Someone's been using my camera again........

......funny the photos you find on your camera when you've left if within easy reach for a few minutes!

Overheard.......

Conversations overheard between Miss A and one of her friends at nursery:

J: My daddy's losing his hair......
A: That's ok, my daddy's got no hair at all, he's BALD!

J: My mummy and daddy don't love each other any more, that's why daddy has his house and mummy has her house
A: My mummy and daddy love each other, and they got married, but they got married BEFORE I was born!

From the mouths of babes......!

Little Bruiser

what happens when you go too fast up the pavement on your scooter? You fall off and whack your cheek on the metal pole beneath the handlebars! Not sure if you can see the bruise, but it's there - and makes her look like she's been a fight with the local thugs........

Musical beds

Forget about musical chairs or musical statues - we have a much better game in this house: musical beds!

Miss A has three beds to choose from: her own bed, the one in the spare room (also known as Grandma and Grandad's bed, as that is where my parents sleep when they come to visit) and, of course, our bed....

Since we turned her cot into a bed last October, I reckon Miss A has probably slept a total of 10 nights in her bed. She generally prefers to sleep in the spare bed - and much as I know I shouldn't be encouraging it, she does look adorable in it. Lately, however, it's been a different story....whether it's linked to my not collecting her from school or some of the other fairly large changes that have happened recently (she's moved into the 'top' class at nursery and has started following a 'proper' curriculum with reading books and homework - a whole different kettle of fish), she doesn't want to be left alone at night. Bedtimes have turned into a battlefield of negotation and cajoling - exhausting.

Anyway, last night Miss A declares she doesn't want to wear a nappy to bed. "Ok", I think to myself, "we've prepared for this - there are mattress protectors on both her and the spare beds, we have plenty of spare linen and it's Saturday night, so I won't mind having to change the sheets in the morning. " So she gets all installed in the spare bed, and Mr A and I go down to enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet.

Lo and behold, when I go to bed a few hours later, I find her in OUR bed (i.e. the only one that doesn't have a protector) absolutely soaking wet.....so there I am, at quarter to midnight, having to strip / shower / change a sleeping child and changing a super-king size bed.......

Oh, this parenting lark is so much fun sometimes.......

Tugging at the heartstrings....

....exactly how can you be expected to start the day on the right footing when you leave the house to the sound of your daughter crying her heart out because she doesn't want you to go to work?

I won't even get into the subject of 'are you picking me up today, Mummy?' (the answer, nine times out of ten, is no........). Nor will I mention the total hysterical meltdown that occurred when Granny took her to her first French class (no, she won't be going back - have realised that too much can be just too much at that age).

Why didn't anyone tell me how hard this 'working Mummy' lark would be?

Oh, and can anyone tell me how to get rid of the stain produced by a Fruit Pastille ice lolly (it would be on her new dress, wouldn't it?)