01 May 2012
Just been looking at the number of posts for the year and it's been pretty dismal. I totally blame Facebook.
Some things that have stuck in my mind recently though:
1. Isabel running up to me with Roz's smiling portrait, and exclaiming: 'Mummy, Roz is so cute in this picture, I thought it was me!'
And this morning on the way out to the car - and let me just say that this hour of the morning is probably the most stressful in the entire day - Izzy was singing something to me. And I muttered something vaguely about it being hmm yes a nice song.
'Nice? Mummy, it isn't just nice. It's amazing!' (Complete, I promise, with italics.)
2. Roz has started ordering me around. I went back in the blog to see if Izzy had done the same, because it rang bells. And of course she did. And of course she was even more empress-like than Roz is.
Although I've stopped breastfeeding Roz (hallelujah!) she still, when sleeping, or tired, quite likes to have a feel of the equipment. Much as I hate it and have been trying to break her of the habit. I mean there's really nothing like a pair of cold little hands creeping up your shirt and feeling their way about in the middle of the night.
I'll skip the obvious joke.
Anyway so one day she tells me: 'Mummy, I'm not going to touch your boobies, OK? I'm just going to smell them. OK, mummy?' Then she proceeds to lay a cheek on each in turn, sniffing contentedly each time. And then she turns up to me again, looking immensely pleased with herself. 'See mummy? I didn't touch your boobies.'
It's not just me, is it?
Some things that have stuck in my mind recently though:
1. Isabel running up to me with Roz's smiling portrait, and exclaiming: 'Mummy, Roz is so cute in this picture, I thought it was me!'
And this morning on the way out to the car - and let me just say that this hour of the morning is probably the most stressful in the entire day - Izzy was singing something to me. And I muttered something vaguely about it being hmm yes a nice song.
'Nice? Mummy, it isn't just nice. It's amazing!' (Complete, I promise, with italics.)
2. Roz has started ordering me around. I went back in the blog to see if Izzy had done the same, because it rang bells. And of course she did. And of course she was even more empress-like than Roz is.
Although I've stopped breastfeeding Roz (hallelujah!) she still, when sleeping, or tired, quite likes to have a feel of the equipment. Much as I hate it and have been trying to break her of the habit. I mean there's really nothing like a pair of cold little hands creeping up your shirt and feeling their way about in the middle of the night.
I'll skip the obvious joke.
Anyway so one day she tells me: 'Mummy, I'm not going to touch your boobies, OK? I'm just going to smell them. OK, mummy?' Then she proceeds to lay a cheek on each in turn, sniffing contentedly each time. And then she turns up to me again, looking immensely pleased with herself. 'See mummy? I didn't touch your boobies.'
It's not just me, is it?
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.
22 February 2012
19 February 2012
24 January 2012
15 January 2012
14 December 2011
10 December 2011
24 November 2011
More conversations with Izzy
On the way to school
Roz is puffing clouds of condensation and laughing.
"Wow Roz you're puffing out smoke like a dragon," I say.
"Or a smoker," says Izz.
No realm of the fanciful for her.
Mental maths in the bathroom, first thing in the morning
I: Mummy, 8-1-5-0-0-8-1 - what's the biggest number?
Me: 8
I: Wrong! 0! When I said biggest I meant the smallest. Now 0-0-5 - which is the smallest?
Me: 5
I: No! I said smallest!
Me: ... Earlier you said you meant smallest when you said biggest!
I: Now I mean smallest - you are wrong.
Me: This isn't fair you keep changing the rules.
I: That's because it's my game.
Me: I'm not playing anymore
I: O yes you are.
At teatime
I: Mummy how many legs does a hamster have? Cos mine has wheels ...
Maybe I should let her get a pet after all
Playing the animal guessing game while brushing teeth for bed
I: Does it have six legs?
Me: No
I: Does it have one leg?
Me: What animal do you know that has one leg?!
I: A one-legged tortoise?
Still playing...
Me: Does it live in a farm?
I: Yes
... several farm animals later...
I: It's a camel!
Me: A camel doesn't live on a farm!
I: In a big barn?
Bedtime
Isabel is reading Roz a story. Roz points to the picture and repeatedly says, happily, 'Cake!'
Thas ma gurl...
On the way to school
Roz is puffing clouds of condensation and laughing.
"Wow Roz you're puffing out smoke like a dragon," I say.
"Or a smoker," says Izz.
No realm of the fanciful for her.
Mental maths in the bathroom, first thing in the morning
I: Mummy, 8-1-5-0-0-8-1 - what's the biggest number?
