Assorted Thoughts

I am currently ranked 117th on the Lolcats NomNomNom4Fud game. I am equal parts shamed and proud. Hubby and I are both terrible suckers for annoying little blatblatblat games.

I keep dissolving into tears over the horror that is this. Harry was born the day Baby Peter died, and noticeably resembles him. There’s a special place in hell for this bunch.

Did I tell you that the last remaining hen disappeared last weekend? 

This batch of chicks are nervy little buggers, and are fast becoming a pain; I thought Harry would be fascinated by them but he’s hardly bothered at all. (Although, I very nearly died of teh cute when I saw him stretching his empty spoon through the bars, offering them imaginary food and making encouraging munchy noises to them.) They have started to jump out of the box, although they have – thus far – been sensible enough to jump straight back in the warm.


If they stray outside the bars only God can save them from A) the Toddler (aquila non capit muscas, and all that, but if one starts running about his playroom I can’t very well see Harry passing up a chance to… interact), and B) the Spaniel, who always exhibits an unhealthily keen interest in poultry.

thelwell dog poultry

The only thing pissing me off more than WordPress at the moment is our actual PC. It’s not responding properly to keyboard or mouse input (I sound restrained, but I’ve been beating the keyboard like a coked-up hip-hop star this evening) and it seems moribund – again. I think I shall start calling it Lazarus. It has more chance of long term survival than our laptop, however, which is currently dismantled on top of a bookcase


with zero (zilch, nada) hope of resurrection, and I can’t afford another one.

Which should bring me neatly onto the whole Going Back To Work Because We Are Flat Stony Broke topic, but I don’t have the energy for that one just now. It… isn’t going well.

Harry’s one word: ‘Geese’ is getting much more reliable. He says it about 150 times – at least – a day to practise, triumphantly. He has other words – which are not words. ‘ISS! ISS!’ I suspect is a bastardised ‘this!’ and means ‘Do something NOW with whatever I am pointing at. Open it/Give it here/Turn it on.’ A funny little Akkhh! sound in the throat is occasionally meaning No. He won’t shake or nod his head, and still refuses to make eye contact to denote a choice, glaring instead at the desired object with combustible intensity. He has a try at saying ‘teeth’, too. In fact, he’s big on sibilants, full-stop. He’s not given to sticking his tongue out at all – I’ve checked for tongue-tie any number of times – but he now seems to think that all words must begin with his tongue stuck quarter of an inch through his teeth. When he is trying particularly hard to attempt a word, I can see his tongue rolling into all sorts of contorted shapes. The speech therapist is allegedly coming Tuesday, and not a day too soon. I am feeling alone.

I found Harry trying to feed a Shaun the Sheep DVD – his favouritefavouritefavourite thing ever – into the slot, with a fair degree of success, despite the fact it was still closed. I was, oddly, delighted by his multimedia progress.

Harry is stoically coping with the fact that his lip is, essentially, pierced. He is my tiny brave soldier who has had to suffer far more than his fair share of mouth-trauma, and I have no words to tell you how much I am in love with him and his infinitely awesome cuddly-kisses. But not his tantrums. Not loving the ‘trums at all.

Earlier this week, I discovered hazlenuts where hazlenuts had no right to be. My focus pulled back and I realised the little terror had been climbing on top of his cooker.

cooker ladder

It’s cool. It’s not like there’s a glass door nearby he could smash straight through or anything.

Today an aeroplane flew overhead and Harry pointed at his cheek (should be his ear, but he abbreviates!) and then pointed upwards to tell me what he heard. I did the arms-wide universal aeroplane impression, which he copied. A minute or so later, Me Too! came onto CBeebies – a program with a sweeping CGI bird’s eye view of a city for opening credits. As soon as he saw it, he whipped his arms out into an aeroplane impression – and made a brrm brrm car /truck /tractor noise. 

How the buggery bollocks did he know that’s what a city looks like – from an aeroplane? I’m hugely impressed. But also very puzzled.

