Will I get as big as an adult?

I love friday mornings,  no work, no rushing,  and breakfast with my G.
Whilst sat at the breakfast table yesterday, Grace asked me why my legs touch the floor and hers don't.  I explained that firstly we were both Sat down, but also that as I'm an adult I have longer legs.
Her natural response was 'will my legs touch the floor one day when I'm an adult?'
Of course my instant reply was yes. But then I wondered about her potential final height...

We are due to see G's endocrinologist next month, and as her growth had slowed dramatically over the past 6 months, we expect the conversation to veer in the direction of growth hormone. Hopefully she'll tip the charts just over 5 foot one day with the magic growth injections. Hopefully she'll actually let us inject her. Every day.
Who am I kidding? I've visions of chasing her round the garden like my mum used to chase my brother after he'd lobbed his toys out of the bedroom window!

The adverse effects of a getting ready chart
In my last post I must have used the word tantrum at least 100 times... or at least it felt like it. So I decided that I needed strategies. Positive ones.
Rushing to leave the house for 7:10am three times a week causes a lot of stress for G. So after stumbling upon a genius little chart online, I decided to recreate one in the hope of alleviating the 7am meltdowns. 
G loves a good chart. Especially one with velcro flaps! The 5 main morning tasks (brush hair, pack bag etc) each sit nicely under a flap, of which G gets to close and then open a well done flap once all tasks are complete.  I think the satisfaction of ripping open/slamming shut the velcro is her primary motivation, but hey,  whatever works!

As she needs continuity we decided that the chart will be used every morning, despite the fact the days 4-7 are somewhat less of a rush. However I did not anticipate that such a chart would have drawbacks....
5am the getting ready chart routine started today. Granted it wasn't 3am like last Saturday, but 5am is no 6:30am either.
Fully dressed including trainers and begging for toothpaste on her toothbrush before the cockerel had even crowed.
Downstairs wanting to pack bags and eat pre-match bacon sarnies by 6:15 am. 
No tears though. Not a tantrum in sight.
Getting ready chart 1 - G tantrums 0.
On day 1 at least.

Grace LOVES, football. ADORES. HAS BECOME OBSESSED. That is all.

Conference coutdown
OK so it's actually just under 5 months away, but we've been lucky enough to receive a donation from a local charity to enable us to pay at least some of the costs.  Conference is a vital lifeline for us, and I was determined not to miss out due to finances. Charitable trusts are a God send.  

My tummy is fat
As we speak, G has combined her new favourite game of football coaches (hurrah, no lunch box game!), with having babies.
Currently stuffed up her football shirt is a pink, fluffy elephant. I'm not sure which to address first, that humans don't give birth to elephants. Or that she may not have a tummy baby at all.

Right back to little G and those bacon sarnies. Wiping her snot off of the window pane of the back door should be on her chart. Next job on my list instead....

Next entry amidst or post the June appointment frenzy!

I'm funky

Car journeys are often the time when G enlightens me on a variety of topics...who hit who today,  what she ate for lunch, and the secrets daddy told her to keep (yes daddy I know you both ate scrambled egg in the lounge this morning!). Sometimes she asks me the bigger questions in life, such as where babies come from - sadly mummy's tummy was not sufficient enough answer for her and she wanted the ins and outs (no birds and bees here!). And other times she surprises me with quite frankly, random comments. 

Today I was left guessing what 'I'm funky' means. Without further elaboration I've since decided it could mean 1 of 3 things: 1-Her interesting combo of clothing and footwear has caught the attention of others.
2-That beautiful, wild hair of hers is getting her a reputation.
3-Her constant stream of stinky trumps have otherwise been labelled as funky. 
The above being said, she may just as well have overheard another preschooler saying the word funky, and gone in to parrot mode.... Mental Note, don't let G overhear anything that you don't want half the town to know by the end of the week!

Toddler tantrums
Is G still a toddler? She's behaving like a teenager at the moment. I adore her but my oh my can she could shatter windows with her scream.
The novelty of the 3 minute sand timer we purchased has worn off quickly - after several bouts of 3 minutes on the naughty step,  yesterday's response was 'send it back to the Internet mummy because I don't like it anymore'.
On the note of the naughty step, she may have her wish for no naughty step as Nanny could be moving in to a bungalow.  Hmm I think that news is possibly not public yet. Actually, G has known for the past 3 weeks so you probably already knew...

Let's play lunchboxes
What an amazing game I hear you say, I want to play. Be my guest.
You're ordered to sit on the floor with the 'other children',  wait to be handed one of an array of lunchboxes that G has packed with yummy dolls house furniture, told to open it, eat it, shut it, and put it away. And repeat.  And repeat.  And repeat. 
Dare you get up, open your lunch box without permission or ask to go and cook the dinner, then you're in for a whole new level of tantruming. 
Who's up for a play date tomorrow?? Bad luck Soph :)

Caravan crazy
We've recently returned from another long weekend at G's favourite caravan site. G goes crazy for caravans. The weather was incredible,  and so were G's tantrums (spot a theme?)! Still, we had an amazing time, especially so as many of the Chappo clan joined us. G and her cousin were thick as thieves by the end of the holiday. Myself and prosecco were pretty well acquainted too!

We are on the countdown to half term, no tantrums about getting up and rushing out of the door for 7:15 am.  No tantrums about packing her lunch box. No tantrums about me needing to cook dinner after work. I'm not expecting a week of no tantrums because a week out of routine will in itself cause tantrums. However we're both excited about a whole week with Daddy, and the chance to be a little more free.

P.s. We definitely have no more appointments until June, but then we have 4. Bleugh.