Christmas cards - a labour of love

Outtakes and the whole sorry tale can be seen on Facebook. This link will take you there, even if you are still stubbornly holding out.

The Crab

Apparently a baby will typically crawl for 500 hours before they walk, so Alice may get on her pods by age 3. One of the usual triggers - wanting to carry something - is not going to work. Alice has found a way to get from A to B with a shapey thing in her hands.

The Big Day Out

Alice had her daycare orientation session this morning. It started at 9am, so we all got up and ready as a practice run. Everything went quite well - our human alarm clock woke us at 6.30am (after a false start at 3am - someone must have set her incorrectly) and we were out of the house, fed, clean and with packed lunches by 8am. The packed lunches won't be a feature of the usual routine, so I think that - with some practice - we'll get into a good rhythm. My plan is for Stu to park the car and drop her off and for me to get to work by 8am, so things will need to get started a just little earlier.

The orientation went well. Alice went off and explored the room and made a couple of little friends, with appropriately trendy names of Grace and Oscar, to the constant echo of "Gently" from the staff. We gave details of her sleeping and eating routine and how much milk she needs and at what time and received a backpack and a sun hat in return.

That done, Alice was completely worn out and napped in her stroller for 90 odd minutes while I visited one of the last remaining Starbucks in Sydney and had my first GBL of the season, while relaxing with the newspaper in the sunshine. I did well to stock up on both energy and vitamin D, as the rest of the day was fairly hectic and overcast.

We set off for David Jones, to seek our fortune in the only known parents room (to me) in the CBD. Quel horreur - it is on 6th floor and can only be reached by the same lifts that every parent west of Anzac Parade seemed to be using that day, to visit Santa. The queues for Santa snaked around the floor and it seemed that every parent and child in the store was crying. It was a bun fight to get to a change station, but we made it through, heated up lunch and escaped within about 45 minutes. My plans to visit the Aquarium scuppered, but my smugness in having seen Santa in the Bondi David Jones (where there were no tears, tantrums or indeed other children to be seen) not abated, we vainly sought a high chair and ended up dining in a shopping mall somewhere. I dined, Alice spat her food all over everything in sight, as is her current wont.

It was drawing close to the highlight of the day and so in my usual cursed state of being first to arrive everywhere I go, (except when meeting my grandparents where we all turn up 2 hours early and everyone - except Stu and Nanna - is happy) we set off to the Opera House. Alice and I have made some fab friends this year and amongst them is Little Friend Linnea's Mum, Natalie, who was performing in Opera Australia's "Christmas at the House", alongside David Hobson and Yvonne Kenny. We were so early that we were able to take full advantage of the disabled access (around the maze that is the bowels of the opera house, past the kitchens and the stage door), check the stroller into the cloakroom, have a look at the view of the bridge and still have at least 25 minutes for Mummy to wish she could have a glass of champers or at least to book an interval drink.

Alice enjoyed the performance greatly - entering the theatre felt a little like entering a 747, with everyone around us sighing, avoiding our eyes and then remarking loudly that, "Oh God, there's a baby next to us" - and behaved impeccably. She was a little chatty during a poem and a solo, but perked up in joyful voice to join Auntie Natalie in "Angels we have heard on high" during the chorus, "Gloor-or-or-or-or-oor-or-or-or-or-oor-or-or-or-or-oooooor-ia" and was spellbound during the 'Twelve days of Christmas' when all four soloists were on the stage and there was much ado and operative noise for the five gold rings. She nodded off happily in my arms during the interval and snoozed through a couple of orchestral pieces, a poem and right through some ditties to Ave Maria when the tumultuous applause woke her up.

Top three moments are reserved for the bouncing during 'Six white boomers' which had Alice giggling and jumping (link to song included for the brits http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=hlSsffF2xhA), the lady next to me who remarked, "Ooh, wasn't she good. In fact, you made more noise than her when you dropped her bottle in that quiet moment" (grind that knife, sista!) and Alice's loud belch during the 'Little Drummer Boy', "par-rum-pah-pum-burrrrrrp".

All in all, it was terribly exciting and very festive. After weeks of debating with one of the Auntie Kates which carol service to go to, I'm confident that we over-delivered in our usual fashion. And if all the local churches choose to do their carol services after bedtime, then what is a baby to do?

Not very many photos of our exploits due to Alice being asleep, spitting or in an auditorium for most of the day, but here she is enjoying a "run around" before the show with a couple of icons in the background.

Refusing to crawl about and just looking at books

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth. Oh goodie, there they are.

We were both shattered when we got back - not a good sign since Alice spent only 30 minutes at daycare and I spent 0 minutes at work - but it was such fun.

Match the photos to the post

I interrupt this day with a slight hangover, but which I am forced to spend making my Xmas hampers because I have left it until the last minute, to bring you some photos, now that the computer and the camera are on speaking terms again.

Discarding all other toys to get to her books:



She's going on a bear hunt...



Enjoying swimming lessons:



Must go, off back to the homemade hampers for the motley crew of all Alice's minders (the pilates studio receptionist, Russian beauticians' mother, the Wadsworths and the Satchwells) containing Chrissie choccie biccies, Cranberry sauce, Christmas ketchup (great with prawns!) and Peanut (un)Brittle. Bet the rest of you all wish you had been more helpful now, eh?!

Paul Hardcastle meets 2Unlimited

A self confessed child of the 80s and early 90s, with much of the trash left lying around my CD collection to prove it, I was most pleased to hear Alice trundling around the house singing, "No, No, No, Nuh, Nuh, Nuh". She really could break into song with "No Limit" or "N-n-n-n-nineteen" any time now. If my Mum were here, she would be hearing "Nanna". Who is to say which is right?!

