Do as I do...

So as I was saying, Grace is taking more of an active role in her own welfare. Cleaning her teeth, washing her face, lathering the shampoo in her hair... whatever it is, she takes part... she's learning. Fortunately I was wise enough to send a choice of two sunhats to Grandma's house this morning, as Grace took care to make sure Rosie the Bear was safe in the sun too. (Ignore the fact she's indoors with the curtains drawn to keep the blazing sun out!)

Helping Rosie the Bear into her sunhat

Taking a step on from there, tonight me and Matt the Husband were treated to a dose of moisturiser from Grace while in the throes of getting her ready for bed. We both left the room smothered in pink lotion where she'd done her best to spread it out and rub it in. I'm hoping she picks up Indian Head Massage at nursery tomorrow.

Grassy-ass

So I'm having my morning coffee (strong, didn't sleep well), watching Grace potter in the garden while the dog sniffs for cats. We've had breakfast, the three of us and we're heading off to a play date in the village soon. I'm tickled to see Grace picking handfuls of long grass (the mower is in for a service so I'm treated to a view of knee high savanna until it's back).

She toddles off in the direction of the dog... to feed her the grass. Miffed when Daisy ignores her, she throws it on the ground in a huff and goes off in search of a better tuft. Pulling it from the roots, she runs after Daisy, more insistant this time. Daisy rebuffs her offer again, presumably because only the dog can pick grass suitable for eating.

Very cute, the things they do.

Gracias, said Daisy.

Winds of change

Dropping Grace at nursery this morning I was expecting the tears and clingy toddler have become commonplace since she moved out of the baby room. Having missed two weeks with our trip to Turkey, I thought she would be reluctant to be left.

I was wrong.

Sitting herself at the breakfast table and making herself ready for cornflakes, she pointed to her bag on the coat peg.

"Do you want to put your dummy in the bag?" I asked her.

"No!" She shakes her head, pops her dummy onto the table beside the cornflake bowl and points again. Maybe she means the door, I think to myself.

"Do you want Mummy to go?"

"Yeah!" she nods her head. Surely not.

"Really? You want Mummy to go?"

"Yeah!" she says, nodding her head again. Bemused, I grin to the other parents and swan off to work. The winds of change.

As for wind, here's some breaking news. See the picture above? Where she got the idea to strike a pose when she farts I've no idea.

Grandpa?!


Curiouser and curiouser

I have started a trend. For several days now, bedtime routine has gone like clockwork. The putting to bed of the hair clips into the little bowl in the cupboard has worked a treat. But much like opening a packet of chocolate Hobnobs and eating one, you just know there is more to follow.

Tuesday night, Grace took her shoes to bed with her. She wore them in bed until the wee hours when she woke in a panic with hot-foot syndrome which sent Matt the Husband flying in a panic to remove said shoes before she work up proper.

Last night, we said 'goodnight' to just about every toy in the house. Three times she checked the doors were closed on her Happyland school house, just to make sure all the little people inside were safe. Twice she stopped to kiss 'Sheli', one of her favourite characters. Shooing her up the stairs, she look at me as if to say, 'this is just how it has to be Mama!'.

I wonder what tonight will bring?

One thing I know for certain, Grace likes things a certain way. Just like me. Curious.