Non-earth mother moments

Had to stop and reconsider my parenting style a little following a couple of incidents:

1. I taught Alice to say "text" yesterday. A child of the modern age, this is usually the sound that alerts her that to the fact Dadda is letting us know that he's wending his merry way home. I still felt a little uneasy, however, when she picked up the remote control and started pressing buttons, saying, "Hello? Text. Text. Text. Text."

2. Caught myself hatching plots on how to spend the immunisation bribe money that we'll get from the Australian government now that Alice has had her chicken pox vaccination and is immune to all childhood diseases. My grand schemes involved nails, haircuts and a posh lunch out. I guess I should probably buy something for the human pin cushion rather than for myself...she's finally paying her own way!!

Ho hum. Off to prepare some fiendishly complicated organic dish and to arrange it in the shape of a smiley face, to salve my conscience.

She's got rhythm

Today's photo and caption from playgroup...

"Alice thoroughly enjoyed the Aboriginal Tapping Stick dancing we had this morning, she watched the demonstrational movie we had playing at the same time, before clapping her sticks together."

Letting a bunch of toddlers play with sticks! That confirms to me that she is getting opportunities there that she would not be getting at home.

So, you wanna get rid of the mullet?

What busy bees we are. This afternoon, Alice and I headed off to the hairdressers to bid the mullet farewell. It's been great not having to worry about her hair for all this time - in fact I didn't even have to think about brushing or combing it until a couple of months ago. There are advantages to being born as bald as a coot.

We went through the usual Alice routine - make a big fuss when she arrives somewhere new and then gets used to the people, explores it thoroughly and rules the school by the time she leaves.

She was very happy to sit in the airplane ("nee-ow") , also had a go in the neighbouring fire engine ("nee-nah") and liked the Mickey Mouse DVDs which were showing (although there was some consternation that the mouse didn't go "eek-eek" as she has been carefully taught. She also dealt well with the fact that the monkeys at the zoo last weekend didn't reply to her "oo-oo" and that the snakes didn't utter an audible "ssss". I've noticed that she has stopped doing her elephant trunk impression though, so she may be a little disillusioned). Anyway.

The photo above is the after shot, after she had been bribed with a gingerbread man. Although it took three of their staff 30 minutes to complete the "bob", they really didn't need to take much off and only charged me half price, which was a bargain considering the labour costs involved (one to blow bubbles, one to cut the hair, one to try distract her and keep her head still and then they all took turns doing one of the other things). I'll gloss over the fact it already costs more to cut Alice's hair than it does her father's - he may as well get used to the price of being a girl now. Alice's "bob" looks much neater at the back now and hopefully she'll enjoy the haircut experience more next time. The salon was really lovely and we had a little Babycino afterwards. Very ladies who lunch.

The zoo

We went to the zoo again at the weekend. Once she had settled in and got over the size of the elephants, Alice had a ball.

Most of the photies have already gone on Facebook, but for the die-hards who still won't use it...

Alice spent most of the day obsessing about when we would get to the monkey enclosure, doing impressions whenever she didn't have a sandwich in her mouth (and sometimes during). The first picture is when she finally caught sight of the gorilla. Big excitement.

On sandwiches

Oh, she's cunning, that Mummy...


Alice started out eating sandwiches beautifully, but went off them in a big way. It was a bit of a pain, as they are obviously so portable and easy to prepare.


I tried all kinds of tricks - giving them to her when she was really hungry ("No, no"); giving them to her while other children were eating them ("No, no"); trying to give her a bite of mine ("No, no"); and tonnes of different fillings. It was particularly odd, since she loved toast and dry bread.


We love to feed the ducks. I say we, but actually I feed the ducks and Alice eats whatever I give her to throw in.


Now the ducks eat marmite sandwiches. And so does Alice.

And so would the monkeys and seals at the zoo if Alice had had her way.