In that classic baby tradition of wanting to practice new skills all day and all night, she replies "No" to any question by day and last night was up for an hour between 2am and 3pm for no (geddit?!) other reason other than to say, "No". I eventually got her back to sleep (well, I didn't actually get her off - over the course of the hour, I threw all my tricks at her: changed her nappy in case it was dirty, gave her some milk in case she was hungry or thirsty, gave her a dribble of medicine in case her smokers cough had been bothering her, changed her under-sweaty-head muslin in case she was hot and added a blanket in case she was cold, but then realised that she wasn't actually crying, she was just along for the ride), tucked her up, closed our door and put an earplug in and hoped she would "No" herself to sleep. The next thing I heard was next door's baby crying at 6.30am while Alice snored on, so presumably she did just that.

The little sounds are very entertaining as is the propensity to copy words that you say. Apparently babies have to hear a word at least 300 times before they register it and another 300 to learn to say it. While finalising the Christmas shopping and specifying to the cashier which account I wanted the payment to come from, Alice took a break from her favourite word of the day to repeat a word that must have fulfilled the requisite repetitions in her hearing, "Savings". On a roll for five minutes, she then held her hand out for a rusk "Tusk", a feat of which I am slightly more proud. Neither have been repeated since nor allowed to interrupt the flow of "No".

Get thee to Toys R Us

The lack of photos is a trial and dedicated blog fans will just have to listen to my ramblings a little longer, without the hope of pictorial relief. Having retreated to the sofa in a curious state of Victorian ennui (curtains closed, fan buzzing and mopping my fevered brow) to recover from the exertion of buying, wrapping and posting all the Christmas presents for the UK contingent, I sought to gather some strength to shop for Stu and Alice and other Australians, this week. As previously noted, I have been laid low with a head cold and so I wasn't getting very far with it all. My love of online shopping had been curtailed with no fewer than three retailers losing parcels or promising gleefully that they would deliver goods in January and a feeling of bah-humbug permeated the air.

With the school holidays and the end of parking spaces at retail malls looming, I had to pull myself together and get to Toys R Us yesterday to see the latest Mothers Group cult toy, the Bruin Musical Activity Table, which was allegedly on special. I stopped at Finks, the most expensive cafe in the East, for caffeine and then we were away.

There's something of a novelty in being able to take the recipient of the Christmas gifts with you, see if they like something and know that they won't remember anything of the expedition nor nag you to buy things that they have particularly enjoyed. Alice and I spent a merry hour looking at lots of brightly coloured plastic and listening to Essex Dad in the next aisle, "Yeah, it's pretty n everyfink but what abaaat vair development like?". I hate to be coarse, but to name numbers, I spent $100 and bought Alice such a huge pile of toys that I will have to save some for her birthday. It's a crazy bargain place, even more so than all the other shops in Sydney at the moment. I'm not paying full price for anything ever again.

Building her immunity

So, we clocked up another cold last week. This means that I have a cold this week, but at least I know how it will progress from watching Alice's sniffles. This one doesn't seem too bad - if I follow her lead, I will have a blocked up nose for about ten days, a cough for just two and will be completely off my food for three or four, with a propensity to blow any food that is put into my mouth across the kitchen in a giant raspberry. I might lose a couple of kilos, which would be nice.

We went to a Mothers Group festive lunch yesterday, which was very pleasant. All the babies had a different cold and one had even purportedly just got over chicken pox. She had only had three spots and her mother was sure that they were mosquito bites, but the Clinic were insistent that babies present with very mild symptoms. Anyway, it was very reassuring to hear that all the other babies were being extremely annoying with their food during periods of blocked up noses and that most of the Mums were suffering greater sleep deprivation. Mothers Groups are great places to discover that you are not alone in the dark places. Unfortunately they also bring you crashing down to earth, when you think that your child is surely a musical/literary/sporting genius, since you can guarantee that Little Tarquin will be crawling just as well if not better than your own little Angel and that all babies like books and balls (especially if they have bells inside).

We were all very relaxed about the sharing of germs (apart from the chicken pox, but no one was very convinced about that one, including the mother of said patient) and are pretty confident that come January, they will all be catching all kinds of undesirable infections from daycare, if they haven't already started. Last week, Alice apparently transmitted an infection with a nasty fever to Stu without having any symptoms of her own to show for it. He was laid up for 3 days (and I was forced to apologise for accusing him of a hangover for the first day).

Fortunately if she should catch things, we have a procession of grandparents coming to stay who will hopefully like looking after sick girl. And perhaps even Alice too.

Bookworm

Having found the gift of motion, Alice has wasted no time in using her crawling skills to her advantage. She is now able to select the toys she would most like to play with/put in her mouth. and to get herself into favourite nooks and crannies where babies have no business.

I've spent the past week training her to come to heel and although she won't necessarily obey a vocal call to follow, she has now got lay of the land and is able to seek me out if she has, for example, been plonked in the lounge and I am washing up her mealtime debris in the kitchen.

We are having some camera/computer connection issues at the moment, so as soon as I can, I will post some photos of her pathways of destruction - all other toys disgarded so as to get to her pile of board books. She can often be found "reading" Bear Hunt and Peepo to herself - turning the pages and making the "Hooo Wooo" noise from the snowstorm in the story, as well as bouncing along to the rhythm of the remembered words.

In other news, her father went to Adelaide for lunch with work yesterday. Global Financial Crisis, anyone?