Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Life: meanderings 11 November 2012

It's been another odd week, and weekend.

The only I can recall about last week is Guy Fawkes night.

I think the rest of the week went well, personal-wise. Work was hectic for two days with unexpected events, and the remaining time was catch-up.

We did do playground at least once during the week, when the weather and timing was just right: not too windy, not too late, not too wet. "Swing!" is Atilla's favourite activity.

Atilla did brush his teeth a couple of nights, and flossed one night. By 'brush teeth' I mean he chews his toothbrush bristles and sucks off the toothpaste. Occasionally he may brush his tongue. He keeps refusing me to help him brush teeth. I am become philosophical.

His last canine is coming out this week. He's grouchier than last week.

This weekend didn't live up to expectations. Sigh.

Atilla didn't get to enjoy a family bath. He did enjoy the hotel room and being on the 11th floor. The room's window overlooked a major road, and so there were plenty of buses to get him excited. The vertical blind was fun for him to hide behind, while I quietly had anxiety about the blind's cord as I hadn't thought to tie it up above his reach.

He didn't enjoy breakfast galette. I sat relieved in my chair when Dadee finally took him on a stroll. Atilla had deliberately spilled the remainder of his fluffy onto the table, necessitating a second clean up.


Any how. That's over.


I was responsible for scratch lunch, and scratch dinner on Saturday. Atilla enjoyed mu-ushing the couscous. Less enthusiastic about the eating.

I was responsible for scratch dinner on Sunday. Atilla enjoyed picking up his food and identifying the ingredients. Less enthusiastic about eating.


We went to Sylvia Park, and we made a beeline to see the horse at National Bank.

Atilla was diverted from it at times, but always returned to the horse. He gazes at it happily, and strokes the image and points at it and grins widely and asks to be picked up to stroke the horse on its nose.

He didn't want to leave.

Unfortunately the bank had already thrown out all its paraphanalia with the Lloyds horse logo, and so it became very difficult to persuade Atilla to say good-bye to the horse on a permanent basis.

I dread to imagine how he'll behave when they take away the horse image. We'd go wandering around the shopping centre seeking the horse, I guess. Sigh.


Atilla asked about fireworks again tonight, during Brush Teeth. He lived with his disappointment.

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