Bogger it

Those of you who see my Facebook updates may recall that my son’s first sentence was not ‘Love you mummy’ or ‘Nice doggy’ but ‘Fuck off fly’, a proud moment indeed. This was clearly due to me and I have made huge efforts not to swear in front of him. However ‘bloody’ and ‘bugger’ (and ‘cock’ but that is driving talk) seem a difficult habit to break. This has resulted in Charlie shouting, ‘OH MY BOGGERS!’ when anything is causing him aggravation. Then, yesterday, as I changed the sheets and he was (really annoyingly) lying in the bed I was changing, we were having a ‘discussion’ about whether the TV should be on and he told me: ‘Just turn the bloody TV on’. I tried to be cross but found it hilarious and buried my face in my hands to hide my amusement for fear of encouraging him further. He was rather concerned and asked if I was crying – he then prised my fingers away from my face and said, ‘You iss not crying, you iss bloody laughing.’ 

White goods misuse

This morning Charlie was playing in the lounge with Scooby Doo characters and I was washing up in the kitchen. He then walked into the kitchen and opened the door of the tumble dryer, there was a clunk and he then shut it again. I said that I hoped he wasn’t putting something in there to which he responded  ‘Zombies’ and returned to the lounge.

He has been told on numerous occasions not to put things in the tumble dryer and washing machine. He stuffed a potato smiley face into the washing powder compartment so successfully it went unnoticed for 2 months. Last week he emptied an entire container of banana milkshake into the drum – he was so delighted he celebrated with dancing and whooping, unfortunately this took place next to the washing machine which gave him away. 

Shopping again

Yesterday afternoon we went to Tesco.  I did some (brilliant) singing on the way which Charlie gleefully informed me was ‘rubbish’ I continued in the car park and was informed I had progressed to ‘hobble (horrible)’. This is despite the fact that Charlie had woken up at 6.45am the day before and lay in bed singing  (wailing) ‘Scooby dooby do where are you? Lotsa work to do now’ for 30 minutes.

I got Charlie to agree to shopping by promising rides on the toys outside. I am sure I am the only mother that is stupid enough to let their child ride on the toys both on the way in and the way out of the supermarket. Post rides I managed to ram him in the trolley after explaining that I needed to fit some shopping in so he would have to sit in the proper bit (this took a Ben 10 ball) and shopping commenced. We got to the fruit and vegetables and I said I was going to buy him some grapes, he said he didn’t want any. I told him he definitely did and he told me to ‘Bog off’ very loudly. This is one of my favourite expressions so I must be held accountable for this.  He then starting prodding my boobs and shouting ‘BEEP BEEP’, I politely asked him not to do this and he said in a puzzled manner, ‘But I sayin’ beep beep on  ‘em’. This continued for some time until we went past the baby section and he started asking for baby food – I told him he wouldn’t like it but he was determined and I so selected a squeezy mango puree, he took one slurp and nearly gagged saying it was ‘issgustin’. He then occupied his time leaning out of the trolley looking for the most bedraggled, dirtiest people he could find and shouting ‘HELLO!’ at them, one of whom followed us for a while. This is something he does frequently, he will walk up the street ignoring ‘normal’ looking people saying nothing and then someone who looks like they have been released from Broadmoor will walk past and he’ll try and strike up a conversation with them. The end of the trip culminated in Charlie announcing to a number of people in the household cleaning aisle, ‘DON’T EAT DA SQUIRRALS FROM HERE, I MEAN IT - DON’T EAT DEM’. 

Thief

Charlie just came up to me and asked if he could go to the burger place. He then went into the kitchen and came back with a packet of cakes and said 'have one?' After he had finished that he went back to the kitchen, I heard the cupboard door open and he came back in looking shifty and went over to the chair and stood with his back to me, he quickly unwrapped something and rammed it in his mouth, turned round and grinned at me with an entire mint Viscount in his mouth. He then went back into the kitchen to throw the wrapper in the bin and returned eating a massive banana. I think he may be hungry.

