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From Daddy Has Spoken To Mummy Is Broken

Week 71

Yes, the blunder weeks continue.

It seems if mummy doesn’t write, she goes a little stir crazy.

Not to mention there seems to be a link between my pen and the universe.

And I’m not about to cut that line of communication off.

I need all the help I can get.

Oh my God it is freezing.

I am huddled at my desk in the last of the afternoon sun.

Michael is pottering about downstairs, Emily is asleep, and my feet couldn’t be any colder if they tried.

I was nervous and excited on Monday morning as I woke.

It was the day I was to attend induction for my new sideways step job.

It is a shame we can’t walk I had said to Michael as we all piled out the gate.

I know, he had responded.

It is a cracker day.

My sideways job is actually on the same road we live on, only two suburbs over, which translates as about a half hour walk according to Mr Darcy.

How strange it was to be getting in the car less than ten minutes before I was due to arrive.

Normally I have to leave an hour before, just to ensure I am on time.

This is already better, I had thought as we whizzed along.

By the way darling, if it is ever raining, I expect a lift to and from work now please, I had said as he pulled up in a parking spot just outside the building.

Oh, I see, it is like that is it, he had asked with a grin.

I have wanted to take you to and from work so many times, he continued, but it has been almost impossible.

SO of course you can have a lift any time you want, he smiled. Obviously proud of himself for finding yet another way he could be of service to me.

My husband is very inward focused.

By this, I mean he loves the details of domesticity.

Is Emily going to stay while we go through things my friend Merryn asked.

Nope, she is going to stay with her daddy, I had replied as baby girl handed her bottle back and forth with my new boss from the safety of my hip.

Ooh, she likes you, I said as they continued to interact.

After saying good-bye to the cutie cute cute cute we got down to the nuts and bolts of things.

As we went through the procedures, I wondered if I would ever get the hang of things.

I have worked in the same place on and off for eight years, which means it had been that long since I had needed to learn how things worked.

I was shocked at just how little I could see, and just how many details there were.

I imagine if I could see, this is exactly the way I would like things to be set up.

From what I can gather, the place has a French inspired shabby sheik vibe, which is right up my alley.

I know it is going to take a little getting used to, and I am going to bump into a lot of things for the first few weeks, but such is the way in new environments.

Everyone is bending over backward to support me, and although I run into many of the same issues, I have in my old job, at least it is closer to home, and I can see daylight out the windows.

Since having baby girl, Michael and Emily have assimilated far more into the community than I have.

I am wondering if working so close to home means that I too will find more of a place and space to be.

My brain was zonked as Merryn dropped me home.

I needed to integrate all the information. Therefore, the only thing to do was to play with Emily and make homemade chocolate ice cream as she sat on the floor and ate her high/low tea.

I needed to mix and stir and separate eggs.

I needed to do something with my hands while my mind switched off.

I had been on my foot a lot, so the relief of dunking my body into the warm bath water was more potent than usual.

As usual, Emily and I played with her toys and reconnected as we went over the day’s events in a non-verbal way.

We sang the worry song, and row row row your boat, along with calling out to daddy so we could squirt him with water, baby girl offering to brush my teeth, using the funnel as a trumpet, hanging the toy bag over the tap, sucking on face washers, and pouring water over each other’s hands from the empty bubble bath bottle.

I swear to God every time I run her bath and pump a portion of the $17.50 MooGoo baby bubbles wash into the tub I cannot believe I am that parent who has paid such an exorbitant price for soap.

However, every time she sucks on the flannel, which by the way is a lot, I am ever so thankful that I did.

At least it won’t hurt her, I think with gratitude.

Although I do miss the big white foamy bubble bath Michael bought for us once.

Funny, because she didn’t suck the washer nearly as often when we were bathing in that bubble gum flavoured blue stuff.

Getting her down was an epic battle, but since my outburst on the Friday morning previous, I have been much more patient.

Sometimes I let her cry it out, and sometimes I do not.

