Right now...

• Little man is looking extraordinarily cute in his fluffy new dressing gown. Thank you grandma and grandad.
• He is playing his new incey wincey spider game by himself, by which I mean he's shaking the dice and counting the spiders (four).
• We're having breakfast after a bit of a lie-in. I gave B the usual 'it's too early to hide from dinosaurs' spiel when he first arrived in my room then realised it was twenty to eight so sang the 'Mummy loves B/what shall we do today?' mash-up instead.
• I want to take the Christmas tree down but suppose I should wait until Saturday.
• I'm wondering with amusement what little man will make of YO! Sushi, which is where we're going for lunch.
• At the moment he's eating some peppered salami, but eating all the peppery bit at once and telling me it's too spiky. Oh, now he's telling me to eat the pepper 'snake'.
• The new toy  house is taking up a lot of room in the dining room, which is required for a family dinner tonight.
• I'm trying to decide which sling to take on the train to Liverpool, which is a tough one because B usually walks everywhere these days (everywhere usually being ten minutes into our local town). In fact, it must be weeks and weeks since I carried him.
• I'm going to make my second cup of tea and still lamenting the absence of a nice man to do it for me, although I can't stand the thought of actually having to share my house with someone else at the moment.

Toddlerwearing

I thought my sling hoard was complete. I'm even thinking of selling some on. But now I'm wondering if, in fact, I need a new one. Little man only ever wants to go in the Yamo. He protests mightily if I suggest the Storchenwiege instead. Unfortunately, he has finally grown big enough that the Yamo is a) not supportive enough of him if he falls asleep and b) not that comfy for my back for more than half an hour or so.

So I'm wondering if I need something designed with toddlers in mind as I still have an instinctive dislike of the pushchair. Sure, there are days when it comes in handy and days when I can't be bothered carrying him. But generally it makes me feel encumbered. I don't like sticking to a certain quality of path if I go out for a walk and I don't like struggling in and out of shops or trying to find somewhere to park it in cafes. I do like that the little man is up at my level and I can talk to him over my shoulder.

So this is a warning really, that babywearing is addictive and very bad for the bank balance. Now, what do I go for...

Turbo pottering

I put little man in a creche for the first time today, at the leisure centre so I could go for a swim. Now my knee hurts and I've decided exercise is bad for the health. The little guy was unfazed by being left with strangers for three-quarters of an hour; when I returned he was engrossed in some crayoning. The creche staff weren't actually all complete strangers to me. The first person I met on walking through the door was a woman who was my best friend for a while during primary school. This is what happens when you live in one place for the first eighteen years of your life and then return after fourteen years or so away.

There was still plenty of opportunity for little man to demonstrate his dislike of playing with other children when we went to the park. It was lovely and sunny and the park was busy. And he starting crying every time another child went near him on the little climbing frame-bridges-steering wheels-steps-slides thing. He gets very proprietorial of those steering wheels. So we went off to look at the ducks on the pond instead and he managed to cadge a piece of bread off a kind passerby to feed to the varied waterfowl, which included some swans that looked like they wanted to snatch the bread straight out of his little fist.

After visiting the chooks and feeding them the lettuce and cabbage I didn't get round to eating from my veg box, little man insisted on carrying one of the two eggs we collected back to the car himself. I had to keep reminding him to concentrate on carrying it gently and not stopping to point at aeroplanes or starting to run to see the tractor mowing the playing fields. It made it home in one piece. Now if only he actually liked eggs in other guises than eggy bread...

Next up was a stroll into town to buy a bunch of daffodils for my front window. It's part of my campaign to make the area seem friendlier. So many people have blinds or curtains that are permanently closed. Well, I don't care who sees what I own. It's just stuff and I don't have that much of it anyway. But on the way, just after little man had decided he'd walked far enough and it was time for a ride in the Yamo, we were approached by two smart, besuited young men on bicycles, who asked me, in American accents, whether I had time to talk to them about the family. I should have referred them to the STBE husband since I'm not the one who gave up on my family.