Charlie's first wind-up

When I picked Charlie up from nursery today I had placed 4 little foil wrapped chocolate eggs on his car seat. I asked him not to throw the wrappers on the floor, having cleaned my car for the first time in approximately 18 months (after having difficulty identifying the whereabouts of the steering wheel) I am now going through a ‘keep it tidy’ stage. Charlie said in an offended manner, ‘I iss not frowin’ it on da floor, I iss frowin’ it on da seats’. I promptly passed him a rubbish bag. He happily tucked into the eggs but after a while started asking for my help. I explained I was driving and it was a little awkward and asked  what the problem was. ‘Poblem  iss diss’  he repeated various times telling me nothing. I took a quick glance round (and nearly swerved off the road so not to be recommended) and was met with Charlie thrusting a partially melted egg imbedded into a yellow foil wrapper at me, ‘diss iss da poblem - iss stuck’. I returned to looking at the road and said that I would help him when we stopped and he replied, ‘Iss alright I okay now’. I was puzzled and asked how he had managed this, ‘put it in da mouf mummy – I eat it - yum’. I asked whether he had eaten the whole thing and got a  tentative ‘yesss’ I once again asked if he had eaten it, he had obviously noticed that my tone indicated that I was not particularly enthusiastic about his foil consumption and this time was met with , ‘Nooo’. I tried again and this time he said ‘Da man ate it’. He then elaborated but first adopted what he obviously thought was mysterious zombie like/ ghostly voice (Scooby-doo is to blame) ‘Da man mummy, da uva man ate it, not Charlie, da uva man in da car’. I started to get marginally pissed off as despite Charlie’s best efforts I was well aware there wasn’t a zombie in the back and it was clearly Charlie who had eaten it. I questioned him all the way back and he refused to supply me with any more information. When we got back I climbed into the back of the car and asked him again, he started singing ‘Yummy, yummy, yummy I got rubbish in my tummy’ (which I thought was genius). He then produced the wrapper which he had hidden behind his seat.

Haircut

Charlie had his hair cut again on Saturday. This time he took a (toy) gun with him. There was a miserable old git having his hair cut first and Charlie stood in front of him looking very serious and pointing the gun at his head repeatedly saying, ‘I goin’ a shoot you man’. The fact that the man in question wasn’t remotely amused made it fantastic to watch and pleased Charlie enormously. When the victim got up from the chair I immediately noticed that he had an huge bottom as did Charlie who walked behind him to have a better look – Charlie looked at me and grinned whilst I mouthed to him, ‘please Charlie no, don’t say it’, he thought about it and then came to me and whispered it instead. He then shouted at the man’s back as he left the shop – ‘SHOOT YOU MAN!’  After this he went to the hairdresser pointed the gun at her and said, ‘Cut mine hair’ and as an afterthought ‘PLEASE!’  After his haircut we walked round the shops with me holding Charlie at gunpoint at his request. He had quite a lot of hair chopped off and looks slightly like a young Hitler (as well as sounding a bit like him) which is unfortunate.

Short break

Charlie will be taking a short vacation to Centre Parcs and; due to his mummy's inability to utilise her iphone to its full potential, will not be blogging this week. He hopes you have a good week.

En guarde

Charlie walked into the kitchen holding two miniature copper saucepans of my mum's. He was holding them very carefully and walking very slowly. He held them out to me looking serious and said in hushed tones 'They iss vewy old and vewy 'pecial'. He then handed one to me and said 'hold like 'iss' so I was holding the bowl bit and the handle was pointing forward, he did the same and suddenly thrust it forward and shouted 'FIGHT!'

Cheeky sod

My sister; Lucy and I went to get a kebab on Tuesday evening, Charlie (in his pyjamas - post food, bath and teeth brushing) accompanied us as apparently you should not leave small children at home alone. As soon as he saw the massive menu on the wall; which had various ‘delicious’ looking photos of fast food on it, on he starting asking for various dishes (he loves fast food leaflets with photos of greasy burgers and pizzas and if he finds one will look at it for ages sighing and licking the pictures occasionally) ‘Mmmm, burger mummy – wiv some cheese on it for Charlie’, ‘Mmm fink Charlie wants a bit o’ pizza’ no 'fink burger - oh yum, mmmmm' etc. I reminded him that he had already eaten and he certainly didn’t need another meal. He went quiet and then suddenly prodded Lucy in the back and said, ‘Oh come on darlin’ I want one o’ dem!’.

In the car yesterday we decided to call each other different names for a laugh (he may have found it marginally funnier than me)  ' you are grandma' Oh hahaha - 'you are daddy' Oh hilarious hahahaha - 'you are Joseph from playgroup' Oh good one hohoho etc., we had been through, parents, grandparents, siblings and then out of the blue Charlie to me ‘You are Shrek’. Cheers.

Tea and bacon

Charlie has developed an obsession with tea. There is something very amusing about a 2 and ½ year old little boy asking for a cup of tea. He sits with his Pooh bear cup and slurps away, pausing only to say ‘cheers’ and clunk cups. We (Me, Charlie and mum) went to Felbrigg Hall (National Trust property) yesterday for a walk and to feed the donkeys, we ended up in the tea shop afterwards. I had a lemonade and Charlie and mum shared a pot of tea.

I really like taking Charlie to new places and one place we have recently visited is The Bucks Goat Centre. It was really lovely and Charlie decided that after the dilapidated trampoline his favourite things were the goats (this may sound obvious but despite the name there are various animals there). He got to feed a 2 week old goat and then made friends with two 6 week old goats named Lola and Rose. They are allowed to wander round and Lola decided that Charlie was her permanent companion for the day. Charlie managed to appropriate a Little Tikes ride-on motorbike and was flying round the goat barn with Lola flying after him. Every now and then he’d stop and shout, ‘LOOK AT  MINE BABY GOAT – I LUFF HER!’ At one point he decided to have a chat with one of the pigs – his name is Bertie Bacon and he was re-homed at the centre as he was out of control at his previous home. He lived with a family and would raid the food cupboards then fall asleep on the sofa. Anyway, Bertie’s pen was next to 2 lady pigs (often referred to as sows) who were on heat. This resulted in Bertie getting a bit frisky. Unfortunately when Charlie went to say hello he (the pig as oppose to Charlie) barged the gate so hard it was dented and Charlie jumped so high he virtually hit the ceiling. Charlie had a huge row with Bertie which involved much angry finger pointing accompanied by shouting ‘YOU IS A NAUGHTY PIG – I IS JUMPIN’ ‘ACOS O YOU PIG!’ etc.