It really depends on the quality of the cry.

I think when I gave up and walked out an hour after being next to her on Monday night, it took all of ten minutes for her to fall asleep.

Just in time for Michael and I to sit down for dinner, and some television.

Monday night is Love Child night, which is mummy’s favourite show.

Tuesday morning Emily and I were up early, and mamma was itching to get out of the house.

I needed an adventure.

I wanted to take Emily to playgroup.

But Michael was still upstairs sleeping and I didn’t want to wake him.

Not to mention I am still in the moonboot, and it is a bit of a hike.

Then there is the small detail of I don’t know how to get in the building.

Well I do, but only from the car park, and from memory that has stairs, so how would I get her trike up, and where would I store it?

And where oh where was the door handle located?

I was fairly confident I would know someone there, and I could see us playing, but was it worth the risk?

What if I got all the way there and then had to suffer the humiliation of not being able to find the entrance?

Sure, Emily is small now, and wouldn’t understand.

But what about later?

Do I call Emma my orientation and mobility instructor to take us, or do I simply ask Michael.

So many questions, and I wasn’t even dressed.

Thankfully, Merryn came to my rescue by asking me if I wanted to come and have my eyebrows waxed.

Sure, but I’ll have my sidekick with me, I had responded.

That’s ok, she had said without hesitation.

Of course she can come.

So after getting daddy up and offering him a cup of coffee, I announced our intentions, and off we went.

He drove Emily to the station in the pram, thus saving my foot, and once the train arrived baby girl and I took the two stops to my new place of employment, and hobbled across the road to the first door on the left after the lights where we were greeted with open arms.

As I had hot wax poured on my face, because that is always delightful, Emily sat quietly in the corner on her splat mat and ate her peas and corn.

This was followed by a spontaneous make-up lesson in the foyer, whereby Emily split her time between folding towels with Merryn, and sitting on mummy’s lap.

So guess who has found the perfect red lipstick after all?

And this ladies and gentleman is why I have to continue blogging.

Because maybe if I hadn’t written my wish down, then it might not have come to me so easily.

Oh my God, as I walked out of there, with my amazing beautiful and well-mannered daughter I felt pretty and confident.

How had I lived without this make up?

And did I want to continue doing so?

The answer was a resounding no.

I have always avoided make-up because I have felt foolish wearing it, and worried that I look like a clown.

I feel ridiculous with it, and ugly fugly without it.

If I am wearing a dress, I feel over the top, and if I am wearing jeans, I feel too casual.

But this was different.

This made me feel like the self I wanted to be.

This was the smart confident, intelligent, put together look I was after.

And not in a fake it until I make it type way, but it was as if finally my outside matched the truth of my inside.

Is this where I have been going wrong, I wondered?

Have I not been aligning myself from the outside in, and the inside out?

Make up seems like a trivial thing, and based on vanity, which is why I feel like I am betraying the sisterhood of beauty, is on the inside by admitting my response to my newfound friend.

Nothing about what my colleague had done felt over the top.

I felt fabulous.

Understated with a hint of cheekiness, but fabulous nonetheless.

One of the reasons I had taken this job was because I knew it would force my hand in terms of personal grooming.

Not that I look like shit, or don’t take care of myself, but in terms of my taking it up a level.

Because yeah, most of the time my nails aren’t done, and I rarely wear make-up. But this is born from laziness more than anything.

However, one of the things, which have been holding me back from stepping more into the public eye, is my appearance.

As I don’t feel confident with it, so I don’t want to be seen.

Therefore, I don’t skype with the video, or play with Facebook Live, Periscope, or any of those other visual mediums.

The fact that I have to have a photo at all on any of my profiles has always made me nervous.

So even though I know my currency is prettiness, I have managed to avoid, procrastinate, and put it off.

But the only way I could see to make this job work, was to embrace the opportunity to learn the tips and tricks of the trade, and use this as a proofing ground for my image.

So to have this happen just twenty-four hours after induction was perfect.

