t unusual in this, and would usually be happy with a few sucks from the other side, just to mark his ground more than anything I think. There weren’t many times that I would actually have one feeding from each side at the same time – tandem nursing refers to breastfeeding 2 (or more) children in the same time period, not necessarily precisely simultaneously.

Joel seemed to get more breast milk than Andrew did at the same age – I could tell partly from the fact that he needed less formula supplementation and partly because his poos looked so much more breastfed than Andrew’s ever did pre-solids! Many mums, with and without IGT, report increased milk supply with subsequent children. So even if Andrew was taking a little of the shared supply when Joel was a baby, I was happy that over the span of their nursing years, they were getting their own fair share.

Before I knew it, we somehow managed to get to a whole year of tandem nursing; it dawned on me that I was tandem nursing 2 toddlers, and nowadays a toddler and a preschooler.  Neither of them nurse for very long these days, but both of them still enjoy Mummy milk before bed. I think Andrew is slowly on the stopping straight because he doesn’t ask for it every day now, but I’ve heard that this is how self-weaning at this age can happen – a slow process that you look back on and can’t pin point an exact time that they stopped, the breastfeeds just go down from once a day to once a week to once a month etc. We often joke that at this rate, Joel will stop before Andrew, because he’s probably less interested in it than Andrew was at this age, but who knows! (Only they know.)

I look back now and can’t quite believe that I’m sitting here writing this, given our shaky start in the world of breastfeeding. But I’m glad that we persevered through the hard times to get to this point. When I think about how much breast milk that my boys have had over their nursing lives, it’s probably similar to how much some babies had who were exclusively breastfed for the 6 months that is seen as the ‘standard’ amount of time to breastfeed for. Some people may think that breastfeeding or nursing toddlers is weird, and pre-schoolers even weirder, but it works for us and I’m happy to carry on for as long as they require, which may turn out to be not much longer.

Others who are writing about breastfeeding beyond a year today include….. (please go and visit their blogs too).

Sorry about the mess

Circus Queen

Hex Mum

My thoughts on things

Baking Betsy

And another WAHM like myself taking part in the hunt is

Cherub Chews

a Rafflecopter giveaway

When I’m 4 I might listen – wot so funee?

At the end of last week’s wot so funee? post I wrote about the evening that some friends came for a barbecue. Andrew got to play with the little girl of the family, who is a year older than him, and really enjoyed having an older play mate rather than his younger brother for a while. The following day he asked where she was, and I said that she’d had to go home. He asked where she lived, and I had to explain that she was currently staying in Cambridge, but that she actually lives a long way away in Australia. Later that day he mentioned her again, and told me: “Rosie lives in Our Stralia”… so I explained again that it was a long way away, the same place that Granny and Grandad visited a little while ago and we found them on the world map on the computer, but I’m not sure he’d remembered that.

With this continued warm weather, Andrew has been keen to hand out ice creams in the garden (shuttlecocks with various colours of soft play balls on top for the different flavours). He’s still not quite mastered how to say vanilla – we’ve had “manilla” and “vermilla” quite a bit – but this week we also had “Brum-illa” too. I think all this talk of moving to Birmingham has gone to his head.

I also think that all this warm weather had got to his head when he was pretending to catch a train and exclaimed: “I’m going to get on the plat-warm” He knows it’s a platform, we’ve read goodness knows how many Thomas books and seen the DVDs, and recently been on the train ourselves a few times, so I put it down to a heat-related slip of the tongue.

Another bonus of sunny weather is that it creates shadows. Andrew is very interested in shade and shadow, and we’ve had a few conversations about what it is and why we get shade and shadows. He’s keen to point out his own shadow when he sees it, and one day in the garden this week, he suddenly came out with: “I think Mr Pigeon is getting a shadow” when pointing at a rather fat pigeon who was pecking at the seeds on the ground.

