Izzy tries to get Charley to stop crying

Her singing is surprisingly effective

Back home now

And having a good rest after bawling her eyes out having done an enormous poo and wee.

Little charley dex

11 days overdue

Haiiyaa. 

It's not as if I don't have things to amuse myself with: have just taken out another four books from the library; I have several knitting projects in mind - even the yarn for most of them; I have seeds germinating in the allotment hothouse and plans for the bamboo frame for the peas; I've even partially thought out which plants go where in the plot (this will be the year we harvest peas, dammit!); and there are Korean food recipes I'd like to look up... 

But at the end of the day it all does nothing to disguise the fact that I am still just waiting. Maybe it's because I've run out of jokes. Or that I need to print a t-shirt that says 'Yes. Still pregnant.' 

So. Today I am going to give up telling Charley to hurry up and just accept that on Friday the midwife is going to do a sweep (mmm, what a lovely event to look forward to). And if that doesn't work she'd better blinking have booked an induction date by the end of our appointment. 

Izzy's ship comes in

Daddy kindly fries up a huge batch of the keropok her grandparents brought.

8 days overdue

Still nothing; nada. I promise I will definitely let the world know when Charley arrives. 

Trauma

Phew we had a bit of a scare today. Izzy went to Krazy Kidz this morning with one of her old nursery buddies, Sam. Alex was ever so good and let them chase him all around the place - this is getting to be his weekly exercise - which is just as well seeing as his breakfast was a slab of millionaire's shortbread (shortbread covered with caramel and chocolate) and a latte. He was just taking a break and listening to me and Sam's mom gossip when suddenly I saw him get up and half-run, half-walk towards the kids.

At the far end of the building I could see Izzy in one of the little cars, being pushed by Sam, and she had her head thrown up in a howl. O dear, I thought, must be another little accident. Simona also then however started heading towards them. I saw Alex extracting the howling Izz from the car and start running back towards me, and I thought mmm wonder what she's scraped.

Then as they got nearer I saw, to my initial horror, a huge stream of blood from Izzy's nose, and that her teeth and lips were caked in blood that was beginning to spot her t-shirt, hands and jeans. Quickly got a batch of napkins from the food counter, and began stemming the blood from her nose, while Simona, who was as white as Alex, came back with another batch of tissue and a bowl of ice. 

Sam had been pushing Izzy round in the car - something they've both loved doing since Izzy was about one-plus at nursery - and had bopped into the wall, with Izzy then smacking her face against the side of the car or the wall (don't know which), and resulting in the nosebleed.

Five minutes later the bloodflow had stopped, she'd taken a few sips of water and she stopped looking like the victim of a real car crash. Eight minutes later she was putting the bits of ice into the napkins herself and genteely dabbing her nose with them. Ten minutes later she quite happily accepted a chocolate and fruit bar from Simona. 

We watched her rather anxiously for the next one or two hours - I called NHS Direct (0845 464748) to ascertain there weren't any other symptoms of concussion or anything I should be watching for - but after packing away a huge lunch, asking for and getting several rides on a carousel and an ice-cream cone, and insisting Sam come along for a little play soon, I think I worked out she was pretty much normal. 

I think poor Alex and Simona are still recovering from the trauma though! 

Midnight conversation

It may not have been midnight, probably more like three in the morning - all I know is all was dark and we'd all been asleep for a while. It was only about halfway through the conversation that I realised she was talking in her sleep.

'Mumeeee...'

'Whaaat?'

'But it's myyy show.'

'What?'

'It's myyy show now, mummy.'

'So watch your show, for goodness sakes.'

'I don't want to watch a scary show.'

'So don't watch a scary show!'

'I want myyyy show.'

'Arrrgh hmm ok - here watch Tigger and Pooh. Here's Tigger and Pooh, OK? Happy?'

Satisfied grunt.

I'd forgotten this conversation even took place until Alex reminded me the next night. I think maybe we should really cut down on her TV watching. 

5 days late and counting

Darn it. I know only 4 or 5 per cent of babies are on time but Isabel raised expectations unnecessarily. I'm not complaining, because having two bodyguards (that would be mom and dad) who also cook and do impromptu babysitting is quite useful, but there is this bizarre feeling of disappointing all the people waiting, waiting for Charley Dex to come out.