Back at home, after the compulsory stop-off at our local playground where little man usually has the steering wheel to himself, it was time to do some painting so mummy can turn the daubings into something artistic looking for grandad's 65th birthday card. Unfortunately, our major mess making was disturbed by grandad himself who came to measure up for a gate to go at the top of the steps in the back yard. The ones little man decided it would be a good idea to try to drive his little car down the other day.

Such a busy day! I haven't described every incident of whinging, whining and tantruming, of which there are a lot from a little guy who still doesn't talk much. I now feel very much like a glass of wine, even though I had planned on abstaining until grandad's party tomorrow and all I have in the house is a couple of those miniature bottles, which I buy for cooking with.

Pottering

It's what we tend to do on Thursdays. Work is over for the week, usually, little man is always with me and not daddy and we have no commitments.

We cook. Cauliflower and cheese soup for lunch to use up the cauli from last week's veg box and the slightly over-ripe smoked Cheshire cheese. Little man even ate some. We do those household chores that can't wait any longer like vacuuming up all the bits of crushed cereal from underneath the sofa. We stroll into town to pick up milk and bread and pop to the library. Today he fell asleep in the Yamo on the way there so I actually got to look at 'grown-up' books. (I was going to say 'adult' books but that might give the wrong impression.) I've borrowed some of the Sharpe series by Bernard Cornwell because I like a bit of action (suppose that might give the wrong impression too...).

Little man even stayed asleep when we got home long enough for me to have a cuppa and start a book, albeit perched on the edge of a dining chair so as not to squash him. After lunch we went to a play group, although it seemed wrong to go to an indoor group on such a beautiful spring day. To make up for it we called in to see the chooks at the allotment, where we found grandad digging and stopped for a cuppa. At home, we planted up some pots for the back yard with narcissi (those tete a tete mini daffs), little purple irises, drumstick primulas and a couple of evergreen ferns. Well, I planted and he rammed my legs with his ride-on car and demanded a succession of oatcakes so I had to keep washing my hands.

We had sausages and lentil thing for tea. Lentil thing contains all sorts of good stuff like carrots, celery and dried mushrooms. He ate the sausages and then ate about a dozen lentils, one at a time. Slowly. And then grandma and grandad arrived to put him to bed while I went off to a yoga class. Ohm.

Now my telly box seems to be playing up, so I guess I'll even be rounding off this day of simple homely joys with an early night. Time for camomile and spearmint tea. I could do with more days like this.

Slings and roundabouts

Walked to the grandparents with little man in the buggy this afternoon. I didn't want to use a sling in case I slipped on ice. That turned out to be the wrong decision. Pushing a buggy through slush the consistency of lemon sorbet is hard work, and in some places virtually impossible. Good for the thigh muscles though.

In some places I was dragging the buggy backwards on two wheels. I may have uttered a few expletives. I ended up walking in the road whenever I could. So the sling would have been more sensible. At least when you've only your own two feet to worry about you can quickly leap out of the way of oncoming traffic. Should have listened to Cave Mother asking What Would An Inuit Mother Do?

I think I need to strengthen my babywearing muscles anyway. The boy is getting heavy but I refuse to be stuck in a situation where I can only go for a walk where are there no stiles, no narrow gates, no rough paths, fields, undergrowth etc and no fun whatsoever.

Sorry I misled you about the roundabouts. There are only figurative ones featured here. I wasn't going to walk the long way round just to justify the title of a post!

Windy day at the seaside

New Brighton. Wirral. Not to be confused with Brighton, Sussex. Windy day. Turbines turning. Waves splashing over the prom wall. Interesting view of Liverpool's scrapyards. Container ships being guided into dock by tugs. Pigeons to be chased. Stones to be examined. New knitted mittens to be waved. All polished off with a fish and chip lunch, at which little man suddenly found his appetite, which meant we were all waiting for him to finish for a change.

Voilà!

It's done! Contracts exchanged. Completion November 24. One month to get central heating installed, paint walls and ceilings (especially the blue ceiling in the bathroom), change some floorings and arrange my furniture to make it cosy for the festive season. Anyone know where I can get environmentally friendly, non-toxic carpet for the bedrooms at an affordable price?

