Monday, 21 November 2011

On Freedom & Lack of Plastic-Horse Related Injuries.

This week, Daughter is staying with my parents as we prepare for the supposedly imminent arrival of TBC & so we haven't seen her in over a week & if TBC doesn't [bloody well] get here soon then we shan't see her until Thursday at the earliest. At first the idea of peace, quiet & lay-ins was a blissful dream & I was relishing the time alone & the freedom to go wherever I pleased at whatever hour I wished, however after a few wonderful days of doing things like meeting a friend in pub, yes, a pub, & having a pint - a real sodding PINT! - with her & wandering as I pleased around trendy shops with no cries of "I neeeed a weeeee!" or "I'm hun-greeeeeeeee!" the novelty has worn off & as much as it pains me to admit it, I would rather have her here, whinging & all, than all this bloody peace & quiet. So I thought I'd share with you a few things that Daughter likes to say or do that usually drive me crackers, but that I inexplicably miss about her when she's not here.

When I try to take a photo of how beautiful, sweet & charming she looks, a little like this...

...but because she is such a big fidget, you end up spending about 3 hours & taking several billion photos like this beforehand...

...& yes, that is a donkey she is licking.

When we are in a public place & she says (at the top of her voice) things such as:

"Oh, Mummy, look at that man, he has a big, round, fat tummy! Like you!"

"No, Mummy, that's not a lady it's a man."
"Well, honestly, I just want to pick my bottom."

"Was that you pumping Mummy?" - please note, likely honest answer is no however I've found disputing this point can often lead to prolonged conversation regarding pumping, at increased volumes.

The lack of housework there is to do. I know that as soon as she returns I'll retract this as a woe, but honestly, being around the house is so frigging boring. I feel as though I can keep the house tidy & have no excuse for not. At least when she's here if I can't be arsed to wash up I can blame having too much on to not do it & instead make a den out of a cardboard box or have a tickle fight. Now I have no excuse! It is nice not to nearly break my neck falling over train sets or standing on viciously shaped plastic animals, though.

As much as I love silence, sometimes a nonsense conversation is wonderfully amusing. Now I have to be a grown up & do paperwork & things. I haven't been listening to Radio 4 at all as there is no need to balance out the 3 year-old-ness with vaguely informative & adult chatter.

I miss her charm & her beautiful smile & the feeling of warmth I get when, after a day of complete horror, stubborness & avoidable tantrums (mainly mine, to be fair), she gives me a hug & a kiss & tells me she loves me & I melt.

I miss my Girly. Hurry up Baby.


  1. I just love this especially number 5

  2. Funny isn't it, how we long for a bit of peace and quiet, and then when we get it, it's too much! It's either all or nothing for the next 15 years at least. Love number 5 too. Polly x


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