So far? Just so you know: nothing. No signs, no twinges, no Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing. I don't even know if the baby's head is engaged (GP appointment tomorrow). But so it was the last time as well and my friend Jude, who gave birth last week, said her baby wasn't engaged either and apparently this is usually the way it is with number twos.  So ah well.

In the meantime Izzy is all primed for the arrival: she knows if daddy has to take me to the hospital, kongkong and popo will look after her until daddy gets back to take her to see mummy and baby Charley (a present from Izzy's beloved Alessia, Za-Za's Baby Brother, worked a treat to reassure her on what to expect), so at least that's settled.

Mom has taken up knitting with great enthusiasm, and is busy going through my wool stash. She seems adamant on learning how to knit more socks, and I've finished this cute mouse for Jude's wee Juniper. So now to get back to the baby blanket I was working on. I just wish I hadn't gone slightly off the sugar pink that I'm using for that - the bright colours of some cotton/silk mix I bought are so much more alluring.

So until you hear otherwise: nothing.

How you know your dad loves you

'Elevator going up...'

Spoke to one of Izzy's nursery girls today, who was telling me about the observations her mom and colleague have made of Izz for a study she's doing for her Open University degree. Apparently Izzy is a rich source of amusing material for such things. 

Becky said she's quite a nice kid to look after in that she plays by herself most of the time and only comes to you when she needs something. The nursery needs to make three observations of each child a day apparently (yikes, poor them!) and she said they can usually count on Izz for a lot of imaginative play.

Her mom Liz did tell me a while back about some machine she said she'd made, a 'hurter'. And what does it do, Liz asked, expecting it to zap baddies or something. 

'When someone is hurt, you put the machine on them and it tells you where it hurts and then it makes them better,' the young miss said. 

Izzy is quite fond of the show Handy Manny and has lately started playing a lot more with the tool kit we bought her nearly a year ago. Sadly its many nails, nuts and bolts are all scattered around her toy boxes but she will quite happily use the tools still available to 'fix' something if you ask her to. 

So I'm starting to realise that imaginative play is something she really quite likes. This weekend, on declining her offer to jump rope with her (I must get round to making her a rubberband skipping rope and teaching her the old zero-dot and high jump games), I made her soft toys jump over instead and this then happily spun into a game of them doing different jumps at different heights for half an hour. 

Yesterday I saw her wrapping herself up in the curtains by the French windows and muttering to herself. So I tiptoed up to eavesdrop. She was going, with perfect, measured tones:

'Doors closing. 

Elevator going up. 

Doors opening. 

Elevator going down.'

Sulks

She's taken to these in the same way Hui Li used to ages ago. When ticked off with me, she crosses her arms, humphs and closes eyes. I was so tickled when this happened on the weekend I asked Alex to get the camera. And then we teased her.

'Has Izzy gone to sleep? Hey, what's going on? How come your eyes are shut? Are you sleeping?'

She only cracked open one eye long enough to register our amusement and angrily shook her head, before stalking off to her play area, where she stayed muttering to herself for a good 20 minutes or so. 

I quite like these sulks. 

Hat and booties for Charley

As modelled on the bear Izzy has bought for the baby. May rethink those pink and yellow ties on the booties.

'Mummy you're a fatty waddle!'

This was followed by peal after peal of laughter. Izzy had just taken off all her clothes, and was about to get into her bath, when she looked up at me in delight proclaiming 'I'm a nudie rudie!' Then she prodded my belly and said the above.

Should I:

a) Feed her cili padi?

b) Make her next bath with just cold water?

c) Tell her Charley Dex is my favourite child?

We had another snow day home yesterday because I woke up with yet another head cold and just could not be asked to get out and scrape snow off the car (it was very slushy yesterday) to send her to nursery. This morning however I'd decided it's definitely more tiring having her at home so I woke late and sent her off. Plus it's a Felix and Alessia day, so I think she has more fun when they're around.

I've noticed she's not as enthusiastic about nursery anymore - and I think it might be because a lot of her older friends have left; Alessia's about to start school in a few months; and Felix only comes on Mondays and Fridays now. 