I keep starting to cry when I hear the Timmy Time theme. Because Timmy leaves the farm (sniff) and goes out into the world (lip trembles). You see, I have been making brave noises about booking Harry into nursery when he is 2 – the nursery, that is attached to the pre-school, that is attached to the primary school he will almost certainly attend. So, when he does start, he’ll be there continuously until age 11. And his birthday is only 74 days away.

That is all.



8 Responses

  1. When I say Harry’ll be continuously at school – it reminds me of when my Mum did nursery-classroom-helper duty on the first day of school. A little boy asked her how long he was going to be at this school for, and Mum told him until he was 11. He promptly started to cry, as he wanted to see his mother before then…

  2. It is such a brave new world when they start school isn’t it? My son is having troubles getting his veterans benefits from his injuries in Iraq and his old preschool teacher is helping us with the veterans administration and with writing senators etc, as her husband is Vietnam War era vet. Yesterday, I received a card from her with a picture of him at age 3 surrounded by his classmates. 21 years later you can still see the sweet boy he was when you look at him, even though he has been so changed, much as Harry will start to grow and change by his experiences.
    That was what Mrs. Ross was reminding me, that our boys grow, but they are always are still their mother’s sons.

  3. Oh my god, could you be any more prolific with your output? I have neglected my poor feeds for a day or 20, and here you are with a host of new posts. I suppose this is what lunchtimes are made for…

  4. “This” (“dis”) was one of my son’s first words and he used it in exactly the same way, for a long time–a sort of generic “look at that/give me that/what is that.” Looking forward to hearing about the speech therapist’s visit! Between the airplane imitation, the nuts, and the DVD, he’s obviously a smart little guy. (Sometimes, they’re a little too smart for their own good… mine has been climbing up on his stove, too, and he’s of the age where he’s doing it half just to get my goat. I try not to show that it’s been gotten, but he knows anyway.)

    Are you allowed to do part-time at the nursery? We started that at 18 months, and it made the transition much easier for me, at least. (They said it might be easier on him to go full-time from the start; I am still up in the air on whether that would have been true.)

  5. I love your prolific output. Please continue. Even if dozens of new Hairies appear in years future, maintain the delectable prolixity.

    The airplane-vista demonstration is, frankly, amazing. This is a very smart little codger. Seems that there is a physiological “beaver dam,” and that once therapy has demolished it he’ll probably cover the kitchen table with quadratic equations and explain to John EXACTLY how to revamp his farming techniques.

    Your school plan sounds perfect; there are few schools here that have that smooth nursery-kindergarten-upper grades progression.

  6. Hello :)I feel so sad about Baby Peter too, he would be the same age as my youngest now, I think. That evil man. Those horrible people.

    We have little chickies too, until tonight I kept them in the childrens room, but Id forgotten how much POO they produce, and how smelly they can be; (the chicks, not the children!) So now they have been banished to the laundry. I saw you have a red light, is that for night time?

    In Australia children do not need to start school until they are in their 6th year; the year they will turn 6. They dont have to go to preschool, although most people do send them one or 2 days when they are 3 or 4. Is it compulsory for you to send children to school at 2 in Britain?

    I love your Blog. 🙂

  7. I still maintain that Einstein didn’t talk till he was almost 4, and my mother said I didn’t talk till I was 2, so that makes me half as smart as Einstein. And I’m a girl. Harry sounds awfully Einstien-y to me. And he’s much cuter.

  8. I hadn’t heard about Baby P. How terrible. I just can’t grasp the midset that allows or participates in these things. And the mum asking forgiveness? The wardens saying that she should be pitied because even hardened criminals hate her? Sorry. I can’t find forgiveness or pity in my heart for her. Hell exists for this reason, you are exactly correct on that score.

    But YAY! YAY! YAY! for Harry saying “geese”! That’s exciting! Who knows what will happen next? The airplane thing is pretty cool too. He’s clearly connecting a lot of things in there.

    Love you muchly, Ann. I truly do.

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