petite anglaise

October 12, 2006

growing pains

Filed under: Tadpole rearing — bipolarinparis @ 9:31 pm

“Soon, I’m going to grow into a big lady, jus’ like you,” says Tadpole, between forkfuls of rice. “I’m going to be thirty-ten years old – not yet, but in a little while – and then I can be able to touch the lights and the ceiling.” She stretches her arms high above her head to demonstrate. I decide against pointing out that I can’t actually reach the lights or the ceiling at the grand old age of thirty four, not wanting to burst her bubble, and take a sip of lukewarm tea instead.

I wonder what it is that makes my daughter so desperate to grow up. “Stay young!” I want to say. “Enjoy pre-school! Don’t wish your life away.” There are days when I would happily trade places. I could go to the maternelle and spend a day looking at picture books, playing in the kitchen corner, getting kissed by the small Chinese boy who simply won’t leave the girls alone, or drawing pictures with brightly coloured felt tip pens. Instead, I spend hours chasing tax forms, cleaning, buying groceries, procrastinating, feeling guilty about procrastinating or staring at a computer screen and wondering whether I’m writing well. Or not.

“When I’m a lady,” Tadpole continues, “I’m going to touch all your things.” I raise my eyebrows, remembering an altercation which ended in tears earlier when she made off with my bag and all its precious contents. “I’m going to buy something in a shop,” she continues, “and put you in the bath. And put the dryer on. And hang up the clothes.”

Put like this, my life sounds truly fascinating. I suppose Tadpole doesn’t get to see many of the fun things I do, like drinking lots of gin and tonic or dancing to electro, as they invariably happen when she is elsewhere. The result being that I don’t particularly like my life as seen through Tadpole’s eyes. I’ll have to set her straight, one day, when she is all grown up.

“And will you be able to read my bedtime stories when you are thirty-ten?” I enquire.

“No, I don’t know how to read stories, mummy,” Tadpole says, in a tone which makes it quite clear I am an imbecile for even suggesting such a thing. “I’m not grown up like a lady yet, but I’m going to eat rice and peas mixed up together and that makes me grow quicker and mucher bigger like you. So I’ll grow a bit soon, in two holidays. After the weekend, and Christmas. Tomorrow. That’s going to take two months so we have to wait a minute!”

I am left hoping that she will grow up soon enough to catch my head when it falls off, and to drive me to casualty to have it stitched back on again.

75 Comments

  1. Isn’t time a lovely thing when you’re still young and don’t spend most of it worrying about not having enough of it? Tadpole is amazing!

    Comment by LaiLou — October 12, 2006 @ 9:56 pm

  2. Puh-lease don’t let her grow up too soon, Petite!

    She is already grown up enough wanting to eat vegetables (peas) mixed with rice.

    Comment by Lost in France — October 12, 2006 @ 10:02 pm

  3. So cute!!!

    Comment by Sarah — October 12, 2006 @ 10:06 pm

  4. What to grow up for, delighful. I try to remember what I wanted to grow up for when I was her age and cannot remember it. She will be lucky to have you chronicking it.

    Comment by Maya — October 12, 2006 @ 10:07 pm

  5. I’m always amaized how much we underestimated the ability of children to put information together and find us out when we thing we’ll get it over their heads.

    There will come a time when she wishes she weren’t thirty-ten, sitting in a cubicle somewhere. Hopefully not, she sounds too smart for our daily crap.

    Comment by Cosi Fan Tutte — October 12, 2006 @ 10:12 pm

  6. So I’ll grow a bit soon, in two holidays. After the weekend, and Christmas. Tomorrow. That’s going to take two months so we have to wait a minute!

    Heeeeeelp!!!
    Classic stuff from Tadpole! :-)

    Comment by Iain — October 12, 2006 @ 10:16 pm

  7. Hilarious! OMIGOD, I must remember not to indulge in your exceptional blog at work as I lack any skills at concealing my laughter. Your gift in writing truly renders your daughter as quite the cartoon character that has the wonderous power to transcend cyberspace and most pleasantly grasp at one’s heart! I’m loving her charm offensive! Such originality you have—please continue to brighten our days with daily doses of your well-chronicled time in the City of Lights. Cheers!