Charlie in da house (mummy in da garden...)

On the way to nursery yesterday morning Charlie pointed out some piebald (black and white in this instance) horses galloping about, ‘Look at dem cows – dey is quick cows’ I said ‘That’s because they’re horses Charlie’. He has been confused about this before. ’No mummy, ‘dey is black an’ white – dey is cows – quick cows’. Charlie clearly believes it is the colour that makes the animal as opposed to the shape.

He’s currently playing on his bouncy castle. He took his Space Hopper on to it (my suggestion) but soon ran into problems. ‘I can’t get on it mummy’. I told him not to bother and as expected he ignored me and then became progressively frustrated and finally fell off. This resulted in him having his face pressed against the netting so he resembled one of the locals from  ‘The League of Gentleman’. I found this very amusing and asked if he was from Royston Vasey – he obviously had no idea what I was talking about but knew I was laughing at him. He was furious. He shouted ‘ISS NOT FUNNY!’. I told him he was mistaken, it was funny. He suddenly lobbed the space hopper off the bouncy castle and furiously kicked it down the garden, when he reached the bottom he stopped and said  ‘’ats better’, smiled and went off to play in the sand pit.

I had to pause momentarily from typing this as Charlie just managed to lock me in the garden and himself in the house. He was delighted with this achievement and was so busy being pleased that he failed to maximise the opportunity and raid the bread cupboard; which is a recent hobby – he attempts to select his own inappropriate breakfast ‘Iss?’ (rice crispy bar), ‘Iss?’(Tracker bar) etc.  He instead concentrated on dancing to the Kings of Leon and shouting, ‘CHARLIE IN DA HOUSE!’ like some sort of eighties rapper. I managed to get him to open the door by threatening to pop his bouncy castle. 

Rubbish runner

I was running again this morning and have now ‘upped my game’ (as they say on various reality TV shows – the alternative being ‘stepping up to the mark’) and am doing nearly 3 miles (ish). Sometimes I find it fairly pain-free and other times it is debateable whether I am going to survive the last half mile. The latter was true today and when I got back I sat on the front step coughing (and heaving occasionally) for a couple of minutes. I composed myself relatively quickly and sat for a while in what I thought was a fairly serene way, enjoying the sun and watching my feet steaming (they really were) and generally feeling quite pleased with myself. Then this chap walked past (I had passed him some time ago during my run), stopped and looked at me, shook his head and said, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get better at it’. Cheeky bastard. 

Shoes and Films

Today, Charlie and I went shopping as he needed some new trainers (his were banished to the garden due to dog poo and then forgotten about until after it rained - a lot). He selected a pair of Nike, and, whilst in his pushchair; on the way back to the car, enthusiastically ripped off the shoes he was wearing, flung them on the pavement then attempted (after getting them out of the bag and disposing of that and the box on the pavement) to ram them on his feet. When we got back to the car and I had assisted him in putting them on the relevant feet (and picking up everything up from the pavement) he stared at them lovingly then started kicking the passenger seat as hard as possible. I asked what he was doing and he replied 'I excitin 'bout 'eese' (pointing at his feet and kicking madly) I excitin 'bout mine noo soose!'


We then went to the cinema to see 'A Turtle's Tale' (which is pretty dire but I don't think it's necessarily aimed at my age group). The last time we went to see a film ('Rango' which was great) it was disastrous - I ended up chasing him around the cinema, so I approached today with trepidation. However, he was really well behaved and only started getting fidgety about 20 minutes from the end. There were only 2 other mothers with children there and after sidling  up to one lot, sitting with them and checking out their sweets, he got bored and decided instead to squeeze himself down the side of the seats row by row. He was three rows down and stopped. I was quite pleased and for the remaining 10 minutes of the film kept sticking my tongue out at him and shouting 'Hello' as he shouted  'Mummy!' and waved. When the lights came up I walked over to him and it was immediately apparent that the reason he had stopped was because he was firmly stuck between two seats and the word 'Mummy' had also been accompanied by the the words, 'Help me!'. It took me over 5 minutes to free him. 

Mornin'

Charlie woke up at about 3.30am today. He started whimpering and urgently shouted ‘Mummy, Mummy, mummy!’  I leapt out of bed to see what the problem was. He was sitting in bed looking forlorn pointing at his leg, ‘Mine leg hurt’ he said pointing to a completely healed injury (a small graze) sustained last week. 

