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Linnea went to bed at about 10:30 pm last night, and she and I had awful nightmares. At least, I know mine were awful, and hers sounded terrible. We both have a headcold. Anyway, the result was that she woke up in a Terrible Twos mood, and it took all my momliness to cure her. So now Rob has taken her to the park on his lunchbreak, which will help a lot, and enabled me to get the lunch in the oven and the dinner in the slow-cooker and have a cup of tea.

I cured the tantrum, by the way, by dancing around the library to "I don't give a damn about my reputation" from the Shrek soundtrack, with a Thomas the Tank Engine football between my knees. Maternal Love truly is unconditional.

Last night I also made flapjacks, because I've been eating pretty badly - using chocolate to cover for the fact that I'm tired all the time - and I need sweet snack foods with actual food value. I need the sweet because I am self-medicating my depression with junk food. I'm also going to the dentist at the end of the month, when I may revise the current plan. Flapjacks and banana muffins, so far. I must dig out the recipe for American-style biscuits using rice milk instead of buttermilk; it's in my bookmarks somewhere. I can do quite a surprising amount of baking in ten minutes after Linnea has gone to sleep, or while Rob is reading her a story.

In further "Yes, Prime Minister" news: I absolutely adore Bernard and I want to take him home and keep him.

And we're going to hire some Fimbles DVDs from Amazon, just to see how we like 'em. I'd hate to buy one I wasn't enormously keen on.

Chaise-longue, peeled grapes, and peacock-feather fan

Linnea and Rob are in the playground again. At least, they might be. So I'm lying around doing nothing. I got the washing up done, which is amazing for this time of the evening, and we've all eaten dinner, and I'm beginning to think I need to keep close track of how much TV Linnea watches, because she's been watching quite a lot since my EUA. Today she watched Teletubbies, Tweenies, Something Special, and Storymakers.

The Electronic Babysitter: What harm does it really do? I mean, apart from making them lethargic, lazy, slow... all those attractive qualities. Eye-damage is one I remember from my childhood. And "frying your brain". And the whole unattractive drooling on the sofa cushions while the piles of crisp packets build up into a formidable barrier between the child and the washing facilities.

The "What to Expect" parenting books: Why does everyone think they're so scary and bad? A large number of people find them alarmist. I've had three so far and I think they're fine. Is this because everyone else's edition has an extra chapter called "The eleventh hour: How you're failing as a parent and why your baby is going to be horribly ill."

Anonymous commenters who say nice things about me: Who are they really? I mean, I ask whois where their IP addresses are from, but it's not awfully enlightening. And I don't care to know who anyone critical is, but if you're saying something nice, PLEASE tell me who you are. I'm dying the slow death of the fan-deprived.

A quick think about toilets and potties

We bought Linnea a potty this weekend, a traditional old-fashioned one like this (though not a Brand Name one like that, of course), and I was looking at it while using the loo earlier.

And I thought, "That potty means she can squat, just like she does anyway. That's so sensible! And I've heard that French loos allow squatting, too."

I rapidly descended into slightly incoherent rage at the person or persons who decided that squatting wasn't sufficiently civilised and condemned me to a lifetime of using toilets that are a fraction too high for my short legs, and anyway enforce a sitting position, not an effective elimination position.

And now I want to know whose bright idea it was, anyway, to raise the whole thing above ground level, and why it caught on. I acknowledge that my perspective on this has changed considerably since the whole being-tirn-up-like-a-wet-paper-bag even we refer to in polite society as "the birth", but I suspect that it's a reasonable query even for hale and hearty people with no, ah, bathroom issues, shall we say.

And now I'm going to bed. Linnea went at 21:05 and only woke for about 20-30 minutes since. I lay down with her for a feed, and when she was asleep came down to write this entry. Be suitably grateful!