    Comment by Dante Marogue — October 12, 2006 @ 10:59 pm

  8. Thirty-ten – the pc way to refer to someone in their forties.

    Something of a politician about that toddler…!

    Comment by Brocade — October 12, 2006 @ 11:11 pm

  9. I hope you don’t think I was referring to you as being older than you are, Petite.

    Think I’m digging myself a hole here.

    Must stop typing.

    Comment by Brocade — October 12, 2006 @ 11:13 pm

  10. ah bless!

    not much more to be said – Tadpole’s far more eloquent than I can hope to be!

    Comment by sas — October 12, 2006 @ 11:38 pm

  11. so, is “thirty-ten” the literal translation from french? and i hope this doesn’t mean that tadpole thinks YOU’RE thirty-ten (e.g., 40).

    Comment by franko — October 13, 2006 @ 12:02 am

  12. I, too, was interested in growing up. I asked my mother (5’2″) when I was about 5 if I’d have to live in my own house once I was taller than she was! Thankfully (I towered over her by 14) I wasn’t required to live in my own house until after college. I remember clearly wanting to be a teacher so I could a) write on the blackboard and b) have lots of papers to shuffle and stack.

    I love reading about Tadpole – she sounds a shrewd judge of character and a wit!

    Comment by molly — October 13, 2006 @ 12:15 am

  13. Are you really in your forties??

    Bloody hell!

    A free man in preston’s comments revealed an obsession about you/jk rowling and frankly neither of you look 40!

    Oh and he reads me I have just discovered. You may not care but i am *proud*!

    Comment by Billygean — October 13, 2006 @ 12:17 am

  14. Get used to it. I have daily conversations with my Favourite Daughter of such a nature, all of which leave her with the impression that I am a fool.

    I don’t know how old Tad is, but that was lovely.

    Comment by Tired Dad — October 13, 2006 @ 12:20 am

  15. Brilliant. The last two sentences being the best.

    My four-year-old “When I’m a grown-up and you’re a child, I will make you toast.”

    Comment by Clare — October 13, 2006 @ 12:26 am

  16. Bonjour Petite,

    That’s great. I remember thinking how fun it would be when I could right checks to pay for things. If I had only known.

    Thanks for sharing.

    Comment by Mad William — October 13, 2006 @ 12:45 am

  17. ask her after two holidays why she is not significantly bigger. i’d love to know what her reply to that would be. but with kids, she’d probably forget she said that and would think ‘mummy’s talking rubbish.’

    Comment by epikuryooz — October 13, 2006 @ 12:47 am

  18. Hey Petite,

    This is the first time I’ve stumbled across your blog in person, although half of what attracted me to it was hearing about it over the last few months from the BBC and others.

    Tadpole sounds absolutly adorable! You must be so proud of her. I’d love a daughter one day, although I suspect not for a few years yet. I’ll be a lucky guy indeed if she is ever half as wonderful as your little sprog sounds.

    Lets hope she doesn’t grow up too quickly!

    Comment by Ignorminious — October 13, 2006 @ 12:57 am

  19. my parents used to muse that i was four going on thirty, i imagine because i had many similar musings about what exactly i intended to do once i was grown.

    once, as my mother was trying to coax me into the tub, she asked if i didn’t want to be a big girl and grow up to be big like her. i immediately burst into tears and huffed that i wanted to be *bigger* than her. she was terribly offended – i don’t know if either of us is sure if i meant literally (she is shy of five feet) or otherwise. i think that offense has been the core of our relationship ever since.

    Comment by s — October 13, 2006 @ 1:11 am

  20. Nice one petite and you’re writing’s fine. Was thinking about how you miss that 9.00am chat at work. Have you thought about teaching English again for a couple of days to keep you involved who knows le monsieur could be there.
    By the way has your sister got your skin and is she single.