After being so rudely awoken (he was up for quite a while) I was rather tired when I went for my run this morning. A mile or so in I passed a rather rotund (very large) individual with a fag hanging out of his mouth staggering up the hill puffing and panting who said to me in all sincerity, ‘I couldn’t do that’. No shit Sherlock. 

Mother's day

I got my mother's day bounty this morning. I was spoiled. I had a gift from Space NK and beautiful card as well as 2 lovely cards Charlie had made, he had also decorated a little pot and made some biscuits. Given that he made these last week he had little recollection of doing so and seemed astonished when I told him he had made them. 'Charlie make dem?' I said he had, 'Oh - Charlie eat dem den - dey Charlie's' grabbed the biscuits, rammed one in his mouth and walked off.

Nosy child

On the way to the local shops there is a house that has recently had their garden gravelled and a gate fitted, much to Charlie's delight they managed to deploy the services of a local tractor. We spent many an 'exciting' hour watching the bloody thing go backwards and forwards and when we weren't watching it, we were discussing it. The work is now long finished and there is a large padlocked gate so you are unable to see into the garden. This does not deter Charlie - every time we walk past he gets to 'the tractor house' lies on his stomach and shoves his head under the gate. He then gives me a blow by blow account of what's going on, 'Iss a digger over der, iss a cat wiv stripes like George (our cat), iss a man walkin' mummy come here - lie on da tummy and look at da man in da garden, MAN, MAN wot you doin'?'

Yuk

Charlie was in the garden earlier and shouted, 'I DUN A POO!'. Delightful.  So I asked him to come into the house so I could change him, as he walked up to me he said, 'I dun a right stinker'. An appalling sentence in both grammar and content.

Cheers Charlie

I took Charlie to an indoor adventure place today. I climbed up to the top of the main frame with him choosing the route that requires you to crawl through a large tube, constructed from a combination of material and plastic, to reach the slide - it is the only thing that looks unlikely to hold an adult's weight and I said to Charlie that I'd go the other way, he responded, 'Mummy too big for iss?' I said, 'Sort of Charlie'. He shouted from the other end of the tube, 'She get stuck in it?' I told him (as I started my descent) that was doubtful as it wasn't that narrow. He then bellowed, 'MUMMY TOO FAT?!'. Cheers Charlie.

Our day thus far

We went to the butchers earlier - luckily 'big bottom' wasn't about and instead the young butcher served us. I've noticed that Charlie often licks the glass display cabinets when I'm in shops - especially in the butchers, I'm not sure whether this is normal.


We went to another shop afterwards and I, holding 2 dresses, I asked him to come into the changing room with me - he glanced at the dresses in my hand and said, 'No - dey won't fit me'.


Later we were playing a game of trying to remember as many different animals as we could - I'd say one, then he'd say another and so on and so forth. We'd been through quite a few and he'd offered a cow, pig, lion, sheep, goat, gorilla, snake, cat, monkey, crocodile, dog, mouse, zebra and grandma.

Shopping

We were shopping earlier and Charlie was sitting in the trolley amongst the shopping as usual. He said he wanted a cake and we went through the usual discussion of why he couldn't have a birthday cake intended for 22 people  - his argument of 'it has a frog on it' wasn't particularly strong. I then agreed to buy him a cake if he promised not to keep asking to eat it immediately. He solemnly agreed to my demands. As soon as I put it in the trolley he was off, 'Want da cake, iss Charlie's cake, a bit of da cake? GIVE ME DA CAKE!' He went on and on, and ended up sobbing loudly. He then started shouting, 'STOP CRYIN' MUMMY!'. I gently explained he was the one crying.


When we left the supermarket he kept asking if we could go and see the birds. I asked him which birds he was talking about and eventually said 'wiv da ickle birds and a big carrot'. The pet shop which has a parrot.


He now calls parrots, well - parrots. He has found an animal book which has a picture of one in it. He keeps finding the right page and thrusting it in my face and saying crossly, 'Iss not a CARROT mummy, iss a PARROT!'  

Waffle

Just dropped Charlie off at nursery. He was eating his waffle in the car on the way there, having had a lie-in he only had time for his banana and milk when stationary and had to do the waffle on the move. When we got there, as expected; it was barely touched (Charlie just stares at food sometimes and forgets to actually eat it and then wonders why he’s still hungry). He said he would leave it on the seat for later (I was relying on him having a relatively short memory and going to chuck it when I got home – I have been caught out on numerous occasions doing this – he does not have a short memory). I persuaded him to leave it on my seat and then added (I am very humorous) I would sit on it on the way home – Oh ha ha ha ha – what a funny mummy you have – sit on it – ho ho ho - Charlie was not remotely amused (I suppose as his intention was to eat it later I do understand). I therefore made it quite clear I was not going to sit on it (I didn’t actually want to sit on a waffle) and he agreed to leave it there.  When I got home later I got out of the car with a waffle stuck to my arse.  

