Baby steps
As the nights draw in, I am thinking once again about emigrating to a small cottage up a hill in southern Spain. Of course, this is totally unrealistic as we would not be able to fund said cottage unless we did a Good Life and lived entirely on turnips. It's an idea worth thinking about, though, when all that stretches ahead is heating bills and dark.
Hopefully, one advantage of the darkening nights is that children will be easier to get to bed. Currently they are staying up too late and asking to be cuddled to sleep individually. My master plan is to move the baby into daughter two's room by Christmas, but, considering that he is not even lasting the entire night in his cot at the moment this seems a tad ambitious. Plus he is very small and very cuddly. I fear I would miss him more than he would miss me.
He would probably appear in any event at some ungodly moment of the night and launch himself into the bed. Daughter one rarely did this, but daughter two was big on the dramatic midnight entrance. She would slam open the door and scream "Mummy" really loudly so I jumped out of my skin then proceed to lie with her cheek on top of mine and her legs pointing towards her dad for the rest of the night. Daughter three was still in our bed just before the baby was born and now comes in early in the morning to chat to the baby. He finds her absolutely hilarious. Indeed he has a whale of a time with his sisters. Yesterday we went to the park and he was swinging away with them, chuckling his head off.
Other landmark moments we are anticipating include potty training. I have got the potty out and the baby has shown a cursory interest [he has put the Wii remote in it. This may seem small potatoes to you, dear reader, but the Wii remote for him is the king of the remotes. With that in his hand, he feels like the master of the Universe. Even if it is currently broken]. The baby has started speaking a bit more too. He runs at the kittens with total abandon yelling "dats" while they look aghast and dive for the nearest exit. However, come dinner time they worship at his feet, secure in the knowledge he can't get out of his high chair and that all the contents of his bowl will, in due course, be coming their way.
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