First week is over

Well, Mummy and I have just done our first week at our new day cares. And oi vey, we are tired. Now we know how Daddy feels. I don't know where we will find the time for blogging now. Any suggestions, apart from my patented 4 am wake up?

Conclusion

It makes me sad to say, but yes, dear loved ones The Festival of Wal is over. Yesterday we had our Mum's Group birthday party which signified that my birthday had drawn to an end. No more cake, no more happy birthday song, no more presents.
But anyway, me and my posse gathered with our parents at a local park and got rained on. We had lots of yummy food, everyone played with my 'outdoorsy' toys, we had cake, we all tried to run/crawl away from the group and did I mention it rained?

Sorry Eleanor, I don't know why you're all the way over there,

probably because you're trying to run away.

So happy birthday everyone!

P.S Do you guys feel like this is rapidly becoming your blog too?

One day I'll be describing this to my therapist.

Thank you Eleanor for the wardrobe assistance.

Happy birthday to me!

A BIG thank you to everyone who made this the best birthday I've ever had!

To my son on his first birthday

Hi, this is Walter's Mummy here (what? don't get you nappy in a knot...of course I know your Blogger password...if you ever end up having a sister I will know the password to her on-line diary when she's a teenager too!) I'm not here to defend myself from all your World's Worst Mother allegations, or to explain why I won't let you have junk food or run with the good scissors, I'm here to wish you a happy birthday.
To my darling boy,It has been one year since you came into our lives,52 weeks since we saddled you with a name like Walter (a pox on all those people who said "You cant call the poor child that!", I bet they cant imagine you as anything else now and I still think you have the hippest name in the playground), 365 days that I have been your mother. The last year has been the quickest, hardest, most wonderful year of my life. From the blissful 'Gee this is easy' first three months to the agonising 'eating and sleeping is for pussies' next three months, to the last six months of playing, work, childcare and normal life.
I love the way that your face lights up when you see me and you drop what you're doing and crawl over to me demanding to be hugged. I love the way you rest your head on my shoulder and then try to slip in a sneaky 'nibble' on my collarbone. I love the way that you use my legs as a balancing rail when I'm trying to make coffee or do the dishes.
I love the way that you probably love Daddy just that little bit more than you do me (it suits my inner maschocist, having to work for your affection) and the way you follow him around the house when he gets home until he relents and plays with you. I love the way that you never let poor Nellie have a moments rest, that she is just a little dog shaped entertainment package in your eyes.
I get a kick out of seeing you reach those alternative milestones like tearing the first cover off a book (Australian Impressionist painters in the 1890s, I believe...excellent taste, my boy...that'll learn that Arthur Streeton!) or watching you hide your blocks and cars in the tea towel drawer. You seem to have gotten your love of musical instruments (nay, anything that makes noise!) from Daddy and your love of books from me. I love hearing you laugh, from the deep belly laugh of when we tickle that spot between your second and third chins, to your expectant giggles when you're hiding in the lounge room curtains, waiting for someone to find you.
So, my beautiful bear, I wish you a very happy first birthday. I thank you for what you have brought into our lives, and I thank you for being our son.

More bloody changes

I don't know why Mummy keeps doing this to me, but we as a family are undergoing yet more changes.

Mummy has a new job as a Director of a childcare centre (she keeps singing to herself 'Got an office, got a desk, got a computer, don't have to touch children no more, no more!') and I have a new childcare centre. Apparently Mummy said she'd only take the job if they offered her a place for me.

My new centre seems really nice and I had an absolute ball on my first day there yesterday (but don't tell Mum or Dad). I am going to miss my Manda, and my Renee and my Ayse, but I guess shit happens. The down side is that I have to go there five days a week....FIVE DAYS?! The outrage! The neglect! The lack of time for blogging!

An apology

Dear Eleanor,

In light of the unprecedented events this morning, I feel I need to apologise. You know how you and I 'accidentally' ran into each other outside your childcare centre this morning? I don't think the whole thing was so accidental after all, because after your evil Mummy took you inside and abandoned you, she took me home! To your house! In your car! In your car seat! And let me play with your toys! I knew something had to be going on, because my evil Mummy was all dressed up and was wearing high heels and perfume. And when she picked me up from your house she was all anxious and nervous, but now she's all excited and manic. I do not know what this is all about..... and I'm not sure if I like it!

So my friend, I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, but your Mummy has been untrue.

I'll see you and your treacherous mother tomorrow and we can figure out what the hell is going on.

I'm back!

We apologise for this break in transmission, I've been away at Nanna's house, where we went to a whole heap of weddings.

This is Mummy's cousin Herbie's new wife Kim at the first wedding we went to where I got kissed and squeezed by a whole heap of great aunties with facial hair (now I know where Mummy gets it from!)

Then we went to the wedding of my Uncle and Auntie Monkey, whose names are apparently Tim and Sally. I made friends with a mysterious older cowboy at the reception, who stole my heart, my kisses and my toys.