Sunday mornings when I was a child meant going swimming with Dad. It was great - everyone was happy. Mum got to have some time away from me and my sister and get the housework done, whilst we had some quality "Dad time".  We had underwater swimming competitions, surfed on Dad's back, performed handstands (I've only ever been able to do them with the aid of water!) all before drying off and emptying the vending machines of crisps, hot dogs and doughnuts. We then returned home to eat Mum's home cooked roast. Our holidays were focused around the swimming pool. After a 2 day drive to the south of France my sister and I were sprinting to the pool the moment we reached the campsite.

I woke up this morning and during my usual surf of the net to wake myself up and turn into a normal person, read a link about Toddler's Rules http://www.digitalscrapbookplace.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=194952&cat=2134
I therefore thought it was only fitting to write my gorgeous 2 year old his own personal set of rules that he appears to have created.

Well it had to be done - a blog about Viakal. You see for some reason I signed up to product test Proctor and Gambles limescale product. "How much are they paying you?" "Mmmmmnnn nothing, but they have given me some money off coupons that I can pass round my friends and a bottle of the remover which they would like me to clean other peoples bathrooms for free!" So yes, with this type of conversation happening, my friends thought I had gone totally mad, and to be honest they are probably right!

Today I told big man, that if he didn't behave himself in the garden centre coffee shop I would throw him in the fish tank and feed him to the rather hungry and boisterous catfish that lives there. Pure terror came over his face and he sat down nicely. It's amazing the amount of white lies we all tell our kids. There's the obvious Santa, Easter bunny, tooth fairy to start with and then there's the everyday white lies or silly sayings, that seem to pour out of my mouth on a regular basis.

I was somewhere in the region of 25 years old when I realised my own Father had told me a white lie. One that he had no recollection of even telling me. You see he told me that he had worked in a shoe shop. To a five year old who was in awe of her Fathers amazing shoe lacing and bow tieing skills, it seemed logical that my Dad had once had a saturday job at Clarks!

So have I always been truthful to my boys, of course not. Big man's currently extremely worried about what time a four and a half year old will turn into a pumpkin. At four you turn into a pumpkin at 7.30pm. He knows that as you get older it takes longer to turn into a pumpkin, and that the rule doesn't seem to work for babies. But the sure fire way to get big man running up the stairs is to tell him that his hair is turning green, and his face is slightly orange. He's tucked up in bed before you know it desperately trying to fall asleep quickly.

Big man has also shouted at his brother before after I had made a passing comment that middle man may pop if he eats any more. Big man was rather distressed, and started shouting at middle man that he must not have any more food, even if his main concern wasn't the fate of his brother but the mess he would create.

I'm not the only person to make up things, my friend used to tell her daughter that if she was lying her tongue would go blue. I must admit I giggled watching her daughter refuse to open her mouth and show her Mum her tongue. I've decided that it's OK to tell the odd white lie. Lets just hope that big man doesn't reach the age of 25 thinking he could turn into a pumpkin at midnight.

Feel free to share any of your little white lies with me, as I'm sure they will come in handy!

Todays blog is inspired by the post below that a friend shared on facebook.
http://weknowmemes.com/2012/04/dogs-diary-vs-cats-diary/

It bought a smile to my face at seven this morning, which at that time of day is a hard thing to do!

My first thought was - my middle man is a dog! Then I thought some more. What if I think middle man is like a dog, but he is actually like a cat. It would certainly explain some of his behaviour. I often refer to him as a pickle monster - which is a nice way of saying he's a little bit naughty. So I studied him for the morning, and below are two interpretations of his life. Is he a cat or a dog - I will let you decide.

Middle Mans Morning - Wednesday 4th April 2012 (Dog style)

6.15am I'm awake I will go downstairs and watch TV! My favourite thing!
7.00am Breakfast! My favourite thing!
8.15am Early morning bath! My favourite thing!
8.25am Tidal wave! My favourite thing!
8.30am Pretending to be a ghost! My favourite thing!
9.00am Duplo! My favourite thing!
9.30am Fireman Sam toys! My favourite thing!
9.45am Hiding in the wardrobe! My favourite thing! Until I got stuck!
10.00am Throwing stuff down the toilet! My favourite thing!
10.15am i pad! My favourite thing!
11.00am Going round my friends house! My favourite thing!
12.00am Pizza! My favourite thing!