Update from the Physio

The prancing pony and I set off for the hospital again today. After demonstrating her eventing skills this morning with Daddy, we were feeling upbeat and following a minor setback where the receptionist announced that the physio could decide whether she felt like treating Alice today - due to the fact that I snitched on myself and announced that she had a cold - we made it past the dragon into a Willy Wonka's kingdom type room where Alice promptly started bawling. She had spied a bed with a curtain around it in the far corner of the enormous room amongst all the toys, climbing equipment and slides and knew exactly where we were.

Once she had calmed down, she set off exploring, ably demonstrating her ability to speed across open spaces on her knees, as well as her new found skills of standing up and moving around a table. The physio didn't really manage to get near Alice, because the tears welled up again when she did, but she watched us play and smiled good naturedly as Alice ground sandwiches into the equipment and resisted all attempts to push trundle trucks. The hospital has special ones where you can make the handle higher and higher so that any other toddler would need to stand up to push them along. Alice just stretched up from her kneeling position. She found the slide and managed to get herself up the steps and then into a sitting position to come down. This was repeated many times and we'll be off to the park to do it again later - she loves it and apparently it's really good for her. Perfect.

The appointment continued and I tell you, bloglets, this child had better turn into the Albert Einstein that everyone reckons her to be. Much of the professional opinion given today was spent on remarking how bright she is. Basically she has worked out lots of other ways to get what she wants, including asking for things very clearly, so she doesn't need to walk for them. Obviously I'm as proud as punch (without whom there would be no show - see entry from Bolton last year), but am waiting for that planet brain to activate her balance as well as to power her immense powers of speech!

We have lots of exercises to do to get her up and about, but the physio reckons it may be as little as 1 month away. Hurrah. In the meantime, good news for Grannie Al...we have also been given the go ahead to buy her first walking shoes, as the ankle support will apparently give her stability. So off to the shops we will trot. We don't need to be asked twice.

Separation anxiety and the prancing pony

Alice and her pa walked around the sofa four times this weekend. Sure, she was being held up from underneath her arms and taking steps as though she were in a dressage event, but it was her first ever movement while on her feet. She was really pleased with herself and all the applause that she received. We were very pleased too - there were high fives all round.

Aside from that, she has been a little off since last Sunday or so and seems to be going through a little phase of wanting to be with her Mummy. It's been hard for me to leave any room, whether she is awake or asleep and there have been quite a few tantrums when I have needed to do so - you know, to use the bathroom, make her meals etc. Happily her father was around at the weekend to put her to bed for naps and at night, which meant that she could get over me leaving the room before she was put into her cot and she could have her bedtime stories without snivelling.

Leaving her at daycare has been quite hard too. She has been crying in the mornings, although apparently calming quite quickly. Bless them, this was the very sweet e-mail I received last week when I enquired as to whether she had settled OK, after we had scarpered mid-tantrum:

"Alice had settled herself and was up in the high chair having some toast by the time you would have gotten to the end of the ramp. You definitely did the right thing for Alice, as it allowed her to put into action her own self settling techniques. Her emotional outburst was incredibly brief and she was laughing and chatting with Alex immediately after. It must feel horrible for you to leave her in that way, however it really is not detrimental to her, and we just need to understand that it is age appropriate. These morning episodes should be over soon enough if we can continue to encourage Alice to settle herself, as she is doing at the moment and doing it in reasonable time. If you have any other concerns or feel you wish to go about this any other way please don't hesitate to call or have a chat with us on collection."

We'll see how this week goes - she has another cold now - so I imagine that won't help much... I guess, as they say: colds, separation anxiety and tantrums - all completely "age appropriate".

Medically speaking...

The round of medical appointments that seem to accompany Alice reaching a number of months divisible by 6 have started up. As usual, she hates them all and screams her head off at the very sight of the doctor's house. I'm told she's very bright to remember how much she hates it between appointments, but that bears scant consolation to the requirement to pin her down as she is examined. Or listening to her screams while I am examined - she's pretty much hysterical either way.

The ear infections didn't help matters; nor perhaps was the fact that we didn't see our usual quack, as he was on hols. The other guy is the one who found her clicky hips last year, and decided that once the anti-biotics had done their job and she was well, we should get the hips checked again since they are still making noises. I'm sure you're all bored senseless with the non-walking concerns, but bear with me...

