Quote of the Day (Anna)

"Mumma, I will be your ocean."

Too tired to read? (Anna)

After a busy day of sun at the beach and the pool, Emma was pretty tired this evening. So tired, she even asked, "Mumma-Mummy take me to bed?" (For the record, this is extremely rare. Like most kids, she will deny that she is tired even when she can't hold her head up with exhaustion).

Caroline immediately said, "Yes. Up we go" and jumped up to take Emma up for a bath. But Emma, being a two-year-old, dropped back into negotiation mode, asking for, "Two more minutes. Please?" apparently fogetting that she had put the whole idea in motion in the first place.

She's got into the habit of reading ("all by myself") before going to sleep. It started off as just one book for a few minutes, after story time. The other night, the first thing she did before she settled on my lap for stories was to organize her own reading materials - eight books in all; apparently, she was anticipating a long night. Once she's ready to sleep (generally later than we're ready for her to sleep) she tucks them in next to her along with all her teddies and stuffed animals (we unload her bed each night, so that she actually has room to roll over).

This evening, when I went up stairs to check on her, she was fast asleep, dead to the world. She had two books - open - on her head, and another two on her chest. Apparently, she was so exhausted she couldn't even bring herself to finish a book.

Tucked in (Anna)

Last night, I mentioned that I was really tired. So Emma offered to put me to bed. "I put you to bed, and I tuck you in, and I read you a story, and I sing you a lullaby, and I give you a kiss," she offered. "That sounds lovely," I replied.

A few hours later Caroline told her it was bedtime and Emma said, "No, it's Mumma's bedtime. I put Mumma to bed. Upstairs, Mumma!" And she put her warm little hand in mine and pulled me up the stairs. She pushed me into bed and took off my glasses, then bunched the duvet over my chest and neck and declared, "I tuck you in!" Then she sang me a one line lullaby (which went "Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby") and went to close the bedroom door. Before she left, she declared, "Your feet need to be tucked in," so she wrestled with the duvet until it was covering my feet as well and gave me a soft kiss on my cheek. Then she tucked a book in gently under the covers with me (she sees her books and stuffed animals as interchangeable as bed companions, and often sleeps with both). "Shh, Mumma," she instructed, and she closed the door on me.

Very sweet.

Now if only she would do the dishes while I slept as well :)

Exploration (Anna)

I love the fact that our kid explores the world, tries things out, tests hypotheses and treads where noone (well she) has never trod before.

Except, of course, when she does things that make me nervous and that I don't want her to do. Like - now, what would be an example...oh I know - like at dinner when she started to shove chick peas up her nose to see what would happen.

I dunno much about biology, but that can't be good for her, especially when she insists on sniffing instead of blowing.

Secretly chuffed (Anna)

I love how Emma greets us after being away from us.

Sometimes, she comes running up with big hugs and kisses saying, "Mumma, Mummy!"

But mostly, her reaction is a bit more understated. She generally continues to do what she's doing, almost as if she wants to pretend she hasn't seen us. But a big, gentle grin spreads across her face as if she's really chuffed, and she sort of flops her head around in happiness. She lets out a bit of a squeal and sort of jumps up and down, then looks around to check that everyone can see that her Mums are there. Then she'll usually go back to what she was doing, but obviously conscious that we are there and watching - and she'll show us whatever new thing she can do or that she's proud of - before coming over for a hug and a nuzzle. I love how happy it makes her to see us again.

Of course, sometimes, she just completely ignores us and doesn't seem to care whether we've made an entrance or not. But we know she's secretly pleased ;)

Family (Anna)

Emma was talking about family tonight, and she rattled off that she has a Mumma, a Mummy, a Grandad, a Granny Heath and a Grandpa. Then we were talking about the relationships i.e. Granny Heath and Grandad are Mumma's Mummy and Daddy, and Grandpa is Mummy's Daddy, and talked briefly about Caroline's Mum as well, etc

Then she asked: "I have two Mums?"
Me: That's right.
Her: Mumma have two Mums?
Me: No. Emma has two Mums, Mumma and Mummy, but Mumma has a Mummy and a Daddy - Granny Heath and Grandad. (try saying that three times quickly - but Emma didn't have any difficulty following it)
Her: [her eyes going wide] Mumma not have two Mums?
Me: No. I have one Mum and one Dad.
Her: [disbelieving] You not have two Mums?! Awww.

And she reached out to stroke me in the same way she does when we hurt ourselves and have an owie. I'm pretty sure that my daughter is feeling sorry for me that I only have one Mum!

A great job (Anna)

I read somewhere once that one of the most important jobs of a parent is to plant the right "voices" in your kids' minds, which they then internalize and use as an internal "compass" (excuse the mixed metaphor) for self-esteem, self-identity, resiliency, courage, risk-taking, etc.

Today, at the playground, Emma was climbing up a high and very wobbly rope ladder, and we had been cheering her on.

Sometime around the 10th climb up, we got some idea of what we had been planting in her head. She looked down at us, grinning and said, "I doing a great job!"

Yes, you are, little one. Yes you are.

Persistence (Anna)

For Emma's birthday back in March, we gave her a tricycle with pedals. She's been practicing riding it almost every day since, but for the longest time, she didn't have the strength to push the pedals properly. She's still had fun with it but often just used her feet to propel herself along the ground and sometimes got frustrated that she could see what needed to happen but couldn't make her legs do it.

Today, she was finally ready to ride her bike all the way to the park and back, using the pedals.

One day in the future, when she is struggling with something and wanting to give up, we will remind her of the time it took her almost four months of turning up every day to master her first trike. Depending on how old she is, she'll either put her head down and keep practicing, or, more likely, roll her eyes at us in embarrassment at being reminded that she was once a toddler. Either way, we're proud of her now and I'm pretty sure we'll be proud of her then, too.

I Not Running Late (Anna)

I asked Emma to speed up her porridge eating this morning on the grounds that we were running late.

She calmly looked at me and said, "Actchly [actually] I not running late. Mumma and Mummy running late. I not running late." And she calmly returned to searchign for blueberries in her porridge.

I stand corrected!

(Could have said, but didn't, "Well, then. I'll be getting off to work and you can take yourself off to daycare when you're ready.")