Sunday, November 16, 2014

46/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, for 2014."
 
 
Big: From below. And ready to leap.
 
Tiny: Planking baby planks. Everywhere. On everything. Park benches are no exception.
 
**

Thursday, November 13, 2014

{Just One Thing} Week Forty Five


Three Hundred and Twelve - 04.11.14

{Big}

Unique to babes of mine is the intense displeasure of car travel. The gentle hum of the engine incites a not so gentle whinge, turn whine, turn woe is me. Yet travel we must, and we do. The reality is most often anything but pleasant. Just like our trip today with the crying baby, who well, cried. And cried hard.

Daddy and I did our best to console her the only way we could, given our position strapped to the seat. We sang. And being the biggest, bestest, most loving big sister that you are, you did too. I could not have been prouder of you, sweet girl. And looking back in the rear vision mirror, I noticed your arm outstretched, her hand in yours. It did not quell her completely, it comforted her, just a little.

Sweet soothing sister, for taking it upon yourself to go that extra mile for love… and peace… I am grateful.

Three Hundred and Thirteen - 05.11.14

{Tiny}

Despite your growing vocabulary, you go about your day without too much of a scene. The words and the sounds and the babble are scattered, and always with purpose, be it in hope of assistance reaching the unreachable, or reading to accompanying turned pages of books. But mostly, you’re too busy crawling and climbing and scouring the space for things that catch your eye.

Outsiders would be forgiven for thinking that you don’t have much to say, or rather, that the beginnings of language are a yet to interest you. Or probably more likely, maybe they think that your sister has taken hold of all available oxygen in the room? But as possible as the latter is, it is not so. It’s a talent you have, but share only so often, and with a select few. Thankfully, Daddy and I are your people, and you often flaunt your capabilities with us in private. Your voice squeaky. Your words sweet. The moments so very special.

Three Hundred and Fourteen - 06.11.14

{Big}

There are many words I would use to describe you. Confident. Sassy. Hilarious. Intense. But despite your bursting personality, I would have never thought of you as daring. And the past has most certainly not indicated that you’re a risk taker. That’s the thing about toddlers, I suppose. The unpredictability. Because today, you climbed the ladder at the park, walked to the edge of the unguarded platform, and jumped. Without hesitation. You just… jumped.

You landed on your feet but the force of the drop meant that your face planted itself firmly in the bark. Upon standing, you looked to me and my jaw scraping the pavement, and smiled. “Did you SEE dat, Mumma! Dat was AWESOME!”

My goodness. I have daughters. Ones that like pink and girlie and sure, there’s a little bit of cars and dinosaurs and dirt, but not jumping from two metre platforms with wild abandon. Apparently not.

Three Hundred and Fifteen - 07.11.14

{Tiny}

A rounded nappy covered bottom sits, with a spine so straight it makes my core ache just to witness. There's a dull babbling sound coming from your direction, muffled by your chin, which is super glued to your chest. On closer inspection I notice a closed fist. There is something inside, but what, I cannot tell for it is clenched in hand to within an inch of its life.

Curious, I move towards you one step closer, but for you, it's one step too far. You head shoots a glance in my direction. I've disturbed you. Interrupted your game. Tainted the moment.

Mumma: "What have you got, Tiny?"

You understood every word, outstretching your arm, fist still firmly closed, so as to offer me your secretive treasure. I respond with an open palm. And then you?

Your head shakes in a vehement decline as your  arm whips back to your side and you scurry that body of yours as quickly as humanly possible in the opposite direction.

You tiny temptress!

Three Hundred and Sixteen - 08.11.14

{Big}

Conversation with a toddler #9870:

Big: "Good morning to you, Mumma. My sleep was so wonderful dat I turned into a bear. Little Bear is my name!"

Mumma: "Why hello there, Little Bear. Do you think you could help me find Big's clothes for today?"

Big: "Yes, of course I can! I can eben do it by myself wif just a sniff of my nose!"

On hands and knees, Little Bear did go. And soon returned with an outfit in mouth.

Three Hundred and Seventeen - 09.11.14

{Tiny}

The day has arrived. What was once too soon is now just right. A babe you are still, but you're now a babe with added arms. Farewell swaddle suits at sleep time. They've serve us well, and despite the fact they are no longer required means the babe grows, they will not be missed. Hello babe who can settle her very own self with dummies sought with limbs of her very own. Huzzah!

Three Hundred and Eighteen - 10.11.14

{Big}

Conversation with a toddler #46728:

Mumma: "Would you mind switching off the television please, Big?"

Big: "A pig in your garden?"

Mumma: "Sorry, Big. What did you say?"

Big: "Yes. Dat's what I meaned when I sayed."

Mumma: "Can you try again please? I'm just not following..."

Big: "A pig in your garden. I didn't heared what you sayed, Mumma, so I asked you berry nicely so you can sayed it again."

Mumma: [light bulb moment] "Oh. You mean, I BEG your PARDON?"

