I love you, pea soup (Anna)

Emma had pea soup tonight for dinner.

A few hours later, Caroline was saying good night to her, and said "I love you, little Monkey".

Emma reciprocated by giving her a big sloppy kiss and saying "I yove 'ou pea soup."

Caroline grinned and said, "Hmm. I've never been called pea soup before, but I'll take it!"

Magical moments

Anna: We were at the first day of the first ever German Christmas market in Vancouver tonight, a big deal for our Canadian/German (and English/Australian) family.

There was live music playing, and everyone was standing around drinking gluhwein. It was cold and Emma was dressed up in her new snow suit (which she calls her snow soup). She started playing with the decorations around the end of the stage - Christmas lights and baubles.

She asked, "What dat?" and I said "It's a Christmas bauble." She stared at it. I leaned in to give her a cuddle and look over her shoulder. I could see her reflection in the bauble.

I hope I will never forget the look on her face. One day, when she's older, she will probably scoot by the Christmas decorations without a second thought. But there is something magical about a toddler experiencing beauty. She had this amazingly profound expression on her face - of absolute awe and wonder - and after a long pause where she was completely still, she whispered "Emma's bauble" like she was in a trance. If you had to find a single image of the wonder that you get when you combine kids with Christmas, it would have been the look on her sweet little face looking back at me from that bauble.

So of course I did the only thing that any reasonable parent would do when they have their arms around their child, smelling her soft hair and watching her mouth form a little "O" of wonder - I started crying. Just to myself. Silent tears rolling down my cheek while I kissed her hair and sung a Christmas carol in her ear. And then she moved on to the next thing.

Caroline: I was standing in line at one of the stalls. Anna had gone speeding off after Emma, who was cheerfully zooming through the crowds. A guy in the line said, "Wow. That is the cutest kid I have ever seen." And I looked up to see where he was pointing so I could see the cute kid too. And he was pointing to Emma, who was staring at a Christmas bauble as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. She was the cutest kid I've ever seen too! Anna was leaning behind her, looking as well. And I thought, "My family!" And then I thought "Hah! My girl, my baby, and a German Christmas market! Not a bad life at all."

Important milestones (Anna)

1) Possession is extremely important to Emma at the moment. Everything is "Emma's". She will entertain the possibility that some things belong to other people e.g. "Mumma's shoes" or "Mummy's jacket" but belonging to her is definitely the default, and if nobody lays claim to something first, it's declared to be hers.

This morning, looking at the construction site opposite her day care, she pointed up high in the sky and said, "Emma's crane!"

We're so proud of her. She's not even two and she already owns a crane. *sniff* That's our girl.


2) She's getting interested in counting. At bedtime, counting ducks in one of her books, she said: "Two, nine, 'even (seven), fee (three), one, ten, yellow."


3) It's funny how her idea of what's real and imaginery is completely different from ours. I was playing with her tonight on the floor. We started rocking back and forth together, which could have ended up with Rock-a-bye-baby, or "My Grandfather's Clock" or waltzing, or gymnastics, or penguins or any number of other things, depending on what came out of my mouth. Tonight, it became us in a boat together, with a storm coming. We rocked back and forth, and battened down the hatches and secured the sail, and pulled on some ropes. And we made loud thunder noises, and the noise of the waves crashing against the boat, and lightening noises (yes - lightening makes a noice. It sounds kind of like "Kachoom") and kept rocking back and forth. The rain (our fingers) beat down on our heads. She thought it was great.

The storm got bigger and bigger and we got scared that maybe we were going to capsize and end up in the water. We clung to each other and tried to keep our balance but the waves were getting bigger and the boat was tipping from side to side. We kept making the thunder and wave noises and the rain kept beating down on our head. We made "whoa" sounds and shrieked. And then, sure enough, the boat did capsize and Emma and Mumma fell overboard into the water. Splash! We gasped because the water was cold. The waves were crashing on our heads now. "The boat's going under! Aaaaagh!!"

