Important Safety Notice

When pulling to stand, as I'm sure all of you are about to do, it is very important not to take both hands off the chair to wave in celebration.

Thankfully my nappy cushioned my bottom. I wonder if Mummy could be persuaded into giving me a head nappy.

My Diary 14.

Today I have been a transported baby. Daddy took me to the previously mentioned car boot sale where I received several new toys including a xylophone. Next I played with Mummy before travelling to church in my bicycle seat. Daddy didn't pedal hard enough so I had to kick him in the back. Fwah hah hah. My friend T was in church so we played together. Most unfairly I had the seat side of the pew so he had it much easier when it came to dropping toys and making a noise. Eventually I persuaded Mummy to take me to drive the Church Ferrari. One choc chip biscuit and lots of admiration later it was back into the bike seat and zoming home. I passed T being wheeled home in his buggy and gave him a lordly wobble of the head.

All that fresh air made me tired so I napped till lunch (fruit cocktail and a yoghurt) then embarked on a strenuous play session with Mummy and Daddy. Wore Mummy out so went for a buggy ride to the park. Played on the swings then droped off on the way home.

Not sure what's going to happen about bedtime yet. Surely they can't be thinking of cancelling my breast privileges altogether. No. That would never happen.

In summary: today I've ridden in a car, a cute car, on a bike and in my buggy. A wheely good day so far. (That, fellow babies, is called a pun.)

Car Boot Sales

Ah yes, car boot sales. A thoroughly enjoyable pastime. Essentially, fellow babies, one is driven along in one's buggy while either side of you people compete to offer you toys and other interesting things to chew. One graciously accepts some choice items and one's Daddy rewards them with small tokens of appreciation. Mind you, they can be absolutely exhausting.

My Diary 13.

Mummy milk supply has been cut off. Why? I don't know. 36 hours now and counting.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Scientific Investigations Ongoing

The Photo is of me driving the boat. We have just overtaken Big Sis and her friend

Currently I am investigating several very important aspects of life. Firstly come buttons. These are the round things on the front of the shirts that Mummy wears. Once my insistent instructions register with her she performs a complicated operation that eventually results in the milk bar being opened for business. I am sure that with some practise I too will be able to operate them. Mmmmmm.

Secondly is my tooth brush. I now have 5 teeth with 1 more well on the way. I have a most toothy grin. I can select my toothbrush from the tooth brush holder, Mummy or Daddy applies the toothpaste then I place it in my mouth, brush end first and then I get stuck. Mummy or Daddy has to take over which results in a small waah. Must try harder.

Thirdly is where Mummy goes during the day. When I have a nap nobody can find me; therefore what Mummy calls work is actually a very long nap. A Mummy Nap. Plan - find where she is napping and drool on her till she wakes up.

Agoo all.

Weekend high jinks

Last Sunday I magnanimously decided to take Mummy, Daddy and Big Sis to Legoland. I was unimpressed by the height restrictions on the rides. I felt that asking about height was very non-J-centric. Unless you are talking about sitting I still only have length. I wasn't allowed on the helicopter ride. Pshaw. I've been in a helicopter before. I was able to go on the carousel and on various boat trips. I drove the boat so well that we did a 360 degree turn!

Isn't this a nice J tribute. They've caught the head fluff particularly well.

Apologies

My Dear Fellow Babies,

I would like to apologise for the more infrequent postings recently. Mummy has started going to something called "work"; I have to organise Daddy and so I no longer have time to pose for cute photos and to give the lengthy dissertations which are the heart of this blog. This is not helped by the fact that Daddy does not understand plain Baby. I say Abooogogogooo and am presented with a biscuit. Abooogogogooo means milk, Daddy. Not biscuit - that's Aboogogoooobo [furrowed brows]. I'm working on his understanding but it's a slow process. These men just aren't as intelligent as Mummies.