A Bite for a Roar

We've recently been going to a parent-and-child group at a Steiner-Waldorf nursery near us and I absolutely love it there; it's quite unlike the other Crazyfests R Us groups we go to on other days. I think the calm, peaceful environment and approach to childcare suits me and seems to benefit Felix greatly.

However, the peace is sometimes shattered by the following image....

Felix on one side of a toy, a little girl called Freya on the other, both pulling with all their might. Felix begins to do the 'mad, staring eyes, bright-red face, screech of death' act and then Freya lunges at him teeth-first once it's clear that this misleadingly angelic-looking pitbull of a boy is...not...going...to...let...GOOOOOOOOO!!

...all this happens in a matter of seconds before the lady who runs the group swoops in, calms them down, ends the argument and has them sitting happily together, chatting toddler nonsense and carrying on like no one's just tried to take anyone's arm off using only their nashers.

Yeah, I know it will all kick off again in a few minutes and there'll be bawling from one and the other will go off and hide in the corner because they're fed up...but that's Toddlerland for you. At least in this place I get fed organic fruit and I'm being taught to sew without hating it and wanting to stick the damned needle in the damned witch of a teacher's arm. See, it's therapy for us both.

Mind Your Felish!

We went to 'Wake up Daddy!' this morning and Felix did his usual bouncing on the bed and then wanted to be tucked up so he could pretend to sleep. He'd snuggled himself under the duvet and Rob noted, 'Aaaah, I see The Claw has made it into the bedroom'.

A quick explanation is needed: The Claw is a small teddy bear that Rob won in a machine in a service station and gave to Felix. He used a metal claw to pick it up, hence the name.

Rob threw the teddy onto the bed next to Felix: 'It's THE CLAW!' Felix turned, pointed at the bear's nose and said, 'Cock'. We fell about laughing and then Rob told him: 'It's called Claw, Felix'.

The following exchange between Father and son then took place:

'Cock'
'Claw'
'Cock!'
'Claw!'
'COCK!'
'CLAW!'
'COCK! COCK! COCK!'

I was no help whatsoever because I was trying not to choke with hilarity. The whole episode ended with Felix merrily prancing around the bed singing, 'Cock, cock, cock!'

The Claw will not be accompanying us to Playgroup today.

Patronise Me At Your Peril

A snippet of conversation from this morning, upon the presence of a certain, distinctive aroma in the room:

Me: Felix, do you need your nappy changed?

Felix: (Shakes head) No

Me: But have you done a poo?

Felix: (sing-song voice) No, no, noooooooooo!

Me: I think we need to go and change your nappy. Felix help Mummy?

Felix: (Picks up phone and opens it) Busy

Me: Well, you can take your phone with you and use it while you change your nappy, if you like

Felix: (Sing-song voice) Busyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

***

When we went to the park later on, Felix was rapidly adopted by two girls of about eight and ten. They instantly fell for his cherubic appearance and wanted desperately to lead him around like a little pet. They hadn’t reckoned on the obdurate nature of Fascist Boy.

Eventually, he condescended to accompany them over to the swings and the girls sat on the two ‘big’ swings while he sat happily next to them on the ‘baby’ swings. They continually referred to him as ‘the baby’ and I could see his displeasure increasing until he finally exclaimed, with as much dignity as he could muster, ‘No, no. I NOT a bady!’. To which I could only add, ‘That told you’.

Fascist Boy Rides Again

Less than half an hour after getting up this morning, His Majesty was demanding I put Jungle Boogie (his favourite song) on and dance around the living room, shaking a tambourine.

I hadn't even had time to drink my tea yet. This is definitely not in my contract.

***

Later on, when getting ready to go out, he was goose stepping with an uproarious CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP! up and down the hall, shouting, 'PARK! PARK! PARK!'

It was pretty early, especially for a Saturday, and so I gently drew him aside and tentatively suggested, 'Felix, people are still sleeping, can you use your quiet voice?' He willingly obliged and started whispering, 'Park, park park'...




...while goosestepping with an uproarious CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP! up and down the hall.

Mother, Know Your Place!

Yesterday, while I was preparing lunch, Felix and Rob were playing a silly game in the kitchen. The game involved running to one side of the room, bumping into the wall with their tummies and shouting, ‘Duff!’ I was washing some things up and Rob said, ‘Mummy do it!’, so I obliged by trotting into the wall, abdomen first but Felix started to shake his head. ‘No, no no’, he said and led me by the hand back over to the sink. That told me.

There are Limits, You Know

Upon being encouraged to go upstairs for his nap today, Felix espied a little creature crawling along the hall by the kitchen and sat down next to it. ‘Bussydah!’ he exclaimed with a big smile, using the name he applies to every insect. ‘Yes, Felix! That’s called a woodlouse. It’s probably hungry and wants some lunch’, I suggested. ‘Kitchen!’ he said triumphantly and pointed the way for the hapless thing. 

He then looked up at the draining board and noticed his Thomas the Tank Engine bowl. With a worried expression he said, ‘Tommy...?’. ‘Don’t worry’, I assured him, ‘I don’t think woodlice like to eat out of Thomas bowls. He’ll leave it well alone, I’m sure’. He nodded and, with a look of satisfaction, got up and started to climb the stairs to bed.

This Weekend, on Felixvision...

• Rob’s face has been denounced as a ‘mess’ and his behaviour repeatedly regarded as ‘silly’ 

• The laptop has been upgraded to ‘robot’ status 

            Me: ‘Why is he calling it a robot?’ 

            Rob: ‘Because it has buttons.’

            Me: ‘Of course.’ 

            Felix: ‘Of course!’

• The bicydidor has been boringified to ‘bicycle’

• Felix has admitted to being ‘tifficult’ when I’m trying to change his nappy 

• Rob made the stunning observation that if his Mother drove an emergency fruit Felix would doubtlessly call it ‘Nanna’s Neenaa Nana’

...and that’s what you’ve missed during the three days in which I couldn't be arsed to write any blog entries. I’ll pull my socks up.