We trundled off to a paediatrician yesterday to get her standard 18 month check done and a more detailed review of her overall development. We saw a lovely doctor who was running 1 hour late and who spent 90 minutes with us. Pity the next patient. Alice spent approx 60 of those minutes screaming blue murder. She happily showed off, stacked blocks, chatted away, and played peek-a-boo until she discovered that what looked like a toy shop was in fact a doctor's office and that she was going to play a starring role in the examination as well as the little performance she was putting on. From what I could hear over the racket, the facts are these - 97% of babies are walking by this age. However, at 9.5 months, Alice was a late crawler, so perhaps is just late at wanting to move about. However again, the knee walking is a bit unusual [although highly comical] - if she had stayed crawling, there would be less cause for concern. The nice lady ascertained that her hips and knees were still clicky and perhaps hyper mobile, which could be affecting her balance and that she has a tendency to turn her feet outwards, which could also be a bit of a prob.

So today, we went for a battery of tests - blood tests for coeliac disease and lack of vitamin D, as well as to check her thyroid was OK. More screaming and compliments on bright child obviously recognising medical implements before she was even approached. X-rays to look at the hips again. More screaming - not even modified by Mummy's hilarious Superman themed lead apron, as I held her down. The radiology department has the foresight to provide a children's waiting room with a slide in it, so there was some cheer amongst the misery.

Anyway, the paediatrician said that the most likely thing is that she will start walking soon. Coeliac disease unlikely as usually sufferers are thin with a big tummy. Alice just has a big tummy. Lack of vitamin D unlikely, given the fact you get that from sunlight and hello? we live in Sydney (22 degrees today in the deep mid winter) and the fact that both the doctor and I were exhausted by the end by her strength. Thyroid - possible, but given she's (you've guessed it) so bright, unlikely that her development has been affected by it. So it'll be walking or hips.

Head was measured - fine. Weight - we had to give up, because she wouldn't stay still, but seemed fine. Height - fine.

And finally, we were given and prescribed about ten different creams for dry skin/red and dry skin/mild excema and more severe excema behind the knee. I did tell the nice lady that her legs were only looking so messy because she had been to a playground twice on Sunday so there had been lots of knee walking along concrete, but applied all the lotions and potions last night and hey presto, all gone this morning.

Oh yes, and it's the chicken pox jab next week. I'm starting to think that the most likely thing to get Alice on her feet will be the desire to run out of one of these doctor's surgeries.

Knowing her limits

We have nice little chats, Alice and I, and she is keen on attempting or succeeding in copying words and singing along to songs. I told the doctor this week that she was a good little talker ("talker", repeated Alice) and when complimented on eating her dinner last night, she reminded me that she was doing it "nicely". Twinkle, twinkle remains a favourite ditty - she can sing along to every second word if you do it slowly and, more importantly, if the inclination takes her, but the obsession of the moment is Maisy Mouse and anything that Maisy does/sings/says/looks at, is commented upon and repeated ad nauseam, hundreds of times a day.

There's a few incidences of Maisy hiding in the DVDs which are such a hit after 5pm. Although Alice has seen these many times, she always feigns or demonstrates ignorance of where Maisy might be. "Ahd-no", she shrieks [I don't know].

We also have a Maisy book where the crucial question of Maisy's domicile is raised - Does Maisy live in the hen house/ the stable etc etc. Alice lifts the flaps to reveal the real owners of each abode. We read it A LOT and she's usually word perfect. This morning we read this book quite early on and Alice was still a bit dopey. This exchange followed:

Slightly bored but playing along mother (SBBPAM) reads: "Does Maisy live in the hen house?"
Alice: "Noooooooo".
SBBPAM: "Who does?"
Alice [shrugs shoulders, lifts hands, open palmed, into the air]: "Ahdno"
SBBPAM: "The hen's do"
Alice: "Milk?"
SBBPAM: "You've had your milk. [reads] Does Maisy live in the pigsty?"
Alice: "Nooooooo. Milk, please?"
SBBPAM ignores her and reads: "Who lives in the pigsty?"
Alice: "Mummy"*
Not so bored now mother: "Does Maisy live in the stable?"
Alice: "Nooooo."
NSBNM: "Who lives in the stable?"
Alice: "Ee-i-ee-i-o. Daddy?".