    Comment by Craig — October 13, 2006 @ 2:00 am

  21. She talks like my sister!

    Comment by Julie — October 13, 2006 @ 3:06 am

  22. Your wee-one is simply adorable, I love peeking in and reading all about the two of you and your adventures in growing up!! Cheers!

    Comment by sssarahevt — October 13, 2006 @ 3:52 am

  23. They say time doesn’t really exist, and seen through Tadpole’s eyes it’s very clear that’s true! Since she’s growing a bit “soon”, “after two holidays”, “after the weekend, and Christmas”, “tomorrow”, but it’s going to “take two months” so let’s wait a “minute”.

    How you managed to keep a straight face is beyond me.

    Comment by The Bold Soul — October 13, 2006 @ 4:14 am

  24. Rice and peas huh? E likes peas, maybe it’s time to change her over to corn.

    Comment by joeinvegas — October 13, 2006 @ 4:43 am

  25. Aagh
    The first stages of realism; they realise that they will grow older, but not yet that you will also be aging at same rate, to Tadpole at the moment your age is ‘figé’. Sweet. Next step is realising that you will grow old too and announcing your positively geriatric 3? age to everyone, especially cute men, and at times equally embarrassing asking everyone how old they are. The next step for my daughter was gender and realising the difference between men and women, she then proceeded to ask most men she met how big their willies were – the vicar just smiled but it nearly caused a broken engagement when my dearest told my SIL that future BIL had a BIG one – hope for your sake that Tadpole is more restrained.

    Comment by j — October 13, 2006 @ 6:16 am

  26. Don’t worry, Petite. I’ll be sure, when she’s old enough to download, to send her pictures from your nights out. Wouldn’t want her to have a skewed view…

    Comment by Meg — October 13, 2006 @ 8:03 am

  27. Hi,
    how about you? When you where a child you where absolutely content beeing a child? Or now, it’s all o.k. how it is? Isn’t it just normal for any human beeing to alsway desperately want what you don’t have? An old german saying is “The cherries in neighbours garden are always better”. Or i remember a german painter and poet, Wilhelm Busch. He once painted a scene of a man taking a walk in a wonderful scene, using a looking glass to look at other locations. Together with this scene where the words:
    “Schön ist es auch anderswo,
    und hier bin ich sowieso.”
    (Other places are beautiful, too,
    and here i just am.)

    Comment by Siegfried — October 13, 2006 @ 8:49 am

  28. I AM NOT THIRTY-TEN, PEOPLE! There is a reason why you see a link in the sidebar to thirty-FOUR things, you know.

    Comment by petite — October 13, 2006 @ 8:50 am

  29. Haha, great post! I love the way kids that age take what you say to them and throw it back at you. my oldest son now says to me whenever we go anywhere, “As quick as you can Mummy, or we’re going to be late”. Says a lot for my punctuality! Hope you’re still blogging when you’re thirty-ten, would love to hear what she’ll be saying when she’s a teenager…

    Just out of curiosity petite (again!) do you ever worry that when she’s older she’ll read some of your more, er, risqué posts and you’ll suddenly lose the authority to say “no” to anything she wants to do? E.g. drinking gins and tonics (or whatever the plural is), clubbing, having a *cough* ‘special friend’? Because the inevitable response will be, “but you did it when you were younger Mummy, why can’t I?” I’ve hidden a whole load of incriminating photos of a younger me – can’t quite bring myself to destroy them – for just that reason. Me waving beer and other naughty things at a festival, me with various different unnatural colours in my hair, piercings… eeek. Would have been OK in Britain, but they’re so much more conservative here. Or will it be OK for Tadpole to do the same things you did? make the same mistakes? No hypocrisy for petite? Very brave if so.

    Comment by suziboo — October 13, 2006 @ 9:07 am

  30. Gosh. Good question. Who knows what will be acceptable by the time she makes it into her teens. I’d have no problem with her doing as I did – I was a late starter for just about everything – but no doubt I’ll have to confront some of those issues rather earlier.

