Otis says to me yesterday, whilst flipping through the pages of a book in complete silence, “Mum, I am not reading this book, I am listening to it, just like you.”
Current favourite activity is reading magazines, he loves all the ones aimed at little/pre-teen boys, like Mania, Krash and DMag. He cuddles both one of these (usually the latest, I pick them up for him on Sundays after his swimming lesson as a bribe, I know, evil, dastardly parenting technique, but I figure keeping him alive in the water trumps the badness of bribery) and his cuddly Santa.
Peggy says “Mummy” in the sweetest, most clearly enunciated way, it is such a delight to hear. Also says:
Dad/Daddy
Ammy (Grammy)
Braa (Brother)/Ati (Oti)
Bird
Popow (Popov, used for all dogs or other animals she doesn’t know the correct name for)
Yum
Hello (said upwards of 60 times a day, to anyone who walks past her or as soon as she hears me answer the phone, or in response to a character on a TV show, even though she doesn’t like TV, won’t sit still for a minute to even try to engage with it. She pronounces this “Hewwo”. It is said in a very short, abrupt way. )
Bye
Ta
Booboo (Boob… Even though weaned for nearly 2 weeks now… This girl will not forget!)
Current fave activity is to try on other people’s shoes, which she is surprisingly adept at, as well as their clothes, which she has a bit more trouble with. When she can’t manage these things immediately and with ease she screams and throws herself on to the floor in a most dramatic fashion.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
A third? Maybe I'm mad.
So, it's been a while. It's been a rough, misery-filled, relentless couple of months. Peggy's first birthday, an occasion I hoped to celebrate with great joy and the type of fun that my funny girls deserves, was instead full of vomit and tears and fevers and trips to the hospital. Peggy was well (then), but Otis was dreadfully ill, lethargic and quiet and too pink and completelt un-Otis like. He threw up for 14 hours straight, and then on and off for another 3 days. Eventually, upon our third presentation in Emergency, he was admitted for dehydration, and much later that same day, was re-fuelled via a nasty, invasive drip that he absolutely hated but which did the trick and got him back to health.
And then Peggy had it. Not so severely though... She's a tough little bird, determined and sure, and Otis is so sensitive. I wonder whether their emotional attributes somehow equate with the way their bodies process viruses. He gets hit hard, she battles on. Both need me so desperately when sick though, and of course I'm always there, but I can't say it was easy this time around. You see, they were also battling colds, Peggy actually had a throat infection and was on antibiotics and at first I thought the medication was the source of the runny nappies...
Phil was sick too, and one no good very bad day he hurt his back, all three of them cried and moaned and needed, needed, needed me all day long, and I faltered. I yelled, there was some throwing of things - nothing too scary, just a dummy or two - and I cried and, yep, I needed my Mum.
Now, they are reasonably well. They take a multivitamin every day - they love it, a little fruit flavoured, fish shaped "burstlet" - and I feel fairly confident that no family would suffer from gastro four times in a single year, so hopefully we won't have any more vomiting again this side of Christmas. But Peggy does have a rattly cough and sleeps... Well, like a baby, a tiny baby, not like a person who walks and talks should. I am tired but I have been to hell and know what it looks like and this isn't it. Things are "good". Not perfect, but I've come to realise that perfect moments are just that, moments, and parenting is made up of mostly very imperfect moments. But they still make me grin, and make my heart feel full.
And so, yes, we're looking at having another. Soon. Seems insane, I know. But I want to one day have some semblance of a career, so I don't think that prolonging the baby stage would be wise.
We debated the merits of going ahead with number three for a while there. Phil wasn't convinced, he talked about finances and houses and how lucky we are to have what we've got. Yes, the old "pigeon pair" thing came up too, which was silly on his part as that's never been the focus for me.
I get where he's coming from. We aren't rich, not even close, and I am sure that two would make more sense financially. But the reason to have another trumps all of his arguments. My babies deserve to have more than one sibling each. I want them to feel surrounded by people who love them and get them and accept them. That's what siblings do. They have a secret language, a shared past, they can communicate without words. I have four, and my childhood was so full as a result. Two simply doesn't seem enough. For Phil and I, yes, maybe it would be. But I don't think it would be for them, and they are the ones who motivate my choices these days.
Otis asks me constantly for another baby. He'd be happy with a boy or a girl, but if it's a boy he'd like it to be called "Otis". And while I like the idea of another him, because he's an angel and I can't get enough of him, I know enough now to know that every child is frighteningly unique. Who knows who we will end up with?
