Dinosaur juice

POD has so many words now. She cracks me up when she talks through what she’s doing, has a third person conversation with her dollies or pretends to read.

Potty training has reached a new level in that all poos resemble a thing – usually a tree, a house or a car. A potty has been added to the list of ‘stuff’ we take out with us due to her refusal to use public toilets. If we’re in the woods, she’ll proudly inform passers by when she’s done a wee, at times following up with “Mummy put it in the bushes”.

Embarrassing Mummy in public has become the norm over the past few days. First there was “Look man I have poo in my hair” after she rolled down a hill. This after I’d congratulated myself on what a great job I’d done removing the green sludge with wipes. Then came “Hello everybody I eating my dinner” when she had nothing but a lolly in her hand.

She was bathed as soon as we arrived home but a trip to the shop was necessary. Over her pyjamas went a cardigan, coat, socks and shoes. You’d never know she was in her pyjamas had she not announced “hello everyone I wearing my pyjamas” while we were in the queue. At the counter she piped up “Mummy why does that girl look like a monster?”. Despite explaining there were no monsters, POD pointed at the girl serving us and said “is she a monster Mummy?”.

Recently POD introduced herself to a parent at a National Trust property as Rosie. It’s not her name, nor is Charlotte which was her second choice. The follow-up was “Mummy has a baby in her tummy”. Having told the parent POD wasn’t called Rosie or Charlotte nor did I have a baby in my tummy all was well again. Until POD passed comment on why this parent’s baby was crawling in mud. Fair point, I’d wondered the same myself although we had already seen it chomping on an acorn.

This week POD has discovered running on a wooden floor in socks is “slipperly”, a Daddy Long Legs is a skinny legged spider and “wedgetables” *allegedly* go with Ravioli. Having commented Daddy smelt of pears, she decided Mummy smelt of apples and she smelt of dinosaurs. Babies smell like soggy socks apparently. As do robots. Strange questions asked have included “where do giants come from?” and “what is grass is made of?” neither of which I got the opportunity to answer!

POD’s also skateboarded across the kitchen floor with Peppa stickers attached to her feet, pretended to be an “eye-packer” [alpaca] and announced at breakfast “a man said in the night I could watch television”. Having told nursery “we have rats at home” , she was asked where the rats came from. Carrots was the reply, rats come from carrots.

The joy of bathtime is POD’s ability to escape or run off at any given moment. This week, I found her sitting in her laundry basket. When asked what she was doing, her response was “I in the washing machine collecting dinosaur juice”.

We’re linking this post up with Actually Mummy’s Wot So Funee? which this week is being hosted by A Mummy Too.