Me: 8
I: Wrong! 0! When I said biggest I meant the smallest. Now 0-0-5 - which is the smallest?
Me: 5
I: No! I said smallest!
Me: ... Earlier you said you meant smallest when you said biggest!
I: Now I mean smallest - you are wrong.
Me: This isn't fair you keep changing the rules.
I: That's because it's my game.
Me: I'm not playing anymore
I: O yes you are.
At teatime
I: Mummy how many legs does a hamster have? Cos mine has wheels ...
Maybe I should let her get a pet after all
Playing the animal guessing game while brushing teeth for bed
I: Does it have six legs?
Me: No
I: Does it have one leg?
Me: What animal do you know that has one leg?!
I: A one-legged tortoise?
Still playing...
Me: Does it live in a farm?
I: Yes
... several farm animals later...
I: It's a camel!
Me: A camel doesn't live on a farm!
I: In a big barn?
Bedtime
Isabel is reading Roz a story. Roz points to the picture and repeatedly says, happily, 'Cake!'
Thas ma gurl...
11 November 2011
Conversations with Izz
I: Mummy what do you think happens to teeth when they fall out?
Me: I don't know ... but I read a story once about some children who visited the tooth fairy's castle and they saw lots of elves carving the teeth into little animals.
I: But is it true?
M: I don't know.
I: No it's not. I read an information book about it.
M: Oh? So what happens to teeth?
I: The tooth fairy paints it gold. Then she buriea it an puts a cross over it. To remember it.
I: Mummy what do you think happens to teeth when they fall out?
Me: I don't know ... but I read a story once about some children who visited the tooth fairy's castle and they saw lots of elves carving the teeth into little animals.
I: But is it true?
M: I don't know.
I: No it's not. I read an information book about it.
M: Oh? So what happens to teeth?
I: The tooth fairy paints it gold. Then she buriea it an puts a cross over it. To remember it.
02 November 2011
19 October 2011
Isabel's favourite zumba move
That'd be the bit where they go 'boom boom boom boom!' Must say she nails it sometimes and is very cute doing it - must find out how I can get hold of the music.
Y1 T1 school report
So apparently she's reading well - on an orange target card and at the level they expect as the national average when you finish year 2.
In terms of writing she needs to concentrate on punctuation and capital letters. And in math we need to use the number line and 100-square grid with her (was useful to find out the methods in vogue).
Then: Isabel is a little star apparently - mature, sensible and does exactly whatever you ask her to do. And always listens to what the teachers are asking her to do.
Which was the point at which I realised we must have been talking about different children.
But no even the head teacher said she was a delight as we passed on the way out. But Izzy has pointed out there are seven Isabellas and seven Isabel/les at school... no wonder they get confused.
Izzy packing some snacks for a long car ride this weekend: "... drink, banana, bla bla bla, and some treats in case we are very, very good."
You have to give her that she plans ahead.
Roz's speech meantime continues to amuse and delight. While they sprinkled sugar hearts on the chocolate cupcakes I baked Izzy to mark the good school report, I told Roz that would be enough now of the decorations and she parroted back, perfectly, 'enough decorations now'. What amazes me is that there were four distinct syllables in her pronounciation.
Just like she's gone from
calling her key worker Kimberley 'Keely' to 'Kilaly' to, now 'Kimely'. Makes me worry less about the goo that continues to issue from her left ear. I took her to the doctor but they just said it wasn't inflamed or anything
and that was that and I was left wondering again if I'm expected to expect that as normal.
I do realise that slowly we are now able to have meaningful conversations and that I can actually recognise at least part of some of the songs she sings (tonight was Peter Rabbit has a butterfly on his nose).
In a good mood, Roz has a very mischievous and engaging chortle. One night, as I sat talking to Ling, she came up to the table, opened a box of sweets then grabbed a handful and we only realised what had happened when I recognised that low, gleeful gurgle that accompanied her just-too-hasty exit.
Izzy has started piano lessons as well amd to my great relief seems
to really like them. It helps that her teacher seems really bright and engaging and immensely positive - also that we can actually tell her where she's going right or wrong.
Three weeks after she started the school asked if she'd like piano, violin or viola lessons at school... it's probably too much to push her into the violin or viola bow I guess but it's a shame she's missed out on playing in a group I think. O well plenty of time if she's interested later I guess.
In the meantime she's having a whale of a time in the zumba school club.
09 October 2011
02 October 2011
24 September 2011
01 September 2011
31 August 2011
25 August 2011
'My muddy!'
Swan family
13 August 2011
08 August 2011
02 August 2011
01 August 2011
Holiday!
Summer harvest
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