And then Peggy had it. Not so severely though... She's a tough little bird, determined and sure, and Otis is so sensitive. I wonder whether their emotional attributes somehow equate with the way their bodies process viruses. He gets hit hard, she battles on. Both need me so desperately when sick though, and of course I'm always there, but I can't say it was easy this time around. You see, they were also battling colds, Peggy actually had a throat infection and was on antibiotics and at first I thought the medication was the source of the runny nappies...
Phil was sick too, and one no good very bad day he hurt his back, all three of them cried and moaned and needed, needed, needed me all day long, and I faltered. I yelled, there was some throwing of things - nothing too scary, just a dummy or two - and I cried and, yep, I needed my Mum.
Now, they are reasonably well. They take a multivitamin every day - they love it, a little fruit flavoured, fish shaped "burstlet" - and I feel fairly confident that no family would suffer from gastro four times in a single year, so hopefully we won't have any more vomiting again this side of Christmas. But Peggy does have a rattly cough and sleeps... Well, like a baby, a tiny baby, not like a person who walks and talks should. I am tired but I have been to hell and know what it looks like and this isn't it. Things are "good". Not perfect, but I've come to realise that perfect moments are just that, moments, and parenting is made up of mostly very imperfect moments. But they still make me grin, and make my heart feel full.
And so, yes, we're looking at having another. Soon. Seems insane, I know. But I want to one day have some semblance of a career, so I don't think that prolonging the baby stage would be wise.
We debated the merits of going ahead with number three for a while there. Phil wasn't convinced, he talked about finances and houses and how lucky we are to have what we've got. Yes, the old "pigeon pair" thing came up too, which was silly on his part as that's never been the focus for me.
I get where he's coming from. We aren't rich, not even close, and I am sure that two would make more sense financially. But the reason to have another trumps all of his arguments. My babies deserve to have more than one sibling each. I want them to feel surrounded by people who love them and get them and accept them. That's what siblings do. They have a secret language, a shared past, they can communicate without words. I have four, and my childhood was so full as a result. Two simply doesn't seem enough. For Phil and I, yes, maybe it would be. But I don't think it would be for them, and they are the ones who motivate my choices these days.
Otis asks me constantly for another baby. He'd be happy with a boy or a girl, but if it's a boy he'd like it to be called "Otis". And while I like the idea of another him, because he's an angel and I can't get enough of him, I know enough now to know that every child is frighteningly unique. Who knows who we will end up with?
Monday, October 11, 2010
The things I love about Oti...
His cherubic face. It's a classically beautiful face that I am pretty sure anyone would love, but being his mother, I love it especially. The full pink lips, stunning baby blues, English rose complexion, the creamy, pale, shiny, flat hair. Easy to love.
The manipulative faces he pulls - when he's been naughty, he knows just how to con us into letting him get away with it. The lips are made for pouting, and he screws them up to one side and lowers his head just so... He knows what he's doing.
His loving nature. He strokes Peggy's face so tenderly,"I love you Peggy", "Mum, I love Peggy, she's my sister." "Mum, can Peggy have a biscuit too? I think she's hungry. I love her." "Mum, I love you, you a good Mummy."
His innocence. He kissed his little friend Hughie on the lips the other day as we were saying goodbye. There was nothing shy or hesitant about it, he did with confidence, with the same enthusiasm he has for everything he loves about his life. And Hughie was happy to take it. This was after they had done wees together under the big tree at our local park.
His honesty. My pubic hair apparently makes me look like "Santa Claus", and his Grammy's hair... Well, he's admitted he's not a fan. At least when he says that he does like something we can accept it as truth.
His sayings... He loves to reply with "Sure!" or "Of course" if we ask him to do something. Instead of "I don't know", it's "I can't know". And he loves to reflect on his morning ust before naptime. "We've had a busy morning. We've had fun!"
The fact that he's not as scared of new things as I once he feared he might turn out to be... He started proper swimming lessons on Sunday, no parents in the pool when you're a Tadpole. And he didn't hesitate to get right in when he was asked to. I was dumbfounded. I had been prepared for tears and clinging and trauma for us both.
The manipulative faces he pulls - when he's been naughty, he knows just how to con us into letting him get away with it. The lips are made for pouting, and he screws them up to one side and lowers his head just so... He knows what he's doing.
