Tonight I Banned Talking About Poo

Living with a six (almost seven) year old and a four year old, I hear a lot of poo talk. 


All. Flipping. Day. Long.


And you know, it can really wear a girl out. 


I am sick of poo talk.


Poo jokes? I am sick of them too.

Tiny thinks anything with a punchline of poo poo is going to elicit giggles. It might from her, but I'm not laughing. 


Tonight they were reading a book together, and every second word was poo. And you know, I just put a blanket ban on poo talk. 


I do not want to discuss poo. With you, or without you. Poo is poo is poo. It's what we do. I do not need to talk about it, thank you.


If you have a poo frenzy on your hands (well not literally I hope), you should get this book. We have the pop-up poo version. It is very funny. Well it was until Tiny tore out all the pop-up bits. 

A Tiny Party

Yesterday we belatedly celebrated Tiny's birthday with a tiny party. A tiny Tiny party. Or is it a Tiny tiny party? Who knows. Either way, it was a party. For Tiny.

My sister kindly made the cutest teacups a la Tic Tocs - which were a huge hit with the tiny brigade, my mother-in-law made the most melt-in-your-mouth meringues, topped with fresh raspberries, and the birthday cake? Well I'll post a pic as soon as I have one. Promise.

I wound up finding pudding basins on Saturday morning, got them home, washed them - to discover they were microwave proof, but not oven-proof. Excuse me but WTF?! So it was back to the Dolly Varden drawing board.

I promise I will not talk Dolly Varden again after this post. I am probably making Dolly Vardens trend over on Twitter because I am banging on about them so much.

I had a hoot making this cake. The DV tin did not yield a long enough frock, so I baked an additional round cake and added a longer hem (ahem) on the bottom. Who do I think I am? Suzie Seamstress? Yes. Apparently. I then cut it down to fit with the frock, stuck them together with buttercream, and then got to decorating.

Tiny walked in halfway through and told me it looked ugly.

YES! High fives all 'round.

Then she came back later and was stoked. Phew.

She had such a brilliant time at her little party, played parcel the parcel, pin the tail on the donkey, musical snatues (sic), and decorated cupcakes. Too cute.

At bed time she said: "Mama, that was the best party ever." And then didn't go to sleep for another 2 hours.

Summer Divine

We're celebrating Tiny's birthday late this weekend, with a wee tiny party.

The problem I face is that we've gone from a Dolly Varden birthday cake - and all the anxiety I drummed up in my head about that, to finally coming to a place of calm, and thinking, YES I can do it. To right here, right this minute, Tiny wants the Magic Toadstool cake (as shown below). I only have one pudding basin, and despite having called a heck of a lotta kitchenware stores this afternoon, can not locate the right sized basins.

I broke the news to Tiny that it was Dolly Varden all the way, and her little face looked so disappointed.

If I do not make the Magic Toadstool cake, and instead make the Dolly Varden cake, does that make me a candidate for The Worst Mother In The World Award?

And in the event that I do happen to stumble upon the correct sized pudding basins, where am I going to find those pint-sized fairies?

Help a white girl out!

As an aside, see my smalls post-swim? They just adore being wrapped up tight and being called hot dogs. They are two crazy little cats.

And on the flip-side, if I do do the Dolly Varden thing - what doll do I use?

This Is 4

Yesterday my darling Tiny turned four. I guess she's not Tiny anymore, but she will always be my wee babe. She swam into this world, a baby mermaid, four years ago.

We enjoyed the day home together. I took the day off - last year I was at work - and it pained me greatly to be away from her on her birthday. So we hung out yesterday. Ate a lazy breakfast. I took the Doctor to school for his last day of Kindergarten. We went out for morning tea. Perused a bookshop. And ended the day by going to our local Chinese restaurant - just the four of us.

We came home, and because of my 'Je suis la fatigue' (Dad, that was for you), I hadn't mustered the energy to make a cake.

Sorry Tiny.

But we did have a Freddo icecream cake and the smalls had a hoot finding Freddo heads, managing to go through three rounds of cake before I said 'Enough my little friends!'.

Today I will make up for my non-cake baking by making her: a pink, and purple, and blue cake - by popular demand. My stomach is turning at the idea of all that food colouring.

 To my wee babe - I'm ever grateful that you're in our lives. You are funny, clever, cuddly, smart and oh-so-cute. You're a dancer, a mermaid, a puppy, a catty, a princess - you are the bomb Tiny. I loved one, two and three, and I know four is going to be super.