Having eyed up a farm with a £9 ticket price and balked, yesterday we visited the smaller Seven Sisters Farm where Roo (now nearly two) could stroke (and get licked by) some calves, play on a rocker and swings, generally have a run around, and the grown ups could admire the calf shed wooden panelling (honestly, you can’t take a landscape architect anywhere without commentary), and scoff down some milkshakes and waffles with icecream. Thoroughly recommended!
We filled the bath quite full today. The problem is that sometimes you get it too cold, and then have to run more hot into it, and then you overshoot, and have to run more cold again. Anyway, it was quite full. Continue reading He went over backwards into the water
The tricky bit was removing the rear seat, mainly because I was looking at the instructions for the wrong model of car; the right instructions for me were on the Focus Fanatics forums. Fitting the actual bar itself was comparatively easy, just two bolts (after you’ve removed the bungs from the bolt holes), I’ve written a StackExchange answer. I bought the Isofix bracket and Torx driver set from Amazon.
You have to get the right kit to help you get the job done, am I right? For the first six months I was pushing The Boy’s pram round a lot of parks, rain and shine, whatever it took to get him to sleep. All this in the wrong shoes: Camper Twins. Continue reading Dad shoes: Scarpa Mojito GTXs
A nice idea for story-time is to suggest “let’s do a story from memory”! Amazingly we did Where the Wild Things Are tonight.
– Stef Landowski
One of the joys of having a young baby, I’m finding, is reading. I wasn’t expecting reading to come to us so early, it was my mum who suggested it when Rufus was only three or four months old. He loves us reading to him; the shapes, the colours, the closeness, the sound of our voices, the turning of pages, the taste of the corner of each page as he takes a pensive suckle before it
goes past. I’ve recently started to wonder if I can make stories up for him. I remember at OFFF in Lisbon, Joshua Davis was talking about creativity and how he made up stories to order for his daughter every bedtime. I’d like to give it a go, and I thought
writing about it would give me a chance to think it through and some motivation to continue.
Our son Rufus slept in different ways as he reached different milestones. The first kind of sleep, when he was a tiny baby, was more a some kind of rapidly cycling consciousness and unconsciousness designed to disrupt parental sleep, this was a phase where we were lulled into a false sense of security. “It’s easy having a baby! Look here we are, out at the pub, and our baby is sleeping next to us at nine-o-clock at night!”. This phase passed and we fairly rapidly realised that Rufus wasn’t going to be the kind of baby who could just fall asleep on the play mat, or in the pushchair at a café, or in our arms at the pub, or in fact anywhere unless we did something to sort this situation out.
The alarm in question looks like this:
The red light indicates a fault, which is why I’ve finally confronted my inability to remove it (hopefully your smoke alarm fault-free).