We’ve had the paddling pool out permanently since the end of last week, and both boys love splashing about in it, and chasing me around the garden wielding pots full of water, then throwing them at me (not actually getting me very wet because most of the water has escaped by then with all their running!) This has temporarily silenced Andrew’s plea to go to the “gym swim” with Granny and Grandad. They once or twice took the boys to the swimming pool at the gym where they are members when we were house hunting at the start of the year, and for some reason Andrew suddenly remembered this the other day and hasn’t stopped going on about the fact that he’d like to go again. We’ve told him that they will take them again one day, but so far this hasn’t happened and he is still keen. Apparently, “Joel is desperate to go to the gym swim”, and Daddy was told one morning when he went into the boys’ room to get them up that “I was just telling Joel that we can’t go to the gym swim today, but maybe ‘nother day.” I’m sure when we’re over at the new house one weekend, Granny and Grandad will take them, but whether Andrew’s patience will be up by then is another matter.

And finally, a classic threenager conversation between Andrew and me when I was trying to get him to put his clothes on so we could go out (he seems to think that clothes aren’t necessary for public outings incidentally).

Me: Andrew, please can you put your pants on!! (for about the bazillionth time!)

Andrew: [carries on playing with rocket]

Me: [at the end of my patience] Andrew, will you listen to me?!

Andrew: When I’m 4 I might listen. And then I won’t be stressing.

That told me! I’ll look forward to his 4th birthday then, maybe it won’t take us hours to get out the door in the morning as I won’t have to chase around after him with a pair of pants! I won’t get my hopes up though, he only said *might* 😉

Wot So Funee?

The lion guinea pig – wot so funee?

I know there was a series of wot so funee? posts that I wrote a while back which were always mentioning Thunderbirds. Well Andrew is still very into Thunderbirds and playing with his Tracey Island and Thunderbird toy rockets etc., but he’s expanded his repertoire to other Gerry Anderson puppet series. His favourite one to talk about at the moment is Joe 90, which I don’t think so many people have heard of. That is my impression at least when Andrew starts jabbering on to random strangers (admittedly other parents at groups and activities that we do) about his knowledge of Joe 90. They usually smile and nod and say the usual ‘oh right, that’s good’ kind of phrases that we parents do when we can’t understand another child. I think his speech itself is clear, but they don’t always understand who Joe 90 is or why Andrew is talking to them out of the blue about him. It’s quite hilarious seeing him do this to unsuspecting people who don’t know how to react. He’ll talk to anyone and everyone, no hesitation.

It’s not just strangers who get bombarded with an earful of jabbering from our little chatterbox. Grandad took him in the car on Sunday, just the 2 of them, to pick up Great Grandma. He didn’t stop chattering the whole time in the car apparently, and of course insisted that they listened to Joe 90 on the CD player, on repeat, several times! Still, I can’t feel too sorry for Grandad – it’s his fault that Andrew is obsessed with Gerry Anderson puppetry.

Now that Andrew himself is well and truly toilet trained in the daytime, he finds it funny when Joel has a dirty nappy. He’s particularly vocal about describing the mess when he sees it. I’m usually too busy trying to pin Joel down to clear him up before he runs off and gets it everywhere to really take much notice of how Andrew is reacting, but I managed to note down a classic that came out when Daddy was around too: “It’s a disgusting spready weddy poo!” A toddler technical term there. I also liked how he described one of Joel’s nappies as a “displosion” the other day. It was certainly an epic explosion, so maybe a “displosion” is one step up on the scale of explosiveness?!

Moving on from poo (you know you’re a parent of young kids when you can write so glibly about poo), Andrew is still keen to make up his own verbs from nouns that he knows. He’s been doing this for quite a while now, and at the weekend he was on top form in the garden with various sports. He told Daddy to “just golf it!”, when he was trying to get him to hit the golf ball with the club (all plastic). And recently I’ve heard him talking about “tennis-ing the ball” – i.e. hitting a ball with a bat.

We know that Andrew is very good at milking sympathy when something is up. But just recently he’s been stepping this up a little too far in my opinion. A few times now he has been loudly in tears for some reason or another, maybe he’d hurt himself slightly or got annoyed about some (seemingly insignificant) occurrence, and then he has rapidly turned off the water works and stated quite openly “I’ve finished now” and got on happily with something else. Leaving me open mouthed at what he’d just done.

