New words

25 February 2007, 08:43

She has “mum mum mum mum” and “dad dad dad dad” pretty much sorted so she’s all gung ho for new sounds and flavours.

Amongst some of the newies are:

• duts - very like “ducks” and used very often in company of her rubber duckie(s), but given that she carries these with her most of the day, probably doesn’t mean a thing.

• adidas - she is the brand champion.

and the new black:

• ass - this morning, when McG picked her up for a cuddle, she pointed straight in his face and said (with cheeky grin) - “Ass”.

She’s so very advanced.

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Boob juice off the Menu

22 February 2007, 16:07

Yes. As title suggests, this post is about BREASTS and FEEDING and MILK. Not the full-cream stuff but BOOB MILK. If this makes your cream curdle, then, for the love of god, stop reading.

Scout has been a wee bit ill this week. Apparently she has some kind of virus that has caused ulcers in her mouth. I guess that’s what happens when you insist on drinking wading pool water jammed full of other bubs’ pee, dirt, sweat and germies.

So she hasn’t been to creche this week, much to McG and my chagrin. She’s been clingy and whiney and last night decided to whine every 5 minutes (I’m not kidding you) between 9pm and 2am. That’s right, for 5 freakin’ hours. We gave her panadol, we offered her water (not interested), we soothed her sweaty brow but she was so unsettled.

And the worst of it, she has decided she’s not having ANY of this BOOBY lark at the evening feed (about 6.30pm). NONE! She sucks for about 4 seconds, then pushes off with a wee nibble/bite. For the first couple of days it was no doubt because her ulcers hurt, but now I think she just can’t be arsed.

I cracked the sads a bit on Tuesday night - I mean, the way she was going she wasn’t looking like weaning until she was faking her own ID. But alas, 13 months down the track and booby is off the menu.

Permanently.

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Party Season

18 February 2007, 17:25

Scout’s social calendar has officially reached fever pitch.

Not sold on the Hat

Q: What do you get when you put eight two year old monkeys in a backyard with one 1 year old chimpanzee?
A: One poor little beaten-up Scout.

Last Wednesday was Milly’s second birthday. Milly’s mum, “D” heavily pregnant with #2 is one of my dearest friends. We met during our recruiting days, and bonded, as you do in a (somewhat unhealthy) culture of afternoon-long boozy lunches, Friday night debauchery and stressful deadlines. Oh, how those days have been well and truly sucked down the pre-baby plug-hole.

Two-year old children are a rather special breed (sweet jesus, I am savouring Scout’s guileless charm before it’s too late) - too old to have much patience for anything or anyone smaller but too young to understand that kicking someone in the head is not cool.

Poor Scout got kicked/hustled/jostled/bulldozed by the toddler tribe, all innocent of course, and she took it seamlessly in her stride, and was totally enraptured with all these big little people, even the ones who tried to whack her on the head. She did try to run one little dude down in Milly’s plastic tractor, though, so she can obviously give as good as she gets.

The mums were apologetic about their kids behaviour (as if they needed to be!) especially the one who explained that her little boy was “going through a phase of hitting, biting and wreaking havoc on society at large”. This same little boy, though, wouldn’t leave the party until he’d given Scout a sizeable hug and kiss. Then proceeded to try and pick her up. Bless…

Scout considers payback

I was careful of being too overprotective, as the kids weren’t being deliberately rambunctious (I don’t think?) and in any case, I do believe that she has to learn to stand up for herself, but when one little three-year old told Scout about 12 times (complete with wagging nana-finger), “NO MORE CAKE!” “NO MORE CAKE!” I did explain gently that once was probably enough.

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This weekend (impossibly sweltering days - 38 degrees with not a spit in sight) we had two more birthdays - both “firsts”. It was all McG and I could do during either parties, to lethargically raise our glasses of beer/wine/bev of choice to our lips and occasionally splash Scout in the wading pool. Oh deviant guests are we…

Saturday was Lily’s birthday and, today Mali’s birthday.

That Duck is so mine…

Mali is her special little buddy across the road. Mali and Scout have always looked rather alike (so, you can probably tell that her pool buddy in the above photo is not Mali, but rather Lily), but no clearer was that today, when one of the guests leaving Mali’s birthday party said to Scout; “Goodbye Mali!” This person was Mali’s auntie. Hmmmmm. Too much sun and passion pop methinks.

Then, not ten minutes later, Mali’s nana was watching the kids in the wading pool and said about Scout “Oh, he’s such a beautiful little boy - is this Mali’s special little boyfriend?” I thought she was joking at first, but no, she really did think Scout was a boy. When I let her in on the secret, she was suitably embarassed. Did I mention the sun and passion pop?

All terrific parties, thrown by terrific parents who should raise a glass (or ten) of champagne to congratulate themselves on such brilliant milestones. I know Scout’s first birthday was definitely of the “Fuck, we actually made it to One Year” variety.

And Scout thrived on all the pah-tay activity, which at the end of the day, means she’s gonna pass out like a drunk sailor at bedtime.

And Amen to that.

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Dancing Scream

7 February 2007, 07:13

The inevitable. Scout’s first “incident” at creche yesterday.

She had been doing the Scout Groove (she has a variation on her dancing theme, where she stands up, bobs up and down and now points to the sky with both hands - it really is tres cute. It will kill you) and she stumbled forward and hit the corner of a table, scraping the side of her forehead, perilously close to her left eye.

Apparently she screamed/cried for 10 seconds but was easily pacified. And straight back up again dancing after her ice pack started to melt. That’s my girl…

She has really found her attitude of late. She has been throwing what I suspect are fully-blown tantrums for 5 or so minutes. She stops when she realises I’m not going to pander to her or pacify her. Aren’t I an awful mum? Hee hee. They don’t happen very often - she’s usually an absolute dream, making everyone laugh and roadshowing new signature flirty looks with the boys. The girls at creche dote on her, she’s so bloody entertaining (thanks, I’ll take credit for that…)

YOU Sir, are a bolshy monkey!

Creche has been incredibly good. They do call us if Scout is being overly “emotional”, but most days she’s happy and excitable and loves the fact that they have new, cool toys and boys to play with. There’s one boy who can only sleep on the floor in the playroom (the others all sleep in cots in the cot room) so Scout spends his nap time crawling over the top of him back and forth, and (the horror!) enticing others to join her posse of mischief. Not once has this little boy woken up, though.

It cracks me up that they always say “she’s being emotional”. Dude, she aint emotional, she’s just tired and cranky and carrying on like a porkchop. I am such a harsh, harsh mum.

Yesterday, I spied on her for a couple of minutes when I collected her to see how she was acting (before she realised I was there). She was sitting on her carers lap, entertaining two boys around 3 or 4 years old. She was carrying on giggling and flirting and these two boys were visibly captivated. When I finally did leave with her, the boys followed us to the half-door, and called “Scout! Scout!”. The carer explained that Scout was leaving and one boy looked like he was about to crack the poos and “become emotional”. Goodness, lock up your sons NOW people!

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