Busy boy

I got up last night at 4am as Charlie was asking for a drink. I also wanted check his temperature, it was high so I gave him some Calpol (after giving some to ''coon' and '(Winnie the)Poo' he agreed to have some) and then gave him some water. His new cup has quite a stiff lid and Charlie can't actually open it with his hands so does so with his teeth - this makes me cringe and I asked whether he could not just leave it open? No, I told him he could damage his teeth, still no, I resulted to pleading with him and he responded with a sigh - 'just go 'a' bed'.


We went to the park earlier and Charlie sort of clung on to his pushchair on the way back so he could stand up but not walk, obscurely all he kept doing (as he did nothing and was pushed home) was look at the floor, shake his head forlornly and say quietly, 'I so busy'.

Dr Charlie

Charlie is a bit poorly. He is running a temperature and coughing. Unfortunately I am unable to rely on how he thinks he feels - earlier he was very flushed, his temperature was 39.1, he was acting lethargically and looked very glum - I asked how he was he said 'better'.

Wrong again

I dropped Charlie off at nursery this morning - as I opened the car door I was completely overwhelmed with the smell of shit. Delightful. Clearly there was some muck spreading going on nearby and the wind was travelling in the wrong direction. Charlie, who was still 'tied up' in the back started sniffing and then observed, 'it smell o' poo'. I agreed with him and and he sniffed again and said 'fink iss cow poo... no horse... no iss PIG POO - iss PIG POO mummy!'. He obviously has a discerning poo palette. I left him debating with the other children as to what type of poo it was.


When in the car later on he found a baby hat on the floor (he used to wear it when he was about 4 months old - I don't clean the car on a regular basis) he picked it up and started trying to jam it on his head, I offered to help but he was a bit worried about this - I think he realised I would have to ram it on his head with force and it may hurt. I said it was a bit small due to having belonged to him as a baby - he stroked it and gave it a kiss and I told him that was very sweet (definitely preferable to a toilet) and said you like babies don't you Charlie - he looked at me disgustedly and said, 'no mummy - I like hats'.

BOO!

I picked Charlie up from nursery and ascertained that he had been a 'Good boy' - this is something I have now come to expect but don't take for granted. When he first started he was good for about 2 sessions and then decided it was more fun going around and whacking his 'friends' (as nursery refer to all the children, although I'm sure at this stage they would have begged to differ). I was rather upset about this along with his food habits - he has lunch there and they make a note of what they have eaten - the first few times I checked to see how he had done - they said 'Charlie, lets check - he ate everything - oops - that was the other Charlie - yours ate nothing' - it was all a bit traumatic. It soon became apparent that the only way to control my son was bribery - so every time he goes he gets the promise of a chocolate frog if he behaves - and more recently the option of a mini lollipop. So far so good. Today he paused before getting into the car to get his reward to stroke and kiss the (dirty, approximately 10 year old) people carrier parked next to me, I asked him why he had done it and he said with great sincerity 'Acus (because) I luff it'.


Charlie and I have been swimming again today. I went through the usual realisation that I had hairy legs 10 minutes before leavings and butchered them again. The pool was bloody freezing - we endured 40 minutes of teeth chattering and then gave up - Charlie kept talking about sharks and worked himself up so much that every time I moved away from him he screamed 'SHARK'S COMIN'!' and madly doggy paddled towards me, panting loudly as if he were being pursued by Jaws.


We then went to the Supermarket where Charlie will sit in a trolley as long as it's a 'funny one wiv no seat' - this is my fault having plonked him in one the other day. However this does curb my spending as there is only enough space for a small amount of shopping due Charlie taking up the majority of the trolley, also if he doesn't like the look of anything or it's in his way he chucks it over the side. As I wheeled him round he decided to shout 'hello' at people - well to be more specific; women or ''adies' as Charlie refers the female race - he waited until they got very close - quietly leaned forward and literally bellowed in their face 'HELLO!' and then guffawed loudly if he managed to make them jump. He was chuckling away today after doing just this and then went very quiet, I asked if he was alright and he leaned back in the trolley towards me, gave me a conspiratorial look and whispered - 'iss anuffer 'ady comin''. 

Bike ride

Charlie was out on his bike earlier - it's a balance bike so has no pedals. This confused Charlie and he told me they had fallen off. I kitted him out in elbow and knee pads and a Spiderman helmet - he got pissed off after approximately 5 minutes and abandoned his bike and ran off up the road.

Arghhhhhhhhhhh!

Charlie has continued his quest in how to be badly behaved. We went to a children's adventure centre today and met up with Charlie's friend Joe who is 3. He and Charlie generally play very well together but today seemed to be the exception. They spent over 2 hours beating each other up. Every time Charlie returned to the table he looked more and more dishevelled  - he'd run back take a swig from his drink (water) growling and then going back for more. He was progressively looking worse and worse and by the time we left he looked terrible. Incidentally, the reason we left was because I moved Charlie from the bottom of the slide to prevent him getting a kicked and was rewarded with a smack round the head for my trouble.


