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 ;)

Bye-bye (Anna)

It's getting harder and harder to get Emma out of the door. She insists on saying bye bye to as many inanimate objects as possible as we walk out, and has to make eye contact with each of them. So the walk down the hallway can take five minutes while she says bye-bye to the chair,a pair of socks, the mirror, our sneakers, the wall, the door, the floorboards, any clothes that are hanging around, the letter box, the wall...you get the picture. It's a bit like "Goodnight Moon".

If there's anything with a face on it, it's even harder. She says bye bye, but then has to run through her "face vocab" - nose, eyes, ears, teeth, tongue, cheek, etc, sometimes several times. ("Yes, little one. It's STILL a nose. Just like it was the last 20 times you asked...")

And she has developed more emotional needs as well. At bed time a week ago, she suddenly decided it was extremely important to cuddle her bunny and pull her blanket up (both of which she had previously ignored). Then, last night, she wouldn't sleep until I had kissed the bunny goodnight on its nose as well as hers. She did make it easy for me to figure out, holding the bunny up to my face and saying "Mmmmwhhma pliz" until I kissed it.

Her vocab is exploding - new words every day, and she has the most wonderful giggle in the world. Neither talking nor giggling are things she'll do with a camera in her face, so we'll just have to enjoy the moment and not worry too much about capturing it for prosterity.

We are torn between wanting her to keep getting older so we can see what else she has in store for us, and wanting her to stay this age forever.

Puh-lease, Mum Part 2 (Anna)

There's a sock - adult size - on the bedroom floor, so she brings it up to me.
"Pliz", she says, frantically tapping her chest with the sign for please. She hands me the sock.
I take it.
"Hi," I say. "You've got a sock."
She looks at me expectantly, and says "pliz" a little louder.
"Shall I put it on?" I ask. "Shall I put the sock on my foot?" and I start to put the sock on my foot.
She grabs it off me and hands it to me again.
I take it.
"Pliz," she insists.
"Would you like me to put it on YOUR foot?" I ask and bend down to put the sock on HER foot.
She growls, like a little lion, and looks at me impatiently. She pulls the sock away from her foot and puts it in my hand.
"Pliz," she says, scowling.
I play peek-a-boo with it. I tickle her nose with it. I fly it around the room like a sick pigeon. I throw it on the floor. I throw it in the air. I throw it in the bath. All of this is wrong, and she is getting angrier and angrier at me. She has stopped asking nicely, resorting to a fingernail-on-chalkboard screech every time I get it wrong.
She grabs the sock and walks away. I didn't know that toddlers could huff. She turns her back on me in disgust.
Luckily, our daughter is patient and kind with slow learners, so she comes back a few moments later and generously gives me another chance.
"Pliz," she says, with a huge toothy grin, as if I have been deliberately holding out on her and she has to up the ante, laying on the cute factor. She is extremely cute and I'm not trying to teach her important world lessons abot the fact that she can't always get what she wants. I am genuinely baffled.
I tickle her belly with it, knowing that's not what she wants, but hoping beyond hope that it might work. I put the sock on my head and make a silly face. She laughs, but then gets back to business.
"Pliz," she says.
I put it on HER head.
And...she melts down. She cries. And cries. I am a terrible mother and have let her down in the worst possible way. She will never forgive me. She concedes to being cuddled, but cries all the way out the bedroom. All the way down the stairs. All the way along the hall. Her face is red, her eyes scrunched up. I can see her tonsils. It is the end of the world.

Eventually, she gets distracted by a little metal tin that she absolutely must explore. She wriggles out of my arms to go and play, and peace reigns again.


Later, I tell Caroline about my colossal failure as a parent. She smiles and tells me in less than two seconds what Emma was asking for.

"Hand puppets!"

Duh. Of course.

Puh-lease, Mum? (Anna)

Emma has well and truly mastered the art of saying please when she wants something. She does the sign for please on her chest and says earnestly "Pliz?"

Unfortunately, she doesn't yet have the language to tell us what it she wants. So while she is to be commended on her beautiful manners, half the time we have absolutely no idea what she's asking for. At first, it was obvious - she wanted what we had, or would point to something and ask us to pass it to us. But now, she's getting more subtle. And she seems to be going through a phase where she thinks that please replaces the need for all other words, so even when she has the word or the sign for what she wants, "pliz" is all we get.

From the other side of the park, she might very well repeat please over and over, getting increasingly frustrated with all the things we pass her ("Your bucket? A drink?") or offer her
("A cuddle? Thrown in the air? A cracker?") until we finally figure out that she wants to go on the swing that we didn't even know she had seen.

No wonder toddlers are known for having tantrums. They must think we adults are a little slow when we don't understand what it so obvious to them.