Check Up

G had her 18-month assessment yesterday. A health visitor came round, ostensibly to check up on G's progress, but presumably to check up on me as well. Thankfully, Mrs J helped me make sure the house was more or less tidy, but to be on the safe side I baked some bread beforehand, in the hope the smell would overpower any doubts about my child-rearing ability.

The health visitor gave G a series of basic tests. She successfully matched a few shapes, and sailed through putting blocks on top of each other. G was also well ahead with drawing, having moved beyond doing dots and straight lines, and onto circles. I looked on smugly as the health visitor filled out a chart showing G's development, with ticks consistently above the average for her age.

But when confronted with a doll and told to brush its hair, G just looked blank, and started playing with some other objects instead. Despite several prompts, she showed no interest in the doll whatsoever. In a sense, this is a vindication of my strict anti-pink policy, which has left G far more likely to play with proper toys like building blocks and books instead of silly girly dolls. I suppose I should let her have a few now I've made my point, although I still live in fear of one day finding myself surrounded by Barbie and My Little Pony, a frightening prospect indeed. Might just keep the boyish lego out for a bit longer.