The next two eldest children are about four to six months younger than her and I think Izzy isn't very patient with younger children - though she does mention Tara and Henry a bit more now - she much prefers running with the bigger kids. 

Ah well. We'll probably take her out of nursery for at least one day a week once Charley's settled into a routine. Maybe two days if things go well.

Pregnancy brain

I didn't think I experienced it much last time but it's definitely a factor in this pregnancy. I'm seriously absent-minded at the moment, which is driving me nuts. Last night I put Izzy to sleep convinced I'd changed her into her jammies, including Pooh pants. But then Alex came home, kissed her goodnight and found she'd just wee-d all over the sofa. Again. For the third time this week. Arrrgh, I'd only just wrestled the sofa cover on again after the last accident. 

Yes, if you visit us, I'd avoid sitting on the left side of the sofa.

Sambal nasi lemak

I made it! Whee!

My little geek

Mmm it's annoying - there are several incidents about Izzy that I meant to blog about over the past weeks and already they're slipping through this sieve of a pregnant memory. What I can remember includes:

She's started playing games on the computer. She really, really likes them. Part of me is slightly appalled because she can play for half an hour at a time, easily, and her favourite site is the Disney Playhouse one, but part of me is also rather awed at what she can do - and actually at how well-designed some of these websites are. OK how well-designed the Disney one is.

For instance her favourite Mickey Mouse game is called the Mousekespotter - and you are shown three 'clues' for a logic game eg stripes, green and yellow - and you have to choose from three presents; one of which is spotty in green and yellow; another stripey in green and yellow; the last stripey in green and blue. You get the picture. She likes that. 

Her favourite Tigger and Pooh game is one in which she should really navigate as well as work out clues but I think she does rather well just working out the clues: riddles are read out and shown as text on screen, and then she has to click on the answer in the pictures of things on the game. 

I can't remember them all exactly - some are easy enough, along the lines of 'it's on a balloon, the number that comes after three'; others are more tricky, eg something something about blossoms in a basket, the colour of a frog, a lime and a leaf.

With this game the first few times she made me sit with her and repeat the clues slowly - sometimes she just can't understand what's being said because it's said with an American accent - and of course I emphasise the bits that I think she'll know (eg colour of a frog, yes, colour of a lime, no). 

What impressed me slightly was that I think there are 10 or so variations of this game; I may be wrong but I don't think each game repeats any of the five clues used in each and, after the first few games of me explaining, she began to catch on fast enough to work out the clues herself most of the time. 

Sadly the CBeebies website bears no comparison at all to the juggernaut that is the Disney site in terms of design and usability for tots (with the Disney site I think you could almost leave a non-reading three-year-old to it and, assuming they know how to use a mouse, they'd probably work it out), though there are one or two worthy things on it.

One of the best is the drawing game under this character Squigglet or Squiggler or whatever the furry orange thing is called. It's basically an online drawing tool - but quite cool in that it also records your actions so when you've finished your picture you can playback your actions and see the artwork re-created. It does take an age to load though. 

Izzy was playing with it the night of Obama's inauguration and I was trying to explain why it might be that it was taking an unusually long time (even for the CBeebies site) to load: 

'Izzy, you see the man on TV? That's Barack Obama...'

'Mummy -'

'Yes?'

Points to screen. 'That's Squigglet.'

My affectionate little geek

I don't know what it is that's triggered it either - maybe the realisation it gets her pretty much anything she wants - but she's become really huggy-kissy these last few weeks. When we wake up in the morning - correction, when she wakes up, she'll crawl into bed next to me and often as not, will give me a bit hug and several kisses before going 'Mummy, are you awake now? Can we go downstairs?'

Sometimes I think it's a ploy, for example, to get out of finishing her meal. She'll get up from it, come and put her arms around my neck and nuzzle my cheek, or insist on holding my face and solemnly kiss each cheek whichever sacred number of times she feels like, or kiss my nose. And after that it's 'Ive had enough now...'

