Dumpie was 18 months old on Friday. He is going through the stage where he likes to carry his favourite possessions around the house with him. These currently comprise the following: a tiny brown bear named 'Lemmie Winks', a few Mr. Men books, pieces of my expensive blender, and random objects which fluctuate daily but may include sippie cups, an ill-gotten piece of chocolate, a sock or a toy hammer.
Given that Dumpie has now decided that he is too mature to crawl up the stairs and now insists on gingerly ascending in an adult-like manner, having his arms bulging with 'things' is a great cause of distress for me. What is also a distress is the ongoing 'picking' of beautiful blooms on our terrace. Because we cannot access the terrace from our kitchen, it is agonising to watch Dumps grab a cluster of daisies and gleefully throw them up in the air before going for another handful - knowing that it will take me at least 15 seconds to get out to him, and by then the lovely blooms will be much depleted (sigh). It doesn't help that we blew a small fortune at the garden centre last weekend and all for the destructive enjoyment of our youngest it seems.
The boys now have their own cd player and radio in their bedroom. I have decided that a little bedtime music wouldn't go amiss and might actually stop the occasional indignant bedtime screaming. I wasn't wrong. After bath has proven a good time for impromptu disco moves and grooves and both boys are quite happy to indulge. Dumps favours the metal 'fist-in-air' thrusts and is also partial to the odd twirl. Eggie however insists on his own rather peculiar donkey kicking, galloping, odd jerky moves (reminiscent of his father at many a university disco as i recall). This apparent lack of cool grooving on Egg's part is not yet dampened by peer mockery as it is still confined to non-public venues. In fact, he is utterly unaware of his lack of grace, and in his head he is probably John Travolta, for the other night as he lept about clumsily with glee he proclaimed (to a terribly amused Auntie Ba and I), "Look, I'm like a Princess!!"
Ummm. No you're not Egg. Goshhhhhhh....
Today it's a gloriously sunny Sunday and all feels well with the world. Of course I have not yet gotten out of bed, and as i sit here tip-tapping on my laptop, I am blissfully unaware of the holocaust which awaits me in the kitchen. (Jay earlier got up, poured two bowls of cereal and hot-footed it back to bed with two strong cappucino's).
From the screams, crashes and general din I can surmise that all hell has broken loose and it is very possible that Auntie Ba has had her dreams brought to a sudden, agonizing halt by two gate-crashing midgets bearing cheerios. Ho Hum.
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