    My own mother still berates me if I confess to feeling a little worse for wear on a weekend morning…

    Comment by petite — October 13, 2006 @ 9:23 am

  31. Great post, Petite. I’m going to start referring to myself as being ‘Twenty-ten’, as it sounds so much better than being 30. A future in PR, or as a spindoctor, for Tadpole perhaps?

    Comment by Polly Poppet — October 13, 2006 @ 9:41 am

  32. I wonder how she came up with “thirty-ten”. Tadpole has such a smart character!

    By the way, I heard the NaNoWriteMo ( http://www.nanowrimo.org/ ) is opened to registration now. Maybe you should give it a try just for fun ;-)

    Comment by Sophie — October 13, 2006 @ 9:52 am

  33. A few years ago when my 11 year old daughter was 4 and my son 6, God knows how but the conversation got around to, not just having babies but how to stop having babies. My husband was safe behind a newspaper, leaving me to explain things. We discussed a man wearing a sort of plastic bag on his willy to stop the sperm kissing the egg etc etc. My daughter asked what she could do, so I explained the pill and how it stopped the egg coming down etc. All was quiet. Aha, I thought, they’ve got it. Then my daughter piped up, “Does that mean if I take that pill thing I’ll be filled up with sperm?” My poor darling girl, alas, yes..

    Comment by Welsh Cake — October 13, 2006 @ 10:58 am

  34. soo lovely scene and script:)

    Comment by hera — October 13, 2006 @ 11:13 am

  35. Enjoying your blog as always, petite. On a sidenote, I usually link from here to Andre’s, and would like to point out you need to update your link to him (adding “/blog” at the end does the trick for me). You might find the time to do it after Christmas – in two minutes – if we wait long enough for procrastination?

    Comment by V. — October 13, 2006 @ 11:32 am

  36. “I’m going to buy something in a shop,” she continues, “and put you in the bath. And put the dryer on. And hang up the clothes.”
    Convince her to start ASAP! Try and relieve the stress from your own life.

    Comment by Hywel Mallett — October 13, 2006 @ 11:48 am

  37. I got a shock, a trauma even! when at the age of four I realised that there was such a thing as “growing up”. That’s when my mother said “quand j’étais petite…” this introduced me brutally into the notion of time. I don’t know how Einstein got his? I thought I was the little girl for all eternity and never fully adopted this idea of becoming an adult person! I suppose thirty-sixteen sounds quite young…

    Already an “intello” Tadpole, must be ‘le côté grenouille’!

    Comment by Barbadilla — October 13, 2006 @ 1:13 pm

  38. my mum loves to tell strangers that when i was young, about 6 i think, i once said that when i was all grown up i would be a doctor. i would travel a lot helping people and she would live in a caravan that i would tow along with me wherever i went.

    Comment by kim — October 13, 2006 @ 1:41 pm

  39. Nice and strange. A kind of “Tadpole in Petiteland” (miroir mon beau miroir…). At 3 they definitely don’t need gin and tonic and electro pop. Just hanging up clothes is truly exciting. I’ll remember that once adult.

    Comment by 4 roses — October 13, 2006 @ 1:56 pm

  40. Woo Hoo! Just heard you on You & Yours on BBC Radio 4.

    Comment by Clare in France — October 13, 2006 @ 1:56 pm

  41. You wondered what it is that makes Tadpole want to grow up so quickly. You answered the question as your post progressed. She wants to be just like you.

    Comment by Polly — October 13, 2006 @ 2:35 pm

  42. I think she does, you are right, god help her, she’s always asking me when her hair will grow long like mummy’s, and was very upset when it dried yesterday after her bath, and the curls bounced up and made it shorter again.

    Comment by petite — October 13, 2006 @ 3:15 pm

  43. Is Tadpole going to be introduced to hair straighteners from an early age then?

    Comment by Hywel Mallett — October 13, 2006 @ 3:39 pm

  44. I’m very sorry, I think I may need help. Too many horror movies probably. I read …

    “I’m going to buy something in a shop,” she continues, “and put you in the bath. And put the dryer on. And ……”

    …. drop it in the water. I was worried she may say!