He has this thing with his food where he won't have it removed from his table even if he doesn't want to eat it, he has just bellowed at me from the garden (jabbing his finger at me to reiterate his point), 'LEAVE DA FUD ALONE!' as I tried to move some (incredibly cold) toast.

Cinema and loo

Despite me repeatedly telling Charlie he was not going to the cinema this afternoon due to his behaviour - we went to the cinema - I am crap. I was struggling to strap him into his car seat (telling him again he wouldn't go to the cinema if he didn't stay still - he obviously knew this wasn't true and totally ignored me). I said, 'Will you stay still while I tie you up?!' (meaning 'do you up'). Charlie started shouting 'No mummy, don't tie me up!' Of course, as usual, there were plenty of people about to hear him.


We are currently going through the trauma of potty training and Charlie particularly likes using the toilet. Today he stood on his step as I whooped and cheered, 'Go on - do a wee, do a wee!' - he turned to me with a sigh and said quietly, 'Turn round pease'. I then told him to lean forward and he said 'Mummy going to push Charlie down the loo?' I told him that wasn't my intention, so reassured he did so. After 10 minutes he managed 3 drops which required the loo to be flushed 4 times, he then showed how fond he is of the toilet by kneeling down and hugging the bowl and then attempted to kiss the seat. 

Charlie goes visiting

Just got back from a friend's house - Charlie's behaviour was pretty awful. He didn't speak to her 2 year old daughter other than to berate her for touching a ladybird (which he virtually crushed when he touched it), tell her off for playing with her own toys, react furiously when she had the audacity to say she also likes popcorn and then ended the visit by telling her off for looking at a spider. He did pause briefly from his tirade to hit himself on the head with a baby walker causing a cut to his eye, he was mildly pleasant for a short time after this - I can only assume he was mildly concussed. The perfect house guest.

Big bottom

Charlie has surpassed himself and shouted big bottom at someone who had an ENORMOUS bottom.  


He is currently eating chicken and rice whilst sporting a rather stylish moustache - this was drawn by myself (at his request) with a Benefit eyeliner. I had a hard decision as to which moustached icon I should make my 2 year old resemble and settled for Hitler.

Adult behaviour

After dropping Charlie off at nursery, whilst driving back, I came across a cyclist wobbling a bit precariously on the fairly narrow road - I went through the usual quandary of whether to overtake him when a car was coming in the opposite direction - if successful I would save about 30 seconds and if not; possibly kill him, me and whoever was in the oncoming vehicle. I decided to wait. I then spotted the half eaten muffin sitting on the 'Waybuloo' plate on the passenger seat (Charlie couldn't decide whether to finish it and decided that we should take it so he could make his decision on the move - I actually nearly drove off with it on the bonnet of the car which pleased him no end) and was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lob it out of the passenger window at the cyclist as I overtook him. I then reasoned this could also potentially result in his death and again  took the sensible option. I am becoming quite mature.

(L)eggs

Just remembered - he calls his legs 'eggs'. He is perfectly capable of sounding his 'l's' and he also knows what an egg is - nutter.

Pirates and carrots

Just put Charlie to bed and read him a book about pirates - his favourite subject for bedtime stories. This one particular book was about a pirate who needed a parrot. I pointed to the parrot and asked Charlie if he knew what it was - he said 'a carrot'. I told him he was nearly right and asked him to try and say 'parrot' he kept repeating 'carrot' - I explained that was a vegetable (incidentally; he knows exactly what carrots are) and not a bird (and birds) - but still 'carrot'. I can  only hope he doesn't chose to become a pirate as he'll look a right twat with a root vegetable on his shoulder.  

Animals

We had a full day out today and ventured to Mead Open Farm - Charlie was very well behaved and loved feeding the animals although he did successfully climb over one of the metal barriers in attempt to get into the pig pen. He also enjoyed the adventure play area and one point, when looking up I saw him go up to a little boy who was approximately 18 months and say 'Boo!'. The child promptly burst into tears - Charlie, unaware I had witnessed the event came to the table and said, 'Hello mummy, I been scarin' babies'.


I then had an interesting 15 minutes witnessing a teenage girl shouting at her parents; much to their embarrassment - this resulted in her calling her mother pathetic and her father a w*nker. I got myself a drink, sat back and enjoyed the show.

Red nose day

I  was just thinking about mother's day whilst looking at my emails and saw one titled 'Spoil your mother this Mother's Day', I clicked into it and was surprised that the gift suggestion was 'a pile of rubble delivered to your door' I quickly realised I had clicked onto the free-ads email below by mistake. Although tempted (and it is free after all) I'm not sure that this would be the  ideal mother's day gift and would possibly only be surpassed by a pile of poo.


When picking Charlie up from nursery he proudly presented me with a red nose day biscuit he had made. He was especially pleased that he managed to smack his friend Joe on the head with it before we left. The weapon in question was a Rich Tea with a blob of icing and a cherry in the middle and when in the car (and out of earshot) I muttered to myself, '' looks like a boob' - big ears Charlie responded immediately (and furiously), 'ISS ('is' rhymes with 'hiss' in Charlie speak) NOT A BOOBY, ISS A NOSE BISCUIT!' 

