More toddler fury (Anna)

Emma is beautiful when she's furious, even if her fury is also exasperating and exhausting. Which probably sounds very patronizing about her very considerable anger, but there you go.

This morning, we heard the rubbish truck outside so I picked Emma up to look out of the back window. We watched it (the truck, not the window)pick up 3 or 4 bins and turn them upside down , and we listened to its chomping sounds, and we talked about what it was doing.

And then it drove out of sight.

"More!" Emma demanded.

"But it's gone," I told her, and then corrected that to, "It's out of sight. Look. It's around the corner. We can't see it any more."

"More!" she said. "More! More!"

But her terrible, horrible, nasty cruel mother wouldn't make the rubbish truck come back into view, and so there was no more to be had.

She was furious with me, sobbing and crying and screaming, "More!" at me and sinking to the ground in torment. Nothing I could do or say appeased her or distracted her. If she had the language, she would have said, "How can you expect me to be distracted with a cuddle, a book or a saucepan when the rubbish truck has gone!!"

This lasted for a good five minutes, which is a considerable time to be listening to that awful toddler shriek. By the end of it, I was quite inclined to show her the INSIDE of the rubbish truck.

And eventually, I did something that wasn't quite as mean, or she got bored, or something, and peace reigned again.

Sorry, Emmy. I didn't mean to ruin your day.

Two fathers video (Anna)

This has got over 2 million hits on You Tube so far.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qf0puHJ-KM

More moos'k (Anna)

Music is a pretty constant thing in our house, whether it's kids songs, classical, pop, alternative, instrumental or whatever else we feel like. It's often on in the background when we eat, sometimes we sing to it and sometimes we dance to it.

I was having dinner with Emma tonight and we had Tracy Chapman playing in the background. The CD came to an end, but I didn't really notice.
Then Emma started saying "more?"
I said, "more what? What do you want more of? Tofu? Carrot? Rice? Water?"
And she pointed at the IPod and said "more? More...moos'k."

So I started the CD again, and we continued dinner. I started to sing along to Tracy and Emma quietly ate her dinner (apparently, she's a big fan of miso tofu). And then I stopped singing for some reason and Emma looked at me and said "more!" So I started singing again and every time I stopped, Emma clapped her hands and said "more!"

Ladies and gentlemen, who am I to argue? More music it is.

Vashti (Anna)

One of Emma's caregivers at day care is moving on to a new position, so we had to say goodbye this morning.

Vashti - we'll miss you!

Getting better and updates (Anna)

Emma's on the mend, after a brutal four days of fever, crying and misery. The only part I didn't join in on was the fever. And Caroline's program has launched, which is quite the relief.

Heroes of the week:

- Our next-door neighbours, for bringing us a meal (a healthy meal!) one night when cooking felt impossible. There was even enough for lunch the next day. You have earned yourself loyalty for life.

- Our neighbour a few doors down, for making it possible for me to attend Caroline's opening ceremony, and taking Emma for a while when she started climbing up the seats, so that I could see the performance of my script. Thank you!

- The little blue truck, whose beeping through the city has got us through many long hours over the past few days. I love you dearly, little blue truck, and if there has to be a favourite book that gets read over and over...and over and over...I'm glad it's you. But, really, I would be happy never to see you ever again. I predict that you will get lost under the bed in the very near future.


A few updates:

Emma is now tall enough to reach for a bowl of cereal on the kitchen bench and upend it all over her head. Our knowledge of this new trick is, unfortunately, more than just theoretical.

Yesterday, one of her sandals was wet (why was her sandal wet? Oh right. Somebody in our house likes to throw things into the bath...I've tried to tell Caroline to stop it...) She put her foot in it, and then said "No. Wet. No". When did our daughter start to have a problem with wearing wet sandals? And when did she learn the word "wet"?

When she wakes up from a nap on our bed, instead of bawling and waiting for us to go and get her, she happily wriggles off the bed, toddles to the top of the stairs and calls "Mumma?"

She loves to identify everyone. She points to me. "Mumma". She points to Caroline. "Mumma" (we say, "Mummy!" and she repeats Mummy, but then reverts back to Mumma.) And then she points to herself and says "Em-ma."

Alas, gone are the days when any book would do as long as she was cuddled up on our laps and could turn the pages. Now she has - horror! - preferences and will say no ten times if she needs to before we offer her the book she wants.

She is crazy about cars, buses, trucks and aeroplanes.

Poor thing (Anna)

Emma's sick, poor thing, with some kind of virus (fever and rash included at no extra price). The timing couldn't be worse - Caroline is about to go into the busiest two weeks of her year. So Emma and I are bunked down at home, while she cries and looks at me like I'm letting her down cos I can't take it all away. I'm hoping that the next 24 hour cycle includes more than the four hours of sleep (yes, that's total) she and I both got in the last 24 hours.

R.I.P little toothbrush (Anna)

R.I.P Emma's toothbrush.

Emma's toothbrush, a regular guest in our home, died an untimely death this morning in the toilet bowl of the upstairs bathroom, at the hands of a curious toddler.

