When Breakfast Goes Wrong...

An aesthetic hick-up over breakfast

Dinner looks suspicious...

... and tea? Not even served!

When food goes wrong, all day long, that doesn't mean that there isn't anything redeeming about the day as a whole (though one might suspect so)!
Last Sunday Tara woke up to find that Tante Claudia had arrived over night, to stay and play FOREVER*! Thirty seconds later Tara had overcome a brief attack of shyness, smiled a sun-shiney smile and realised that all around her aunt, there were loads and loads of goodies, like new blankets, books and yet more new puzzles. Another thirty seconds later, mummy had become superfluous to requirement (Ah, what a relaxing week I've had!).

So. A few days ago, all Tante Claudia knew about Tara and puzzles was what she'd seen here (<-- Video). And here they go, launching a very successful puzzling career together. I bet Claudia didn't know the joy one can derive from doing the self same 12 piece puzzle 89 times in one week!
(That puzzle, of course, is only one of the many wonderful things Claudia and Tara did together all week long. Mummy essentially did nothing other than provide nourishment and the occasional cuddle and nappy! Ah, how relaxing... or have I said so already?)

The women of the family

PS.: We don't really look the same, do we?! The postman thought I'd dyed my hair. Come on, Mr. Postman, really...

* FOREVER will last 6 days, but Tara doesn't know that yet.

Coffee, for REAL

Baby-coffee fan T.O.V.v.R. had a taste of MUMMY-coffee!
And she's NOT KEEN!

Gardening

Is it raining a little? Ah, never mind! If mummy has to stay indoors one minute longer without being allowed to go to sleep, she'll go crazy. Great job then that we'd dropped by the shops earlier and got a mini shovel to do some gardening with. I must get rid of these random weed flowers in the middle of the garden before summer strikes, and given my limited experience with gardening, I'd best start early!

Tara has a go too... but it's not for her!
Of course we have lots of appropriate entertainment for her up our sleeves, so out comes the ball! Tara discusses its design at length - "mumble mumble mumble teddy mumble mumble" - is persuaded to give kicking it a shot, but turns out to be of the "mummy the ball got stuck in the weeds and I'm certainly not bending down to touch it so you go and get it out" school.

Ball, what ball?!

Ah well, never mind, we still have a brand new bobby car up the other sleeve, so out that comes. Meanwhile mummy realises that for digging one must pay more for a shovel than 80p, as this one bends backwards when faced with my weeds' roots. It is, however, very good at chopping, which turns out to be even more satisfying than digging. Mummy goes, chop-chop, and Tara... hang on... Tara tries to what? stand (video) on her car?! But but but, Tara!

One last bribe up our sleeve, so down and out with it! Food! It would work on me for sure! On Tara? Briefly! Until she decides that two raisins are well sufficient, and that fiddling with gravity is far more interesting.

Gravity "attacks"

Of course, when one has deliberately thrown one's raisins and the plate onto the floor, slowly and one after the other, one shouldn't really go "oh-oh", Tara. Oh-oh is reserved for accidents only.

"Oh-oh!"

That's when Tara gets up, takes me by the hand (tries to), pulls me to the gate (tries to), demands "auf!", and makes it crystal clear that she's had enough of gardening, and wants some real action. Read: Mother, let's go to the beach or promenade, whichever, now, and I don't care if I walk all the way, so we can find some dogs, or cats if there are no dogs, and come on now!

"Auf!" Meaning, let's get out and find ourselves some dogs by the seaside.

I give in and we compromise. A walk down the street, sitting on No. 12's doorstep, balancing on No. 5's wall, standing outside No. 4's garage for 10 minutes (cause number 4 disappeared through it with a DOG), decidedly not staring through No. 14's window at the TV, and spending 15 minutes outside No. 1's window, waving and calling HIYA nonstop, cause there's actually a CAT in the window, lazily looking us up and down. Then back home through the front door at No. 8 (that's us), back out through the back to retrieve plate, car and ball, and back in to wait for Papi, who will arrive any minute now, to take over play time. Great, cause I'm quite out of ideas.

Salad? No, satisfactory gardening!

Not that I got very far with the garden, but chopping up some weeds has been greatly satisfying. And after all, I'm as much a newcomer to gardening as Tara is to the bobby car.

There. Another afternoon well spent.

PS: The most worrying fact about that slightly worrying combination of pink trousers and red jacket? I was absolutely sure that the trousers were red before I put the jacket on her!

Kek-chup II

Mummy thinks, she's offering a meal of sausage with ketchup. Silly mum!

Tara is convinced she's having a meal of ketchup, eaten with the above pictured superior ketchup dipping tool. Dip - lick - dip - suck - dip - lick - dip - suck, etc etc. Honest, it came as a major surprise that she actually ate some of the sausage after every last bit of ketchup had disappeared; I wasn't sure she'd really recognised the sausage as a food item!
Kek-chup, hmmmmmmm...

Be My Valentine

KISS KISS!

Kiss Kiss Kiss... There's three of us after all!

*Mua!*

Hiya Maja!