His loving nature. He strokes Peggy's face so tenderly,"I love you Peggy", "Mum, I love Peggy, she's my sister." "Mum, can Peggy have a biscuit too? I think she's hungry. I love her." "Mum, I love you, you a good Mummy."
His innocence. He kissed his little friend Hughie on the lips the other day as we were saying goodbye. There was nothing shy or hesitant about it, he did with confidence, with the same enthusiasm he has for everything he loves about his life. And Hughie was happy to take it. This was after they had done wees together under the big tree at our local park.
His honesty. My pubic hair apparently makes me look like "Santa Claus", and his Grammy's hair... Well, he's admitted he's not a fan. At least when he says that he does like something we can accept it as truth.
His sayings... He loves to reply with "Sure!" or "Of course" if we ask him to do something. Instead of "I don't know", it's "I can't know". And he loves to reflect on his morning ust before naptime. "We've had a busy morning. We've had fun!"
The fact that he's not as scared of new things as I once he feared he might turn out to be... He started proper swimming lessons on Sunday, no parents in the pool when you're a Tadpole. And he didn't hesitate to get right in when he was asked to. I was dumbfounded. I had been prepared for tears and clinging and trauma for us both.
The things I love about Booroo...
Those chocolate-y eyes that are so different from my own. They are all-knowing, and very pretty, framed with long, dark, curled lashes. Her best feature.
The golden hair, getting longer and wavier, looking lovely clipped at the side of her face. I'm slightly obsessed with putting clips in her hair, always keen to add to her/my collection.
The grabby little hands, she has the short nail beds that Phil has. Toes are like that too. Her feet are so straight, narrow, delicate and a light golden brown.
The way she holds on to her lovey or her soft quilt as she's falling asleep... Such a tight clutch, such a furrowed brow. Slowly her body relaxes and surrenders.
The tiny buds of teeth that have only just arrived! They are bumpy and ridged in their newness, and she is enjoying biting with them.
The put-on face of utter devastation that she shows me whenever something doesn't go her way. Dramatic, nose all scrunched, lips tight and wide, eyes squinty and full of rage. But there's a laugh lurking underneath it all.
The slap-slap-slap of her feet as she crawls with mighty speed. I hear this less and less now that she is walking. But when she's in hurry she reverts to the mode of transport she's long mastered.
Her emerging words... In the middle of the night now she'll actually ask for "boobooboo... boo" and I find it very hard to refuse her. She's starting to enunciate lots of new things, bird, book, brother...
The earnestness of her gaze as she "reads". Interactive books are her preference - glittery, touch-and-feel-, lift-the-flap.
Her smell. Like Otis, she smells so delicious. It's a clean, fresh smell mixed with something undefinable - a Peggyness that is sweet and salty and familiar.
The golden hair, getting longer and wavier, looking lovely clipped at the side of her face. I'm slightly obsessed with putting clips in her hair, always keen to add to her/my collection.
The grabby little hands, she has the short nail beds that Phil has. Toes are like that too. Her feet are so straight, narrow, delicate and a light golden brown.
The way she holds on to her lovey or her soft quilt as she's falling asleep... Such a tight clutch, such a furrowed brow. Slowly her body relaxes and surrenders.
The tiny buds of teeth that have only just arrived! They are bumpy and ridged in their newness, and she is enjoying biting with them.
The put-on face of utter devastation that she shows me whenever something doesn't go her way. Dramatic, nose all scrunched, lips tight and wide, eyes squinty and full of rage. But there's a laugh lurking underneath it all.
The slap-slap-slap of her feet as she crawls with mighty speed. I hear this less and less now that she is walking. But when she's in hurry she reverts to the mode of transport she's long mastered.
Her emerging words... In the middle of the night now she'll actually ask for "boobooboo... boo" and I find it very hard to refuse her. She's starting to enunciate lots of new things, bird, book, brother...
The earnestness of her gaze as she "reads". Interactive books are her preference - glittery, touch-and-feel-, lift-the-flap.
Her smell. Like Otis, she smells so delicious. It's a clean, fresh smell mixed with something undefinable - a Peggyness that is sweet and salty and familiar.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Peace and quiet for two hours at least...
Yes, I do look forward to this time of day. Not quite as much as the moment I first get to lay eyes on my bubbas after waking, but the silence and the time to cook, and clean, and attend to all those little to-dos on my list... It's nice.