Thank you universe.

And hello perfect red lipstick.

I couldn’t find the lift when Emily and I went to the station, and there didn’t seem to be anyone to ask, so precariously I balanced her on the hippy thing, and we carefully carefully skated down the stairs.

Michael and I had done a quick trip to and from the station the day before, but we had forgotten to check out the lift situation.

I knew there was one, but I couldn’t quite remember where.

Slowly slowly, I said to Emily as she squirmed and wriggled.

Once we reached the bottom, she became very restless.

We must have only just missed a train in our direction because it seemed to take an age for the next one to arrive.

Emily tried to get down off my hip and wander away.

This scared the shit out of me, as I had never been out with a toddler before, and the boot oh God the boot slowed me down and threw me off balance.

Stay up here, I had said to her as I wriggled and wiggled and tried to reposition her for the billionth time.

I was worried that if I let her go, as in held her hand and let her walk that I would be teaching her the wrong thing.

How am I going to show her that she needs to stay close to mummy at all times if I let her wander hither and dither, I wondered as we jostled with one another.

Her newfound freedom made me nervous.

But somehow, I managed to keep her on my hip for the fourteen and a half minutes it took for the train to arrive.

Once again, daddy met us at the station and drove the pram home, giving me a break.

We were later than I had intended, which meant Little was not asleep when my friend Jules came over to pick up the rest of Emily’s clothes for her patchwork quilt memory blanket she is making for us.

Her four-year-old son Stan was with her, which meant of course Emily couldn’t go to bed, because there was someone to play with.

Instantly they took a liking to one another and played beautifully as Juls and I went through all Emily’s attire.

How strange it was to see her tiny things.

I can’t believe she was ever that small, I said as I held things up and told Juls the story behind them.

I want Emily to have a quilt, which can hang on the wall, but has plenty of different textures, buttons, tabs, zips, and pockets to put things in.

I want it to be something she can play with and wrap around her if she likes.

I want it to be her happy blanket.

I had explained to Juls as we sat in the only sunny spot on the loungeroom floor.

After all was said and done, and Juls and Stan had gone to find a park to play in, we gave Emily some lunch, and finally put her to bed.

My intention was to keep her up, but given she had lost the plot so intensely, Michael thought it best we put her down for an hour.

I hate waking her, and we try not to do that, but we were worried if we let her sleep past 3:30PM, she wouldn’t go down that evening.

So with a guilty tread, Michael traipsed up the stairs an hour after putting her down, and gently woke her up.

She is always a cuddling snuggling baby girl after she wakes, which is lovely.

However not surprisingly she was a little grumpy.

So we settled in for a quick afternoon tea before daddy took her to the park for a play.

Meanwhile I ran her a bath, and suddenly it was 6:00PM, and time for daddy to leave.

It was the first time Michael has left to go out at night on his own since we have lived together.

There isn’t much that will get him out after dark, unless it is mummy’s birthday dinner, which only happens every couple of years anyway.

However sometimes a man just has to go and change the world for the better.

Michael had agreed to speak at our local council chambers regarding the Play For All campaign, which is growing in momentum.

I had been asked to do it a week previously, but when I started to chat about it with Michael, and I brought up my logistical concerns regarding getting there and back even though it is within walking distance of our house. Because the moon boot is making it difficult he became really animated about the topic of inclusive play spaces, and given how much more time he spends in park playing arenas than I do, we thought it best he take this one for the team.

Not to mention he is far more eloquent than I am.

I am still a mess when it comes to this area as it means so much to me.

I want to write an open letter about it, but I don’t know where to start.

I knew it must have been important to him because he shaved, put on his best cologne, and wore his good shoes.

My husband rarely dresses up for anything. So I knew this mattered.

I was so proud of him.

How strange it was to put Emily down, which by the way is an hour I won’t be getting back again, and then sit in the loungeroom on my own.

