On Sunday, Daf went to Conwy Castle for the day, to do some medieval-ing. We went the day before but it had been very wet and cold, and SB is still getting over this cough, so we thought it was best if SB and I stayed in. We did manage to get some adorable pictures there, though!
But for the second day, Daf went alone, leaving SB and I to have a mummy-daughter day. I’d prepared myself for a lot of these days, when we thought the childcare grant had fallen through, so I’d been disappointed when we put SB back in childcare so that I could get a job (the job hunt is still ongoing, but as my post on Sunday mentioned, we need to find out whether all my insidey parts are going to stay insidey first). I jumped at the opportunity for a day with my little girl.
As the clocks went back on Sunday, SB woke up an hour early, but Daf got up with her so that I could have a little lie in (he’s a good egg, that one!), and SB was in fairly good spirits even as Daf left. YouTube and Netflix kept her happy for a while – we watched Hey Duggee, The Furchester Hotel, In The Night Garden and Paw Patrol, which SB and I are both big fans of now! – as did playing in her ball pit for the first time in a while. Unfortunately, she quickly found something even more exciting than playing in the ball pit – tipping the ball pit over and sending balls flying everywhere.
Still, she had lunch – which, if you go by my Instagram feed, consisted of nothing more than Babybel, cookie and cake, but she did have sandwiches and a banana too, I promise – and she was starting to get tired. When I say ‘starting’, I mean she fell asleep standing up, because she was so desperate to keep watching Paw Patrol.
Once I’d managed to get her into her cot for a nap, I set about clearing up the mess she’d made. With all the little plastic balls safely back in the ball pool (and I’d only almost slipped three times), I was able to sit down and switch Paw Patrol off – I was secretly enjoying it really, but I wasn’t going to keep it on while SB was asleep – and put a film on, and managed to do some blogging.
After she woke up, we watched a little more – you guessed it, Paw Patrol – and decided to go for a walk to the park. At first, she wasn’t entirely on-side with keeping her hat on…
But once I’d managed to persuade her to keep it over her ears, we set off. Walking with a wilful toddler along roads is not fun, especially when she will have a screaming tantrum if you dare take the house keys off her. Watching her dangling them over drain covers and grates gave me a mini heart attack each time, as I had visions of making a sheepish phone call to Daf, explaining that we were locked out of the house until he could get back, but she held on tight and we made it to the park.
She played on the swings and the slide for a bit, but she was far more interested in trying to pick the lock that was keeping the old park gate closed. She almost got it, to be fair – had it been the right key, she’d have escaped the park in no time.
Just as we got ready to head home, we heard a ‘miaow!’. A kitten – no more than a year old – had approached us, and was standing right in front of us with no fear. SB grabbed onto me and was a little scared at first, but as the kitten approached and I stroked it, she giggled and very gently stroked it herself. I’m so pleased that we’ve taught her to always be gentle with animals; she usually has to be reminded to be gentle with humans, but never with pets. The kitten weaved in and out of our legs, tickling SB’s tummy with its tail, and we spent another good fifteen minutes in the park, playing with the kitten. SB was totally besotted – had it been up to her (and if the landlord didn’t ban pets), I think we’d have ended up with the kitten at home with us – especially when it followed us home!
By the time Daf got back, we’d watched an entire season of Paw Patrol, had filled and tipped over the ball pit three times, had four tantrums over something or other not being done fast enough (usually food-related; she’s a girl after my own heart) and we’d met a kitten. I was pretty exhausted, and fell asleep on the sofa, but I’m blaming the Tramadol for that one. SB was thrilled to see her Daddy, and threw her arms around his neck – although when he asked for a kiss, she toddled over and gave me one instead, smiling and saying ‘Mama’.
It was hard going, but it was the nicest Sunday in such a long time. I missed Daf a lot, but sometimes I think some mummy/daughter time is exactly what we need.