However, I have been worried about the progression of Peggy's naps, from two to one. I was expecting this would happen around the twelve month mark, but, as is characteristic of my girl, the change has occurred a few months early. About a week ago she started becoming more difficult to get down for both naps. Lots of silliness, squawking and laughing and then tears. So I bit the bullet, after Lan suggested I give one sleep a try. I was thinking I'd have to do them back-to-back - Peggy down 11-1, Otis 1:30-3:30, and that I'd lose my "free" time as a result. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but it would make life somewhat more challening. But, no, my girl has decided to make life easy for me, and has happily stayed up until 1pm almost every day for the past 4! It is now 3:15, Otis has been asleep for 2 hours exactly and she's been down for 2 hours, 20 minutes.
Go Booroo!!!
I know with Otis it was huge to get him to stay up until 11 at first! I slowly pushed him back to 12, then 1, and then sometimes 2, depending on Peggy.
They really are all so different!
Love that I am able to work this stuff out myself, in a way that suits my individual children and the type of family I strive to lead, without resorting to the likes of Gina Ford etc... I don't get those regimented, overtly scheduled books... Is parenting really a one-size-fits-all process?
However, I have been worried about the progression of Peggy's naps, from two to one. I was expecting this would happen around the twelve month mark, but, as is characteristic of my girl, the change has occurred a few months early. About a week ago she started becoming more difficult to get down for both naps. Lots of silliness, squawking and laughing and then tears. So I bit the bullet, after Lan suggested I give one sleep a try. I was thinking I'd have to do them back-to-back - Peggy down 11-1, Otis 1:30-3:30, and that I'd lose my "free" time as a result. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but it would make life somewhat more challening. But, no, my girl has decided to make life easy for me, and has happily stayed up until 1pm almost every day for the past 4! It is now 3:15, Otis has been asleep for 2 hours exactly and she's been down for 2 hours, 20 minutes.
Go Booroo!!!
I know with Otis it was huge to get him to stay up until 11 at first! I slowly pushed him back to 12, then 1, and then sometimes 2, depending on Peggy.
They really are all so different!
Love that I am able to work this stuff out myself, in a way that suits my individual children and the type of family I strive to lead, without resorting to the likes of Gina Ford etc... I don't get those regimented, overtly scheduled books... Is parenting really a one-size-fits-all process?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Responses to my girly's adventures on two feet...
People are funny. The people that love Peggy, or in fact, those who are secure enough in themselves to see her walking as cute and interesting rather than some sort of threat, just, very simply, "ooh" and "aah" over her endeavours as a two-footed pre-toddler.
Others, who obviously see my very awe-fuelled mention of it as inciting competition - something I've never been one to enter into... Otis was oddly early with any milestones and I never felt the need to defend this - immediately respond with "Oh, she's just keeping up with Otis". Funnily, these people are always mothers of one!
I don't think Peggy's early rolling, crawling, walking etc etc makes her smarter or more permanently physically capable than others. In fact, I think these things level out as babies get older - I know of many kids who did these things later and have grown into being particularly adept at the physical stuff (my niece Isla springs to mind, she's wonderful with a soccer ball). I also don't think it's about being the second sibling - I am pretty sure none of my siblings walked this early, and all four of them had me, at least, to chase after (not that I have ever been a fast runner!). I personally believe it is personality-driven. Peggy has had a stubborn, determined, feisty spirit from birth, and it is this desperation to move and grab and get that has made her the funny, ten-month-old toothless walker she is today!
Others, who obviously see my very awe-fuelled mention of it as inciting competition - something I've never been one to enter into... Otis was oddly early with any milestones and I never felt the need to defend this - immediately respond with "Oh, she's just keeping up with Otis". Funnily, these people are always mothers of one!
I don't think Peggy's early rolling, crawling, walking etc etc makes her smarter or more permanently physically capable than others. In fact, I think these things level out as babies get older - I know of many kids who did these things later and have grown into being particularly adept at the physical stuff (my niece Isla springs to mind, she's wonderful with a soccer ball). I also don't think it's about being the second sibling - I am pretty sure none of my siblings walked this early, and all four of them had me, at least, to chase after (not that I have ever been a fast runner!). I personally believe it is personality-driven. Peggy has had a stubborn, determined, feisty spirit from birth, and it is this desperation to move and grab and get that has made her the funny, ten-month-old toothless walker she is today!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Booroo is walking!
My precious little Peggy took her first steps on Thursday, 9th Sepember. 10 months and 1 week old. It is such a sight to see this tiny, slight, delicate little BABY walking around. Gorgeous. She's progressed to taking up to 6 or 7 steps at a time now.
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