Dirty food

When getting ready to pick Charlie up from nursery and go swimming - a joy for him and a nightmare for me - he splashes around keeping warm - I stand there saying how brilliant he is half immersed in tepid water; freezing. I suddenly realised I hadn't shaved my legs - I was actually quite tempted to not bother and hope the hair would provide a bit of insulation. Vanity clearly won and a quick glance at the clock showed I had 10 minutes - so ran upstairs, burned myself and soaked my top but finally after some possessed shaving ended up with hair-free and in some parts - skin- free legs. I ran up to the bedroom, glanced at the clock and was surprised to see I had actually gained 10 minutes. As time travel is not actually a proven science I summised that the clock I initially referred to had actually stopped 12 hours ago and it was sod's law it was close to the real time. In retrospect I think stubble would have been preferable to the shaving rash.


I was very happy to see 'all' next to Charlie's name when I picked him up from nursery. This means he had eaten all his lunch - most mothers are ridiculously pleased about very small things like this. In the car I asked what he had eaten (knowing it was roast chicken) - after a thorough interrogation he admitted to having eaten chicken and even confided he'd also had some potatoes. He then went on to say he said he had yogurt for pudding. I asked if it was nice, he said yes, but it was a bit dirty. I obviously questioned this and he said again his yogurt was nice but a bit dirty - he then expanded and told me it had bits of dirt in it. I asked whether this might have been pieces of fruit - nope - definitely dirt.

Running

After dropping Charlie off at nursery I embarked on my (now fairly regular) run.

Before I had Charlie I used to do 6 miles without blinking (not literally) and now 2 miles is a bloody effort. I spend a long time trying to convince myself not to go due to various (often imaginary) reasons - adverse weather conditions, a cold etc. before finally realising that not going will trigger 'the guilt'. 

I always hope that if I am unfortunate enough to see anyone it is at the beginning, when I am looking sprightly (however my friend did offer me water as I ran past her the other day until I explained I had been running for about 2 minutes and wasn’t particularly dehydrated) and moving relatively quickly as opposed to the end when I resemble a demented slug.

Today’s run was particularly stressful due to my running tights. They decided to continually disappear up my arse as I ran. They are not the most flattering when in the correct position (that is my assumption anyway) and significantly less so when doing this. I became totally preoccupied with checking for passing motorists so I could liberate them as privately as one can on a fairly busy road. I was also slightly concerned that they were not doing this 2 days ago. My bottom has clearly grown since Monday.

This however is not as embarrassing as when I decided to do laps a few weeks ago. At the start I encountered 3 teenage boys doing some work on a Nova (looking at it) – I felt slightly self conscious and ran past quite fast; staring ahead, I noticed a smirk the second time as I was slightly slower and the third time could not fail to miss that they were pissing themselves when I staggered past, heaving occasionally. I was too ashamed (and equally unable) to attempt a fourth time.

The shame

We just got back from a long walk - made longer by the fact that we went at approximately half a mile per hour. 


We stopped to look at twigs and grass and debate whether dirt is dirty (it isn't according to Charlie). We then had to stop at a building site and watch a digger, tipper truck and road-roller for 20/30 minutes. The builders on this site are used to us doing this - Charlie firsts selects a stick then kneels by the fence and thrusts it through the gap and waves it madly shouting 'DIG MAN DIG!' at them like some sort of possessed foreman. I'm sure they all think that I fancy them and that's why we really stop - quite insulting; the youngest being slightly older than Charlie, the oldest approaching 80 and little in-between. 


The rest of the walk was fairly uneventful (even in comparison to the first bit), Charlie bellowing 'HI!' whenever we saw someone - a bit confusing as up until mid-walk and since he learned how to speak he's always said 'Hello' .


We then popped into the local butchers and all was fine until; when leaving he said to the (female) butcher 'Bye-bye, see you later big bottom'. Many of my friends and relatives have experienced this but it is slightly embarrassing when he says it to a (big-bottomed) stranger. 


We then walked back and he asked me to hold his hand - not a normal request as he usually likes to run ahead - it became clear when he immediately started hanging off my hand dragging on the floor shrieking ''S(h)E'S TAKIN' ME, S(h)E'S TAKIN' ME!' 

General confusion

Yesterday Charlie decided to run around me as I sat on the floor which was quite sweet until I received a head-butt from behind. In a slightly concussed manner I asked him what on earth he was doing. Charlie has never really explained his actions before and it went like this ‘Well – I runnin’ roun’ da mummy (sigh ) an I kick da leg (short demonstration of kicking) and felled over (arms flapping in distress) and hurt da arm (holding arm and looking sad) – and subsequently forgot all about my head.

