If This Is Motherhood, I Want My Old Job Back

With a nod to the Saw Doctors...

I don't really. But I was hoping it would be a nice day of pootering, but Alexander decided to practice passive resistance. Not even bad-tempered, it was accompanied by a grin. A rather knowing grin, I thought.

We didn't go out all weekend so I thought a venture to to Botanics would ease us into the week. He refused to get dressed, then refused to come downstairs. He had lots of things he was busy doing, all of them acceptable - i.e. doing a jigsaw, reading a book... but I was getting cabin fever and needed to go out. I got him into the car - all of the time he was cheerful, just toying with me...

He then went on the playpark and refused to leave until I strapped him down in the pushchair, then he wouldn't leave the hothouse... blah blah blah. The veg man in Asda went to get a trolley for me to tie him up in, as he could see we were having a dispute about where to go (I know I should have done this in the first place, but I was persisting with allowing him to walk, foolishly).

I was ready to go to bed, I can tell you. Only to find he had snuck in for a cuddle with Mr HPW. The final straw was when Alexander decided he was going to tickle us both for a laugh (at 11.30pm). He was sent back in his own bed. I believe Mr HPW had to sit in there with him for some time, but I'd gone to sleep by that point.

Here is Alexander testing the acoustics in the hothouse....