Saturday, 12 October 2013

Family Jewels

Well this week is much like last week...the learning just keeps on keeping on..
I suppose most of the ground work has happened. Little person gets up about 06.30, enjoys a really good dump then takes a light breakfast of Actimil followed by porridge and then fruit of the day. A period of frantic play ensues leading to a 'Nana Nap'. This is pretty much repeated throughout the day until its rubber time and a wee rub down with a damp chamois and then into the arms of sweet Morphious.

Despite this relatively organized and tranquil lifestyle the same small person finds the time to rain terror and chaos on the other, not so little inhabitants of the household causing every room (save for her own, I might add) to be rendered to a state of complete disarray. Child friendly toys become obstacles for adults and dogs to negotiate. Why are these weapons of mass destruction classified as safe for little people? I for one would rather take my chances with unpasteurised blue cheese.

Walking, sorry, hobbling from one end of the living room to the other is fraught with other dangers too.
Child gates (with audible click locks as recommended by a fellow survivor) are poised to castrate as the lock pin is set to scrotum height. Toys with motion sensors that wake up if you are unfortunate enough to brush past as you trip over a play mat or make contact with a singing kettle (the only toy name which actually hints at the dangers therein). It's like living in an oversized game of Operation. Bzzzzzzzz you are now sporting on less toenail. Bzzzzzzzzz you will never play the piano again. Bzzzzzzzz yup there goes the family jewels.

That said, Big people can always get their own back. We are presently capitalizing on a number of items which we lovingly call "baby prison". Ever wondered why Mothercare and Baby R Us are full of fold down travel cots? It's not because parents are happy to lug about 10.5 kg of tubular steel and ripstop nylon. It's not because parents want to exhaust their baggage allowance with Easyjet all in one go. It's not because they have a fear of precious little people finding untold bacterium to secret in untold orifices in the hotel supplied children's cot beds. Lets face it, holidays are a thing of the past anyway unless you are willing to sell a kidney, which I no longer have to spare as I lost it on the baby gate whilst bending down to attempt to retrieve a stray testicle. The REAL reason people buy travel cots is to imprison their small person. Oops, I meant to say keep the little angel safe whilst those charged with their care try to undertake regular tasks like consuming coffee, maintaining personal hygiene and scrapping embedded semi pureed foodstuffs which defy description of the carpet.

We like baby prison. We have a few. A Disney Bouncing one, the travel cot (yeh "travel" ha ain't gonna be going anywhere babe!!) and the vibrating, reclining one favored by the lady of the house (YM). Little person likes the bouncy one. The travel cot isn't without charm either. It's a joy to watch her little face as she hunkers down in the corner with her miniature baseball mitt unsuccessfully playing catch a la Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. I want to say it''s a good skill for her to master but really its one-upmanship and the only way I can kinda get back at LP for rejecting and in many respects ejecting my Haddock Mornay with Crushed New Potatoes....
The moral of the story: Respect the Chef

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