“I’m a Ghost!”

“I’m a Ghost!”

Living with a three year old means we have our fair share of ups and downs, and there are those times when we’re meant to be serious but are holding back the laughter…such an episode happened yesterday.

Mid-afternoon Little Bear ran off to his room after being offended by me asking him to keep the pen off the table and on the paper (so unreasonable aren’t I?).  His exit was swiftly followed by a calamitous crash…but no tears, so I guessed it wasn’t an emergency.  I went, tentatively, to investigate.  A box of cars and a box of food were sprawled across his bedroom.

I, fairly, asked him to be a bit more careful when getting boxes out and could he tidy up a bit and then I would help him.  I returned to the kitchen and left him to tidy.

Or so I thought.

All was quiet.  Too quiet for things to be being hurled into toy boxes.  So I investigated…and saw a ghost.  To be precise, a Little Bear ghost.  Ok, it wasn’t a ghost, it was Little Bear covered in my duvet doing everything he could to avoid tidying.

Only a child could hear, “Please tidy your room”, and interpret it as “Make more mess! Go take everything off my bed! Please please pretend to be a ghost, it would really complete my day”.  Ahhh well, I guess we’ll just clear it up “together” then!

Tents and Tunnels

Tents and Tunnels

Little Bear is loving tents and tunnels at the moment, and they really seem to be enhancing his imaginative play.

Yesterday he was having a great time with daddy just laying in the tunnel with a handful of PlayMobil men.  They were going on a journey and Little Bear led the whole narrative.  The tunnel was a rocket, they zoomed past stars and asteroids, and landed on “Sprags”.  On Sprags everyone rides motorbikes and it’s very windy.  It may not be much detail but I’m pretty impressed that he has the imagination to create his own planet!!  He later told me there were also lots of cranes on Sprags building houses for all the children.

The only problem with this play is that you usually have to do it with him inside equipment made for children.  Cramped isn’t even the word, it’s a skill to sit comfortably in the tent, and as for the heat…well they both turn into saunas after a couple of minutes of breathing the same air!

I find myself sending him on missions to collect more people just so I can take a gulp of fresh air before being squeezed back inside.  And then at bath time I regret this decision as tidy up time takes twice as long!

And now he’s decided that sleep is for wimps so back to it, into the tent I go! 

“I was just tidying”

“I was just tidying”

Last week I bought Little Bear a Busy Book…the ones that have a story, playmat, and little figures.  He chose the Fireman Sam one and in the last week he hasn’t really played with anything else.

The other night I was having dinner with friends when I got a message from my husband.  He had heard a noise coming from Little Bear’s bedroom so went to investigate and found this…


He had found his most prized possession and was having a sneaky late night play!

When he realised he had been caught he started putting them away and said, “I’ve finished now, I was just tidying”…of course you were darling, of course you were!! 


“Vamilla please”

“Vamilla please”

On Sunday we went for a big family meal which was lovely.  Little Bear stole the bread from my charcuterie plate and then devoured most of his turkey roast…even more impressive when you consider he ate this at about 3 in the afternoon having already had a whole bagel for lunch.

When we eat out, he knows that, generally, he will have ice cream after.  When the lady came to take our order his cousin ordered his ice cream first, followed by a few others, and then Little Bear piped up, “Vamilla pleeease!”…we hadn’t even prompted him, he just took his cue from everyone else!

Vanilla? Vamilla? Who cares, it's good whatever you call ot!

So the ice cream came, he ate it all, and we came home.  I thought nothing more of it until yesterday afternoon when he came running in from his bedroom with a pad and pencil.

He stood in front of me and asked what I would like. It took me a while to realise that he was playing waiter and wanted to take my order.  I asked for a chicken stir fry (first thing I thought of, weird?) and he ordered himself vamilla ice cream, obviously!  He wrote it down on his pad, went to the kitchen, made our order, then brought it back and we ate it.

This game lasted for about half an hour and with all the food I ordered I should have been stuffed, good job Little Bear was stealing from my plate…oh, and it was all imaginary so, calorie free!!

Dinosaur Mad!!

Dinosaur Mad!!

Over the last few weeks Little Bear has discovered dinosaurs in a big way! He was aware if them before but now he loves them! A couple of weeks ago we went to a farm that had a dinosaur area and I think that’s when the real love began…I mean, there was a pterodactyl flying through the trees, if that doesn’t get the boy excited then nothing will!

At home he already had a good collection of dinosaur toys that we had played with but had been tired of quickly, but no longer do they sit in their box waiting, oh no, they are out 90% of the time at the moment.  And we’ve added dinosaur books to the collection too – Harry and the whole glorious bucketful of them with their tongue-twister names!

The crowning glory of dinosaur play though is the addition of dinosaur food.

All good ideas should be thoroughly thought through

A mixture of dry rice, cous-cous, and lentils makes a delicious feast for a triceratops, and a diplodocus loves nothing more than munching dry spaghetti from the playdough bush.  Little Bear loves it! He feeds them, walks them, puts them to bed…

…and creates a hideous mess that leaves me pondering the “crowning glory”.  Yes, he loves it but cous-cous?? Really?? On carpet?? The clean up operation is not for the faint hearted.

I had dreams that we would play blissfully together, creating stories, and competing to make the loudest dinosaur noises…the reality isn’t far from that, except my dinosaur roar, in the face of the food being tipped over again, is more like the wail of innocent prey being captured by a tyrannosaurus rex!

The Day Dreaming Mummy