Buggy Baby Boogie*

Today was another exercise in coping really, as it was the first day I'd truly been alone to sort out getting Annie to Kindy and then looking after Michael at home. I eagerly though that it might also bring a chance for me to have a bit of time to myself, but given that Michael woke up at 4am this morning, meaning our whole day started late (i.e. everybody slept a bit longer to compensate), and wailed loudly every time I tried to vacuum whilst he was up (he's not really scared of the vacuum cleaner as such, I think he just doesn't like anything that can drown out the noise he's planning on making), the entire day was pretty much a rush of domestic chores. Even when Michael napped for a full 2 and a half hours in the afternoon, I only managed to get about half an hour of that to myself, after basically vacuuming the entire house, and clearing up breakfast+lunch mess (n.b Weetabix (or 'Weet Bix' as it's called here) left uncleaned for a few hours effectively turns into cement - it also has corners, rather than rounded edges over here...are we so incapable of managing cereal with sharp corners in England? [- And doesn't that sound suspiciously like the intro to one of Carrie's 'articles' in SATC...?]

I felt pretty satisfied with how things went today nonetheless, esp. given Cherie's gratitude for the vacuuming when she got home, and the fact that I'd  just (sort of) warded off another nappy-related crisis, when I stupidly undid Annie's nappy, averted my gaze and hands for a second to get a wipe, only to have her lift her bottom off the change table, with the nappy still half on, and the poo fall onto the table (who knew poo could take such solid, rolling-capable form? Nice). Thankfully I managed a successful clean-up operation (of both Annie and change table), the showering of both children, and almost had a meal ready for them as Cherie walked in the door, meaning I could then get out for a run down to the river. The river at night, incidentally, was truly beautiful, if a little hair-raising at times, thanks to path renovations, faintly unexpected bodies of water, boggy ground, and near-pitch darkness). Considering the news here today has been rife with what can happen to little ones when you take your gaze off them (namely two horrendous stories: the Turkish toddler who was carried up the outside of an escalator and the Aussie baby that fell onto railway tracks, both of which thankfully (and pretty surprisingly) ended well), I think I got off pretty lightly. Those stories on the news did inspire a conversation between Cherie and me this evening about the similar recent news stories here (see end of that 2nd clip), culminating in my assuring her that I would continue to always use the buggy breaks when stopping anywhere (I pretty much do this anyway as it's quite hilly on the walk to Kindy, and, irritatingly, they don't seem particularly keen on pavements in this neighbourhood), stand well back from road crossings, and take note at least, of the buggy 'leash' (a strap with a loop at the end to go around the buggy pusher's hand, that has apparently become mandatory on Oz buggys since aforementioned incidents, though I've never seen Paul or Cherie actually use it). So, suitably frightened into responsible buggy-wielding, I bid you goodnight.

A xx

*This title is reference to a supremely irritating song sung by Cookie Monster's (ailing, at least aurally, judging by her inability to hit pleasant sounding notes) Grandma on the 'Sesame Beginnings' DVD Annie and Michael have. In case you care, 'buggy' in that context means 'bug-like', as in, 'moving like a 'squirmy worm' or 'with ants in your pants (on which note, I found MORE ants on the playhouse this morning. I think they've laid eggs elsewhere...urgh)'' etc, rather than the thing you push kids around in, which is more commonly called a stroller/pram(?) in Oz. Now don't say I never teach you anything! (namely, never to watch the 'Sesame Beginnings: Moving Together' DVD, which, incidentally, stars SJP...how meta...or something).