Thoughts of a working mum, foodie, photographer and writer
I want to go on that one, please *points at slide going straight down sheer drop* – JD, 4
I’m all for risk and challenge, letting them push through their own limits but GADZOOKS, that slide was STEEP and went down the side of a MOUNTAIN, I tell you!
I’ll write about our adventures in the hills of Matlock later. For now, strip the context and here’s a boy in a playground pointing. But at what? AT WHAT?
Go, go caption racers!
Ooooooooooooh! – Little Miss J
A girl can never have too many shoes, handbags or tubes of lip gloss (apparently). And a baby girl can never have to many modes of transport, right?
The Smart Trike Recliner isn’t a pushchair, it’s more of a play vehicle that converts into four different modes to suit your child at 6, 10, 15 and 24 months and then lasts them right up to 3 years.
At 7.5 months, Little Miss J is using the trike at stage two (I think!), which means she’s upright, but we do the steering while she sits back, although she can reach and hold on to the handle bars, which she seems to find exciting. When she’s a little taller, she’ll be able to peddle as we push, and when she’s taller still, we’ll remove the push-handle and she’ll cycle along all by herself.
It’s not something Miss J would be able to sleep in, I don’t think, and it’s not really suitable for off-road, but for walks around the village or over to the park in the glorious sunshine, it’s a lot of fun.
It’s a funky little vehicle that I think Miss J will enjoy each summer for a few years to come, which makes the £149.99 RRP pretty reasonable, especially as it’s sold considerably cheaper on several major retail websites.
Disclosure: We were sent the Smart Trike Recliner free of charge for review. No payment was received. All reviews are 100% honest.
Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere’s Daddy! – The Shining (sort of)
Some days, you’re merrily pointing your camera at everything, grabbing interesting and arty shots. Some days you take a shot of a pretty old building with its shuttered windows.
Then you jump back with a start. What, what’s that?! It’s your husband, peeping at you menancingly through the window and miliseconds later, bursting through and making you squeal at a hitherto peaceful and quiet National Trust spot.
Got a caption? Good. Go, go, go!
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