The Twenty First Month: July 2006
5th
This morning we went to St Werburgh’s City Farm with Claire and Kit. I love watching you interact with other children. Suddenly you have your own world with these other little people. You and Kit had a private chat, and you took his hand and went to look at the ‘aminals’; the hairy rutting pigs, the gentle brown goats, the hens and chickens and the ‘cock-a-do-loo- loo’.
Overheard while carrying you out of the car:
“Rainin’, pourin’
Man ina bed
Bumpy head
Mornin’
“It’s raining, it’s pouring
The old man is snoring..
He went to bed and bumped his head
And couldn’t get up in the morning.”
6th
You came into our bed this morning, and climbed on top of me as you sometimes do. For some strange reason you showed more interest in my breasts than you have since you were weaned. You put your mouth to my nipple, and licked one side and then the other. I think you were trying out the baby thing, and seemed to think it was all quite funny. I realised that somewhere in your consciousness you must have the memory of breastfeeding, even though you have probably now lost the ability to suck. Ten or so weeks after I stopped breastfeeding, droplets of milk still form on my nipples if they are squeezed.
7th
You are such an affectionate boy. You often stop me in the middle of something; washing up, cooking or tidying and say “hold hand”, which means you want me to share whatever you’re doing; looking at a snail, trying to turn the key in the lock of the kitchen door; or you want me to read you a book. You love Michael Rosen’s ‘We ‘re going on a Bear Hunt’. You talk about the children in the book, the baby, the boy with the stick, the doggy, the Papa.
We’re going on a bear hunt
We’re going to catch a big one
What a beautiful day
We’re not scared.
When I first began reading it to you, a couple of months ago, you kept repeating ‘scared’, and would look at me with this sad, worried face. I didn’t think you knew what scared meant. But you had some understanding that it meant something was wrong.
You love water, and can spend ages in the garden pouring water out of the watering can, or any receptacle that I fill. You also like shaking drops of water from your lidded beaker onto your plate or the table at mealtimes. The other day I found you filling my nice red shoes with water, but I wasn’t too cross.
You are quite a keen gardener and love to help me digging. You often repeat ‘hosepipe’ and ‘watering can’ and like to help me digging when I’m planting salad seeds. You had a good giggle the other day when you put on my gardening gloves. Putting on our shoes, sun glasses and hats is also a great source of entertainment. And you are becoming quite independent and want to put your own clothes on in the morning. You also like to go round the house wearing your ‘welly boots’.
You often chat to yourself in the car, repeating fragments of nursery rhymes like:”diddle, cat, fiddle”, “Georgie Porgie ran away” and “Pussy cat, London, queen, “ Your favourite phrase at the moment is “Papa cutting the grass”. And you’ve discovered the joys of cycling on the front seat of Papa’s bike; you love your cycle helmet and cry when it’s time to part with it.
11th
Suddenly you have started to become possessive about your toys. Jimmy was here this morning (also about 20 months), and even before he had shown any interest in any of your things, you began clutching things to your chest and screeching ‘no, no!’ at the top of your voice. You even held on tightly to your sandwich and bowl, for fear of losing it.
We were at Simon’s and Bashak’s wedding at the weekend, and I noticed how much you chatted with the other children. You were playing with Irma (27 months), and I overheard you saying to her ‘that’s enough, that’s enough’. Mmm, wonder where you got that from? You often say ‘leave it’ rather forcefully to the cats. It reminds me of how you really do learn everything by imitation.
12th
Amazingly, you went for your nap on your own today – happy just to climb into the cot after a story, and I left the room as the phone was ringing. You love snuggling up to your pillow or quilt or the ‘sunny cloth’ – a fleecy yellow sheet with rabbits on it, so called because Winnie sings a song about the sunny cloth, while you hide under it.
When you woke up you called out Mama, and when I opened the door, you said ‘Hiya’, with a big smile on your face. What a lovely surprise. You continued to play in your cot, while I pottered in and out of the room – when asked if you wanted to get out, you’d said no.