England, 7.2.2007, zur Mittagszeit

Mit ihrem ersten paar schicker Gummistiefel stiefelt Tara in ihre ersten Wellen an der englischen Küste. Leckt ihr die erste Welle um die Stiefel, und pitsch!, verliert Tara das Gleichgewicht und setzt sich hinein. Nass! "Kalch," ('kalt') beschwert sich Tara, jammert etwas, und wird sofort halbnackt, mit Mamas Schal und Jacke umfüttert, zurück in den Kinderwagen gesteckt.

Germany, 7.2.2007, lunch time 1pm sharp

Another baby is dealing with the wet and cold aspects of life. No wellies, and no other clothes that could get soaked, baby cousin Maja is born. Of course, her parents do have dry, warm and lovely clothes to put her in; other than Tara's mum who's off to the charity shop to buy a replacement outfit cheaply to save the afternoon by the beach as the happy news reach her. And happy they are!

Welcome, baby cousin and niece Maja!

Große Cousine übt schon mal!

WSV 2004

This entry is in honour of the little dress worn below. I got it in the '04 Winter Sales, hoping that one day there's be a little girl to wear it. Yes, I tick that way...

Im WVS 2004, im Januar vor drei Jahren, verliebte ich mich in ein kleines rotes Strickkleid. Als die Preise bezahlbar wurden, waren noch zwei Größen zu haben, 6-12 Monate, und 18-24M.
18-24M wurde kurz später vorsichtig in meine "Sachen für mein zukünftiges Baby Kiste" gepackt. Der Gedanke, wie eine niedliche kleine Tochter in dem Kleid an meiner Hand neben mir laufen würde, war unwiederstehlich. Und voila, da laufen sie. Und stehen, und reiten, und klettern auf Stühle, meine kleine niedliche Tocher und das Kleid von 2004.

Play Bay

We agree that England is a rainy place? Well, really it isn't that rainy at all, unless you compare to Spain, but with everybody thinking so, there are of course lots of Things To Do on Rainy Days. There's Play Bay, our local 'soft play' club.

We love Play Bay. Play bay sells us decent coffee - not that I ever get round to drinking it, with Tara pulling me this way and that way, off to the climbing frames, the ball pool, the slides, the books, the caaaaars... anything but the coffee table. And Tara being Tara, mummy has to come along and get stuck in, too: in the ball pool, the climbing frame, anything.

Look! Tara on the roundabout thingy! Good thing it's all soft around her, cause she'll come off it in a second (a great hands-on lesson in the laws of physics).

Now look! Tara has climbed that step all by herself, and will go even further up if only mummy comes along! Which she will, up the steps, squeeze through the balls, crawl through the slippery tube, and back ton the slide, only getting her mummy bum stuck a bit.

Another great thing about Play Bay? You meet people in the same situation (though I seem the only one to get stuck in the climbing frame. Now why is that, I wonder?).
First visit on our own, a mum from nursery, and her little boy of course. Chat chat chat, I say to that.
Then, even better, another mum with a baby that Tara admires, and a 3 year old that's called Kitty but, unfortunately, cannot pronounce her name quite right. So there they go, looking each other up and down, our very own Kaka and Titty!
While I'm looking forward to meeting them all again, there is of course one superior joy: Having your own local friends to go with. And although they have gone unmentioned, we have actually got some! There are pictures too, but until I get my hands on them, we'll leave it at that: Here's just one more picture of Tara, all by her lonesome.

Kitchen News

Let's cook up something tasty!
Take one very sweet little girl that's very keen on learning new words at the moment and will listen intently while you repeat something on an endless loop, and then she'll have a go herself. Then take the following conversation:

(Tara has grabbed a bag of newly purchased organic potatoes.)
Mama: Tara, das sind Kaaaar-TOffln.
Mama: Kaaaa-toffln.
Mama: Kaaar-toffln sind das!
Mama: Kaaartoffln für HAM! Du magst die nicht, aber die sind zum ESSEN da. Yum Yum!
Tara: tuffl
Mama: Ja, Kaaa-toffln sind das.

Then mummy turns around, and Tara adds the following ingredient to her learning-by-doing experience recipe.

Take THAT!

The lid goes, plong... plong... plong... plong...
I notice that there is something suspicious about the plong-ing silence when she coos

Tara: Byyyeee
Bin: ...plong...

And then? I let her get on with it. Yes, that nappy was one of the nasty kind, and not to mention that broken glass bowl right underneath. But she was so good at opening the bin, and so kind to the potatoes, bidding them a sweet last farewell; how could I have stopped her? Or told her off, for that matter, hm?

It really is a bit like cooking, isn't it? And she really isn't keen on potatoes either.


On the whole, she's an all round talent in the kitchen. Loading the washing machine, unloading it, and the dishwasher? Really keen! We share the job (<-- video!), and no more bending over for me.

Put that where it belongs, please, Mama!

You too, Papa!

And when it comes to food there's nothing like the joys of sharing it with those closest to your heart. And your table.

Tara ham!

Püppi ham!

Papa ham!