Leila Rose Petal

Dear Princess Petalpants Snotbucket,

You are 16 months old and I haven’t been updating your blog anything like often enough. Your mother has always been absent-minded but these days her head is like a sieve and she has you and your brother to thank for that. You’ll understand when you have children.

It seems that your major achievement this winter is going to be a world record level of snot production, coupled with being completely miserable and grumpy. I hate to tell you this kid, but you’re not a nice person when you’re sick. Its a good thing that you’re so gorgeous that we can forgive you anything (although I do get tired of being smacked in the face).

Your last cold turned into an ear and chest infection and required antibiotics to see it off. You had to stay home from childcare for 2 weeks and it was a long 2 weeks – for both of us. You were healthy, happy and eating properly again for all of ten days before the next virus struck. You had your first day back at childcare on Thursday. On Saturday you were very snotty. Yesterday you were snotty with a temperature. You refused to eat and spent a lot of the day being cuddled by either Dad or I.

That last point is how I know that you’re quite sick. You do like cuddles but generally quick ones. Bit of a hug and a squeeze and a pat on the back – maybe a kiss if we’re lucky – and then you’re off again. Yesterday you rested your head on my shoulder for ages. I sat on the couch with you lying against my chest and I think you fell asleep for a while. You haven’t done that since you were a tiny thing. So we’ll be off to the doctor again today.

In other news you’re still not walking … well, not on your feet. You occasionally wobble 3 or 4 steps here and there on your tootsies but for the most part you’re content to waddle about on your knees. I’m not sure whether this is odd or not but I keep telling myself that you will walk properly when you’re ready. I’d just like you to be ready sooner, rather than later. You have lovely shoes waiting to be walked in and dresses that you can’t crawel in waiting to be worn.

You also haven’t produced any more teeth and still have only your middle ones, top and bottom. When you’re eating the lack of gnashers doesn’t slow you down much. You chow down on pretty much anything you’re presented with. Things which don’t succumb to being gummed into submission are carefully removed from your mouth and placed on the table. Sometimes you drop them on the cat who waits underneath the high chair. You think it’s hilarious when you hit her on the head. She’s not so amused, but it’s food so she tolerates the indignity.

Well, my princess that’s it for now. For all the illness and the grumpiness, the not walking and the lack of teeth, you are – as always – the light of Dad’s, Finn’s and my life.

Love,
Mum