Daisy Suzanne Allen
Born Sunday 6th March 2011
18 to 21 months old
Her life: Birth ♥ Week 1 ♥ Weeks 2-3 ♥ Weeks 4-7 ♥ Weeks 8-13 ♥ Weeks 14-22 ♥ 5-7 months ♥ 7-8 months ♥ 8-10 months ♥ 1st Christmas ♥ 10-12 months ♥ 1st birthday party ♥ 12-15 months ♥ 15-18 months ♥ 18-21 months ♥ 21-24 months ♥ 2nd birthday ♥ 2-2½ years ♥ 2½-3 years ♥ 3rd birthday ♥ 3-3¼ years ♥ 3¼-3½ years ♥ 3½-3¾ years ♥ 3¾-4 years ♥ 4th birthday
In summary: Index ♥ From birth to four years old ♥ Four years old onwards
Special features: Daisy translator ♥ Daisy cookery ♥ Daisy phrases ♥ Golden Bear
We have some catching up to do as, at the time of writing, Daisy is a big, bad 20 months old. For the moment, though, we rewind to early September, not long after she had turned 18 months, where Daisy is trying too hard to give me a smile for the camera, whilst sitting on the armchair in The Other Room and playing with my travel Cluedo cards that I have presumably had for an age but have rarely used. They have found a use now, though.
A few days later and we headed for Daisy's third proper holiday, in Torquay, where Daisy played on a beach for the first time, and ruddy loved it (not that it's totally apparent from this shot; but this is before she learned to love sand).
Back from holiday, Daisy looks to be dressed up smartly, but with seemingly no social occasion for it. She had recently discovered this Union Flagged dog, whose purpose genuinely mystifies me.
As mentioned on the previous page, Daisy can walk assisted as she approaches the age of 19 months, which now pretty decent control of the Winnie the Pooh walker, manoeuvring it around something akin to a Zimmer frame. She poses with it whilst wearing her posh pyjamas in a photo which, I think, appeared on the Facebook.
A visit to the Barlows on the day she was 19 months saw her join in a little more than the last time she was there (when she was only four and a half months old, if records are to be believed). (Matt took this if you're wondering about the better-than-usual quality.)
I won't do too much of that day because it is covered on a separate page, but it's very much within these pages' remit to show a picture of Daisy taking her first unassisted steps. (Technically these weren't the first, since I made sure I watched those rather than trying to find the video camera, but close enough to make no difference.) She clearly thrived in front of a crowd, trying repeatedly to get up on her feet and seemingly getting enjoyment from falling over. Given we had waited so long for her to walk, there was mild hysteria as she pottered on her own. She couldn't manage more than four steps at a time, but it was enough.
A week later, on a Daddy and Daisy day, we got out some of her dollies from the vast array of cuddly toys she has.
Daisy's walking skills were duly helped by Matt's home-made cart, which was a present for her 1st birthday.
Auntie Katie and Nana Sue came round the next day, the former being put in her place by Daisy. If someone lies down now, she makes a clippity-clop noise (her impression of a horse) to demonstrate that she wishes to sit on their back whilst they are prostrate.
Later that evening, Daisy is concerned by something that I look at on the internet.
Another week passes and time for a bit of fun on the little motorbike (wheels not yet activated), which has the most ridiculous posh English gentlemen blaring out jarring comments such as: "Let's go on a learning journey!"
I've no idea why this has occurred, but Lynne thinks it is a washed clothes heist gone wrong.
A visit to the twins' third birthday party (is it really three years since they were born?) secured a party bag, including a lip whistle-type thing (dipped in some spirits if this picture is anything to go by).
My pestering of Lynne to bring Daisy in finally came to fruition. She crawled around the office, shouting my name, throwing a rubber ball around, very occasionally showing off her walking, but generally charming everyone she crossed the path of. We then went to Pizza Express, handy with children (or child, in this case), where Daisy had the usual dough ball / pasta / ice cream combo. The morning had clearly been thoroughly exhausting, however, as Daisy dropped off even before Lynne had driven out of the car park.
Another week passes and Daisy shows off her snazzy monkey pyjamas. I took this shot as much for the meticulous placing of the fingers on the, er, arm than anything else. The obligatory comfort thumb accompanies the inevitable TV watching.
Later that day, Daisy attended a Hallowe'en party at her friend Charlotte's house (it says here). She was apparently happy to have her face painted (in a not particularly scary manner, although it goes with the cat on her top).
As Daisy approached 20 months (time isn't so much flying as streaking like lightning), we headed up to Southport for Great Nana Betty's 90th birthday party, almost bookending 10 years of mine and Lynne's relationship. We congregated at GNB's flat before heading over to the Italian restaurant. Daisy partly feigned her miserable look, although this was caused, to some extent, by the sight of Uncle Paul (aka "Goraj").
Moods were soon improved, however, by the presence of her second cousin, Lola, who came bearing gifts in the form of a dolly (which could cry/wee if filled) and the pictured dog. Lola seemed to dote on young Daisy.
Another pasta dish later (why oh why do they always bring them out piping hot for children; surely they know, especially when they say "be careful, this is really hot" and have to put it on the other side of the table to avoid her touching the plate).
Back at the flat, there followed some candle blowing (this was a fourth or fifth iteration) which Daisy finally joined in on. Pictured in the background are Min, Uncle John's mother, and GNB's elbow.