    “…. hang up the clothes”

    phew

    Comment by T Roger — October 13, 2006 @ 5:06 pm

  45. all kids think they want to grow up. and tadpole is no exception! its so cute (and i agree with you – u just want to say ‘don’t grow up so fast, enjoy it’) but we were the same, we couldn’t wait to grow up and now we wish we had enjoyed our youth more =)

    Comment by Elizabeth — October 13, 2006 @ 5:17 pm

  46. Lovely! ;-)

    Comment by fjl — October 13, 2006 @ 5:47 pm

  47. If your blog posts are anything to go by – you’re as sharp as ever. Don’t worry – you’re actually living the life many of us dream about! a) exotic location (even though you may be hanging up washing in an exotic location, it’s exotic nonetheless), um, b)you get to write!on a laptop!(I hope you got the nerdtastic Mac!) c) you get to write!on a laptop!in trendy pavement cafe’s! d)you have a book deal! WOW. For me, personally I’d like the Mac AND the book deal. I already have a ‘tadpole’ of my own, more of a mini-haggis if we’re using country related food based metaphors. Hmm does one spell metaphor with a ph or an f? I can never remember. Darnit.

    Comment by Valkyrie — October 13, 2006 @ 7:36 pm

  48. Wonderful post, petite! Such a darlin’ Tadpole. Oh, to be thirty-ten again! ;)

    Comment by Sophmom — October 13, 2006 @ 7:45 pm

  49. That was such a lovely piece, I really needed to read something light and fluffy.

    Having spent the evening with my boys who were “helping me tile the kitchen,” and so tested me within an inch of sanity. I needed to read about the lighter side of life!

    While playing with the tile cutter, my 3 year old casually said “Mummy, your hair is not as hard as before, did you wash it? Why does it stick up like that when you are working? Don’t worry I’II ask Inaki’s mom, she tidies peoples hair in the shopping center. She can make you look like a rock star” and strolled off.

    I look forward to being a rock star! And hope my patience lasts that long!

    To switch off and read such a delightful piece reminding the merits of ever having children! Keep up the great work! Lisa

    Comment by Lisa — October 13, 2006 @ 10:44 pm

  50. soooo hilarious! This kind of writing just makes my week.

    Valkyrie: a ‘tadpole’ is not a food item!! So funny. =D

    Comment by eric — October 13, 2006 @ 10:46 pm

  51. Growing up… I just took my 10 year old to the doctor and the doctor says, well, well, someone is turning into a “pré-ado”.. 4 cm in 2 months, torso filling out, etc. And then, the doctor sends me out in order to have “a talk” with my son… surely about willies and morning stiffers and what not… no, they don’t stay little forever…

    Comment by magillicuddy — October 13, 2006 @ 11:09 pm

  52. I’m sure Tadpole will always look after her lovely mum.

    Comment by AussieGil — October 13, 2006 @ 11:46 pm

  53. Your ear for her childlike ramblings is better than true. It’s inspired. Lucky you, to have your muse in T-pole.
    And don’t fret about her growing up, she’s ahead of you already, it’s YOU who mustn’t grow up!

    Comment by andrew — October 14, 2006 @ 12:17 am

  54. Reference to comment v: glad you mentioned the links -as to the procrastination (there must be I believe book deal forgiveness). However could I ad Petite I thought I’d try one of the other blogs suggested by yourself and tried the little red boat. what’s your view of this blog?