I had planned to do some writing, but instead I half watched Master Chef, because I knew Michael would want to know what happened when he got home. But mostly I spoke to my sissies on the phone.

By 9:30PM, I was shattered, and there is only so much channel surfing I am up for these days before I have to go to bed.

So after a quick taste of my homemade chocolate ice cream, I went to bed and stressed about whether my husband was lying in a ditch somewhere, and how I would find the door to the local police station and report him missing if he didn’t come home by sunrise.

Oh yeah, I am that mamma.

However, in my defence, there was a strange loud banging outside which I had not heard before, and I was worried that something terrible had happened to him on the walk home.

Just as my anxiety levels were rising beyond reasonable, I finally heard his key in the door.

I wanted to race down stairs and give him a hug, but part of me was too tired, and I didn’t want to wake the baby.

Therefor I had to wait the forty minutes for him to have his toast and settle in front of the idiot box before he came up to tell me about his night.

We got it through, he announced triumphantly.

Oh, I was so excited.

Then he proceeded to tell me all about the farce, which stood for our local council meeting, and I rolled my eyes back and forth, as he spoke.

Lucky I wasn’t there, I thought, as I really would not have been able to hold my tongue.

Even thinking about it now and my blood boils.

All too soon it was Wednesday morning and a certain cutie cute cute cute was wiggling and wriggling beside me.

She had slept for nine hours straight before Michael had brought her in.

Going, she said as she climbed over my head.

Where are you going, I asked.

Down, she responded matter of factly.

What, no good morning mummy, or how did you sleep, I continued.

Down, she simply responded again.

Ok then, well hand mummy her pants.

Anything to buy me thirty seconds.

Pants pants pants, she said with a smile as she handed me my top.

I knew that Michael couldn’t move as he is still sick, so off we went in search of toast.

Besides, I had made an exception and was headed into my old job for a while; therefore, I wanted to see Emily for as long as I could.

However it was raining, which meant we were in for a long morning.

Particularly because madam was trying to break out by 7:16AM.

I tried keeping her amused, but eventually there was nothing else for it but to go jump on daddy.

Lucky for us he is good-natured and doesn’t really mind.

Work was a fly-by in that I was in and out fairly quickly.

However when I got home the plan had been for us to tag-team so Michael could work on the business, but I felt a migraine coming on, so I went to bed, and those two crazy cats went to the library to let off steam.

I was in the kitchen when they returned, ready with a cup of tea for me, and a bowl of pasta for Emily.

I was in the middle of making another chocolate self-sourcing pudding to go with our roast pork that night as baby girl came barrelling into the kitchen for a cuddle.

Hello hello, I greeted her fondly.

Did you have a good time, I asked.

I did, she said as she nuzzled my lap with her head in that way she does.

We high/low tead it, then had a bath, and once again it was time for a cuddle in the rocking chair before the bedtime battle began.

Another hour, and a sound asleep baby later, Michael and I sat down to the best roast dinner in ages.

By Thursday morning, my foot ached in a backward kind of way, and I questioned the wisdom of my choices.

However work was work, and I needed to go.

But rather than simply going in and hoping for the best, I stayed home for as long as I could, and only went in when I knew I had work.

Things need to change, I had said to Michael.

We need to delegate time for each of us to work on the business the way we do when I leave the house to earn money.

Why hadn’t we put this kind of concrete strategy in before, I wondered as the words came tumbling out of my mouth of their own accord.

We need to divide the child caring differently, and get this show on the road, I continued.

The reason we aren’t getting anywhere is because we are putting the business last.

Let’s just carve it out, make it important, and everything else can work around it, I had continued.

Oh, my God, I would love that, he said without hesitation.

As though for he too the light had just come on, and he had been waiting for the answer to drop from the sky.

it feels as though over the last three weeks things are finally changing enough that I can see a way out of our current black whole of doom and despair.

Miracles of all miracles I don’t feel as trapped in my current job, and can create something other than what we have.

This isn’t to say I am not grateful for the opportunity it has afforded us.

