That bloody Peppa Pig has got a lot to answer for.
My boy loves splashing in muddy puddles. Big muddy puddles.
Can you guess what happened next?
Yup. Flat on his face!
I know I shouldn’t, but it did make me giggle.
NB he wasn’t upset, more shocked. We took him straight home, stripped him down and showered him clean and warm again. Will he learn? Oh I doubt it!
Happy New Year everyone!
I’m joining in the wonderfully wicked brummymummyof2‘s link up #WickedWednesdays
So tomorrow my baby, my 6lb 6oz tiny bundle of large feet and enormous thumbs and piercing blue eyes and soft blonde hair, my baby boy, starts nursery.
It’s Jan 2015, meaning he’ll be 3 in three months. He’ll be one of the youngest there (it’s a proper preschool), and I’m so excited. For him, for me, for everything it means for us. I’m also terrified.
My boy has words but let’s not beat about the bush, he doesn’t speak. Not in any kind of sense you’d understand. He has communication issues and while the nursery are fully aware of them and have some amazing sounding strategies in place to help him, the other children don’t know this. What if he doesn’t settle? What if he can’t make himself understood? What if this means his behaviour is less than desirable? What if? What if? What if my baby is sad?
I so want this to work, to be a time he can enjoy and learn from. I’m just a bit nervous I guess. For the first time ever I won’t be there to defend him, to understand him, to explain him. Anyone who knows me will know I’m not a neurotic mother but anyone who knows me will also understand why I’m so nervous. For him. For me.
Things they are a changing. Again.
Apparently we shouldn’t have spent any money on presents this year. Clearly fresh produce is the play thing all toddlers are desperate to get their sticky little hands on this Christmas. From the cupboard. When you weren’t looking.
Le sigh
I’m joining in the wonderfully wicked brummymummyof2‘s link up #WickedWednesdays
mrssavageangel 