Duplo and Playmobil playsets for toddlers

This post is only sponsored by my imagination and is not an ad. When I was growing up I don’t think we ever got anything as cool as a Playset. I didn’t even have a proper dollhouse, I used to fashion them out of cardboard and shoe boxes which always got discarded every few months upon which I would proceed to construct a new one again. Fueled by Enid Blyton stories of little children who would have exquisite dolls houses or who would save money to buy furniture piece by piece for their doll houses, I imagined myself a little girl that lived in England too saving my pennies to spend at the village toyshop.

Researching Christmas gift options as well as expanding our toy collection for independent play these Winter months post Christmas, I’ve decided I want to set up my toddler’s dollhouse. I had picked it up from a thrift store a couple of years ago for £3. This house has served as a shape sorter and other sensory activities for a while but as I have noticed her advancing in her imaginative play with Duplo (constructing cupcakes, rockets, motorbikes, buses and microphones), I wanted to nudge that along with more props.



Initially I experimented with ‘creating furniture’ for her dolls house with Duplo just to observe her role playing abilities. They work well enough for the Duplo family to live in but it does leave a lot to the imagination (I am also quite possibly living vicariously through her).



With another daughter newly born this Christmas, I needed something that would suit both ages (read: no small fiddly parts but would stretch on beyond the lifespan of a couple of years so that they hopefully can play together). Happyland suits tiny tots best for role play, but they do not sell furniture separately as all parts come fixated in their playhouses. Plus there was no room to ‘arrange’ the furniture layout which to me is a vital skill to develop in the role play.

It also dawned upon me one day observing her play that she’s really gotten attached to her Duplo characters as she seems to introduce her new favourite toys to them ( I saw her play out a BFG style story one day when her robot baby descended upon her Duplo Disney peeps) so I figured she will likely incorporate them into the dollshouse when she begins playing. Therefore the furniture needed to suit her host of Duplo characters.

Eventually I settled upon purchasing three Playmobil dollhouse furniture sets (spending £35 at George including delivery): the vintage bathroom, the living room and the children’s rooms.



The playhouse we have had five rooms: a lounge, a kitchen diner with a built in fridge, a bathroom and two bedrooms. My plan is to introduce the bigger pieces this year as her Christmas gift, stowing away the smaller pieces for a couple of years until I know the baby is old enough to play with the smaller parts safely.






Is it wrong that I can’t bear to wait the three weeks till Christmas when she would get this present?


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My first days as a SAHM to two under three

Mum left last night. It was a new day and thank goodness the toddler had slept through the night as it was the first time ever someone wasn’t there to stop her from coming into our room.

At half past seven she comes in with a sheepish grin and I pass the baby to my husband to prepare to cuddle her. Something wasn’t right. She smelled of poo! She hadn’t had an accident for over a month! But I guess whilst she’s in deep sleep it doesn’t count. Unfortunately she’s stuck her fingers in the diaper since the accident too. On that first morning I was sent off on a wild goose chase after her trail of things she’s touched, after I had stuck her in the shower to hose her down.

Sheets changed on both her bed and ours, I settled down to read with and to feed my baby, and I still find poo on her. On her ear where she’d scratched it. I also find some later on in the day. To top it all off, sometime that morning, when the baby was crying I saw to my horror the toddler stuck her index finger into her mouth to pacify her! I hope I had gotten out all the traces of faeces from that finger.

Crappy morning aside, I tried unsuccessfully to make pizza that day as Fridays were usually pizza night. First I forgot the yeast in the dough so it was added as an after thought. Then I forgot to get the salami and pepperoni so unless I was making margheritas for dinner, it just wouldn’t cut it. We ended up with a Tuscan sausage soup for dinner.

The toddler wouldn’t nap, which meant that I couldn’t get too much rest myself. But she did surprise me with loads of independent play ( amazing what games some silicone cupcake mounds can inspire in a toddler’s mind) so that I managed to get a few Black Friday deals and make our meals. For our trip out for the day, I tried to do our weekly shop with the toddler and bub in tow. I thought it may be challenging but Ms 2 yr 8 mths proved to be the best little helper. She managed to pull the trolley around the shop, piling it with groceries, then she unloaded it onto the conveyor belt and subsequently loaded them into the pram’s shopping basket after they’d been scanned through and paid for. Amazing effort!

Just as I am struggling through the day with sleep deprivation and the onset of a cold, the toddler brings me a cup of pretend tea which really warms the cockles of my heart.






