Jasmine and I were playing in the car parked in the driveway on Friday afternoon. She was 'driving' and I was sitting in the back seat 'watching the wiggles'. We had the doors open because it was so hot. After telling me to 'sit nicely' and 'stop crying, mummy' she pressed a few buttons and held onto the steering wheel ready to take me on a 'long drive'.
A fly flew in her open door and started buzzing around the windscreen.
'What's that, mummy?'
"That's a fly, honey. Give it a little shoo and it will fly away again."
Jasmine took off her shoe and passed it over the dashboard to the fly. "Here you go fly."
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Poo tug of war
We have started potty training Jasmine. I went out and bought about 20 cute undies as bribes to get her to use the potty. In reality I've found that the best bribe is ice-blocks! So once we've finished the long process of potty training we will commence the long process of ice-block weaning. :)
The first time we tried to get her to use the potty she sat nicely for about 5 minutes while I read her a book, then she decided to teach teddy how to do a poo on the potty. I thought this was a great idea and encouraged her to show teddy how it was done. She squatted by the potty while she sat teddy down on it and explained "you sit down potty, teddy. Wait, teddy and do little poo poo.". After a few minutes I asked her whether she wanted to have another sit on the potty and I started to help her to stand up only to discover a steaming turd on the floor underneath her!!!
She'd been telling Teddy how to push while she was backing one out!
I was trying so hard not to laugh while I congratulated her on almost doing a poo poo on the potty. But then the clean up operation had to commence, and once Jasmine saw me picking up her poo in some toilet paper she was clearly overwhelmed by a sense of propriety over the poo, and tried to grab it out of my hand to hold it herself. So there's me, with my hand on a hot poo (in toilet paper), the other end held (also in toilet paper, thank god) by my not so predictable 2-year-old who is DESPERATELY trying to pry it out of my hands. It was like a poo-tug-of-war! I was just waiting for one of us to lose our grip and the whole lot to go flying through the air!
Eventually the steaming turd made it to the toilet (in several pieces mind you), and Jasmine had the thrilling responsibility of putting it in the bowl and flushing it down.
To my utter delight she's done two more poos in the potty in the last two days, and today announced it's arrival to me by telling me "it's coming out now".
Jasmine enjoying the fruits of her labour this morning.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Beau's MAXI-SIZED outing
Tim finally convinced me to go shopping at Costco on the weekend. I know you folks back in Canada are big fans, but there are many things about Costco that don't agree with me.
Firstly, I don't like shopping for groceries (now, you'd think that this alone would have been enough reason for me to not go to Costco!). Well, I didn't until I had kids, now a trip to the supermarket without two kids in tow is about the most relaxing experience I have all week. The familiar music, the friendly people who chat to me at the deli counter... I digress... The point is, um, was, that I don't like shopping for groceries.
Secondly, I don't like the whole ethos of the place. It's just more, More, MORE! Bigger packages, more stuff to buy. They say you're getting a bargain, but I think it's a wolf in sheep's clothing. I've compared the price of nappies. I have. And they're not as cheap as you think! And because I'm not a particularly thorough person I'm happy to be convinced that this is a sufficient sample size of product price comparisons to prove that they are MAXI-RIPPING US OFF! One maxi-sized package at a time!
(But I do like their bagels and tomatoes and butter chicken and gypsy ham and salmon, so you can continue to shop there, my lovely husband.)
Before we had even entered the shop my anxiety levels began to rise. We spent 15 minutes driving around the poorly lit car park (which was the only part of the Costco experience that should have been bigger) before we eventually succumbed to the inevitable and stalked a couple from the store exit to their car, then waited another 15 minutes for them to empty the 640 litres of stuff from their trolley into the boot before we could take their spot.
We split on entry. Tim & Jasmine had the grocery round. Beau and I had the Christmas presents assignment. But after about 10 minutes of being bounced around like a pinball between all the bogans pushing their MAXI-SIZED trolleys (I swear they should ask for licences before allowing people to use those things) I detected a whiff of Beau Explosion. Of course, Tim had the nappy bag, and because Costco is roughly the same size as a shopping centre, I had to phone him to arrange a meeting point somewhere near aisle 5,439.
Now, all the crowds, the overwhelming choice and being buffeted by those massive shopping trolleys must have compromised my decision making abilities. Because for some reason that I still cannot explain, I decided to change Beau's Explosion in the middle of the store. And once I had his onesie half off I realised that this was not an ordinary Explosion. In honour of his MAXI-SIZED supermarket visit, Beau had done a MAXI-SIZED shit.
Sloppy, yellow poo had leaked out the top of his nappy, out the sides of his nappy and a fairly good amount had squirted up his back. And right about the time I was beginning to realise the immensity of the clean up operation ahead of me, Beau began waving his arms around and collected a good fistful in each and began smearing it on his head. As if this wasn't enough, the motion of lifting up his legs to pull the nappy out from under him poured more out the back and onto the pram, squelching it around underneath him and pushing it through all the little holes that the straps come through.
Meanwhile about 100 people had passed us, looking over to see what the commotion was about and getting a nosefull of eau du bebe Beau poo. And it was around about then that I started to wonder why I hadn't just walked the 2Km to the store's toilets.
