General consensus

is that three seconds is not a long time. When you are a mother three seconds is PLENTY long enough. For so so much to occur. The three seconds in question this morning was the time it took for Lexi to take a biscuit from her little container, run over to Angus and try to shove it in his mouth while saying "here you go mate". He was sitting on my lap (thankfully) so I was able to intercept what may well have been Angus's first experience with solids.

Three seconds is all it takes for your daughter to lean over to your baby and say the child's equivalent of "aw aren't you gorgeous" only to have said child burp and/or vomit directly in their face. The response time to this incident is also included in the original three seconds as it is instantaneous.

Three seconds is all the time needed in the process of "spinning" (where you stand, look at the floor and turn around as fast as you can, pretty self explanatory really) before the spin goes out of control and where an empty space once was a kitchen table appears.

What takes longer than three seconds is the reaction from such a spinning incident. Sometimes I wish they would cry straight away. It's the silence wherein you realise they are sucking in as much of the room's oxygen in order to fuel the fire of their cry that is more terrifying than the cry itself, and the longer it takes, the louder it's going to be, of that you can be sure. So when the kids hurt themselves and it is silent, I wait, and I count, to see how bad it is. It's like thunder and lightning. 1, 1000, 2, 1000, 3, 1000, 4, 1000...... although it's the opposite, because with thunder and lightning the closer the noise is to the light, the closer the strike is. With kids and that cry, the longer the wait, the worse the ache.

I have discovered that Lexi is more likely to eat things she has helped make. Most of the time. Sometimes this theory is blown directly out of the water, such as the gyoza case. She LOVES making them, won't put them anywhere near her mouth it seems. Eggy pie though, bring it on.

I tried to frock the girls up this morning. Lexi adores wearing a frock, absolutely loves it. Usually with other clothes underneath or over the top, but the frock rocks in her world. I bought Tabitha a simply gorgeous little dress from Pumpkin Patch a few weeks ago. It is blue (and you don't see a lot of blue clothes for girls) and simply adorable. I tried to put it on her this morning and it was as though I was throwing a bucket of bugs at her. She literally screamed, blood curdling, terrified screams. I did actually get the dress on her only to have her grab at the straps and try with all her might to pull the dress off frontwards with tears streaming down her face. Heartbreaking!!! I removed the dress and put shorts and tshirt on her, but I'm just wondering why the problem. She hasn't worn a dress in ages, so perhaps that is it? Who knows. Even the sight of the dress an hour later was enough to make her run down the hallway screaming. Hmmm. Strange little creatures these children. I might give it a burl tomorrow with a different dress and see how we go.

I've just turned around to see Lexi making a wonderful pattern on the table with her lunch. I thought it smelled a little stronger than previously. Guess I should go and appraise the artwork.