Once we got our bearings, we started swimming. Arms windmilling over our heads, we swam as hard as we could, getting faster and faster and more and more puffed as we exerted ourselves. The thunder kept growling (yes, thunder growls. It sounds like a sleepy lion). All good.

And then I said something like, "Let's head for land. Look there's an island." And I pointed behind Emma's head. And sudddenly it wasn't a game any more. She looked behind her, saw the rocking chair and got a terrified look on her face. "Island!" she screamed and started crying. She ran over to Caroline, yelling, "Mummy, Mummy." She hid in her legs, giving furtive glances back at the rocking chair as if it was a fire-breathing dragon.

That was the end of the game. I don't know what she thinks an island is, but I'm fascinated that being on a tipping boat in the middle of a thunderstorm, being washed overboard and having to swim for your life are just lots of fun and cause for giggles, while an island is cause for terror. And why was the island suddenly real for her when all the rest of it was just being silly with Mumma?

Yeah!! (Anna)

Yesterday, Emma celebrated one of her friend's birthdays.

Then last night at bedtime, after a long period of being completely silent and listening to lullabies, she suddenly said "Birthday!"

And she went on: "Emma's birthday."She thought for a moment and then said, "Emma's cake..." Apparently, she liked this idea because she broke out in a huge grin, and then exclainmed, "Yeah!"And she chortled to herself.

Clearly the cogs are turning in there, and birthday cake helps them to turn.

Dramatis Personae (Anna)

For a long time, Emma didn't particularly care about her stuffed animals and things either way. But in the last few weeks, they have become very important to her. Each night, there's a new animal that simply must be tucked into bed with her, and in the morning she gathers up at least three of them in her arms and looks at us as if to say, "Ok, NOW, I'm ready." And she definitely notices when they're missing.

Random bits and pieces (Anna)

1) Emma has developed the cutest little grumpy face and pout. It's so absolutely adorable it's a little hard to take her grumps seriously.

2) She's mastered the phrase, "I want to play!!" She says it very loudly and grumpily - employing the full newfound pout - any time we interrupt said play.

3) I had a very annoying interaction with another parent the other day. Emma decided to go into full melt-down mode when I picked her up from day care - a combination of being taken away from the red car she was playing with, and end-of-the-week I'm-tired-and-just-need-to-stop blues. Most of the time, we can find a way to deflate her melt downs, but sometimes only a change of scenario is going to help, so I was getting her out of there as soon as I could. Several parents made eye contact with me over the top of Emma's head with that understanding "Toddlers, huh" look or the "We've all gone through it. Hang in there" look, or rolled their eyes sympathetically. And then one parent, whose daughter was calmly sitting in his arms while he put her jacket on (which, honestly, is how Emma is most of the time, too!), said narkily, "Huh. She's totally the opposite to my daughter. SHE can't wait to come home with us. She misses us." The implication being, of course, that Emma hates us, hates her home life, much prefers day care and doesn't miss us at all. Just the kind of support you need when you have a toddler screaming in your ear. (Emma, by the way, kept up her tantrum all the way to the gate, long enough for every single caregiver and parent in the place to decide that I must be a terrible parent, before magically switching it off and nuzzling me and giggling affectionately as soon as we got to the elevator. Toddlers, huh!)

Swapseys (Anna)

We were having dinner tonight and Emma was drinking milk from her sippy cup. Caroline was drinking milk too, but from a glass. Emma was very upset that she got stuck with some baby cup while Mummy got to be a big girl.

So they swapped, and for the rest of the meal, Caroline drank out of the sippy cup and Emma drank out of the glass.

We're thinking this swapping thing could work for us. Tonight, we're going to let Emma stay up, tidy up the house and do the dishes while we go to bed at 7.30 and get sung to sleep.

She sings! (Anna)

If I had to identify a day when Emma started actually singing songs, it might be today.

Instead of dancing, joining in on the occasional word, babbling indiscriminately or prompting us with the first few words of a song and then leaving it up to us, today she attempted full songs, with distinctive words, rhythms and pitches. We had a good ol' singalong at bedtime.