    Comment by Craig — October 14, 2006 @ 3:03 am

  55. C’est difficile, je sais, d’échapper au modèle Bridget Jones et à ses fans, mais j’aimerais tellement que vous aidiez vos lecteurs (dont je suis) à élever leur propre niveau.
    Avec moi, ça marche, grâce à vous mon anglais progresse, alors pourquoi pas ajouter du fond à la forme, quelques idées un peu plus incorrectes (subversives?), un peu moins tendance, vous avez les bons outils pour décoller et du carburant pour aller loin, j’ai mon billet, alors en route pour les étoiles

    Comment by JPS — October 14, 2006 @ 10:10 am

  56. You seem to get a lot of “nice” people commenting on your blog. Do you get any nasties? Or do you just delete them? I find it amazing what some people think is O.K. to leave as a comment. Especially when they comment on the pictures of my wife and child. But I won’t take the photos down because that’s what blogging is all about isn’t it – sharing your life with others? And how many blogs does Technorati track now? 55 Million isn’t it? And that’s only what they track. Mind-boggling don’t you think?
    That little tadpole’s a cutie. (Thanks for the traffic BTW. 50 of your fans have come to check out my vid – the full version of which I’m hoping to load tonight – Wanadoo and my server willing! Bisous.

    Comment by Les Miserable — October 14, 2006 @ 2:42 pm

  57. on top of her list of 34 things, she plainly states her own age in the post itself!

    “rice. “I’m going to be thirty-ten years old – not yet, but in a little while – and then I can be able to touch the lights and the ceiling.” She stretches her arms high above her head to demonstrate. I decide against pointing out that I can’t actually reach the lights or the ceiling at the grand old age of thirty four, not wanting to burst her bubble, and take a sip of lukewarm tea instead.”

    It’s so nice to see that being a mom is the same round the world. Unique in each situation, as are the children, but still the same feelings on mom’s part. For all of your doubts, frustrations, and joys, as long as you love them madly, it’s really difficult to muck it up. I think tadpole is one lucky little lady and will be a far more interesting person for the mere fact YOU are her mom. Congratulations on all petite. Your new home, your new life, your old life, your friends and family, and your new celebrity. You know, your parents spent the same moments with you, just like tadpole. Can you imagine the pride you will feel in her? that I’m sure they feel for you now? Tadpole WILL grow up. She will be every ounce as fantastic as you.

    Comment by beaunejewels — October 14, 2006 @ 5:27 pm

  58. Hello, Heard about you on the Radio 4 programme – yesterday – thought the programme went well – what do you think – this is my first blog visit so apologies if I’ve got it wrong

    Enjoyed what I’ve read so far – good fun!

    Richard

    Comment by richard — October 14, 2006 @ 5:46 pm

  59. Hi Richard, welcome..

    I felt a bit odd on the Radio Four thing – it was about diaries, rather than blogs, and proper personal diaries which are not written for an audience are quite different, I think, so I felt a bit surplus to requirements alongside Tony Benn et al. But interesting all the same…

    (Link to programme on the press page)

    Comment by petite — October 14, 2006 @ 6:02 pm

  60. Small children are not in awe of English grammar. All they know is that language exists in order to allow communication to happen – hence “thirty-ten”. I remember my own daughter – when she was little – she invented the word “willn’t” for “will not”. It makes sense to me.

    Comment by Yorkshire Pudding — October 14, 2006 @ 6:30 pm

  61. petite? thanks so much if you saved me from repeating my last comment 75 thousand times. From what I could see, the submit button was not responding. I’m positive I clicked it the ENTIRE 75,000 times, and I apologize if it caused you any trouble. I have a friend who always says to me,,,,Au revoir mon petite chou, which is rather funny as I’m quite fat. You are a bit like a petite chou though. Aw damn it, does it mean she thought I was a bit smelly as well?

    Comment by beaunejewels — October 14, 2006 @ 8:06 pm

  62. Also, in French seventy is soixante dix (effectively sixty-ten), and the same happens with ninety while eighty is four-twenty. Some people use “septante”, “octante” and “nonante” for 60, 70 and 80, but are mostly Swiss or Belgian (as far as I know).

    Comment by Pierre L — October 14, 2006 @ 8:17 pm

  63. Aww that is so sweet! How old is she now?

    And in response to “wondering whether I’m writing well. Or not.” you are most definately writing well.

