Peaches is three

We had a party.

Am...

... exhausted.

Strong words

I'm coming to terms with the fact that Peaches is not a baby any more. Of course, she'll always be 'my baby'. And there are days when she's cuddlier and more demanding.

But right now, each day features another way that she'll test the boundaries and it's my challenge to stay one step ahead.

• Shaddup, mummy. Well excuuuuse me, but we don't say shut up in this house. The trick is to never find it amusing, to always remind her we don't say it and to ask for an apology. So far so good.

• Poo, poo. Mmm. I don't know anyone else who sings the 'poo poo' song. However, by not freaking out and saying that it's not a nice song, her interest in it is waning. Slowly. Perhaps it hasn't helped that we have applauded the occasional potty experience, culminating in her leading us to the potty and with a flourish of hands, announcing, 'Ta daaaaa'.

• She won't eat vegetables. Well until today. When I didn't give her lunch, didn't let her drink too much juice and didn't give any snacks. And said we'd only do painting if she ate all her veg. That seemed to work. So now I know she can...

Maybe I'm a freak, but I am completely loving these challenges. I don't use the 'counting to three' technique very often, but - gah, I LOVE how that works.

You do realise, I'm living in the moment, don't you? I know she'll get ahead of me one day. Just not today, okay?

Local heroes

I'm getting excited. Sue is coming to visit. She's even bringing her husband. It's going to be great - please excuse the product placement, but Recaro and Mr Scrappy both have iPhones. I have a feeling they will both get along fine.

I gave Sue a call this morning and even spoke to Miss 13 who apparently groaned and thought I was a double glazing saleswoman.

It was a wonderfully exciting thing to speak to a friendly blogger after so much interweb chat. In fact, when I was considering where to go for coffee in the Bay, I nearly called this woman. But I chickened out. More fool me - next time I won't be so shy.

We'll be going out to dinner at The Sportsman. Last week Steve Harris was named 'best chef' by the Good Food Guide. Nothing but the best for Sue, that's what I say.

While we are on the subject of neighbourhood celebrities, I'm also hoping that Sue will catch sight of my window cleaner. This year, he won the title of UK's strongest man. Though she's more likely to see Suggs - he always seems to be out in the same restaurant as us.

On the other hand, maybe that's not quite her thing.

I also had my photo taken last week with Paul Young at the Moare Music Festival. Tell me if you care to see the pic - be warned though, it's cheesy.

Project X

Not only have I learnt the importance of not missing a Spiderman photo opportunity, but now I realise the power of monkeys (and the responsibilities borne by casting directors everywhere).

Our Saturday night out was briefly placed in jeopardy when Peaches became distraught in front of the babysitter. Despite being in a thoroughly good mood for the whole day, things fell apart when I checked the TV schedules to see what films would be on to keep the babysitter amused until our return.

Since Orlando Bloom is almost a local around these parts, Elizabethtown seemed a good choice. The film would start in ten minutes and I switched channels so that all the sitter would have to do is turn the telly on.

Big mistake.

Peaches caught sight of the final minutes of Project X. In a breathtaking piece of miscasting, Matthew Broderick is a genius scientist who has to deal with a rogue chimpanzee which is flying a plane.

'It's a monkey, it's a monkey!' shrieked Peaches as she danced around the room. With the TV on mute, she was desperate for the volume to be turned up.

I told her we were talking and that she could watch the pictures instead. She shouted again, 'I can't hear it. It's a monkey, it's a monkey.'

By now the monkey had not only landed the plane, but had taken off again. It was kind of compelling and while I had some sympathy with Peaches - I turned it off so that everyone could think.

I know, I know. You are thinking let her watch the final ten minutes and don't be so stuffy. And don't even start on the fact that I missed that teaching opportunity to explain that a chimpanzee is not a monkey.

Needless to say, we couldn't really continue talking and thinking because Peaches shouted even louder, 'I WANT MONKEY FILM'. Tears ran down her face.

After tears, cuddles, milk and a couple of books she calmed down enough for us to leave her with the sitter.

In itself, this wasn't the worst of meltdowns. We got our night out and Peaches did got to sleep (eventually...) But I thought the very least that I could do is warn you that there is a film out there with Matthew Broderick and a plane-flying chimp and if that's not a disaster, then I don't know what is.