Focusing on the positive (Anna)

We've had a terrible few days. No major lifechanging catastrophes, but the kind of weekend where most things that could have gone wrong, have, and we've hit Sunday evening feeling wrung out and needing a weekend to recover. Actually, it would be hard to imagine having a worst few days in so many different ways.

So, in an attempt to focus on the positive:

Emma has learnt to string together sentences beginning with "I want to". But she's missing a few verbs. So, for example, she wanted to look at a baby photo of herself that was hanging on the wall, and asked "I want to picture off wall". She wanted to go for a walk, so she asked, "I want to shoes on, pliz."

Our car almost got towed from right in front of our house. (When Caroline went racing out as the truck was backing towards our car, the tow truck guy literally ran back to his truck so he could speed up the process of connecting the lever-thing to our car, so he could then charge us the towing and release fee. Grrr.). That's not the positive. This is: Emma stood at the window crying, "Emma's car! Emma's car!" It was incredibly sweet. (I almost wanted to take her outside so the tow truck guy would have to wrestle with his conscience over being such a bully that he made a toddler cry :)) I guess from her point-of-view, Caroline was out there in the role of protective Mummy, making sure that Emma's car was safe.

Emma was having a hard time going to bed tonight. Usually, after bath time, story time, teeth time, etc, we cuddle her on our lap, sing to her and rock her, then put her into bed and stroke her head for a moment or two before she goes to sleep. Tonight, she didn't want to lie down and was crying, so I told her that I would keep singing to her if she lay down and let me tuck her in. As soon as I said that, she happily lay down. I knelt beside her bed for quite a while singing Mumma songs (a.k.a. completely made up on the spot, never-to-be-repeated chants). I thought she was asleep, so after a while I stopped singing and got up to go to the door. She looked up bleerily and said, in a very sleepy voice, "More, Mumma?" and so I sang a little longer. It was a beautiful moment. I can't imagine an audience I would rather sing to; I love that I can help my baby feel peaceful and loved when she goes to sleep.

A few months ago, Emma was having a really hard time with doctors' appointments, getting inconsolably upset when a doctor tried to examine her (to the point where doctors couldn't hear her heart beat because she was crying too hard). So we brought her a play doctor's kit and have been "practising" at home a lot, letting her check our chest, look in our ears, take our blood pressure etc, and then "examining" her. And it seems to have paid off - she has had several doctor's appointments in the last week, and has been calm in every one of them, even when they have been looking in her ears (something that used to make her scream). It helps that she also now has the comprehension skills that we can tell her that it's just like her medical kit at home and that seems to resonate. We're really proud of her!!

Monkey see... (Anna)

Emma eats very little chocolate or candy, so going trick and treating for Halloween and being given a few pieces of chocolate was a huge treat for her.

Tonight, Caroline and I were making dinner and Emma discovered a mini Snickers bar left over from Halloween. She brought it up to us and said "Open, pliz."

We said something like, you know "Nice try, small fry, but you're not having chocolate and even if you were, it wouldn't be just before dinner." And we took it off her. She whined for a moment, reaching up to try to retrieve it from where we had put it.

Then she had a brilliant idea. She declared, "Monkey!" and went and got her monkey Halloween costume. She brought the headpiece to us (yes, the same headpiece she had refused to wear the whole weekend) and asked us to put it on her. Then, she said, "Chocolate??" with a huge hopeful grin.

So we've taught our kid that if she wants chocolate, she has to dress up as a monkey. A rather bizarre lesson to learn, I must say.

Update (Anna)

I posted a while ago about Emma learning colours, and how her default for a while was red, and then it changed to yellow. Well, it changed to green after that.

Now, whenever we ask E what colour something is, more often than not, she'll say something like, "red yellow blue green black purple".

Well, I guess if you come up with enough options, you're more likely to get it right! (I wonder if that tactic will serve her well when she has to write exams)

Being somewhat - shall we say - facetious, I sometimes have to prevent myself from proclaiming "You're right! Such a clever girl!! It IS red yellow blue green black purple!"