Week 11 – To sleep: perchance to dream: aye, there’s the rub


Date night!!!
With grandma and grandad staying this week we managed to get out for a red hot date without Captain Poo Pants on Wednesday. Well, I say hot date….it was a morning trip to Ikea to buy a bin but still…

…it’s a really, really good bin.

Conversations in our house this week:

“A much better night last night wasn’t it?”

“Yep just the 300 wake ups”

*sound of straws being clutched at*

A single tooth eruption of around a millimetre has resulted in about ten nights of not just broken sleep but sleep that someone’s driven a car over, frozen in liquid nitrogen then bashed with a giant toffee hammer. All this for one millimetre of tooth and there are 28 of the bastards to come through (I think. Is that right?)

What the hell is the tooth fairy playing at rewarding children for losing teeth? With the amount of effort to get them through the gums she should be rewarding them for keeping them as long as possible. Stupid idiot.

As control freak parents unable to hold back the force of millions of years of evolution we’ve instead slightly rearranged his bedroom in the hope of making it easier for him to sleep without distraction. Like feng shui-ing the chairs on the deck of the Titanic.

Following on from his first double rollover last week CPP’s preparations for next year’s Gloucestershire downhill cheese rolling is going well. His attempts to crawl are continuing apace having moved on from humping the floor to a 3 second plank to clear and intentional linear movement albeit in the opposite direction to that which was intended.

Pull a funny face
Captain poo pants has long enjoyed putting his hand in my mouth (possibly to find out what the white pointy things are that I’ve got in there).  He’s really taken this to the next level recently. He’ll pretend to just be giving my teeth a feeling but then grab my lip and yank it as hard as he can.  If he’s in bed with us and I’m dozing he’ll think nothing of trying to pull off my nose or an eye lid like a fleshy Mr Potato Head. I can only assume he thinks I’m some sort of Scooby Doo villain and is doing the world a favour by foiling my plans to haunt the abandoned fair.

First curry
I was really picky about food when I was younger and CPP has tried foods I genuinely didn’t taste until I was in my 20s (i.e. all fruit and vegetables). I was really happy this week to have made and given him his first curry (tailored for babies, obviously).  If you were wondering, the outcome was less explosive than expected.

I’ve been literally sleeping like a baby this week – waking up 8 times a night then really irritable in the morning.

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