Still it doesn't all feel like manipulation so I think whatever it is, she can keep it up! It can be a wee bit tiring sometimes having to lean over for the umpteenth kiss goodnight - especially when you have a belly the size of a whale like mine getting in the way, but hey I'll take it anytime!

Limits

We're also getting a little bit better in regards to the TV, in that Alex and I are trying to set clear time limits now on her TV-watching. 'No more till after tea; no go and do something other than TV!' Usually after a little flouncing she'll agree and will go play with her kitchen set or dolls or something. Sometimes an offer to play what she calls snap - really the memory game involving finding pairs in cards - or to read her one of her books suffices. Sometimes I am evil and allow her the easy option of playing a computer game instead (hey they involve thinking!)

If anyone has any other suggestions though, let me know!

Nonsense

She still quite enjoys chattering away and quite frequently now makes me do nonsense rhymes with her. She'll just make up a line and then think of another set of nonsense words and insist I say them after her line, so they rhyme. 

Eg tonight she kept calling from the sofa, 'Mummy, I want youuu... On a slice of coo!' And when I went over she kept insisting I say something like 'mistake' - couldn't work out what it was, and couldn't work out why she kept insisting I say it until I heard her mumble the first line under her breath - which was also all nonsense so I can't even remember it, all I know is that its last word rhymed with 'mistake'.

Go figure.

'It's not fair!'

I was wondering how long it would take for this phrase to surface! And here it is. The other day I was putting her dinner on her little table as she watched TV (yes, I know it's terrible but it's the only way I get to have dinner in peace too) and asked her to come over and eat it. She leaned off the sofa and put her feet onto the stool she sits on. After three warnings not to do that in case she tipped over the table, she tipped over her stool and of course sent her dinner onto the floor.

'Right, no more sitting here then. Go and eat at the dining table, right now.'

She looked guilty for all of five seconds then became defiant.

'But I won't do it again.'

'I don't care. I just warned you only about three times to sit still, sit on the stool properly and you didn't listen so now no more sitting at the little table, go sit at the big table. NOW.'

She huffed, folded her arms and stamped her foot.

'It's not fair.'

'Tough.'

'But I won't do it again!'

'Too late.'

'It's not fair!'

And she came over and glared at me, arms still across her chest. 

'Izzy, I'd just told you three times to sit properly in case you tipped the table over. And what did you do? If you don't know how to sit still and eat properly then you aren't going to get to eat at your little table.'

'But it's NOT FAIR!' On the verge of tears she accidentally purposely flung one arm out and hit my arm. And at least had the grace to look very guilty instantly when I gave her the look.

'You do NOT hit mummy. That's a very naughty thing to do. Go and sit down on the carpet NOW.'

Howls - not very sincere ones - and abasement on the carpet.

I ignored her and had my dinner. Then after about five minutes:

'I want my mummy... mummy... I want you.'

'When you're ready to say sorry then talk to me.'

'I am.'

'Alright come over.'

And so she came over and looked up: 'I'm sorry for hitting you mummy.'

Hmm is it good that she apologises so easily? I don't know.

Anyway hugs and kisses later she meekly sits up at the table with me and eats her dinner,  no more complaints.

I suppose if there's anything to be grateful for it's that the tantrum was really quite easily managed. 

The other time she used it was when we turned out the lights on Sunday night. Izzy had insisted on sleeping in our bed between us and when I switched off our bedside light she complained and wanted to turn it on again.

'Izzy if you want the light on go and sleep in your own bedroom.'

'But I can't see.'

'That's the idea.'

'But I want the light on.'

'Well this is our room and our bed and mummy and daddy want the light off. So if you want it on go and put it on in your own bedroom.'

'Humph.' Arms crossed again. 'It's not fair. Humph.'

And she fell asleep like that. I dozed off and woke up to her gentle snoring, arms still crossed.

Maternity leave wk II

As usual it took about two weeks to settle into some sort of pattern of relaxation. Didn't help that the first week of my leave was taken up with two days of Izzy being home - one day genuinely rather ill, the other a drama performance to inveigle more TV hours - and then a rush at the end of the week when we suddenly realised we were going away to a cottage with some friends!