We've had a busy day today - nursery (him), an animal hospital, the park and then Co-op. He went straight to the DVDs as usual - randomly grabbing various  titles – The Haunting, Exorcist etc. shouting – ‘I got dat’ at horrified passers by.

When we got home I went to put the washing in and noticed that there was washing liquid all over the floor, I couldn't work out where it was coming from and ended up turning it upside down and balancing it against the wall to prevent further spillage. Charlie came to inspect what I was doing and after watching me for a while, prodded the washing liquid and pointed out out a small hole - and said, 'No Mummy - Charlie make the hole der'. 

He tried another explanation during his bath later; a major incident occurred: he disappeared under the water for roughly a 10th of a second - this made yesterday's effort appear almost succinct - 'Put der head on a - Oh - (sigh) - an it (sigh) in a water - under it - Oh - Oh - Ahhhhh' this continued for approximately 5 minutes before he finally gave up on the English language altogether and just made noises. 

He went to bed at 7.45pm with his constant companion of the moment; a raccoon glove puppet that his Auntie Lucy bought him. He has a bit of trouble with the word 'raccoon' and it has ended up  the dubious name of ‘'coon’. I am not overly comfortable with this, especially in when in public and more so because it was recently brought to my attention that it’s actually a Lemur.

Sunday

Charlie asleep until 9.15am - bliss. Putting him to bed at 1am seems to work (I am lying).


He decided that it was very important to see what was going on outside today so, being too small to see out of the window; stood on my make-up bag so he was able to do so. He immediately knocked over the air-freshener with a well rehearsed 'Oops'. After picking up the bits I was unable to locate where to put one of the batteries - and muttered to myself that it was a mystery. He immediately looked round and said, 'Mummy, a misty? Scooby Doo can solve da misty'. Unfortunately he was unavailable.


When dressing him he was protesting at wearing a pink jumper, he then discovered that it had a small embroidered car logo on it and danced around the front room in joy suddenly feeling manly.


We went to Pizza Express for a late lunch and he was surprisingly well behaved - he sat on our table for his dough-balls before deciding that the people on table next to us looked more interesting. He went over and introduced himself, 'Pease to meet you - I Mr.Charlie' (always 'Mr Charlie' to strangers and Charlie to those he knows - he's formal like that) and ended up having a straw fight - this consists of thrusting the straw forward violently and shouting 'stupify' with a 5 year old named Annabel. He returned briefly for some pizza, which he took to another table, this time an empty table for 2 (he clearly finds us incredibly dull) and dined alone. He then returned again for his ice-cream and when this was finished went back to Annabel's table to share her dough-balls and Nutella.


When I asked what he would like for supper (much later) he said 'poo', he was then in a quandary as to what type - dog, cat or mouse. Unfortunately I was out of poo so he ended up with a banana and a yogurt.


He sleeps.

Eggs

Charlie looked into a bowl containing 2 broken eggs this morning and said 'boobies' - what is more concerning is that; as far I am aware - mine are the only ones he's ever seen...

Saturday Morning

Charlie woke bright and early as is normal for Saturday and put his request in for breakfast - a lollipop (his new obsession since he sampled his first one earlier this week; despite me repeatedly telling him he would be at least 20 before he got the opportunity to do so) and a cheese string. He ended up with a banana and a hot cross bun - and chose to eat the latter with a stilton spoon.


At some point he noticed a cut on my arm and gave it a 'kiss better' as I always do with his various injuries - he then said that it was okay now as he had 'eaten the hurt'. An interesting concept. 


We are now attempting to potty train yet again (there's a lollipop up for grabs) and he is walking round the house in a pair of 'Lightening McQueen' pants and a Liverpool sweat band. 


Quick update - forget the pants - and the lollipop...

Oops

Charlie and I have just been to the Co-op - he ran up to a man with a large moustache in the vegetable aisle and shouted 'YOU A PIRATE!' at him.

Oil - yum.

I woke Charlie up this morning at 7.40am, after going through the usual charade of him hiding under the covers and pretending he wasn’t there followed by protestations of ‘I tired’ he decided to get up. 

When downstairs I gave him his banana (he initially refused to eat it because his leg hurt on the ‘straight bit near da bottom’) which he subsequently broke in half, suddenly his main priority in life was to mend it. After 10 minutes hard labour he was a sobbing wreck and only agreed to eat the ‘broken’ banana after numerous threats (mine) of chucking it in the bin. He then proceeded to ram two thirds of it in his mouth and was unable to speak for 5 minutes – once I established he was not choking I sat back and enjoyed the silence.

We then got dressed quickly and left for nursery. For some reason, outside the front door there is a large container of Castrol GTX engine oil – Charlie immediately spotted this and pointed it at it and asked ‘have dis on da pancakes later?’ 

My first blog

I suppose I ought to start my introducing myself – I am Leonie and I have a 2 and half year old son called Charlie. I work part time from home and spend the remainder of my day with my son. I decided to start a blog after numerous friends commented on my Facebook status updates relating to my observations on life and mainly Charlie. It was suggested I should expand and start a blog. 

So here we are.