I took little man for a walk down that way this morning to show him our new house. He fell asleep in the Storch before we got there. I thought the wind blowing up the Manchester Ship Canal was going to wake him up as we crossed the swing bridge to go and have a look at the Mersey, but he was well away. Until we wandered back up to the Bridgewater Canal and an angler said, 'You've got something growing out of your back.'

'It's a monster,' I replied, at which point he woke up, stuck his arm out and shouted 'bo' [boat]. Indeed there were lots of narrow boats moored up.

Much fun was also had at what will be my new children's centre. After being given a tour of the centre and chatting about what's on we booked the soft play area and little man had a great time climbing over everything, balancing on a big ball on his tummy then falling off and generally running about like a loon.

Tomorrow it's off to school. Ha ha. Here's me considering home education and I'm taking him to La Petite Ecole in the morning. I don't even speak French myself. If it's fun we'll give it a go.

Wears the baby...

I'll admit it was the Bringing up Baby programme that first alerted me to the existence of baby slings other than the very limited selection in the standard baby shops. And then it was my own bloody mindedness that made me want to do something different to what the vast majority of parents do. Since then I have owned... let me think... er, ten different slings. I now have just five of those, having sold some on.

So yes, it is addictive. Especially with such a friendly sling group near me in Preston. Look at http://www.slingmeet.co.uk/ to find your nearest. Great help when you're learning how to chuck your child on your back in a manner that makes bystanders gasp in shock.

But it's also wonderful. Little man gets to be up at adult level and people talk to him and include him much more than if he was down in a pushchair. He got closeness and security in the early days that I think has now helped him to be very adventurous and confident. I get to go for walks without worrying about terrain, stiles, gates, mud. I get to go through shop doorways with ease and along narrow pavements without risking life and limb going into the road. And because I've always carried him, his increasing weight isn't a problem... yet.

I'm not a purist though. I was, in fact, spotted this week pushing him back from the shop in a buggy. I just needed somewhere to put the shopping!

Time for a cuppa

Have I mentioned that my boy is somewhat spirited? Hmm, think I might have once or twice. I shy away from terms such as high-need but at the moment it's me who has a high need to sit down and have five minutes' peace every now and again. He is high-energy, highly determined, high-accident rate, high-climbing, high on the joys of being alive. In old-fashioned terms he is a difficult child. Mischievous. Naughty even. But they are not hugely helpful descriptions or labels to give a small boy who just wants to explore the world and run around and climb everything in sight.

At the same time I am getting fed up of juggling earning a living, organising baby sitting, keeping the house in a saleable condition, hosting viewings, trying to arrange a mortgage when I don't have a job, thinking of what to have for tea every day, feeding the chickens, coming to terms with being single after fourteen years in a relationship, and possibly at some point having just a little bit of time to do something nice, like go for a walk or put my feet up with a book. So occasionally my patience wears a little thin. Just a little.

This morning we went to the GP so I could get a new prescription for anti-depressants. While we were waiting little man repeatedly ran out of the door and down the driveway towards the main road, meaning I had to go with him. I'm talking at least thirty times. Still, he learnt the baby sign for 'stop'. In the GP's room he tried to empty out all the tubs of sample pots, he climbed on a chair then fell off (good job my GP is a sensible sort of woman who didn't see that as a problem), grabbed at all the pens and pencils on her desk and generally made a nuisance of himself. In the pharmacy afterwards he at least settled down to demolish the display of lollipops on a low shelf.

He had a short nap on the way home (note to self: take the trouble to use the Storch as the sleep hood in the Yamo is pretty useless), and is now trying to pull the hot oven door open, get into the drawer with the matches in, smear banana over himself, climb on the dining table, wear a sieve as a hat, grate his fingers and brush up with a broom that is twice as tall as he is.

I've now opened the back door and little man is outside pulling away the piece of Perspex that keeps the chickens in their run and out of the rest of the garden.

Time for a cuppa.

Get me away from it all...

...now!

I've spent a large portion of the afternoon in work browsing, firstly, Scottish holiday cottages, and, secondly, reviews of the campsite next to Culzean Castle in Ayrshire.

I have come up with a daft plan that involves camping for three or four nights in a couple of weeks' time and a week at a cottage at the end of September. Anyone want to join me?