Big: "Yes, but da pig one."

**

Monday, November 10, 2014

45/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, for 2014."
 
Big: T'was a big day, Big. A skipped midday siesta means post 4pm looks a whole lot like... this.
 
Tiny: Oh you. Would you please stop it will all of the cute? But not really. I adore you.
 
**

Thursday, November 6, 2014

{Just One Thing} Week Forty Four


Three Hundred and Five - 28.10.14

{Big}

Over the past month of so, it's been baby season 'round these parts. Spring tends to do that, but this year, there's been an influx of wee little babes in our life. Now the seasoned big sister, you're quite fond on meeting and touching and cooing over the tiny newcomers. But it doesn't make the whole additional arrival thing any less confusing for your toddler mind.

Mumma: "A new baby arrived last night, Big. Baby Ella!

Big: "Oh! What happen to baby John? Did he broked and Aunty Amy meeded a new one?"

Mumma: "No, no. Baby John is fine. He is Aunty Amy's baby. Ella is Aunty Jade's new baby."

Big: "But what about Callum?"

Mumma: "Yes, Callum is still Aunty Jade's baby too. But now he's a big brother! Ella is his new baby sister."

Big: "So now dere's two babies? Baby John, baby Ella, and baby Callum. But dat makes THREE!"

Three Hundred and Six - 29.10.14

{Tiny}

There's fire in you. Deep down inside the base of your belly. We met today. Had I have known this earlier, perhaps I could have been more welcoming? Mustered up a calm and gentle greeting, even? But truthfully, I was taken aback.

With a squawk and eyes that screamed fury, you pouted your lips and your face soured. Your head shook with vigour until our eyes met and you screeched, "Naaaa".

Messaged received. Loud and clear, my Tiny love. While unleashing that energy was releasing for you, know that I would have still listened had you have expressed yourself a little less... emotively. But we're still learning, you and I. That truly is one of the beauties of mothering a babe. There's just never a moment that is free from discovery. And isn't that mighty grand?

Three Hundred and Seven - 30.10.14

{Big}

Conversation with a toddler #8709:

Big: "Are you cwanky, Mumma? Hab you not got your happy face on?"

Mumma; "Oh, Big. I am feeling very tired today. I didn't have a great sleep last night, and that does make me a little bit cranky, I suppose."

Big: "Dat's okay, I can help! See dis rainbow wand? It's magical. I will wabe it and wabe it and magic all da cwankies away, just wike dat! You can't be cwanky when dere's rainbows eberwhere - see!"

Three Hundred and Eight - 31.10.14

{Tiny}

You are starting to become more and more confident on your feet. There's no time more so, than when you hands are gripped tightly around the iron bars of your sisters bed, especially when trying to rouse her from her slumber. Your baby body bobs with bended knees, your head shakes and you wiggle your wee hips from side to side. If you knew it was possible to have your feet leave the floor, I have no doubt that you would. You squeal. You yell. You cackle. You free your grasp and walk the perimeter of the bed, the mattress bouncing at the hand of your patting. You gums grin and your face exudes happiness. This here, is a perfect image of your childhood. It's simple. It's crazy. And my goodness, is it fun.

Three Hundred and Nine - 01.11.14

{Big}

For the longest time now, your breakfast has consisted of dried cereal in a bowl with a cup of milk on the side. Most importantly, one must not touch the other. Ever. But not lately.

These days, you've taken a more traditional approach. Milk over cereal. In a bowl. And, shock horror, eaten with a spoon (and not your fingers, like days of old). For a serial (do you see what I did there?) independent spoon refuse-r, you're doing a mighty fine job, actually. You take time and care and pride yourself on "making no drips".

Big: "Do you see what I'm doing, Mumma?"

Mumma: "Yes, Big. You're eating your breakfast like a very big girl."

Big: "No, not today. Today I'm just making a mess..."

Honesty. Most definitely your strong suit.

Three Hundred and Ten - 02.11.14 

{Tiny}

Right now, I'm pondering the potential to call you Tiny forever. These days with all of the growing and changing and newness, Tiny seems less suited. We've ticked over to the month that you turn one. Every day your confidence is greater and your wobbles fewer, and closer and closer to your first step you go.

Since your climbing days began, we've made adjustments to suit. The lowest shelf in your little library became home to board books alone, but today that became shelves one and two, with only one more rung remaining out of reach... for now.

What will it be tomorrow?

Three Hundred and Eleven - 03.11.14

{Big}

Conversation with a toddler #8901:

Big: "One day, I'm going to be a Mumma, you know?"

Mumma: "That will be wonderful, Big."

Big: "One day, but not yet dough 'cause I'm still wearning."

Mumma: "Daddy will be pleased to hear that, honey."

Big: "Yes he will. And he will be pleased to hear dat you're a berry good teacher for my wearnings too. Maybe eben da best Mumma teacher in da whole world."

Heart stop. Cue tears. Yes, really. Lots of them.

**

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