    Comment by Whisper — October 14, 2006 @ 9:38 pm

  64. Ha ha! This really reminds me of a conversation I had last week with a child I teach.’Miss, I don’t think I’d like being you’ ‘Why’s that’ ‘ it must be really really boring’ ‘What do you think I do when I’m not teaching you?’ ‘I reckon you read a lot and then go on the computer, I think sometimes you go to the pub and then you come home and lie down, coz you’re exhausted, and maybe drunk’ Spot on he was.

    Comment by sammi — October 14, 2006 @ 11:21 pm

  65. You are writing very well — and I’m picky.

    Comment by Susan — October 15, 2006 @ 3:14 am

  66. I apologize for the irrelevance of this comment, but I just REALLY wanted to leave my two cents! (If you haven’t already bought a new laptop)

    But anyway, I’ve had a PowerBook G4 for over 2 years and it runs just as well now as it the first day I turned it on. All of my friends who use Macs have had no problems. My one friend has spilled water, and even beer, on her computer, and after it dries, it runs again, as if nothing had happened. My sister also just got a Mac after being a staunch PC user for several years. She finally gave up when, no matte how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her PC to boot back up. For the people who say that Microsoft Word/Excel/etc. don’t run as well on this computer…I don’t know what they’re talking about. It runs just fine!

    It may be a bit weird at first, but seriously, if you generally know what you’re doing on a computer, you’ll figure out the Mac very quickly. (The MacBooks come with remote controls too, btw — it’s so cool! You can play movies, listen to music, and do some other things I can no longer remember from a bit of a distance! I don’t know how useful that will be, but it’s cool!)

    But, if you decide to get a PC, I say — don’t go for the Vaio. Unfortunately, I have no alternate PC to suggest. My parents had a Dell and it developed problems as soon as the 1-year warranty ran out. My sister and I had Toshibas, and those too died in a little over a year. My friend has an Acer and that just has all sorts of problems.

    Comment by Angie — October 15, 2006 @ 3:18 am

  67. to yorkshire pudding, how true! and its fun when kids make up their own words. my parents laugh about how when i was younger i used the term poo poo balloon coz i didn’t know what to call a fart. hehe

    Comment by kim — October 15, 2006 @ 3:45 am

  68. Am I the only one to get a whiff of a sinister undertone here. I mean this bit about hairdryers and the bath when you are an old lady. And then going away to hang the clothes up. Eeek!
    Maybe I read it to quick……

    Comment by meredic — October 15, 2006 @ 10:51 am

  69. At least she’s eating sensibly. That’s an achievement in itself.
    x

    Comment by Emma — October 15, 2006 @ 1:08 pm

  70. This is the only post I dont mind reading in any tone of voice.

    “I am left hoping that she will grow up soon enough to catch my head when it falls off, and to drive me to casualty to have it stitched back on again”

    what a great way to put it.. I really loved this lines.. a great poem in total..shook me to the bone!

    a salute

    Comment by F.J — October 16, 2006 @ 3:34 am

  71. She sounds very sweet, they do say funny things though.

    Comment by heather — October 16, 2006 @ 7:05 pm

  72. Comment 28. Petite 30/10 not so different from 30/4

    ahahahah! ;o)

    Comment by simon — October 17, 2006 @ 6:53 am

  73. So was it you or Tadpole who ended up in tears after the bag incident? You ladies and your bags…

    Comment by Huw — October 17, 2006 @ 11:21 am

  74. Your kids keep you grounded. My son said to my wife:

    Today we learnt in school that everybody has a brain!

    ..even you Mummy!

    Comment by Hilary — October 17, 2006 @ 1:15 pm

  75. no need to buy taddy a (grown up) watch – she seems to have time all sorted out. you may not think your life, as viewed by her, is very thrilling … but she clearly does! (she probably wouldn’t go for the whole gin drinking thing anyway)

    Comment by mad muthas — October 17, 2006 @ 9:40 pm


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