The first bit, the camping, is daft because it's the school holidays and I hate other people's children (people I don't know, obviously). If my child makes a noise, runs into other people's space and steals their footballs it's just his charming way of exploring the world and his abilities within it. If someone else's child does it in my vicinity then they're horrible tearaways who need to learn to think of others. Plus I have no idea if I can rope anyone else into coming with me and I can't put the tent up on my own, due to it being designed by men, or very tall women.

But the reviews of the campsite make it sound lovely. Google it. Sunsets, views, friendly, quiet sandy beaches.... and once you've fallen in love drop me a line and come with me.

Part two is the continuation of a half-baked plan I put to some friends a while back. My plan now is to just book somewhere big enough for two other families at a time and see who wants to come when. Again in south-west Scotland, probably. Alternatively Anglesey. Can you tell I still have my tax rebate and extra tax credits sitting in the bank? Good job my bank (that's smile.co.uk, ethical and everything) stopped those pesky fraudsters before they got to my hard-earned cash.

Can you tell I'm feeling more chipper at the very thought of going away even if it might mean camping alone with a 17-month-old? How do I shower? Cook? Relax? I think slings will come in very handy, but still... There's just something about being Out There. Away. Staring at the sunset.

Sleeeeeep

Little man didn't want to go to bed last night. Or rather, he didn't want to go to sleep alone in his cot. So we lay down on mummy's big bed together. He seemed to be lying there very quietly and still but with his eyes open for ages but eventually dropped off. As did I. I woke up with cramp in one arm and feeling very cold about half an hour later. So I decided to grab a cup of herbal tea, get into my pyjamas and go back to bed, this time under the duvet. It was 9.30. Glad to say I slept through til 7. Which means little man did too.

I've been finding it hard to go to bed early enough. I think it's because looking after little man is so intense and he is pretty demanding when it's just me and him. So after I've put him to bed I want to have time to relax, to think, to sit quietly, to watch a DVD, to read a book. But I do feel better for just one good night's sleep. It's now nearly 9.30 again and I think I'll be off to bed when I'm finished up here.

I took little man up Rivington Pike this morning, before I went to work. We managed to not get rained on. Which means I won the bet I had with him. When I asked him if he thought it would rain he grunted in a positive kind of way. So I bet him a tummy tickle it wouldn't.

I found going uphill with him in the Yamo not as bad as expected. Once I got into a steady trudge it was fine. It helped that it wasn't too hot. Little man was very excited once we started to get an extensive view and kept saying his favourite line, which sounds like 'what is it?' Yes, my boy hardly has any words at all but he can string a sentence together that is guaranteed to drive mummy mad after the fiftieth repetition in one day. He was even more excited when we got to the top and I took him down to stretch his legs. He was scampering around like crazy and squealing. And falling over. He's not used to uneven, rocky ground.

My latest plan of action is to get out walking with him more, regardless of the weather. He's always happy to be in the sling while I'm on the move and I need the exercise because I've decided I need to get fit enough to go and climb a proper mountain again soon.

Happy camping

The rules for camping with a one-year-old:

Don't go at the summer solstice and expect the child to sleep before 10pm or after 4am.

Don't try to put up a large tent on your own while the child runs off across the field.

Don't think that you can relax and sup wine in the evening while child sits quietly on your knee.

Don't expect the child to have a sense of self-preservation that stops them going near a lit gas burner.

Don't lie in bed freezing cold without summoning up the energy to get into your sleeping bag and under your duvet properly.

Don't expect to be able to go for a shower.

Do say sod it and go anyway.

Do accept offers of tent-erecting help from nice young gentlemen.

Do remember that you have your entire collection of slings in the car before you get the tent up.

Do take enough warm clothes for a cool evening and cold night, for you and child.

Do use far more baby wipes than normal for everything from cleaning the groundsheet to cleaning yourself.

Do have fun.

Do ignore all the rules.

It was very tiring and a lot of hassle to pack and unpack all the gear by myself. But hey, it was fun.

