Sunday, July 12, 2009

Make Believe

Acacia was tumbling and crawling and pulling herself up all over the lounge in the watchful care of her doting daddy so I snuck upstairs to wake Honour up from her lunchtime nap on my own.

She had already been awake for some time and was clearly extremely busy tending to a row of teddies and dolls that she'd lined up at the head of her cot.

"Waiting for doctor" she announced. "Waiting, waiting. Have wait for doctor."
(She's cottoned on to how the National Health Service works already).

She turned and tucked up her doll Cupcake under her cover.

With Acacia downstairs, I took advantage of some sweet one-on-one time with daughter numero uno. I hopped into the cot with her.

"Lie down, mummy, lie down."

I lay down next to Cupcake.

Honour tucked me in, being very careful to cover my bare toes.

"Baby is plorly (poorly)" she informed me of Cupcake's medical status. "Baby too hot. Baby born in ambulance. Too hot."

"Baby need cuddle. You give cuddle mummy."

I obliged, poor Cupcake was clearly in a bad way after her sudden birth in an ambulance...what with the being too hot and all.

Honour then took Cupcake back and cuddled her making clucking noises before announcing;
"Can't cuddle. Too heavy"

She turned to address the middle of her room. "Nurse, nurse! Baby ploorly, waiting for doctor." She held a one-sided conversation with the imaginary nurse for a few moments while I marvelled at the power of her make-believe.

She tucked Cupcake back under the covers next to me and planted a plethora of wet kisses directly on Cupcake's lips.

"Got nose-snot. Wipe Baby nose-sot. (nose-snot)"

She took her imaginary fissue (tissue) and blew Cupcake's nose for her while making fabulously realistic sound effects.

I started to giggle. She looked at me, giggling at the pretend nose-blowing, and widened her eyes.

She paused a heartbeat. A light went on: 'I'm making my mummy laugh.... I'm FUNNY!'

She giggled back. I giggled. She giggled some more.

There we sat, tucked up in her cot looking at each other nose to nose and giggling our heads off.

Now this is a side to motherhood that I could really get into. Beautifully removed from the practical sides of the job.

Imagination at the ready? Let's make-believe.




Friday, July 10, 2009

On awakening

Ug. Friday.

My eyeballs have been stolen in the night and replaced with marbles. Marbles made of lead. Leaden marbles attached to my brain through my eye sockets by weighty anchors.

Acacia is grumbling in her cot. But when she sees me enter the room she immediately launches herself into full-on charm offensive. So much so that I check to see if a unicorn, floating on a rainbow, covered in marshmallows is directly behind me. No, it is just me. She grins and coos. Despite eyeballs, can't help but grin and coo back. Dang, this kid is good.

Honour is awake too and whining in her cot. When she sees me enter the room she launches herself into a full-on performance. Acacia thinks this is even more delightful than the sight of my grumpy face first thing in the morning. She giggles.

Meanwhile my Friday-morning-brain tries to interpret performance. Honour is pretending to be a cat? Or a baby? Or an aubergine? Now she's hiding under her blanket and mewing. Just as my brain registers this..."Good morning sweetheart....are you a cat?". She leaps up and launches into 'Where's Acacia? Acacia crying? Acacia laughing? Where is wind? Wind hurts my ear. Got wind in my ear. Ow my tummy. NO! NO! Leave blanket! Going to nurswery? Not hungry. Read a book? Want blanket off. WANT BLANKET OFF. Where's Daddy? Gone to wuuuurk?"

Not sure I have enough neurons to keep up with this conversation. I'm still lagging behind in the part about the wind in her ear...but she's moved on to which top she wants to wear to nurswery. Bite lip to prevent self snapping at her to 'please put your knickers on now'.

From somewhere deep beneath the layers of grump, my better self reminds me SHE is being utterly delightful and I am a grumpy old croc that should crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep until I can be as pleasant in the mornings as my children.

That should be sometime around 2012.














Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Reported Peach

Here's a little peach of a reported speech between my mum and Honour:

Nanny Render: Honour, did you know that Acacia is nine months old already?

Honour: (indignantly) She not OLD, nanny. She a BABY.


Sidenote
(Is this wrong? Honour calls her Nanny Bender. Makes me laugh everytime.)

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

It's alright; the 9 month old is chewing on a knife while sticking her head in the oven

Fortunately it's a plastic knife and a toy oven, so my neglect of the second-born in order to blog is not quite as child-protection-services-inducing as it sounds.

Hello.

(She's now sucking a teapot lid)

This is my multi-tasking, one eye on the child at all times (back to sucking knife), two-childed self. How the heck have you been?

(Still the knife, now the pointy end)

At the risk of alienating anyone whose precious bundle of preciousness is not sleeping like a baby ridiculous expression... Acacia has decided to give up tormenting me and sleep at night. And we only had 8 months of pretty much no sleep to get through before this happened!

(Saucepan lid)

[Sidenote to anyone who cares what made the difference: a) no idea b) loads of solids c) a dummy and d) a shift in the alignment of the planets e) I stopped wearing as much green ]

(faceplanting in small purple cup)

Anyway, lest you get the impression that parenthood is anything less than a fairy walk of constant joy and thrills with pixies throwing chocolate dust over you all day long, while you kickback and laugh uproariously en famille every few minutes....Acacia is an absolute delight and the smiliest of smiling girls. No, really, she is.

Oh and now I'm getting some sleep a few of my braincells have started to fire up in a way that freshly enables me to remember, uh, words and stuff. So, thought I'd start up the old blog again.

I'm still loving the Facebook...but occasionally need to indulge myself in sentences longer than a status.

Bearing in mind the utter domesticity of my lifestyle I wouldn't get too excited about it. Unless you enjoy hearing about how many bodily fluids I clear up on a daily basis.






Saturday, July 04, 2009

Thinking of reviving ye olde blogge

Just seeing if I can remember how this darntootin thing works...