Middle Mans Morning - Wednesday 4th April 2012 (Cat style)

If you are reading this I need your help. I have been held captive for 2 years 1 month and 23 days. My main captor is a ginger haired woman going by the name of Mummy. There are two others suffering with me. A small one, Jacob, who is very upset by his situation and spends a lot of his time crying and a bigger one called Joshua. He has been held captive for longer than me, and has started to show signs of allegiance to her, but I'm trying to "open his eyes" to her evil ways. There's also a man that visits from time to time. He is truly evil. He causes Joshua and me to run around the house screaming "Daddy!" when he visits. Before I know it he has caught me and is throwing me in the air and hanging me upside down.

I awoke early today, I tried my escape but she caught me so I pretended I wanted to watch Peppa Pig. It was clear she wasn't going to feed me unless I asked, so I communicated I was hungry by screaming the word and rubbing my stomach. I wasn't that fussed by the slop she served up so I smothered some of it into my clothes in protest. She took me upstairs and ran the bath. Ha ha ha - I got her wet with one of my impressive belly flops! I put a net over my head and thought I would scare her by being a ghost - damn her she saw through my disguise! 

I pretended to play with my toys whilst thinking of another plan. I waited for her to collect her coffee and I hid in the wardrobe so she would think I had gone missing. I got stuck. It was no good, I admitted defeat and got her to come and get me out. She disappeared for a second so I started blocking the toilet for fun - got caught again. She then bundled us all into the car and took us to another house, with another Mummy and two more hostages. I overheard the Mummys talking about taking us to a playground, so started to plan my next attempt of escape........

So is Middle man a cat or a dog? Or is he the most gorgeous "pickle monster" Ive ever laid my eyes on? He keeps me on my toes thats for sure!

I spent my final year at university helping save Princess Peach escape the evil clutches of Bowser. And what did I (Mario) receive for my troubles? A kiss on the nose and a cake!!! I was gutted.

Since then I have avoided computer games in fear of getting hooked and wasting my life away in a darkened room helping the imaginary goodies fight imaginary evil. That was until my husband got Smurfs on the iPad for my eldest Joshua.

I watched Joshua play with his Smurf village, planting crops and building houses. I wasn't interested, how boring can you get? Then one night Joshua was getting called to bed and I offered to harvest his strawberries for him, and so started my latest obsession. The aim of the game is to grow crops, to earn money, to build a village for your Smurfs, with Papa Smurf giving you challenges along the way.

So now it's a joint effort for me and my boy, but it has highlighted some differences between us.

Firstly, I'm not as kind and caring as my son. I like to work the Smurfs day and night to build up my money. I let Josh on the game for two minutes and the money's gone!
Me:   "What have you done Josh?"
Josh: " I've bought some benches."
Me:  "Why would you do that we need more Smurfs so need more houses!"
Josh: " Mummy the Smurfs need somewhere to sit when they are tired - look."
And sure enough a litte blue creature is smiling away having a rest on one of the ridiculously expensive benches that my son has purchased for him and his friends.

Secondly, I can read. This helps when you are carrying out Papa Smurfs challenges. Today I caught Josh removing crops of honeydew melons that I had been instructed to plant. Why was he doing this? "I don't like melons Mummy". I found myself telling him that it was irrelevant whether he likes melons or not, Papa Smurf needs them for a special potion! These are not the words of wisdom I expected to come from my mouth as a mother! So, Josh needs to learn to read, although once again thanks to the smurfs mini baking game he can recognise the words "qualified critic!"

Finally, Josh is even more impatient than I am! And I'm pretty impatient. You see in the land of Smurfs, there are the most wonderful things called Smurfberries. You get a few free here and there, but for true obsessives you can purchase them and use them to buy special things for your village, or speed up the growing process of the crops. I couldn't purchase these even if I wanted to as Joshua would smurf them up the wall. He sits there trying to decide if he should use a Smurfberry to help a blueberry crop grow instantly.
Me:  "No Joshua! They only take 30 seconds it's a waste of a Smurfberry."
Josh: "Oooops my finger slipped Mummy."
Me:  " Twice???!!!"

Joshua and I are Smurf buddies. I try not to get annoyed when he buys them pointless bags of apples because "apples are nice Mummy." It's teaching him about buying and saving, and it's teaching me that my little man is a caring and sensitive little soul that likes to help others. Now I really must go as I have some strawberries to harvest.