Library is the start of a quiet week

This week George joined the library. He brought five new books home and nearly all of them had a transport theme. Fire engines, tractors, trains – if it has wheels then it's a winner. All his favourite toys have a transport theme too.

Nannie and grandad recently bought him a Land Rover with a horse box, which has actually saved me a little embarrassment. On the one day a week when I drop him at nursery, he would point at all the 4x4s and shout "van" – now he shouts Land Rover, or rather "wan-wowa", which is far more acceptable and I can smile politely without the apologetic look that used to accompany it.

The clocks went forward this week, and like 'The Dotterel' says, it's lovely to get that spring feeling again – that stir of anticipation that comes with lighter nights and warmer days. We managed to start with a lie-in (even though, technically speaking, we didn't actually have a longer sleep than usual) as George followed his body clock routine and not BST.

George loves his routine and will even walk to the foot of the stairs when we tell him it's time to clean his teeth or go for a sleep. In fact, he's so reliable that mummy no longer sets her alarm clock for work! Which is a lot more than can be said for Postman Pat, whom I have noticed is rather unreliable. If he isn't getting his parcels mixed up, or leaving his van open so that they fall out, he's mislaying them so that some dog runs off with them. Occasionally he even breaks the items he's meant to be delivering. Even if he's not the best of role models, I'm hoping George will take note of the rest of Greendale and learn from their tolerance.

As you may have noticed, there's not an awful lot to report this week. I did want to post a video, but by the time I'd retrieved my camera the moment had passed, so if I describe it you'll just have to use your imagination... George spots his red mittens in a basket and won't shut up until we help him put them on, then he walks into the lounge and up to his Thomas the Tank fuzzy felt thing, then looks first at mummy then at me in utter bewilderment at the fact he can't pick anything up.

From PC to non-PC... and cars

The generation gap and way things are constantly changing manifested itself quite spectacularly over the weekend.

On the one hand there was our niece who has started working and studying childcare. She spends most of her week on placement at a nursery and has to abide by certain regulations. They include things like not telling a child they are being naughty, but telling them that their behaviour is making her sad; not saying pooed your nappy, but using the word soiled instead; and not telling them the right or wrong way to make pretend tea in case it is contradictory to their traditions and offends their cultural background.

On the other hand there was George's great nan who is about 93 or 94, and at Sunday dinner, when George didn't really want to eat any more because his teeth and gums were a little sore, asked him if he wanted a punch on the nose!

George seems to be amassing quite a collection of toy cars (actually, I quite like collecting the Hot Wheels ones myself), and they seem to end up getting everywhere. Whenever it's time to leave the house he will pick up as many as he can, gathering them in his arms and attempting to bring them with him.

What tends to happen is that he drops one and when he bends down to pick it up he drops another one, so he bends down to pick that one up and drops another one, and so on and so on.

Over the past few weeks we find them in all sorts of places...

On the stairs...

In the kitchen...

On the coffee table...

The bookcase...

The bathroom...

And at tea time, of course!

Birthday party fun

George went to a fancy dress 5th birthday party this week and even though it was his first party and he was just about the shortest person in a room of five-year olds (and mummies and daddies, of course) it didn't seem to phase him and he had a whale of a time.

It turned out to be a super party and it certainly looked like all the children enjoyed it – there was even a fire-eater who blew flames up into the air (outside and away from the helium balloons).

Ava, the birthday girl, looked fab with her fairy wings but George was most interested in anyone who had something on their face and kept following a little girl dressed as a black cat just to get a closer look at her black nose and whiskers. He also sneaked up on Spiderman and Batman, perhaps in the hope of revealing their true identity.

George was dressed in a Disney Cars Lightning McQueen outfit and his hat remained on his head for what could be measured in tenths of a second - this being the split second before it was flung on the floor.

George spotted his mechanic outfit coming out of the washing machine the following day and wanted to put it on, later he saw it drying on the radiator and wanted to put it on, then he saw it folded and ready to go away and wanted to put it on. On Monday he wore it over his pyjamas for half and hour before he got ready for his day at nursery... I think it's time we put it somewhere where he can't find it for a while.

Flat as a pancake

It was Pancake Day this week – well I assume it was as I had a phone call from mummy on Tuesday to say I could give George pancakes for tea.

Daddy being daddy interpreted this as 'pancakes for tea' and not 'pancakes for pudding' – so I was a little bemused when mummy got home and asked what George had for tea, and she was a little surprised to find out he'd just had pancakes (with a little syrup, of course).

"What's this? ... Call this dinner?"

I expected George to love the pancakes, after all, most kids think it's their lucky day when they get pancakes for tea, but George wasn't overly impressed – after eating half his pancake he decided he'd had enough.

"Hey, hold on... what's going on? This dinner is sweet!"

I'm sure he's got his daddy's savoury tooth and would have preferred some fish pie, chicken casserole or gammon and peas, but after giving him his 'pudding' I could hardly give him a dinner afterwards. He ended up with a banana which he seemed more than happy with – especially as he could walk around the house with it.

Next Pancake Day I'm going to make him Yorkshire Puddings with gravy instead.

Tantrums and tiaras

Most of the time it looks like butter wouldn't melt, but when George wants to get his own way there are a few tricks he resorts to.

The other day he pointed to the place where the treats are kept, so, because he had been a good boy I gave him three chocolate buttons. A few moments later – daddy out the way – he managed to persuade mummy to do exactly the same thing. I suppose you've got to give him credit where credit's due.

He might have outwitted us that time, other times he uses his cheeky grin or infectious giggle to win the day. Like most parents, we don't let him climb on the furniture, but one minute he's happily doing a jigsaw on the coffee table and the next he's sitting on it...

It all starts with smiles and laughter...

... then in one swift move, he's up...

... mummy attempts to intervene...

... but George is victorious (well, for a few moments at least)

We also don't let him play with the camera, and this is what it looks like when we stick to this particular rule...

George does his 'celebrity-coming-out-of-a-nightclub' impression

Other days it's a battle of wills to get him to put a bib on at meal time – then there are times when he wants to put them all on... and on these occasions we tend to let him get on with it...

One day this week we had some visitors – some very friendly hens who seemed to quite enjoy being chased around the garden, and George too thought it was quite a hoot tormenting them with his car and terrorising them on foot.

It was when they (not so surprisingly) decided they'd had enough and clucked off back to their coop that the tears and stamping of feet began. That's when we resort to distraction tactics, which occasionally call for something desperate...

Not so much a tiara... more a box of Cheerios!