When we’re at home, at nearly 15 months old, Joe’s days are pretty much Groundhog Day-like. I can set the clock by his routine. In fact I rarely look at a clock because he’s so precise in his activities!
05:00 Wake up for the first feed of the day. I don’t need to but I’ve noticed Mummy edging nearer Daddy and I need to regain my position of ultimate male in her life.
07:01 She moved. She’s not here. It’s time for me to scream. I know she’s in the shower but if I really cry she’ll jump out and run up the stairs because she thinks I’ll learn to climb out of her bed any day now.
07:30 My scrambled eggs are on the floor. I’m sat on my cup. Does she really think I don’t know that she picks the eggs up and throws them back on my tray to eat? What’s Emmie having? I NEED that instead.
07:56 My worst part of the day. Getting dressed. I hate the blue stripey clothes she puts me in. Every day.
08:45 Yes! We’re in the car. That means Emmie’s going somewhere and Mummy will be all mine forever. Or at least the whole day.
09:30 She’s got all my wheels out on the floor. Every. Single. One. That means she wants to work or not be attached to me. I love them so I’ll give her a bit of time but not too long.
10:30 I’m so tired. I need milk. And sleep. And more milk. One boob wasn’t enough, I need twooooooooo.
12:30 I’m back. And you know it. I recently learnt to talk really well. You basically open your mouth and make the loudest sounds. It’s so cool. Stop what you’re doing now and feed me. I’m starving. G-ross. What’s this? Yesterday’s dinner? Guess where it’ll end up? You’ve got it. Not in my mouth I’ve got more talking to do.
14:30 Oh Emmie’s back. I want her toys. And that picture she’s drawn looks mighty tasty. I might just eat it because lunch was a bust and I’m hungry.
17:00 It’s trampoline time. We all know what that means. Mum’s pretending to be hugely active so that when Dad gets home he’ll think we’ve been playing all afternoon. Whatever. I like crawling around on it and it annoys Emmie. Win win I say.
18:00 All my dinner’s eaten to prove that I am still the ultimate male in the house. Dad’s got nothing on me. All the Paediatricians say Mummy has to feed me more but Dad’s always watching his weight. I win the dinner eating contest by a mile.
19:00 Bath time. Emmie’s screaming. It’s only a matter of time before Mum realises the poo smell is actually on the bottom of her shoe. It fell out of my nappy and she stepped on it. Ha! Stop sniffing the bath Mum, it’s on you, not me.
19:20 The best part of my day. More wheels and In the Night Garden. I’m channeling my inner Iggle Piggle as we speak. Emmie’s more an Upsy Daisy fan; she’s so lame.
20:00 Bedtime. I pretend that I hate it but actually I’m so tired after all that talking and crawling around with my wheels that I’m out like a light before my head hits the pillow.
22:03 Err hi! I felt your presence whilst in my deep sleep when you came to bed. Miiiiiiiilkkkkkkkk. NOW.