Occupation : baby

Every man, woman and child must complete an immigration declaration... They let me sign for her though...

birthday sorbet

Yum Yum

So we met a little friend for birthday treats yesterday and the little princess got to try her first non-dairy sorbet... mummy gave up any attempt at civilised dining etiquette and simply gave her the spoon, and she lapped it up! Half the scoop disappeared rapidly... but clearly it was in intense experience!  This was the face made with every mouthful!

Happy monday holiday lunch...

Happy autumn picnic sunday....

Another Win for Mummy!

Mummy had a win....
I have been working, since she was born, to break the little angel's wilful spirit... Mummy is BOSS - thats B for Bubble, O for Octopus, S for Swing and S for Sleep!
Recently I have had the dawn banshee to contend with, and she almost got the better of me.... But never fear dear readers.... in the end.... Mummy won :-)
My angel was waking up at 4:30 every morning... I am sure you can imagine how thrilling this is... I have never been a morning person, and frankly, I never want to be someone who functions at 4:30am - that must be some kind of sickness....
So I was engaged in the battlefield of staggering back and forth to her room to try to persuade her to go back to sleep.  My rule is that we don't get up until 5:30 at the earliest.... I mean really, have some decency child!  So there I went, stagger, groan, plead, stagger.... as the day slowly lightened and I listened to my internal voice wine pittifully about having to go to work in a few hours.... So then, in the past, when 5:30 finally rolled around I would stomp into her room and get her up and out of bed.  At this point she would beam at me beautifully and I would feel like the evil witch of the east growling weakly at her...This was our pattern for more days than I could bear...
And then I realised.... I realised that of course what she thought was happening was that she was yelling until I cracked!  She had learned, thanks to my brain dead attempts to maintain sanity and the rules, that I would eventually give in! She had no idea that the clock had ticked its painful way around to the appointed hour of permission... duh!
So I thought I was winning because she stayed in bed til 5:30 - but she thought she was winning by wearing me down! Nooooooooooo the baby MUST. NOT. WIN!
So when that clicked I bit the bullet the next morning and when I was gently awaken by the melodious screech of my dear heart angel.... I marched in to that room and told her, in no uncertain terms, that mummy was no longer a fool, and she was not getting up til she went back to sleep...
Consequently she screamed the house down from 4:30-5:45.... and then went back to sleep til 6:20! Woopee... and that was our last big screaming episode... since then she has woken up at 5:30 each morning... and today when she did wake up at 4:30, I went in and told her to go back to sleep...and she complained for about 3 mins and then slept til 6:30 :-)
Ah the wins! the wins!  Waaa haaa haaa haaaa :-)

welcome to puke town, population us.

There is really nothing quite like it... There mummy sits, peacefully feeding her baby in their favourite spot on the couch...child lays back on a feather pillow, mummy reclines with her head on a velvet pillow... its an archetypal image of gentle beauty, of calmness, of sweet scented tops of baby's heads, and of a moment to enjoy the loving bond between mother and child.  The little angel gazes into mummy's eyes sleepily, her little fingers toy with mummy's, upsy daisy sings a merry tune on the dvd... all is good in the world.   And then it happens... the wee cherub looks concerned, opens her mouth, maybe lets out a little burp, and then it comes... the flood.... the fountain... the tsunami.  From her delicate wee mouth pours a river of the entire day's curdled milk and partially digested pureed vegetables... and still it comes... and that sweet little mouth becomes the gateway of puke town.  And still it comes...she looks horrified, mummy is horrified - and is wearing it all, from chest to knee... and still it comes and soon there is a mini-swimming pool around mummy's bottom where it nestles into the couch... the overflow floods the pillow, the rest of the couch, and avalanches onto the floor...
There is nothing to do but let it all come...then when it is finally over, with a cough and a wail, cautiously lift the child, trying to hold onto the pool in her lap, and slip slop into the shower, dribbling unhappily into the carpet along the way.  Mummy and child sit under the shower and peel off their clothes as the drain clogs and the stench infiltrates mummy's pores.  Even long after the shower she can still feel the bits of her that have been bathed in today's puke treatment, and it ain't no day spa feeling.
So then its time to wash the child, dry the child, sooth the child, re-feed the child, settle the child to sleep.... and then mummy has the lovely task of putting everything in the washing, getting re-dressed herself, cleaning up the pools of congealing puke on the couch and floor, disinfecting surfaces... and then finally she might be able to face cooking some dinner for herself, or perhaps just collapse on the slightly damp couch with a stiff drink.  Again....

All I can say is Bluck.  This is not the fun bit.

one year and three days

So one year and three days ago a magical event happened...
I sit here and look at the sleeping baby in my arms and it is incredible to think that one year and three days ago cells were joined, and cells divided, and this utterly beautiful gorgeous little angel started forming.
One year and three days ago my life changed forever, my identity, my lifestyle, my priorities, my sense of myself in the world...
One year and three days ago I began learning to love in a whole new way...

One year and three days ago I danced at an African festival. I was happy because the woman I loved had opened her heart and come back to me. I was happy because I was surrounded by loving friends. I was happy because I made a yummy risotto for my parents, my donor, my lover and her daughter... my big strangely shaped family around my dinner table. I was happy because I was full of hope for the future. And the happiness found its way inside me, and called out to a perfect little girl..."Come"..the happiness said "here is a wonderful place, a warm place, a place of laughter and joy...come to this life, this home, this woman... come and share the happiness and make it manifold"
And so my Indigo Rose found life.... one year and three days ago.

Our first parties!

So we went to our first birthday parties... first a Dora party to celebrate Isabella turning 3...and then a pizza party for Maddie turning 4.
I am not sure what Indi made of the adventure...but for me it was a beautiful moment of realising that fantasy had become reality. So many times in the past in my life I have looked in from the outside on kids' birthday parties...I have attended some, and seen many from a distance... and always I hoped and wished that one day I would take my child along, or better yet, have a party for my very own child.
And today that dream started to come true.