The white one puzzle

The other morning, I took the, 'White One,' out. The 'White One,' as you call it, can be seen, below.

When I saw that the, 'Blue One,' was in the way a little bit, I couldn't be bothered to move it first. Instead, I just thought I'd squeeze out the gap. It was only later on, after your mummy had taken this picture and emailed it to me from her work with the subject line, "How the hell did you get out?!" that I realised how baffling it was. 

By the time you read this, I am probably so old I piss myself and can't remember my own name, but once upon a time, I was bloody good at getting a car off a drive. 

Known for it, I was. 

Up the park with dad

Whatever you do when you read this blog, Noah, don't look at Daddy's tummy in the second photo. The pleats in my shirt give the illusion that there is a bit of a belly under there. There isn't 

There's nothing but a fierce six pack. 

Me and my daddy

It's been a while now, and you are showing signs of coming out of it, but you are still in the grips of a 'Daddy phase.' Sometimes you are downright cruel to mummy, telling her to, 'Goway, Mummy. Goway!'

In the middle picture here, we were looking at the clouds. You told me the birdies were playing. It was funneh.

Compare the Meerkat

You are currently at a funny little age. Every day, you seem to wake up with another hang up or fear. This month, you woke up with a terrible fear of our horrible meerkat doll. It just happened. There is no real reason for it. Your mummy walked it up to you and used a funny voice to try and entertain you. You closed your eyes very tightly and said, "Frightened! Frightened!"

As you can imagine, we had a little bit of fun with this.

This wasn't just for us to get a kick out of. We didn't want you to have this hang up. The best way, we thought, would be exposure therapy.

We saturated your waking hours with the meerkat.

The next day, when you went to nursery, you insisted on taking the meerkat in with you. Emma didn't mind. Neither did Daisy.

Hot enough for salad

It has been absolutely scorching this month (tropical thunderstorms aside) which means one thing: FACTOR 50! You have been blessed with alabaster skin (yes blessed, don't let anyone tell you otherwise) so to keep it perfect, we smother you in suncream. Then daddy puts you in the shade. Indoors. With the curtains drawn. 

Anyway, here is a picture of you playing with Hope next door. About an hour later, you came home screaming because you hurt your thumb on the slide. 

A quick word about this blog title:

Many years ago, before mummy even knew daddy, she overheard some disgusting, fat chav in a tracksuit in Iceland say, on an equally hot day as today, "Is it warm enough for salad?" To which her pondscum male counterpart thought and replied with a sneer, "Naah," before punching chicken dippers and smiley face potatoes into their trolley.

At a little over a year old, you demanded an olive.

That is called, juxtaposition, Noah. 

The order for these blogs is all wrong

Be that as it may, here is a video of you blowing the shit out of some dandelions. I do hope your coordination gets better soon.

Noah makes a call

Just before we got hold of some dandelions, you wanted to make an important business call to Dandand. Mummy left the camera rolling. Hilarity ensued.

Blowing dandelions

I don't really know exactly how it came about, but you adore being outside. In the morning, when we first go into your room, often the first few words out of your mouth will involve the word, "Outside." The other day, we went to the park and we showed you how to blow dandelions.

You can't do it. 

Look at the magnificent faces you pull when you do it. Your mummy magnificently captured them for everyone's amusement.

Skuttlebug

Poor Richard next door has suffered a stroke. He is blind and lived alone. He often got confused with things so when his confusion got really bad, no one was quite sure what to make of it. Long story short, he had a stroke and is now moving into a home. You love Richard. You spend a lot of time talking to him when he stands at his front door. 

Anyway, his lovely sister, Jackie, gave you this little Skuttlebug thing. You love it. Like everything else you have, you push it around like a broken down car. That's your favourite thing.

In the night garden, in the bath

When your mummy and daddy first saw In the Night Garden, we simply didn't get it. For the uninitiated, In the Night Garden is from the same makers of Teletubbies. The premise revolves around a child who is falling to sleep and as they slip into sleep, all kinds of mad shit starts happening. There is a Ninky-Nonk and a Pinky-Ponk and there is Iggle-Piggle and Oopsie-Daisy. You can see why we didn't really get it, can't you. 

Then we utterly changed our minds. Now, we love that flippin' show. It is brilliant. We love it almost as much as you (that is to say we love it as much as you love it; not that we love it almost as much as we love you.)

Your daddy's and mummy's favourite character is Makka Pakka. He lives underground with a stone in his bed; he walks round a three-wheeled trike and he washes everything he sees with a sponge and bar of soap; and blows a horn. He is definitely representative of someone quite far across the autistic spectrum. He looks like this:

Lazy Mummy and Daddy

Noah, don't think that it hasn't escaped our attention that the frequency with which we update this blog has begun to slip. It will be something of a new resolution, starting from.............now, that we will update more often. It isn't that there isn't a lot going on. Far from it! It's also not that we haven't been taking many pictures or videos. Again, we have loads, it's just sticking them on here. Don't worry, though. We are all over it now.

As I write this, your Mummy is busy at work. At the minute, she works at a company called Monro. It looks like this:

And that is in a place called Coalville. Coalville looks like this:

Meanwhile, your Daddy is on school holidays so he is as smug as this:

And Mummy would like to be off too, but she can't, so she looks like this:

Update complete.

Noah and the monkeys

When you were at the zoo, gawping at the monkeys, some other kids turned up. You love showing off to othr kids - particularly older kids - so you started trying to make some new friends. Listen out for the small exchange between you and a small group of older boys.

If you are a crazy boy, Noah, you will know where it came from

This is what you look like when you are exhausted

Whilst I was away in London, your mummy had to rush around after work to pick you up. After an exhausting day at nursery where you simply refused to have a nap, this is what your face looked like. 

With that said, the content of this video nearly made your daddy cry whilst he was away...

The last of the delicious June 2014 pictures all together

What a beautiful boy.

We love the following two pictures, not for how lovely you look, but for how depressed the monkey looks. There is something compelling about the thought of you looking at the monkey whilst it undergoes some sort of existential crisis. As I write this, your mummy is wisely saying why she likes the image: it looks as though you, too, are behind bars. She then posed the philosophical question: "Who is behind bars here? Is anybody free?"

Food for thought.

Mummy and Noah

This is a lovely picture with you at 19 months.

Ice Cream

You love ice cream, Noah. I mean, you really love ice cream. You love it. When we mention ice cream, your voice gets all excited and you say, "ICE SCEEEEEEEM!"

'Ee-dull'

This was a lovely picture of you with Dandand at a Leicester University sculpture exhibition thing. You loved the ee-dull.

Miserable boy

Recently, you have been something of a Jekyll and Hyde character. It may have something to do with your development or it may have a lot to do with the fact that you are just a little shitbag.

As much as we try and make excuses for you when you get like this, there comes a time when we have to admit that perhaps you are just a little nightmare.

Only parts of the above are true. 

Some help giving birth

This post isn't exactly for you, Noah, but it was a very helpful poster that was on the wall of the birthing suite that you were born in.

Below is a couple of our favourites...