First, That Car: you know, the Citroen C3. It really is a cool drive and so miserly with fuel you almost get cash back driving it but the boot isn't big enough for our pushchair. And our pushchair isn't big. Last weekend, when we went to Granny's it had to be strapped in next to Charlie. The pushchair, that is. Not Granny.
Premier Family Charging Station told me about it I thought it was the answer to my prayers. And in a way it was. Although you still have to plug in all of the individual 'phone chargers, so it's really only like a glorified extension socket. A bit like asking the Lord for a Mercedes Benz (my friends all have Porches, I must make amends...) and getting sent a Skoda. Or a Citroen C3. Not that's there's anything wrong with Skodas. Or C3's for that matter.
And talking of cars, we've also been trialling a brand new Graco Nautilus 3-in-1 car-seat. Now this really is swish, and as
- it's almost twice the size;
- it weights half as much;
- it lasts three times as long (9 months to 12 years);
- and I'm sure Charlie would tell you (if he could) that it is at least twice as comfortable.
Trouble is, it was so exciting sitting in my 'noo car seeht' last Friday evening (motoring down to granny's - remember?) that he completely forgot to fall asleep. And it looks so good for falling asleep. It reclines and has the most wonderfully cushioned headrest and lovely soft, padded straps. I wish they made one for grown-ups, I really do. Though clearly not for the driver. Oh, and for the record Charlie did fall asleep in it on the way home. And again the other day.
Potty training has begun in earnest this week. We've bought pants, they've been worn with pride ('my noo pants') and the whole thing has been so exciting Charlie's wee'd in them within minutes. But as it's been sunny and warm, we've also been able to go naked in the garden. Well, I haven't: Charlie has. (Well, actually I have but that's another story and one I'm not divulging here.) Anyhoo.... having briefly retreated to the shade of the kitchen the other day I noticed it had suddenly gone rather quiet in the garden. And as any parent knows, quiet is NOT GOOD. So turning from the cricket for a moment I noticed what looked like a dead mouse on the patio, with Charlie (naked, remember) doing a little war-dance and shouting 'go way flies'. I got there just before he started stamping on them - and it - with his feet. Oh, the joys or parenting.
Enjoy Sunday lunch everyone!