So in case I haven’t said it, thanks Tamie.

But Working closer to home is going to be so much easier.

I wonder why I dragged my feet on it for so long.

Change is definitely worse in my head than it is in reality.

Meanwhile Michael and Emily had decided to go to the zoo.

The weather wasn’t great, but they thought they would take her red sparkly shoes and go anyway.

Miss I don’t like shoes or socks is suddenly obsessed with them.

Now keeping them off her is difficult.

If she could wear all her shoes at once like the monkey with many hats, she would do so.

It is impossible to explain to a toddler why their shoes don’t just go over one another like a set of babushka dolls.

Yes you Miss these size 6 gumboots do in fact fit over little slippers.

What mummy doesn’t do to make you happy, huh?

Somehow, I managed to pass Michael on Thursday afternoon without his notice, which meant I was home before him.

He had told Emily that he would take her to the park just as soon as he finished whatever boring dad job he was doing. However, that was not soon enough for one walking walking walking baby girl.

I had thought we would just go to the front gate and back.

Umm, apparently the cutie cute cute cute had other ideas.

She wasn’t particularly interested in her high/low tea, and I was looking to fill in time.

Not to mention she has finally found her big girl voice, and boy oh boy can she project that thing.

Her favourite word is dad.

She loves to shout it loud and proud, and have him come running with a yes Emily.

God love you honey, it is adorable.

You two are such good entertainment.

However, we don’t live alone anymore.

There has been a Magpie and a couple of Butcher Birds hanging out in our yard for weeks.

Usually around the same time, Emily has her snacks.

With each day, they become more and more daring.

No longer is her food safe.

We’re pretty sure that one of these days we’ll find the Maggie eating out of one side of the dish, and Emily eating from the other.

They are not afraid of her, and she is not afraid of them.

My hope is that it will remain this way.

I figure she’ll soon learn that if she wants to eat, then she’ll need to sit still.

Although God knows what I had planned when they were gone.

Probably to write a marketing blurb about myself, which as we all know is the hardest thing in the world.

Funny how it slipped my mind completely as I thought I would see just how far and where Emily would take me.

Out the front gate, along our narrow path to the letterbox, right on to the street, right again into the park, down beside the tennis courts and past our back gate, and around to the little park beside our house.

We played in the park while daddy organised dinner, and just as it was getting too dark for mummy, he called us home.

It was strange to be out alone.

I hadn’t taken a phone, a stick, or put Emily’s bells on.

I felt vulnerable and a little nervous about our adventure.

Worst case, I knew Michael would come and get us.

I kept hoping I wouldn’t run into anything.

Oh well, I surrendered as we roamed across the tree scattered parkland, Emily has to trust me, so I guess this is building a bond in the other direction.

Please don’t run me into anything, I prayed as she toddled along, and the surface of the ground changed beneath our feet.

Traditionally I stick to the pathways, as open spaces are renowned for obstacles such as shrubs, park benches, and garbage bins.

By the time, we reached our front gate again Emily was so tired she could barely walk.

I worried that I had let her go too far.

As obviously she took anywhere from between four and six steps to one of mine.

But every time I put her up on my hip, she would squirm and worm to get down.

At one point, I was worried she would end up on the tennis courts with the players, as she shimmied down a set of stairs in rebellion to my repeated pleas for her to come back.

And oh yes they were pleas.

Pleas of a desperate mother who knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

Pleas of someone who was afraid, and all parties knew it.

I wasn’t sure how to get down said stairs with the moon boot, apart from getting down on to my bottom, and sliding down behind her.

But then I ran the risk of treading on her fingers, so all I could do was call to her our magic phraise of come to mummy.

Eventually it worked, but more because Emily had decided to come up instead of continuing to go down as she so told me.

Again, as I stood there hopeful, calling her with enthusiasm as she made her way toward me with my arms out, I couldn’t but feel what a pathetic being I was in comparison to her power and her will.

