Just as I was starting to ponder the possibilities of signing Georgeous up to Mensa, he brought me back down to Earth rather embarrassingly. Master of shape sorting, brilliant at speaking and taking instructions and very good at remembering things we teach him, these are all qualities he amazes us with more each day. He recognises the fact that his Daddy wears glasses and has a beard but he doesn’t seem to have grasped that not every man with these features is his Daddy. As a result, I am learning that a large amount of restaurant waiters appear to possess these features, prompting George to point and shout out Daddy when we are out in restaurants without Rob. The most recent unsuspecting waiter was quick to exclaim “not that I know of!” at Georges declaration. Way to make Mummy look like she puts herself about huh George.
Our home can remain relatively tidy for days. Either due to George playing with the same few toys or the pair of us having so many social engagements we are barely at home long enough to get the toys out. Then there are those days when the house turns into a complete toy war zone. This results in moments for me which are not so much painfully embarrassing but more embarrassingly painful. Just attempting to put my shoes on and leave the house resulted in me hurriedly sitting myself down on the settee to do up my shoes, only to have a huge “ooooooooooo” expel from my mouth as I realised I have plonked my posterior onto a rather uncomfortably large Mummy Pig weeble. Recovering quickly from this and with shoes successfully tied, I ran towards the porch door to grab my bag. Not noticing Georges green transparent ball in the corner near the hinge, resulting in the door only marginally opening as I rushed towards the porch. Consequently the door frame became a painful addition to my face. Toys should maybe come with the sarcastic warning, not for ages 32 and over!
If you haven’t met George then I’ll try to give you an insight into his persona. He is very caring and affectionate, especially with his mummy and daddy, but he has a hint of shyness mixed with overwhelming social awkwardness with everyone else. At home in his own environment though he is such a character and myself and his daddy Rob have an amazingly close bond with him. We have so much silliness in our home. Silly noises, faces, songs, laughing at pop offs and mimicking each other. We try to include manners and acceptable behaviour into our parenting but I often feel at times that whilst Daddy has the upper hand, I appear to have landed myself in the “friend zone”. I love the idea of me and my son growing up to be best friends but I want him to respect my opinions and guidance as his mum. I feel like it’s a thin line and I probably won’t know if I’m on the wrong side of it. I can only do what feels natural and try and be the best mum I want to be. The latest act of friend zoning me is for George to mimic my laughter back at me. This is one thing but the timing of this act seems to occur when I say “No” to him. Consequently I am having to find different ways to ask him not to do things that I deem unacceptable.
Our week this week has ended with a visit to the local steam railway museum where we met Peppa Pig. George was thoroughly star struck. I don’t think he quite anticipated Peppa being larger than his own Mummy and Daddy. He was a big fan of riding on the different types of trains. In particular the minature railway. We sat right at the front, but as the train reached the end of the track and turned around, the train driver disconnected the small train in front of George and turned it around on a turntable before taking it down and connecting it to the rear of the train to go back to where we started. This left George perplexed and he leaned over the back the whole way trying to work out where the train had gone. As we arrived back at the station and got off the train, George walked round to give the back of the train a good inspecting. It was quite fascinating to see him trying to work out how the man had disconnected the train.
Enjoy the rest of your bank holiday. Until next time……….