Monday, November 27, 2006
snips and snails, and puppy dog tails
My little boy has been asleep on the sofa since we returned from the soft play centre almost two hours ago. Oh how lovely it was to cuddle and coo over two little girl babies; such a treat when you're mummy to a boy. Caroline's daughter Emily gave us little gurgles and smiles, and Tosha's daughter Kalila happily sat in my arms (and Jack happily played with the puddle of spew she left on the table, but I digress). Meanwhile, Jack tore around the place, diving head first into the ball pits and making "ROOOWRRRR!!" noises. Jack followed Indigo around and they copied each other's every move. They yelled and screamed, and most of the time they were just little toddler blurs blazing past us. Totally adorable, but it made me think that having two boys must be exhausting. Cute, but exhausting.
Other cute things:
-Jack's toys in his cot are called "puppy", "puppy", and "raaaaaaarrrrr!" (the lion)
-he's still doing his pretend wees and poos, but come anywhere near him when he's doing a real poo and he'll say "noooooooooooo!!!" and hold up his hand to stop you. He's a very private young man.
-he has his first Christmas play on Dec. 15. I will spend the entire time taking pictures and sobbing like a lunatic.
-funniest thing heard on the baby monitor for a long time: "Da-deeeee. Da-deeee. It's da-deeeee. Da-deeeee. It's da-deeeee." (repeat for another 10 minutes)
-just like his mummy and daddy, Jack thinks raw celery is Satan's salad ingredient.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
potty all the time
Jack has started to mimic us, both verbally and in actions - which is both amusing and frightening at the same time. Amusing to see us recreated in mini me form, frightening to realise that we really do need to stop swearing and eating things right from the fridge (that last one probably only applies to me). So the other day, Jack looks at me with a frown, grabs his crotch (as boys are wont to do), and says "Wee!" "Jack having a wee?" I ask in my cheery "let's be chipper about potty-related things so that our son's not traumatised about the whole thing" voice. "WEE!" he says more adamantly, and points towards the downstairs bathroom. "Owah..owah" he says, meaning "shower", which is Jack's word for the bathroom. Goodness, he actually wants to use the toilet, I think.
So we walk to the bathroom together, and then I realise a) we don't have a potty nor a footstool to reach the toilet and b) I have no idea how to aim a toddler's winkie so that he actually wees in the toilet and not all over my shoe rack. I knew that he's definitely not ready for potty training yet, so I wasn't even going to attempt it. Instead, we did a "pretend wee". I put him on the toilet (fully dressed) while he sat there with a massive grin. "Did Jack wee?" I asked. "Yeah" he said, and he got down, flushed the toilet, and put the lid back down. I kid you not. We have raised a boy that doesn't leave the seat up. If we teach him how to cook, he'll have women pouring through his front door in around 20 years.
Almost every day since that first toilet trip he says "Owah!" and points to the bathroom, and I sit him on the toilet as he gleefully tells me if he's had a wee or poo. The other day, he took some toilet paper and pretended to wipe afterwards. If he starts spritzing the bathroom with that nice air freshener we always keep next to the toilet, I may find that slightly disturbing.
Friday, November 17, 2006
this might get ugly
Jack can only identify one Disney character, and he always does so with an enthusiastic cry of "POOH!!" When Jack fills his nappy, he says (solemnly) "Poo."
I'm just wondering how this is all going to pan out when it comes time to potty train.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
storytime with jack
Jack pulls his picturebook off the bookcase and climbs up into our bed with it. It's 7am, it's dark, and I don't have my contacts in.
Jack: [pointing at a picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: [squinting and moving the book closer until my nose touches the page] "It's a truck."
Jack: [pointing at another picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: "Car."
Jack: [pointing at another picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: "Aeroplane."
Jack: [pointing at another picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: "Digger."
Jack: [pointing at the same picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: "That's still the digger."
Jack: [pointing at a different picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: "It's a..."
Jack: [interrupting] "What's that?" [rapidly points at another picture] "What's that?"
Me: "It's...um...wait...what are you pointing at?"
Jack: [pointing at another picture in the book] "What's that?"
Me: "That's the car again."
Jack: [pointing at an empty space on the page] "What's that?"
[long pause]
Me: "Mummy's going back to sleep now."
Yeah, yeah I know. Bad Mother.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
chatterbox
Jack's vocabulary seems to have expanded rapidly since our trip to the States. It started with a few words and has evolved into two-word sentences, which is very cool. I'm not one to brag and there seems to be lots of other children around Jack's age who are reciting Shakespearean sonnets from memory, so this isn't at all about how brilliant my child is. It's all about how wonderful it is to be able to interact with Jack and thoroughly enjoying watching him learn about the world around him. We had the crayons out yesterday and he pointed at one and asked "What's that?" and I said "purple crayon." "Puh-ple," he repeated solemnly. I could almost see the little cogs turning in his head as his brain filed away this new piece of information. Everything in the house is identified by a finger point and "it's mummy's", "it's daddy's", or "MINE!" Apparently Jasper owns nothing, which is a bit sad, really.
I won't list everything he says, but suffice it to say that anything said in a tiny toddler's voice is pretty damn adorable. Equally, the word "mummy" when said in a sad sleepy voice in the middle of the night is enough to make me say "Yes, darling whatever you want! Cuddles? Milk? Snacks? My credit card number? Here! Take it! Take it all!" I am going to be in deep trouble for the next few years.
On a totally unrelated note, many congratulations and much happiness to lovely Lisa over at Turquoise who had a baby girl yesterday!
Friday, November 03, 2006
but i only let him watch the discovery channel
I always claimed that Jack's not interested in television (thus explaining my lack of knowledge about things like Ballamory and fit looking guys in The Wiggles), because he never seems to pay attention to it when I have it on. Or so I thought. While we were on holiday, Jack found a remote in our hotel room, held it up to me and said, with great seriousness, "On." Ha ha, how cute! Then the next day, and every day following: "On." (repeatedly until I either told him that the TV was broken or I just switched it on to avoid a hissy fit). At the airport while we were waiting for our luggage to come crashing down the conveyor belt, he spotted two monitors hanging from the ceiling. "On." he said, with his little pudgy finger pointing at the screens. It's true what they say; television is a drug and my son is addicted. Or I should say, he's addicted to switching it on - he doesn't really care about watching it. My son is addicted to white noise, then. Probably goes back to the womb. Or something.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
you know you're a Bad Mother when...
...you decide that you will diligently avoid giving your child nuts in any form until the age of two (due to nut allergies on both sides of the family), only to notice your son is chowing down heartily on a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Ten minutes after giving it to him.
I blame the jet lag.