Although having a reputation by some for having a rather bristly character, Toothbrush was known by close family for her soft side, and will be remembered fondly for her love of being held close and the obvious joy she experienced while dancing in circles. She had a calm, even temperement that held her in good stead during the bitings and meltdowns that were a frequent part of her chosen line of work.

Experts speculate that the last sounds Toothbrush would have heard were "splash" and a babe's delighted chuckle.

Although revival is sometimes possible in cases of toothbrush drowning, it is exceptionally rare when the body of water involved is a toilet.

A contrary little creature (Anna)

Emma has adopted an adorable habit of saying "Noooooo" and shaking her head...at everything.

At the end of a meal, "Do you want to go down, Emma?"
"Noooo" (shakes her head)
"So you want to stay in your high chair?"
"Noooo" (shakes her head)

At bed-time, "Are you ready for bed, Emmy?"
"Noooo" (shakes her head)
"So you want to stay up a bit longer?
"Noooo" (shakes her head)

Outside, "Do you want to go in?"
"Nooooo" (shakes her head)
"So you want to stay outside?"
"Noooo" (shakes her head)

Often, luckily, the noooo has nothing to do with a corresponding action.
In the bath, "Sit down, little one. Sit on your bum."
"Nooooo' (shakes her head fervently - while sitting down and doing exactly what she's been asked to do.)

But, if we say "Do you want a kiss?" she still says "Mmmmwhaaaa." So all is good in the world.

She also can't get enough of her books at the moment. Sometimes, we're not sure what she needs or is asking for, so a conversation might look like this:

"Are you tired?" (+ sign for sleep)
"noooo" (shakes her head)
"Are you thirsty?" (+ sign for drink)
"noooo" (shakes her head)
"Do you have a poo?" (+ sign for dirty nappy)
"noooo" (shakes her head)
"Are you hungry?"(+ sign for food)
"noooo" (shakes her head)
"Do you want to go outside?"
"noooo" (shakes her head)
Do you need a cuddle?"
"noooo" (shakes her head - usually holding out her arms to be picked up)
Do you want to play?
"noooo" (shakes her head)
"Would you like a book?"
"Buk?" Her eyes light up and suddenly she's interested. She nods frantically before dashing off to collect a pile. She comes back to us, presents us with a suitable selection, and shows us which one she wants first. Then she turns around, backs into our lap and plops down, expectantly. And the noooos stop for another few minutes, while she happily goes through her new words, all of which include exclamation marks as part of their spelling: "train!" "air-pla-!" "orange!" "star!" "'pider!" "purple!""blo-!" "bucket!" "blanket!"etc etc, occasionally intercepted by the urgent need to point to us and say "Mumma" or "Mummy" (still a little indiscrimately - most days,we're both just Mumma) or lable our nose (another "no-"), eyes and ears. Every day, there are new words we didn't know she knew.

She also points to the pictures on the wall and declares "Em-ma!"

Off topic ruminations (Anna)

There's a bible shop near us. At the moment, there's a sign outside that reads:

Sale

Fiction 4.99
Non-fiction 5.99

So my question is, how much would I pay for a bible?

Emma-envy (Anna)

Emma hasn't been sleeping well recently, which means she has two Mums who are exhausted.

I wish a kind, caring person would come up to my desk at work and say, "Hiya, little one. I noticed that you're getting a bit cranky. I think someone needs a nap. Let's go and get some sleep, hey?" And they would take whatever writing I was working on and lay it down gently, reach under my arms and pick me up. My colleagues would blow kisses at me and say "bye-bye" or "nigh-nigh" as I went past.

My protector would carry me to a comfy bed, stroking my head as it lolls on their shoulder. Then they would lie me down gently, tuck a bunny under my arm and a blanket over my bum. They would say, softly "Sleepy-sleep, my little one." And then, while I started to drift off into a deep slumber, they would sing made-up lullabies to me in a soft voice, and gently kiss my cheeks. If I woke up and cried, they would tuck me back in and say, "Back to sleep. It's ok" in that funny sing-song voice reserved for babies and pat my back rhythmically, and I would go back to sleep for as long as I needed to.

This was my fantasy today. I think my workplace should seriously consider adding this service to our extended benefits plan.

First fury (Anna)

Emma is going through lots of major cognitive shifts at the moment, including creating short sentences. "Bye bye Mummy" rather than just "Bye bye" or "Hello cat" rather than just "Hello".

And last night, we saw the full force of her toddler fury when things don't go her way. She was so angry at being told to go to sleep, she grabbed her blanket and threw it across the room at us. When that didn't seem to change anything, she threw her treasured bunny at us. Neither of us have ever seen her deliberately throw things in rage before. We've seen her throw whatever happens to be in her hand in frustration, but never deliberately grabbing something with the expressed intention of sending it hurling in our direction furiously.

I suspect there'll be more to come. Seems that our little one has some opinions of her own. We will, of course, discourage them - after all, neither of her parents is stubborn and has opinions ;)