A six step program to edibleness*

Starting solids the Grover way

Excited!:
Not so sure:
Hahaha, just kidding:
I’m pretty darn cute aren’t I:
It’s the eyelashes isn’t it:Or how my eyes go into twinkly half moons when I smile:
Stewed apple seems to be a winner.
When I remember to give it to him.
And when Jasper stops freaking out long enough about the fact I’ve clearly lost my mind and that I’m giving the bay-beeee food and stops saying on repeat “no aaaarh-pull, bay-beeeee boobeeeee. Bay-beeeee booobeeeee” to allow me to give the stewed aaaaarh-pull to the bay-beeee.
Or when the batch of stewed apple I made is eaten by the bigger boys before I get time to puree it for the little fella.
Note to self: boys not too big for stewed apples (of which I used to have a permanent supply in the fridge until I thought they’d grown out of it).

On the move:

Learning to reach up – driven by a desire to get to his favourite toy, Jasper’s Crocs:
mmmm, foot sweat:

So what were you doing at midnight last night?
Making letter cookies for Felix.
To go with the Christmas cards he wrote for everyone in his class.
Because I am stupid and suggested how cool it’d be to give everyone a Christmas biscuit of their first initial.
Let’s say it together.
What a freakin’ idiot.

‘We’** iced them this morning before school (I’d made doubles of some as I was convinced they’d all break) and then put the cards in the cellophane bags I bought at the Gates of Hell Spotlight with the relevant letter biccie and a little star as well:
These actually looked really cute.

This evening featured dinner and a swim at the inlaws and then a walk up a particular street in which all the houses are decked out in Christmas lights.
Well, except for numbers 29 and 31 who we believe will be the subject of quite a significant number of reprimands and the next street meeting to review this years efforts.
Probably tenants.
And the owners of number 47, who hadn’t even mowed their knee-high lawn.
Clearly a tenanted property.
I bumped into an estranged friend and patched things up and my natural aunt (ie the sister of my birth father) and her family.
Felix just ran up and down the street which is unfortunately located on a very steep hill.
Jasper’s eyes just got wider and wider, which could either be an early sign of epilepsy from all the flashing lights or just his sense of wonder, which teeters on the whisper thin line that divides wonderment from being deeply traumatised.
Oscar got Nana and Grandpa, a swim and a Mr Whippy which I believe is his definition of heaven.

Oh, and I got my hair cut.

*UPDATED*
And I’ve got anxiety over our Christmas Tree.
This year we did the real tree option.
At outrageous cost.
Anyway, I reckon it’s already ready to cark it.
For those in the northern hemisphere more akin to the whole real tree deal, is there something I can put in the water to shuz it back to life?
And how many effing times an effing day am I expected to be picking up effing pine needles???

* does not involve nougat
** i.e. me

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