The weekend away was really nice. We stayed in the Cotswolds so it was a short drive for us. Despite Mr Ong's initial misgivings and our packed overnight bag Charley Dex stayed very well put in me, no signs of wanting to come out yet. It was quite a luxury having meals prepared for us and being able to spend so much time with Izzy, so thanks very much the Lewis & Fontes partnership for making it happen! 

Although I'd earlier entertained some notion of going on Sue's much-heralded country walks, just the short walk from our cottage to the centre of town made it quite clear it would be impossible given Izzy's reluctance to walk and the fact that I now waddle at about half the pace of your average pensioner. We visited a bird park instead, which suited Izzy very well, though I think the highlight of her visit was sharing a packet of crisps with me in the cafe. Never mind, I was quite thrilled to see penguins and flamingos at such close quarters. 

We arrived back home on Sunday and suddenly realised it was Chinese New Year the next day. But because the whole last week had been taken up with sick Izzy (who then gave Alex and I her cough), and preparing to go away for the weekend, er our new year celebrations consisted of: noodles on the first night, getting Izzy to record a new year greeting for you folks back home, and then me frantically trying to find us all some new year clothes the following week.

Shopping was very successful for Izz, who now has two snazzy new dresses and a pink silk skirt; slightly less so for Alex (three new pairs of socks and a fine merino wool jumper) and I (one luxe towelling bath robe). But I couldn't bring myself to buy anything really given the size I am right now anyway. So the luxe robe will do for now - as will another skirt I spotted in a White Stuff sale a few weeks ago. It's a size 10 so it will be a while before I can fit into it but will also serve as incentive to get back down to size 10, I figure!

Spa day

Another pregnant colleague and I visited Nirvana Spa last Tuesday, seeing as we are possibly the only two women in our office who do not appear to have ever been there and mmm was it good. What was really surprising was how much more tired it made me! 

We had a good morning lounging round a springwater pool; even did some swimming in it (I think if nothing else we amused many other guests with our enormous bellies); then she had a facial and I had a head massage (not long enough); we had a product demonstration in which we slathered on a multitude of products; and then a session in a flotation pool.

Now I'd heard a lot about this pool so was quite hyped up about it and have to say wish overall that it had been a bit cooler than it was because the first 5 mins or so I'm sure I spent thinking mmm not sure if I'm going to bake in here... and Jude thought the same. Despite this though I found myself waking up two or three times during our 45-min session which meant I'd managed to drop off to sleep. 

Was really quite hard dragging ourselves out of the pool, but we just about managed to get cups of coffee and tea and cake and sit by the pool chatting some more. If the pool's effects were not so apparently immediately I think they were that evening and the day after - I felt absolutely shattered and, after sending Izzy to nursery, for the first time finally took an afternoon nap longer than about half an hour and felt really good when I woke up. 

Perhaps it was also because it was the first time in weeks I hadn't coughed myself awake, or woken to pat Izzy's back because she was coughing, or kicked Alex because he'd snored me awake again. Anyway after that I finally started feeling a bit more relaxed. 

The next days that week I spent mainly going shopping - looking at cot options, the new year clothes and stocking up on food, and er splurging on discounted yarn (mm baby alpaca; cotton silk mix) for my knitting. Anyway now I feel I've got everything I need and will be quite happy to spend the next two weeks indoors knitting booties, doing the laundry, having friends over for tea and making authentic sambal. 

Blinking Brahmins, which used to be our reliable source of sambal for nasi lemak, has made its sambal all tomato-ey and not pedas anymore. It's more like a spicy ketchup, much to my disgust, so I've gone and bought belacan and asam and dried chillies... now I just need the afternoon free to pound everything up.

I've also already tried knitting one bootie the other day and it only took a couple of hours so hurrah! Pregnant friends, you know what you'll be getting. Now there's only this and the erm remaining 15 or so things to do on my list of things to do ...

Snow!

Decided to keep Izzy at home today, despite being quite curious as to the state of Caversham's roads as well. I'm sure I could've gotten her to nursery OK but it seemed like a nice opportunity to take her out and play in the snow. Click here to see the album on Facebook!

Snow snow snow

Wondering whether to bother sending Izzy to nursery! Especially since it would involve digging out my hiking boots and scraping all this snow off the car.