13th
One of THOSE days. A good morning; I went swimming and you had breakfast with Papa, and then he took you to work. I picked you up at 10am (as usual you were playing with some electrical item and flex). We had a lovely sunny morning at the park, with the children from Winnie’s parent and toddler group,
But this afternoon, when you woke from your nap (1 – 3.10pm), first you didn’t want to get out of the cot. So far, so good. But then you repeatedly said a word I didn’t understand, while crying. You rejected everything I offered you; a cuddle, food, water, a book, going to play in the garden, going for a walk to post letters…there was a lot of no, no, no, and screams of rage and frustration. I tried taking you into the street and distracting you, but that only worked momentarily, also singing. Anyway the whole episode went on for about 45 minutes. Eventually we went out with the pushchair, and you took up my offer of an apple. This is not the first time its happened – but it is exhausting. I lost it after about half an hour of trying to console you, and ended up shouting ‘ snap out of it, I’ve had enough’ which was totally pointless. You only cried more, and when I left you in the sitting room, you followed me, crying out Mama, with a very unhappy face. I tried cuddling you again.
It ‘s like you didn’t know what you wanted, or had cried for so long and hard that you had forgotten. When in the garden, I ‘d tried to distract you by showing you the bees on the lavender, but you just said ‘no, no, no, very emphatically. (Busy, busy, bumbly bees – what you said tonight while going off to sleep).
It didn’t help that I spent the whole of your nap time doing admin – letters, tax return admin, chasing up someone to mend washing machine that flooded the kitchen this morning, steaming some salmon and veg for our tea.
In spite of your father giving you your supper, I didn’t seem to sit down for more than 10mins between 4.30 and 7pm. He sat in sun reading Scientific American, while I made a clutch of phone calls – organizing cats to be fed while we are on holiday, sorting out washing machine again, thinking about packing, half tidying the clean and dirty clothes strewn about the house, the dirty crockery upstairs and down, and various toys and objects about the place.
This morning we went to St Werburgh’s City Farm with Claire and Kit. I love watching you interact with other children. Suddenly you have your own world with these other little people. You and Kit had a private chat, and you took his hand and went to look at the ‘aminals’; the hairy rutting pigs, the gentle brown goats, the hens and chickens and the ‘cock-a-do-loo- loo’.
Overheard while carrying you out of the car:
“Rainin’, pourin’
Man ina bed
Bumpy head
Mornin’
“It’s raining, it’s pouring
The old man is snoring..
He went to bed and bumped his head
And couldn’t get up in the morning.”
6th
You came into our bed this morning, and climbed on top of me as you sometimes do. For some strange reason you showed more interest in my breasts than you have since you were weaned. You put your mouth to my nipple, and licked one side and then the other. I think you were trying out the baby thing, and seemed to think it was all quite funny. I realised that somewhere in your consciousness you must have the memory of breastfeeding, even though you have probably now lost the ability to suck. Ten or so weeks after I stopped breastfeeding, droplets of milk still form on my nipples if they are squeezed.
7th
You are such an affectionate boy. You often stop me in the middle of something; washing up, cooking or tidying and say “hold hand”, which means you want me to share whatever you’re doing; looking at a snail, trying to turn the key in the lock of the kitchen door; or you want me to read you a book. You love Michael Rosen’s ‘We ‘re going on a Bear Hunt’. You talk about the children in the book, the baby, the boy with the stick, the doggy, the Papa.
We’re going on a bear hunt
We’re going to catch a big one
What a beautiful day
We’re not scared.
When I first began reading it to you, a couple of months ago, you kept repeating ‘scared’, and would look at me with this sad, worried face. I didn’t think you knew what scared meant. But you had some understanding that it meant something was wrong.
You love water, and can spend ages in the garden pouring water out of the watering can, or any receptacle that I fill. You also like shaking drops of water from your lidded beaker onto your plate or the table at mealtimes. The other day I found you filling my nice red shoes with water, but I wasn’t too cross.