That evening I looked forward to crawling into bed at nine pm when the toddler’s gone to bed. Mr Hea was tasked with the bedtime feed for the baby. What could possibly go wrong?

He doesn’t screw the bottle on properly and my expressed milk all comes spilling out as soon as he’s put it in. He then pulls out formulae and proceeds to feed her on our bed whilst catching up with me on the day. Before I know it, our baby is throwing up on the new sheets because she has taken the formula too quickly and it is too heavy for her. Mr HEA hasn’t bothered to use the hand towel I had suggested he use as a bib so I am dragged out of bed to change the baby and the sheets again. As the husband tries to hurry me back to bed, grabbing the bub, he bobs her head on the cupboard and she doesn’t like it. Just in case this doesn’t round up the brilliant day, the onesie I’ve grabbed off the pile for my baby announces,”My Mummy thinks she’s in charge. That's cute.”

I think I’ve been owned.

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39 weeks in 3 weeks out

She is everything my firstborn wasn’t. She had a far less traumatic introduction to this world and mentally we were so much more prepared and organised to welcome her than we were with our first. Funny how your brain retains muscle memory on how to care for a newborn despite this one being far more wriggly than our first. Things like breastfeeding and how to change their diaper just all come back to you as you wizz through it with the efficiency and competence that only a second time parent can have.

We look at the newborn world that surrounds us now and it’s fun for us to play ‘spot the first time parents’ because they are so scared and bewildered. Much like we were then. She doesn’t get picked up until she makes urgent cries, she is coddled much less, and only changed if she doesn’t pass the smell test. Yet she is content. Mummy doesn’t even keep track of her feeding and sleeping patterns like she did rigidly with S. I had to ask my mother when was the last time I bathed/ top and tailed L. Newborns just seem so much cleaner than toddlers who need to be washed so many times a day and bathed daily because they are just big germ bags.

Yes compared to her sister she is the sweet one now because there is no sass, only coos. She doesn’t try to manipulate us for treats or to delay bed time. We don’t have to treat her like a ticking tantrum mine field and she certainly seems assertive enough when poked at or roughly manhandled by her older sibling. With our firstborn we worried that we would kill her. With the second, we worry the toddler will.

What an incredible journey! Tiring and painful at the time but so hazy now as comfortably we slip into being a family of four.

From the three hours of active labour where I had to mentally psych myself into pushing her out on no pain relief all the while praying for the strength to see it all through, to the late night uterine cramps where I swore I was better off being in labour, through to the night I cried big tears because my milk came in and I was going beserk with the hormones. I thought of throwing in the towel. The magnitude of the toil ahead of us seemed all too much to bear. As I cuddle my slowly unfurling bundle of joy today those events fade away into distant memory.

Slight confession: the first two weeks, I missed my big girl. I had to watch her struggle to be independent of me. It hurt when she got used to having Daddy do things for her that used to be my domain. I missed being her ‘best friend’ as she called us. I can see that she missed me too as she asked me daily worriedly if I was feeling better. I missed my firstborn so much I didn’t really bond with my second. My toddler had a personality and I could communicate with her but the baby was just a non-verbal blob. I sat in silence with her in the still of the night although naggingly my memory tells me I used to sing lullabys and tell S my hopes and dreams for her during the newborn nights.

The maternal instinct towards L came very very late and I wondered about that adage that supposes your heart grows to accommodate the love you have for both. I watched like an outsider as my husband eagerly lavished affection on the baby and noted without passion how lovingly he sang and played with her during her brief waking moments in the day. I recoiled every time he would say ‘I think she needs a feed’. Perhaps it was the uterine cramps or the fact that I was tired and so immobilised by becoming a newborn’s mother again. I was sure relieved to find my own interest in my second child develop in the third week. Perhaps it made me feel more human.

We plod on. Soon my mother will excuse herself from our lives as she returns to her own. I have enjoyed the extra hands she's lent us the past so many weeks. I remember the helplessness I felt when she left the last time she was here to help with my firstborn. I am sure to feel it again especially when witching hour descends upon us and my toddler dissolves into a hot boiling mess at the same time. Still other people manage and the long evenings get drowned somehow in pools of hazy memories. Those are the ones who go back to wishing for another newborn to cuddle and to keep by their side little for just that while longer. I hope not for me. I must settle into nuzzling L more each long night and enjoying the tears that they will let me soothe and wipe away now, before they grow up and tell me in their big girl bravery," I want to do this myself."


