Cottages and icecreams and tigers (Anna)

We've spent the last few days at "our cottage" at Bowen Island. The weather put on a gorgeous show for us, giving us two days of sun and warmth. We had a lovely weekend of throwing rocks into the ocean, hiking, playing, watching the sunset, eating good food (thanks to our resident chef Caroline) and planning our alternative life on the island.

One evening, we were introduced to some of the more difficult aspects of Emma's new (or at least newly expressed) pretend and imaginary life.

We were pottering in the cottage and Emma was playing. She came up to us and casually said, "I have a owie on my body. I have a hurt." So we asked her what the matter was, and she said, "A honey bee came an' bit me in the ear. And it hurts."

So suddenly we're thrown into the age-old dilemma of the parent. We want to believe her, we want her to come to us when she's hurt. We want her to learn that she will be believed, and we don't want to dismiss her injuries. On the other hand, she was playing jut a few metres away from us - surely we would have seen a bee? Surely some evidence of the bee would still be visible? Surely, if nothing else, she would be crying if she had just been stung by a bee? Besides, was this something that just happened, or is she remembering something that happened months ago (although we probably would have known about it then, too)?

Luckily, she solved the dilemma for us by continuing with her story. "And then a tiger run after me and eat me, so I give a icecream cone to the tiger. And I sing a lullaby to tiger."

And since we were even more sure that there was no tiger in the cottage than we were that there was no bee, we were off the hook. This time.

And a note for those postmodernists among you. We get that what she was saying was "true on some level". We realise that truth is not a fixed, definable quality. We couldn't agree more that the world of the imagination is far more real and substantial than most of the made-up stuff that happens in 'reality'. We would be the first to argue that "stories"and fiction are often the most pure form of truth. However, that line of thinking really isn't very reassuring as a parent. I mean, at some point you just need to know if your kid has just been stung by a bee!

Where did it go? (Anna)

A story from one of Emma's caregivers at daycare:

M: Emma, do you need to poo?
Emma: Yes. I need to poo.
(a few minutes later)
M: Emma. didn't you say you needed to poo?
Emma: Poo went away.
M: Oh, it went away. Where did it go?
Emma: Went shopping.
M: It went shopping?
Emma (patiently): Yes. The poo went away. Went shopping.

Monsters (Anna)

Emma's been going through another developmental quantum leap recently, with lots of new language and - very exciting - learning how to play make believe and pretend. We're a little in awe of the fact that her brain has developd to the point that she can now make up stories and scenarios and games that exist only in her imagination (as opposed to reporting things she has seen). And after several weeks of increasingly complex imaginative play, it is official.

Emma's room has monsters in it.

We found this out at around 3 this morning when we were cuddling our kid as she told us in long, winding sentences all about the scary monsters and how they were eating straberries and crackers in the corner of her room, and playing with the tiger. We tried shooing them away (like we taught Emma to do with flies in Australia) but apparently to no avail.

Parents of older kids have warned us that once monsters move in, it can take years for them to move out again. So, here we go.

Just as we were enjoying a full night of sleep. :(

The uncooperative drain (Anna

Emma in the bath, with the water draining out.

Emma: Where the water go, Mumma?
Mumma: It goes down the drain.
Emma: Oh. Water...down the drain. The blocks go down the drain, Mumma? (demonstrating with plastic blocks)
Mumma: No, the blocks won't go down the drain because they're too big.
Emma: Oh. (processes this) Blocks no go down the drain. This go down drain, Mumma? (trying to shove a large plastic ring down the drain)
Mumma: No. The ring won't go down the drain either. It's too big, as well. Only the water goes down the drain.
Emma: (discards the ring. Eyes light up with a terrific new idea) Emma go down the drain, Mumma?!!
Mumma: No. You're too big to down the drain, too. You wouldn't fit.
Emma: I wanna go down drain! Humph. (sits and looks disgruntled at the unaccomodating drain, then stands up) Out, please! No more bath!

Happy Birthday, Beautiful Girl!

Emma turned two today...She had a new party dress...

Last night, we had a small dinner party in honour of the birthday girl. L, N and J, you were missed! Emma was happy that there were party hats...

And the party blowers created great merriment...

It took her a few attempts to blow out her candle, but she did it eventually...

This morning, there were presents waiting for her at breakfast time...

She was just playing with one of her new toys (whizzing her toy cars round and round the spiral highway) when the doorbell rang...and a beautiful bouquet of balloons arrived from Granny Heath and Grandad....

And while Emma played with her cars and her new baby stroller, we had a party to prepare for...She had asked for a blue cake, so we made it into a fish covered with smarties...Luckily, Auntie Kim was on hand to help - it took all three of us to get everything ready...

Lots of Emma's friends were at the party to help her celebrate, and she got lots of thoughtful and beautiful presents (thanks everyone!)...

And cake...

And face painting (the face painting artist was Kim)

After the party, we sank onto the couch exhausted. Emma meanwhile, decided that she liked having her face painted - and that she could do it herself. (Her bath tonight was longer than usual as a result).

All in all, a wonderful birthday weekend for our big girl. Thank you to everyone who has sent her their good wishes - if we weren't limited to iniviting only those people who live in our approximate geographical vicinity, we would have needed a much bigger cake!

2

And...she's two!

Happy birthday, Emma!

Retrospective - 2 years in photos