Daisy turns 20 months and immediately invests in her first pair of shoes, after a month of staggering around like some crazy drunkard. Slowly her walking repertoire expanded, from 4 steps to 20 steps, then able to turn corners, pause and rotate, each time making us hold our breath as she wobbled past sharp edges and doorways. The shoes are all purple and look tiny next to our shoes (they are a mere four and a half, and that's in the lower scale, shoe size fans). She is exceedingly happy to have them and barely takes them off (and has even been known to wear them with her pyjamas first thing in the morning).
Saturday 10th November takes us to the Wild Boar Hotel in Tarporley, the setting for Jude Jones' 1st birthday party, and also the scene of Wes & Sue's wedding way back when.
There were plenty of toys available, but Daisy was most taken with a page of Mr Men stickers (which evidently were for educational use since, rather than the adjectives relating to each character's name, they had randomly positive adjectives such as Magic and Great). She promptly began to dish them out to everyone who stayed still long enough to get stickered (except Wes, who remained intimidating to her - it's tall and unshaven what does it).
The greatest entertainment of the afternoon, however, arose from the mere inclusion of a slope. Daisy went up and down this slope at least a couple of dozen times. We should get one installed in our house.
The down slope wasn't always easy to negotiate, especially with older children charging the other way regularly. It didn't help that Daisy had just come from necking some shots at the bar. You can see Lynne in the background, policing the (warmer) higher ground.
Daisy confronted Jude on the "dance floor" with what amounted to a gentle pat on the head but, in this picture, it's anyone's guess what she's about to do.
Daisy nabbed four small, blue bingo numbers and spent some quality alone time by the fireplace.
She is a keen chair enthusiast (like her parents) so rarely passes up an opportunity to hop on. Ditto posing for the camera. In her Twister dress.
That's quite an update in one go, and you're lucky to have it, but that's what I am here for.
Well, more time has passed, as it so often does, and before I forget things I thought I had better upload some more photos with some of the usual dry commentary with which I am familiar. So, this is 11th November, the day after the party above. Daisy has always been relatively content to let us feed her, which presumably, in her mind, frees her up to do other things at the same time. But increasingly she is taking control and small apples or pears provide handy (literally) little snacks for her to munch on. She tends to leave little behind.
One of her new fascinations is with coins, a word which she can say reasonably well. (She is probably learning a new word per week at this point, although not all of them are said in the manner to which we have become accustomed.) Such coins are generally half-inched from the bowl on the small wooden cabinet in the hallway - other items are generally distributed to their owners, but the coins she keeps for sorting purposes. And for any unforeseen financial requests.
It's difficult to appreciate the scale of them, but here are Daisy's 1st shoes in glorious close-up.
A mid-week day off to cover for an otherwise engaged Lynne and my plan is simple: park then pub (for lunch rather than an all-day drinking session). I decide to try the more distant Thornfield Park, near Moor Top, which is a good 20-25 minute stroll at fairly high pace. Daisy spent the first part our visit here climbing up a fairly mucky slide, hence the dirty knees. She then commandeers a temporarily abandoned scooter (although can't really use it properly) and becomes somewhat of a performer when I ask her to say "cheese" for the camera. For reference, I didn't dress her on this day.
The adventurousness of her day is compounded by (or it perhaps enables) a go in the swing, her first not involving immediate floods of tears and a request for swift evacuation. She actually seemed to enjoy it, whilst clinging on very tightly. After this, we proceeded to the Elizabethan for a spot of lunch, which was wholly unsuccessful as Daisy would barely eat anything at all and her nappy leaked. The former can be put down to being very tired and wanting to go home (the waitress thought she was pointing at the flashing lights on the fruit machine but I knew it was the main entrance to which she was referring with her index finger); the latter down to the extremely fast rate at which she consumes cartons of apple juice. When Daisy only has two or three mouthfuls of ice cream, you know something is up. We headed swiftly home and, don't you know it, Daisy barely slept once in her cot.
A week later, while I was out with Dave Sills for the third in the series of Heaton pub crawls, Lynne and Daisy headed to Boothstown for a rendezvous with the other Allens (hence the following photos are taken by Matt, as you can probably tell). Despite being fed some vegetables, she still manages to find where the camera is.
A nice action photo, but still always the focus on the camera.
She likes to commandeer chairs, as she has done here, whilst also giving her characteristic mild frown.
She is also adept at making herself at home.
Daisy has really developed her camera posing smile (as she says something that resembles the word "cheese").
As yet, she does not like the set of drums that I have (on semi-permanent loan) in our garage, but that's not to say she doesn't have rhythm or, if the time and scale is right, the inclination. In this picture, she has borrowed the xylophone sticks as drum sticks while the Arctic Monkeys' I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor plays on my laptop in the background.
Later that day, we headed to Katie and Jordan's new place in Walkden for a roast, but also to see her new kittens, Pip and Pablo. Daisy was certainly smitten, joining in on the scratching stick and generally not being fazed at all.
Daisy's instructions of sitting down and looking at the camera were proving a little too difficult at first...
...but eventually she figured it out, just in time for the cheesy grin of the year competition. Daisy can't help but screw up her eyes as she does so.
It had proved a tiring day, evidenced by her unwillingness to lift her head to watch an episode of Peppa Pig.
Daisy's second piece of footwear is a pair of bright pink wellies, a necessity for the wintry conditions.
And I'll need to do another page for the remaining months of her second year now. Just not yet.
But now.
Just time to squeeze in a photo retrospectively (retrieved from Lynne's phone), with Daisy taking time out from her pop-up book to look at what's on my laptop (normally what engages her are photos and videos of herself).
Definitely the end now.