Warning: whinge coming up

I have a sore throat, mouth ulcers and face ache. My DVD player finally died after being abused by little man, who liked pressing the open/close button. Little man himself only fell asleep at 9.3opm due to teething, heatwave and general midsummer madness. It is hot and I don't expect to sleep very well. I am not enjoying this ruby cabernet, it's too heavy and it's not helping my throat. I just googled glandular fever but I don't think I have it so I don't have an excuse to get lots of sympathy and afternoon naps. There have been kids shrieking at the tops of their voices all evening right outside my house. Because of little man's late night I haven't done any tidying up, even though had I known how late it would be I would have just left him to play and got on with things.

So I'm now going to think up some good stuff that happened today:
1. I got little man back from his daddy.
2. I made little man's botched homemade trousers into cropped trousers, thus hiding some of the cock-up and making him look well cool.
3. I spread the word about babywearing at a post-natal group.
4. Little man and I had our tea/dinner (delete as you like but at 5pm I don't think I can call it dinner) sitting outside on the patio.
5. I got invited to go camping in North Wales.
6. Little man and I got the giggles over the Stroke Henry book.
7. I inspected my salad seedlings and they're coming along nicely; I watered them with little man on my hip about an hour and a half after he should have been asleep.
8. I got three eggs.

Status updates

My status updates on a day without little man.

Janine:

- tried to have a lie-in but woke up at 6.30am with a funny throaty, hay fever, cold-type feeling.

- thinks the first cup of tea in the morning is one of life's simple wonders.

- had a bacon buttie. Because the bacon needed using up, of course.

- painted her toenails.

- discovered a new poet (Mary Oliver) thanks to slugsontherefrigerator.com.

- went to Slingmeet without a baby and tried the secure high back carry with a doll but ended up almost knocking the doll's head off.

- chatted to the Children's Centre lady who came to talk about choosing a nursery and came to the conclusion that nurseries are all part of the consumer capitalist conspiracy.

- saw a temperature reading on the side of a building in Preston that said 24C. And that was in the shade.

- proved to herself what she said a few posts back: the best way to avoid spending money is to avoid going into shops.

- bought herself some new sandals. (Yes I know I'm not consistent with this consumer capitalist hate thing.)

- filled up with petrol as she was on 346 miles since last fill-up and the petrol gauge doesn't work and she has been putting her foot down a bit.

- went to work and knitted some more rows of the first sleeve of the cardigan for little man and felt very hot knitting a chunky cardigan when the office air conditioning seemed close to breakdown due to the heatwave.

- also checked house prices in Runcorn and thinks she might be able to afford a two-bed terrace in need of modernisation if she could persuade anyone to give a mortgage to someone who doesn't have a proper job (and doesn't want one).

- texted STBE husband to see what little man has been up to and was pleased to hear he has been squirting himself with a hosepipe.

- would like to point out that she does actually do some work in between knitting and surfing the net but the nature of the work means you wait around quite a bit (for crap writers to write crap stuff that you then have to rewrite).

- saw a beautiful glowing sun sinking towards the Lancashire coast from the M6.

- got home at 9pm to discover she had left the freezer door slightly ajar at 10 o'clock this morning.

- took a picture of her new sandals before it got too dark and is perplexed at why her camera keeps taking video instead of photos when it's on the photos setting. But it is a several-years-old 4megapixel jobbie that was her STBE husband's before he decided he needed a nice new one.

- put the freezer on boost, warmed up some chilli, threw open the back door and poured herself a glass of wine.

- was disappointed on checking her dating site that noone has sent her a message.

- is listening to the blackbirds saying goodnight.

- should go to bed but doesn't really feel like it when she only got home from work at 9pm.

- really, really wants to go camping.

- is going to watch Robin Hood on iPlayer.

- thinks her long-life bulb's long life might be over.

- wonders if little man's new tooth will have come through yet.

Dappled shade

I was reminded today just how lovely it is to be strolling in the dappled shade of a deciduous woodland on a hot summer's day. A combination of smoke from charcoal making and suncream in my eyes made me quite dreamy. And I got round the slightly muddy paths with little man on my back much easier than my friends with pushchairs did. Ner, ner, ner, ner, ner.

