The Daphne Tree

At some point, roughly 20 minutes into hairdrying FiFi the soft doll (who had earlier been puked on) I laughed. This is just not something I realised I would be doing with my life. Especially more than once.And all of a sudden it was hilarious. Fifi is the perfect size to fit into the crook of a toddler arm, and therefore she NEVER leaves the toddler arm. Sometimes she is briefly forgotten, but then she is remembered in a wave of panic and yelling. WE NEED FIFI. FiFi is the 4th person at dinner. She tests most experiences for the child. FiFi go down slide! FiFi go on swing! Ahh swing safe. FiFi must be in crook of arm while we are reading books. FiFi sits on the edge of the table "watching" while we are cooking. She always wants one of whatever we make. FiFi sure is fucking annoying sometimes. She sneaks into all photos of my cute cherub and has taken over the role of the dummy in photos, you know, that embarassing thing that shows up in photos and proves what a shit pa...

It's no use, I'm going to have to admit that I love food and it is an emotional crutch for me. (That and wine) I'm sad, I eat. I'm happy, I eat.  Eat to celebrate, eat to commiserate. I eat when I'm stressed, and over stretched, and I eat when I'm bored or lonely.  I like to eat with friends, and insist on a meal out with the hubby once in a while. Love a BBQ.  I like eating out in restaurants and pubs, I like eating in the open air... I like takeaways...  I really like cooking (with a glass of wine) and being creative with ingredients. I LOVE trying new recipes and new dishes from foreign countries.  When I go into a supermarket abroad I just wander down the aisles fascinated by the different food and smells and awkward sounding names.  I worry that it's an actual hobby, an interest. I'm usually waiting for the next meal.  I'm the opposite of that Sam I Am character.  Yes I'll eat them on a house, yes I'll eat them on a mouse.  I WILL eat th...

It has started. Not the "Why?" yet, but the "What's that?" and "Who's that?" And I know she isn't the only one, as lots of her peers' parents look just as exasperated as I am. Every single book we read at the moment (we have to have three before bed, then have two "made up" stories, always!) ANYWAY, Every single book we read involves the Daph pointing at each character or thing and asking "Whoo dat?" Even when we have read this book FIVE MILLION TIMES and she KNOWS everything about ALL of it. I've taken to giving silly answers, just to prove to her that she knows, e.g. "Who Dat?" "It's a spotty unicorn with a swimming costume on" "No, mummy, it's a lion." "Oh yeh." "Who dat?" "It's your Dad" "Ha. No Mummy, it's a hairy monkey" "titter" So, I do that naughty thing of using sarcasm with my child, which ...

Don't have a kid if you object to the following: Severe insomnia (a given) Sharp-plastic toy-in-foot syndrome Deafness interspersed with supersonic hearing Continual diet and "support-wear" addiction Other addictions include caffiene (purely cold) and alcohol (purely warm) Bank account haemorrage Obsessive lego picking, and occasional fuzzy felt peelage Haggard appearance May become blind to most types of mess Constant elbow-in-boob-itis Heightened sense of smell Lop-sided hips/ arms/ back from child-wearing Incurable baby voice May develop ability to see 2 seconds into the future but be powerless regarding what happens Ability to go from fully reclined to completely upright while still unconscious Loss of memory (except when it comes to remembering to feed the family three times a day for the rest of your life, of course) Loud shouting when near a road Facial expressions which belie actual emotion (You really are very angry that Little Fred has put hi...

Pah. This isn't a negative post, more a resigned one.  It's been a weird old couple of weeks, not sure if I'm here or there. Had a job, tried my best, bent over backwards, go taken advantage of, left. Seems to be a pattern. Happens with people sometimes too. Make a friend, have fun, lend an ear, need an ear, nothing. People might describe me as "not very assertive", but I'd rather call it trusting and quiet.  I do wonder about "growing a pair" and telling people where to go, but if I ever slightly raise my voice they go all mock-shock and act like I'm insane.  And I may very well be, because arguing just ain't my bag, baby. I'd far rather bitch behind your back and not make the effort again, I'm afraid. Even when people are complete A-holes, I still make excuses for them and protect them, "maybe they were bullied", "maybe they are jealous", "maybe they're just not happy", and by always seeing the...

THEY infiltrate every bit of your life. Haha, "life"! I was out. Out out. Out on my own, minus toddler, with adults, in the real world, doing real world stuff. It felt bizarre. Something required me to have a pen. "I have a pen!" I do have a pen in my bag. But when I grope about my bag I pull out 5 crayons, at various stages of being eaten, a pen mysteriously wrapped in a tissue which seems a bit risky, and a water pen for an Aquadraw mat. Which has leaked, obvo. Then when it comes to writing I find myself "sounding out" the words, and discover I can't actually spell, or write anymore. Sigh. OK, screw that, I'm off to the bar. What do I want? Err, that fruity looking thing? HOW MUCH?? Oh god. After a few sips of liquid gold or whatever the fuck it is, and a few rounds of "Is that kid old enough to be in here" I'm off to the loo. Yes it is the fifth time I've gone tonight, problem? Wow, what have they done to the mirro...

Sometimes I forget that Daphne is two, and rhyme and reason do not exist. So when I find myself getting annoyed and flustered, I try to remember that she has been on this earth a mere 30 months, and she thinks her shoes are going to eat her feet. This morning I overheard her dad explaining that "you can't always have everything you want" and laughed, as I have tried to say exactly the same, but all a two year old hears is "No no no! We hate you!" Here are a few more translations, I know they are true because of the reactions I get from her. I say: "Just one cake." She hears: "You can never eat cake again, in fact I'm going to starve you and you will die." I say: "Can you get your coat on please?" She hears: "We're leaving and you will never see any of your toys again." I say: "Bathtime!" She hears: "Time to rub shampoo into your eyes and then drown you, yay!" It's not "we...