Week 5: It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times

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Mother’s day
Mums eh? Isn’t it? Jumpers for goalposts. Didn’t they? Our first mother’s day was a chance to reflect on how brilliant a mum Captain Poo Pants has. She was rewarded by a lie in until 0745 and by being covered in dribble (the baby’s, not mine).

As a special Mother’s day treat, I cooked breakfast in bed.  Getting the cooker up the stairs was a bit tricky but I managed it.

It was also a day to  properly appreciate my own mum whose nights I disturbed, whose carpets I soiled and whose patience I wore thin. Now I’ve got a little poo machine of my own I know how hard and important all the stuff was before my brain was capable of forming long term conscious memory and before I had control over my bum, so a big thank you to both mums.

Captain Ill Pants
We’ve had an ill boy for a couple of days including Mother’s Day. On Saturday night he did a great impression of his dad circa 10 years ago and chucked his dinner up down his nice clean shirt. You’ll remember we were getting a new sofa this week (won’t you?). Don’t think that my decision to save a few quid by not getting the stain guard coating didn’t come back to haunt me.

The day of 5 poos and no naps
Tuesday was probably the most tiring day of parenting I’ve experienced.  I settled him down for a morning nap, lay back on our new, sick soaked sofa, and 90 seconds later he was awake again ready to play.  That was all the napping he did all day. Add to this FIVE POOS separated by about 20 minutes each and five hours of boinging, him putting his hand in my mouth and scratching my gums and grabbing my thumb and biting it and it all adds up to a pretty tiring day. By tea time I looked like a bad scarecrow with a hangover.

Swimming again
“Has he just woken up from a nap” asked the swimming teacher. “Yes” I lied knowing that in fact he was just completely non-plussed by everything that had happened in the lesson to that point. He perked up considerably though when we got to chase a floaty ball for a bit. Once caught, obviously it went straight in his mouth.

I’ve got over the fact that I’m the only dad at the class. In any case it was made easier this week because another dad was watching from the side, clearly uncomfortable. Hopefully I’ll get to see him in his trunks next week!

New noises
Captain Poo Pants has been making further solid progress towards full speech by adding some new sounds to his repertoire. So committed is he to mastering this skill that he is practicising round the clock, even at 3 o clock in the morning. This week we’ve had ‘Tom cat defending its territory’ and ‘irate pigeon trapped in a cupboard’. SO advanced.

Online shopping

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Even though we go to the supermarket almost every day, I still do online food shopping. Think I must have been sleep deprived when I ordered this surprisingly inexpensive carton of orange juice.

Teeth
HE STILL DOESN’T HAVE ANY BASTARDING TEETH.

2 thoughts on “Week 5: It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times

  1. Susan Wise says:

    A memory of me when I first learnt to speak that my Dad shared with all and sundry was the following, Susan shouting f###, f### and f### as I hit a shoe. Apparently it was my impression of him putting the studs back into the soles of his football boots. It was a long time ago. So you need to record any similar ones to treasure for Isaac’s future embaeassment.

    Like

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