But the best was still to come. With poo on every surface in front of me, and on my hands and forearms, I discovered that I had only two baby wipes. Yep. One. Two. They were enough to temporarily remove the poo from Beau's head, hands and arms. But about 90% of his body was still coated in the stuff. I sent Tim off for reinforcement. At least we were somewhere that I knew had to sell wipes. And of course they did. Only, we had to buy a crate of 12 x 500 wipe packets. Which is probably just as well, because I needed about half of them just clean up the current mess.
So even if we did save some money at Costco this weekend, I think my therapy bill will more than offset our savings.
Firstly, I don't like shopping for groceries (now, you'd think that this alone would have been enough reason for me to not go to Costco!). Well, I didn't until I had kids, now a trip to the supermarket without two kids in tow is about the most relaxing experience I have all week. The familiar music, the friendly people who chat to me at the deli counter... I digress... The point is, um, was, that I don't like shopping for groceries.
Secondly, I don't like the whole ethos of the place. It's just more, More, MORE! Bigger packages, more stuff to buy. They say you're getting a bargain, but I think it's a wolf in sheep's clothing. I've compared the price of nappies. I have. And they're not as cheap as you think! And because I'm not a particularly thorough person I'm happy to be convinced that this is a sufficient sample size of product price comparisons to prove that they are MAXI-RIPPING US OFF! One maxi-sized package at a time!
(But I do like their bagels and tomatoes and butter chicken and gypsy ham and salmon, so you can continue to shop there, my lovely husband.)
Before we had even entered the shop my anxiety levels began to rise. We spent 15 minutes driving around the poorly lit car park (which was the only part of the Costco experience that should have been bigger) before we eventually succumbed to the inevitable and stalked a couple from the store exit to their car, then waited another 15 minutes for them to empty the 640 litres of stuff from their trolley into the boot before we could take their spot.
We split on entry. Tim & Jasmine had the grocery round. Beau and I had the Christmas presents assignment. But after about 10 minutes of being bounced around like a pinball between all the bogans pushing their MAXI-SIZED trolleys (I swear they should ask for licences before allowing people to use those things) I detected a whiff of Beau Explosion. Of course, Tim had the nappy bag, and because Costco is roughly the same size as a shopping centre, I had to phone him to arrange a meeting point somewhere near aisle 5,439.
Now, all the crowds, the overwhelming choice and being buffeted by those massive shopping trolleys must have compromised my decision making abilities. Because for some reason that I still cannot explain, I decided to change Beau's Explosion in the middle of the store. And once I had his onesie half off I realised that this was not an ordinary Explosion. In honour of his MAXI-SIZED supermarket visit, Beau had done a MAXI-SIZED shit.
Sloppy, yellow poo had leaked out the top of his nappy, out the sides of his nappy and a fairly good amount had squirted up his back. And right about the time I was beginning to realise the immensity of the clean up operation ahead of me, Beau began waving his arms around and collected a good fistful in each and began smearing it on his head. As if this wasn't enough, the motion of lifting up his legs to pull the nappy out from under him poured more out the back and onto the pram, squelching it around underneath him and pushing it through all the little holes that the straps come through.
Meanwhile about 100 people had passed us, looking over to see what the commotion was about and getting a nosefull of eau du bebe Beau poo. And it was around about then that I started to wonder why I hadn't just walked the 2Km to the store's toilets.
But the best was still to come. With poo on every surface in front of me, and on my hands and forearms, I discovered that I had only two baby wipes. Yep. One. Two. They were enough to temporarily remove the poo from Beau's head, hands and arms. But about 90% of his body was still coated in the stuff. I sent Tim off for reinforcement. At least we were somewhere that I knew had to sell wipes. And of course they did. Only, we had to buy a crate of 12 x 500 wipe packets. Which is probably just as well, because I needed about half of them just clean up the current mess.
So even if we did save some money at Costco this weekend, I think my therapy bill will more than offset our savings.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
There were two in the bed
When Jasmine woke up from her nap yesterday I went in to get her with Beau in my arms. She said "Beau get in?" and patted the space on the pillow next to her. So I popped him in, and got out the camera:
There were two in the bed and the biggest one said... GET OUT OF MY BED NOW, BUSTER!
There were two in the bed and the biggest one said... GET OUT OF MY BED NOW, BUSTER!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Beau's big week
In the last 10 days Beau has:
- turned 6 months old
- rolled from his back to his front
- rolled from his front to his back
- finally swallowed some solids (after 2 months of concerted effort)
- sprouted his first tooth!
I'm thrilled for him, but also a little sad that he's growing up so fast. He's done it all in typical Beau style - smiling, laughing, gurgling and generally enjoying himself throughout.
Here are some recent photos of the littlest Lawrence.
Lock up your locks
You know how sometimes you don't notice something is needing attention until someone else points it out to you? Like a big chunk of spinach stuck between your teeth, or toilet paper stuck to your shoe?
Mum pointed out on our visit to Currumbin last week that Jasmine was sporting a rather impressive mullet.
Exhibit one, taken 2 weeks ago (and yes, that's gorgeous Erin!)...
So I decided it was high time to dust off those newborn gifts we'd received for keeping your baby's first lock of hair and furnish it with Jasmine's first ever lock of hair. Only 26 months later.
Here are the after shots (and yes, she's still in the same 'ballerina' dress)...
Mum said her new hair cut was 'pert'. But I think she may have been referring to Jasmine's attitude while we were on holidays.
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