You are quite a keen gardener and love to help me digging. You often repeat ‘hosepipe’ and ‘watering can’ and like to help me digging when I’m planting salad seeds. You had a good giggle the other day when you put on my gardening gloves. Putting on our shoes, sun glasses and hats is also a great source of entertainment. And you are becoming quite independent and want to put your own clothes on in the morning. You also like to go round the house wearing your ‘welly boots’.
You often chat to yourself in the car, repeating fragments of nursery rhymes like:”diddle, cat, fiddle”, “Georgie Porgie ran away” and “Pussy cat, London, queen, “ Your favourite phrase at the moment is “Papa cutting the grass”. And you’ve discovered the joys of cycling on the front seat of Papa’s bike; you love your cycle helmet and cry when it’s time to part with it.
11th
Suddenly you have started to become possessive about your toys. Jimmy was here this morning (also about 20 months), and even before he had shown any interest in any of your things, you began clutching things to your chest and screeching ‘no, no!’ at the top of your voice. You even held on tightly to your sandwich and bowl, for fear of losing it.
We were at Simon’s and Bashak’s wedding at the weekend, and I noticed how much you chatted with the other children. You were playing with Irma (27 months), and I overheard you saying to her ‘that’s enough, that’s enough’. Mmm, wonder where you got that from? You often say ‘leave it’ rather forcefully to the cats. It reminds me of how you really do learn everything by imitation.
12th
Amazingly, you went for your nap on your own today – happy just to climb into the cot after a story, and I left the room as the phone was ringing. You love snuggling up to your pillow or quilt or the ‘sunny cloth’ – a fleecy yellow sheet with rabbits on it, so called because Winnie sings a song about the sunny cloth, while you hide under it.
When you woke up you called out Mama, and when I opened the door, you said ‘Hiya’, with a big smile on your face. What a lovely surprise. You continued to play in your cot, while I pottered in and out of the room – when asked if you wanted to get out, you’d said no.
13th
One of THOSE days. A good morning; I went swimming and you had breakfast with Papa, and then he took you to work. I picked you up at 10am (as usual you were playing with some electrical item and flex). We had a lovely sunny morning at the park, with the children from Winnie’s parent and toddler group,
But this afternoon, when you woke from your nap (1 – 3.10pm), first you didn’t want to get out of the cot. So far, so good. But then you repeatedly said a word I didn’t understand, while crying. You rejected everything I offered you; a cuddle, food, water, a book, going to play in the garden, going for a walk to post letters…there was a lot of no, no, no, and screams of rage and frustration. I tried taking you into the street and distracting you, but that only worked momentarily, also singing. Anyway the whole episode went on for about 45 minutes. Eventually we went out with the pushchair, and you took up my offer of an apple. This is not the first time its happened – but it is exhausting. I lost it after about half an hour of trying to console you, and ended up shouting ‘ snap out of it, I’ve had enough’ which was totally pointless. You only cried more, and when I left you in the sitting room, you followed me, crying out Mama, with a very unhappy face. I tried cuddling you again.
It ‘s like you didn’t know what you wanted, or had cried for so long and hard that you had forgotten. When in the garden, I ‘d tried to distract you by showing you the bees on the lavender, but you just said ‘no, no, no, very emphatically. (Busy, busy, bumbly bees – what you said tonight while going off to sleep).
It didn’t help that I spent the whole of your nap time doing admin – letters, tax return admin, chasing up someone to mend washing machine that flooded the kitchen this morning, steaming some salmon and veg for our tea.
In spite of your father giving you your supper, I didn’t seem to sit down for more than 10mins between 4.30 and 7pm. He sat in sun reading Scientific American, while I made a clutch of phone calls – organizing cats to be fed while we are on holiday, sorting out washing machine again, thinking about packing, half tidying the clean and dirty clothes strewn about the house, the dirty crockery upstairs and down, and various toys and objects about the place.
posted by f at 7:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home