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Toddler titter

More anecdotes from my 2.5 year old that really confounds/ cracks me up.

Her Godfather has no kids but is a great cook, and hosts great barbecues. One time after having attended one of his house parties she said to me she doesn’t like Godpa’s house. He has no toys. Only food and drink. That’s probably right.

Once during our potty training weekend mornings she wet our bed because she’d climbed in in the morning without a nappy. I did get rather cross with her as she knew she wasn’t allowed. As I was trying to explain the consequences to her,” where’s Mummy going to sleep now?” To which she promptly replied,”me!” And Daddy? She shrugs her shoulders and makes a nonchalant face at that.

Sometimes I get lazy with Mummy duties. Last night we were in the shower together and she suddenly announces she needs to use the potty. Scanning the bathroom the potty was outside, and we were both dripping wet so I told her she can just pee in the shower. She shakes her head and says that would make Mummy very unhappy. Good girl errr she passed the test. I held her on the toilet seat after that.

One night I was co sleeping with her and she kept kicking me for play so I told her off and she retorted: Why is it ok for Mei Mei (little sister) to kick you then from inside?

Towards the end of my finishing up at work she’d really been struggling with going to bed and waking up in the mornings. Then in her cranky state she’d argue that she really should be working and not to nursery. So I said to her one morning. Ok what skills do you have to find work with? “ Jumping” Upon my suggestion that she could work at a circus she responds with, “ But I wouldn’t want to runaway.”

On another occasion when we had another discussion about why she needs to go to nursery she demanded that she needs to go to Midtown High instead. That’s where Peter Parker aka Spider-Man goes to school.

My toddler has lately taken to demanding my husband reads her the ‘101 whiskeys to drink before you die’ guide to her. I was telling her I had a sore shoulder one time and she said,” Don’t worry mummy, I am sure it isn’t anything. It’s probably just a Monkey Shoulder.” ( Monkey Shoulder is an actual Whiskey name but also the name of the condition developed by men who used to malt barley by hand).

Following on the theme of anything with words can be read, she broke into my hospital bag yesterday and took an interest to the pamphlet on Perineum tears and massages and wanted me to read it to her. Halfway through the leaflet having mumbled through all the lady parts names that I didn’t want her to take an interest in repeating she asks,” Mummy what’s a...” and I hold my breath wondering which new word she has picked up, “ ...midwife?” Phew.

We told her it wasn’t convention to say Bless you when someone coughed, rather we pat them on the back. One morning as I was having breakfast with her she suddenly got gone from her chair and started walking around the flat looking around. I asked her what was the matter and she said,” Daddy’s coughing”. My husband woke up to her staring at him patiently waiting for him to turn around so that she could pat him on his back for a cough that happened maybe 10 minutes ago by that point.

She found the family circle assorted biscuits box in our recycling bin and decided to study the pictures. After some deep consideration she announces,” I have an idea. I would like to have a chocolate biscuit please.”

My mum was singing the Mandarin version of Old MacDonald had a farm. She then asked Miss 2.5 if she knows this one. Miss 2.5 doesn’t and replies. “I only know Old MacDonald. It’s not the same. He is more famous.”

She’s really bad at Math. We would offer her a limited amount of biscuits or tell her the time limit left before we need to move on and she’d always try to negotiate with us. However without fail, every time she will ask for “one biscuit or one more minute” even if we’ve offered her more. We just go with the flow.

Daddy is tickling her against her wishes. She says,” you’re so naughty!” Daddy says,” what’s that?” “Naughty means not listening.”




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Diary of a second time mother on Mat Leave: Week 1

I will only know in time, when the story of my second little girl unveils itself. But I suspect I am nesting.

Having had an unplanned induction for my firstborn this concept of waiting around for labour to start whilst on maternity leave is luxurious yet foreign to me. I can potter about for a bit I suppose and try to rest as much as I can before my life turns upside down with the pending arrival. But I really don’t know for sure how much pottering about I can take. And something tells me that this little girl will take her own sweet time just because we are so much more prepared this time.

In pregnancy I have already slowly unpacked and organised the clothes for our little one trying to figure out what gaps we may have as I have loaned a lot of clothes in the last two years and sadly found that not all have made their way back to me. Also my firstborn was born in Spring but this new babe is to be a Winter babe so I need layers in a different size.

So here’s what my pottering about entailed.