And finally for this week, an insight into his imagination as a 3 year old. We have a red cuddly toy in the car at the moment, which Granny kindly gave us from their car one day when the boys weren’t happy about getting in (it was after our recent beach trip and to be fair I’d have rather stayed longer too but we knew we had a long drive home). I think it was supposed to be a dinosaur for Comic Relief, as it roars when you squeeze it. One day this week, Andrew held it up when he was getting into his car seat and declared that “this is like a lion guinea pig!” I can kind of see where he’s coming from, but it did make me laugh out loud. What do you think?

Lion guinea pig


Wot So Funee?

Row, row, row your plane/fire engine/motorbike – wot so funee?

I’m a bit behind this week with blogging. With being away for the weekend and then the bank holiday, plus lots of orders and a craft fair keeping me busy sewing, I’ve not had much time to blog! But here are a few classic comedy moments from this past week…

We’ve been talking about moving house for quite a while. We have a house lined up, we just haven’t got the keys yet and we can’t move in until it’s decorated too, so for now we’re still living with Granny and Grandad who are very kindly not kicking us out. But I think Andrew is starting to wonder whether we’ll ever move out into our new house. As he, Daddy and Joel were walking down the road to the park the other day, he gave an insight into what’s going on in his mind on this matter. About 5 minutes walk from Granny and Grandad’s house is a house that is currently undergoing a big extension on the side. We’ve walked past it several times before, but on this occasion on their way to the park, Andrew stated: “When our new house is finished, we will live here!” I know we said we’d live nearer to Granny and Grandad, but we were thinking 25 miles rather than 250 metres.

When we do move house, I don’t think our post lady will mind as she will have fewer parcels to deliver on her rounds (I get quite a few small parcels delivered for the business) and she won’t get greeted by a naked 3 year old when I open our door. Most days we’re in when she delivers as it’s not normally until around 2pm that she turns up and usually Joel is napping then. But we did miss a parcel last week when we stayed out until after lunch, so the following day we drove to the delivery office to collect it. I think it blew Andrew’s mind when he saw how many post vans were parked outside the office (to be fair, there were probably around 30!): “Wow! There’s lots of postman pats here!!”

Another chirp from the back of the car came when we stopped to fill up with petrol at the weekend on our long journey. Daddy got out to do the filling up, and Andrew shouted across to him from his car seat: “How many petrols are you getting Daddy?” I’m not entirely sure how many litres our car takes, but I know it costs a fair amount to fill up these days, so I just said to Andrew that we needed a lot of petrol.

Cars are just one of Andrew’s favourite vehicles. He’s interested in anything with wheels really. One day this week I found he’d emptied a basket underneath his bed where we store his underwear and was sitting in it pretending it was a plane, holding out his arms for the wings. I laughed, and said maybe we could pretend it was a boat and sing ‘row, row, row your boat’. He wasn’t too impressed with this and shouted: “No! I want to do row, row, row your plane!” I laughed even more at that and said I didn’t think planes could be rowed. He pondered for a moment, then came out with: “How about row, row, row your fire engine then?…..Or row, row, row your motorbike?” By this point he was laughing whilst talking too, so we both ended up in fits of laughter together.

row your plane

Green fingered Andrew has been helping Granny with seed planting and care in her vegetable garden this year. One of the tasks is of course watering them (though this week they really don’t need it with all the rain, not that that stops Joel trying to ‘water’ them some more – i.e. tipping whole pots of water onto the soil). One sunnier day last week, Grany said to Andrew that the plants were thirsty and needed something to drink. He looked a bit puzzled and then exclaimed: “But plants don’t have mouths!” Fair enough, they don’t, and it’s a bit of a far-out concept to him to imagine how plants drink when they don’t have a mouth like he does.

That’s it for this week, but I’m sure we’ll be back with more hilarity next week 🙂

Wot So Funee?