You’re running rings around me kiddo, I said as I scooped her up and gave her the biggest happiest hug ever.

I always try to reward her with praise when she does what I ask, in the hope that the positive reinforcement will stick.

Kisses for everyone I said as I kissed her head and her hands, and then made her giggle by kissing my own.

I was surprised when we tumbled in the front door that Michael did not have our bath ready.

I always have that ready, and would not have called them home without it.

But then he listed all the things he had been doing since our spontaneous departure, and I understood.

However this did make things a bit awkward, firstly because madam butterfly bottom was madam muddy bottom, and secondly, because said madam muddy bottom loves to come home and go straight upstairs into a nice warm bath after playing in the park.

So I found myself scrambling to keep her off the furniture, and run a bath in record time.

I knew there was no chance of her eating anything else as her cognition had been well and truly overloaded.

Therefore, it was with optimism we bathed, and then I gave her a bottle and put her to bed.

As usual, it was a fight to get her down.

And as usual, she ended up in our bed at some point.

Although I cannot really complain, as she has been getting up from anywhere after 6:30AM and 7:30AM most mornings lately.

Some mornings she will eat anywhere up to three slices of toast, while others she will barely touch it.

Friday morning was an I’m not interested in food, and if I have to stay in this house any longer than necessary, I might go batty.

Thank God, daddy was up and about to take her to story time.

Again, I didn’t head into work until later and stayed home working on a new project.

The one which is scaring the shit out of me, and I have no idea how to go about it.

And before I knew it I was on my way home, and gearing up for what I thought would be a productive afternoon in front of the computer, but which actually turned out to be a repeat of the afternoon before.

Hello adventure in the park with the cutie cute cute cute cute, but no stick, no phone, and no bells all over again.

This time it wasn’t so much me I was concerned for, but given how much more crowded the place was, I worried that I had nothing to identify me as a blind mama.

I was fairly confident that Little wouldn’t run me into anything, as she is usually pretty good, even around our yard.

I had thought that when she began walking she would simply go off and play by herself.

But she prefers to take my hand and have me come everywhere she goes.

At this point I am not particularly worried, for as long as she has my hand, I don’t care what we do or where we go.

My main aim is to have that a part of the stipulation.

So if it means I hold her hand even when it is safe, or she is in a confined space, then so be it.

I don’t feel it is appropriate for me to try and explain to her where she can and where she doesn’t have to hold my hand.

So although it might seem inconvenient, I have a bigger picture in mind.

For it won’t always be like this, and I need her to listen when I call, and hold my hand when we are out as a matter of course

Besides, who doesn’t want a shared experience.

As it was when I took the washing off the line yesterday afternoon, it wasn’t nearly as fun without my little helper to pass the pegs.

What on earth did I do without you, I wondered as I stood there in the cold mindlessly folding clothes.

I could hear Emily and daddy in the park, which is always nice.

However, after having such a difficult day whereby the blindness almost consumed me whole, the reprieve from a toddler left an emptiness in my universe I had not expected.

All day I had been struggling with the pain of not being able to see.

All day I had been on the verge of tears, firstly as I tripped over Emily under my feet, then as I tripped over Michael.

You didn’t sign up for this, I said to him as I stood with my head against the brick wall.

All I wanted to do was smash it.

I wish I could fix it, he replied.

Each of us knowing there was nothing more to say.

It was just going to be one of those burn out blindy days.

We had planned to go shoe shopping so I could find a new pair of work shoes.

However, the shop we went to, although they had the perfect thing, it wasn’t in my size, and they weren’t willing to get it shipped from another store.

So still, I am left with my shitty old shoes with the cracked soles.

It had ben dark in the shopping centre, and I had hated it.

In fact, I had hated everything about what I wasn’t seeing.

I used to be able to see Emily’s outline in her cradle, and now I cannot.

Now she is a blur of colour.

I’m going blind by the second, I thought as we sat in the car.

Maybe it is worth risking cataract surgery.