Day 1:
-Laundered and Miltoned and set up the Bugaboo pram, car seat and carry cot again.
-Cleaned the oven and microwave.
-Reorganised the pantry and made room for baby bottles in our already cluttered kitchen.
-Took out the baby toys and dummies.
-Went for a lovely long lunch with the hubs to celebrate our six year anniversary.
-Ordered a car seat liner and piddle pad to protect the seat I just washed as I am still trying to potty train my toddler.
-Repacked my hospital bag.
-Made chicken stock and batch cooked fried rice for toddler for when she isn’t in nursery.

Day 2:
-Laundered and packed away the Babyzen stroller.
-Unpacked and set up the bassinet and changing station as well as took stock of the products I still have from my previous babe-barrier ointments, almond oil, nipple cream, cotton wool, cotton tips, wipes, nappies.
-Took my laptop in to get it fixed after two years.
-Also took the toddler to buy shoes for next season and next year when she starts preschool.
-Washed the Dyson vacuum out.
-Got my eyebrows threaded.
-Caught up on all ITVs Victoria season 2 episodes
-To reward my hard day’s work? The toddler woke up at 8.15am, then proceeded to skip her afternoon nap at nursery so she slept 11 and a half hours straight tonight hurrah!

Day 3:
-Laundered the baby blankets, toys and car seat liner.
-Applied a 10 minute exfoliating facial. It’s the Ordinary AHA 30% + BHA 2% Peeling Solution one.
-Wrote my birth plan.
-Installed the family toilet seat and decluttered the toilet of other potty training aids( insert and stools) that were bulky.
-Went to the shops to try to buy a buggy board. Big waste of time though as my voucher wouldn’t work so I didn’t end up placing the order.
-Had a late long lunch instead and enjoyed talking to the other mothers in the cafe about our husbands and raising children in a foreign country.
-Got a haircut.

Day 4:
-Toddler not in nursery today so planned to really fix her potty training issues. Read the book Oh -Crap Potty training and realised the toddler’s issues stemmed from us being too confusing not being consistent with the diaper situation as we still slapped on a diaper if we went out or when she’s meant to take a nap...which kind of takes a few hours sometimes with her if we are at home cause she’ll flat out refuse her nap and carry on playing. The book recommends blocking out the whole day with no distractions or social activity and just watching your child. It was blissful luxury just interacting with my little one like that. My favourite bit was reading an Angels & Urchins magazine with her because she loved all the ads and pictures of the kid activities. Don’t know if we succeeded in achieving much potty training though as she was so well behaved the whole day, we didn’t have one accident and she always stopped her activity to tell me she needed the potty. Maybe all the other times she’d been ( as the book says) giving me the inner F* you as an attention seeking mechanism. Sigh.
-Had dinner cooked for us as my toddler’s godmother offered to come over to make us the Crab Linguine recipe from her Gousto box order. It was delicious! And because the toddler missed her nap she was out like a light by 7pm which meant we had a lovely adult dinner with our friend with wine and dessert and didn’t once have to entertain an attention seeking toddler. Said toddler also slept all through the night till 6am so I am stoked.

Day 5:
-My husband worked from home so that I didn’t have to deal with taking a toddler with me on public transport at peak hour as my midwife had booked me onto a nine am slot with the obstetrician. Thank goodness he did as by some Friday the thirteenth luck, the hospital needed some of the obstetricians at the labour ward which meant consultation patients were kept waiting for over an hour delay. I then had to wait to see a midwife and the whole thing took over three hours in the end. We had a good lunch and then came home to continue potty training the little one. She ended up taking a nap at five pm which freaked me out a little but all’s well that ends well.

Weekend:
-We bought the buggy board (woohoo!) and discovered the Colliers woods’ Burger King has a children’s play pen which obviously the toddler insisted on going on. It melted my heart when upon seeing she couldn’t get up the slide by herself, the other kids who are only very slightly older than her hoisted her up. She had a lovely day of course and we rounded it up by taking a whirl on her new buggy board to the playground in the afternoon.
-On Sunday after an ingenious buggy stroll where the toddler fell asleep for two hours, I managed to order her big sister present online and made siew mai and roast duck noodles as we hosted family in the afternoon. After that lovey dinner and a bubble bath together their 3 year old girl refused to go home deciding that she wanted to sleepover. So there we were at the end of my first week off, we suddenly had two little girls in an impromptu sleepover at our flat and I have this warm fuzzy feeling as I tucked them in and watched the two girls asleep that perhaps it isn’t quite that daunting being mother to two. Perhaps I can do this after all.







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