*I think she and her father have been ganging up on me and discussing my housekeeping skills or lack thereof...

We have also been preparing Alice for her impending baptism and reading bible stories to her. Nanna brought over some biblical board books which also have flaps to lift. We like Noah especially, because of all the animals and I enjoy it because I never quite know how Alice is going to fill in the gap at the end of the last line while she faffs around with the rainbow flap that pulls down to reveal the word, "thank you". Noah says, "It's time to say to God..." and Alice has provided suggestions of bye bye, go! [watching too much Big Brother?!], night night and ta.

We read the Good Samaritan too, which causes much joy because somehow the illustrator woven pictures of birds into the story. There aren't quite so many opportunities for animal noises, although lots of places where Alice can join in saying "No" along with the characters. She's always game to try out new sounds, so I decided to test her, "Can you say Samaritan, Alice?".

"Noooooo", she said.

The latest from the world of Alice

It's been a busy month. We've been sharing a nasty cold around the family for 4 weeks now, with Stu and Alice taking it one stage further and needing antibiotics to shift it. Stu has been working until all hours; and even I have been desperately working while Alice is asleep on my non-working days. We're looking forward to a holiday (of sorts) in a month or so. Take heed, grandparents, we are knackered and will be lying about on the sofa watching cricket and hoping for minimal visitors. Alice, in the meantime, is all yours!!

So - a few photos rather than any lengthy diatribe.

This last month, we have mainly been:


1. Smiling as soon as the antibiotics kicked in and the earache got better (just the 4 new teeth to contend with now)

2. Finally moving to the big bath - as soon as the water restrictions were lifted to allow the residents of Sydney to wash their cars, I decided that we would also wash our child

3. Climbing stairs - either to slides or to our appartment

4. Standing really nicely (at last)



5. Getting into drawing at the toddler table. (Busy growing a mullet too)



6. Chasing/ roaring at the seagulls down at Coogee beach




7. Generally being exceptionally cute

Just her little joke

The aroma of pie can often be detected in our house come Saturday lunchtime. Curiously, given the recession and all, a batch of bakeries have opened in our local area and one of these serves exceedingly good pies. Or so they are pronounced by our resident expert who consumes one most weeks. Last Saturday, he announced that he was off for "a pie". He said it in his best Bolton accent - dear reader, you'll have to practise that out loud to get the full impact of the followin....

Without blinking, Alice stretched her hands up into the air and looked to the ceiling. "Up high", she intoned.

"Yes, Mum(s)"

Alice is a child of many Aunties - being a good half-northerner and a nicely brought up young lady, she calls any woman that I have any contact with by that appellation. But she has only one Grannie and one Nanna (and one Super-Gran). The former are full of genuinely helpful and appreciated suggestions as to how to encourage Alice to walk.

Lest either should think that a) I just sit around on Facebook or blogging or b) we haven't tried everything, I gathered some evidence.

Exhibit A: Grannie says, "Don't you try to walk her, Stuart?"



Excuse the footage - camera was propped up to discourage passing swans from knocking it over and the angle is not great, to say the least.

Exhibit B: Nanna says, "You should buy her a walker"



She's not a very good driver. By that I mean Alice, not Nanna.

The older generation are not alone in having ideas. Our gymbaroo teacher shook her head ruefully and said, "I bet she had a Jumperoo, didn't she?" and then tried to get her to climb a ladder to strengthen her legs. (Alice: "No, no....Waaaaah") . The Physio at 14 months said that she was very smart and strengthening each muscle group, one by one - according to Google, it takes 200 muscles to walk and I think Alice is quite literally developing each one individually - and that she would get there in her own time. The lady at the shoe shop suggested that her feet were so dainty that it might be their diminutive size which is holding her back. A couple of mothers at the playground (following a loud exchange of, "Oh look, that's the baby I was telling you about who walks on her knees") suggested gymbaroo and so it continues... I just cry Uncle...(or should that be Auntie).