When we got home there was no chance Little was going to have a nap.

And although I desperately wanted one, I figured that nothing was going to be easy, so why should we all suffer.

And this is how Michael found himself sitting on the top of a windy hill watching sport.

My logic had been that if I kept him home to take care of Emily, I would feel guilty and more burdeness than if I simply sucked it up, and got on with the job of crashing into furniture and yard equipment.

This isn’t supposed to be happening I kept telling myself as a thousand pain receptors kept my tears out of reach.

Meanwhile I had to put baby girl in her cot for half an hour just so I could lay down.

She wasn’t happy about it, but she wasn’t overly unhappy either.

It wasn’t until her grizzles became screams of distress did I get up and go fetch her.

I felt like a shit mother leaving her there as it was.

By the time, Michael and her had come home from the park it was obvious that she was going to be down fairly quickly.

So we had a quick bath where I got to have eye contact with her using my hands, and low and behold by 6:00PM she was out like a light, and I was on the lounge trying to download audible books.

Even though it was a long night, and at least I got to have most of it without a certain snuggle bunny nudging me out of my bed, I was still unable to get up with her.

Yesterday had been so scary, that I didn’t want to face another one of those days.

Thankfully, Michael got up, and I was surprised when he and Emily came up the stairs an hour and a half later to wake me up.

God knows I could have slept for another hour.

However Michael wanted to go out, and someone needed to take care of Emily Kate.

She hasn’t been herself today.

We think she might be sick.

I was so upset with myself when I couldn’t find the new talking thermometer mum bought us.

I was having such a brain snap that I didn’t even know what shaped object I should be looking for.

What kind of a mama doesn’t know where either one of the talking temperature telling thingies are, I chastised as I searched through the medicine cabinet while Emily literally hung off my tracksuit leg and grizzled.

It may have felt as though the sun was only a light in the sky, and there were icicles on the wind, but baby girl’s cheeks were red red red and her forehead was hot hot hot.

The only thing, which made it, better was to change her nappy.

And of course, by change it, I mean I take it off, and she spends the next twenty minutes running away from me and giggling as I awkwardly scamper after her to put a new one on.

Today the only way I could get her back was by holding up her beloved potty hat/basket, because that is all we use it for, and asking her if she would like to come and have a go.

Within moments she had crawled over and was sitting on it earnestly baring down to try and do a pooh.

Then she would stand up, look between her legs the way she so often does now when she farts, which by the way is hilarious, then after seeing nothing was there, she would poke her head back up at me and say try again, before sitting back down for another turn.

Over and over again, we repeated this exercise.

And then I had the brain wave of handing her a wipe and asking her to wipe her bottom.

I only had to show her once, and she was doing it like a pro.

Sit down, squeeze, stand up, look between her legs, wipe her bottom, try again, and sit back down.

Although there was no result, I was so proud of her for wiping her own bottom.

Daddy is going to be so surprised, I thought as I watched my big girl learn yet another important life skill.

At least she knows what the potty is for, I mused as I offered her a dry nappy.

You’re so clever baby girl.

I tried to get her down for a nap earlier, but even though she was giving all the signs, she wasn’t having a bar of it.

Michael will be away for a week in September, and I am thinking that is a good time for the dummy to disappear.

Although admittedly I am torn about this approach. Because should I really be taking said comfort away at the same time she doesn’t have her favourite person in the entire world?

I say this because the throw my dummy game and you come and get it is driving me bananas again.

Just because I haven’t mentioned it, doesn’t mean it has stopped people.

But this morning it was particularly intense.

I fear that I may have missed the window of opportunity to lose it from a couple of weeks ago, and now we will be stuck with it for who knows how long.

Oh God and then there is the bottle.

How the hell are we supposed to get her off that thing?

Anyway, these are all questions for another day.

Because for right now, I need a warm cup of tea, a good book, and some delicious dark chocolate.

Published inBlind Is The New BlakBusiness BanterMarried LifeThe Blunder Weeks

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