My life in a nutshell - edith tag

Chef Edith

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 23:00:54 GMT

Edith loves helping in the kitchen and has helped with the Sunday roast for the last few weeks. She keeps on telling me what to do and likes me to ask her permission and say 'Yes, Chef Edith' lots.

This Sunday when we got the meal on the table Helen congratulated 'Chef Edith' on an excellent dinner only to have Edith correct her "I'm not Chef Edith now, mummy, I'm Eater Edith". She then proceeded to consume her own body weight in roast potatoes, chicken and sausages.

Jamie has a habit of prefixing every statement with 'Actually'. Edith has picked up on this and got a bit confused so now every time we have Yorkshire Puddings with the dinner she thinks they are called 'actual-puddings'. If you try and correct her then you get a quizzical look then she will keep on calling them 'actual-puddings'. It is sending Jamie mad "because ice cream and jelly is an actual pudding, not these". This might well explain why she keeps doing it.

Barbie as role model

Thu, 21 May 2009 22:43:00 GMT

I was sitting next to Edith in the front room whiling away some time before bed.

"Are you going to be a sporty girl or a lazy girl when you grow up?", I asked.
"Sporty girl", she responded.
"Are you going to be a clever girl or a dumb girl?"
"Clever girl"
"Are you going to a mean girl or a kind girl?!
"Kind girl"

Edith paused for a second,

"I'm gona be barbie"

Okaaaay.

Hour long standoff with Edith

Sat, 07 Mar 2009 20:35:00 GMT

Argh! Edith climbed into Tom's travel cot just before lunch and emptied a box of beads into it. The kind of thing that Tom loves to put in his mouth. I told her she needed to clear up the beads before she got her lunch. 20 minutes later she was still refusing. The telly was off, there was nothing to do in the playpen, she just sat there. In the end I had to clear up the beads and multiple threats including toast of lunch and confiscation of her beloved Rolly Pony and 'new' doll's house. I followed through on my threats but she didnt seem bothered.

Black ice and bike

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 12:43:00 GMT

On the way to nursery on the bike with Edith on the back we saw a moped loose it on a corner and come off. It was very cold and icy. I dropped Edith at nursery and started to cycle to work when I had a similar problem. I was breaking gently as I approached a junction and the first wheel just appeared to go in a different direction. Next thing I knew the bike was toppling over and I was on the floor. Not too much damage, just some grazes and a couple of small tears in my jacket and gloves.
I have to say as the morning has progressed my legs and arms have got stiffer. Part of this may be due to last nights run but it is mostly down to the fall.
All this makes me nervous taking Edith to nursery on the bike. If she had been on board when I fell then that would have been a lot more unpleasant.

Edith's first ballet demonstration

Sat, 06 Dec 2008 12:39:00 GMT

Saturday was the end of Edith's first term at ballet and I got to sit in with the other parents and watch the lesson. Considering how nonplussed she was about the whole thing at the begining of term it was great to see her joining in and really enjoying herself. She did insist on hold one of the teachers hands almost all the way through. They did walking around on their tip toes and skipping and lots of waving of hands which I can see will progress into something more like ballet. It was great.

Princess and the pee

Thu, 27 Nov 2008 22:19:00 GMT

Edith has been dry at night pretty much ever since we got her potty trained but we have had her in pull up nappies in case of accidents. Everything was great until she discovered that she could wee in these and not get wet. Then, every night, she wees in her nappy. This week, being the most cunning daddy in the world, I bought some pampers Princess pants. They are bright pink and have pictures of Snow White and other assorted princesses. The big selling point is... the princesses disappear if you we on them. A great incentive for Edith not to wet herself.
Well I was right. Edith is now determined not to wee on the princesses. It has become a BIG THING. The joke is on me however. For the first three nights every couple of hours "Daddy daddy, I need to wee on the toilet". I have to get up, go into her room. Tell her to go to get out of bed. Tell her to go to the toilet. Then spend half an hour convincing her to go back to sleep. Sigh. Still, every morning the nappy is dry and the princesses are still in residence.