19 March 2012
14 March 2012
05 March 2012
Out of the dark side
OK so I have a confession to make: Roz turned three last week and I finally, FINALLY stopped breastfeeding her. I know, I know. Freaky or what. I'd tried before believe me but it was always easier to stop the whining by continuing to feed her. But we'd been building up to this birthday a long time. For about six months (I know, pathetic) I'd been going "Roz when you're three, you'll be a big, big girl. NO MORE susu." We'd linked pinkies. We made deals. We made the same deal for about every single night the month leading up to it.
So now she has turned three, my joy knows no bounds. She still comes running into our room in the middle of the night, clutching whatever treasure it is she's taken to bed with her - two muslin cloth "muddies"; three bears of varying size; sometimes a book, whatever - but instead of plonking herself between us, pulling my t-shirt up and making for the udder, she now just shoves her freezing little fingers up my shirt, checks all the equipment is there, and then turns over with a sigh.
The first two nights after her birthday, she would be muttering forlornly to herself "I'm a big, big girl now, not a little baby any more." Fair broke my heart. After that she whined for a bottle. Now she just turns over with a sigh. It really almost does break my heart. When I'm not going ha ha ha ha HAAAAH!
She's also not just realised she can chat now. She sings. We took her and her sister and a friend to watch Matilda the Musical for her birthday. Not quite three-year-old fodder but she sat pretty still for the first two hours and fifteen minutes.
The opening song goes "My mummy says I'm a miracle". I suppose it's some indication still of Roz's lack of speaking till relatively recently that when she asked me in the car the other day for "the miracle song" and then proceeded to sing the first five lines clearly enough that I could hear she knew the words, I was quite floored.
Izzy has been singing them, completely unironically and out loud in the supermarket sometimes, much to my embarrasment: "My mummy says I'm a miracle/ My daddy says I'm his special little guy/ I am a princess/ And I am a prince/ Mum says I'm an angel sent down from the sky. She emphasises all the girls' lines of course and sounds just off-key enough to have made it up herself.
Plus we bought the CD and have been playing it in the car a lot. But it still staggers me that Roz knows the words. She knows the words!
How much of this is down to her hearing aids I don't know at all. But since about a month ago now, she has had what we've been calling her princess ears (forgot to tell her new nursery room and so now they are plain old hearing aids again). I can't really tell whether they've made any difference although her old room leader said she thought she responded more quickly to calls.
As Roz ignores me at will it's difficult to see any effect. But she's been quite good about wearing them (we started with bribes of blocks of chocolate and have worked down to reasonably frequently remembered spoonfuls of manuka honey as bribes).
But speaking of the hearing aids ... they came in a very, very cool bag. So cool I was tempted to ask if a designer had done it for them. I'll post a picture one day. Suffice to say if I'd seen such a bag on sale and it was a bit bigger I would have contemplated buying it for myself. It must be just one of the efforts - others include the ability to have pictures on your aids including football club logos, tattoo designs; the ability to have them in sparkly silicone; put stickers on the plastic bits tucked behind the ears - to make them acceptable in the playground.
I was really quite touched by the amount of effort that seems to have gone into the realisation that kids can be teased about such things and to try and make them cool. Frankly I was waiting to tell Roz she was, bionic but princess ears seemed pretty acceptable to begin with. God bless the NHS. Next week we also start potty training.
All at once Roz is bounding out of toddlerhood.
OK so I have a confession to make: Roz turned three last week and I finally, FINALLY stopped breastfeeding her. I know, I know. Freaky or what. I'd tried before believe me but it was always easier to stop the whining by continuing to feed her. But we'd been building up to this birthday a long time. For about six months (I know, pathetic) I'd been going "Roz when you're three, you'll be a big, big girl. NO MORE susu." We'd linked pinkies. We made deals. We made the same deal for about every single night the month leading up to it.
So now she has turned three, my joy knows no bounds. She still comes running into our room in the middle of the night, clutching whatever treasure it is she's taken to bed with her - two muslin cloth "muddies"; three bears of varying size; sometimes a book, whatever - but instead of plonking herself between us, pulling my t-shirt up and making for the udder, she now just shoves her freezing little fingers up my shirt, checks all the equipment is there, and then turns over with a sigh.
The first two nights after her birthday, she would be muttering forlornly to herself "I'm a big, big girl now, not a little baby any more." Fair broke my heart. After that she whined for a bottle. Now she just turns over with a sigh. It really almost does break my heart. When I'm not going ha ha ha ha HAAAAH!
She's also not just realised she can chat now. She sings. We took her and her sister and a friend to watch Matilda the Musical for her birthday. Not quite three-year-old fodder but she sat pretty still for the first two hours and fifteen minutes.
The opening song goes "My mummy says I'm a miracle". I suppose it's some indication still of Roz's lack of speaking till relatively recently that when she asked me in the car the other day for "the miracle song" and then proceeded to sing the first five lines clearly enough that I could hear she knew the words, I was quite floored.
Izzy has been singing them, completely unironically and out loud in the supermarket sometimes, much to my embarrasment: "My mummy says I'm a miracle/ My daddy says I'm his special little guy/ I am a princess/ And I am a prince/ Mum says I'm an angel sent down from the sky. She emphasises all the girls' lines of course and sounds just off-key enough to have made it up herself.
Plus we bought the CD and have been playing it in the car a lot. But it still staggers me that Roz knows the words. She knows the words!
How much of this is down to her hearing aids I don't know at all. But since about a month ago now, she has had what we've been calling her princess ears (forgot to tell her new nursery room and so now they are plain old hearing aids again). I can't really tell whether they've made any difference although her old room leader said she thought she responded more quickly to calls.
As Roz ignores me at will it's difficult to see any effect. But she's been quite good about wearing them (we started with bribes of blocks of chocolate and have worked down to reasonably frequently remembered spoonfuls of manuka honey as bribes).
But speaking of the hearing aids ... they came in a very, very cool bag. So cool I was tempted to ask if a designer had done it for them. I'll post a picture one day. Suffice to say if I'd seen such a bag on sale and it was a bit bigger I would have contemplated buying it for myself. It must be just one of the efforts - others include the ability to have pictures on your aids including football club logos, tattoo designs; the ability to have them in sparkly silicone; put stickers on the plastic bits tucked behind the ears - to make them acceptable in the playground.
I was really quite touched by the amount of effort that seems to have gone into the realisation that kids can be teased about such things and to try and make them cool. Frankly I was waiting to tell Roz she was, bionic but princess ears seemed pretty acceptable to begin with. God bless the NHS. Next week we also start potty training.
All at once Roz is bounding out of toddlerhood.
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