My little geek

Mmm it's annoying - there are several incidents about Izzy that I meant to blog about over the past weeks and already they're slipping through this sieve of a pregnant memory. What I can remember includes:

She's started playing games on the computer. She really, really likes them. Part of me is slightly appalled because she can play for half an hour at a time, easily, and her favourite site is the Disney Playhouse one, but part of me is also rather awed at what she can do - and actually at how well-designed some of these websites are. OK how well-designed the Disney one is.

For instance her favourite Mickey Mouse game is called the Mousekespotter - and you are shown three 'clues' for a logic game eg stripes, green and yellow - and you have to choose from three presents; one of which is spotty in green and yellow; another stripey in green and yellow; the last stripey in green and blue. You get the picture. She likes that. 

Her favourite Tigger and Pooh game is one in which she should really navigate as well as work out clues but I think she does rather well just working out the clues: riddles are read out and shown as text on screen, and then she has to click on the answer in the pictures of things on the game. 

I can't remember them all exactly - some are easy enough, along the lines of 'it's on a balloon, the number that comes after three'; others are more tricky, eg something something about blossoms in a basket, the colour of a frog, a lime and a leaf.

With this game the first few times she made me sit with her and repeat the clues slowly - sometimes she just can't understand what's being said because it's said with an American accent - and of course I emphasise the bits that I think she'll know (eg colour of a frog, yes, colour of a lime, no). 

What impressed me slightly was that I think there are 10 or so variations of this game; I may be wrong but I don't think each game repeats any of the five clues used in each and, after the first few games of me explaining, she began to catch on fast enough to work out the clues herself most of the time. 

Sadly the CBeebies website bears no comparison at all to the juggernaut that is the Disney site in terms of design and usability for tots (with the Disney site I think you could almost leave a non-reading three-year-old to it and, assuming they know how to use a mouse, they'd probably work it out), though there are one or two worthy things on it.

One of the best is the drawing game under this character Squigglet or Squiggler or whatever the furry orange thing is called. It's basically an online drawing tool - but quite cool in that it also records your actions so when you've finished your picture you can playback your actions and see the artwork re-created. It does take an age to load though. 

Izzy was playing with it the night of Obama's inauguration and I was trying to explain why it might be that it was taking an unusually long time (even for the CBeebies site) to load: 

'Izzy, you see the man on TV? That's Barack Obama...'

'Mummy -'

'Yes?'

Points to screen. 'That's Squigglet.'

My affectionate little geek

I don't know what it is that's triggered it either - maybe the realisation it gets her pretty much anything she wants - but she's become really huggy-kissy these last few weeks. When we wake up in the morning - correction, when she wakes up, she'll crawl into bed next to me and often as not, will give me a bit hug and several kisses before going 'Mummy, are you awake now? Can we go downstairs?'

Sometimes I think it's a ploy, for example, to get out of finishing her meal. She'll get up from it, come and put her arms around my neck and nuzzle my cheek, or insist on holding my face and solemnly kiss each cheek whichever sacred number of times she feels like, or kiss my nose. And after that it's 'Ive had enough now...'

Still it doesn't all feel like manipulation so I think whatever it is, she can keep it up! It can be a wee bit tiring sometimes having to lean over for the umpteenth kiss goodnight - especially when you have a belly the size of a whale like mine getting in the way, but hey I'll take it anytime!

Limits

We're also getting a little bit better in regards to the TV, in that Alex and I are trying to set clear time limits now on her TV-watching. 'No more till after tea; no go and do something other than TV!' Usually after a little flouncing she'll agree and will go play with her kitchen set or dolls or something. Sometimes an offer to play what she calls snap - really the memory game involving finding pairs in cards - or to read her one of her books suffices. Sometimes I am evil and allow her the easy option of playing a computer game instead (hey they involve thinking!)

If anyone has any other suggestions though, let me know!

Nonsense

She still quite enjoys chattering away and quite frequently now makes me do nonsense rhymes with her. She'll just make up a line and then think of another set of nonsense words and insist I say them after her line, so they rhyme. 

Eg tonight she kept calling from the sofa, 'Mummy, I want youuu... On a slice of coo!' And when I went over she kept insisting I say something like 'mistake' - couldn't work out what it was, and couldn't work out why she kept insisting I say it until I heard her mumble the first line under her breath - which was also all nonsense so I can't even remember it, all I know is that its last word rhymed with 'mistake'.

Go figure.

'It's not fair!'

I was wondering how long it would take for this phrase to surface! And here it is. The other day I was putting her dinner on her little table as she watched TV (yes, I know it's terrible but it's the only way I get to have dinner in peace too) and asked her to come over and eat it. She leaned off the sofa and put her feet onto the stool she sits on. After three warnings not to do that in case she tipped over the table, she tipped over her stool and of course sent her dinner onto the floor.

'Right, no more sitting here then. Go and eat at the dining table, right now.'

She looked guilty for all of five seconds then became defiant.

'But I won't do it again.'

'I don't care. I just warned you only about three times to sit still, sit on the stool properly and you didn't listen so now no more sitting at the little table, go sit at the big table. NOW.'

She huffed, folded her arms and stamped her foot.

'It's not fair.'

'Tough.'

'But I won't do it again!'

'Too late.'

'It's not fair!'

And she came over and glared at me, arms still across her chest. 

'Izzy, I'd just told you three times to sit properly in case you tipped the table over. And what did you do? If you don't know how to sit still and eat properly then you aren't going to get to eat at your little table.'

'But it's NOT FAIR!' On the verge of tears she accidentally purposely flung one arm out and hit my arm. And at least had the grace to look very guilty instantly when I gave her the look.

'You do NOT hit mummy. That's a very naughty thing to do. Go and sit down on the carpet NOW.'

Howls - not very sincere ones - and abasement on the carpet.

I ignored her and had my dinner. Then after about five minutes:

'I want my mummy... mummy... I want you.'

'When you're ready to say sorry then talk to me.'

'I am.'

'Alright come over.'

And so she came over and looked up: 'I'm sorry for hitting you mummy.'

Hmm is it good that she apologises so easily? I don't know.

Anyway hugs and kisses later she meekly sits up at the table with me and eats her dinner,  no more complaints.

I suppose if there's anything to be grateful for it's that the tantrum was really quite easily managed. 

The other time she used it was when we turned out the lights on Sunday night. Izzy had insisted on sleeping in our bed between us and when I switched off our bedside light she complained and wanted to turn it on again.

'Izzy if you want the light on go and sleep in your own bedroom.'

'But I can't see.'

'That's the idea.'

'But I want the light on.'

'Well this is our room and our bed and mummy and daddy want the light off. So if you want it on go and put it on in your own bedroom.'

'Humph.' Arms crossed again. 'It's not fair. Humph.'

And she fell asleep like that. I dozed off and woke up to her gentle snoring, arms still crossed.