Toddler On Board

I'm thinking of getting on of those TODDLER ON BOARD signs for the car.

I've never liked them, thinking that they were a little sanctimonious, as though if you don't have a child in the car, you're fair game.

But maybe I had it wrong: maybe it was warning you that they have a toddler on board, and as such are a moving time bomb. It's a warning to you that are going to be distracted.

TODDLER ON BOARD: I'm going to be passing sweeties and biscuits over my shoulder whilst driving through traffic.

TODDLER ON BOARD: I shall be driving whilst reading a map to a soft play centre on my knees and trying to plug in the portable DVD player to GET SOME FRIKKIN PEACE for two seconds.

TODDLER ON BOARD: In the last 15 minutes I have answered 175 questions and been told 56 times that she saw a dog. If you know your Louis CK, you'll know Why?

TODDLER ON BOARD: Having tried to keep my child engaged in the boredom of car travel, I taught her what the lights mean. I now run red lights to avoid ever again hearing the words, shouted with ear splitting urgency:  Stop Daddy! Red means Stop!

Never thought of it like that, until yesterday.

Driving in Argentina is famously dangerous, and I'm not going to add to the endless discussions now. All I'm saying is that you need to keep your wits about you, at all times.

If you'd passed Leah and I yesterday, at around 3pm, you would have seen our car inexplicably swerve, nearly crashing into the ongoing traffic.

To defend myself: I wasn't on the phone, I wasn't changing a CD, or falling asleep, or checking a map, or playing Toy Story 3 or anything else. I was focusing on the road, trying to get us home safe.

I nearly crashed because I was laughing my a** off. And, possibly, checking myself in the mirror.

Because, after a blessed silence whereupon I assumed Leah had fallen asleep, I had just heard the following.  

- Daddy?
- Yes, little one?

Pause, apparently for thought. 


- You have big funny ears. Big funny ears like a piggy.

Swimming for Slimming

Saturday mornings, we try to get Maia's beach body in shape at swimming classes. Leah was kinda round when she was the same age, but lost the puppy fat as soon as she started crawling.

Maia's crawling now too, but uses this form of transport only to source food, like a pig snuffling for truffles. As one chin piles upon the next, she's gone from looking unbelievably cute to looking like a fat duck in 4 weeks. 

Good balast in the water, mind.

Katie's fine, by the way. One looking at the photos I imagine you might be worried, but she neither physically nor mentally unsound: you have to wear a swimming cap in the pool, and having forgotten hers for the 4th week in a row, was too embarrassed to borrow one again, so wore... Leah's. 

Which wasn't embarrassing at all.      

Katie, looking tops in Leah's swimming cap, points towards the camera, but Maia is lost
either in the memory of breakfast, or in the daydream of the post-swimming snack.  

It was all fun and games until we realised Maia had
eaten the 'missing' floation ball.   

The teacher uses her training to locate the missing ball.
"¡Está adentro de la panza famosa de Maia!" she cries. 

Using Zen Buddhism, and the distraction of an awesome hat, Katie calms Maia...

... and with great skill, administers the baby Heimlich manuevre! 

Y aca está! There it is...   

Seriously, I wasn't allowed to use the embarrassing swimwear photos. Imagine... 

Day 9

This is absolutely rubbish.

The booze is not that much of a problem.

The sugar I can just about live without: having run on staff room biscuits and cake for nigh on a decade, I'm not saying it's easy, and 'nuts and raisins' are no kind of replacement, but I'm still standing.

But here's the straw that is likely to get this camel on to smack.

Caffeine has gone as well.

Apparently it's a stimulant and not, as I'd thought, 'medicinal' - and so I've had a headache since Friday. Yeah, I'm not in the Renton Cold Turkey state yet, but give it another couple of days and I'll be watching a nightmarish Maia crawling on the ceiling...

30 days

Loughborough 2:2 with Hons

I've given up both booze and sugar for a month. I'm 48 hours in and doing fine so far, thanks for asking.

The month of May. 31 days. Should have chosen February.

You'd think a skim read of this would help, but it just made me thirsty, especially the video. At a rough estimate this will have been the longest I've gone without a drink since the early 90s... cherub... and the longest without sugar since the early 80s... and about the only way I can see myself getting through it is by publicising the event, followed by gratuitous self-congratulations.

And yeah, I know, people wean themselves away from much harder substances, like crack and cocaine and caffeine and child care, but we all live in our own reality, and mine is a beer and biscuits free existence for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, the countdown begins. Off to mix myself a water with a slice of lemon.

Maia's 1st Birthday

Sunday was Maia's first birthday. Following a little breakfast and coffee by the river, we had post siesta birthday lunch, balloons, cake and presents. Here's the day in pictures and videos:

Leah, crashing her sister's siesta... 

What a gorgeous day.

Beautiful Argentina Skies

Relaxing on the balcony the other afternoon. Photo op with beautiful skies. Click to enlarge

Leah's 3rd Birthday

Leah's birthday. Little party at her wonderful jardín, Construir, with sus amigitos.

Feliz cumpleaños.


Then the real business. Cake. Twenty minutes later sitting at the head of an empty table was Leah, quietly working her way through every last crumb.



And finally, a little story, with a little visitor.



Y ya está. Hope you enjoyed.