This wasn’t even a post I had expected or even planned to write. It was one of those ‘right place, right time, thank goodness there’s my camera’ moments.
I had given my littles an early tea, because both of them were grumpy, tired and hungry. The last of which I was certain about because I had a little boy raiding a bag of pretzels and a little girl shouting for them. So then ended up with spaghetti bolognese and plenty of cheese.
But, given that Daisy is my second child, I know from experience that spaghetti bolognese is the food equivalent of giving a baby an orange highlighter and a handful of worms and asking them to cover themselves in the stuff. I stripped her free of her clothes and sat her, pink and chubby, in just a nappy in her high chair. Thankfully the kitchen was toasty warm from my cooking and the radiators were the kind of warm that makes you want to sit down on the floor with your back pressed up against them.
She fed herself, as she has taken to doing these days. Both of my children turned their noses up at anything soft or smooth, as soon as they could. Which is especially frustrating when your daughter used to be tube fed and you still worry whether she is eating enough.
Slowly, but surely, my daughter turned into a tiny, orange Oompa Loompa. And my kitchen floor was addled with strings of spaghetti and little nuggets of mince. Daisy decided pretty quickly that she did not like to be dirty, she did not like to be sticky, and she did not like to be orange.
So in the midst of a soon-to-begin meltdown, I pulled her orange nappy off and did the ‘please don’t wee’ baby dance all the way over to the sink. I managed to hold my daughter as far away from me as possible with one arm, and run the tap with the other. I stuck in the plug and plonked her in.
And you should have seen the delight on her face. In fact, if you scroll down to the end of this post. You can.
What an unexpected first that I completely forgot to experience. This is why, sometimes, getting grubby is actually rather good.