We were at Cuerden Valley Park fair, eating hog roast rolls, chocolate fudge and Mrs Dawson's ice cream. Little man joined in with the Leyland Morris Men and nearly got trampled on. He then tried to steal their sticks when they weren't looking.

Little fella slept right through my knit and natter last night. (In fact he slept til 7.30am. Woohoo.) Not a lot of knitting got done but there was a lot of nattering and a moderate amount of wine supping. Now I'm finishing off all the semi-drunk bottles and munching the leftover nibbles. Yum.

I'm off to put up my tipi in the woods. Preferably some woods containing dangerous outlaws such as Jonas Armstrong. Unfortunately Sherwood Forest would be on the other side of the Pennines. That's the wrong side of the Pennines, by the way. If there's even anything left of Sherwood Forest. Maybe I'll find a small copse closer to home. For a picnic.

The virtue continues

I have finally mopped the downstairs floors! Believe me, they definitely needed it. Little man tends to drop his food overboard when he is fed up with it. And although I wipe round the highchair after each meal, the floor really needed a proper clean. The weather hasn't helped, with lots of wet and muddy comings and goings from both front and back doors. So armed with my new Magic Mop and rediscovered bucket I set to.

Then of course I had to go and lounge in a hot bath for an hour or so while the floors dried so I didn't mess them up again.

I have got other tedious stuff done today too: new front tyres, brakes checked, wheels balanced, library books returned (such a good job they don't charge fines on children's tickets), top with hole in returned to Debenhams, broached subject of wanting to move house with STBE husband...

And the not so tedious: used Yamo for first time, chased little man around library as he pulled books and DVDs from all the carousels, read the Tractor book (ok, that is starting to come under tedious), found the old computer keyboard in the garage for little man to bang on, found some very nice blackcurrant tea in Somerfield.

Life, and all that.

Portababy

It's a good job little man is, well, little. Because he gets carried pretty much every-where. You see, I am addicted to babywearing. I have never got used to using a pushchair. I bought one on eBay just in case. It rattles around in the boot of the car because I have nowhere else to store it. I use it around once or twice a month. It annoys me. I hate having to use both hands to push the damn thing. I hate the contortions necessary to hold open a shop doorway and pull the pushchair up a step while ramming old ladies out of the way. I hate not being able to go for a walk in case the path is too narrow, too bumpy, too muddy, too steep or involves stiles.

But baby slings are an addictive habit. I started off with a Close Baby Carrier, cos it's what I saw on the telly. It was okay until I tried a Tinokis stretchy wrap, which was wonderful while little man was still tiny. I also ended up with two ring slings, one padded, one not, which are useful for quick carries into the shop for a pint of milk. Then I got a Calin Bleu gauze wrap which is nice and light but a bit unforgiving for the beginner wrapper. So I bought an Ellaroo wrap on eBay which was gorgeous but turned out to be a little short. Hmm. Oh and a lovely soft mei tai which had the same problem. And now I'd like a Storchenwiege and a Yamo.

I blame Preston slings group http://www.slingmeet.co.uk/forums/showthread.php?t=3276 for being the only place where I don't feel like the crazy hippy weirdo mum.

Baby nomad

Here are The Trousers. Now moving on....







Little man likes to be on the move. Especially when it is time for a daytime nap. Which means mummy has to be on the move. Not having a nap beside him. This afternoon I spent half an hour sitting quiety reading books with him hoping he might start to doze off. Then I put him in the ring sling and pottered about the house for half an hour, hoping he might start to doze off. All he did was stop me drinking my cup of tea because he wanted to stick his fist in it. I had things to do, things I could do much more easily if he was peacefully asleep. But no, he wasn't having any of it.

I put him in the Yamo, a soft-structured carrier borrowed from Preston sling group. http://www.slingmeet.co.uk/forums/showthread.php?t=3276 I grabbed my keys and left the house. Walking up the road at school run time was not so pleasant so I turned down a track that cuts through fields/wasteground behind my house. Ben dozed off on my back. I looked at the hawthorn blossom in the overgrown hedges and the petals sprinkled over the path. And I thought, hmm, this is nice. And those things I had to do will get done. Eventually.