Share, mummy!... Toilet Training looms...

So I'm getting ready for bed last night and I'm heading for the toilet and the Sprocket races in in front of me. 
'No, mummy! Mummy no goes pee-pee. Ghee goes pee-pee!'
'Um, but honey -' I begin. 
'Share mummy!' he tells me firmly. 
Of course.  
So I shift my weight from foot to foot as I take him out of his sleep jumpsuit and enthrone him on his little seat on the toilet. And he sits and makes proud and cheeky faces at my beloved and I as we stand around and cheer and tell him how very proud we are of him using the toilet like a big person. 
We can't tell if he does anything or not and I don't tell my beloved about the bit where the Sprocket uses the tissue to wipe his nose after he's made a cursory swipe in a general down below direction (it's definitely not wet.) 
But it looks like toilet training is now on the agenda. 
I was hoping to wait until Summer, until Uni finishes for the year, basically until some date that isn't now. 
But it looks like that distant date far far in the future is well, here. 
Gulp. 
Wish us luck!

First Steps... The Poppet is now a toddler...

"Okay little girl, walk to daddy? You going to walk to daddy?" 


The Poppet stands holding to my knee and looks at my beloved inquisitively. 


"Walk to daddy?"


And then she launches. 


One, two, three, four little steps and she's holding my beloved's outstretched hands. 


Oh my little girl - the last vestiges of babyhood are being left behind as you make your first small steps. You look so grown up in your little jeans and tiny shoes and white knit cardie (courtesy of the lovely ladies at the Sunday Market) and the light gleams on your curls and you smile at us in glee and triumph...


Of course, you'll always be my baby, but... you're a toddler now! 

Miracle of Words

The Sprocket and the Poppet are both reminding me of what a great treasure this gift of language is. 

The Sprocket is making us giggle nearly hourly as he copies our sayings and ways. 

I was doing something that displeased him recently (possibly changing his nappy) and he told me "Not happy, mummy," in just the tone I use. 

My Beloved got a new computer for his birthday and the Sprocket told us "Not daddy's Computer, Ghee's Computer. Share Daddy!" 

He sang his first song recently at my beloveds birthday 'Happy birthday to daddy,' which we all thought was a pretty special present.

The Poppet is making pretend phone calls saying 'hi-ya', and calling for mummy and daddy and nana. Her manners are a delight as she always remembers to say ta although we are working on snatching. She is practicing with babbling and is a beautiful singer (in a wailing kitten kind of way). 

It is incredibly exciting to be at the very beginning of language, of organised thought and memory. 

While my Beloved has told me that the main thing that sets us humans aside from the other animals is our arched feet (at least I think that is it) I have so far not come across a cannon of Chimpanzee literature so I am fairly chuffed with our language skills.   

It's an honour and a fascination to be here now at the beginning of my Sprocket and my Poppet's journey into words, to shape it, to share it and to just watch and listen in awe.  

Blue Skies

We celebrated my Poppet's first birthday today. 
As if in benediction it's been such a lovely blue-sky spring day. The cherry plum and quince blossom is blooming,  our roses are just beginning to come out and our fairy magnolia managed a single much anticipated bloom just in time for the Poppet's big day. 
It was wonderful to see my Poppet playing with her cousin (younger by six weeks) and so many giggles listening to my Sprocket sing happy birthday and purloin the candle for himself. 

Tell my lies, tell me lies, tell me (sweet little) lies

So when is it okay to tell a lie? 
My beloved tells me lies on a regular basis - and it doesn't worry me.  I trust him.  Sounds weird yeah - he tells lies but I'm down with it. Well, yes. I trust him not to do anything to hurt me. I trust him to have my happiness at heart. 
I don't necessarily trust him to tell me the truth 24/7.
My beloved does not trust me to be punctual - which is where most of the lies come in. Most mornings he'll tell me it's half an hour or so later than it really is. This is in order to get me (and the kids) out of the house on time(ish) Oddly, he seems to think I'm a little disorganised and need rushing. 
Weird that. 
He might have a point as we normally get him to uni with minutes to spare. 
I am thinking about this especially today as I was under the delusion we needed to be in the city by 8am tomorrow morning - until I saw the timetable... and saw it actually says... hmmm... 10am... 
A whole TWO hours later. 
But I get where my beloved is coming from - if we aim to be packed for the day and out of the house by 6ish we might actually manage it for 7ish... which, allowing for bad traffic is probably fairly reasonable. 
The Sprocket told his first lie recently - or the first that we noticed. He pooped in the bath and when my beloved came through to help deal with it the Sprocket told him that it was 'bubba' who did it. 
Awww... our little man, growing up. He is becoming a social creature, understanding cause, effect, consequence and um... deflecting the blame. 
We were too busy giggling and saying how clever he was to tell him that actually, it's better to tell the truth. We weren't cross about it, accidents happen, and you need to tell the truth for trust. 
Because hey, much as I love and trust my beloved, when he tells me the time I now narrow my eyes... and check the computer...
I don't like the idea of lies, but sometimes well, they make sense. 
So good- bad - or dependent on circumstances or always a no-no? What do you think?