Sylvia has changed her mind about baths, they are now the devil and she cries as if she is being boiled alive. The water is pleasantly warm, I checked. She also stands up in her cot sobbing if she doesn’t want to go to sleep.
Rose had her cast off today. She was brilliant and behaved fantastically at the hospital. The nurse dug out a hair clip from inside the cast, bad because sticking things down your cast can cause skin damage. When she asked how it got there Rose said ‘The wind blowed it’. Surprising that it was only a hair clip, I was expecting at least sand and ricecake crumbs.
We had Rose’s lovely friend G over today. G spent ages banging away on the piano and howling tunelessly to accompany herself. If anyone else tried to play and sing she put her fingers in her ears. I think she must be a true artist.
Our recent morning routine goes thus;
Between 5 and 6 am, Rose crashes into the room. Jason usher her back to bed. About half an hour later Sylvia wakes up. Rose reappears. Rose tries to get in between Sylvia and parent on both sides, thus sort of surrounding Sylvia in a Rose doughnut.
Sylvia isn’t very relaxing company in the early morning any more, she twists around, sits up, stands on our noses and tries to throw herself off the bed. If a parent is not responding she puts her hand on a face and squeezes your lips experimentally, while sticking her quite sharp thumbnail up your nose.
At some point Rose begins her ‘getting mummy and daddy out of bed’ routine which begins with making loud noises at Sylvia, progresses to jumping up and down on our kneecaps, and escalates to throwing things across the room. All the while Jason and I take turns making limp threats and occasionally chucking her out of the room until the scales tip and it becomes less trouble to get out of bed than to attempt to remain in it. So she wins, every day as a matter of fact.