Hi there, blogfans! Time for a little update on life in the Meade lane. Yes, my extended family is big enough to have its own lane. We hire a function hall for family Christmas gatherings, and don't invite the cousins due to space restrictions. Anyway, my own little brood is growing in height if not number. And for the record, we are not planning another addition at this stage, mostly because I think "Other Little Man" or "Princess II" would sound silly.

So, let's start with Little Man. I know the Wayan brothers (of crass Hollywodd fame) have made a movie called Little Man and I would like to point out that I did not copy this moniker from them, nor is it derived from a combination of names of the first two atomic bombs dropped on Japan. It just worked out that way. He also gets called Buddy, Grot, Sir Slobberlot and The Terrifying Fart Monster. Well, the Four-legged Poo Transporter is about to become Two-legged as he rises to stand and takes his first ungainly steps towards the ever increasing list of items he should not put in his slobbery, two-toothed mouth. Yes, Little Man is walking. Truth be told, he is walking like a Little Old Man but his confidence increases daily and his resistance to sidelong attacks from the Princess improves almost as rapidly as the frequency. Yet he stands tall, falls over and stands tall again. He does tend to keep his feet quite a long way apart, either because of his emerging balance, his nappy or he's been riding a very fat little horse. For several days. Seriously, whack a badge and some six-shooters on him and tiny little cowboy hat, and we'd have the makings of a new sheriff, Grinny the Kid. And with the constant attacks from Princess, our lounge room could easily be called Dodge.

Aside from his walking (he's able to do several staccato'd steps so I'm calling it walking - DW calls it posturing), Toothy McGrin has started to employ his new weapons on foodstuffs that are not paste. He can even eat toast. Of course, he pretty much crushes any food into a paste between his squishy little fingers and apparently he likes the feel of vegemite in his hair. His formerly quiet demeanour has be replaced by a quite meanly deformer, or maybe a formed meekly admire. That makes no sense. Anyway, he's loud and brazen and not afraid to state his opinion as forcefully and without words as he can. And he reinforces his non-point with furious gesticulation and ceremonial hurling of his dummy. It sounds cute. It sounds funny. And with a certain, sleep-deprived whimsy even I can smile at it. Except at 3am. Not much makes me laugh then. However, when its DW's turn to get up to Little Man and she grumbles and gesticulates furiously and ceremoniously spits the proverbial dummy, I have a little chuckle quietly to myself. Very, very quietly.

Amazingly, Princess sleeps not two meters away from Little Man and sleeps right through the whole show. Most of the time. A couple of times we have had to move her to another room but mostly she is pretty good. It took a very long time to get her sleeping properly through the night but we managed, through perseverence and much gnashing of teeth. I joked to DW that we just got Princess to the point of sleeping through so we decided to have another baby and start the whole thing again. It turns out that was something I should have said very, very quietly to myself.

Anyway, Princess is changing every bit as fast as Little Man, only in her case, its most obvious in her mental development. I'm sure Little Man is also developing mentally, but when he headbutts the sofa fifteen times in a row, we pride ourselves on how tall he is. Princess on the other hand, may not be tall but she is astute. No longer can we speak in carefully crafted codes without some significant risk of her working it out. Also, she likes to argue her point and while logic doesn't play a major role yet, her enthusiasm is boundless.

With the grass growing long and often being wet, I haven't mowed for a couple of days, and by a couple I mean nine or so, and by days I mean weeks. Anyway, winter hasn't stopped the dog from pooing in the backyard and because I leave home in the dark and return in the dark, it means my most unsavoury job on the weekend is dogpoo hunting. In long, wet grass. Princess likes to help. She does this by running around yelling "DOG POO! DOG POO!" Even the dog is embarrassed by her sometimes. Yesterday I was being helped by my dog poo spotter when she said she hated dog poo and when she grew up, she didn't want a dog because of the dog poo. She then asked if cats do dog poo and I informed her that cats do cat poo. In fact, I said, all animals do some kind of poo, just most of them don't leave it our backyard to ruin my weekend. Princess then informed me that she didn't want a pet that did poo. So I guess its a Pixel Chick or a RoboSapien for her this Christmas.

Well, that's a quick update of the littlest people in my house. Tomorrow, I will explain how our home renovations/upgrades/developments/projects are progressing and how I can fit both feet in my mouth at once.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Today isn't the first day of the rest of your life. Its the last day before the rest of your life starts, which is tomorrow.